#honestly i have been ingesting a lot of dark content lately and it can get overwhelming sometimes

[strawberrygardenkisses]

Don't forget to watch something positive before you go to sleep!

[fangirlingtodeath513]

siren | a writer’s choice bingo fill

writer’s choice bingo masterpost rating: mature warnings: none

For a hunter, Dean’s frequent visits to the monster bar are unusual, to say the least. His profession tends to not mingle with monsters, even though the ones that frequent this place are the ones that live amongst humans without any issue. Dean doesn’t care, though. He’s met good friends through here and even had a few flings with some of them. He feels more at home here than he does in a hunter crowd, and he’s not really sure if he should feel as comfortable as he does about that fact.

Doesn’t stop him from looking for someone to spend the night with, though. It’s been too long since he’s had someone underneath him—or been underneath someone, frankly—so he’s nursing a single beer as he looks for someone that piques his interest. 

It doesn’t take long. A dark-haired man walks through the door within fifteen minutes of Dean sitting down and he looks perfect. Dean doesn’t even hesitate to grab his beer and vacate his table, sidling up to the man at the bar. 

“Hey there, gorgeous. Let me buy you a drink?”

The man turns to look at him and Dean can’t help but feel a little self-conscious as the stranger’s eyes skim the length of his body. “You can’t buy me the kind of drink I want.”

Dean frowns. This is a monster bar, so if the guy’s looking for blood or something, that’s not exactly an odd request. “You sure about that?”

The stranger smirks, leaning against the counter and raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Unless you’re prepared to ingest my venom and allow me to feed off your adoration for the next several hours, yes, I’m positive.”

Dean’s brain short-circuits at that because honestly… he wouldn’t be opposed. It must show on his face because the man tilts his head as he watches Dean. “Siren, right?” The man nods, so Dean clears his throat and finishes what’s left of his beer. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Dean catches the bartender’s eye and closes out his tab, turning back to the man. “I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Castiel,” the man answers with a wry smile. “How do I know you don’t have a bronze knife on you somewhere?”

Dean can’t help but smirk. “You can pat me down when we get to where we’re going, hm? My motel isn’t far.”

Castiel hums, nodding once as he turns to leave. Dean grins and slips his jacket on, following him to the parking lot. After a short discussion about the logistics of getting to Dean’s motel, they both pile into the Impala and Dean pulls onto the road.

“Do I even want to know how many daggers you’ve got in here?”

Dean laughs. “Four, but they’re all in the trunk. Don’t encounter sirens very often, honestly. Besides, I’d need the blood of one of your victims, right? I doubt you just leave those lying around.”

Castiel quirks an eyebrow. “You do realize if you ingest my venom, you’ll be considered my victim?”

Dean blinks and glances over at Castiel. “Huh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

An uncomfortable silence settles between them, so Dean just stays quiet as he drives. He doesn’t really blame Castiel for being nervous. A lot of hunters don’t care about the monsters that live in the gray areas, most are content to kill every monster they come across no matter what. Of course, Castiel would be concerned.

The parking lot is empty when they get there, so Dean parks in front of his room and pops the trunk before climbing out. Castiel watches him curiously, so Dean offers him a small smile and tugs the false door up to reveal his arsenal. “4 bronze daggers there. I’ve got a gun hidden in my room, though that won’t do much to you. Couple of steel knives that I’ll leave out here.” Dean proves his point by grabbing the sheaths from his waist and ankle and tossing them in the trunk.

Castiel chuckles. “I believe you, but thank you. You wouldn’t have been allowed in that bar if you weren’t friendly. Benny takes security seriously and, no offense, I could smell the hunter on you five miles away.”

Dean smirks. “I taste better than I smell, promise.”

Castiel rolls his eyes and follows Dean into his room, depositing his trenchcoat on the chair near the door. “You’re positive you don’t mind? The effect will wear off by morning.”

Dean hums, already beginning to unbutton his flannel. “Not even a little. There a certain way you need to do it?”

Castiel smiles and crosses to Dean in a few long strides, cupping his cheek gently. “A kiss will work just fine.” 

Dean’s not sure what he’s supposed to feel when their lips meet, but he definitely doesn’t feel poisoned. Not that he’d know what it felt like anyway—he wasn’t lying when he told Castiel he’d only seen a few sirens in his career. Dean lets himself get lost in the kiss, barely even noticing when Castiel starts to push the flannel off of him. He’s way more on board once Cas starts to unbutton his jeans, his long fingers brushing over the erection already forming in his briefs. 

“You’re right, Dean, you do taste better than you smell,” Castiel mumbles, a small smile on his lips as he leans down to kiss Dean again.

~

Dean pulls up to the nondescript apartment building, sitting there for a moment before shutting the car off. He hasn’t seen Castiel for over four months—apparently, the length of time a siren can go without feeding—but Castiel had called out of the blue and asked him to come over. Dean had only been a state over on a hunt, so he’d wrapped up his business there and driven straight to Castiel’s.

He looks weak when he opens the door, and far more pale than the last time Dean had seen him.

“Cas? You okay?”

Castiel smiles weakly, stepping aside to let Dean into the apartment. “I’m alright. I went… longer than I should have without feeding. I wanted to, I just... “ He turns his gaze back to Dean and the unspoken words hang heavy between them. Dean thinks he knows what Castiel was about to say, but he doesn’t want to pry. 

“Alright, well let’s get you back to yourself then, hm?”

Castiel smiles gratefully, allowing Dean to draw him into a kiss.

~

It becomes a recurring thing between them. Every month or so, sometimes more often if Dean’s passing through Cas’s state, they’ll meet up and sleep together. Castiel gets his fix of adoration, as he likes to say, and Dean gets a warm, fluffy bed and a good fuck. He can’t complain, even if he does wake up a little bit tired the morning after. 

“So, Benny’s hiring,” Dean offers one morning over breakfast. It’s been almost a year since he went home with Castiel for the first time, something he still can’t believe. He’s never actually had a relationship this long, and they’re not even actively in a relationship. 

Castiel quirks an eyebrow. “Indeed. I saw the sign on the door.”

Dean hums. “I’d make a good bartender, I think.”

Castiel leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m sure you’d be wonderful at it. You want to give up hunting?”

“I’ve been wanting a life outside of hunting recently,” Dean admits with a shrug. “Gets a little too dangerous after a while. Besides, it would be nice to sleep on a comfortable bed like yours every night instead of those shitty motel beds. Or worse, Baby’s back seat.”

Castiel studies his face for a moment before frowning. “I’m sorry, I must have given you too much venom last night. Perhaps you should stay another day.”

“What? No, Cas, I’m being serious. I like it here, I’ve got friends here, I’ve got you—well, not… you know, I… fuck. I didn’t mean it like that.” Dean sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I like you, alright? It’s not because of your venom, it’s because of you.”

Castiel smiles, though it looks sad. “We were up late last night, I’m sure my venom hasn’t worked its way out of your system yet.”

Dean scoffs. “Hey, I can think for myself, thank you very much. Your venom’s not even that potent, man, it’s never made me feel any different.”

Castiel squints at him. “Never?”

“Nope. Why?”

“Well it’s supposed to make you disoriented and passive, so you’ll follow my every order no matter what. It… doesn’t do that?”

Dean snorts. “Follow your every order? God no. If you’re so convinced I’m still poisoned, make me do something.” 

Castiel frowns. “I don’t like making people do things. It’s why I’m always so careful with what I say when we’re together.”

“I’m telling you, I’m immune to your venom or something. C’mon, try it.”

It takes a moment, but Castiel eventually acquiesces. “Refill my coffee.”

Dean waits a moment, half expecting to be compelled to refill Castiel’s mug, but nothing happens. Castiel frowns and sits up.

“Kiss me.”

Dean waits again, raising an eyebrow at Castiel. “See? Nothing.”

Castiel frowns. “Stay with me tonight? I want to see if you’re immune after you ingest my venom.”

Dean smirks. “Damn, Cas, if you wanted to fuck me again you coulda just asked.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, though the hint of a blush on his cheeks gives him away. “So you’ll stay?”

Dean hums his agreement, eyes widening as Castiel leans over the table to kiss him. Once again, they both wait, expecting God only knows what to happen, but nothing changes. 

“Go get my phone,” Castiel orders. The tone of his voice sends a shiver down Dean’s spine and though he wants to obey, he won’t. Castiel needs the proof. “You’re actually immune,” Castiel breathes, a look of wonder written on his face. “You want to move here to be closer to me of your own free will?”

Dean frowns. “Yeah, man. I like you, Cas. Not your venom.”

Castiel grins, leaning over to kiss him again. “Then just move in with me. I love you, I just didn’t want to force you to be with me.”

Dean blinks. “You love me?”

Castiel chuckles. “Why do you sound so surprised? You’re easy to fall for, Dean.” 

Dean grins, pulling Cas in for another kiss, their breakfast entirely forgotten between them. “I’ll go get my stuff out of my car and call Benny.”

Castiel hums. “Later. Right now, we need to celebrate.”

Dean laughs. “Oh? How so?”

Castiel smirks, quickly clearing off one side of the table before lifting Dean onto it and settling between his legs. “Oh, I can think of a few ways.”

[winter-soldier-vibes]

I got your back (Lance Tucker x reader)

I got your back

Lance x reader

Word count

Warnings: eating disorder, over-exercise, fainting, lance’s comments

Summary: reader is a gymnast and her coach is Lance Tucker. She develops an eating disorder and one day passes out during her routine

A/N: Sorry if it’s a little rushed

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

You took a deep breath as you steadied yourself on the end of the beam, getting ready to attempt your routine once again for your coach Lance. 

He was a hard man to please. You don’t know if he’s ever shown any kind of sympathy towards anyone for anything. And his way of showing that you were good was by telling you you sucked. Still, you had a lot of respect for the man. He was a silver and gold medalist after all.

You attempted the routine again and even though you thought you did well, you were expecting to be told it was your worst attempt yet.

“Pathetic.” he stated. “You're separating your legs too much.”

You sighed and made your way back to the end of the beam. He stopped you every few seconds with another critique of some sort. Your back wasn’t straight, you lost your balance, were you trying to fall off the beam? The list went on and on. This was how it always was.

You needed to be better. And you simply weren’t.

And Lance made sure you were well aware of that.

“That’s it, I’m calling it for the night,” he said after you finished your best attempt. You sighed and hopped off of the beam, grabbing your still filled water bottle. “Go home, get some rest, eat something decent. Be back here at 5 AM.”

You nodded, turning towards the door. You had no intentions of doing any of that.

You got into your car and drove to your house, but you only went inside to drop off your keys. After which, you came back outside into the brisk evening air and began running. This was something you did most nights, even though you were exhausted. You thought if you worked more than you’d be better in the gym. Build endurance, something like that.

You went on your usual loop which took you around an hour, before you came back to your house, panting and out of breath. As if on cue, your stomach growled. You put a hand over it, willing it to stop. You had no intention to fulfill it’s pleas.

You knew you had a problem. But that didn’t stop you. Gymnasts needed to be light, so they could get off the ground easier. Jump higher, move faster, be more graceful. No one wanted a linebacker that causes the beam to clunk every time they put their weight on it. And you were not going to let Lance make those sorts of comments to you.

So a few months ago, you took matters into your own hands.

You weren’t really eating and you were training more than Lance suggested, which was a LOT. The hunger pains were torturous at first, keeping you awake at night, but they subsided after a few days. And you felt dizzy sometimes, but you got used to that too. You didn’t really need an excuse other than saying you were on a strict diet for gymnastics. It wasn’t uncommon.

And so far it was working. You were losing weight and your frame was getting smaller, and you felt as though your gymnastics were improving. Not that Lance would let you think that, it was just your opinion. And so far, things were fine. 

You passed out a couple of times at home, but you didn’t think it was a big deal. Sleeping was getting harder and harder and eventually you gave up trying. You had dark circles under your eyes that you would hide behind concealers. Your hair was beginning to fall out but as long as you could still pull it into a bun, you were okay with that.

Everything was fine. Everything was fine.

You went into your house and locked the door behind you, after which you went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. You stepped in as soon as it was warm enough to tolerate, letting it wash over your permanently sore muscles. You let out a content sigh. At least the day was over. 

For the next 6 hours.

After you were done bathing, you turned off the water and dried yourself off with a towel, wrapping it around your small body after. You went into your room and put on the most comfortable clothes you could before laying back on your bed. You were exhausted really. You wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and just rest. But your body wouldn’t quite shut down enough for you to do that.

You tossed and turned for a while before you fell asleep finally hours later. Your alarm woke you up much earlier than you would have liked, and you groaned as you pulled yourself out of bed. And as you sat up, a wave of dizziness had you gripping the edges of your mattress, eyes clenching shut as you tried to breath through it. 

Once it had passed after a few moments, you stood up and went to get dressed in your normal gym attire before heading out the door to drive to the gym. At least today you weren’t going to be late.

You walked into the gym at 4:55, and sure enough Lance was in his natural state of being: arms crossed, chewing gum, and signature frown plastered on his face. When he saw you, he nodded in acknowledgement, telling you to stretch so the two of you could get started.

You put your bag and water off to the side before doing some floor stretches, silence deafening aside from the snapping of Lance’s gym. After stretching your legs out, you went to stand, stumbling a little again as another wave of dizziness hit you.

Lance furrowed his eyebrows together, not moving. “You okay?”

You nodded, glad that this wave was shorter. “Yep. I’m good.”

You went back to stretching, and Lance dropped it. 

You made your way over to the beam and pulled yourself up onto it. Standing, you made your way to the edge of the beam and got into your starting position. You went through your routine once, and you knew it wasn’t your best attempt.

“I don’t even know what the fuck to call that.” he said, exasperated. “Do it again.”

You sighed and walked back to the edge of the beam and got ready to start again. This time though, the handsprings got to be too much for you. Black spots invaded your vision again, and when you came to stand back up on the beam, you swayed on your feet, trying to get your balance. You heard ringing in your ears and your mouth went dry, before your legs gave out and you fell off the beam.

Lance had seen you sway and said your name when you stopped moving, but you didn’t respond to him. You hadn’t heard him. He saw you shake your head a few times, and ran to the beam in time to catch you before you hit the mat.

You were out cold.

Lance laid you down on the mat, taking note of how frail your body was. His  mind was racing with what had happened, or more importantly, why it happened. He had an idea but he was hoping he was wrong.

After about 30 seconds or so, you drifted back into consciousness, confused by what had just happened. Why were you on the floor? You tried to sit up, but Lance pushed down on your shoulders gently, preventing you from doing so. “Easy there y/n.”

Your eyes met Lance’s, and you realized what had happened. You had passed out in the middle of your routine. You had never fainted at practice before, and you were not excited with the conversation he was going to want to have.

“I’m fine Lance -”

“You passed out y/n.” he said, unconvinced.

You sighed, “Yeah, no shit Tucker.” 

He looked you up and down, studying you. You were pale, you had been so light when he caught you, and he had noticed lately that your ribs would poke out every now and again. More than was normal.

“When was the last time you ate something?”

You tried not to panic and gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean when was the last time you ingested food.”

You looked away, forcing out “Last night? I don’t know, I don’t really think about it.” It sounded a lot less confident than you would have liked it to. Lance picked up on this. “Well aren’t you sure? Seriously y/n, when was the last time you had a meal?”

You brought a hand to your face, shaking your head. You let out a breath. “The last time I ate something or the last time I had a full meal?” you asked quietly, tears forming in your hidden eyes.

Lance was a bit taken aback by your question. He thought they meant the same thing. Confused, he replied, “Both.”

You took another deep breath before saying “The last time I ate was a couple of days ago. The last meal I had…” you shook your head and shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”

His eyes widened as he realized the severity of the situation. And for the first time you saw concern on his face. After a few moments he asked “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I just wanted to be better!” you yelled out, finally sitting up. Your head pounded but you didn’t care. Lance gave you another confused look. “I don’t understand y/n.”

You sighed and brought your hand to your face again. “I just...I don’t know. Gymnasts are supposed to be tiny. And I thought if I was smaller I could do everything better. I…” tears welled in your eyes and a lump formed in your throat. ���I can’t eat, I don’t sleep, I work out more than you tell me to…” you shook your head. 

Lance’s face went white and he tried to figure out what he should say. He stood up and helped you do the same, leading you into his office so you could talk more. He sat down next to you. “You do realize that your body shuts down when you don’t eat, don’t you?” He was very familiar with eating disorders and what the consequences could be, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he was the best person to help someone with one. 

You bit your lip. You knew it, you just didn’t want to admit it. Because then you’d have a problem. One that you weren’t sure you wanted to fix.

He sighed at your hesitancy. “Well, it does. The body breaks down muscle instead of fat. Including your organs. You probably passed out because of your blood sugar. I’m not surprised considering the situation. This can kill you y/n.”

You looked away, ashamed. You knew it deep down, but you didn’t want to admit it. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to find something to say, tears in your eyes. “I don’t know…”

“Well it can. And if you don’t stop, it will.”

“I know, I just… I can’t… I just wish… fuck…” you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to gether yourself as tears fell from your eyes.

He sighed and rubbed your shoulder a little. “Look, this...isn’t okay. It’s not your fault that this happened, but it is your responsibility to do something about it.”

You let out a small sob and nodded a little, realization starting to wash over you. “I’m sorry.”

Lance shook his head. “Don’t be. Just don’t let it happen again,” he added with a small laugh. Returning to seriousness, he added, “I’m suspending you for a few weeks. I’ll make you a simple guide that will get some food into your system, and you need to just rest. You’re not allowed back here until you’re eating consistently. I’m not going to coach you if you’re not eating. Understand?”

You opened your mouth to protest “But -”

“Do you understand?”

You nodded reluctantly, biting your lip as another wave of tears welled in your eyes. His face softened. “You’re gonna be okay y/n. It’s going to fucking suck at first, but you’re storng. You can get through this.”

You nodded again, looking at him. “Thank you.”

“I got your back,kid.” he said as he pulled you into a hug. “I got your back.”

[fuhrmana]

i have all the questions! it's gonna be a lot of the same you asked me bc i kept wanting to ask "and you?" after answering each of them! so: 7, 8, 12, 13, 19, 20, 24, 25, 28, 38, 41, 51, 60, 84, 90, 97, 99 (i told you, ALL the questions. but like feel free to skip a few if you don't feel like answering them!)

wooo boy, this got long. . I’m gonna preemptively put everything under a read more.

7: do you name your plants? Weirdly enough, I don’t. I think it’s mostly because I rarely have repeated plants, and I buy a lot of single-season plants.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

Like, I’m not a very artistic person, so mostly I ingest other people’s content to help intensify how I’m feeling. 

12: what’s your favorite planet?

I would say pluto, just to be a jerk, but uh, probably earth 2 or Neptune for the ocean representation 13: what’s something that made you smile today?

I went out for sushi with some coworkers, and we were all making jokes about when we’d make VP, because there have been A Round of promotions lately. The sushi itself would have made anyone smile, but it was also nice to go out and make jokes. 

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I have fifteen BEAUTIFUL journals and… I have nothing written/drawn in them. For a few years I kept an online journal but uh, xanga went out of business, and it’s lost to the ether now. 

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

It’s certainly internal bias, but I love green eyes. I mean, not to hate: blue eyes are beautiful, and brown eyes are all dark and broody until the light strikes them and then they are SHOCKINGLY beautiful, but green’s my favorite. 

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

No. 

Well, I mean, if it’s just a matter of trust, there are several people who, if I HAD to, I could share everything with, but I don’t want to. Some things are kept secret for a reason, okay?

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

The abandoned green houses by my high school: you had to slip in under a fence and sneak into the ditch and then you couldn’t go into the greenhouses themselves because all the glass was shattered all around them, but there was a little hill you could hide next to (the dude who owned it would literally chase you out with his dogs if he spotted you) and get stoned. Honestly, one the most beautiful places: but very post-apocalypse, with BRIGHT, VIBRANT green grass, and the glass would catch the light and it was spectacular. 

28: sunrise or sunset?

Sunset for sure: which might be west coast bias. You can only watch the sun set at the beach, and nothing is more beautiful 

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

I hate it when public transit is more than ten minutes late. I hate it when people start meetings without closing the door. I am SO grossed out by people who don’t take their dirty dishes to the sink, I’m so mad that dresses don’t all come with pockets, my mom’s insistence that she can always taste yogurt when it’s in a dish, my dad’s inst– you know what, I think I’ve said enough.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

You know, I’m thinking about one that I have no complicated feelings about, and that’s the series that begins with “The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland In A Ship Of Her Own Making”. There have been other books, even a few that have come out more recently, but this whole series warms my cold, old, withered heart. I’m going to buy them for my oldest niece soon.

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

Oh, this IS embarrassing but this

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

I’m VERY picky, and I mostly like individual poems, but I love e e cummings, and I get chills thinking “dead has a smile like the nicest man you’ve never metwho maybe winks at you in a streetcar and you pretendyou don’t but really you do see and you are My howglad he winked and hope he’ll do it again”and robert service is fun (and funny!) and I do like wilfred owen, and I adore Mercedes de Acosta, which makes sense because she was a lovely lady who loved ladies. 

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

gosh! I don’t know. I’m indecisive about it. I kind of want to get the work “Truth” tattooed on my hip, so the truth can always be on my side, but honestly…. I just don’t think I like anything enough to get it done. 

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

This is very difficult. I’d talk about Berne, but I was only there for a few hours, and I’d talk about Mill Valley but it’s not really a city, and I’d talk about Santa Rosa, but it’s hardly my favorite city, and I’d talk about Sion but you’ve done a better job than I ever could and living in SF has honestly ruined it for me. 

So, Zanzibar. It’s no secret that I loved every part of Tanzania I spent time in, and the week I spent in Zanzibar was magical. Stonestown/Old town was a warren, and you could get lost in a second but it was okay because it wasn’t that big and as soon as you were lost, you’d wander right out, and in the regular city you’d know right where you were, and and be able to wander right back in. 

I ended up on an island with hundreds of tortoises and what looked to be the prison from The Count of Monte Cristo, and we didn’t come back till it was dark and our driver was panicked. I didn’t particularly like the people I was traveling with, so I kept wandering off by myself, much to the concern of a lot of people.

And this song was playing EVERYWHERE, which was… comforting (it had been playing in Shirati as well). It was like every time you turned a corner something amazing or shocking or horrifying was happening, and it was the perfect cap of my trip. 

I’d love to go back someday. 

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

Literally anything by Carly Rae, but I’m particularly jamming to this rn

I still can’t hear Fast Car without tearing up. Songs that make my heart SWOOSH for VERY different reasons: Garotos, Dancing On The Run, Volvo Driving Soccer Mom (or like, all of Everclear?)And a song I’d LOVE to passionately sing for karaoke: Truly Madly Deeply