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sprout-fics · 11 months

Note

dunno if imissed thurs thots bc time zone is an arse but i pilled an allnighter and needed some smit to keep going bc coffeee aint doing it job anymore so heres a copy paste of my idea from when i was actuallyawake

hallo! so taking a page from the spider verse movie, what if reader did yell out a safeword? there is an “aftercare for a red moment” hole in the fic community (or im just blinded by the algorithm who knows)

So this is a really interesting concept, and also a good way to discuss proper sex practices, so thank you anon!

For those unaware, the color system (Green, yellow, red) is typically associated with BDSM practices. Green is all clear, yellow is slow down/change tactics, and red is full stop, change into aftercare mode. However this system is not exclusively designed for kink related practices, it can be a useful tool for even vanilla sex. Please remember to always check in with your partners and obtain enthusiastic consent before engaging in sexual activities. I am not an expert in this area, so please remember to do your own independent research if you are curious about this topic.

(Warning: Uncomfortable sexual scenarios and use of safe words, please read at your own discretion)

The Color Red

(TF 141 reacting to you using a safe word during sex)

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish

You’re not really sure what does it, but something inside you drops abruptly, without warning as Soap’s hand wraps around your throat.

There’s not even any pressure, just a heavy grasp that circles under your jaw but it’s enough to make something in you rise in panic, blood chilling and breath seizing inside your chest

He’s still hunches over you, your legs wrapped around his hips, brow scrunched in pleasure, voice dragging as he tries to angle himself just right to graze against the soft spongy part of you he knows will make you go boneless in his arms

Whatever pleasure was tightening low across your hips dies as a cold, fearful wash of dread takes its place, the world spinning as you drop fast.

“Red.” You croak, voice trembling, abruptly, entire body going rigid with panic.

It’s over in an instant. Soap knows what the word means, is trained to respond at the first instinct of discomfort, and within a blink his hand is gone, his weight off of you

You curl over onto your side, eyes wide and shoulders trembling, wetness still on the inside of your thighs but air rising sharply as hyperventilation threatens to take over

Soap’s weight is off the bed, giving you space, but when he notices your breathing he kneels beside you at once, eyes brimming with worry

“Hen, sweetheart, it’s alright.” He coos softly, words echoing as a steady stream, a reminder to his nearby presence. “You’re safe, we’re done. Breathe for me, You’re alright.”

“Johnny.” You gasp, reaching for him, and he obliges instantly, maneuvering you both so he sits against the headboard and puts your head into his lap, positioning a pillow underneath it.

“I’m here.” He reminds you, a hand stroking along your shoulder in soothing circles as you try to control your breathing, listening to him breathe alongside you. Deep inhale, hold for 4, out for 7. Repeat.

“What do you need, hen?” He asks after a few minutes, after the panic has faded to a dull bite, once you stop shuddering and instead curl into an exhausted heap at his side.

You sigh out a shuddering exhale, feel his thumb graze across the top of your shoulder. Gentle, patient, devoted.

“You, Johnny.” You tell him at last. “Just you.”

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

“Red.”

You gasp it out unexpectedly in Gaz’s bed, hands secured above your head as he bends over you, three fingers curling inside you, smug smile plastered over his face as he tries to wring another orgasm from you despite you telling him you can’t, and him finding another, another anyways

Now, however, it’s finally too much, and when he presses just right the sensation it summons is less pleasurable and more aching, stretching an overworn muscle that leaves something twisting unpleasantly inside you

“Oh shit, doll.” He gasps at the word, and slowly withdraws his fingers to not cause you additional discomfort. You whine, but the sound catches in your throat, pleading and tender. “I’m sorry, shh, take a breath for me.”

He reaches up above you, pulls at the rope and it comes loose easily, allows your hands to sink into the pillows and reduces the strain on your shoulders.

“Hey, hey, I got you.” He murmurs as you shudder, face contorting at the unpleasant ache inside you

He drags you into his arms, and you don’t complain at all, curling into his steady frame as he tucks you against his chest

“You did good.” He tells you at once, reassuring, gentle. “Promise you did good. Just take your time.”

You nuzzle against the coarse, curly hair of his chest, feel him stroke a hand against your back as the ache inside you dies to a low murmur

“I’m okay.” You tell him after a few minutes, taking all the time you need to fully relax into his embrace “It just…it was so much.”

Kyle exhales then, a breath you didn’t realize had been holding. His form goes a little lax against you, relieved by your words

“I’m sorry, doll.” He tells you at once. “I should have stopped sooner.”

You shake your head a little, remind him gently “That’s what the colors are for. I’m alright, just-” and you wince. “Tender.”

You feel him smile into your hair, mouth tugging just an inch, his body warm, solid, reaffirming against yours

“We can fix that.” He tells you softly. “How about I run you a bath and get you cleaned up, hmm?”

You nod, pause, and then crane your head up to plant a kiss against his lips

“Sounds wonderful.”

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Sex with Simon can usually be an intense, emotional affair, an experience where you try and carve space within each other through touch, seeking a balm to the brokenness, soothing to the fear and hurt

Yet there are also times when you both just need release

Which is where you are now, face down, his hands hauling yours behind your back, hips slapping against your pelvis with a rapid, brutal intensity that’s going to leave you pleasantly sore for days

His voice is a grinding, rumbling presence that doesn’t allow you to drift entirely off, forcing you back into the presence of him. A hand tangles in your hair, presses you down into the sheets as he growls lewd, filthy praise down at you

Yet there’s a hint of malice to it, and normally you’d welcome it, send it right back to him, teeth bared and spirit a bright flame that burns against his darkness

Now, however, each word seems to puncture through you, as he hisses ‘Slut. Pretty little whore.’ down at you

You want to take it, want it to feed the coiling need as he buries himself inside you, but tonight it sounds almost like Simon means it.

It hurts.

It forces you to drop so fast it gives you whiplash, mind reeling and you have to remind yourself to say the word that bleeds across your tongue.

“Red.”

Simon stops instantly, removes his hand from your hair like he’s been burned.

You barely even notice, caught in your own turmoil of thoughts, trying to find your way out of the labyrinth. You don’t even notice as he pulls out from you, but the sudden emptiness only feeds the fall, makes a sob curl in your throat as you try and fail to swallow it down

He’s gone from the bed, you notice, and if anything it makes you panic more.

“S-Simon.” He try, voice wavering, and as if you’ve summoned him he appears back at your side, his voice gentler now but strained, guilty

“Here, pet.” A hand against your spine, a feathering touch given only as a mild offering before you give him permission to touch you, to which you gasp “Please.”

The touch becomes firmer, fingers pulling at the rigidness coiled in your frame, and after a moment there’s the cool touch of a washcloth that wipes the sweat from your skin.

“Y-you didn’t mean it, did you?” You try at last, not moving yet, knowing he’d only hush you back into stillness, make sure you didn’t push yourself too fast too soon

Simon takes a moment to process, realization washing over him at why you invoked your color.

“No, never.” He tells you, voice a little distant, and you know the faint unhappiness that colors his own voice isn’t for you but for him, tearing at himself for causing you hurt

You take care of him too, knot your fingers between his in tender reassurance, reminding him that even as he hovers at your side, you stay beside him too

Captain John Price

You’re trying to soldier through it, the pain that wraps around your thigh as he hauls it over his shoulder, braces it on the broad planes of his frame

Your hands are fisted in the sheets, chest heaving as Price forces his tongue into your cunt, fingers digging red marks into your opposite leg. There’s pleasure coiling n your core with every stripe of his tongue, dragging whimpering moans from your throat

It’s soured, however, by the wrapping on your thigh, the stitched bullet hole radiating pain. The sharp ache drowns any potential pleasure that rises inside you and you try to grit your teeth against it, force it down in pursuit of the warmth of price’s breath against your folds

You can’t. You can’t do it, not with tears beginning to well in your eyes and the sounds coming from transitioning into whimpers of pain.

“John.” You manage, strained, and for a moment Price is so absorbed in his task he almost doesn’t hear you. “J-John, red. Red.”

Price’s head shoots up, his ears attuned to that word specifically, and when he does you see slick coating his chin, his eyes flickering brightly in worry.

A sob bursts from your chest at the sight, dragging with pain, eyes hot and wet as you press a hand to the red blossoming bandage.

He surmises the situation quickly, and instantly he’s rising off you, nearly vanishing from you entirely, giving you a bit of space before sitting back down beside you and gently bending your leg onto his lap

“Shh, it’s alright love.” He reassures you, a hand reaching up to stroke at your sweaty forehead, against your brow bunched in worry. “I’ve got you, you’re alright.”

“I’m sorry.” You blurt out even as his fingers knead into your calf. “I didn’t- it hurts.”

“Never apologize for using your colors.” The captain tells you sternly, and he holds your eyes on him, levying you with a disciplining stare that ensures your compliance. You nod, sniffling, and it makes some of the grimness melt from his eyes, tendered with affection

“Where are your pain meds?” He asks then, a hand gently tracing over the bloodied bandage, and you nod to the bedside drawer.

He nods absently, one hand still braced on your leg, the other reaching past you to withdraw the bottle from the assembly of items there

“You’re going to take these.” He tells you without question, drawing your gaze back to him once more. “We’ll get you cleaned up, and then get something warm in your stomach so they go down sunny, yes?”

You sniffle and nod at him, still feeling a little embarrassed, still in pain. Yet it’s softer now with his touch as his eyes turn to you fondly.

“Might even get you some hair of the dog for good measure.” He offers, and it at last summons a shy but warm smile from you

------

Again, if your partner every signals they are uncomfortable during sex, stop, talk, and proceed as needed. If anyone ever disrespects you signaling you are uncomfortable or blatantly ignores your safeword, do not engage with them further. Stay safe, stay sane, and stay consensual

#simon ghost riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #captain john price x reader #cod imagines #fucking outing myself with this post rip #Minors I will fucking steal your kneecaps don't even fucking look at this post I will block you at lightspeed #mdni #18 + only #minors do not interact #minors dni #my writing #my headcanons #blank blogs dni #don't ask me how I know this I've spent too much time researching #also before you ask yes all the cod men respect safewords that's not even a question

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zablife · 1 month

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Now You Know the Truth (Part 7)

Tommy x wife reader

Summary: Dr. Holford comes to answer questions about Tommy's condition and you play your part as the supportive wife...perhaps too well.

Author's Note: My readers have spoken via poll, calling for a happy(ish) ending for this series. However, I also heard those of you who craved a dose of evil. I hope you enjoy the ending I've crafted for this twisted tale. I have to admit, I find it quite satisfying!

Warnings: medical situations, inaccurate medical advice, manipulation

Part 6

"If left untreated, the consequences would be dire," Dr. Holford concluded as silence blanketed the room.

Tommy stood from his desk and began pacing slowly, hands stuffed in his pockets as he began to shake his head in disagreement. "If," he mumbled disgustedly. He cast a long shadow where he stood above the doctor's chair, glowering as he pronounced, "You don't know a bloody thing about what's going to happen."

"Tommy, please, you promised to listen," you began, exchanging a worried glance with Dr. Holford.

"While you are correct that I do not know the exact course of events, I can say with certainty it is not a matter of if but when you succumb. Your wife tells me you enjoy race horses, playing the odds. Well let me assure you these percentages are not in your favor, sir. " Although the doctor tried to adopt a more forceful tone, Tommy only scoffed in reply.

"You people and your percentages. Wasn't it your doctors who told my aunt the gold salts worked without fail?" he asked, eyebrow cocked defiantly.

"As I've explained, your condition is quite different and the treatment I'm offering is a new cure," the doctor assured. "It's less invasive and we would keep your confinement to the absolute minimum."

Tommy stood rubbing his temples as he considered the gravity of the situation. Finally he asked through gritted teeth, "How long?"

"I'm afraid we won't know until we've begun, but cases similar to yours have taken less than six months,” Dr. Holford advised, mouth twitching slightly as he spoke. Every moment spent deceiving your husband was wearing down his defenses and you prayed Tommy wouldn't notice the poorly concealed nervous tremor.

Tommy grumbled as he reached for his cigarette case, a rumble of dissatisfaction issuing forth. "I'm a busy man, doctor. My business interests combined with the care of my pregnant wife….That isn't possible," he concluded, the snap of his lighter finalizing the decision hastily.

Rising to your feet, you placed a hand to Tommy's forearm gently. "That's exactly why you must get well soon," you pleaded. "I need you, Tom," you said with as much sincerity as you could muster.

Though you could feel his icy blue eyes upon you, a sudden waft of smoke created a veil between you. Momentarily, you were transported to Dr. Holford's office and the moment your final plan for Tommy took shape.

I will insist he get well and thus he will refuse to go. That’s when you must present the second option. However, Tommy must be thoroughly convinced in order to believe he's chosen it for himself.

Yes, but are you certain this is what you want, Mrs. Shelby? The effects would be irreversible.

As you refocused on Tommy's crystal irises, Dr. Holford's voice came wafting over your shoulder like a siren call. "There is another way.”

Tommy broke from you suddenly, attempting to hide his curiosity and failing when he rushed out the words, “Go on.”

Sitting forward, the doctor explained, “Some colleagues of mine have shared their research on an experimental procedure to remove the tumor instead of attempting to shrink it.”

“A simpler, more effective solution?” Tommy mused.

“More painful perhaps, but certainly less time to execute,” the doctor conceded with quickening breath, his knee bouncing slightly as he cut his eyes toward you. “And the results would be..." he paused for emphasis, "immediate."

Your eyes gleamed at his word choice, hopeful Tommy would seize upon his promise.

“Pain is the least of my concerns,” Tommy replied gruffly, crushing his cigarette into the ashtray forcefully.

You could tell by his determination, he had made up his mind without you having to ask, but you voiced the question for Dr. Holford's benefit. "Then you'll agree to put this behind us before the baby arrives?" you prodded.

He only nodded with clenched jaw as Dr. Holford reached into his briefcase for the consent forms.

"Fucking get on with it then," Tommy announced to no one in particular as he signed them and stormed out of the room.

"Thank you," you mouthed to the doctor.

He returned your show of appreciation with a small, but triumphant nod.

----------------------

One year later...

"There she is! There's mummy!" Frances called in sing song, crossing the lawn to bring you a wriggling infant.

"Did you have a lovely nap, my darling?" you asked the tiny raven haired cherub, her bright blue eyes catching the light and glinting back at you mischievously. At times she looked so much like Tommy, it stole your breath.

"Not long enough," Frances replied with apologetic eyes. "Mr. Shelby woke her ma'am. I'm awfully sorry."

"Is he wandering the halls again?" you sighed.

"I'm afraid so, but the nurse is coming to fetch him,” she assured you.

"No, there’s no need," you replied with a cheerful smile. "We’ll tend to daddy, won’t we?” you asked your child, hoisting her onto your hip as Frances went back to her other duties. Meanwhile your daughter gurgled back at you happily and you stopped to admire her, heart flooding with overwhelming joy.

Strolling back through the well manicured grounds you surveyed the magnificent face of Arrow House. “This will all be yours one day,” you promised placing a kiss to her temple. “Mummy saw to it because I love you so,” you cooed to her in the soothing voice reserved for bedtime fairy tales.

As you rounded the corner to the room that you once shared with your husband, you sighed softly at the sight of him sitting on the bed, struggling to unbutton his shirt. A maid passed you in the hall, offering a sympathetic smile. “Mr. Shelby looks well today,” she chirped encouragingly, her green eyes shining with admiration for your bravery.

In truth, everyone looked upon you with kindness after the unfortunate outcome of your husband’s brain surgery. Though docile and calm, he had been left simple minded, relying on you for every decision.

“I think you’re right, Mary,” you agreed, closing the door to your husband’s room for privacy.

Bringing your daughter to his bedside, you watched him slowly form the words to greet her, a lazy smile settling on his face before returning to his task. Placing her on the floor to play, you turned back to help him remove his shirt and swing his legs into bed.

You pulled the covers up to his chin and pushed the fringe from his forehead, watching as his empty eyes gazed back at you. All the spite and malice of years past erased with no hint of the formidable man he once was. At times it made you believe you could love him if not for the suffering that came before, which you could neither forgive nor forget.

Pulling back to study him, your face hardened involuntarily at the memory of all the years you spent under the reign of his cruelty. How the tide had turned, you thought as you watched your now frail husband draw breath.

"Y/n?" he called out, hand reaching from beneath the duvet to reach for you. "My love?"

Leaning forward to tuck him in, your lips brushed past his ear whispering, “How long have you been dead for, darling? Lost inside your mind. Have you forgotten?" Your breath fanned over him in a gentle wave, making him shudder slightly and you relished it.

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile as you hissed, "I'm not yours any longer, but make no mistake you are mine until the day you die." Then you leaned down to retrieve your daughter, walking away to leave him sputtering in distress.

--------------------

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #dark!Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby

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thesargasmicgoddess · 5 months

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ok. it's established. i am not as smart as everyone around me believes. sorting citations in mendeley should've been a 30 min task. tops. why am i still here, then? ~2 hours since i started. mistake 1: logging-in on tumblr. mistake 2: stumbling upon your blog (technically not a mistake, just a random occurrence — but is anything random, though?) mistake 3: scrolling mistake 4: wearing the cage (technically not a mistake. it was suppose to curb these distractions. *smh*)

you have curated something really fun [and niche]. all of a sudden i don't feel so alone. horny doctoral students exist! i am not the last survivor of a lost tribe! (': i hope your day's been nice to you so far. —🤓🐻

🤣🤣🤣🤣 thank you SO much for this great message! I couldn't stop laughing and it put a smile on my face because I can TOTALLY relate.

This month, I'm off of school, so I will be doing a ton of work on some manuscripts and etc. Your ask may have inspired an entire APA hoe shoot 🤣

Me, currently:⬇️

I've spent entirely too much time on Zotero trying to download custom citation styles and figuring out how to write new ones. (Apa, footnote superscript style, with other specifics. Yes, I know that's not standard, long story 🤣) I managed to stump my poor librarian, lol.

I've moved to Mendeley. Then, I moved back to zotero. And WHY DON'T THEY HAVE APPS?! (Mendeley did, but then got rid of it, wtf!)

But the scary part? I love this part of the research process. I love how there are rules to follow and exact protocols for everything. Because how often in life do you get specific protocols to follow? 🤣

God, I'm so weird and such a masochist 🤣

I've written before about how I need tumblr to balance out my professional/academic life....I won't get into it now, but there is a very nuanced balance for me between work and play that actually makes me more centered, happy, and productive. I don't think these things should be mutually exclusive. Rather, I think they create a beautiful synergy when specifically balanced towards individual needs and personalities.

Thanks for following along and your ask!

#asks #me #phd hoe chronicles #sargasmicgoddess #new content

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noturprobiem · 2 months

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This is a part of a crossover fic I'm writing, a meeting between bingqiu

The fic will be mainly focused on hualian, but the idea is that Xie Lian, Shen Yuan and Lan Wangji are researchers and their men are supernatural entities

I will need a lot of time to finish the whole thing and this passage might change a bit, but I think it works on it's own right now. It's a bit spooky, too!

Report by: Shen Yuan

On: Entity A0518

I must start by asking you to not allow this information to leak. My report can not be seen by Shen Qingqiu, under any circumstances. If gege finds out, he will endanger himself or others in a misguided attempt to protect me, and there will be casualties. Thank you.

Several years ago I was forced to get rid of an entity, then known as F0518. It was a creature capable of creating illusions, but not trapping people inside. It used the form of a teenager and claimed to be fourteen years of age. However, it looked just like A0517, which gege spent years hunting and running from. They had some history I'm not aware of.

When the entity turned eighteen, gege became convinced that it was hiding its dangerous power and manipulating me to then use me in some nefarious plot. He had some odd ideas about its feelings for me which I won't repeat. He was going to destroy it, but I couldn't let him kill something that resembled a child so much. So I pretended to do it myself, wounding it, but making sure it can survive after a long healing process. I realize how irresponsible that was, but there is no use in disciplining me, as he found me already and will make sure that I know I made a mistake.

Which I don't regret. He was a child.

Yesterday, I was going home late, and turned to a dark alley I know very well. I can avoid every obstacle there blindfolded, which is why I was very confused when I bumped into something. I thought it was a dog at first, but upon further inspection, it turned out to be a small child, standing in the middle of the road and crying. I crouched to ask him what happened, but the kid didn't answer, just grabbed my sleeve and started bawling. Children were always my weakness. I spent several minutes trying to calm him down. I tried sign language, but it didn't work, the kid just got scared that I was trying to shake his hand off my coat. So I scooped him up and left the alley, to at least get a good look at his face and check if he had anything to identify him by. As I walked, my heartbeat slowly gathered speed. The alley was too long. I knew it was supposed to end already, but blamed the fact that I now had a passenger for the tricks my mind played on me.

With a creeping suspicion, I turned left at the end of the alley, and I didn't know where I was anymore. I couldn't let the child feel that something went wrong, so I stubbornly kept going straight ahead. I've been through encounters like this before, they were usually just inconvenient, but not dangerous. The senior Luo Binghe made my paths to gege's house longer just to annoy him sometimes.

As you can guess, I was slowly realizing who caught me this time. It's been three years, after all. I didn't want to run, because it would scare the child, so when I saw the light, I just walked faster. I knew it was a trap, but hoped that I would at least be able to get the kid out before anything bad happened, and that could only be achieved by letting Luo Binghe have his way. He can't tolerate when things don't go as he wanted, and it might partially be my fault.

When I reached the light, the child turned his head to face me. There was something unnatural in the way he moved, in the speed and angle. He looked at me, unblinking, no expression on his face.

“Shizun,” he said. “I miss you.”

I dropped the child and made several steps back, but running was useless in the realm controlled by him. The child's body shifted, as if his bones were breaking and growing and rearranging under his skin. I took another step back, but tripped and fell. For some reason, Binghe put a blanket under me before I hit the ground.

He looked just like the senior one, standing in front of me. He was even taller than when I last saw him, which I didn't think was possible, dressed in several layers of a black old-fashioned hanfu, with long curly hair and a handsome face. Not sure if it's important. Entities aren't usually handsome, from my experience.

The darkness around us turned into an interrogation room, which he sometimes used as a joke when I tried to ground him for something. Didn't expect this room to horrify me, but the gray walls made me feel trapped. The light was dirty and yellow, blinking from time to time, and it made my eyes hurt, the air was stuffed and dusty. The blanket stayed, though. I can't fully understand his actions, even now.

“Aren't going to run? Good,” Binghe chuckled, leaning on the table. “Let's talk like adults, then.”

I didn't have the energy for this. Walking this much wasn't very good for a chronically ill body like mine, and I was already tired after work. So I said:

“Just kill me and we can all move on."

He threw a chair at the wall, and it shattered into pieces.

“You were the one who tried to kill me!” He screamed.

Suddenly, the illusion was broken, and I was left standing in the middle of the alley, completely alone. Nothing odd happened since then.

If I disappear, I beg you to burn this paper before gege can find it and murder everyone involved.

#mxtx #mo xiang tong xiu #mxtx svsss #svsss #scum villian self saving system #svsss au #svsss fanfiction #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen yuan #shen qingqiu

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whiskyanndboots · 4 months

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Brutal

Summary - "Dean, I care about our relationship way too much just to be your South Dakota good time while you're in town"

Pairing - DeanxReader - Platonic!BobbyxReader

Warnings -Angst, infodump for upcoming series, tension, no editing once again

Slight continuation of SNAP

Meeting Bobby Singer had changed your life entirely, he and Rufus had saved you and two co-workers from a vampire attack after several Friday night margaritas. Your co-workers were happy to forget it had ever happened, even denied it after awhile, you however couldn't let it go. You'd researched every single thing you could about vampires, your brief encounter helped you weed out the impossible from the highly probable.   You call it some kind of early midlife crisis, you had regularly taken time off your job to track down victims of possible vampire attacks. You are well aware how unhinged that was, you even had the crazy person map on the wall with thread attached to markers detailing all the possible vampire attacks in the area you'd been able to find, colour coded and everything.   You decided since you weren't actively looking to interact with any vampires, just gathering information tor curiosities sake that you were safe.   The next 4 months you were practically obsessed and while on one of your solo road trips you found a lead in Colorado that lead you to another in New York. You had stopped in the small town of Sioux Falls for the day to rest before driving more. Seeing one of the men that had saved you in the aisle of a grocery store buying beer and hamburger helper was so unexpected you almost ran into a coca cola display.   He had ducked his head when he'd recognised you, he had rushed the cashier when you'd gone to talk to him anyway and he'd started speed walking to his car when you dumped your things and followed him out.   Bobby Singer was not happy when you told him what you'd been doing if the "Are you out of your goddamn mind?!" was anything to go by.   You'd told Bobby you weren't hunting, god no, you just wanted to know about this hidden world inside the one you thought you knew. You'd showed him the journal of vampire facts you'd written, which he immediately pointed out two wrong things you'd thought were correct.  He'd rubbed a hand down his face and stared for a moment. Then he asked how old you were, what you did and if you were married, children, basically everything about your life. He'd quickly realised you weren't going to be convinced into going home or letting this go so he begrudgingly told you his address.   Right there in a Sioux Falls grocery store parking lot started your unlikely friendship.  You turned up at Bobby's the next morning and he grumpily educated you on vampires and let you have free rein of his extensive library so you'd go and leave him "the hell alone". Three weeks later, you'd quit your job and moved to Sioux Falls, you got a job at a tavern and rented a room nearby, you'd visit Bobby on weekends, sometimes even weekday afternoons.   You'd never said you weren't impulsive or that you weren't escaping your old life.   Around six weeks later you were living in Bobby's spare room, he'd said "Why are you wasting money on that shithole, I've got a room upstairs as along as you don't plan on annoyin' the crap outta me", you moved in and realised Singer Salvage was a mess on the business front. You'd spent your days researching monsters, trying to learn ancient languages which was as hard as it sounds, and organising Singer Salvage's inventory and sales. You'd quit your bar job when you'd started making Bobby money and he decided you were now his receptionist, both for hunters and the junk yard. It made it all more believable when you picked up and 'transferred' calls to your boss when cops called.  You'd later learn why Bobby was so willing to take you in.   One night in late July, not long after you'd moved in, you'd both had a bit to drink and you built up the courage to finally ask Bobby about an old polaroid you'd found of himself and two young men. He'd told you about Dean and hell, how Sam's been of the grid ever since he died. Bobby had lost the two men he'd considered sons and you were filling some kind of void for him though he'd never admitted it, he wanted some companionship.

It was for the first time you really understood the sadness and loss that came with hunting, Bobby had many friends, not many close, but no family.   The more time you spent with Bobby the soft spot you immediately had for him became ten times it's size. You learnt to cook more, he complained about the healthier things, but the guy had to watch his chloestrol. You cleaned when he was away and catlogued his never ending junk yard of parts and cars to sell. You still remembered the look on his face when you pulled out $2500 in cash you'd gotten on a day trip you'd taken to sell his stuff after he'd told you this 'junk wasn't worth that much". Problem was Bobby knew where every artififact, weapon, rare herbs and weird stuff was in his house, but he couldn't remember all the things he had buried out back amoungst the rusted out steel.   Google had turned you into a parts expert, the only rule he had was to make sure he didn't need it and not to let any buyers here, public exchange only.   It was an oddly simple life considering Bobby's profession. You became receptioinist for Singer Salvage by day and various FBI and Department of whatevers assistants in the shadows,he'd taught you how to answer phones while he was gone, what to say to keep the hunters out there covered and what kills what so you could help any hunter who called when he wasn't around. You were no Bobby, but you were getting better.   Bobby had decided a beat up 1970 Chevy Chevelle was going to teach you all things cars, told you that you should know how to do things on your own, this one wasn't going so well, honestly Bobby had done most of it while you watched and admittedly zoned out for majority of it.   The only thing Bobby wouldn't do was let you hunt. That was a hard, solid line and you did not mind in the slightest, you'd had to help on one salt and burn once when Bobby needed and that was enough. Monsters, ghosts and demons in theory were interesting, the reality of it you could miss.   Bobby's drinking had you more worried than any supernatural creature did, you enjoyed the occasional alcoholic beverage, but the empty bottles you'd fine some mornings that weren't there when you went to bed worried you, but he would snap if you ever pushed. You were planning on a more subtle intervention.  You'd gone to a friends wedding in September and returned to absolute chaos of a resurection and an apocalypse. Bobby wanted you to pack your things and leave, you refused. You now wondered if that choice was a huge mistake.   That was the first time you'd met Sam and Dean Winchester.   It felt like a lifetime ago.   It was February now and they'd missed both Christmas and New Years, you'd forced Bobby into swapping gifts on Christmas and by gifts you meant a bottle of scotch and some skincare gift pack Bobby must have grabbed at the grocery store, which strangely made you feel warm inside.  

You, Sam, Dean and Bobby were now sitting on Bobby's front porch and had been for the last few hours, just talking, it was nice considering how intense things had been for the last few months. 

Sam and Dean had been through alot with the snippets Bobby had told you, despite how very much involved you were Bobby was still keeping it vague with what was going on out there. You'd heard them talking about a demon named Alistair, Lilith, Angels and Seals when you had turned on the shower and snuck out to listen to what they were talking about when they thought you couldn't hear.  Lilith.   She hadn't come for you, it'd been months. Your rescue from her demon minions was miraculous and you'd been living on the edge ever since, Lilith had said she needed you for something, you have no idea what.   You laughed loudly with everyone at Bobby's story about a hunt with Rufus, you were pleasantly buzzed after a few vodka limes on this particularly hot afternoon. You liked when Dean and Sam came, especially when you had moments like this, moments when you could pretend the apocalypse wasn't looming over you all.   You stood up asking if anyone else wanted another drink with an all around yes. You said you'd get some snacks too.  Three days ago when Sam and Dean arrived was the first time you'd seen Dean since the motel room incident two months ago. Some nights you couldn't sleep thinking about that night, just rolling around unable to get comfortable or relaxed because you couldn't stop relieving the way Dean's hands felt on your skin, how his mouth felt against yours.   Neither of you had brought it up again, just like you'd asked.   You opened the refrigerator pulling out some cheese, dip and salami and crackers. The first time you'd made a glorified cheese platter for Bobby he'd scrunched his face up at 'this fancy crap' you'd stared at him incredulously, 'fancy? It's lazy dinner'  Now he's a cheese platter fiend, not that he'd admit it. You regularly drink beer on a Saturday afternoon eating too much cheese and breadsticks while watching football or reality TV.  "Want some help?" Dean's voice startled you, you turned around from cutting salami to see him leaning in the door way.   "No, I'm nearly done, do you want your beer?" You asked grabbing a bottle from there fridge and holding it out towards him to quick not to be obviously nervous.   Dean pushed off the doorway, his eyes moved down your body as he crossed the room, so brazenly, you were immediately off kilter. The tank top and denim shorts suddenly made you feel suddenly bare.  You wouldn't let him know, you wouldn't show him how much he rattled you. You were an adult for god sake, why did he make you so nervous and stupid? he never used to.   You'd been lulled into a false sense of security, you weren't sure if it was going to be awkward when you watched the Impala roll up the driveway, but to your great relief Dean was completely normal, he was even back to his old self and wasn't treating you like you were cotton wool.  The blatant way he was checking you out caught you off guard, It had to be the alcohol you'd all consumed.

 He took the bottle from your hand and you quickly turned back to the food you were getting ready, you took a swig of the vodka you'd made yourself to calm down.  You had to get a grip on yourself.   "I'll be out soon" You said without turning around. You just had to get this ready and go back out and continue drinking, eating and laughing, no issues.  "You been doing ok, feel like we haven't talked?" Dean asked from behind, damnit he wasn't leaving.  He was right, you'd found yourself alone with him two days ago while you were making some tweaks to the Chevelle, you were about to get Bobby to check it over, you weren't an overly confident home mechanic without him yet.   "She not running?" Dean's voice made you jump.   "Jesus, Dean" You huffed holding your chest.  "Bit on edge there (Y/N)" He laughed "What's going on?" He peered under the hood beside you.   "Making a weird noise, I think something is loose and vibrating on the engine, I'm pretty sure it's here" You pointed, looking at Dean for assurance.

“Can I have a look?" Dean questioned raising his eyebrows.   "Sure" You smiled easily moving out of his way.  Dean leant under the hood and peered into your engine bay "Can you turn her on?"   You moved to the front seat and turned the key until you heard Dean yell to stop. You jumped out and came back to stand beside him.  "Very close, looks like that one, but it's further back" He strained leaning further in and gestured "Over here" you peered over his shoulder.   "We can get this apart and tighten it up this afternoon, won't take long" He smiled widely.   So you did, well mostly Dean did while you watched.  "There' Dean grunted twisting the wrench into place.   You were suddenly very distracted by Dean's arms, he was pulling on the wrench, tan skin bulging as he pulled it tighter, his grey t-shirt was straining against the size of his arm, Dean was talking and you realised you weren't listening when he raised his eyebrow.   "Sorry, what?" Pull yourself together   Dean repeated himself looking at you and the car to make sure you understood. He was so unaffected, ofcourse he was, Dean would've been with plenty of women on the road since you last seen him, you're such an idiot. You just needed to avoid direct eye contact and get through the next few days.   "Should be good as new" Dean said as he finished putting everything back together "Start her up"   You did as he said and naturally there was no more weird noise.   'Thanks, Dean " You smiled genuinely "saved me alot of time and taught me something new"

"It's all good, I needed to get out of the house, there's only so much Sam and Bobby talkin' ancient languages and lore I can take" He wiped his hands off with a rag, once again the movement made his arms bulge, all that thick muscle not from a gym, from hunting because he was strong, you knew first hand how firm he was.   You glanced up and see Dean looking straight at you, you felt your cheeks heat up from embarrassment and swallowed quickly moving to shut the hood of the car, Dean was still watching you with an unreadable look on his face.   Suddenly that familiar feeling of being too close came over you, you could feel the warmth of his skin and you weren't even touching.

"Should get back inside" You said quickly.  "Yeah' He answered, his voice suddenly deeper. You looked back at him and you did not like the change in demeanour at all.  You really wish you never opened this can of worms.   "Yeah there's been alot going on, I've been good, Bobby and i have had a couple of hunts, he wants to lay low for the most part" You answered.   Dean leaned onto the counter beside you, his posture was relaxed, but his brow was pinched. You turned to look at him, you nervously licked your lips, Dean's eyes shot down to the movement, copying it himself. You knew if there was any shot of forgiveness with Jo, you could never ever do what you did again, you hadn't meant to the first time.  "You? Alot more going on out there than here, I'm sure" You tried to keep it light while you distracted yourself with placing cheese cubes.

 "Nothing new so far, just your regular end of the world stuff" he'd answered with a tired sigh, a pained look flashed across his eyes which was gone just as quickly.   You smiled weakly with the corner of your mouth and opened a pack of crackers. You were sure it was much more complicated.  "So tell me" He began fake casually after a short silence, your body tensed at his tone.  "You going to be weird around me all the time now?" He continued.   "I'm not being weird" You replied quickly.   "You're being weird right now" Dean's grin was teasing, definitely beer spearheading this conversation. He was also right, You and Dean had an easy connection that had been strained since that night in the motel.   "I'm fine Dean, really" You answered, probably a little too reassuringly.   "You won't even look at me anymore"   You sighed deeply and tilted your head to meet his gaze raising your eyebrow. You had never let any man make you feel this jittery, you weren't going to start now. He's just Dean, a man.

You turned back to finish what you were doing, Dean chuckled, you could feel his eyes on you, this had to stop now.  if Dean wanted to talk then you'd talk.  "What are you doing, Dean?" You turned to face him fully trying to keep your voice casual.  "What are you doing, (Y/N)?" He countered grinning, like this was a game.

 You frowned confused, you were ignoring this thing exactly like you were supposed to. Dean chuckled looking down for a second shaking his head.  "You tell me you want to forget what happened and then you keep looking at me like you want to jump my bones" He stared at you, you were making a huge bold mental note not to be alone with Dean when he's been drinking all day because apparently his already huge balls got even bigger.  "I do not" You whispered, eyes wide, looking at the door making sure no one was there "I meant what I said" you insisted.  "Why?" He asked suddenly serious.   "Why?" You repeated incredulously   "You want to" He stated. You could tell Dean Winchester didn't get rejected very often, you could see why too. That cocky grin, that handsome face and playfulness that you knew would show you a good time.   "Really, cause it sounds like you're trying to convince me" You raised an eyebrow keeping your tone just as playful. He laughed sliding closer to you.

“Dean, we had a fight, that got out of control, thats all" You continued.   "Sweetheart, I have fights with people all the time and they don't end like that, unless they started like that" Your heart was thumping in your chest, it hadn't started like that though, it really did catch you off guard. You and Jo were on shaky ground as it was, but almost back to normal after months of trying to fix what happened.   "Look Dean we work together, we're friends, Jo is my best friend, there's a whole apocalypse, it's just messy" You finished making your snack platter intent on leaving this kitchen.   "Jo?" He questioned, in your panic you'd slipped up.   "Is that what this is about?" He leaned in closer towards you.  "No" You said quickly.   "(Y/N), Jo is like a little sister to me, nothing's going on with us, nothing has even been going on" His face was full on reassurance, but you felt none of it. Your heart broke for Jo, little sister, ouch.   You crossed your arms with a sigh and turned to face Dean, your face hard you needed a final blow.   "You know Dean, I really didn't take you for a guy who needed to be told no twice" Even as it left your mouth your stomach was turning in knots.   Dean's face feel and all playfulness and flirting was gone.   "(Y/N) I didn't-" He looked so upset with himself.  "It's fine, really" you interupted "Dean, I care about our relationship way too much just to be your South Dakota good time while you're in town" You tried to make light of the situation.  "You're not just a good time" Dean looked insulted.  "Yeah, I'm a pain in the ass too, I know" You smiled trying desperately to get this conversation over.

 "Right" He ran a hand over his mouth clearing his throat and looked away. A heavy silence fell over the kitchen.  You felt awful, but you were honest, you didn't want to be another notch in Dean Winchesters bed post.   "You two good?" Bobby’s gruff voice startled the both of you.   "Yeah" You both said unconvincingly at the same time.   "Here, I'll take that for you" Dean grabbed the platter and his beer and disappeared through the doorway.   "Should I be worried about that?" Bobby asked from behind you as you were gathering the beer for the rest of you from the fridge.   "No" You scoffed, guilt still churning in your stomach.

 "Dean's a good man, you know I love him like a son" Bobby continued.  "God, Bobby i'm not trying anything on Dean" You pleaded.  "Dean isn't the kind of guy for you (Y/N)" Bobby took his beer from your hand.   You were surprised, that wasn't what you were expecting.   "A hunter isn't the kind of man you should be going after" he clarified "It'll be nothing, but heartbreak or death at the end of that road"  "It's ok, Bobby. Don't worry, we're just friends" You patted his shoulder.  There was very little chance of Dean ever making a move on you again, so you weren't worried either.  

#spn imagine #dean x female!reader #dean x you #spn reader insert #dean x reader #supernatural x reader #dean winchester

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archetypal-archivist · 4 months

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hey man, i've been following u for a while but i saw your comment and dude.. bringing up the age of consent means jackshit man. it isnt a cultural difference, if brazilians ( the ones who were literally the first people who brought it up ! and translated everything ! ) say its weird and wrong, then it's weird. you don't have to defend forever, put your morals before your entertainment.

Okay first: I don't agree with pedophilia and regardless of age of consent, going out with younger people when certain age gaps and power dynamics are at play is a scummy thing to do. I'll agree with you on this and I'll ask that you read the entirety of this post explaining why else I commented before you start metaphorically stabbing me.

Second: My reason for bringing up age of consent is not to excuse what he's done, not in the least. The reason I am is because there's a nonzero chance that there's cultural shit at play and as a white person from the USA, I don't know enough about the situation to say anything for sure. For example, in Japan it's very common for women to be sexually assaulted in trains- some statistics put that number higher than 20%. It's not excused there, people there hate it as much as people here. However, when numbers are that high, one does have to wonder what percentage of the population assumes that it is okay. What percentage assumes that yes it's scummy, but it's also to be expected. In Japan, while there are laws against sexual assault, the chances of anything being done about it are... not always promising.

Obviously sexual assault is not okay. Obviously the people who do it are in the wrong. I am not excusing this behavior, nor should it be normalized. However, the fact remains that there are cultural norms that may be at play here and those norms may dictate to some people that it is okay. Even if it's not. (Think about how many entitled dude bros are in the US who think commenting on a woman's bust size is okay, or think it's normal for a husband to physically punish his wife.)

The fact here is that whether or not Forever went out with an underage fan, so long as the fan was over the age of 14, it was not technically illegal. And as such, there may be cultural norms in some locations that make a young 20-something think going out with a 14 or 15 year old is okay. Is it a good thing to do from a moral standpoint? Absolutely not. But until I know what percentage of 14-15 year olds in Brazil date/get hit on by older men or someone from Brazil can fill me in, I don't have enough information to know if Forever's going out with this person was to do so with scummy intentions. It's a scummy action sure, and people are welcome to dislike it. But I want to know the degree of scummy before I make a personal decision, you know?

There's a difference between peer pressure + not knowing better and going out with intent. One of which will make me distance myself from the situation until he makes an apology, the other makes me start deleting old work with him in it. Regardless, until there is more work from Forever in making up and apologizing for his past actions, I will not be supporting him.

Third reason: The person who's dragged up all those old tweets is apparently an anti and has spent a lot of their time trying to dig up dirt on the Brazilians. There's a logical fallacy regarding disbelieving a source simply because you don't like them, but there's also something to be said about believing someone on the internet wholeheartedly regarding context and what they think was going on when you don't know the person and they have reason to be biased. Again, I want to know. And I want other people to fill me in and for other people to have information so they too can be filled in. I'll be doing my own research too of course, but again, I'm not from Brazil nor do I speak Portuguese.

As such, I'll close this post with this: If you are from Brazil, can you weigh in with your takes on the situation and the cultural norms regarding the age of consent in Brazil? Also, if you are not from Brazil and/or you also think you may be missing something about this whole situation, feel free to sit in the corner with me while we watch this shitshow and hope for more info. Just- don't go attacking people. Please.

I'd rather not get an outpouring of hate in my inbox.

#qsmp #forever player #forever discourse #discourse #forever situation

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aspd-culture · 2 months

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aspd and adhd(/possible autism) culture is realizing only once you're out of high school "ohhhhhhh wait, so i thought i wasn't abused growing up, but actually i was and it only stopped due to covid, and that resulted in my osdd system and aspd?"

buckle up, this is Long and definitely classifies as a Vent. honestly, you can ignore the middle section and jump to the next blank line of space if you want.

jesus christ. i was punished more harshly than my peers, i struggled to make friends, i was put into a little school program where board games were used to reinforce good behavior in problem kids which i only realized two months ago, my memory issues (which were always there, but only noticed in fifth grade) got me into so much shit with every authority figure ever, i broke a window using one of those mechanical hamster things that were popular at the time by accident but i didn't care at all, that's just scratching the surface

memories of things have been coming back to me lately. according to my mom i was such a nice little kid, always shared and was polite and highly empathetic, all the goods.

school came along, flipped everything on its head. i remember harassing and hurting animals, and people, and sometimes telling those people not to tell—not because i felt bad but because i didn't want to get into trouble again, it was an inconvenience. my home life was pretty good but other kids left me out of things a lot and sometimes called me names, even the neighbors' kids i liked to hang out with would make me the monster of their games and that does something to a kid (one of them is also the reason i'm a victim of cocsa). when i did something wrong or bad there was only punishment because i "should know not to do that" and so i had to teach myself how to be a functioning and good member of society. i got good at lying towards the end of third grade, the skill got better from there with every punishment i faced

when a former friend told me "hey, you have aspd traits/might have aspd" i went and found the checklist, because thorough research is how i work, went through it. at the time i didn't think it fit very well because "yes, i experience that but that's pretty normal for people, i learned how to manage it under several layers of creating a socially acceptable person just like everyone else"

i've gone back to it a couple times since and wow, surprise surprise, everything applies! the "this doesn't apply to me because i have a system to help with this thing" mindset means the thing still applies! there's some stuff, namely the destruction and truancy, that i didn't do but that's solely because i knew i couldn't get away with it and therefore didn't bother trying. so thanks to aaaaaaall that stuff and more, i definitely grew up with both conduct disorder and odd, and now it's aspd

i can't say i'm mad about having aspd? it causes problems in my life, yes, but i've spent so long wrangling myself into a form small enough to fit into society's box that it's not the worst thing anymore. i think i'm more mad at society, my peers, for not helping me with this and being kind where they should've, especially my mom as of recently

that said: it is fucking hard-wired into me that there's only good people and bad people in the world. harmful behavior towards me (or someone else doing something i can't forgive) is automatically met with hammurabi's eye for an eye. the coping mechanisms i use work very well, are generally healthy, and people who don't do anything to calm themselves down and think rationally tend to piss me off. i have been fighting those things for a while but they're the ones that simply won't go away. hamburger help me.

aspd-culture-is

There's a lot of good information in this ask. Too many people see ASPD as a direct result of physical abuse or CSA/SA, when a lot of ASPD symptoms really develop around things that are seen as smaller issues, where a child's problems get diminished by the people who are supposed to help that child to the point where they feel the only person that will help them is themself.

More than anything else, I personally think a very quick and simple way to decrease the number of people who end up with ASPD would be to get parents and other caregiving adults, and honestly society as a whole, to understand that regardless of how simple, silly, or insignificant it may seem to someone older, these "silly" things are often the worst thing the child has experienced up until that point. Someone always having to be the monster sounds like nothing to an adult, leading to no response to help besides maybe "they're just teasing you, ignore them". But "just teasing" is the most social rejection a child has experienced to that point, and so it is extremely distressing and emotionally painful. It feels like the most isolated they could possibly be, because they haven't been around long enough to experience worse. Then, the child is told to ignore it, which not only fails to make them feel better, but often causes it to get even worse as the other kids try and push harder to get the reaction they're looking for. Do they eventually give up? Sometimes. But the lengths and extremes many bullies will go to when "just teasing" doesn't elicit a response is disturbing and that fact is either unknown to or ignored by adults.

Part of why always being made the monster does something to a kid is that it is treated as a non-issue. When that is what a developing brain learns is the reaction to their pain, they will no longer seek outside help when things become extreme.

TW: descriptions of SA/r threats. Skip the following paragraph and move to the next one to avoid. Also a bit of a vent.

When I was in school, I was teased. I was made the dog who was not allowed to talk or a person with their vocal chords removed any time we played pretend. Sometimes they made me a rock or stick on the ground, even. It sounds like nothing, and when I was told it would go away if I ignored them, I listened. It didn't stop them. It led to an entire set of multiple schools that were combined into one building seeing me as a verbal and sometimes physical plaything; a place to take out your angst and distress. I lost my personhood in their eyes, so my understanding of social interactions were tainted and colored by the way my peers treated me. I told anyone who tried to befriend me not to be seen talking to me, to bully me publicly so they wouldn't get the treatment I got, so even the few people who tried to be kind got a skewed, unnatural social interaction with me. Many listened, and I don't hold that against them at all. That's simply what they had to do to make it. It got to the point of receiving verbal and *detailed, written-out, and signed* r word threats, and boys who were 11 years old talking about kidnapping tying me up in their parents attic and using me whenever they wanted (theirs was more detailed). Some even attempted to touch me, and adults nearby ignored it because "X likes to handle it themselves, they don't like when adults get involved", because I learned that they would only vaguely say stop, and it would get worse. That's what happens when you just ignore it.

And what do we call a person who learns that only they can protect themselves, and who doesn't understand any positive interaction with anyone that isn't transactional? Antisocial. I hate the idea what a positive relationship with family is incompatible with ASPD, sorry about the rant. Because of how ASPD develops, I refuse to dislike or resent myself or my symptoms when it comes to ASPD. If people didn't want me like this, they shouldn't have treated me like this.

Plain text below the cut:

TW: descriptions of SA/r threats. Skip the following paragraph and move to the next one to avoid. Also a bit of a vent.

#aspd-culture-is #aspd culture is #aspd culture #actually aspd #aspd #aspd awareness #actually antisocial #antisocial personality disorder #aspd traits #anons welcome #tw sa mention #tw abuse mention

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layce2015 · 9 months

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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Are You There God? It's Me, Dean Winchester

Masterlist

*(y/n)'s POV*

Bobby was sitting at his desk with a pile of books in front of him while Sam and I were sitting in a couple of chair in the opposite corner talking to Dean, who is standing. "Well, then tell us what else it could be." Sam said to Dean. "Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel." Dean said.

"Okay, look, Dean. Why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?" I asked him. "Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie." Dean replied. "A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps...and Ruby's knife? Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!" Sam exclaims.

"Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one...at some point...ever?" Dean asked and I give him a disbelieving look. "Yeah. You just did, Dean." I said, annoyed, and Dean scoffs. "I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me." He growls.

"Dean, we have a theory." Sam said. "Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please." said Dean. "Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we --" Sam started to explain but Dean talks over him. "Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord because it says so!" Dean yells.

"You three Chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?" Bobby calls out and we get up and walk over to Bobby's desk. "I got stacks of lore -- Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit." He said.

"What else?" Dean asked. "What else, what?" Bobby said, shrugging. "What else could do it?" Dean asked. "Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing." Bobby said and I turn to Dean and place my hands on his shoulders.

"Dean, this is good news." I said. "How?" Dean asked. "Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?" I said, hopeful. "Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?" Dean asked, i could hear suspicion in his voice.

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah." Bobby said as Sam nods. "I don't know, guys." Dean said. "Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam said to Dean.

"Proof?" Dean asked.

"Yes." Sam and I said.

"Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it." Dean said, shaking hi ms head. "Why not?" I asked him. "Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?" Dean asked.

"Dean --" Sam and I said, exasperated, but Dean talks over us again. "I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy." Dean said. "Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs." I pointed out. "Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by...God." Dean said.

"Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat." Sam said. "Fine. What do we know about angels?" Dean asked and Bobby picks up a pile of fat and weighty looking books and puts them in front of Dean.

"Start reading." Bobby said and Dean looks at the pile of books, and turns towards Sam. "You're gonna get me some pie." Dean said as he grabs a book from the top of the pile.

The next half hour, Dean, Bobby and I spent researching about angels but I couldn't really concentrate. I'm still in shock that Dean's back, half the time I have to pinch myself to make sure that this was real. But I am worried about how he got back...but if this was an angel that brought Dean back....this is big!

Bobby had been trying to call a friend, who he believed might have some info on angels but no response. He got worried and then we heard Sam pull up and he tells us to follow him.

We all walk out just as Bobby walks up to the car. "Keep the engine running." He said to Sam. "Why? What's going on?" Sam asked. "I got a friend one state over -- Olivia Lowry. I've been trying to reach her for three days on this angel thing. It's not like her to ignore this many calls." Bobby replied.

"Olivia Lowry -- a hunter, right?" Sam asked. "Yeah. We're gonna go check on her. You guys follow me." he said. Dean approaches the driver's side of the car, as Bobby heads to his own car. "Scoot over." Dean said and Sam scoots over as I get into the backseat. Dean grabs the bag of food Sam bought back and looks inside it.

"Dude?" he said and Sam turns to him. "Yeah?" Sam asked. "Where's the pie?" Dean asked and Sam gives him a blank look while I shake my head.

Later, we make it to Olivia's house and Bobby enters the house, armed with a gun, followed by me and the boys who are also armed. "Olivia?" Bobby called out as we looked around. Then we see Olivia, dead and covered in blood, on the floor and Bobby walks away, out of the room.

"Bobby?" Dean asked but I noticed something on the doorway. "Salt line." I said to the boys and we look around the room. Dean picks up an EMF reader. "Olivia was rocking the EMF meter." He said. "Spirit activity." Sam said, nodding. "Yeah -- on steroids. I never seen a ghost do this to a person." Dean said as Bobby enters the room again, his phone in his hand.

"Bobby, you all right?" I asked him. "I called some hunters nearby..." Bobby said. "Good. We can use their help." Dean said. "...except they ain't answering their phones either." Bobby finished and we all shared a look of worry. "Something's up, huh?" Sam asked. "You think?" Bobby sneers and walks out of the room while the boys and I look concerned.

"We're in Jackson. It's not pretty. He looks even worse than Olivia." I said to Bobby, through my phone, after the boys and I walked out of a house of one of Bobby's hunter friends. "What about you?" I asked. "I checked on Carl Bates and R.C. Adams. They've redecorated...in red." Bobby said.

"What the hell is going on here, Bobby? Why did a bunch of ghosts suddenly want to gank off-duty hunters?" I asked as the boys give me a look. "I don't know, but until we find out, you guys better get your asses to my place." Bobby said. "We're on our way." I said then I hang up.

Later, Sam pulls up to a gas station then he gets out and puts the gas pump in the car. I get out of the car and walk to the restroom while Dean is asleep in the passenger seat of the car. I washed my hands in the bathroom, when I breath out my breath to see it visible.

The bathroom mirror covers with foggy mist, which I wipe away with my hand and become startled when I see Henriksen's reflection. "Hi, (y/n). It's been a while." he greets and my jaw drops and my eyes widen before I turn to him.

"Henriksen. Are you -- Did you..." I stammer but Henriksen talks over me. "I didn't survive...if that's what you're asking." he said and I frown. "I'm sorry." I said, apologetically. And I meant it; ever since we heard about that explosion at that station, I felt guilt for all those people the boys and I tried so hard to keep safe.

"I know you are." He said. "Look, if we'd known Lilith was coming --" I said, quickly, but Henriksen talks over me again. "You wouldn't have left half a dozen innocent people in that police station to die in your place. You did this to me. It was your fault. She was after you and Sam, and I paid the price. You left us there to die!" Henriksen yells then he attacksSme, grabbing me hard, and throwing me around.

That's when I noticed a small brand on Henriksen's hand. But before I could do anything, I was thrown against the mirrors and Henriksen knocks my head on the sink. I fall to the ground, blacking out.

*3rd Person POV*

Once (y/n) hit the ground, Dean and Sam enter and shoots at Henriksen, whose ghost disappears. Dean turns his head and sees the woman he loves on the ground, pass out. "(Y/n)!" He said, worried, as he and his brother go over to her.

Minutes later, Dean is driving and on the phone while (y/n) is in the passenger seat with bruises on her face, Sam was in the back seat. "Damn it, Bobby! Pick up!" Dean growls as he looks at his phone. Then he turns to (y/n). "How you feeling, huh? How many fingers am I holding up?" He asked her and she rolls her eyes. "None. I'll be fine, Dean." She said, exasperated.

"Henriksen?" Sam asked from the backseat. "Yep." she said. "Why? What did he want?" Dean asked. "Revenge, 'cause we got him killed." said (y/n). "(Y/n)." Dean said, exasperated. "Well, we did, Dean." (y/n) said. "All right. Stop right there. Whatever the hell is going on, it's happening to us now, okay? I can't get ahold of Bobby, so if you're not thinking answers, don't think at all." Dean said and (y/n) scoffed.

"You sure you're okay, (y/n)?" Sam asked (y/n), concerned. "Yes, Sammy. I'm fine." She said as they head to Bobby's house.

Dean, Sam and (y/n) enter the house, guns cocked and ready. "Bobby?" Dean calls out until they find the iron poker on the ground. Dean then gestures to the stairs. "I'll go. You two check outside." He tells them and they nod.

Sam and (y/n) walk through the junkyard and kept calling out for Bobby but no answer. They didn't know that Bobby was in a car with two ghost girls, who are keeping him quiet.

Dean was upstairs, searching. "Bobby?" he shouts when a door opens, slowly, no one is visible. "Come out, come out, whoever you are." he calls out. Then a Young Woman with shoulder-length brown hair appears behind him.

"Dean Winchester. Still so bossy. You don't recognize me? This is what I looked like before that demon cut off my hair and dressed me like a slut." the woman said and Dean realized that this was Meg.

"Meg?" He said, confused. "Hi. It's okay, I'm not a demon." She assures him. "You're the girl the demon possessed." Dean said to Meg, shocked. "Meg Masters. Nice to finally talk to you when I'm not, you know, choking on my own blood." She said then she holds up her hands. "It's okay. Seriously, I'm just a college girl. Sorry -- was. I was walking home one night and got jumped by all this smoke. Next thing you know, I'm a prisoner..." and she puts a hand to her head. "...in here. Now, I was awake. I had to watch while she murdered people." She explained.

"I'm sorry." Dean said, apologetically. "Oh, yeah? So sorry you had me thrown off a building?" Meg asked, a bit angry.

"Well, we thought --"

"No, you didn't think! I kept waiting, praying! I was trapped in there screaming at you! Just help me, please! You're supposed to help people, Dean. Why didn't you help me?" She asked, angrily, but Dean didn't have an answer. "I'm sorry." He tells her again.

"Stop saying you're sorry!" Meg shouts then she slaps Dean and knocks him to the floor. "Meg. Meg..." Dean said as he tries to calm her down but she kicks Dean. "We didn't know." Dean explained. "No...You just attacked. Did you ever think there was a girl in here? No. You just charged in, slashing and burning. You think you're some kind of hero?" she growled.

"No, I don't." said Dean and Meg grabs hold of his jacket. Her hand has a brand on it. "You're damn right. Do you have any idea what it's like to be ridden for months by pure evil...while your family has no idea what happened to you?" she asked. "We did the best we could." Dean said then Meg shoves him and kicks him again.

Then she stands over him. "It wasn't just me, Dean. I had a sister. A little sister. She worshipped me. You know how little siblings are, right? How they'll do anything for you. She was never the same after I disappeared. She just...she just got lost. And when my body was lying in the morgue beat-up and broken..." she said, her voice shaking with tears. "Meg." Dean groans but Meg continues.

"Do you know what that did to her? She killed herself!" she exclaims then she kicks Dean in the stomach. Because of you, Dean! Because all you were thinking about was your family, your revenge, and your demons! 50 words of Latin a little sooner, and I'd still be alive. My baby sister would still be alive. That blood is on your hands, Dean!" she screams "You're right." Dean said and Meg kicks at him again.

Meanwhile, Sam and (y/n) were looking through the car lot for Bobby, calling out for him. But then Sam spots a reflection and works his way up a pile of cars towards Bobby, (y/n) close behind him. "Bobby! Hold on, Bobby! We're coming! Bobby!" Sam said and he and (y/n) use a couple of crowbars to pry open the doors to the car where Bobby is being held.

The girls push him and (y/n) backwards and they land on another car below, bleeding. The girls jump on them and the two hunters use the crowbars to fight the two until they disappeared.

Back inside, Dean was still on the ground as he takes out a gun and aims it at Meg. "Come on, Dean, did your brain get french-fried in Hell? You can't shoot me with bullets." Meg sneered at him. "I'm not shooting you." Dean said then he aims his gun and shoots at the ceiling, a chandelier falls and lands on Meg. "Iron." He growls.

Later, Dean, Sam, (y/n) and Bobby were in the study, discussing what just happened. "So, they're all people we know?" (y/n) asked. "Not just know. People we couldn't save." Dean explained then he looks over at Sam. "Hey, I saw something on Meg. Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?" he asked.

"I don't think so." Sam said, after thinking for a moment. "It was like a-a mark on her hand -- almost like a brand." Dean said and (y/n) looks up at him. "I saw a mark, too, on Henriksen." she exclaims.

"What did it look like?" Bobby asked and (y/n) thinks. "Uh, paper?" she asked and Sam offers her a piece of paper and she takes it. "Thanks." She said and she starts sketching the mark.

Few moments later, she holds the drawing up for Dean to compare. "That's it." Dean said as Bobby and Sam look at it too. "I may have seen this before. We got to move." He said as he quickly stands up. "Follow me." He said.

"Okay, where are we going?" Sam asked as they follow him. "Some place safe, you idiot." Bobby growls as he picks up some books and leads the trio to a basement room, which is made entirely of iron and covered with pentagrams and Devil's traps.

"Bobby, is this..." (y/n) started to ask but Bobby finished her sentence. "Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. 100% ghost-proof." he said. "You built a panic room?" Sam asked. "I had a weekend off." Bobby said, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Bobby." Dean mutters and Bobby turns to him. "What?" He asked and Dean smirks. "You're awesome." He said then he sees a poster of a swimsuit model. "Oh." He mutters and (y/n) folds her arms across her chest. "You can look, but can't touch." She said and Dean turns to her and gives her his signature smile.

"I'm starting to like this side of you." He said and (y/n) rolls her eyes at him.

Later, Sam, Dean and (y/n) were making iron bullets when Dean turns to the others. "See, this is why I can't get behind God." He said. "What are you talking about?" Sam asked as he and (y/n) look up at him. "If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason -- just random, horrible, evil -- I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?" Dean asked and Sam and (y/n) share a look before they turn back to Dean.

But before they could say anything, Bobby comes in. "Found it." He said, holding a book. "What?" (Y/n) asked. "The symbol you saw -- the brand on the ghosts..." Bobby said. "Yeah?" (Y/n) said. "Mark of the Witness." Bobby replied.

"Witness? Witness to what?" Sam asked. "The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts -- they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them...on purpose." Bobby said.

"Who?" Sam asked, curiously. "Do I look like I know?" Bobby asked, annoyed. "Yes...cause you're all knowing." (Y/n) said and Bobby turns to her. "Smart-ass." He grumbles and she smiles, proudly. "Anyway whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called the rising of the witnesses. It figures into an ancient prophecy." Bobby said before Dean blinks, rapidly.

"Wait, wait. What -- what book is that prophecy from?" he asked. "Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know. But long story short -- Revelations. This is a sign, boys and girls." Bobby said. "A sign of what?" The trio asked. "The apocalypse." Bobby said and the whole room got quiet.

"Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?" Dean asked, shocked. "That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a -- a mile marker." Bobby replied. "Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam asked, worried. "Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience." (y/n) said. "Bunny Ranch." Dean added and (y/n) punches his arm.

"First things first. How about we survive our friends out there?" Bobby asked. "Great. Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgment Day?" Dean asked with sarcasm. "It's a spell..." Bobby said as he indicates the paper in front of him. "...to send the witnesses back to rest. Should work."

"Should. Great." Sam grumbles. "If I translate it correctly. I think I got everything we need here at the house." Bobby said. "Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?" Dean asked him. "So, you thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden? Spell's got to be cast over an open fire." Bobby said.

"The fireplace in the library." (y/n) said and Bobby points at her. "Bingo." he said. "That's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Dean mutters as he and the others prepare to leave the panic room.

"Cover each other. And aim careful. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you. Ready?" Bobby said and they make their way out of the room, and head towards the stairs.

A ghost sits on the stairs, a young man in his early 20s with curly hair. "Hey, Dean. You remember me?" The man asked. "Ronald, huh? With the laser eyes? I wish I could say it's good to see you." Dean said. "I am dead because of you. You were supposed to help me!" Ronald shouts then Bobby shoots at Ronald. "If you're gonna shoot, shoot. Don't talk." Bobby tells him and they make their way to the living room.

Sam and (y/n) create a salt cirle and Dean starts the fire. "Upstairs, linen closet -- red hex box. It'll be heavy." Bobby tells Sam. "Got it." Sam said and he heads upstairs. Then two girls appear in the living room again. "Bobby." One girl said and Dean shoots at the girls. "Kitchen. Cutlery drawer. It's got a false bottom. Hemlock, opium, wormwood." Bobby tells him and Dean looks at him, confused.

"Opium?" he asked. "Go!" Bobby shouts just as the girls reappear while Dean leaves for the kitchen. Bobby is drawing with chalk on the desk and tries to focus on this while the girls are there. "Bobby. You walked right by us while that monster ate us all up." One of the girls said to him. "You could have saved us." The second girl said then (y/n) picks up her gun and shoots at the girls.

Upstairs, Sam finds the red box in the cupboard when Meg shows up. "You know what really pisses me off, Sam?" Meg asked. Sam turns around, sees Meg and fires at her. "You saw how I suffered for months. I thought you must have learned something. I thought I died for something." Meg growled.

"Meg." Sam mutters as he reloads his gun. "But what you're doing with that demon, Ruby...How many innocent bodies has Ruby burned through for kicks? How many girls just like me? And you don't send her back to Hell? You're a monster!" Meg yells then Sam raises his rifle and shoots Meg.

Meanwhile, Dean is in the kitchen looking for the false bottom in the drawer when the doors to the kitchen close suddenly. "Dean!" (Y/n) yells, fearfully, and he turns to the door. "I'm all right, (y/n)! You make sure that Bobby keeps working!" He calls out when Henriksen appears next to him.

"Victor." Dean said.

"Dean." Henriksen said.

"I know." Dean said, apologetically.

"No. You don't." Henriksen growls.

"It's my fault you're dead. I left you behind. And the minute I heard about that explosion, I thought, I should have known. I should have protected you." Dean said as he reaches for a gun behind him, but it goes flying across the room.

"Unh-unh. Not so fast. You think you left and Lilith came and we all died in a beautiful blast of...white light? If only. 45 minutes." Henriksen said. "What?" Dean said, confused. "Over 45 minutes. Lilith said she wanted to have some fun. The secretary was first. Remember her? Nancy, the virgin. Lilith filleted Nancy's skin off piece by piece. Right in front of us, made us watch. Nancy never stopped screaming." Henriksen said and Dean's eyes widen.

"No." he whispered.

"I was the last." Henriksen said.

"Victor..." Dean started to say until Henriksen reaches inside Dean's chest and grips his heart. "Tell me how it's fair. You get saved from Hell -- I die. Why do you deserve another chance, Dean?" he said but then Sam enters and shoots Henriksen, rushing to check on Dean as soon as Henriksen is gone.

"You all right?" Sam asked him. "No." Dean said as he places his hand on his chest. "Let's go." Sam said as he helps Dean up and he and Dean carry the hex box and other ingredients to the library. Ronald appears again as Dean is reloading his gun.

"Ronald. Hey, come on, man. I thought we were pals." Dean said. "That's when I was breathing. Now I'm gonna eat you alive." Ronald growls. "Well...come on, I'm not a cheeseburger." Dean yells then he cocks his gun and points it at Ronald, but Ronald has vanished.

Bobby recites some Latin words and the windows blow open and a wind fills the room, the wind moves the salt so they are no longer protected by it. Meg appears and (y/n) quickly shoots at her, as Bobby continues to recite the spell

Ronald appears and they shoot at him. Sam, Dean and (y/n) continue to fire as the ghosts appear. Henriksen knocks Dean's gun out of his hands when he is reloading, and approaches him. (Y/n) aims her gun, and shoots it at Henriksen, who then turns to her. He knocks the gun out of her hands then shoves her to the side as Dean quickly picks up an iron rod and hits at Henriksen.

Meg appears and pushes Sam against the wall, trapping him there with a desk. Sam tries to push the desk away without success. "Sam! Help Bobby!" Dean yells.

Bobby continues to recite the spell and Sam keeps trying to get out from behind the desk. The two girls sit on the desk waiting as Meg plunges a hand into Bobby's back. Bobby drops the bowl with spell ingredients.

"Dean!" Bobby yells as Dean catches the bowl. "Fireplace!" Bobby yells and Dean throws the bowl in the fire, which turns blue. The ghosts all disappear and Bobby falls to the ground. "Bobby?" (Y/n) calls out as she gets up and Sam pushes the desk away, freeing himself. Dean, Sam and (y/n) help Bobby up. He nods, indicating he is okay.

That night, Sam is asleep on the couch while Dean and (y/n) are asleep on the floor nearby, (y/n) was sleeping on her left side while Dean was spooning her. Dean then wakes up to find Castiel standing in the kitchen. Dean checks on Sam, sees he is asleep, and slowly removes his arms off of (y/n) then walks over to join Castiel.

"Excellent job with the witnesses." Castiel praised. "You were hip to all this?" Dean asked him. "I was, uh, made aware." Castiel replied. "Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance." Dean said, sarcastically. "You know, I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest."

"But you didn't." Castiel pointed out. "I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks." Dean growls. "Read the Bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier." replied Castiel.

"Yeah? Then, why didn't you fight?" Dean asked, angrily. "I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns." Castiel said. "Concerns? There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?" Dean asked, angrily.

"There's a God." Castiel assures. "I'm not convinced. 'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?" asked Dean.

"The Lord works..."

"If you say mysterious ways, so help me, I will kick your ass." Dean threatens and Castiel closes his mouth. "So, Bobby was right...about the witnesses. This is some kind of a...sign of the apocalypse." Dean said and Castiel nods. "That's why we're here. Big things afoot." he said.

"Do I want to know what kind of things?" Dean asked. "I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know. The rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 seals." Castiel informs. "Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at Seaworld." Dean said with sarcasm.

"Those seals are being broken by Lilith." Castiel said and Dean raises an eyebrow. "She did the spell. She rose the witnesses." Dean said. "Mm-hmm. And not just here. 20 other hunters are dead." Castiel said. "Of course. She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us." Dean grumbles. "Lilith has a certain sense of humor." Castiel said.

"Well, we put those spirits back to rest." Dean tells him.

"It doesn't matter. The seal was broken." Castiel said.

"Why break the seal anyway?" Dean asked him. "You think of the seals as locks on a door." Castiel said and Dean thinks. "Okay. Last one opens and..." he said then Castiel finishes.. "Lucifer walks free."

"Lucifer? But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday school. There's no such thing." Dean said,, shaking his head. "Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me. Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in 2,000 years?" Castiel asked.

"To stop Lucifer." Dean replied and. Castiel nods. "That's why we've arrived." said Castiel. "Well...bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. That's nice." Dean said, sarcastically.

"We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week." Castiel said and Dean looks a bit taken aback by this. "You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." Castiel threatens then he vanishes, leaving Dean alone in the kitchen.

Later Dean wakes up and sees that Sam and (y/n) are already awake, up and about. "You all right? What's wrong, Dean?" (y/n) asked as she noticed that Dean looked a bit worried. Dean turns to them and asked. "So...You two got no problem believing in...God and Angels?"

"No, not really." Sam said as (y/n) shrugs. "I'd like to believe them." She said. "So, I guess that means that you believe in the Devil." Dean said and Sam and (y/n) share a look before they look back at Dean.

"Why are you asking us all this?" Sam asked him.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

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nana-kom · 8 months

Text

Hi 👋🏻

This is a weight gain fic, this contain: feederism, wg, masturbation, if you don’t like don’t read.

Delivery boy

For the first time in his life, Felix had moved out on his own - he'd lived with his parents all his life, and was finally earning enough money to buy his first apartment. He was really excited about the idea of living on his own and finally becoming an adult. You see, Felix was a photographer, but he also worked in photo retouching and often accepted requests from different people to retouch photos. This could mean removing people from photos, lightening, coloring... so he spent most of his days at home working. This didn't really bother him, as he really enjoyed his work and loved working on all types of photos and requests. After moving in, the weeks began to pass and it has to be said that he lived very well on his own, eating whenever he wanted, going out if he felt like it and enjoying inviting his friends over whenever he likes. He couldn't have wished for anything better. But something start to changes after one of his clients request, it all began with a very specific request of retouch a photo of his client’s boyfriend to make him look chubby.

At first, Felix didn't really understand the request, but since he needed the money, he didn't really feel like refusing. The next day, he set to work, taking out his tablet and starting to redraw the proportions of the face and make this person chubby. At first, he remained focused on his work, but the more he progressed, the more he didn't want to stop and was eager to see the result. As he passed his eyes over the photo, he felt himself harden and let out a groan. Why was he so excited to see this person get fatter? He then swallowed and put down his tablet before running his hand over his member and starting to stroke himself as he thought about what he'd just done. Seeing someone slim put on weight and drawing all this shape made him so aroused that he even wanted to make him even fatter, so he didn't take long before jerking off. Fuck, what is happening to me? He thinks before cleaning the mess and finishing his work.

In the week that followed, Felix couldn't help but feel guilty. Whenever he opened his computer to research weight gainers, he couldn't help but masturbate to them. At first it was videos, then he came across drawings and fictions, all of which made him feel weird and guilty, but on the other hand the pleasure was too great. He began to think about what he wanted to do and wondered if he too could put on weight. He'd recently started eating more, but wondered if he could double all the quantities, and it wasn't long before he completely changed his eating routine.

Felix then started taking weight gain powder to stimulate his appetite for a week, and also began to eat in greater quantities, telling himself that if he wanted to put on weight he'd better order fast food and limit his sporting activities as much as possible. One evening he placed a large order at a fast food restaurant and was tempted by many things, including fries and onions rings, chicken fried as he loved it, four different burgers and doughnuts for dessert, as well as sodas to keep him hydrated throughout the evening. It had to be greasy, and he couldn't wait for all that food. When the doorbell rang, he hurried to the front door and came upon a rather cute delivery boy.

"Lee Felix ?" asked the delivery boy.

"Yes, that's me!" he said with a smile, and the deliveryman passed him several bags.

"Are you new to the neighborhood?"

"Hum...yes? How did you know?"

"Oh it's just that I often deliver here and this is the first time I've seen you so I was wondering...I didn't mean to be intrusive."

"Don't worry, something tells me we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

Felix then smiled before greeting him, then closed the door without the delivery man really understanding why. Felix then sat down at the table in his living room, and began to devour his meal, it must be said that the appetite stimulants were really taking effect and he often found himself hungry at any time of the day. He ate his burgers, enjoying every bite, feeling his stomach swell as he progressed through his meal. He had no idea that eating so much could be so exhausting. He needed to take breaks and found himself with the soda bottle in hand to wash it all down. He started to put his hand on his belly and feeling it so warm and swollen he groaned again and took a handful of French fries and shoved them into his mouth. The pleasure was too good for Felix and he hoped to see the effects of this meal on his body, he loved feeling heavy and fat. At the end of his meal, he couldn't help but let out a few burp and didn't even have the strength to get up. He closed his eyes, massaging his belly, which was far too swollen from the food he'd had to open the button on his pants to finish the meal, and fell asleep on the sofa, too lazy to do anything.

Over the next few days, Felix continued this routine and, as always, the delivery man was the same. They began to get to know each other, and this one's name was Chan. He was doing this to pay for his studies, and since he worked and lived in the neighborhood, it was very convenient for him. It must be said that Felix was always happy to see him, as he always brought his food. At first Chan wondered whether Felix lived with several people, due to the quantity of food, but he learned that he lived alone, and as the weeks went by he saw the impact of his meals on Felix's body. At first he noticed it in his cheeks, which looked puffier, but as time went by and the time it took to come open the door grew longer, he began to wear wider clothes and stopped wearing jeans and just jogging suits. Chan was surprised to see this handsome young man change, but he enjoyed every visit when he came, and the bigger Felix got, the more Chan was attracted to him.

Months went by and one day Chan received a large order and was not surprised when he saw Felix's address. He hurried to pick up the order, then went straight to the address he knew well before ringing the bell. He waited for several minutes without understanding what was happening, then heard a noise inside.

"Come in!" said Felix.

Chan frowned, but didn't ask any questions and walked through the door, only to find Felix sitting on his sofa. Or rather sunken into his sofa unable to stand up, he was huge, all his body look fat, his feet: his hand, his legs, any parts of his body couldn’t tell you he was skinny before. He was wearing a t-shirt far too small for him because his breasts talking all the part, Chan start wondered if he was wearing pants, since his belly covered his legs, his breasts fell over his stomach and his face was surrounded by several double chins. The arm of Felix were on his belly, too heavy to be somewhere else. The slim man Chan had known months before had disappeared to make himself a pig who did nothing but eat again and again unable to stop and it was clear that Felix had gone too far to pick him up.

"Sorry I didn't feel like getting up," said Felix, smiling.

"That's okay..." he said as he placed his order on the table some distance from Felix. "Will it be okay if I put it here or are you unable to move?"

"I can...try..." said Felix, reaching for the bag.

Chan didn't want to leave this apartment, he wanted to see Felix sweating just by making some movement to reach his food. Felix tried his best to retrieve the food, but he was just tiring himself out for nothing; he began to gasp for breath and sweat more and more.

"Look at you, unable to feed yourself without someone to help."

«"I...can...do…it..."

"Leave it to me, little piggy."

Chan then grabbed the food that Felix had ordered and began to feed him, Felix was too hungry to think about what was going on, and he ate again and again all that Chan could give him, he didn't care what he looked like and he just needed more.

"How could you end up like that?"

"More Chan....I'm still hungry..."

"You're just a little pig addicted to food how would you do without me?"

"You made me this way..."

"I was just bringing what you ordered...you're all dirty look at you." said Chan as Felix had food around his mouth and on his shirt.

"Bring me more next time...fuck...I can't get up...." say Felix trying to stand up.

"I'll take care of you if you’re a good boy..."

Chan then sat on Felix and started touching his belly, Felix blushing as he realized that the distance between them was because his huge belly was taking up all the space. He groaned as he felt Chan's hands roam over his body and into areas he himself could no longer reach. Chan then grabbed what was left on the table and fed him while he continued to touch him.

"Such a good pig. »

"Mmm...thanks..." say Felix, chewing the food.

"You're doing really good big boy. I can't wait to see how fat you're going to be."

" If you keep coming I'm never stopping to gain weight. "

" And I'm never stopping to feed you baby. "

#chubby skz #weight gain fic #weight gain skz #chubby kpop #chubby felix

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nokingsonlyfooles · 21 days

Text

Help. Pls seal a competent doctor in an envelope and send them to me.

OK. I'm in danger. Ha. Still fighting to stay alive with what I have, but... uh... Two out of three doctors are confirmed incompetent and the third hasn't acquitted himself too well, but I'm not positive he's lacking information I need to live and resistant to learn it. The other two are definitely like that, and that's not good for the ol' complicated health problems. I'm not easy to treat and BOY DO THEY ALL HATE THAT!

Today was the gynecologist. I hate that. I hate having one of those. I hate having to navigate all this gendered shit that's phrased like people like me don't exist. Forget "nonbinary," I have to keep saying "total hysterectomy" over and over and OVER. I hate that this person sees me as NOTHING BUT my gendered body parts and she's REAPEATEDLY refused to engage with anything going on in the rest of my body. I go to this person's office and I become tits and a vagina. Mainly the vagina. With people intermittently forgetting I don't have the other standard equipment.

I didn't know how to prepare for today. I had a week. I made a phone appointment in order to beg for an in-person appointment to lay out all my complicated shit, and she tried to take care of it over the phone anyway. I had not prepared for that. I mentioned that my hair was falling out, as a persistent menopause symptom that was not being addressed, and she focused on that, interrupted me, and went off on how she could not regrow my hair. And, OK. But that wasn't what I meant and she didn't give me room to explain what I DID mean. I did manage to be annoying enough to get the in-person appointment. And then I didn't know what I ought to take with me.

I spent all week going in circles, wondering what she needed to know, and how to say it so she'd understand. I do have the neurodivergent inclination to, you know, explain things when I'm not understood. And I don't know how else to make a doctor understand the type of healthcare I need! Shouldn't they listen to me? I have ample evidence that they don't, but I don't know how they expect to treat me otherwise.

Over the phone, she hit me out of left field with the fact that she's been dragging her feet on my estrogen dose because I had a bad reaction to ONE MEDICATION, ONE TIME. I don't even know if it was the estrogen, it could've been a binding agent or some shit. She decided that for me, she also decided my breast pain was from too much estrogen (even though my dose is at post-menopausal levels) and she's been prescribing me medicine based on that story she told herself.

I told her my experience is that I've never had more breast pain with a higher hormone dose, it's always gotten better... and I'm pretty sure she doesn't believe me. Like, I said that, and she reiterated later that more estrogen causes breast pain. I reiterated, that wasn't my experience and I do have anecdotal evidence at least of women who have breast pain from low estrogen too. She basically went, "OK, here's some higher estrogen. Whatever."

Then I said I was also willing to use the injectable kind, or an implant. Oral estrogen hurt my liver earlier, so I agree with her that something other than that would be safer. I thought she would know about these other methods. I did not research their existence. I mean, estrogen injections? I'm active in trans circles, that's just... That's shit's not special. That's just Tuesday.

She said, "What is that? I've never heard of that." She didn't even know enough about it to think, for a second, "Hmm, maybe I should know about that. Maybe I shouldn't admit I don't know that." Nope. I'm asking for weird medication and the burden is on me to explain this craziness.

What I wanted to say was, "Don't you know even one transwoman? Aren't you in women's health??" But I didn't know what the hell that was gonna get me. I sputtered for a bit and finally managed, "That's... pretty basic gender clinic stuff..."

She said, "Do you want me to refer you to a gender clinic?" right away. Fuck, I should've just said, "YES! I WANT THAT SO MUCH! LET ME GO!" But I was so baffled and confused at that point that I was shaking.

The spouse found a name of an injectable estrogen brand and offered it to her. She had a look at his phone and said, "I don't know what that is and I'm not going to prescribe it if I don't know what it is." She offered a referral to another doctor that does, "Off-label stuff, the crazy stuff the rest of us don't want to deal with." Ha-ha, okay. Cool. Yeah. That's me!

So I have a new patch with more estrogen in it and GOD HELP ME if I have a bad reaction to it. I've never been on this particular type of estradiol before, but I wasn't getting any traction when I asserted there are different kinds of estrogen that I may tolerate better or not as well. No acknowledgement. No engagement. More irrelevant information from the special snowflake who looks things up on the internet and thinks they're smarter than a doctor. Fucking hell, BUT I KNOW WHAT ESTROGEN INJECTIONS ARE.

Oh, and because we waited over an hour past our appointment time to get in, the garage where we parked our car closed before we could get out. We had to beg to be let in. While I was melting down and feeling like I was gonna pass out.

I got a soda and some nuggets, I'm fine. I lived. I got home and looked up injectable estrogen + Canada, because, deep down, I do doubt myself and wonder if I'm insane. Maybe Canadian transwoman suck their hormones out of the mighty moose, fuck if I know. But, uh, no. It's a thing. Yeah. Pretty basic thing. Once weekly injections. No public option for it, though. Trans folks pay extra to be who they are!

Here's the kicker, while we were waiting for the nuggets and soda, the spouse said, "While she was saying that she didn't know what it was, the poster behind her, with the birth control options? Estrogen injection is the third one on there."

"God, why didn't you just point to it?"

"I didn't know what she'd do."

That's... Probably pretty wise, yeah. I don't think she would've done anything GOOD.

I'm not being allowed to participate in my own healthcare as an equal partner. People are just... making decisions for me and never telling me. And they fight me when I say it's not helping and I try to give them some reasons why. They want me to take what they give me and shut up. But that'll KILL me. It HAS BEEN KILLING ME.

The family doctor is at the root of this, he's in charge of everything. I can't get rid of him. I'm trying, but it's not set up so I can get rid of him. There isn't another doctor available who I can switch to. Clinics are filling the gaps, but I can't shitcan my actual doctor to get care on random from a clinic. They won't let me. I'm not familiar with this system. I know someone who knows it better and they're willing to help. We're going to have to get back in touch with them, and I hope they know what to do.

At the moment... I'm not safe. I'm not getting good care. I'm getting bullying, gaslighting and apathy. So much that I worry about posting this stuff on the internet. Like all y'all aren't going to believe me either. Surely, I must be exaggerating. This is... This reads like warmed-over Kafka, or Catch-22. This is my life. For now. While I'm able to fight for it.

#doctors #healthcare #gynecologist #autism #anxiety #help i want to live #please don't kill me

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gaypirate420 · 9 months

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Curiosity here: {Discussion}

If you could re-write Jasper but keep 2 things about him, what would you keep? Besides appearance and gift! How would you explore this new version of Jasper?

For me, I'd keep his army past and Alice. But I'd explore how he changes over time and comes to realize how bad being on the Confederate side & being racist is. (I think you get it I'm trying to keep this short.)

Such as what makes him change and how he copes with his new understanding, and y'know the whole process of that.

Ofc, she comes into play too, maybe she's the catalyst that gets him to thinkin' about the topic at the surface, but it eventually goes deeper as she overtime explains things to him, and he thinks further on his own. IDK BRO I'm just thinking and wanted to read what you'd do. {Have a discussion.}

I'd change him shacking up w/ the Cullens though...or maybe their relationships with each other. I'd love to explore everything basically around canon while still being divergent to an extent. (Canon Related?)

He'd be the main character, but I think you already knew that if you read or at least skimmed this. But I have a terrible fear of people misunderstanding me. (⊙﹏⊙)

But yeah, I was just curious! I know a lot of people have done all sorts of things with him in Fics regarding his past and such, but I do always enjoy reading your responses to things.

This is just a purely hypothetical discussion. {If this was ever made that would be ambitious as hell cause like mf is like... 150 years old!}

I don't even want to think about all that time, and they never sleep either so like holy hell. So many moments of introspection and guilt and etc. to write I'd have a mental collapse. {But that's me when I write anything but also editing sucks ass.}

But not to mention ofc the huge amounts of research everything would take, and I am a huge perfectionist.

-Sincerely a mutual who tried to ask a few questions then freaked out over my own questions.

I'm making this anon now because I fear this ask now.

I think we have the same idea dear mutual!

(this is so fucking long omg I went off the rails, let me know what y'all think.)

I wouldn't rewrite anything, I'll just play it differently, I'll give it a nice depth.

I've always been on the side that just rewrite or ignore Jasper's confederate past is- not ideal. Yeah it's okay for a silly little comfort fic with your favorite vampire but not when talking about his actual canon characterization.

I would keep him serving for the Confederate army. I know a lot of people don't like that about him, but, I think it's a huge part of his character but there was something lacking there.

And what was missing is guilt.

Jasper, as to how he is written, and how we see the scenes of his past are played on both the book and the movie makes him look like he wasn't ashamed of his racist past or that he was even still prideful for it.

And it's so weird for me, how could this man who spent a century long depression, a self described "monster" a "nightmare" that just floods with self loathing couldn't feel guilty for not only taking someone's life but their freedom?

How could he feel guilty over killing the newborns but not black people? It doesn't make sense and it makes it worse, it makes you think that he, in modern times, it's still a confederate and also because vampires are "mentally frozen." He's not changed that much really then.

(I think Jasper lacking guilt and remorse about these fact about him is because of SM and her own views she not so subtlety spread all over her books though.)

So yes, I am keeping him as an ex-confederate soldier. Jasper was 17 so we are just to assume he was ignorant, and that's okay, we can live with an ignorant white boy for now. I cannot stress enough about how there is no need to make mental flips and splits to justify this choice of thinking in a 17 y/o southern boy from the 1840's. But, he gets to change, he, after the first years of him killing the newborns reflects about this, he might not be completely educated but he has the spirit.

Now let's talk about Alice.

I love her, but, if we are really analysing this then her and therefore the rest of the Cullens (because they welcome her and Jasper on their family) are okay with Jasper serving for the confederacy and I don't like that.

Why did Alice make him feel hope and all this shit and get him to change and learn a new life but didn't make him reflect on that maybe, perhaps, fighting for the enslavement of an entire race wasn't a good thing to do.

She says "you'll never be that again." referring to him being a vampire killing machine, not a racist, may I remind y'all.

So, I think the change would be about Alice teaching him things, Jasper spent so much time with Maria and then he was seriously depressed, I get the idea he wasn't interested on- going outside besides to feed from humans.

I think there are two types of vampires, those who love seeing humanity grow and change and come up with all these little inventions and then the ones who just see humans as prey.

Alice being the first and Jasper the second, but not for long after he meets her.

I think Alice could update him about the modern world that was the 50's, she would educate her that yes, Jasper's gentlemanly ways are charming and make her blush and giggle but there are some comments that aren't okay, just because in "his time" it was "okay", "funny" or "right", to say these things doesn't make them less offensive, dismissive and hurtful.

Alice would ask Jasper what did he felt while serving? And why? Was he even fully aware of what he was fighting for? Did the years of him seeing countless human's fight and go to wars that got bloodier and more destructive made him stop and think about the damage of his own army career?

Make the man reflect. Make him think for days and days about these questions he asked himself but never truly took the time to answer them. I need Jasper to have a slight mental breakdown before he gets to know the more peaceful life with the Cullens and Alice.

Alice asked these questions in her endless curiosity, not in innocence, but rather to know Jasper, really know him and understand him.

I want him to feel disgusted about having to feed from humans now that he realizes how much harm he did, and that's were the Cullens come in, Alice knows about her new family of course and it's more than excited to know her mate wants this life too, not because oh he's so in love with her he'll do anything (he is) but because he wants to change.

Carlisle let's him stay because he knows this, he understands in a way and he can't help but sympathize with him and Alice wanting to change herself and help her partner.

But Jasper can't fully because his body is asking him to kill constantly. He doesn't want to keep harming people, but his body can't forget, not only his body it's scarred as a reminder, but there's this annoying bloodlust that doesn't want to go away just yet.

But he has Alice, holding his hand and make him feel like everything will be alright.

Jasper is struggling but he is changing, he is getting more and more mental peace, finally, after a century and a half. It's slow, it's painful but it's there, self forgiveness and change.

One of the things that I love, a concept, Jasper being into philosophy, history and just literature, him loving to learn.

I love that in Breaking Dawn Jasper wanted to help Bella with her thirst. And of course I love him being hurt when she's way more successful than he is after so many years.

Seeing someone who you share the same experiences is so amazing, it helps you, but seeing them overcome this challenges that you also endure it brings you down on such a horrible way, it hurts you, but it makes you think of who you were before and how much you have accomplished. How much you've changed and that's my take on Jasper Hale.

I am not normal about him.

Also, I think I would change vampires not being able to sleep or cry, I think Jasper deserves both, as a treat :). I love him.

#i could go on #but I won't because I think I got the right thing #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock hale #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #the twilight saga #twilight headcanon #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #effervescent

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fatuismooches · 1 year

Note

I DON'T REMEMBER IF I REPLIED OR NOT BUT HERES A REPLY ANW OMG U BREAK MY HEART SO WELL AAASHHA sorry if I've already said smth so this makes it a double reply ANW dottore angst gets me so hard but I don't hate myself that much so an accompanyinh fluff I'd like to add is like imagine reader is reallyyyy good at chess cus they're established as smart by being in the akademiya and now since you can't rlly do anth all day you challenge the clones to chess often so anw one day dot is just coming as you win a game against one of the clones for the third time in a row and you challenge him to a game and he's so convinced he'll win he deliberates going easy on you and- wait what the fuck why are you so good

also you are quickly becoming my fav creator to interact wit :( 💗

- 🌕

I HAD THE BIGGEST SMILE READING THIS IT'S SO CUTE- I NEED TO WRITE A LIL SOMETHING YOU'RE SO BIG BRAINED...!

Since your illness prevented you from training your body more than you like, you made your best effort to train your mind instead. You deemed your mind as very important, as the loneliness of it all often weighed down on you more than you liked. So you made sure to keep yourself occupied as much as you could, to try and prevent any negative thoughts from creeping up. And well, you found it to be quite rewarding. There was one time when the clones were struggling with an experiment for quite a while and were reluctant to inform Prime. So you asked them to let you take a look at the notes and everything along those lines. Admittedly, it reminded you of when you researched with your lover back at the Akademiya, so you accidentally got too into it, scribbling all of your thoughts and a possible answer to the problems. The clones were rather shocked when you turned out to be right.

But your favorite activity by far was chess. The brain teaser was highly favored by those at the Akademiya, and for good reason too. It was a great way to challenge yourself and get your mind working, and the best part? You could sit down comfortably and only move your hand, and enjoy the rather handsome view of a segment's face laced with confusion.

The clones were almost always happy to indulge your wishes, sometimes even fighting over who got to fulfill them. So after you absentmindedly mentioned wanting to play chess, the next day the game was set up in the lab, ready for use. Needless to say, you were quite elated. You had itched for the chance to play again. And of course, your only opponents were the multitude of your lovely segments.

The segments do love you. It is only natural that their creator’s love for you extends to them as well. So they gladly play along with your little game of chess, but they won’t do it too seriously; after all they wouldn’t want to hurt- wait, how did you already beat him?! For all of their wisdom and knowledge, they are baffled when they are taken out that quickly.

It eventually gets to the point where you have a little group of clones watching you battle another. It’s quite endearing to see them hover over you like that, trying to guess what move you’ll play next. But the true fun comes when Zandik appears. There are times where sometimes you do not see him for a few days, but that’s alright. The time spent afterwards always feels the best, and this is one such time. He is unaware of the little show you’ve been putting on, so you gleefully invite him to play you in a game of chess.

He accepts of course. Admittedly, it had been a while since he played, having only laid eyes on the chessboard in which the Gnoses were pieces. And of course, he has the same mentality as his clones - he’ll go easy on his darling, you’re his after all. He knows his genius is incomparable so- wait… you beat him? Since when did you become so good? You must tell him all the details now, he wants to know your thought process and the strategy’s name and how the other matches went and-

You shut him up with a kiss and invite him for some more chess games in your shared bedroom.

#smooches talks #🌕 anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #also i cant play chess at all.. so forgive me if i didnt get the terms right LMAO #i want to learn chess so bad. but i just suck ass #BUT I LOVE THIS IDEA AND U TOO NONNIE UR SO CUTE AND FUN TO TALK TO

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weenwrites · 10 months

Note

Heyo! Could I have some headcanons about TFP Ratchet with a younger cybertronain s/o who can’t go out on the field due to past injuries and feels useless/is dealing with depression? Maybe Ratchet could help the reader stretch or give them a massage so they could possibly move faster, and the reader doing the same in return? The writing would mean a lot to me, thank you!

✎A/N: Please let me know if I've gotten anything wrong, and I hope you enjoy it!

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Ratchet

Ratchet was there when you were first told that your injuries were too severe for you to continue going onto the field. He was there to comfort you, to listen to you, to keep you company, and to take care of you through your recovery. And the chances are that he was the doctor who fixed you up, which means he feels immense guilt that he wasn't able to treat you well enough so you'd make a full recovery.

While he knows that feeling guilty won't change anything, he can't help but feel horrible anyway whenever he sees that you're having a hard time. Still, he tries to use this guilt to motivate himself to help you do simple exercises or stretches to try and improve your mobility.

He'll take 50 minutes out of his day to do some wrist and ankle rolls, knee marches, torso twists, heel slides, calf raises, etc... Or if possible, he'll have you do some curls with some relatively light weights. And the moment you start feeling any discomfort or pain, he'll have you stop and try something else or sit and rest for a while.

He's told you before that you should do your stretches and exercises without him, but you've managed to convince him to join you anyway. Sometimes, other members of the team will join in on the exercising and stretching sessions just to keep you company and talk with you.

Since most of—if not all your time is spent at the base, he'll have you assist him with some of his work at times, just to give you something to do (he's started doing it ever since he learned that you felt useless). Though he won't have you doing any heavy lifting or rigorous physical activity, he'll have you help him with cleaning up his workspace, or perhaps bringing him light-weight tools. Or if you have some scientific or medicinal knowledge, then he'll have you help him perform regular checkups on the team, or simple patch-up jobs whenever they get injured. Or if your strengths lie elsewhere, in things such as military strategizing, mission coordination, or managing communications, then you can do that from the base as well.

He then learned about aquajogging online and performed some extensive research on its benefits and drawbacks. He was curious, and so using his connections with Fowler, he managed to find a massive indoor pool to use. Of course he tested it out himself to see if it would be beneficial for cybertronians before allowing you to try it out. Or if you don't like that, then he's taken the kid's advice and rigged an exercise video game set-up, if you want something more entertaining to motivate you to exercise.

At times whenever you feel down, upset, or mourn the loss of what you used to be able to do, he'll remind you that you've made much progress towards improving your mobility thus far. He'll point out things that used to be much more difficult, and how you're now able to do them easier after taking the time to exercise and stretch for however long it's been, and he'll place a lot of emphasis on how proud he is that you've made it so far.

Or if you're upset about being useless, he'll keep emphasizing that no matter what you think of the work you for the team from back in the base, it's still valuable and it helps them greatly. And depending on what you do, the team will be sure to back him up and tell you about how helpful your strategies were for winning a key battle, for example, or how your coordination during missions helps them work together better, so on and so forth.

#tfp imagines #tfp headcanons #tfp x reader #tfp ratchet #ratchet x reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert #weenwrites

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callmeana2310 · 2 years

Note

Old friends pt. 3?

Old Friends (Pt. 3/?) - College!Nick Nelson x female!Reader

Parts : Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Pairing: College!Nick Nelson x female!Reader

Warnings: light cussing, LGBTQAI+, alcohol, cigarettes, non-native in English! (Lemme know any mistakes, especially if anything is offensive in the slightest ways!!!)

Topics: friendship, crush, old friends meet again, college, bisexuals, music, soft, young adults, growing up, cute cuddly Nick Nelson

Summary: After years the reader meets Nick Nelson at college. They knew each other from Truham and Higgs and (Y/N) remembers her crush on him.

Word count: 2,115

Note: This is for the 20+ gang who also loved Heartstopper. Nick is in his mid 20s and the reader in her early 20s!

Hi there! Thanks for your patience! I'm really busy, but I'm trying to write some more chapters, here is part 3 and 4 is almost done!

The next few days are stressful. I need to rearrange some courses, buy plenty of literature and materials for the courses and also get back into university life. I leave the office hour of my literature professor, walking across campus to get to my favourite coffee shop on campus. I order my typical, caramel latte with coconut milk. I sit down at one of the corner tables. I love this place because it has this beautiful dark academia charm. Everything is made of deep, rich red-brown coloured wood - probably walnut or cherry - which has been carefully oiled and polished over the years. The left wall is covered with bookshelves made of the same wood, stuffed with old and old-looking books. I've spent hours going through those books, borrowed dozens of them for private use, but also for my studies. I admire the books while sitting down. The whole coffee shop is always dark and gloomy. The warm light from the ancient chandeliers and the fake candles - fake to protect the books and the wood, still aiming to maintain the aesthetic - everywhere create a cosy and welcoming atmosphere. Behind the massive counter are: vintage coffee machines, huge glass containers with coffee beans and dark, heavy wooden lids, and three very kind and relaxed baristas who take and prepare orders. On every surface are some kind of plants growing and blooming, all very well and neatly groomed. The table I chose is one of the smaller ones, with enough space for two, if you're really trying four could fit, but very snug. I sink into the huge, dark green winged armchair and arrange the red fluffy pillow behind my back. I put my laptop on the table, looking around, taking in the musky smell of wood mixed with strong notes of coffee. The only thing I don't enjoy that much; is how packed this place can get. With that comes a lot of noise that can be very distracting. But today is one of the rather quiet days. I shake my head softly, start my laptop, open amazon to buy some novels and parallelly research for some poetry collections. "Y/N! Hi there!", I hear Darcy yell across the shop. I look up, wave and laugh, "Hi Darcy! Tara!" They order before coming to my table and sitting down. "How are you?", Tara asks. "Haven't seen you in a while!", Darcy exclaims. I shake my head in disbelief. "I can't believe it!", I say with disappointment in my voice. "Can't believe what? What happened?", Darcy panics a little. "We're here for two years and you forgot to tell me Nick studies here too?", I laugh. This time it's Darcy staring at me in disbelief. Tara laughs wholeheartedly, "Shit! Nick? Nick Nelson? We didn't? Well... Yeah! Of course, Nick studies here! Have you seen him? I haven't seen him in ages! He's too busy being a rugby lad I guess!" "Yeah! Finally! I met him at that LGBTQ Party before the semester started! I really didn't wanna go, but Emily and the other girls literally dragged me there!" "Well... Better later than never I guess?", Darcy laughs, "I could've sworn we told you when you first came here!" I check a few names with them just to make sure I didn't miss anyone else the last few semesters. Then one of the kind baristas brings us our orders and my earlier ambitions to get all the literature is quickly forgotten. Tara and Darcy have been away for the semester break so I haven't seen them in a while, they tell me about their road trip through Italy and we slip into a daydream about a joint road trip in the future. "Before we fall into an autumn depression lets plan something for the weekend! Y/N? Are you free on Saturday? We need a girl's night!", Tara suggests. I nod, "Yes! Totally! We could check out that new place at the centre?" "Cocktails at your place and then we head downtown?", Darcy checks her idea with us. "Girl's Night!", I confirm, raising my glass for a toast.

Saturday Afternoon

I come home from practice around 5pm. Just enough time to clean my apartment, hop in the shower and prepare some snacks. I drop my bag at the front door, kick off my shoes and go to the kitchen to check if I got everything for the snacks. I mentally pat my own shoulder after checking all the ingredients. I take a moment to connect my phone to my speaker and start some music. Taking in the vibrations from the bass of the first song, right before I take off to clean up. I literally run through the whole apartment, collecting clothes and similar items which belong in the washing machine. After collecting a reasonable amount I sort them into different piles and throw in the largest load possible. I. Hate. Laundry. And you can tell. I repeat the same route again and again picking up different items, and placing them where they belong. I fluff and rearrange my couch pillows and fold the blankets carefully, after that I quickly vacuum and mop the floor. While the floor dries I jump in the shower. My music is still blasting through the speaker and the time in the shower allows me to relax for a few minutes. And... Relaxation in the shower means screaming the tunes at the top of my lungs. After a thorough cleanse from head to toe I get out of the shower and wrap my hair and my body into a soft and fresh towel. I take care of my skin before heading back to the kitchen. I cut some vegetables, arrange them on some skewers, prepare a couple of different dips, and cut open some fresh bread I baked in the morning, I do the same with some fruits and prepare some chocolate to be molten as soon as Darcy and Tara arrive. Our girl's nights are always a feast, the girls bring snacks and drinks too and we have a blast before even going out. I take a look at my phone seeing it's almost 7 pm, sprinting to my bedroom to pick out an outfit. I sit there just in underwear for quite a while, standing up every now and then to try on some stuff but nothing looks the way I want it to. My door rings, I throw over a robe and open it for the girls. "Hi there Hun! Looks like an outfit disaster!", Tara chuckles while hugging me. "That obvious? Hi girlies!", I reply hugging both of them. "Very obvious. Who you wanna pick up today? Boys? Girls? Both? Non?", Darcy asks walking towards the kitchen. "I don't know", I try to pick an option, "I just wanna be comfy and look hot, because you guys always look hot!" Both of them break out in laughter, taking off their jackets; revealing BOMB outfits. "I hate you fesh lesbs", I groan only to make them laugh even more. "Give me a sec!", I shout going back to my bedroom. A white body, slightly see-through with a square cleavage, black flair pants and some simple, black, squared high heels. I walk into the living room presenting my outfit receiving some comments. "Hot but comfy! I would kill for your curves!", Darcy exclaims. That's all I wanted to hear. Lesbian approved! "You gotta do that dark brown sultry make-up! The one that makes your eyes pop!", Tara insists. I laugh, "That's the plan! But snacks and drinks first!" We gather in the kitchen, the girls carry the snacks to the couch table and I mix some of our favourite cocktails. We sit down together and toast to a great evening. As per usual we first catch up on stuff we missed the last few weeks, and then they show me some beautiful pictures from their Italy road trip, each one bearing a story. I style my hair and make-up while listening to all the great stories, missing Italy and travelling. We eat almost all of the snacks and drink almost all of the alcohol. I really missed this.

Snacked up, snatched up and proper tipsy we head to town to a new, super modern and hip bar that just opened up. Getting there our girl's night is already kinda over because we meet shared friends we can't just leave sitting there. I say hi to the group when a glimpse of red hair catches my eye. He is here too? I should have known. Before I could finish that thought Nick turns around. "Hi!", he exclaims, looking me up and down. "Hi!", I reply before he pulls me in for a hug. "Wow! I've never seen you like that! You look beautiful! I mean you always do but... That make-up... Your eyes are... Just.. Very blue!", he laughs slightly nervous. I laugh, "Thanks! You look awesome too!" "Thanks!" He does. Black pants and a dark blue, well-fitted long-sleeve henley with the top buttons unbuttoned. Very simple, very powerful. Someone pushes me from behind, pushing me towards him, making me grab his upper arm and stand very close to him. He supports me by gently holding me by my waist. He looks down at me for a moment. Was that a smirk? "You good?", he asks. I can smell he already had some drinks. I nod, "Yeah, sorry! Ahm... Nice to see you again!" Suddenly someone properly grabs me from behind, pushing me aside. I am confused for a moment until I see Darcy walking past me, hugging Nick. "You know, we haven't seen him in a while either", Tara explains, shrugging her shoulders and joining the hug. Before I can react to that some other friends grab my attention and we get separated for a while. Eventually, the three of us meet a the bar again. "Girls' night was fun until it lasted!", Tara shouts, raising her glass for a toast. Darcy and I agree, joining in with our glasses and laughing. "Yes! Next time we stay at home! You guys can still crash on my couch!", I scream over the music. We try to talk, but the music is really loud at the bar so we decide to go dancing. And we dance, and drink, and dance, and drink, and dance until I really need a break. "I'm outside for a smoke!", I yell into Tara's ear, letting her know where I am going. On the way out I grab my jacket from the chair.

Standing outside, taking another drag from my smoke I hear someone clicking their tongue behind me, but I don't bother turning around. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! Does your brother know you're smoking?" I automatically roll my eyes at that statement, but also involuntary smile. "Yeah! He does and he hates it!", I reply looking to my right where the redhead appears, lighting himself a cigarette. I laugh loudly. "Does Sarah know?" This time he rolls his eyes. "She nearly killed me!", he hisses. We both laugh, casually standing next to each other, smoking our cigarettes. Our laughter slowly falls silent. "How's your mom?", I ask softly, looking down at my feet. "She's fine, misses us being around... The usual.", a brief moment of silence before he continues, "How's your fam?" I shrug my shoulders "The usual, not happy, not miserable enough to change anything". I throw away my butt into an ashtray. The conversation is clearly over, but I insist on waiting for him. "I'll need another. It's way too crowded and loud inside!", he explains, holding out his pack, offering me another. "True! Thanks!", I say grabbing another smoke from his pack. We fall into lighter small talk while smoking, both avoiding heavy topics from the past. At some point, I start shifting from one leg to the other. Nick notices, "Are you cold?" I shake my head. I'm not, probably nervous, maybe just in the mood for dancing. He holds up the side of his coat I'm standing next to, offering me warm shelter underneath it. Why not? Is all I think before making sure my cigarettes won't burn a hole into any clothes and then snuggling next to him. Under his coat, it's cosy and warm. My upper arm bumps into his side and I feel his body heat burn through the fabric of both of our clothes. There it is, that little smirk again, barely there, but very cute. Together with his body heat comes a mixture of cold smoke, alcohol and a men's perfume, a smell hypnotizing me more than I expected it to. I look up at him and we both chuckle.

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