#And when i finally had friends again i spent a while struggling with addiction and needed it in order to be social

[kennys-parka-jacket]

alright, gonna get something off my chest. Then i'll watch Youre Getting Burgers

[itneverendshere]

cowboy casanova - rafe cameron AU ii

part i.

synopsis: no real plot line just me thinking about cowboy!rafe while listening to cowboy casanova lmao...might write a part 2...idk; thought my rafe phase couldn't get worse..but it's WORSAA than ever, drew got me on a leash jesus; anyway enjoy

warnings: cowboy!Rafe Cameron; kissing; a LOT of pet names; SMUT! (not that bad YET); mutual pinning;

word count: 2.204k

You still think that’s all it is. 

A few nights spent together as a stress reliever, nothing more, nothing less. You can’t help but feel sad at the thought. Maybe, you’d fallen for the reckless blonde more than you’d meant

But how could you not? Rafe, the reckless, Cameron, has stolen more than just your heart, he’s stolen your sanity. His sweet words, dripped in more than honey, have taken over every fiber of your body.

What you don’t know is how Rafe’s friends tease the living shit out of him, that he's always at your feet, or not too far behind. Always hanging on to your last word. In his eyes, you're in a league of your own, and he feels unworthy of your attention.

Your intelligence, wit, and beauty have captivated him in ways he never expected.

He never wanted to like you so much. He knows, he’s not the guy who gets the girl by the end of the story, but he’s dying to.

He has to.

He can’t fathom another possibility. Rafe knows he smokes and drinks more than he should, and he’s earned his reputation as the resident Casanova. But the one vice that really turns him inside out, the one that really knocks him off his feet…turned out to be you. 

Life’s a bitch.

 You have managed to penetrate the walls he built around himself and awaken emotions he thought he had long buried. And, a few months ago, he’d never ever admit it.

But now? Now that he finally has you, it’s all different. 

You’re the most addicting pretty little thing he has ever tasted. He willingly bends to your will and finds himself doing things he never thought he would do, all because of the intoxicating effect you have on him.

Rafe knows you're never gonna pick him. He's made his peace with that, so he'll take whatever you give him.

“You wanna run that by me again?” He asks, caging you as soon as the door to your bedroom is locked and closed behind you. His hands are everywhere, squeezing, pinching, tugging. He presses your back against the wood, your hands shoving his plaid shirt upwards. 

“Kelce asked me on a date?”

Rafe's not a jealous man. Or at least he wasn't until fucking Kelce was stupid enough to think he could put his hands on you. As if he'd ever let that happen.

He's quick to assist you when it comes to undressing you both, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it into the darkness as he watches you press soft kisses against his bare shoulder.

“So that’s how it is, huh? Good enough to fuck you but not to take ya on dates? That hurts, sugar.”

He hopes you're too horny to notice the underlying hurt in his voice.

God forbid he ruins the mood and his chance to touch you.

Rafe’s hands wander over your hips, beneath your shirt, and by now he has memorized how you gasp so beautifully when his thumb brushes the underside of your breasts. He breaks away only to help you pull your shirt off, burying his face in your neck. 

“You never asked.”

Is that a tinge of hope? He never envisioned himself as the white picket fence type, nor did he see himself as someone who would fall in love and become a traditional knight in shining armor for someone else.

“Didn’t know I could.”

“Need a little push?” Your voice is hoarse.

Until you.

You feel him shake his head slightly, stubble rubbing just the right way against your skin.

“Just need you.” 

And then he’s leaning back over you, taking your chin in his palm as he slides his mouth over yours softly. He tastes like the whiskey you’d shared earlier. The one he��d swiped from you at the bar. Seeing him smirk beneath the brim of his hat as he tipped the glass back, made you struggle between choosing murder or sex. 

Your fingers automatically card through his hair as he slips his hands behind you to unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor between the two of you, his mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck. 

Before you know it, he’s hoisting you over his shoulder so he can drop you on the bed. Lifting you had never been a problem for him.

He’s warm, his arms are wrapped around you and his legs are tangled up with yours.

When one of his hands slides around again to cup your tits in his palms, thumbs sliding over your nipple, you whine his name, and the sound makes his heart skip a beat. His other hand is back to your chin, tipping it up, towards him, and his hand slides lower, wrapping gently around your neck.

He knows just how hard to squeeze to get a gasp out of you. To make you look him in the eyes and see the smirk that curves his lips. You squirm in his lap, trying to relieve some pressure between your legs.

A whine snakes past your lips and it's like music to his ears.

“Rafe,” You beg, voice wobbling as if he'd been teasing you for hours rather than a few moments, and he swells with pride that he has as much of an effect on you as you do on him., “Want you.”

"You've got me, sweet girl," he assures, leaning down to swipe his tongue fleetingly over one of your nipples as his hands slide along the back of your thighs. 

You're arching up against him already.

“Don’t tease.”

“That desperate, huh—”

The sarcastic remark dies on his lips as you push down on the waistband of his jeans. He can’t wrap his head around how easily you unbutton his jeans and free his cock, wrapping a hand around his length.

“Fuck,” He hisses sharply, hips lurching forward, thrusting into your hand.

“That desperate, cowboy?” You ask rhetorically, your voice barely registering over the lewd sounds he’s making.

With that, Rafe goes right back to attacking your nipples. It’s a mess of teeth and tongues that results in moans, and your chest being rubbed raw by his stubble. He has to grit his teeth to keep himself from being too loud, your hand still working over his length slowly as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Gon’ be the death of me, aren’t ya?”

“Want me to stop?” You pout, hand coming to a stop as he curses you out while you make a show of licking his pre cum off your palm and his gaze darkens, fingers making quick work of the buttons on your jeans and yanking them down in one swift movement. 

“Fucking tease.”

You yelp at the suddenness but your eyes glint mischievously, drawing him back to your mouth as you murmur teasingly, “In a hurry, casanova?" 

“To get inside that sweet pussy? Yeah,” You lift your hips to slide off your underwear, dropping it to the floor, “Drive me fucking crazy, y'know that?" He admits.

You smiled into his arm, tongue rolling over your teeth as you prepare to tease, “Couldn’t tell.”

His gaze rakes over you silently, until your hands are tugging on him, fingers intertwining with his.

“Been waiting all week for you,” You say, fingertips ghosting your skin before diving down, digits collecting your wetness, an obscene sound leaving your mouth, "See?"

“Fuck—Baby, ‘m gonna cum before we even start.”

You twist your head to capture his mouth again, slower but with more heat than before. Your lips travel down to his jaw, then under his ear to suck the tender skin there. Rafe moans, his hands clenching your waist.

You’re a pain in the ass. 

His hand replaces yours, giving him leverage to circle your clit. He grunts, pupils trained on your face as your hips grind against him.

Two fingers slip in, then three. There’s hardly any coherent thought in your head when he speaks again.

“Tell me how much you missed me.”

You want to smack the shit-eating grin off of his face. He knows you can only moan at this point.

“Words, pretty.” He teases, pupils trained on your face as your hips grind against his hand. You feel him tug a strand of your hair, twisting it around his finger.

“Rafe,” You whine at his words, your grip on his shoulders squeezing impossibly tighter, “Please.”

“Y’look so pretty like this, sugar,” He whispers in your ear, “Just f’me. Fucking yourself on my fingers.”

Your hips circle desperately, head falling back as he works his magic inside you. Skillful fingers roll gentle circles against your clit. He pushes into your cunt again, thumb now rolling against your clit, one of his fingers darting in and out of you slowly.

All the way, your breathing deepens, skin glowing red at this point.

Blue shimmers into your glossy eyes, and his silky, messy dark blonde hair makes his appearance all the more alluring, especially in such a delirious state. A strong hand grips you by the neck, and firm lips plant themselves squarely on yours.

It’s pathetic how fast you keen under his touch

Rafe groans into your mouth and you continue to press your hips down farther. A needy whine escapes your lips, your panting is heavy.

“Rafe if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear to—“

You don’t think it’s possible to get wetter than you already are, but every thrust of his fingers proves you wrong. He curls both at the same time, and your hips immediately lift from the pressure.

“Uh uh, behave.” That southern drawl of his is deeper, lazier than usual.

You love it.

You watch him spit on your slit through hooded eyes and it does it for you. A rush of electricity passes through your body and it renders you senseless. It feels as if a bolt of lightning stroked inside of you, you feel the rush begin to surge. Breath caught in your lungs, chest heaving, blood rushing in your ears, you almost don’t hear when he murmurs your name.

“Oh—fuck, Rafe—baby."

“I know, sugar,” He mumbles into your mouth, smiling widening as he quickens his pace. 

Your mind is hazy, it turns into a mixture of fog and smoke, but your refuse to leave him hanging. The warmth of him is consuming and the hairs on your skin stand up eagerly.

“N-need you inside me—Oh—now.”

“Already am?”

Everything is already slick and hot to the touch. You groan so hoarsely that he feels your chest vibrate against his.

“Don't. Your cock, now.”

“Tell me y’not going on a date with fucking Kelce.”

“Rafe…” you sigh when he dives his lips to your neck. He only chuckles, his voice reverberating into your skin. You raise your hands and push at his chest slightly. 

His lips automatically unlatch from your flesh. Fuck, maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut, is this where you tell him it’s over and you never want to see him again? 

“Yeah?” His brows are slightly knitted as you wiggle beneath him, your cunt clenching and unclenching around nothing.

“If you don’t fuck me in the next minute, you can bet your ass I’m going on that date. “

“Sugar,” Rafe groans into the junction where your shoulder and neck meet, his teeth grazing over your skin, “Can't say that.”

You raise your hips to meet his.

“M’ not going on that stupid date, you know that,” You moan.

He smiles involuntarily before he can help it, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. The warmth spreads across his face, his lips curving upward with genuine delight, a sense of relief washes over him.

You spread your legs as he ruts into you, his clothed cock twitching above your folds. He needs to be inside of you now. 

Your body instantly shivers when he finally takes a hand into his pants and snatches his aching cock. You can’t help but stare at how the muscles in his arm bulge every time he strokes it.

Your words echo in his head as he grits his teeth to stop himself from cumming on the spot.

“Rafe, please,” You beg, again. That’s all you seem to do when you’re around him. 

With a deep breath, he finally pushes inside. Home sweet home. No matter how many times you've slept with him, it still felt like you are going to be torn apart from the inside out as he carefully inches his cock into your plush heat. 

“Could be inside you all day,” Your back automatically arches as he caresses your waist, fingers digging into his broad shoulders as he pushes in further, his shaft falling deeper into your walls, “Atta girl."

All he can do his praise you. You're the prettiest sight he has ever seen and you never fail to make his chest hurt.

“Oh god,” You whine, as he presses his forehead to yours. You tilt your head, catching his lips in a heated kiss. He lets you adjust to his size as both of you moan into each other’s mouths. When he pulls back, his pupils are blown, and his lips parted.

“Can’t wait to ruin you all over again, sugar.”

[demonicbaby666]

Old Coping Mechanisms

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: JJ x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst ending in fluff 

Words: 3k+

Warnings: alcoholism, addiction, shouting, rape insinuation, swearing 

Summary: Y/n and JJ have been friends for a while and recently y/n has began distancing herself as her mental health crumbles. When the team takes a case in her home town, she is uncontrollably thrown into her traumatic past and she turns to an old coping mechanism. 

The team were coming back from y/n’s hometown, the chaotic events that had unfolded over the last few days had opened up old wounds she had kept hidden for years. No one on the team seemed the same after discovering the unforgiving darkness that lay beneath y/n’s hard exterior and in her past. Her whole career was built upon being a strong powerhouse, no one could penetrate her well-built sturdy walls that had offered her protection her whole adult life. Yet now, after this case, they knew she’d been taken advantage of years prior, they’d met the man that had repeatedly abused her, made her feel weak, and made her small. 

That’s how they saw her now, small, and it ripped at her insides every time they gave her pitiful sympathetic side-eye glances. Small was one thing she was not, she could take any unsub on, and irritatingly her abuser had to be one of them, but she fucking did it. Not any of the team, she arrested him. 

She traced the discoloured bruise now forming on her upper arm thinking back to how that sad excuse of a man showed her that in the years that had passed, he had in no way changed, still only wanting one thing from her. But she got away when she was younger and knew she would again. His recent victims weren’t so lucky, and she was not prepared to let the fucker get away after repeating the unspeakable things he did to her and worse to so many other vulnerable souls. 

When she was faced with her old abuser, she was not a victim anymore, she refused to let herself digress into that little girl again, she fought with every single muscle in her body and took him down, though he managed to get a few blows in first. 

Yes, she did what needed to be done and did it flawlessly, but away from the front she was putting on, memories had begun to resurface. They flooded every nerve of her body and forced her to relive the trauma over and over again. It was inescapable and she was drowning in a hazardous pit of unprocessed memories, too afraid to let anyone see. 

That’s when a hand planted itself on her shoulder, anchoring her back to reality. Her head shifted up and her eyes locked onto concerned ocean blues, goosebumps coated her skin as she studied the facial expressions on the blonde's face who was hovering above her, clearly worried. The feeling of her hand, even through the thin material of her shirt, usually elicited a small reaction from her, though she chalked it up to the low temperature of the blonde hands. But today the chill that ran down her spine was something she didn’t have the energy to contemplate. 

Ignoring her heart thumping against her chest, y/n shrugged off JJ’s hand and turned back to staring out the plane, suddenly engrossed in the shapes of the clouds and the landscape displayed below. Obviously not getting the hint the older woman sat herself across y/n and glued her eyes to her. It was hard not feeling the hard gaze on her and it was almost painful to continue to advert her eyes, but she did so. 

Y/n’s eyes remained out the jet window as she finally broke the gut-wrenching silence between the two women, knowing if JJ started she’d struggle reeling in her emotions and really didn’t need to break down with the whole team watching her. “I’m okay JJ, and no I don’t want to talk.” 

As the blonde opened her mouth she was interrupted, y/n had spent enough time with her to know what would come next, not even having to look to JJ to know she was preparing words of comfort,” And yes I’m fully aware it may help, and you have open ears, but I mean it when I say, I’m fine.” She slowly brought her eyes back to those piercing blue ones. 

Though she’d never outwardly admit it, those eyes brought her more comfort and warmth than a fire on a cold winter’s day. They always made her feel safe and understood, it was overpowering. The feelings entrapped her, she began to lose herself in the solace of JJ’s presence and the blues of her eyes. 

“I’m worried about you y/n. I-” she sighed and looked down at her hands, beginning the fiddle with her fingers in an attempt to calm her anxious mind, “I don’t want you to shut me out.  I won’t let you. I’m here, always.” 

A small smile crept onto the young woman’s face, and she tried to conceal it, biting down lightly on her lower lip and once again adverting her eyes out the window. She knew JJ would never know the full power she had over her, she also knew she never wanted to depend on anyone for comfort. Hyper independence seems to be a way of life these days. 

If someone had the power to make her feel this safe with only a few words, or even just a look, they held the power to tear it all away and throw it in her face. The shadow of the smile was all but gone as memories and doubt found their way back into the forefront of her brain once again.

Her hands were beginning the shake and the control she was maintaining over her body was slipping away like quicksand. Forcing her muscles into action, she stood tall and strong and made her way to the toilet before JJ could get another word in. Missing the blonde’s limp arm, which was reaching out to try and comfort her. 

The door shut behind her and she flicked the lock, images flashed over and over, her body was frozen as she gripped the sink of the small cubicle, knuckles turning white. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and she repeatedly cursed at both herself and the man that made her feel this way. There was nothing she could do, no escape, she was transported to the same cold dark room where she was repeatedly assaulted, and memories engulfed her as the world around her began to fade away. 

The journey to her apartment was a complete blur, she took a backseat and let herself run on autopilot. By the time she got into the dingy lounge and perched herself on the couch, her eyes wandered down to her hands. No reaction came when she saw the plastic bag containing a bottle of liquor. Somehow, she knew, she was the one that bought it, never registering it she walked into a store and reached for the only thing she knew helped.

It had been years since she found her sorrows at the bottom of a bottle, then again, it had been years since she’d been back home. The memories were back, and so it seemed were the same coping mechanisms. At least this way she could take control of being out of control, that’s what she told herself. JJ popped into her head, she pictured the concern that was painted on her face and the love that those eyes held during their brief conversation on the jet. 

She wanted to reach for her phone and call her, confide in her, the internal conflict was that would mean she’d be reliant on her, she’d be letting her in, and this time she would be a lot more vulnerable. Letting anyone see her like that was beyond frightening. Impulses took over instead and pushed her to crack the bottle open. 

Laying on the floor half a bottle of liquor gone, the room began to spin. But y/n told herself it was what she wanted, for the world to become fluid and mailable, she revelled in the way nothing felt real. It was easy to convince and deceive herself into believing, wholeheartedly, that everything was okay. 

A knock erupted and echoed off the walls of the apartment evoking a loud groan to escape from y/n’s lips. With alcohol racing through her bloodstream, restraint flew out the window and she refused to move from her comfort space, bellowing out, “Fuck off!” 

“Y/n, please.” From the other side of the door, JJ placed a hand softly on the door, she saw the pain seeping maliciously through the younger woman earlier and wanted nothing but to hold her. After the jet landed everyone saw y/n zone out and just assumed it was her way of managing. But JJ knew better, in the last few months they’d grown undeniably close, and she could read her like a book. 

The recent case may have opened the team’s eyes to the harsh reality of y/n’s vulnerability, but the blonde had been witnessing y/n slowly change for weeks. The timelines suddenly made sense, a couple of weeks ago would have been the anniversary of when it all happened to y/n, when the abuse started. She’d began to distance herself, push people away and the bags under her eyes were stubborn as ever. JJ was forced to watch as the woman who she holds so dear slipped away out of her grasp and into the depths of an endless pit of darkness.

She was just an innocent child. The image of y/n being alone, having to endure all the abuse with no one to turn to caused JJ’s heart to shatter into a million pieces. Enough was enough, she was not about to lose the one person who seemingly held the biggest place in her heart. She would not let her suffer alone, not again, not when she knew what that young girl had to do to survive. 

From the other side of the door, JJ heard shuffling and thanked her lucky stars y/n decided to not be stubborn that day. When the hinges of the door creaked y/n was in full view, aside from the crappy lighting it was evident from her whole demeanour that something was off. She hadn’t changed, still, in the same work attire, her posture was slumped, and she was practically swaying. When the older woman attempted to head into the apartment y/n made no effort to move out of the way, keeping her feet placed firm in the doorway. 

JJ threw her a confused look, and a slight pang of hurt coursed through her body. She felt herself wanting to give up, but she would not be deterred so easily. This was y/n’s way of pushing her away, shutting her out. Throw me off a cliff and I’ll bounce back, she thought to herself. 

With neither woman opting to talk first, JJ curiously inspected the apartment through the door, and that’s when she saw it, adorning the lounge carpet was a half-finished bottle of pure vodka. Anger, sorrow, and disappointment found its way to her face simultaneously. Not sure which one to focus on. Of course, she was disappointed, she didn’t want y/n to turn back to this, though she knew the pain she’d gone through was agonising and left so many mental scars. It was hard not to understand how a bottle of liquor seemed like a solution. 

JJ’s face morphed again and again and it was hard to place what the woman was feeling, y/n could practically see thoughts racing behind her eyes. She followed her eye line and saw what caused the visible change and slight distress in the woman, she rolled her eyes in hopes of normalising the situation and reducing it to JJ overreacting. She finally sternly spoke up looking at the bottle, “Don’t fucking get involved JJ.”

Before y/n had time to snap her head back around, a body barged into the apartment and almost knocked her off her unsteady footing. She followed the blonde as the stormed into her lounge, trying her very hardest not to lose her temper at the sudden intrusion. 

“JJ seriously what the fuck?!” 

The moment JJ entered the lounge she grabbed the bottle and accusingly held it up, “Really? After everything, you turn back to this?” She didn’t raise her voice and seemed surprisingly calm and intrigued. There they were again, those blue eyes staring straight at her, stubbornly refusing to look anywhere but at y/n. She felt her eyes glaze over and it became evident that JJ’s continuous concern was taking effect, she cursed the blonde for always finding the cracks in her impenetrable walls and slipping in to provide nothing other than unconditional love.

She didn’t want to turn back to this, it was all she knew. It was the only thing that used to help; the singular problem now was that she wasn’t alone anymore. She had people that cared and wanted to help in any way they could. The woman looking straight at her for answers what the one person who seemed to care the most. 

JJ was the only person who knew about her drinking, it was under control now and she’d found ways to still indulge but not depend on beverages. The one time she did overindulge she leaned on JJ for support, it was readily and unconditionally given. The alcohol-soaked night was a blur, but she knew one thing, after all the drunken confessions JJ never looked at her differently and that was something that meant the world to the younger woman. Even now catching her relapsing she saw the look in her eyes, she wasn’t pissed off, wasn’t pouring the alcohol down the sink, she wasn’t taking control of her. She just wanted to help and listen. 

All the emotions y/n had worked so hard to lock away came crashing in and she crumbled under JJ’s loving and concerned stare. Tears stung her eyes and hoping gravity would work on her side she bent her neck, looking up to the ceiling, alas the unrelenting tears still came. Running down the sides of her face and taking home in her baby hairs. 

Footsteps slowly approached her and she came face to face with the blonde. She was pulled into a warm embrace as a hand wrapped around her waist and the other around the back of her head. Y/n didn’t fight back when JJ used her hand to lower her head so she was nuzzled into the crook of the blonde neck. Breathing in the scent of her golden honey locks instantly calmed her. The hand previously on her waist was now on her lower back moving in small circles. The security seeping from the embrace was enough to cause y/n to shake uncontrollably as she finally allowed herself to emote freely. 

A small kiss was placed to the temple of her head, and she grabbed onto JJ for dear life never wanting to be let go again. It felt like home, something she’d never found, but it looked like it was because this was it. Home was in JJ’s arms, in her warm embraces, in the small timid smiles they shared, the laughs they exchanged. 

She picked her head up and carefully placed her hands on JJ’s shoulders, looking into those ocean-blue eyes, they now appeared puffier and redder. She examined the beautiful face before her very eyes, not understanding how she got so lucky to have JJ to lean on. Then salty tears rolled down the older woman’s face, y/n cursed herself for making this soft, kind, and caring woman cry. Using her fingers she lightly wiped away the tears that rolled over JJ’s cheeks before mustering up the courage to speak. 

“I don’t want my past,” she looked to the bottle that was now on the table, “that was the only way I knew how to cope. So, I stupidly turned back to it.” 

Blue eyes softened and y/n could swear she felt the hand on her waist tighten. The alcohol was numbing all of her senses and it was hard to keep a grip on the events unfolding. She saw JJ’s eyes travel down to her lips. Y/n reached out and tugged a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear. A smile appeared on her face as she revelled at how JJ’s eyes closed, and a breath of relief passed through those soft pink lips, tender lips begging to be kissed.

When JJ’s eyes fluttered open, she didn’t miss where the younger woman's eyes had settled. She realised somewhere between the crying and hugging both her hands were now firmly on y/n’s waist, which she was not complaining about. The smell of alcohol, unfortunately, deterred her from wanting to initiate anything, so she shuffled away a little from the close contact the two shared, earning her the most adorable saddening pout she’d ever seen y/n produce. 

With her hands still around the younger woman’s waist she continued, “I meant what I said before, I’m here, always. I want to help, I want to hold you, I want to protect you. I know no one can take away what happened to you, but this,” she gestured to the vodka, “isn’t the answer.”

“I know,” Y/n said lowering her head slightly, not for long though as a finger made its way under her chin to pick her head back up. 

They searched each other’s eyes for any doubt, darting back and forth between lips and eyes. It was taking too long, and y/n took things into her own hands, she pulled JJ in closer and was about to press their lips together when the finger previously on her chin pressed to her lips and stopped her just as their lips were about to meet. 

“I want you to promise me, you’ll call me next time. I- I care about you y/n and if this, us happens. It can’t be drunken kisses, it’s more for me, it’s always been more.” 

Before y/n could get a word in their lips met, and there in that kiss they formed an unspoken promise, this was her new way. JJ would hold her, keep her safe, and distract her in any and every way she could. 

The kiss itself was soft and slow, both women not wanting anything other than to enjoy the new sensations overtaking their bodies. Rejoicing in the softness of their lips gliding against one another. Time simply slipped away from them, until JJ heard three words against her lips causing heat to rush all over her body and a cheek-to-cheek grin to break out across her face.

“I love you.”

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[mr2swap]

Pizza

I was in my own hell, after having walked around the neighborhood a couple of times I was completely exhausted, with my shirt so wet that the fishnets and my fat tits stood out above all my obese 10-year-old body and the worst, After all, it wasn't even my real body. I got home trying not to pass out from exhaustion, and the first thing I see when I walk in is my real body devouring a pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni in my living room.

- Hey bro! Have you finished running? What do you think if you come here and accompany your older brother to eat pizza? I'm sure a slice won't hurt you! -

As I said, this was hell for me. When it all started I was the muscular and carefree older brother addicted to the gym and sex, but everything changed that damn day my envious younger brother found that damn magic necklace, tired of being the ball of childish fat that was swapping our bodies at once unknown way, for me it was the beginning of my nightmare I woke up in his small room and the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the grotesque ball of fat that he called stomach stuck to me, I jumped out of bed while my belly bounced as I walked clumsily to the mirror to check that I was no longer in my body.

When I looked in the mirror for the first time I couldn't help but cry on my knees when I saw that I had lost all my work at the gym, all my diet, and all my self-esteem, but that wasn't the worst, when I was finally able to recover a little From my sanity I went straight to my room, everything looked totally different now that I was an obese dwarf of 10 years, the walls looked higher and my house looked huge now that it was half the size of what it was the night before.

I went into my old room and what I found was my younger brother using my body to satisfy his desires, he was masturbating frantically with his arms bent in front of my mirror, looking at his body sculpted by all my work in the gym, his huge cock I was glued to the mirror reflecting each one of my huge muscles while my little brother used my tongue to lick each one of those sweaty muscles that he had stolen from me the night before, he hadn't even noticed me in my room until he stained everything. The mirror with hot stinky cum that I had been holding in to fill my girlfriend's hot pussy.

I think it's been 10 years since my brother stole my body, he promised me that he would return my warm body when I put his childish and obese body in shape, but that never happened, I spent all those years carrying the obese and lazy body of my brother and went through high school again receiving insults and nicknames from his bullies like "pig" or "faggot" while he had fun at college parties, showing off all my work in the gym and using my hot adult body to fuck all the guys. College students from my school.

I couldn't help myself from eating greasy and delicious food and we both went on with our lives. I grew up an obese teenager watching my little brother take over my life and slowly come out of the closet to fuck all my friends at the gym while I struggled to lose at least 2 pounds on his chubby ugly body but his body is horrible I can't stop eating greasy food and playing video games or watching anime for several hours a day while my butt is getting bigger and bigger.

In the end I never got my body back, and, and I have already lost hope of returning to my warm and thin body, since then I have not been able to stop eating and crying, life as an obese pig is horrible, and now I am 20 years old, and I have not been able to lose my virginity in my brother's fat and loser body, I grew up watching how I adored his body, he fucked a lot of handsome men in my room while I masturbated remembering what it was like to be fit and have a hot and thin body... And speaking of something hot, is there any pizza left in the fridge?

In a couple of days, it will be my older brother's wedding and he has chosen me as his best man... I just hope I don't gain weight so that my suit will fit, although I suspect that my “older” brother chose me a smaller size just to remind me what an obese and loser that and been half of this life.

sup guys! I'm back with another one of my old stories, if you want to see my 200+ stories you can take a look at my patreon and support me to continue creating bodyswap stories.

[acefms]

if you’re hearing LOSER by BECK playing, you have to know ACE MILLER (HE/HIM; CIS MALE) is near by! the 31 year old ANIMATOR has been in denver for, like, FIVE YEARS. they’re known to be quite AVOIDANT , but being AMIABLE seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble DREW STARKEY. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those LATE NIGHT DRIVES TO NOWHERE, SMUDGED INK AND PAINT SPLATTERS, WEARING SUNGLASSES INSIDE TO HIDE A HANGOVER, NEVER WALKING PAST A DOG WITHOUT SAYING HI vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRICT long enough!

NAME: ace miller AGE: thirty-one and oh so dumb ... HOMETOWN: philadelphia, pennsylvania BIRTHDAY: october 19th ZODIAC: libra GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him SEXUALITY: bi bi bi ( slight male lean ) RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single OCCUPATION: animator for tv shows/comics/movies — is currently working on his own comic (name tbd)

[ tw: gambling, addiction, abandonment, depression. ]

• Ace grew up in south Philadelphia with his mother and father until the age of seven, when after years of a toxic relationship his father left and never came back. Ace struggled with the abandonment throughout his life, but was lucky enough to have his grandfather who was more of a parent to him than anyone else could ever be. Through his grandfather he discovered his love and talent for art, and began to use it as his form of escapism. It was his saving grace during his turbulent teenage years. He would definitely derailed had it not been for art and the worlds he made in the comfort of his room.

• His mother was loving in her own way during his childhood, but was always driven by materialistic possessions that she couldn’t afford. Her job as bartender just wouldn’t cut it, and she began to gamble. But after a few wins, she found herself hooked on the feeling and soon developed an addiction that grew out of control. Ace had to take on two jobs before he was finished with high school just to help pay off her debts which left him drained to the point that he struggled to keep up. He sank into deep depression and found it hard to get out.

• Despite this, she continued to try and live lavishly behind his back while he was on the verge of a mental breakdown due to how many things he had to juggle at once. By the time he graduated high school, he’d grown to resent her completely and she continued to put her addiction, and boyfriends, above him. They have no relationship at this present time and he has no current desire to ever see her again.

• Leaving for college ( which his grandfather had paid for ), he gained a dual-degree in graphic design and animation and built his way up in the business, taking a good few hits before finally landing his dream job working in film and tv, online content as well as comics. He genuinely loves his job and it’s probably the one aspect of his life he’s completely happy with. He is very creative and has several little worlds inside his head.

• He travelled for years, moving at least every six months before finally settling in Denver in attempt to build some kind of solid life, but so far the only part he’s got right is raising a a crazy pup named charlie and gaining a lifelong best friend in the form of his roommate theodore.

HEADCANNONS

• he never sleeps before 2am and never wakes before 10am. he will literally be acting like it’s the middle of the day in the middle of the night.

• he’s a terrible cook. he can heat things up and make basic stuff, but overall he’s kinda hopeless. someone help him.

• he drinks way too much coffee, and too often occasionally too much whiskey and beer. randomly likes to get high a few times a month if he needs a little help falling asleep. will be seen with sunglasses on constantly to hide who zombie-like/hungover he is.

• before he realized his mothers addiction he would often take trips with her as a young boy to vegas or places alike ( most of, but not all, his time was spent waiting for her in hotel rooms ) so he’s actually really decent at playing poker because she taught him how to play. but ace hates to gamble.

• during his time travelling he’s spent a lot of time sleeping in his car ( when he wasn’t abroad ) and he actually really enjoys the outdoors. likes to hike with his pup. also is likely to end up with a million dogs.

• he has a small ace of spades tattoo on the inside of his middle finger on his left hand -- he got it as a dare when he was drunk at seventeen. he hates it, but he’ll never get rid of it. he also has a fingers crossed tattoo on his right forearm, and a melting smiley face on his right index finger. more tbh he has at least ten. random tattoo supremacy. i'll add more when i can think.

• aside from his cartoons, he also loves to paint, sketch, play around with pottery and just get as creative as possible with anything artistic whatsoever. it's his safe space, his own form of therapy in a way. though he doesn’t let many people see the results as somehow they feel a lot more personal than his cartoon/animation work.

POSSIBLE / WANTED CONNECTIONS

roommate/ best friend -- taken by theodore cohen.

past flings/hook-ups -- ashamed to say there's been many. ace struggles with emotional vulnerability and absolutely runs from things.

childhood friends -- god forbid anyone knew him when he was openly sad, haha. jokes to disguise emotional damage for the win.

people who don't like him -- he's annoying, it's so likely.

party pals -- you're his favourite people.

a cousin ? aunt, uncle -- there will probably be some tension as his family is a mess, but this could be fun to play out.

idk he's an idiot give me everything.

[amore-hudson]

🌦  «  richard madden.  cismale.  he/him/his.  36.  »  was  that  BECK  HUDSON  walking  through  the  doors  of  amorelux  ?  i  heard  they  just  moved  in  to  apartment  604  from  SALEM, OREGON  and  work  as  a  fisherman, former marine.  they  seem  staunch  &  authentic  but  don’t  get  on  their  bad  side  !  they  can  be  confrontational  &  temperamental  which  makes  sense  since  they’re  an  ARIES.  you  know  they’re  home  when  you  see  a  flash  of  a deep-rooted frown etched into harsh features, a faint waft of salt water and fish, the pronounced steps of an irregular gait, and loud sounds at all hours of the night.  

trigger warning: ptsd, insomnia, marine service, death/near death, (leg) amputation, body image, therapy, survivor’s guilt, pain meds addiction

it’s hudson. just hudson.

legitimately, the worst neighbor.  he’ll play loud music or tv at all hours of the day and night, if he’s home. there’s always random sounds or banging going on. why? because insomnia and ptsd can keep him up and active and he’s’ got to do something to exhaust himself. does he care what the neighbor’s think? absolutely not. it could be 2:41am and hudson will be up, his apartment a mess, because he decided now was the time to create a new bench for the kitchen island.  and if you complain? he’ll just be worse, because he’s a petty dick.

as you can imagine, hudson isn’t a peach of a person. he’s rude, uncouth, and extremely bitter. ‘grumpy’ is an understatement. it’s like this man has no joy, or like he’s never heard of a smile. there’s just some black cloud that follows him around and he’s not here to make friends. in fact, he’d rather you just leave him the heck alone. will he leave you alone? hard to say. but nobody ever said he wasn’t a hypocrite. 

no, he wasn’t always this way. life started out in what became normal to him, as a military brat. about every two years, they’d be in a new environment, his parents stationed somewhere new. because of this, he never really formed any connections with others and grew to understand the only person he could rely on, was himself. everyone else either got taken away or waved goodbye. he just got sick of thinking maybe this time would be different. 

since the military life was already everything he knew, it was only natural he followed in their footsteps. hudson enlisted in the marines and served three tours, each one harder than the last. he barely started the 4th before everything that could go wrong, did. his unit was taken by surprise -- some of the men and women he’d finally had some form of relationship with, were gone. he nearly died, too. people said he was lucky to be alive, and hudson? well, he wasn’t exactly the same anymore. they had to take his left leg from the knee down and it’s been difficult to get over since. 

hudson spent over a year in the hospital to recover and go through therapy. physical therapy, as well. he struggled with the memories, with sleepless nights. he struggled to accept himself as he was now, because he couldn’t change it. it was hard not to be resentful and bitter, all the while knowing he was as lucky as they said. he could have died. he’s not proud for the thoughts he’s had. there’s a lot of survivor’s guilt to unpack and yeah, he struggles to talk about that too. because he was never raised to feel like it was okay to be vulnerable.

he moved in here after it opened, as a favor from his father’s wealthy friend. a connection of him knowing someone who felt sorry and wanted to give him a chance to be on his own feet again. since he’s been honorably discharged, hudson has since gotten into the fisherman’s business because it’s hard, physically grueling work. some days, if he’s lucky, he’ll pass out the second he gets home and actually get a few hours sleep. but he definitely pays for it physically. in the past year, his reliance on pain medication has kicked up.

so yeah, he’s open for any and all connections. basically he’s not a very happy man and wears that, obviously. he’s likely going to be moody and rude, but deep down, i promise there is a decent person in there that just takes a lot of patience and digging to get to. ultimately, he’s just struggling to accept everything that’s changed and scared to form attachments because, well, he’s used to losing them and getting the short-end of the stick. very much a pessimist and realist. 

would love to have connections with his surrounding neighbors (above and below, too!) where they’re subject to his terrible commotions at all hours of the day. he still goes to physical therapy and the occasional re-fitting for new prosthetics. but you’ll probably spot him at the gym or around the apartments doing something, because he still tries to behave like he can still do it all. even if it comes at risk of himself. 

please feel free to hit me up on discord or messages! <3 @amoreluxintro

[labradorite-princess]

how did you apply for disability i need tips and do they come over to your house. How is the process

Hey! I hope I can help. I'm in the US. I'm not sure if it's different in other countries.

My biggest tips are:

Be prepared to wait. It took around 10 months for me to hear their descison. I called a few times to see what as going on. That may be a good idea for you to do too. When you call there may be a long wait too. Even when I call about my benefits now I get long waiting times. Last month I waited over an hour and a half. This may depend on what state you live in.

The application is HORRIBLE! They ask the same questions over and over again. At least the online application does. I know there's a way to apply over the phone but I've never done that. I cried while filling it out. It's exhausting. Take lots of breaks. I took like three days to fill out the whole thing with my moms help.

I've heard most ppl get denied the first time. You can appeal tho. Don't get discouraged. Ppl normally get lawyers when this happens. I'm sure they have reviews online for good ones. I believe if you get approved the lawyer will get a portion of the money you get for waiting to be approved. You only get money if you're approved tho. They give you a portion of your monthly income. From what I understand most lawyers will only want money if you win.

They did not come to my house. It may be different depending on what disablity(s) you have. I have mental health disabilities so I'm not exactly sure what they do for physical disablities. My mom's friend is also on disability and she has said nothing about them coming to her house. My mom applied and was denied but they never came to our house. And she applied bc of her back. The only thing I can think of is that for my insurance I can agree to have someone come and check in on my living situation. But that's 100% my choice. They don't force that to happen. And that is the insurance I have currently. Which I got when I was approved.

You may need to see doctors your state has approved. My mom had to do that. We went and they took X-Rays and I'm not sure what else. After they did that she talked to someone about her mental health. I had to come with for this part. They wanted her to bring another person to get their side of what is going on. I went in by myself. They asked about what house work she can/can't do. How often she leaves the house. Does she have specific depression symptoms (ex - staying in bed all day or sleeping all day). Stuff like that. I was REALLY nervous but the man was v nice and welcoming. I did not have to see doctors the state chose. I have over a decade of information recorded about my mental heath. I've been seeing mental health professionals since the age of 14. I also did long term programs right before I applied. I did PHP (Partial Hospitalization Program). That lasted over a month. I went Monday - Friday from 7am to 2pm. They taught skills ppl can use to help when their symptoms get bad and skills to help your mental health stay on track. I saw therapists and a psychiatrist and social workers everyday. We did group therapy everyday. I liked that. It took me a while to open up and start talking more but torwards the end I did. I was almost done with the program when I had my breakdown. I ended up going to a Pysch Ward for a week and then did a month in a Residental program. The Pysch Ward depend on where you go. The ones I've been to have been nice. Residential is v similiar to rehab but without the struggle of addiction. I spent a month there. I saw a regualr therapist and a Cognitive Behavioral Therapist every weekday. I saw a women once a week that specialized in eating disorders. Residential is actually the place I finally admitted I have them. They have specially trained staff who check on you throughout the day. I had Art and Recreational Therapy two to three times a week. I saw a Psychiatrist twice every week. What I'm trying to say is I had a lot documented about my mental health. I applied right after I went home from Residential so all the info was brand new. Sorry I got a little carried away with the info about me. If you or anyone else has any questions about Pysch Wards or Residential Programs please feel free to ask me.

They may need you to send in more or the same info in to them that was on the application. I believe you can pick how they contact you. I think the only options are by mail or email. You can drop the info off to their office, mail it in, some can be done online, or fax it in. I chose to have both options of contact. That way if I missed an email or a letter got lost in the mail then I had a second way of seeing the info they wanted to give me.

If you get approved please look into programs they offer to help. They really do help. My insurance offers a program (UCard) where they give you $189 a month for over the counter medical supplies and healthy food. You can still get Food Stamps/EBT but it won't be much. And if you stay up to date on you health appointments they add (a small) amout of money onto the card for you. I think like $10 if you get a physical exam or a flu shot. That's actually why I have someone coming to look at my living situation. Every little bit helps.

If you have any more questions don't be afraid to ask. I'm sure I missed at least one thing. I hope you have a good day/night.

[fanthropology]

I went to a korean spa for the first time today. The first spa I’ve ever been to, the first treatment, first massage. I’m 40. These things have always felt too indulgent to me, but I’m working on self care and a friend suggested going, so we went.

I went for an experience - scrub, massage, facial, and then foot rub.

It was… truly an experience. For one thing, I realized that actually, I have never fully relaxed in my entire life. I’ve always struggled to be present in my body, to meditate, to be still.

My brain basically went away during the experience. I was thinking, I was writing, I was planning, but I was far away. And at the same time, feeling the sensations on my body.

Afterwards, I was very relaxed. So relaxed I laid on a mat for 90 minutes, unable to speak. Meditating. And honestly, it was equivalent to the highest I have ever been in my entire goddamn life. I stared into my own eyes in a mirror while meditating, completely blank, no thoughts.

When I could finally stand up and be a person again, I spent fifteen minutes writing down what I’d composed in my head, before I could really speak. I went home and cleaned the house, watched an episode of South Park, did some laundry, and fell asleep.

If I had this many endorphins all the time, I can only imagine what I could accomplish.

I can see how people might get addicted to the spa. I spent some time considering if it was possible I’d ingested something.

We decided we need to do it at least once a quarter, but I’m already thinking of who else would want to go with me.

[newsworld-nw]

Yvette Nicole Brown Emotionally Reflects on Friendship with 'Odd Couple' Co-Star Matthew Perry (EXCLUSIVE)

Yvette Nicole Brown Trying again fondly on the time spent with the deceased Matthew Perry.Brown stated she was "heartbroken" by the information of Perry's premature loss of life and spent the previous few hours reliving their moments collectively and going by outdated pictures."The very first thing, when somebody passes, you instantly undergo your footage such as you wish to keep in mind the moments, and so I scrolled by a whole lot of my footage from once we labored collectively," Brown shared. "It introduced again so many reminiscences of how form he was."Perry's in depth kindness and generosity is a component of his character that stands out for Brown."There's been a whole lot of discuss his comedy, and his potential to lighten the load along with his items. However his best reward was his coronary heart," Brown stated. "He did not take himself too severely. He realized he was terribly blessed."Trying again, Brown mirrored on the final time he had contact with Perry, which was when His candid and revealing memoir -- Mates, Lovers, and Massive Scary Issues -- got here out final November."I despatched him a textual content to congratulate him as a result of one in every of his best joys later in life was with the ability to assist individuals the place he was," Brown shared. "I used to be very pleased with him for his composure. I used to be very pleased with him for being as susceptible as his e-book."Brown explains that it is terribly troublesome to be open and sincere with individuals about your internal demons -- particularly while you're a public determine."It is very laborious to confess that you just're unhappy, or to confess that you just're struggling, or to confess that you just're an addict and you have fallen off the wagon," Brown shared. "On odd couple, Once we have been working with Matthew, we had a front-row seat to his battle, and we beloved him, and we wished to guard him, and we did the most effective we might whereas working with him."Matthew Perry along with his 'Odd Couple' co-stars Yvette Nicole Brown and Lindsay Sloane. - Vincent Sandoval/WireImage"For him to return out and admit the place he was at the moment, apologize to them, after which promise to make use of what he discovered to assist another person overcome it, was every part," Brown added.One specific reminiscence that stood out for Brown, when eager about their time collectively on the sitcom -- which ran for 3 seasons from 2015-2017 -- occurred "early in our working collectively.""I nonetheless do not keep in mind why, however Matthew wanted a trip house from the set. And I used to be like, 'I will do it.' And I bought to trip with him for like 40 minutes and we simply talked about life and he informed me about rising up and his profession and what he is discovered and what he is discovered by dependancy," Brown recalled. "And I informed him about my I'll maintain that particular dialog once we first met near my coronary heart for the remainder of my life As a result of I felt like I actually bought a style of who he was, and it was simply me and him being my little Volvo.""She was stunning," shared an emotional Brown. "She was actually stunning."Finally, Brown defined that the explanation he wished to speak about Perry and share his reminiscences of the actor was that he hoped it might "humanize" him past his struggles."(I hope) that individuals will see the person behind the comedic legend. And we will have fun that his hope and pleasure helped others survive what he struggled with most of his life," Brown stated. "I hope he's remembered as a fighter. I hope he's remembered as somebody who by no means gave up hope. I hope he's remembered as a good friend.""As a result of he actually was," he added. "He was a good friend. He was a good friend. He was a very good time. He was a vibe. You understand? So I hope that when individuals consider him, they smile."Monty Brinton/CBS by way of Getty PicturesIn keeping with studies from TMZ, Those that spoke with legislation enforcement companies, and Los Angeles InstancesOn Saturday, October 28, Matthew was discovered lifeless in a sizzling tub at a house in Los Angeles, California."I can't touch upon what was or was not recovered from the scene, because the investigation is ongoing," added Captain Williams.Nevertheless, he stated that "the LA County Medical Examiner carried out an post-mortem, however the dedication of Mr. Perry's reason for loss of life has been deferred, pending toxicology outcomes."On Sunday, the late actor's household launched a press release mourning their loss."We're heartbroken on the tragic lack of our beloved son and brother," relations, who spoke on situation of anonymity, stated in a press release. assertion individuals. "Matthew introduced a lot pleasure to the world as an actor and good friend."Thanking those that honored Matthew's life and legacy, the assertion continued, "You all meant a lot to him and we respect the unprecedented outpouring of affection."Perry by no means married however was briefly engaged to Molly Hurwitz for six months in 2021. He's survived by his mom, Suzanne Marie Morrison, and his father, John Bennett Perry.Associated Content material: #Yvette #Nicole #Brown #Emotionally #Displays #Friendship #Odd #Couple #CoStar #Matthew #Perry #EXCLUSIVE Read the full article

[rylandjennings]

RYLAND JENNINGS: SONGWRITING CAREER

ACCOLADES - Multiple songs reached the top 20 on the US charts (Billboard and Rolling Stones) - “Rock and A Hard Place” reached #10 on the US Billboard Top 100 charts before ever being released as to radio due to popularity gained on TikTok

THE STORY BEHIND THE SONGS:

I HATE ALABAMA // Connor Smith [ X ]

Sitting in a writing room sharing their worst break up stories, one of the guys mentions that he was dating a girl who went to Alabama for college while he was attending the University of Tennessee, and he’d go down to visit her every chance he got. Ryland’s fingers instantly started twitching in anticipation, grabbing a pen and his notebook. The three other writers still tease him about how he missed everyone else’s story, but mostly just because they’re in awe of the fact that he came up with the lines ‘I drove there every weekend the Vols weren’t home at Neyland / Girl, you had this Tennessean seein’ ten years down the road" in addition to the general bulk of the chorus in under five minutes.

SAVE YOURSELF // Nate Kenyon [ X ]

When Cade showed up at Ryland’s Nashville apartment, he swore he was sober. They hadn’t seen each other in six years, and somehow it felt like Ryland was twelve years old again, watching his older brother struggle to get something done for school. Cade had struggled with addiction for years at this point, and Ryland knew he wasn’t supposed to give him money. He cleaned all the alcohol out of his place, made sure not to invite over any friends who smoked weed or did harder drugs. It didn’t matter that Ry spent all his free time trying to keep Cade on the right path. Cade started stealing stuff from Ryland and his roommates almost instantly, selling anything he could get his hands on so he could score. After three weeks, Ry finally had enough evidence in his corner to justify kicking Cade out. It was the single hardest thing he’s ever done, and he spent the rest of night writing this song. He sent the voice memo to Cade’s number, but it didn’t go through because Cade had blocked him again. Ryland hasn’t talked to Cade since then, and he's pretty sure he wouldn't even know what to say..

LONDON // Filmore [ X ]

Ryland visited London for a songwriting event, his first trip outside of the United States. On the flight over, he was up while the rest of his row slept, scrolling through his phone clearing out anything he could to make room for all of the great content he was sure he’d write. Seven days in London was bound to inspire, right? Coming across an old list of places his ex-girlfriend had wanted to visit nearly stopped him in his tracks, and Ryland instantly felt a gaping hole in his chest. He wrote this song after the first day of sightseeing, having visited every place on the list and imagining her with him the entire time. He didn’t post any photos of the trip online and hasn’t ever told the girl this song is about her or his trip.

BLINDSIDED // Kelsea Ballerini [ X ]

Ryland has written for both Kelsea and Morgan Evans, her ex-husband, and he even attended their wedding. He was closer with Kelsea through work, but overall was a big supporter of their wedding. One night, his phone rang and Kelsea let him know they were seperating. Ryland, a firm believer in love winning, tried to understand by asking some questions. When Kelsea told him that Morgan had just dropped a new song painting himself as the victim when he was equally to blame, Ryland grabbed his guitar and met her at her place. They listened to Morgan’s son together and immediately penned a response, one that really helped him understand that flawed relationships are real. It was his first real look into how complicated and confusing love can be, and how people can be so in love and fall out of it over time.

FISH IN THE SEA // Dustin Lynch [ X ]

Eight guys, six days, one incredible bachelor party in Mexico. Ryland couldn’t imagine a better way to celebrate one of his best friends getting married. Well, he didn’t think he could… until he got off the plane and heard the voicemail from his girlfriend telling him she was moving out before he got home and not to worry when her stuff was gone. Ryland had been planning to start looking at rings a few weeks later, but it sounded like she was determined to go. He texted her a single thumbs up emoji so she knew he’d gotten her message, stopped at an airport bar and knocked back three shots before he even pulled his bags off baggage claim. The rest of the guys were pretty pumped to have "Fun Ryland" with them for the trip, and one night a few of them started talking about being single in Mexico being the best way to rebound. This song came that next afternoon when they sat down with their guitars at the resort’s tiki bar.

[twinkleimagines]

Hiii drew smut where they meet from Madison and have been talking and then the cast plus y/n go out clubbing and they confess there feelings / also can drew be rough.

*Keep it on the low*

Warning: smut and language.

I got carried away with this one so I hope you guys like.

“ I just feel like we never see each other anymore “ you spoke over the phone Bailey.

“ I know” she whined out. “ listen we’ll fly you out this weekend so we can hang and you can meet my friends okay? You’re going to love them “ she insisted.

“ okay” you agreed, the feeling of excitement rushing through you. Madison was your best friend since middle school and it had been a touch transition since she began filming her new tv show, Outer Banks. Of course you talked on the phone but it wasn’t the same, and you missed her truly.

You had almost became envious of her new cast mates because they were daily posting videos and pictures with each other and it made you miss her more than ever .

You quickly went back to your bedroom, packing a suit case- the weekend couldn’t come any faster .

****

“ I’m walking down the escalator now” you spoke as you sat on the phone with Madison trying to find your way to her.

“ okay - wait I think I see you” she spoke out.

“ y/n!” You heard someone yell from in front of you. You lifted your head only to see Madison standing at the bottom of the escalator, her hand waving at 90 miles per hour.

“ Maddy!” You yelled before jogging your way down the already moving steps.

“ oh my gosh!” You yelled out as you both wrapped each other in a tight hug.

“ I’m gonna cry “ she spoke as she squeezed her arms around your shoulders.

“ ugh I know I’ve missed you so much” you poured .

“ c’mon we’ve only got the weekend and I have soooo much to show you” she insisted, tugging on your arm .

****

The ride to Madison’s hotel that she was staying it a was a bit of a drive from the apartment. She was staying pretty close to the beach and Charleston was probably one of the most beautiful cities you had ever laid your eyes on.

Madison had updated you on a lot, including a new girl she was talking to as well as her new friends and their characters on the show.

“ this Rafe guy sounds like a dick” you joked.

“ yeah but you’ll love Drew he’s literally polar opposite than his character . “

******

"Ahhh she's back!" a blonde headed boy beamed, running over towards your friend, ingulfing her in a hug.

"Rudy this is Y/n" She said with a wide smile, pulling you over.

"Hi" You beamed holding your hand out but Rudy instead pulled you into a hug.

"So glad you finally made it. Maddie over here wouldn't shut up about how much she missed you" He joked.

"Awe Maddie " You said with a sympathetic pout.

"Shut up" She laughed while rolling her eyes before pulling you further into the hotel.

"Guys" She spoke out loudly to a group of people sitting on her couch causing all of their eyes to advert towards you. " This is Y/n" She announced pulling you up next to her.

You awkwardly waved, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as she practically put the spot light onto you.

"I'm Chase" One guy said leaning over the couch, holding his hand out.

"I'm Madelyn " The blonde girl next to him said standing up, walking over towards you. " it's nice to meet you" she beamed, pulling you into a hug.

'Okay so everyone is big into hugs,' you thought. You smiled widely at her before you looked over at another one walking towards you.

"I'm Jonathan Daviss, but you can call me JD" He spoke. you nodded excitedly.

"That's a cool nickname" you beamed, causing a smile to form on his face. You then looked over towards the last face on the couch.

Woah.

Now this man- he almost took your breath away. He stood up, his tall figure stretching high towards the ceiling.

"Hi, i'm Drew" He spoke, his voice the perfect tone, almost sounded like music to your ears. He had these sky blue eyes, perfectly pink lips, a little bit of fuzz on his jaw from being recently shaved, and brown hair draped over the sides of his forehead, parting perfectly down the middle. Your heart began to pound as he reached his hand out for you to shake. You hadn't realized you were staring until Madison nudged you with her elbow, bringing you out of your trance.

"Oh uhm yeah- i mean hi I'm y/n" You stuttered embarrassingly. He smiled a bright smile, his white teeth shining perfectly on his perfectly aligned face.

You sighed deeply. You never believed in love at first sight until now. How perfect this stranger was to you. If it weren't for you not wanting to humiliate yourself even more than you already were, you would've continued looking at him with admiration, but instead you turned your head to look at Maddie, trying to not to creep the poor guy out.

"okay guys I'm starving" Chase spoke up as the room filled with silence. "who wants to go eat?" He asked throwing his hands up. You grinned , already loving everyone's bubbly personality.

You sat your bag down onto the ground before tucking your hair behind your ear, watching as everyone began to make their way out the door.

"After you" Drew said, you and him being the last ones left in the room.

"Thanks" you said softly, walking out in front of him as he held the door open for you.

Who would've known that this would only the beginning of a very special relationship.

********

"Drew" You spoke out before his lips placed onto yours once again, his hand placed firmly on your thigh as your were tangled in his hair.

"Hmm" He hummed against your lips, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

"We should tell them" You breathed out in between kisses.

"Mmm" he mumbled, his eyes closed as his lips trailed down your jaw towards your neck.

"I'm serious Drew I don't want to hide you anymore" You responded pulling away from him.

He stopped his movements, making eye contact with you.

"You sure?" He asked.

You and Drew had instantly hit it off that first weekend Madison brought you over.

It had happened the first night you had stayed the night. Everyone had fallen asleep and you and Drew stayed up for hours on hours endlessly talking about anything and everything. The sparks were flying. You were so engaged in every word that came out of his mouth, his sentences sounding like lullabies to your ears.

Before you had left you both had exchanged numbers and before you could even make it to the airport you were both texting each other. Throughout the first week you both spent every night on the phone until one had fallen asleep. It had almost became addictive the way he made you feel.

Neither of you spoke of your friendship to anyone though. Mainly wanting to take things slow but you also didn't want to upset anyone or cause any issues between Drew and Madison. He assured you it wouldn't upset anyone or cause issues but at the same time he wanted to respect your wishes and keep things a secret.

You both had been virtually seeing each other for three weeks before he flew you out for a weekend, just the two of you. You had stayed with him the whole weekend, movie nights and a lot of sex.

This week though you were invited by the whole group, and right now you were hidden off in Drew's hotel hiding from the group with Drew laid on top of you, the both of you shirtless.

"We can tell them tonight okay, i just want to enjoy the time we have together right now" He insisted. You simply nodded before leaning your head forward before placing your lips against his once again.

Drew sat up, smirking at you as he tugged on your jeans, pulling them down your thighs, exposing your pink laced panties that complimented your skin so well.

"So beautiful" Drew mumbled as his hands massaged against your thighs before reaching up towards your panties pulling them down as well. He reached over to the nightstand grabbing the condom on the top before pushing his own pants down, exposing his hardened pink shaft, the veins popping out the side.

You stared in admiration at the size as he placed the rubber over him.

"Flip over" he instructed. You quickly obliged, your face in his pillow. He tucked his arm under your waist, pulling your hips bag some to wear your bottom was pointed upwards.

You gasped loudly as you felt his tip insert into you, stretching your walls around him.

"fuck" you moaned out as he pushed into you, his hips pressed against your cheeks before he pulled back out, letting your own juices help lubricate him before he pushed back in at a faster speed.

"Fuck you're tight" Drew groaned out as he slowly pulled himself of you again, leaving just the tip in. You looked over your shoulder, smirking up at him as he looked down at you, his Adams apple poking out. Drew sighed heavily , closing his eyes for a brief second almost coming undone right then and there just from the sight of you.

He finally regained his composer, looking back down at you before pressing his hand onto the back of your head pushing your face further into the pillow before he began moving his hips once again, this time at a much faster pace.

"God Drew" you cried out as he hit your spot with each thrust, your hands balling in a fist around his sheets as you struggled to breath, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you were receiving. You arched your back further against Drew, giving him more access to go deeper into you, your hips moving causing your walls to tighten around him.

"Fuck" He breathed out, lowing his head some as we watched himself sliding in and out of you, his abs flexing with each thrust.

"Oh yes daddy yes "You moaned out, reaching behind you, grabbing hold of his hand that was placed on your bottom.

"You like that baby?" He asked before placing a firm smack against your left cheek. You hissed out , biting down on your bottom lip as your eyes focused on his body jerking forward over and over again, every inch of his body flexing as he moved himself in and out of you.

Since that first weekend you and Drew had spent together alone, he had learned more and more ways to work your body, especially when he realized you enjoyed it rough like him.

"Pull my hair baby" you pleaded, attempting to tug on his hand that had a firm grip on your hip while your body continued rocking back and forth.

Drew quickly obliged, reaching up to grab a hand full of your hair, pulling you back towards him, your back arched to where your arms stretched out, your hands placed against his pillows.

"God yes" You winced out, a slight stinging as he had a tight grip on your hair.

"Fuck princess" he groaned feeling his climax beginning to build. His thrusts began to speed up, your tits bouncing in the air as he continued to pound into you. You leaned up some, arm wrapping around his neck . You both began to lower, you practically sitting in his lap as he leaned back, propped up on one arm as the other had his hand wrapped against your throat. His thrusts were now at a steady but rough pace, slamming up against you as he placed sloppy kisses alongside your shoulder.

"God" He groaned out as his thrusts slowed down, turning more into grinds as his cock pulsed inside you, his warm load filling the condom. You begin rocking your hips back and forth along him riding your own high out, moaning his name out loudly as your toes curled, your climax euphoric. You climbed off of Drew, flopping your body down onto the his bed, breathing heavily as you ran your hands through your hair.

"That was amazing" you breathed out. Drew nodded, himself out of breath as well.

"I'm gonna get a shower" He responded as he stood up, his member beginning to soften. "We gotta meet everyone in two hours. Wanna join?" He asked. You smiled up at him before nodding, grabbing ahold of his reached out hand.

*****

"Finally" Madison groaned as she saw you climbing out of the black SUV that escorted you to the night club you and the gang were linking up at .

"Sorry got caught up" you responded brushing the hair out of your face as the wind blew against it.

"I can see" she chuckled, her eyes focused on the round purple hickey on your collarbone. Your eyes widened, you had almost forgotten about it. You had saw the hickey as you did your make up and Drew's shower but had forgotten to cover it.

"Who were you with?" She asked out of curiosity but you only shook your head, pretending to be shy about your actions.

"ugh okay come on everyone else is inside" She responded. You nodded before tugging slightly on your black dress as it rode up your thighs. You had your hair down with white sneakers on, a simple butterfly necklace and a skin tight strapless dress on that barely that went down a few inches on your thighs.

The music was loud, everyone definitely lit as you both walked in. Your eyes roamed the club. It was definitely a party style. There a lot of people around dancing, and neon objects glowing in the black lights. Madison guided you to the corner booth your shared friends resided in, including Drew.

""You look so cute!" Madelyn beamed as she wrapped you in a tight hug.

"You too babes" You responded, well yelled as you placed your chin on her shoulder, only to see Drew standing behind her, his eyes focused on your body. He almost looked upset. Seeming how you were still on the low about your relationship you didn't confront him, but you did check him out from afar. He stood on the side next to JD black denim jeans with a white striped button up collared shirt, with his signature gold chain around his neck and a black watch on his wrist.

Despite just getting your back blown out by Drew, you had to leave before anyone came searching for you so you didn't get to see Drew dressed up, the last image you had of him was of him in a towel and his wet hair slicked back.

He was looking so good at this point you had to distance yourself from him before you made it obvious of your secret.

"Come dance" Madelyn pleaded tugging on your arm.

"I need to be drunk before i get onto the dance floor" You joked. Madelyn though took you serious and walked over to the bar, ordering at least two shots for everyone since you were each going to be getting an Uber back to the hotels.

"Okay drink up" She responded holding both yours and her shot in the air. You quickly glanced over towards your secret boyfriend who was watching you intensely before you tossed your head back opening your throat, letting the alcohol burn its way down your throat.

"phew" you said, a shiver following shortly after.

"Okay, One more " Madelyn insisted. You didn't plan to get shit faced of course , but you were definitely interested in a good time so you obliged, repeating the same action again, this time the liquids going down a bit easier. You both stood for a second in silence before she shook her head.

"I think one more with do us justice " She grinned. You chuckled, already feeling a slight buzz coming as the alcohol spread through your blood stream.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" You heard someone mumble from behind you. You looked over to see Drew standing behind you. You furrowed your brows together. How the hell did he get over there so fast?

"Don't " you mumbled before looking down at the table trying to avoid his gaze. "You're making it obvious" You responded before taking a step away, turning your back towards him.

Unfortunately you didn't notice how much those words actually upset Drew. IT had almost felt like he was an embarrassment to you with how much effort you put in to hiding him so he walked away, finding his way back next to JD.

"You okay man?" JD asked as he saw the obvious frown on Drew's face.

"Yeah man" He mumbled as he looked across the both of them, watching you quickly gulp away yet another shot of alcohol, bursting into laughter shortly after with Madelyn. He shook his head in disappointment. Of course he wanted you to have fun but he just didn't want you to get so waisted you end up doing something you regret and him not being able to help you since you didn't want him to show his affection towards you in front of everyone.

"Want a shot?" Drew asked glancing over at JD who also looked not too amused at the moment with the environment and in need of some lighting up. They both watched you and Madelyn make your way to the dance floor, merging in with the crowd as the quickly took their first shot, both of them sighing heavily as they attempted to mask the burning feeling.

You immediately began swaying your hips to the upbeat music, the alcohol coursing through your body, giving you an almost out of body type feeling, something you usually didn't get unless you were in bed with Drew.

You didn't intend to jump into the party that fast. after 2 songs Chase had came by with more shots, unaware to the previous t3 you both had taken but neither of you denied them, quickly throwing your head back, wiping the drips off your chin as you looked over at Drew who surprisingly paid you no attention. You dancing slowed down as you realized the group Drew was associating with.

You could see JD and Rudy with Drew which was not an issue. it was the 3 bimbos standing with them too, one in particular standing too close for your comfort towards Drew, her index finger twirling in a poorly curled strand of hair.

You rolled your eyes, jealously now running through you. It was obviously intensified from the alcohol but you wanted to drag him away from the girls and show those girls exactly who he belonged to but you knew you couldn't say anything considering you and him were a secret.

"Hi" You heard from behind you. It was a tall brunette guy, pretty stocky with what looked to be hazel eyes and curly brown hair. At least that what you guessed since the dance floor was only lit up from black lights above you.

"Hi" You said with a friendly smile before turning back around, a frown forming as you noticed Drew laughing at whatever the girl closest to him just said.

"You got a name?" The guy asked, dancing behind you. You turned your head, almost ready to tell him to piss off until you glanced over towards Drew who still had not even given you a glance.

"Y/n" You responded as you turned your body completely around, facing towards him.

You studied his face. He looked cute, or maybe that was just the alcohol clouding your judgment. To your drunken eyes, he favored Timothee Chalamet to you, which was some one who was a sight for sore eyes.

- but, never the less, he wasn't Drew.

The guy mentioned his name back to you but between the alcohol and the music , you didn't hear him clearly. You looked to your side to see Chase and Madelyn in their own little world so you shrugged your shoulders, turning back towards the tall boy.

"You come here with someone?" He asked as he took a step closer, his body swaying along with yours to the music. You glanced over your shoulder towards Drew, the same scenario playing as earlier . You rolled your eyes becoming agitated with Drew before you looked back forward trying not to be obvious.

"I thought i did but it's looking like they didn't come in with me" You said, your lips close to his ear as he leaned forward to hear you.

"Huh" He responded leaning back. "That's to bad. You're very beautiful" He responded. You grinned widely, enjoying the attention.

The song changed, turning to a slower song, a more sensual vibe to it. You turned around, swaying your hips up against the guy as his hand wrapped around your waist.

You usually wouldn't do this, but between the alcohol and your jealousy towards Drew, you were enjoying every second of it in hopes Drew would catch on and realize what he was losing.

And surprisingly , that's exactly what happened.

Drew tried to play things your way. He tried to pretend that there was nothing going on between the two of you. He even gave other women attention to make it believable but it was all fake smiles and laughs when really all he wanted was to hold you. He did try his best though, that is until he looked up to check on you only to see your body being held by another guy, your ass pressed against the guys crotch as he practically dry humped you from behind.

Now Drew didn't drink as much as you did, but he did have 1 to 2 shots , enough to help spark a fire inside of him, rage flowing through his veins. Drew didn't hesitate to make his way over to you, his mind only focused on removing the guy from his girl.

"Y/n what the fuck" He spat out as he tugged on your hand, trying to remove you from him. Your eyes widened, guilt instantly flowing through you. You didn't mean for any of this to happen and seeing Drew standing in front of you fuming, you couldn't help but to feel embarrassed by your actions.

"Man back off alright she's just having a good time" The guy said with a cocky smirk plastered across his face.

"Fuck off " Drew scolded before looking back at you, completely brushing the guy off.

"This is really how you want to sell it ?" He said, his voice louder than normal because of the music, but those surrounding him including Chase and Madelyn hearing.

"Oh go fuck yourself Drew" You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You began to march off of the dance floor, making your way towards the table you were previously at, leaving the stranger stranded.

"REal mature Y/n" He responded following closely behind you. The rest of the group followed behind, beyond confused as to why the two of you would even be arguing like this.

"Oh but you weren't doing the same thing over here with the chick ? Laughing at every little thing she said" You spat out.

He threw his hands up.

"Y/n i was trying to play your little game of secrets" He argued back.

"Wait what secrets?" Madison spat out. The both of you stared at each other, unsure who was going or not going to spill the truth.

"No point in hiding it anymore Y/n" Drew argued. You furrowed your brows in frustration, crossing your arms over your chest as Drew spoke. Which he was absolutely right which upset you anymore.

"Somebody better start talking in point two second or -"

"We're dating" you interrupted, looking over towards Madison.

Everyone's jaw dropped except for JD's, his response was jut of him shaking his head.

"What!?" Madison yelled out in shock.

"Like talking?" She asked, looking between the two of you. " Or like, dating dating?"

"More like dating dating" Rudy butted in, pushing his index finger into a circle he made with his other hand, indicating intercourse.

You quickly placed your head in your hand with embarrassment.

"No fucking way" Chase responded, a wide grin on his face.

"Bro why didn't you tell me?" Chase yelled out placing his hand on Drew's shoulder.

"We didn't want anyone mad at us or like, i don't know it ruin this friendship we all have" You responded, lowering your head in disappointment.

"Y/n are you delusional? Why would that make any of us mad ?" Madison replied with a wide grin on his face.

"You guys, i called it" JD finally spoke, a cocky smirk across his face.

"Whaattt? " you responded looking over at him with confusion.

"You guys have been clung to each other since you first met. I'm not stupid" He laughed. You shook your head, a grin forming on your face.

"Okay the cats out of the bag so you guys don't have to continue pretending okay? " Madelyn responded. "Can we please get back to dancing?" She pleaded. They all nodded before the group once again went their separate ways, leaving you and Drew alone at the table.

"I'm sorry" You responded stepping closer towards him, placing your hand on his.

"ME too" He responded looking down at you.

"I kind of want to get out of here, yanno" You said with a smirk on your face. He grinned back, nodding his head.

"agreed".

*****

Hope you guys liked!

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[writer-in-theory]

I Almost Do (Spencer Reid x Reader)

summary: after a nearly unforgivable mistake, spencer tries to rekindle his relationship with reader in the only way he knows how: written letters. series summary: a series of oneshots to celebrate the release of red (taylor's version). 19 songs, 19 fics. pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader category: angst with happy ending content warnings: language, descriptions of drug use, breakups, post-revelations spencer, brief relationship violence (spencer/reader, drug-induced), spencer's crippling trauma, mentions of torture word count: 4.7k a/n: This was originally gonna be another no happy ending, but Spencer deserves some happiness on this Halloween Eve. I want to point out that I do cover a scene where Spencer is still struggling with addiction. It's based off of my own experiences(not with drugs, but alcohol), so it may not be accurate for everyone. I hope I did it justice.

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“I just wanna tell you, it takes everything in me not to call you. And I hope you know that every time I don't, I almost do ..."

The last time you’d been on a public plane was a few years ago when you’d been invited to a compatibility interview with your potential new unit. If you concentrate enough, you could sit in that cramped seat now and feel all of the nerves you did then. You’d spent the entire flight from your field office to Quantico going over how you would respond to basic conversation questions, hoping you wouldn’t scare the team away from wanting to work with you.

Oh, if only you’d known how ‘compatible’ you really were. Maybe then you could’ve avoided all of this: wasting the last few years of your life only to end up on the same flight back to Seattle, feeling oddly like you were a little kid running away from home.

When you told Hotch that you wanted a transfer, he hadn’t believed you at first. “What did Reid do now?” he’d teased, knowing how close the two of you were. The pair of you had decided to not officially tell him you were dating if only so Hotch wouldn’t have to deal with the extra paperwork. Still, it was impossible not to see it when the team was as close as it was.

Unfortunately, those were the wrong words to say. You steeled yourself—wondering briefly how on earth there could be more tears building after all the ones you’d shed already—but this was the unit chief of the BAU, of course he was able to see right through you. “You don’t have to leave the team if you and Reid broke up,” Hotch explained as gently as you’d ever heard him, and you thought that this was a look only someone who’d been a father before could give. “You worked so hard to get here.”

“I know, and I’ll always be thankful for you believing in me. I can’t stay, I just can’t. I’d like to go back home.”

You hadn’t called Seattle home in years; it felt strange on your tongue like you were a toddler learning the word for the first time. You wondered if any city would ever feel like home again, or if you’d continue to dream of Washington. Hotch put in the paperwork and you used the rest of your vacation time in the few days it took for the transfer to be approved. It felt a little like being in high school and cutting up pictures of you and your ex-best friend. You wanted to say goodbye. It wasn’t fair to the rest of the team that they’d be finding out from Hotch you ran away from them. It wasn’t fair to Spencer that you were leaving him when he needed someone most, but the previous night’s event played on a loop in your brain enough to tell you that you two weren’t good for each other. It would hurt both of you, but it was better this way.

You didn’t have an eidetic memory, but the final time you saw Spencer was burned into your brain forever.

It was obvious something was wrong with your boyfriend. For the first few days after Tobias Hankel, you’d come over every day to help him cook, clean, and generally live while he was healing. He let you hold him, squeezing tighter when he whimpered through his nightmares. Then, slowly he started telling you he was busy more frequently until you were hardly seeing him outside of work.

It hurt, but if this was how Spencer needed to process what had happened, then you’d give him the distance he wanted. You figured he was getting support from another team member, and while you desperately wanted to be the one to hold him you were just glad he had someone.

At least, until you started seeing the warning signs. He seemed more out of focus at work, irritable, and far less empathetic than normal. Spencer was distancing himself from everyone on the team, making it clear to you that something else was going on.

Spencer was drowning, and you refused to let him suffer alone.

So one night after receiving the usual text of: ‘I’m really tired tonight, Y/N. I’m going to bed early.’, you drove over to his apartment. Light was shining through the gap in the floor and door, signaling he’d lied to you. Your hand raised to knock on the door even though you had an extra key, but paused in the air.

Was this the right move? Would he be upset that you didn’t give him the privacy he wanted? You decided you didn’t care, needing to make sure Spencer wasn’t doing what you thought he was. Of course, being on the team, you’d seen the live feed from Hankel’s house. You’d watched as he’d been drugged repeatedly, each time begging the unsub not to do it.

You’d also watched him die. For a few painful seconds, Spencer Reid had actually been lost. You had been inconsolable, falling to the ground with harsh cracks of your knees. You might’ve been screaming, begging for him to come back even though he couldn’t hear you, but your ears felt filled with cotton balls. JJ had guided you out of the room after he’d been brought back, telling you that you’d seen enough. You’d effectively been kicked off of your boyfriend’s case.

So with the image of him laying so lifeless on a dingy cabin floor still fresh in your mind, you knocked on the apartment door. “Spencer? Please open the door,” you called, hearing the tell-tale shuffling from the other side of the door.

“Please, Spence, I don’t want you to be alone. You’re really starting to scare me, and I need to make sure you’re okay.” Still nothing. After thirty seconds, the fear was enough for you to forsake the last shreds of his privacy and use your key to get into his apartment.

What you saw confirmed your worst fears. Spencer stood over his desk, a glass vial and syringe laid out in front of him. His left sleeve was already rolled up, one of his belts hanging loosely in his hand. You watched dozens of emotions alter his expressive face before he settled on anger.

“Why are you here?” he snapped, tossing the belt onto his desk with so little care you wondered how you possibly missed this for so long. It had been weeks since Hankel, and it had been weeks that your boyfriend was suffering alone.

“I was worried about you,” you admitted, finally shutting the door behind you but feeling your feet root into place there, “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“You thought you could fix me.” There was so much bitter hate infused in Spencer’s words that it shocked you, causing your head to reel back from the blow. “I don’t need fixed, Y/N.”

“I know that Spencer, of course, I do,” you told him softly. His hair was wild, had been untamed for weeks in sharp contrast to the usual clean slicked back look. He’d always had dark circles under his eyes— ”Spencer, you can’t keep staying up all night reading.” “Why not? I can just have more coffee in the morning.” —but the ones present now were deep and looked like they might never disappear. You might’ve imagined it, but he looked thinner, maybe even sickly if you paid attention to the details. The details you hadn’t noticed for weeks. The details the entire team had missed.

“You don’t have to be alone,” you told him, finally moving from your spot at the front door.

“Maybe I want to be alone,” Spencer shot back, but you didn’t believe that for a second. You’d trained to be able to talk to victims of trauma, it was part of your specialization on the team. It was common for victims to isolate themselves to avoid spreading the darkness they felt to others. Often times they felt contaminated, poisoned, and didn’t want to ruin anyone else.

You wouldn’t let Spencer do that.

“No you don’t, Spence,” you answered calmly, proud of yourself for steadying your voice while your hands shook furiously at your sides. “You can talk to me, it’s okay. You’ll get through this.”

“If I wanted to talk to someone, it certainly wouldn’t be you.” The words were harsh, pressing another knife wound to your chest. You would wrap your hand around the hilt and push it deeper though if only it meant Spencer would get through this.

“That’s okay, we don’t have to talk, but I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Why not?!” You’d never seen Spencer shout like this. It was rare he’d be loud at all, even when he was happy. His anger was more diluted, cold, even calculated. This was wild, unfocused, and spontaneous. You’d interrupted his plan for the night though, and you knew the cravings likely were settling in since he’d been at work all day (and he wouldn’t risk using at work, right?). “I don’t want you here! Get out!”

“What are you gonna do if I leave, huh?” you shouted back, unable to control yourself any longer. Maybe this was a bad idea, a horrible idea actually. “I just want to help you, Spencer. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone, no one should.”

“You don’t understand what I’m going through!”

“Then tell me! Tell me, Spencer, help me understand because I’m here for you. I don’t care what you say, you’re not pushing me away.”

“Why can’t you understand that I don’t want you here? You’re the last person I want to see right now!” Spencer shouted, stabbing the knife straight through your heart. It infuriated you to no end. This was your boyfriend of years saying such hateful things. You knew it wasn’t fully his fault; you knew the cravings would drive people to say things they normally wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less or that you deserved to stand there and take it.

You’d regret saying it later. You’d sit on that plane and wonder if you’d just kept your mouth shut things would be different. “Do you see anyone else here? Because I don’t. No one else cared enough to show up, but I’m here. I’m here, Spencer.”

When you were a kid, a little boy in your class was absolutely merciless to you. He taunted you, called you every name that a third-grader could know, and would pull your hair relentlessly. You told your mother it was because he had a crush on you, he’d told you that was how he showed he liked you. It was then your mother sat you down and told you to never let anyone hurt you in the name of love. Passion was not an excuse for violence, nor was anger.

You’d like to think your mother would be proud of you now if you told her what happened.

Spencer gripped your arms painfully tight, harsh enough you were sure there’d be bruises in the shape of fingers the next day.

“Let go of me,” you snapped, hands moving to shove at his chest, “right now.”

“You didn’t actually come here for me. You felt bad so you came here to make yourself feel better,” Spencer answered instead, voice low and cold in his usual characteristic anger. It was terrifying.

“For a genius, you really are stupid. I love you, Spencer, that’s why I’m here.”

You told yourself it was the drugs. Hankel had given him a mixture of hydromorphone and a hallucinogen. Both of those could cause severe irritability and violence between high doses, who knew what would happen when taken together? Still, as Spencer pushed you away from him and your head hit the wall with a sharp crack, you knew it was over.

Tears blurred your vision but you still managed to walk by him toward the door. Never once had you thought him capable of reacting like that. You felt stupid, wondering if you’d just not gone to see him like he’d asked then everything would be okay between you two. Except, you knew better. If he was using, then it was only a matter of time before your relationship died. Somehow, this quick painful death was preferred over the slow, torturous end.

“Wait, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Spencer gasped from behind you, grabbing your wrist with only as much pressure as needed to keep you standing still. He sounded in pain, like he was shocked that he’d done it. You felt much the same way.

“Let go of me.” It was scary how neutral your voice was, dull and emotionless to keep from escalating the situation even more. There was only so much you could take before it was time to protect yourself.

“Y/N, please, don’t go,” Spencer pleaded, but when you didn’t answer he let go of your wrist as asked. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You still did it.”

Those were the last words you’d said to Spencer. You expected it to be the end of things. It was far too easy to settle into life in Seattle again. You still knew plenty of the team members after only a couple of years away.

You found an apartment, a group of friends, you found a life. Then, months later when you thought it was almost time to move on, the first letter came in.

It came to the Seattle field office, your unit chief handing it to you and reminding you that personal mail wasn’t to be directed to work. You’d sat at your desk staring at the envelope for several minutes, running your fingers over the messy scrawl and wondering what could possibly be contained within.

Dear Y/N,

There are too many things I need to tell you.

I’m sorry.

I regret that night I-

I miss you. I love you.

I have no idea what I’m doing writing to you. You’re probably never going to read this, which is understandable after what happened. We really made a mess of us.

I want you to know I’m sober. It will be eight months as of next week. As of next week, it will be eight months since I saw you. I try to picture you happy in Seattle, it’s easier that way. One day, I’d like to apologize to you in person. A part of NA is asking for forgiveness from those you hurt while you were using. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for what happened, but I want to try. You deserve that much.

-Spencer

When you didn’t answer, you thought that would be the last letter. Instead, they came fairly regularly. Spencer updated you about the team, his life, even silly little things that would have once made you laugh but instead made your chest ache.

At first, you didn’t respond because you were angry. You didn’t deserve to be treated like you had that night. That all was true, but as the years went on and the letters kept coming, you realized that it wasn’t all him. You’d antagonized him too, said hateful things that you’d lay in bed thinking about for hours. Do you see anyone else here? No one else cared enough to show up.

What shitty words to say to someone who was already struggling. Spencer had been right in his first letter: you both had made a mess of things. Both of you had said and done things that you regretted. How could either of you come back from it? If that had happened once, who was to say it wouldn’t happen again?

So each time you considered picking up a pen to answer Spencer, you ended up setting it down and waiting for the next letter to come in.

Dear Y/N,

Derek told me you became unit chief in Seattle. I’m so proud of you, I always knew you would do great things. I hope you’re happy there.

Emily left the BAU. She took a position with Interpol in London. We just got her back and now she’s gone again. People keep leaving, I’m afraid I won’t recognize the team at all in a few years. It’s making me wonder if I should leave too. Everyone keeps moving on to do better things, why am I stuck here?

I don’t know how to do anything else but be a profiler. I think I’ll be with the BAU until I either die or retire. There could be worse fates.

-Spencer

Dear Y/N,

Alex left the BAU. I know you never met her, but I wish you could have. You would have liked her, I think.

It was partially my fault she left. I was shot and nearly died, I reminded her of her son who’d died years ago. She didn’t want to die violently, didn’t want this job to kill her. I think that’s what will happen to me.

I tried to move on from you. Her name was Maeve, and I think I could have loved her. She died before I could find out, and I wonder if every relationship I care about is meant to end like this.

I hope you’ve moved on. I know Penelope went to visit you a couple of weeks ago. She said you were happy, and I really hope that’s true. It’s easy to picture what your life is like in Seattle. You’d have the reading nook you always talked about building here. You would come home late from work and immediately curl up there, staring out the window at the city that’s become your new home. Do you ever think of me the way I sometimes do?

-Spencer

Dear Y/N,

I never thought it would be Morgan who left next. I can’t even be mad at him because he just wants to protect his family. It’s selfish, but I’m so mad at him for it. I’m mad that he gets a family and I’m still here at the BAU with nothing.

Will I end up like Rossi? One day will I be old and gray, still clinging to this job because it’s the only thing I have left?

I saw you in the news the other day. That case was a major win for Seattle, but I hate how much you had to sacrifice for it. I never wanted you to understand what I went through with Hankel-

I hope you feel better soon. I hope you consider leaving the field, or at least undercover work. Is that selfish of me to hope you escape this job too?

-Spencer

Dear Y/N,

It happened. I woke up one day and realized you wouldn’t recognize the team if you ever come back. Hotch had to leave; an unsub was threatening Jack so they went into witsec. Would you even recognize Jack? He’d been a baby when you left.

There’s only JJ, Penelope, and I now. Emily might stay on as unit chief, but for now, she’s still technically an Interpol agent.

My mom asked about you the other day. She’s not doing well, her mind is going. It’s dementia, a rapid form of Alzheimer’s that’s taking her from me. There’s going to be a time she won’t recognize me, but for now, she just gets confused. She thought we were still dating. I didn’t know how to tell her how it all got messed up. So I didn’t, I hope that’s okay.

-Spencer

Dear Y/N,

I’m sorry it took so long for me to write back. I don’t know if you’re reading these anymore, but it’s comforting to think that you are. I can’t always talk to the rest of the team about this stuff, I don’t want them to worry too much.

For the past few months, I’ve been in prison. An unsub from our past came back and set me up, prevented me from getting protective custody. She drugged me, breaking my ten-year sobriety. I know I shouldn’t feel guilty, but the weight of having to start the count over is crushing.

I think the worst part of it all was that the FBI abandoned me. I was being tried for murder and they didn’t support me at all. They were going to let me rot in prison for the rest of my life. If it hadn’t been for Emily, I would have.

I saw the way the team looked at me. It was like they could see what I was becoming in prison. I know I had to do everything I did, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling like a monster. Do you ever feel like that?

What am I talking about? You’re a star unit chief with so many awards I’m surprised you haven’t been asked to head up a unit in Quantico.

I think this will be my last letter. It’s time to stop bothering you with my life. You’ve either moved on or still hate me for what happened. I wouldn’t blame you for either. You’re doing so great in Seattle without me, I don’t want to bring that down. Goodbye, Y/N.

-Spencer

You had been on an undercover mission when the last letter came in. It wasn’t often that a unit chief goes on assignments like that, but sometimes your specific training was required. Each time you went under, you’d come back to your old life with new scars. The worst had been years ago—Spencer, I never wanted to understand the torture you went through either, you’d thought bitterly, but now I do—but still, if you closed your eyes you could feel each mark reopening.

When you were undercover, you were stunned by your dreams. Each one had been of Spencer. After ten years, what would he look like now? You’d tried to avoid watching any news coverage of cases the BAU took on. There was one time they actually came to Seattle a couple of years ago, and you’d used your vacation time for the first time since moving to this field office. You tried not to think about the BAU and what your life could have been if you stayed. Yet, each night for two weeks you imagined laying next to Spencer, older, scarred, but still the same man you knew so many years ago. You imagined coming home with him after a long day, holding each other and kissing away the pain you caused each other.

Every time you got a letter, you almost wrote back. Each time you couldn’t, never being ready to rekindle anything with Spencer. Now, though, your heart leapt at the thought that this was well and truly goodbye. No, that couldn’t happen, you weren’t ready to say goodbye.

It was midnight in Seattle, meaning it was an ungodly time of night in Washington. Still, you picked up your phone and hit the contact you never deleted, hoping it was still the same number after all this time.

He didn’t answer. Your heart sunk deep in your chest at the cruel reminder that this was your fault. He’d reached out to you for ten years, and never once did you answer. It wasn’t his fault he gave up.

Your phone was ringing. A gasp slipped from your lips as you saw the name printed across the screen, wondering if you would wake up to find this was another dream soon.

“You called.” Spencer’s voice was rough from sleep, older and more tired (in more ways than one), but still carried a hopeful tone you recognized.

“You stopped writing,” was the only thing you could think to say.

“It was time to move on like you have.”

“I didn’t,” you blurted out, hand covering your mouth as if you couldn’t quite believe the panic with which you spoke. It took two seconds to compose yourself, dropping your hand and clarifying, “I never moved on.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for ten years. I’ve wanted to call, to write back, to fly back to Quantico and beg for my job back. I miss you, Spencer.” Silence. So much silence you pulled the phone away from your ear briefly to check he hadn’t hung up. “Spencer?”

“I hurt you. What I did was unforgivable.”

“You’re right, but what I said was unforgivable too. We both were in the wrong that night, but we’re different people now. We’ve both been through so much, have changed so much. I’m not saying we start from where we left off. I think we need to meet each other again, get to know the people we are now.”

“I’d like that,” Spencer admitted, shuffling a little. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, but neither of you hung up. It was comforting just to feel his presence again after so long. “I’m sitting in that old chair by the window. I was reading, but now I’m looking out at D.C. It’s a full moon.”

You looked at your own reading nook, the one you’d finally put together after years of wanting one. The chair was the most comfortable piece of furniture you ever owned, so it was easy for you to tuck yourself into it and stare out the window at the lit-up Seattle skyline. The full moon was just visible over the buildings. “I see it too,” you whispered, chest fluttering at the thought that you and Spencer were looking at the same thing.

“I’ve missed your voice,” Spencer admitted.

“I missed you too, Spencer,” you spoke, not caring if the words were wet with the tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’m sorry I left without giving us another chance.”

“I don’t know that I believe in fate, but I would like to believe that you made the right choice for us. We needed the distance and time to heal ourselves.”

“That we did.” The words were whispered as if speaking them any louder would slice apart the moment.

“Come back to me,” Spencer pleaded, and you don’t know how many times you imagined him saying those exact words. He’d practically spoken them with each letter he sent, and each time you’d denied him.

You weren’t going to deny him now. “Okay,” you answered, still whispering.

“Really?” It hurt, but from the contents of the past few letters, you thought this was probably the happiest Spencer had sounded in a while. You hoped in time he wouldn’t be so surprised when good things happened to him.

“Do you think Emily would give me a job?”

“I think she couldn’t say no,” Spencer answered.

The two of you stayed up the rest of the night talking. He’d kept you caught up on the big changes in his life, but you wanted to hear the little things. He had stubble on his face now, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep it. He stopped drinking so much coffee and is trying to replace it with tea. He’s grown to love the winter because he can dress as cozy as he wants.

You can’t wait to meet and get to know this new Spencer. It would be a new adventure, one you’d almost taken every year for the past decade. Now, you finally felt ready.

So you jumped right in.

SERIES TAGLIST

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @alexlovescriminalminds @reidsbookclub @givemeth @eurydice-but-gay @fightingdragonswithreid @girloncorneliastreet @silverhetdanes @just-a-human-witha-pen @shemarmooresfedora @rexorangecouny

[chubbology]

Inertia

prompt: a man gains weight trying to get his ex-girlfriend back, but goes way too far and gets addicted to gaining

He hadn’t gone to the gym even once in ages.

After a year of singlehood, he wasn’t ashamed to admit anymore that he’d only really gone in the first place to impress women. Ironic, of course, since his ex had never been more than vaguely dissatisfied about his gym habit.

When they first started dating, he had love handles he hated and his thighs had been too thick. He assumed she dated him despite these flaws. Only after he lost weight to please her did he find out that it was his chub that caught her eye. It was bigger guys she was into. It was a lot of miscommunication. A lot of insecurity on his part, since what her preferences meant was that she wanted him to be a little heavy, and he couldn’t possibly accept that with his society-ingrained doctrines about attractiveness.

But those doctrines meant fuck-all now; he was eating a double cheeseburger in his car, helping it down with an orange soda, thinking about dessert. He was wondering if she’d be proud of him now that he’d gained thirty pounds. He wondered if she’d look at him with half-lidded eyes like she used to, if he put on another thirty. Fifty. Whatever.

His phone buzzes. He sits up straighter, belly swelling a little into his lap. It’s her.

Hey. My friend needs to sell her two tickets. I know it’s your favorite band. Interested?

The next text was a link to an information page about an upcoming concert. He’d been so disconnected lately, he hadn’t even heard about it.

Even though he wasn’t actually all that interested, he replied that he was, and they set a date to meet up the next week. Shit. He looked down at himself. If she were someone else, she might be repelled. But she wasn’t someone else…

He was hit with a brilliant, maybe brilliantly stupid, idea. It’s execution began with going right back through the drive thru.

In the days leading up to seeing his ex again, he ate almost constantly. Since he was only doing freelance online at the moment, his work didn’t get in the way of this. He let himself eat whatever he wanted, in amounts three times what his body craved. He pushed himself to a state of being constantly past full. She liked fat guys? Fine. Even if she still didn’t want anything to do with him, he wanted her to see what he could have been, if he hadn’t been such a gym-rat douchebag. If he’d let himself become a lazy, docile boyfriend like she wanted instead, weak and overweight.

It was hard, gaining a lot of weight in a week. The number on the scale didn’t go up as much as he expected, even though he’d eaten enough calories to gain twenty pounds at least. He compensated by showing up to their meeting spot wearing clothes that tightly hugged his body, which now had a good forty-ish pounds of fat clinging to it. Looking in the mirror before he left, he’d almost seen what she was into. His ass had gotten kind of wide and dumpy, but in a sexy way?

He was all nerves when she showed up looking healthy and cute and indifferent about him, holding the tickets in her hands. Almost indifferent. She definitely gave him a once-over, when she thought he wasn’t looking. He could tell she bit the inside of her lip.

“Well,” she said, meeting his eyes fearlessly. Were her cheeks a little red, or was that wishful thinking? “I’ll see you.”

“Really?” he blurted. “Kinda miss hanging out.”

She smiled and turned to leave. “Maybe.”

He went home and binged hard.

*

In contrast to how he grew too slowly in the week before meeting up with her, in the weeks afterward, he gained weight doubletime. Fat rounded him out as easy as if he were a swiftly filling water balloon, engorging his thighs and belly and ass and hips wide and heavy. He ate compulsively as his appetite skyrocketed, as cravings crushed his will to restrain himself. His budget was thrown out of whack as he spent his savings on pantry loads of unhealthy food. His clothes stretched and seams snapped as he struggled to fit in his largest clothes. He shopped in the plus sized section first for comfort, then by necessity.

All the while he could only think: I wished she was watching.

He started imagining her with him. In the car as he ate fast food. At the store as he bought new clothes. Walking beside him as he forced himself to get exercise.

“Slow down, big guy.” “No, I think you need one size bigger.” “Sweating already? You’re so out of shape.”

Why did he like it? Imagining her mocking him? Teasing him? Eyeing his body, fleshy and overfed.

The next time she texted, it was late at night, and his eyes were glazed watching television, eating huge spoonfuls of that miracle drug called Nutella. His belly swelled out of his shirt. His breasts and face were puffy. According to the numbers he punched into Google, he had long crossed the threshold of obesity.

How was the concert?

He stared at the words. This was it. Maybe his only chance. He replied: Didn’t go after all. Been feeling off lately.

To his (very manly) delight, this prompted more questions, and it became clear she wanted a real conversation. Was she thinking of him? Missing him like he missed her? He thought out every response with the careful focus of a rocket scientist. He wasn’t going to mess this up.

He didn’t seem to, and they texted into the early hours of the morning, catching up. Finally, finally she asked to meet up with him again, and - feeling more eager, a little reckless - he tapped out a disclaimer. Or to her, hopefully: motivation.

Just so you aren’t shocked when you see me, I’ve put on weight since I bought those tickets from you. I’m not sensitive about it or anything, but it’s a lot. So here’s a fair warning.

He held his breath as he waited for her reply. Held his breath. Held it…

Oh. Really?

Like before, they set a time the following week. This time, to get coffee. No big deal.

He knew he had more than fulfilled his little scheme of putting on weight to catch her attention, and he could push the breaks now, but he felt helpless against his inertia. At this point, he’d cultivated half a dozen habits that had his weight steadily rising, and he couldn’t just turn them off. If he so much as thought of eating less, his whole body seized up in fearful anticipation and unhappiness, and he found himself cramming a couple moonpies into his mouth just to calm down.

He gained another six pounds between their text conversation and their coffee date. He felt so out of control, so out of shape, so out of line with the standards of popular society that he felt oddly…free. In a way, he felt free of anxious self-consciousness as he heaved himself out of his car and waved at her through the coffee shop window. She was sitting in a corner at a table for two. Despite his warning, she looked a little shocked.

When he sat down across from her, his huge ass hanging off the ends of the seat, she appeared to inhale deeply. Her expression was inscrutable.

“You weren’t kidding,” she said.

Blushing, he supposed he deserved a bit of tactlessness, for the tactless way he broke up with her. “What? Oh. Yeah, no. I wasn’t.”

She sipped her coffee, eyes flicking between his flabby chest and his flabby face. In a low tone that no one else would hear, she said, “What happened? For you to get fat as fuck.”

He opened his mouth and closed it. This wasn’t how he was expecting this to go. “Well. I’ve been working from home, stressed out. I let myself go and…” He trailed off when he realized her eyes were cold. No - so hot they seemed cold, like his shower water when turned to the highest setting.

“Is this because of me?” she asked, cutting to the chase. She crossed her legs, now openly surveying him. “Did you decide it was okay to gain a hundred pounds because you thought I’d be into it?”

He was speechless. He swallowed.

“Well? Do you want me back that badly? Ever since I saw you last time, all chubbed out, I’ve been thinking maybe I should give you a second chance.”

“Um.”

“But I don’t know…” She shrugged, but a smirk was hiding just behind that indifferent frown, and he wanted. He wanted her forgiveness, whatever that meant. “How about you gain a hundred more and we’ll go on a real date? Sound good? You’re not the only fat guy out there.”

She was full-on grinning now, and he missed her little games like this. He could play them, too.

“Maybe, but I bet I’m the only guy who’s gotten this fat for you,” he said. She was immediately affected by this, and he licked his lips. “You really want to wait to see me a hundred pounds bigger than this, or do you want to stick around to watch?”

Even quieter, she said, “You saying you like gaining weight? How convenient.”

So she still doubted him. He put out his hands for her to see. “Just look. Look at how fat my hands are. I can’t…” And finally his composure cracked a little. “I can’t stop. I couldn’t stop if I wanted. Even if you never talk to me again, I’m gonna gain weight.”

Any playfulness was gone now from her. She looked like she wanted him, too. “Hmm. Maybe we should go before you break that poor chair, huh?”

He blushed again. God, he was getting docile. “I’m not that bad,” he muttered. But she gave him a cruel grin. She hadn’t entirely forgiven him. “You will be.”

And he knew then: he was doomed. He was already a little bit into his own heaviness, and she was going to take that feeling and amplify it tenfold. She was going to enable every bad habit he had, watch him flounder under his increasing size and become weaker under layers and layers of fat until he could barely lift a two pound dumbbell.

He knew she wanted this to happen, and maybe he’d broken up with her before because he’d been afraid.

But he wasn’t anymore.

“Let’s go then,” he said.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[therealieblog]

Some thoughts on “food addiction”

It is really impossible to talk about food addiction within the structure of diet culture. It would be like talking about sex addiction in a culture where sex is routinely judged as dirty, damaging and wrong. 

Human beings will die without food. Our taste buds and olfactory senses are highly attuned to give us pleasure when eating and to detect problems (rot, poisonous elements) in foods. We, as a species are geared toward wanting to eat, because without eating, we will die. Just as we are geared toward wanting sex (with the exception of many ace people of course) because without sex, as a race, we will all die out. 

Add to this the multi-billion dollar, ubiquitous diet culture that has arisen in the past 50 years or so, and you have a perfect conflict between human survival mechanism and human shame and guilt.

This whole subject is far too fraught to just be written off as “people are addicted to sugar/food.” and I hope to outline some of why that is. 

I used to think of myself as a “food addict”. And the main reason for this was because I found it very difficult to control my consumption of carbohydrates and sugar. And the main reason for this was because I had been put on a strict diet at the age of 15 by my diet-obsessed, bulimic older sister. This, and what I’ll outline below, led me to a life of off-again on-again dieting that threw my relationship to food entirely into a disordered place.

I was also inundated with commercials across all media types promoting thinness as an essential and admirable quality in order for me to be considered a valued, lovable or desirable member of society. Add to that, the concept that I would go to an early grave if I did not stay thin, and well... I developed a bit of a complex around food and eating. 

Every movie star I saw was thin. Every woman considered sexy or attractive in every film and every television show was thin. There were constant comments made by friends, family, the media, school teachers, doctors, and random strangers in restaurants about dieting, thinness, weight loss, health. 

I am completely lost how anyone has a healthy relationship with food when growing up in diet culture. And I was no exception. I struggled with binge eating disorder, (dieting, then binging in an endless cycle) for a good ten to fifeen years of my life, and spent the intervening times just eating until I was absolutely uncomfortably stuffed whenever I ate. 

It wasn’t until I’d suffered to the point where I was sick of it that I started doing some research and found Intuitive Eating. 

Intuitive Eating advocates for changing our attitudes surrounding food and weight and in allowing complete freedom in eating, while listening to the body’s signals, rather than the advice coming from outside of oneself. 

It was revolutionary to me. It also clued me in to the body’s ways of dealing with limited food. Starvation (all diets, and actual starvation due to life circumstances), cause food obsession. Food obsession from food deprivation will cause binging when a person finally has access to food, or allows themselves to eat unrestricted. But the mental bullshit that’s built up around sugar, fat, weight and weight gain in our culture leads us to get involved in cycles of intense deprivation (cutting calories, cutting out carbs, dairy, processed foods etc.) followed by intense overeating (though I hate that term) when we slip and can’t help but try and re-feed ourselves. 

In order to talk about food addiction, we need to talk about it from a place of being aware of diet culture. If we don’t, it really is like talking about sex addiction from within the strict auspices of the catholic church, or in a culture where sex before marriage is strictly forbidden. Or talking about how women and fems are just randomly obsessed with beauty, without looking at the culture that tells women they are worthless if they don’t shave their legs and have perfect hair and makeup. 

How can we discuss the addictive properties of food, when we have such a twisted, guilt-ridden, fraught relationship with food in the first place?

[kyoomiii]

♡ Kiss and makeup [hcs]

-  ➣. . . ❝ Hey bby ~ ive got a request if its alright! A scenario for making up after a fight with Oikawa please! Tysm! 🤍🤍 ❞

― 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @ anonie ​ ―

- ✎ 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 ❝ oikawa, atsumu, and sakusa ❞

- [ 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): heavy mentions of fighting/arguing ]

- ⚘ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 ❝ fluff, angst ❞

❝ hi everyone, i’m not dead- c: ❞

-yoomi ♡

Reconciling with Oikawa takes time

He has a lot of pride and often refuses to admit he’s wrong

Hates apologizing first, but will begrudgingly do it if he has to

It may take time but when he does come to you, he comes to you completely raw and vulnerable

He’s someone emotional and speaks with his heart when it really matters to him

Overall, he’s stubborn and prideful, but at the end of the day he recognizes that none of it is worth losing you.

After making up he’s very clingy and wants to spend as much time with you as he can.

Expect lots of love and tears because he will cry if you cry, and even if you don’t he will still cry

.·:��.☽✧☾.·:·.

The little tap that comes from the window pane is the only thing that draws your attention at this time of night. Turning your head to look at the clear glass, you’re thoroughly surprised to see Oikawa’s face, his cheeks slightly puffed out as he struggles to hold himself up against the window sill. 

You’re quick to hop up from your bed, rushing to open your window as you hurriedly wipe away the trail of tears that have stained your face for the past 2 weeks. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him or that you weren’t happy to see him. However, while that may be so you were still mad at him.

“What are you doing here Tooru.” You huff, arms crossed over your chest as you try to uphold your stern exterior.

“I came to apologize-” He freezes, eyes squinting as he scans your appearance with nothing but the small glimmer of the moon, “Have you been crying?”

Eyes wide and mouth almost agap you frantically shake your head, “No.”

Oikawa feels his chest tighten, guilt consuming his entire being as he takes in your exhausted appearance. It’s pure instinct, but he feels himself reach out to brush your cheeks, the slight tenderness left after so many spilled tears only breaks him further.

“I’m sorry y/n… You’re sad because of me and I promised myself I’d be the reason why you smile.” He scoffs, disappointment in himself evident in the way his eyes stare into your own. Crystal like tears welling up in pools of chocolate.

Sighing you offer him the best smile you can muster, “I will always be worried about you Tooru. You push and push until you can’t take anymore and it scares me. I know volleyball is something you love, and I support you in your goals. But you have to know your limits.” 

His tears finally spill, painting his cheeks in clear streaks, “I’m sorry…”He chokes out, the longing and desperation seeping into every word.

“It’s okay.” You hum pressing a kiss to his forehead, “I forgive you.”

...

“-Now that you guys are finished can you please get off my shoulders Shittyawa.”

Through grateful tears and a snotty nose Oikawa glances down at his best friend who is currently supporting said setter on his shoulders.

“Way to ruin the mood Iwa-chan you brute.”

“Shut up.”

Atsumu is childish to say the least. He has pride, and much like Oikawa he doesn’t like admitting he’s wrong

Arguments are one thing, but when Atsumu fights he fights with his whole being saying what he thinks only to feel guilty later

Him and Osamu argue and fight a lot, and when they apologize it’s always indirect or silent

He’s use to quickly sweeping things under the rug because of that

At first he kind of expects it to be the same with you, until he realizes that simply isn’t the case

Nevertheless it’s still pretty easy to make up with him because he’s not one to hold grudges. Plus he’s clingy and would probably die without constant affection

.·:·.☽✧☾.·:·.

Atsumu can’t help but wonder exactly how he had gotten into this position. Perhaps it’s his knack for being an asshole, or maybe it’s the jealousy he feels towards other guys despite the fact that he has fangirls trailing after him like lost puppies. Nevertheless, he finds himself missing your presence, craving your touch and attention.

“What do ya mean?”

“I said no Atsumu.”

He’s confused to say the least, why won’t you hold him? Are you still mad? It’s been awhile hasn’t it?

“y/n… Are ya really still mad?”

“Yes I’m still mad Atsumu, what you said really hurt me.” You can feel it bubble within you. The frustration and the hurt that has lingered, harbored in your mind for days on end, “I don’t care much for your jealousy. But it's the fact that you think our issues can just be pushed aside. You always ignore the problem, and I’m tired Tsumu… I’m tired.”

Your words set his body ablaze. Atsumu feels breathless as he hears the slight choke of your voice. He reaches out to you, uncertain in his touch as the pads of his fingers meet your uniform. His fingers grasp the fabric, desperate in the way that they curl so tightly around your shirt.

You miss him, you really do. His touch, his smile, his antics. Miya Atsumu’s presence is addicting and you find yourself craving him everyday, even more so now that you’ve spent so much time pushing him away.

“I’m real sorry y/n- I really am. I pulled a shitty ass move and I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I just-” He inhales tilting his head back to hide away the tears that build in his eyes, “I’m an ass and I know that so If you’re done with me, I’ll respect your choices...” 

Fighting with Atsumu isn’t an entirely rare occurrence but you always find a way to reconcile. However, this time feels different. A blooming fear settles itself in his chest. The thought of you leaving terrifies him, but for once he lets go of his ego, his pride. If it’s what you want he’ll live with it. Just as long as you’re happy.

Sighing, you turn to look at him, “I’ve missed you Tsumu.” You hum softly as you gently place your hand on his cheek.

Atsumu leans into your touch, basking in your warmth, as he feels a rush of relief flood through his body, “I’ve missed ya too baby…”He feels like he can breathe again, his body slumping against your own in his moment of shock.

“You’re such a jerk you know?” 

“Only yer jerk- I really do love ya y/n.”

“I love you too Atsumu.”

Much like Oikawa and Atsumu, apologies take time with Sakusa

Not because he refuses to admit he’s wrong, but simply because sometimes he doesn’t know nor does he realize that he’s being a bit much 

It takes time for him to register that he’s being an ass, because while he can be a bit dense he’s not completely oblivious

Reconciling is a quiet, long, and slow process, neither one of you knowing how to approach the other

But nevertheless, both of you are still there quietly mending things as you go

Though it’s a frustrating process. You don’t know where either of you are standing. It’s one big mystery that lingers in the form of tension as you sleep with your backs to one another

Touches filled with longing and days of silence grow tiring. One of you has to crack before things return to how they were

.·:·.☽✧☾.·:·.

Sakusa knows he’s not the easiest person to be around, and that only makes him that much more grateful that you love him so willingly, so easily. It makes him feel full, filled to the brim with the warmth that you give him. 

So at first, he doesn’t understand why you turn your back to him, why you won’t look at him, why you don’t speak to him properly. You’re there but you're not, and he admits he’s the same. It’s straining. Both of you are physically there, but it feels so empty and lonely, like falling into a void of nothing.

He misses you, more than he knows how to say. Especially now as he watches you get ready for another night of silence. 

And he’s right, the room falls into a daunting quiet. The tension in the air is so thick it’s almost suffocating. His body aches to hold you close against him- the only person he feels comfortable embracing so dearly.

“Do you plan on staying so far away?” The sudden break of silence is almost startling. It leaves your body tense, even Sakusa himself is shocked.

“I don’t know Kiyoomi…” And you really don’t. Granted even if you are upset with him you can’t bring yourself to resent him, you know you would be lying to yourself if you said you did. However, at the same time you don’t know if you could let yourself cave so easily.

Sakusa acts faster than he can think, shifting to face your back. Hesitantly, he reaches for you. Fingers delicately brushing against the fabric of your shirt, “I’m sorry.”

It’s overwhelming, all the emotions that flood through your very being. Your body begins to shake as you’re racked with tears, quickly turning to bury yourself in his much needed embrace, “I’m sorry too Omi.” You sob, soaking his shirt much to his distaste- though he can’t bring himself to comment.

And you stay like that for the rest of the night. Basking in the warmth of one another. Holding on so tightly as if to make up for lost time.

He wonders how he was lucky enough to find someone like you.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 1: Fallen!Cas

In A Fortress of Pine Trees | @mistofstars Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,380 Main Tags/Warnings: Endverse, Croatoan, 2014, 5x04, Smut, bottom!Dean, Angst, Top!Cas Summary: Future!Dean / Future!Castiel "Cas", he finally exhales. "I could need one of your amazing hippie massages right now" -it starts with a simple massage and ends somewhere else; Dean gives in to long neglected needs... DESTIEL in 2014

The Warmth of your skin | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,414 Main Tags/Warnings: Sharing Body Heat, Hurt!Cas, First Kiss, Naked Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, no explicit sex, human!Cas Summary: Dean and Castiel are in the middle of a forest, when a snowstorm surprises them in the middle of the summer. To make their luck perfect, Castiel breaks into the ice of a lake. There is only one way to survive this cold. Body Heat.

Are We Human? | @one-more-offbeat-anthem

Rating: General Word Count: 3,766 Main Tags/Warnings: human!/fallen!Castiel, first kiss, love confessions, pet cats Summary: After losing his grace, Cas struggles with being human. Dean tries to help him out—and in showing the former angel how to find joy in the little things, starts to find joy himself (if he's brave enough to reach for it). And also discovers that maybe cats aren't so bad.

The End Of The Beginning | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,885 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, omega Dean, alpha Cas, endverse, endverse Cas, heat, pwp, S5E4 The End, there's a sequel Summary: He just wished that Zach-y boy had picked a better time. Dean could feel those deep seated aches in his abdomen that could only mean he was a day or so away from his damn heat starting. Hopefully he could learn his little lesson before he had to lock himself away for a few days to keep himself from presenting to every damn alpha in a five mile radius. He usually took suppressants, but dealing with Lucifer had kind of taken front seat just long enough for Dean to miss a few too many doses. “Damn it,” he muttered to himself as he rubbed at his wrists, finally free. He wandered out to see where the hell he was. It was an old summer camp, that much he could tell, but that was about it. But as weird as all this was, as unreal and impossible as it had to be, the most mind blowing part was definitely Cas. Fuzzy, stoned out of his gourd, sex guru to a gathering of betas and omegas Cas. Cas, who smelled so strongly of alpha and everything that Dean had ever wanted that he had to shift himself when the guy wasn't looking to try and hide the quickly growing erection in his pants, praying that he wouldn't slick right through his jeans.

Finally Realized | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,018 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, alpha Cas, omega Dean, Dean in heat, human Cas, first time, porn with plot Summary: Dean is sick in bed, so Sam calls in a now-human Cas to come and take care of the cranky patient while he escapes goes on a hunt. Dean cooperates with Cas, but it just figures, when the cold is finally gone, his heat takes its place. Now denial stops being an options as Dean begs Cas for the thing he's always wanted, but could never admit to.

Sweet Cherry Pie | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,801 Main Tags/Warnings: No archive warnings apply, first kiss, first time, friends to lovers, top dean/bottom cas Summary: Dean takes the newly-human Cas to a diner to try some new foods. Cas wants more than a taste.

Tick Tock Goes The Clock | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,784 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, omega Dean, alpha Cas, human Cas, alcohol as a coping mechanism, implied mpreg, angst, porn with plot, drunken confessions, drunken sex Summary: It was a well known fact that every omega had a metaphorical biological clock ticking away inside of them, just waiting to spring the alarm and make the poor guy or girl go just a wee bit baby crazy. And as much as Dean Winchester tried to deny it, mostly to himself, the one inside him was gonna blow at any second. Even though Dean would never admit it to anybody, especially his brother, he had always felt pretty maternal towards Lisa's son, Ben. He’d always wanted a nice, big family with plenty of pups of his own, ever since he had presented as an omega as a teenager. At least, whenever John hadn't been pressuring him to act like the alpha his dad thought he should've been, that is. It had only gotten worse when Sam presented as a beta, so Dean had shoved that dream so far back in his mind that he completely forgot about it ninety-five percent of the time. That was exactly why the omega knew that his biological clock was gonna kick his ass any day now. Where he used to mostly forget about the idea of having a bunch of pups, it was now taking up the vast majority of his thoughts lately.

I Been Blind | @jemariel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 22,387 Main Tags/Warnings: Human!Cas, porn-watching, masturbation, mutual pining, porn with feelings, suggestion of m/f and m/m/f sex (in porn), oral sex, frottage, anal fingering, suggestion of bottom!Cas. Summary: Castiel is in love with humanity. At least, so long as he's not the one experiencing it. A lighthearted smutty romp wherein Dean helps Cas navigate the tricky minefield of human needs.

Roaming in the Dark (WIP) | @casbelieves

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 24,624 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Explicit Sexual Content, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Bottom!Cas, Top!Dean, Heavy Angst, Smut, Fallen Angels, Apocalypse, Croatoan Virus, Canonverse, Minor Character Death Summary: A reimagined look into how "The End" came to be. Castiel does not return to heaven after he rescues Dean from his stint in an apocalyptical 2014. The brothers don't reunite. The angels do fall. A dangerous and deadly virus spreads worldwide. But, without fail, Castiel follows Dean and, perhaps, that is his only fault.

Room A Thousand Years Wide | @mittensmorgul

Rating: Mature Word Count: 34,921 Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Getting Together, Long-Suffering Sam Winchester Summary: Once the world and their lives are finally their own, and Cas has chosen humanity once and for all, he begins to find a new routine of daily life with Dean. Sam doesn't know how much longer he can take their apparently oblivious platonic domesticity, when their regularly scheduled evening goes out the window with a single text message from someone they never expected to hear from again. Ex-Ghostfacer Ed Zeddmore is afraid he's stumbled over something too big to let slide, and sends them a link to a potentially dangerous Ghostfacer wannabe, and a case that isn't at all what it appears to be on the surface. What they uncover dredges up a lot of interesting feelings all around, and they must finally face a few ghosts of their own.

Empty Spaces | @thisisapaige

Rating: Mature Word Count: 48,411 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Drug Withdrawl, Fallen Castiel, Pre-series Dean, Canonverse, Internalized Biphobia, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort Summary: [Castiel] found the colour. It was a green, one of the few gentle colours at the edges of his dreams and the one he tried to capture in his paintings, never quite finding the right hue. He spent so long chasing the colours, trying to find it though pills and needles, but they always evaded his grasp. Yet he found one, right here, hiding in the eyes of a stranger. He studied the colour, the subtle differences between dark and light, the little flecks of gold nearly hidden in the sea of green, the ring around the outside. He studied it, trying to commit the colour to memory. The other man cleared his throat. “Uh, dude?” Oh. Castiel forgot the colour was attached to a person. ~~~ What if Castiel had fallen before the start of the series and met Dean on a routine hunt? Set in the spring before Dean goes to find Sam in Stanford.

Gates of Bronze and Bars of Iron | iCeDreams (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 80,466 Main Tags/Warnings: Season 9 Divergent, Dean in Heaven Summary: Dean realizes that staying in Heaven and catching endless fish isn't living up to its hype. Especially since the gates of Heaven are still closed and there are no angels to guide you in the hereafter. Castiel is surviving Earth, fallen and human until a reaper brings his attention to a hunt forcing him to seek out his fallen brothers.