life is just getting from one helping of cheese fries to another

So Talk

Fanfic tiiiiiime

Bughead ficlet

Summary:

“I didn’t think you even liked girls,” Archie said finally, playing with his paper straw wrapper.

“I don’t.” Jughead answered, eyes meeting Archie across the lip of his mug.

“You don’t?” Archie asked, a tiny bit of hopefulness creeping into his voice.

“I just like Betty.“

Pop’s Diner. Ten pm. Jughead did not even look up from the screen when Archie slid into the booth across from him. His fingers continued to move across the keyboard steadily. The only break he took was to drain the dregs of his coffee cup and then continue working.

“So,” Archie said finally. “You and Betty.”

Jughead allowed his eyes to flicker across at the redhead before turning back to the screen.

“So that’s weird.” Archie finished, huffing a little in amusement.

Jughead stopped typing.

“Not like… bad weird. Wow, okay, so that sounded rude. That’s not what I meant it’s just- you know, you? And Betty? She’s, you know…. and you’re so… yeah.” Archie trailed off. Rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. Sighed.

Jughead began typing again.

After a moment, Archie got up. Jughead did not watch him go, but when Archie returned with a soda and a refill of coffee he accepted the cup with a nod of thanks.

“I didn’t think you even liked girls,” Archie said finally, playing with his paper straw wrapper.

“I don’t.” Jughead answered, eyes meeting Archie across the lip of his mug.

“You don’t?” Archie asked, a tiny bit of hopefulness creeping into his voice.

“I just like Betty.”

Jughead put the cup down and closed the lid of his laptop. The two boys, best friends, maybe rivals, looked at each other for a moment then. Archie broke first. Jughead knew he would.

“It was always me and you and me and her. So this feels…”

“Unacceptable?” Jughead asked dryly.

“Unexpected.” Archie corrected. “Should it be? Unexpected, I mean.”

“For you, sure.”

“But not for you two?”

“I can’t speak for her.”

“So speak for you.”

Pops came by then and dropped two plates- deluxe burgers, cheese fries. Jughead’s stiff posture softened slightly at the sight of the food- a peace offering. He picked up a fry. Archie let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Your whole life, Archie, you’ve had this story. You and Betty, girl next door. Perfect. Sweet and thoughtful and gorgeous. You know everything about her- you know where she got that scar above her left elbow. You know what she looks like with chicken pox. You’ve seen her naked- though not since you were like six. Probably one day you’re gonna marry her.”

Archie jerked in his seat a little- hands holding the burger stilled even as the onion and tomato slipped from the bun and onto the plate. He seemed almost hypnotized.

“But today is not that day.” Jughead pauses to stir his coffee and Archie knows in the back of his mind that this is for dramatic effect but he can’t help being swept along.

Jughead’s a hell of a writer.

“You’re in high school. Who wants to live their whole life with the girl next door? You want adventure. You want to meet and woo and love enough women so that when you and Betty come together? You’re ready to make it stick. No one wants to break up with a girl like Betty.”

Archie started to speak but Jughead jabbed his fry in the air, cutting him off.

“Here’s the problem, Arch.” Jughead smiled a little, sardonically.

“I know she got that scar jumping into the lake on a dare and cutting her arm on a piece of metal because she did it so I wouldn’t have to. I was scared of the water and Reggie was being a dick. I remember how red and swollen and chipmunk faced she got in second grade- because I gave her the chicken pox. We could only hang out with each other for a week because everyone else was afraid of getting infected. Which is also when we shared an oatmeal bath.” Jughead raises an eyebrow and the joke is so foreign- girls, and baths, and Jughead- that it doesn’t even register that Archie should smile or react in some way.

“And you’d marry her.” Archie said. His voice was flatter than he’d intended.

“Probably.” Jughead conceded, picking up his burger now that his fries were gone.

“Have you always-?” Archie asked, pushing his half eaten food aside.

“Mm.” Jughead murmured thoughtfully around a mouthful. “More or less. But I figured- Archie and Betty. Endgame? No chance.”

Archie shook his head, but more out of confusion than denial.

“I kissed her,” Jughead said abruptly.

Archie gave a shaky laugh. “Okay, that was rude, but I seriously can’t picture you kissing anybody.”

Jughead grinned despite himself. “It’s all very 80’s teen comedy. Social outcast after the golden girl cheerleader.”

“Betty isn’t like that. She doesn’t think like that.” Archie said, no longer laughing.

“Then maybe- just me. Just she won’t want me. Maybe me knowing her enough to fall for her was enough for her to see what’s wrong with me and that she should just stay away. I’m not really a part of this-” Jughead gestured faintly around.

“Jughead-” Archie began.

“No, I know. I already know what you’re going to say. You said it with the burger.” Jughead smiled a bit and pushed away his empty plate.

“So what now?” Archie asked, pushing the rest of his plate towards his friend. Jughead picked up the other half.

“Whatever she wants,” he said, adding ketchup to the burger.

“You’d be, what, her boyfriend? Walk her to her locker? School dances?” Archie looked skeptical but Jughead gave him a look and even around the food it said for Betty? For Betty, participate in this pointless social posturing?

But he’d been sitting at their lunch table.

He’d been writing for the newspaper.

He’d been coming to class regularly, and on time.

He was changing.

Everything was.

“And what if she wants to be friends?” Archie asked. And this time his voice held concern- warm concern- for the someone who hadn’t had his heart broken. And his eyes when they looked over Jughead seemed to say I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to feel how I made her feel.

“Whatever she wants,” Jughead said, but his voice dropped a little.

And they both understood without saying it.

Best friends do.

Notes:

Oh look another fandom to write for cause I wasn’t stuck on five ongoings or whatever,

A Beginner's Guide to Detoxing

For tmphenomenon:

I was looking forward to writing this for you because I love seeing young, black people do things to better their overall health (so we can be fine and sexy forever and slay into eternity, Amen). ALSO, ‘CAUSE, YOU’RE FAM FOR LIFE!!!

Why people detox:

When we enjoy delicious ass shit from our affordable fast food restaurants, we are destroying our body. Most of the time, the food we eat has been fried, dyed, processed, “enriched,” packaged, repackaged, and distributed, so by the time it gets to us it’s not really even food, though it tastes fucking amazing. It really messes with our internal health and perspective, clouding our judgment and fucking up our life. The healthier you eat and drink in general, the more clarity you have.

To combat the nasties, your body needs mini-cleanses every now and then so your digestive system can properly eliminate the bad, allowing for the absorption of good vitamins and nutrients we actually need. This strengthens your immune system and cleanses the blood. It also helps to block certain negative creepy crawlies that try to infect our cells.

The body eliminates toxins via the kidneys, intestines, lungs, skin, and lymph nodes, but most of the time it’s using all of its energy to break down everything we eat. Therefore, the toxins just float around and wreck havoc because the body ain’t got time to kick them out.

Buckle, up! Here we go! 

BODY

Food + drinks:

1. Lots of liquids- this flushes out all the bad stuff. It’s good that you already drink lots of water, but we need to kick that up a notch with herbs that will help cleanse your liver and colon, bettering your overall digestive health. I, of course, being a ratchet hippie, recommend tea. 

 a) infuse water overnight (slices of cucumber or lemon in a bottle). See tumblr for the chart of when is best to drink water for the most benefits + recipes at bottom.

b) green tea or herbal tea, start off with green +honey then work your way up 

c) juice! -fresh, not-from-concentrate, not- bullshit into thinking it’s healthy

You don’t even need a juicer, honestly. pour some water in a blender and spinach in there. BOOM. juice.

2. Fresh fruits and veggies (it’s cheaper to do this in smoothie-form). Big bags of spinach, bananas, and whatever fruit you blended up in a cheap blender (I got my from Wal-Mart for $15 and found another one at Goodwill for 3).

3. Fiber: This will help your body get rid of the toxins easier. I recommend eating at least one of the following ever day: brown rice, sprouted bread (NOTHING “enriched,” that just means bleached to look pretty -__-), cabbage, broccoli, spirulina, chlorella, etc. Fruits and veggies have an ass of fiber, so if you’re already eating those, you’re good.*

*If you don’t want to do the actual work, I recommend Bolthouse farms green juices. They taste good, have no preservatives, and are like 2.35 for 8 servings at Aldi. If y'all don’t have Aldi, I’ll get you some. Also, a lot of people mix these with water to stretch them, but also to make sure your body isn’t overwhelmed.

4. Take some type of vitamin. When I was drunk I ranted about “eating the rainbow,” because different colors correspond to different essential nutrients we need to survive the human experience. These colors also correspond to the 7 chakras. If you’re eating right, it balances other aspects of your life as well. Most of the time ain’t nobody got money or time for that, so buy a cheap one-a-day multivitamin so you won’t shock your body during detox.

What do the colors of fruits and veggies mean? (pic via @catasana)

Blue/purple= high antioxidant + balance bood pressure

Green= remove toxins and carcinogens, also sources of vitamin K, folic acid, omega 3 fatty acids

Yellow= Lutein (good for eyes), healthy fats, pretty skin

Red= powerful antioxidants 

Orange= vitamins A +C

Tans/weird beiges–usually high fiber content

5. Healthy fats- Depending on how long you want to detox, you’ll need to reintroduce heavier foods into your diet, after mostly eating fruits, vegetables, seeds, etc., so you won’t shock your body when you eat a piece of pizza

Try: Salmon, avocados, walnuts, etc.

6. Simply substitute slowly (alliteration for that ass!) Going cold turkey will make you miserable. Instead of french fries, get sweet potato fries. Instead of ranch dressing, get Italian or something oil/vinegar based. Instead of iceberg lettuce (which is honestly trash, and I would slap the fuck out of anyone who tried to serve it to me), get romaine. 

1 month detox:

First week: just drink one green smoothie/drink/tea (or eat your fill of fruit) every morning and don’t change anything else. Soon your body will start to crave whatever is in your smoothie.

You can also alternate between a green smoothie, a scrambled egg on toast w/ avocado, or BOTH. Whatever else you want that’s not like… frosted flakes you can pretty much have. You just want you body to get into a routine. Avoid heavy, delicious foods like pancakes, pasta (anything wheat-based. we’re prepping your digestive system) and no candy +sugar.

Second week: Make your breakfast AND lunch “green.” Have a big ass salad or lots of vegetables with a side of sweet potatoes or something. NO CHEESE (feta/goat cheese is okay though–easier for body to digest and less allergenic). We’re not even supposed to have dairy products, because it doesn’t agree with our systems at all, plus it’s gross (but so delicious).

I tell non-vegetarians that it’s okay to have chicken and lighter choices, but stay away from beef and dairy products. Listen to your body. Once it’s detoxing, you’ll start to crave everything you DON’T need to have. Especially sugar. Pretty much any fast food we eat is jacked up on sucrose. 

The first 2-3 days you might feel super crappy because your body is ridding yourself of toxins, but  once you get past that you’ll have an unusual amount of energy.

Third week: If you made it past the cravings hurdle, up the ante. Have a green juice before bed as well as in the morning. Stick with your one green meal for lunch or dinner. It is important that you eat enough, otherwise you will feel weak. Plants and herbs give you a lot of energy but you need to EAT them and drink them. We feel full after eating a burger but lethargic the next day because we just poisoned our body. We feel awesome after having a big ole salad because we basically just ate direct sun energy.

Last week: Listen to your body. The first time I did any kind of detox, I was so eager to stick to a plan, but every plan doesn’t work for everybody. Your body will tell you what it needs and by this time you’ll know what it is you’re supposed to be eating and drinking. It takes 21 days to break a habit (I don’t know if this is true, but let’s go with that).

Also, your body might not need a full month, and it might need longer than a month. You can tell how you’re doing by your energy level, whether or not you had a detox reaction (the feeling crappy, almost flu-like), and if you’re shitting regularly. 

Common types of detoxes:

Some people detox for weight loss, health issues, or just want to give their bodies a break. From what I’ve experienced, here are the most popular types:

1) Strictly juicing/liquids: unfeasible for you because you’re on your feet all day or using your energy on snapchat. The longest I’ve seen someone do a juice cleanse is for 41 days, but usually they’re 3-5, just to give your body a break)

2) All green- basically, no animal products and not a lot of processed food. Plant-based/(80/20 raw/cooked) are common forms. If you eat pasta/fries/pizza, you make it yourself and know all the ingredients going into it. Be cheap and buy frozen fruits and vegetables and make stir fry. Whatever you want to learn how to make, check out organigasm’s instagram and I’ll send you the recipe. It doesn’t have to be flavorless and fucking boring to be healthy.

3) Paleo- Yes: Fruits, Vegetables, Seafood, Nuts & Seeds, Healthy Fats, Lean Meat. No: Dairy, Grains, Processed Food, Processed Sugar, Legumes, Starches, Alcohol. Honestly, I think this diet is a fad that comes up with different names every few decades. Seriously, a bunch of rich people use this to diet or have “healthy lifestyles,” but thousands upon thousands of families don’t have access to these types of foods. I digress.

MIND:

1. Set your intentions when you wake up in the morning. Example: “Today, will be fan-fucking-tastic,” or you can thank the creator or thank your body for helping you out with your shenanigans. Keep it to yourself, write it down, shout it out, whatever. You need to start your day with positive thoughts to ensure you have the willpower to make it. You will crave everything you DO NOT need.

2. Work-out at least 30 minutes a day, and if you can’t do that, try 3/7 times a week. Start somewhere. Dance it out when you get out of the shower, walk down the street at a fast pace–whatever, again, just get moving.

3. For strength of body and mind, I recommend yoga, and I hope your stubborn ass considers it (it also makes for fun sex, I’m just saying).

Here’s a link to good poses for detoxing: http://bodyunburdened.com/yoga-for-detox-10-poses-that-promote-cleansing/ + youtube and netflix have free videos FOR NOOBZ!#@

4. Before you go to bed, clear all the negative energy you can. I’m not gonna get into all the stuff, but like when you woke up, write it down, draw it out, etc.

Doing this throughout the detox will allow you to clear your mind and determine what works for you during this new journey!

5. Get enough sleep–This is a tough one, but while you’re sleeping your body does the most incredible things. Seriously, you will thank yourself. Even if you only get 4 hours of sleep, getting 15 extra minutes, then gradually increasing REALLY helps.

Final tips:

1. eat your biggest meal at lunchtime (your metabolism is peaking from about 12pm-8pm)

2. SLEEP. Seriously. Your body is healing you. Let it help.

3. I will help you meal prep, but frozen vegetables + canned beans, packaged nuts keep the costs of detoxing low. Also, farmer’s have good ass prices. Take a fine honey on a date to the farmer’s market and cook a sexy meal afterwards.

4. Try new things. Seriously. You can’t eat a cucumber and an apple every day and expect magic to happen. 

5. Don’t overcook anything. Leave that broccoli a little crunchy. Don’t kill the nutrients, bro.

6. cheat! allow yourself one day during the first two weeks to cheat on your detox, or whenever you fucking feel like. you deserve rounds… of krispy kreme donuts. TREAT. YO. SELF. 

7. Don’t count calories, or carbs, or whatever the fuck the newest pyramid says to do. 

Good Water Infusion Combos:

1. lemon/lime +mint + honey

2. strawberries, blueberries

3. pineapple + basil

4. grapefruit/orange

5. mango + peaches

6. apple+ cinnamon + honey 

Final thoughts: Really, once you get used to it, you’re always detoxing. Even drinking a cup of tea a day and still eating like shit is better than nothing.  Just be kind to yourself. It’s a process, and I’m still learning, but I get better every day. Good luck! I’m always here to help. 

Now, let’s go detox, y'all.

✌️

It’s Complicated - Theo Raeken

Summary: Based of one of my favorite songs Bad Things by MGK ft. Camila Cabello. Takes place during season 6.

Theo Raeken x Reader

Word Count: 2,976

Author’s Note: Second imagine! Wooo! I was never really a Theo girl. I couldn’t understand the appeal since he was evil. But I love this song and I thought it’d be great for Theo. I know the song is called Bad Things, but it could have easily been called it’s complicated. Also, I’m still not 100% sure what Cody’s eye color is. It looks blueish but sorta greenish. Idk. If you know, tell me please. 

It’s late but it’s still Teen Wolf Tuesday

P.S. Some of the words are lyrics to the song. I wish I could take credit, then I could pay off some of this college debt. In other words, I don’t own them.

Originally posted by stilinski-jpeg

Mrs. Douglas was going on about some science experiment she was going to have the class do. But you were too busy staring out the window to pay attention. There was going to be a full moon tonight. Which meant another night you were going to wolf-out. It’s been 3 months since Theo got dragged to wherever the hell he was, which meant it was going to be the 3rd time you’d get chained up at Lydia’s lake house. Theo was your anchor, and with him gone you had no one to think of to calm you.

Some would say you were out of your mind to be in love with Theo Raeken. Some being Stiles. You couldn’t really explained why you fell for the original chimera.

Keep reading

Never Say Never

Four times Lexa said she was never having kids and one time she didn’t.

A Quality Ingredients one shot during full chapter hiatus time.  Kids keep popping up in Lexa’s life to remind her of why she’s never wanted any.  Came from a prompt about kids.  Takes place in November.

Keep reading

saltoverboard  asked:

Where Nico is in the army and he comes back after 4 years to finally start college and he is Will's roommate

look at me actually doing another one of my prompts so soon after i did the last one

i gotta admit i thought ths prompt was great but i wasn’t expecting it to get so out of hand. like. it’s so long. normally i post from mobile but here i am actually on a computer to add in a cut beCASUSE IT’S SO UNBELIEVABLY LONG brace yourself

also the last time i tried to add in a cut something weird happened where it wouldn’t show what i had written after the cut so if anything weird like that happens again don’t be afraid to let me know like ya’ll did last time

also before we get started: ((tw)) there’s some kinda graphic nightmares and one of the characters has a panic attack. just a psa for anyone who’s sensitive to that kind of stuff



The reassimilation process was something Nico had not looked forward to. Seeing friends after years of being apart, eating his favorite sugary cereal, taking naps whenever he wanted? Easy. Getting to know what life was like without fear? Probably a bit harder.

Nico had snuck into the army when he should’ve been a senior in high school. Of course, he was found out a bit later on and forced to complete his studies online.

(Which seemed very stupid to Nico at the time. War was happening right in front of everyone’s faces, but they were focusing on the meaningless studies of a kid who didn’t care too much about stuff like that. And then the war ended and suddenly Nico had no clue what to do with himself. He was glad the Sargent Reyna had forced him to finish high school.)

Without the rigidity of the army and the war providing Nico with some sort of purpose, he found himself enrolling in a quiet university to maybe get a degree in psychology or some other -ology. Tuition was free thanks to his four year service, and nothing was really holding him back, so he just decided to full on commit and live in the dorms.

Maybe communal living would help the assimilation process.

Nico had expected a roommate who talked little to him and minded his own business because Nico could get scary. What he did not expect was a boy the human equivalent of a Labrador retriever who only ceased to be quiet when he slept throwing paper planes at the ceiling and asking about the meaning of shades of the same color in different contexts.

Keep reading

No More Secrets

Felicity was thinking about that day last year when Oliver moved out. It felt like they were inside an iceberg. Their life together had stopped moving and Oliver seemed like a stranger to her. Felicity’s feelings were raw and it took everything in her to keep from screaming. Oliver’s stuff was in boxes and both of them maneuvered around them like they were landmines. It was a horrible day.

Felicity walked into the kitchen and almost started to cry. On that day he left, Oliver told her he didn’t need his pots and pans, his spice racks and cutting knives. He left it all behind, probably thinking that Felicity could make better use of them. The whole year and a half they were apart, Felicity cooked no meals with those implements. In fact, she just avoided using the kitchen—except for the microwave and the coffee maker. It wasn’t because she couldn’t cook (she couldn’t) but because every time she went into the room, Oliver was still there.

There were so many memories here—good and bad. Felicity looked at the main counters of the kitchen and could still see indentations from the bullets Darkhe’s ghosts had fired. That had been a crazy night. Darkhe almost killed her mother. Curtis was nearly killed as well. She could only stand there, helpless and unable to protect those she cared about. If Oliver and John hadn’t crashed through the upstairs window and disrupted Darkhe’s intentions, he mother would have died.

Felicity moved out into the living room. Looking back on that time, she almost couldn’t recognize the person she was then and who she is now. Everything that came after: her father, Havenrock, Oliver being heroic and killing Darkhe, her decision to stay and continue to fight by Oliver’s side, that sweet time in the Bunker with him, her meeting Billy—it all put her on a downward spiral. Oliver was still an open wound in her heart, but she could not go back to him, she could not be a part of his life while she felt left out of it. Oliver wanted to talk about what happened between them, but it just didn’t feel right to her, even after they shared sex with each other. She told him she loved him, but it wasn’t enough if he did not trust her completely. It was about him not including her in the danger and turmoil and decisions of their lives, not as Overwatch, but as his partner and wife.

Felicity suddenly felt hungry. She thought about going back into the kitchen to make a sandwich but decided against it.  It was Oliver’s kitchen again, and a little anticipation moved through her at the thought of listening to the sounds of him making them dinner again, something delicious. Tonight, maybe. And tomorrow—breakfast in bed perhaps.

Felicity picked up her cell and texted Oliver, asking him to stop on the way back from his storage unit and pick up something to eat. When she was done, Felicity moved over to one of Oliver’s boxes. It felt good putting his things back into place. She opened the box and saw a notebook lying inside. Actually, there seemed to be several of them. Curious, Felicity took the top notebook out and opened it. It was Oliver’s writing, and as she started reading the first sentences, Felicity realized she had stumbled onto Oliver’s private thoughts:

August, 2016

           I don’t know if this journal is such a good idea. But Felicity told me that facing my demons, dealing with the horrors and the darkness they created will eventually bring closure. She told me to embrace our life together. I would not be the man I am today without her. So I thought about it and decided on this journal. I trust her. I always have.

Felicity wasn’t hungry anymore. She took Oliver’s journal over to the couch and went deeper into the mind of the man she loves.

**

Oliver pulled the U-Haul up in front of the building that housed his new/old home. The last of his stuff was in the back—about five trips worth up to the loft. On the seat next to him was a bag with their lunch—two Big Belly deluxe’s, an order of onion rings for him and cheese fries for Felicity. Over the last year, while they were apart, Oliver had changed his diet; more fruit and vegetables and less sloppy burgers. Yet when Felicity texted him suggesting he get something to eat, it seemed almost nostalgic that he get the burgers.

The moving could wait. He grabbed the food, made sure the truck was secure, and went into the building.

**

Felicity dug further into the box and took out the remaining notebooks. It was like finding a rare book, (Felicity was thinking Joseph Conrad’s Heart Of Darkness.) The value of Oliver’s writing was priceless. It told his story, raw and unfiltered. A small part of her felt guilty, as if she was spying on him. But he told her when they decided to move back in together that there were no more secrets between t them. Did that include this journal? Felicity reasoned that if he didn’t want her to read it, he wouldn’t have so casually left it out like this.

She turned another page:

Lian Yu

Slade told me to go into the tower and take out the radio operator. Kill him. Once the radio was secured, we could send a message to Slade’s people, coordinates to the island. I was still inexperienced in this kind of stuff. Yes, I killed that merc with a rock, smashing his head into unrecognizable pulp, but I was crazy insane when I did.  This time, I would have my wits. I guess Slade’s plan was a good one—maybe if he had ten highly trained ops guys instead of a greenhorn ex-billionaire playboy.

Felicity was completely lost in Oliver’s words, turning the pages almost hypnotically as his life on the island unfolded.

“Felicity…”

She did not hear Oliver come into the loft. When he spoke her name, Felicity looked up from the journal and saw him standing inside the door, a bag of Big Belly in his hand and a look of being startled on his face. Guilt swept through her again.

“Oliver…I’m…I found…Oliver, I’m sorry.” She was in complete babble mode.

He put the hamburgers down on the entry table and moved over to the couch. “Felicity, it’s alright.”

Felicity got off the couch and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oliver, I never would have pried into your personal stuff…I thought I would help unpack the boxes…but I couldn’t stop reading…”

“Felicity,” he spoke in the ear. “It’s okay. I told you I didn’t want to keep more secrets from you. I haven’t written anything in there since…well, since we broke up.”

She entangled herself from him and stepped back. “Oliver, these are not secrets. They’re…they’re you.”

“Yeah, I guess so. A part of me. But are your sure you want to know the person in those pages?”

“Oliver…yes. With all my heart and soul.”

He nodded. “Okay, but Felicity, we should eat first. You might need strength to get through them. But before you lose yourself in my words, can I ask you a question?”

“Oliver, anything.”

“How far are you in the journal?”

“Well, you and Slade just took over the radio in that tower. Pretty exciting, by the way.”

Oliver nodded but had nothing to add.

Felicity looked over at the bag of food on the table. “Did you get me…”

“Cheese fries,” he finished for her. “I did.” He shook his head with mock disgust. “Felicity, you do know that they’re not very healthy?”

“Oliver, after everything we’ve gone through all these years, cheese fries is the least danger to my health.”

Oliver chuckled. “Fair enough.” He nodded at the notebooks. “That might not be so healthy either; I mean mentally. There is a lot of disturbing and violent stuff.”

“Oliver, I’ve been shot, paralyzed, responsible for the death of an entire town, paralyzed again via EMP, almost killed in an elevator shaft and tortured by Chase—I think I can handle it.”

“Felicity, okay. I’m not saying you can’t. But there are some pretty brutal and graphic moments I’m not proud of.”

“Oliver you said at the beginning of this that you trust me. That is something I will never doubt again. But you need to trust me now. There is nothing in here that will change how I feel about you. I love you—darkness and all.”

Oliver smiled at her. “Felicity, I have an idea. Why don’t we eat first, then go upstairs and make love. I have a sudden desire to hear you call out my name in ecstasy. After, I will read my words out loud to you.”

Felicity took his hand. “Oliver, that’s a great idea. But forget the food—I want some of that ecstasy first.”

She marked her place in Oliver’s journal and they went upstairs.

@hope-for-olicity @louiseblue1 @lovelycssefan @tdgal1 @dmichellewrites @memcjo @it-was-a-red-heeler @wherethereissmoak

Stupid Love


Simon Dominic’s POV

         "Why is this elevator so fuckin slow?!“ I muttered to myself, more like cursing. I was inside the elevator, going to Sunghwa’s apartment. After few seconds leaning lazily on the elevator wall, finally the elevator dinged and opened. I sighed in relief, walking out from elevator then suddenly my eyes caught on something interesting.

         There was young lady with black hair off to her shoulder walked to my direction, she was really pretty, her pointy nose, pale skin and small pouting lips which made her more attractive on my eyes.

         Geez, I couldn’t stop ogling at her but I needed to stop. It was kind of rude and impolite to look at opposite sex with daring eyes, I won’t be caught and accused as pervert. So I looked down, watching my own steps when she passed by me.

         Who is she?
         Her sweet fragrance could be smelled, I was sure it was kind of gum fragrance, so sweet and geez— I needed to check her again. I stopped and turned my head to see her but that damn elevator already closed, bringing her away from my sight.

Keep reading

Don’t Mess with Jim Bob

By mrs momona © 2017

Jim Bob Cleaver stood before the Judge, blond head bowed, looking at the floor, hoping that he was acting humble enough. His lawyer had told him not to smirk or even smile during his trial for receiving stolen goods, and to try to look and act like the fair-haired football hero that he had been when he was the big man on campus at the local high school. None of it had worked, not even the expensive new “preppy” clothes which his girlfriend had bought for him to wear to the trial. The jury had found him guilty, the judge had revoked his bail, and here he was, squeezed into a bright orange jumpsuit, hands cuffed together in front of him.

Jim Bob’s bright blue eyes remained staring at the floor as the Judge started speaking. “Jim Bob, our whole town has known you all your life. You were the high school football quarterback, homecoming king, and senior class president. You were truly destined for big things when you graduated from high school four years ago. You had the whole world in front of you. Instead of making something for yourself, you chose to drop out of college. Instead of working and supporting yourself, you chose to sponge off your girlfriend…”  Jim Bob struggled really hard to avoid smirking at this point. He thought to himself that the Judge might call it sponging, but he would just call it payment for services rendered. In return for keeping his girlfriend happy in bed, she supported him, and actually gave him everything he wanted—new car, fancy clothes, all the pot and beer and good food he wanted, all of it.

The Judge continued, “…you chose to sponge off your girlfriend, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, and formed a criminal ring to earn more money for yourself. Even though you didn’t steal any cars yourself, you hired others to do the dirty work while you took a cut off the top of the selling price of every stolen car which was resold. Because this is your first offense…”

Look serious, look serious, Jim Bob told himself. This is it. He stared at the floor and tried to focus on his bright orange jumpsuit as a way of avoiding showing any hint of the cockiness that had always been the main feature of his personality. Actually, Jim Bob’s view downwards was blocked by the round orange-clad bulge of his big fat belly and the two smaller round bulges in the tightly stretched orange cotton cloth which marked his fat bulging man boobs.

“…I hereby sentence you to one year in the State Prison, followed by five years probation.” The Judge stopped speaking. Jim Bob looked up at him, and said in a voice which he hoped sounded sincere, “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As Jim Bob was led out of the courtroom, he turned and glanced at three people sitting right behind the defense area. His girlfriend Polly was crying, tears running down the cheeks of her flawlessly made up face, auburn hair glistening in the bright courtroom lights. Her expensive silk dress showed off her 44-22-40 figure. She still looked like the high school cheerleader and only child of the wealthiest man in town she had been when she and Jim Bob become an item their sophomore year in high school.

Next to Polly sat Chester, Jim Bob’s first cousin.  Tears streamed down Chester’s round cheeks. He and Jim Bob were the same age, had been raised together, and thought of themselves as brothers. Although he now had the build of an offensive guard-gone-to-fat, he had been the receiver on the same football team Jim Bob had quarterbacked. Next to Chester sat Brittany, Chester’s girl friend since high school.

Polly mouthed to Jim Bob “I love you” as the guards led him into the back room.

No one else from Jim Bob’s family was there. He was an only child, and his father, one of the local preachers, and his mother had both passed away from lung cancer within two years after Jim Bob’s graduation from high school—they had always been heavy smokers.

In the Guard Room behind the courtroom, the guard motioned to Jim Bob to take a seat.  Jim Bob eased himself down. The orange jumpsuit was so tight that Jim Bob had to sit carefully for fear that a seam would fail. Wouldn’t do for the big shot of the local high school to suffer the embarrassment of bursting out of his clothes, even if it was only a jail uniform.

At that point, another guard came in, carrying a large McDonald’s bag. Jim Bob recognized Billy Jones, one of his high school football team mates who had been a tackle. They had been known each other in high school but hadn’t moved in the same crowd. After high school, Billy had gone into law enforcement and now he was proudly encased in a snug guard’s uniform. Their paths had parted aside from the “wassup’s” they exchanged when they ran into each other around town.

“Hey, man”, said Billy, “thought I’d bring you some lunch. You’ve got a long trip ahead of you this afternoon, big guy.”  He patted Jim Bob’s bulging belly as he said this. Like most of their classmates, he couldn’t get over how much Jim Bob had let himself go in the four years since high school graduation. “Thanks, dude,” replied Jim Bob, “breakfast at the jail this morning wasn’t much.” He opened the bag and took out the three double quarter pounders with cheese, supersize fries, 20 piece nuggets, 3 fried apple pies, and large strawberry shake.

“This may be your last good meal for a while, man”, said Billy .” I hear that at State Prison, all the inmates are on tight rations.” He couldn’t help but stare at Jim Bob as he said this. He thought to himself how Jim Bob had changed since their football days when at 5’9”, 160, he was one of the best quarterbacks in the state. Usually a polite guy, Billy was kind of surprised at himself when he heard himself asking Jim Bob, “say man, not to be nosy, but how much weight are you carrying now?”

Jim Bob laughed and drawled, “No problem, dude. When I was arrested , they weighed me in at 292. Think I must have dropped a few on that jail food since then, though.”

Billy thought to himself, 292! No wonder the other guards were talking about how they were having a hard time finding a jumpsuit to fit Jim Bob. Jim Bob’s big round belly and big bulging man boobs, his thick love handles,  his enormous protruding round butt, and his thick thighs stretched the thin cloth of the jumpsuit in all directions.

“Wow, friend. You really have picked up some pounds since football.” Billy thought this was a good topic for conversation to distract Jim Bob from his prison sentence. Jim Bob scarfed down his lunch as they waited for the van to take Jim Bob to prison. Jim Bob replied to his old teammate, talking while eagerly chewing mouthfuls of food.

“Well Billy, I guess I’m a sure enough fat boy now”, Jim Bob drawled, “…you know how it goes. After football was finished the weekend beer and pot parties started to put some pounds on me. At first, I thought Polly would mind it when I began to put on a pot belly and my ass started chubbing up, but dude, it’s like the fatter I get the more she likes it. Billy,  I mean, she LOVES it.”

The two 22-year-olds exchanged knowing glances, Jim Bob thinking back to how hot Polly was as she worshipped his expanding body, and Billy just thinking of how hot Polly always had been.

Jim Bob continued, “As far as Polly is concerned, dude, all I have to do is lounge around all day eating and relaxing while her daddy’s money just rolls in. So, I’ve been livin’ high on the hog! I just need to make sure ‘Little Mr. Jim Bob’ here is ready for action whenever she wants it.” He laughed as he reached beneath the watermelon sized bulge of his fat belly and grabbed his crotch for emphasis.

“Hey man, there’s nothing bad about getting fat. Most of the guys on our team have really porked up since we stopped playing football. I must have put on a good 50 lbs myself ever since I passed the physical to become a guard and could relax a little. And looks like your cousin Chester has been doing some good eating, too.” Billy laughed and patted his own belly.

Jim Bob drawled, “Yeah, ol’ Chester’s put on about a hundred or so. He tells me his girlfriend always bugs him about his weight, but dude, you should see him shovel the food in when he comes over for dinner. He’s a big ol` heifer. The only time he stops eating is when there’s no food left.”

By this time, Jim Bob had finished the McDonald’s lunch and wiped his greasy hands on the bag. “I really appreciate this, Billy,” said Jim Bob, and for once he actually was sincere. “Well, for old times’ sake, dude”, said Billy, who was never not sincere, “just want you to know that whatever happens, we’re still friends.” When Jim Bob heard this, he felt a little guilty for all the times he thought Billy was a hopeless square, certainly not one of the super cool in-group in their high school class.

The van soon arrived and with some effort Jim Bob hoisted his tightly-encased bulk into the back. He was on his way to prison for a year.

Jim Bob handled prison OK. Always a smooth talker and a manipulator, Jim Bob also knew when to take a low profile and keep his mouth shut. The big shock was his first day, at the orientation for new inmates. He was issued his prison uniform, this time a bright red jumpsuit worn over a white T-shirt. When he went to put it on, he found that the legs and rear end were very tight. He could only pull the front zipper up to a couple of inches below his deep bellybutton. The mass of his fat round belly and the wide roll of flab around his waist blocked any effort to hoist the zipper up higher.  When he said to the trustee inmate who distributed the uniforms that he needed a bigger size, the inmate laughed and told him not to worry, it would fit “soon enough”.

He next was taken to the infirmary, where another trustee weighed and measured him and the other new inmates while they waited for the doctor to check them out.  5’9” Jim Bob was weighed in at 290 lbs. “Boy, you’re a big one!” exclaimed the trustee, a large black dude named Rasheed who looked like nobody gave him any back talk. “But that fat’s gonna disappear soon.”

Jim Bob was curious. “Why?”

Jim Bob’s question was answered by the doctor, a grim-faced elderly man who was standing in the doorway. “You prisoners are not sent here to get fat, or in your case, fatter, on taxpayer’s money. All our prisoners are on strict portion control. 2050 calories a day, just what is needed to keep a sedentary young man healthy.  No seconds ever. It’s a matter of economics. If we let all you prisoners eat whatever you wanted, we’d have to cook three times what we do now, and we’d end up with a lot of fat boys like you, young man. And don’t even think of buying snacks. Those privileges are strictly limited.”

At that point, another inmate went into the physician’s examining room, the door closed, and Rasheed started to talk again. “Yeah, friend, even if you have the money to spend on snacks, they charge $5 for a Hershey bar at the prison store. So, that tight uniform you have on now will be loose on you mighty soon. You won’t believe it, but when I came here five years ago, I weighed 380. Now look at me…I’m lucky if I’m 235. Now, friend, do me a favor and walk over to that table and chair so I can take your blood pressure.”

Jim Bob did as he was asked and Rasheed followed him.  Jim Bob noticed Rasheed checking him out with a look of amazement on his face. Rasheed then said to Jim Bob,  “Man, you are REALLY fat. You got the biggest ass I’ve ever seen—on a white boy, that is.” Jim Bob smiled, grabbed a thick roll of his soft bulging love handle, and turned on the charm. “Yeah, brother, it’s all due to my girlfriend. She likes me big and fat.”   Rasheed was nostalgic as he said,”Yeah, man, that’s how my lady was   too.” He then added, “Well, when you get out of here, there’s gonna be a lot less of you for her to love.”

Everything turned out to be as the doctor and Rasheed had told Jim Bob. Because of prison overcrowding, meal times were brief. The food was well prepared but there wasn’t much of it—just enough for one serving per inmate—never any seconds.  Because of the large number of inmates, chances for a prison job were almost zero. There was a weight room, but inmates had to take their turn—an hour a week max for each inmate. Jim Bob was in a low security area with other non-violent short-timers like himself. All the inmates there kept out of trouble so they could go home as quickly as possible. White, black, latino and Asian, in this part of the prison, they all had only one thought—getting released on schedule. Jim Bob turned on his charm and worked at getting along with everyone and minding his own business. So, Jim Bob spent most of his time watching TV, thinking of Polly, and waiting for visiting day every Sunday..

At first, Polly came every Sunday. She cried, but not enough to mess her makeup. She filled Jim Bob in on the news.  She was so lonely without having Jim Bob and “Little Mr. Jim Bob” around. She missed feeling Jim Bob’s weight on  her while he pumped her. By the way, Brittany, Chester’s girlfriend, had dumped him and moved to Biloxi. Polly felt sorry for Chester, he was devastated. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. If Polly hadn’t been so hot and so rich,  Jim Bob would have gotten bored with her chatter years ago.

Jim Bob noticed over the next few weeks that Polly talked more about Chester. She felt so sorry for Chester since he had been dumped, and a nice guy like him too. At the same time, Jim Bob noticed the look of disappointment on Polly’s face as she noticed how he was losing weight. Rasheed, the big trustee who had talked with Jim Bob that first day, was right. After a month, Jim Bob had lost 20 lbs. on the jail rations and was steadily dropping weight.

It was about this time that Chester began to come to visit Jim Bob with Polly.  Only one visitor at a time was allowed, so Polly ended her conversation with Jim Bob early. She left the room and Chester came in. Jim Bob noticed right away that Chester was getting fatter. When Jim Bob said he was sorry to hear that Brittany had dumped him, Chester replied, “That bitch? I’m glad she’s gone. I got me a much better situation now.” He then stopped abruptly and changed the subject to talk sports, leaving Jim Bob with a vague feeling of uneasiness.

The next weekend, only Chester came to visit. As Jim Bob watched Chester walk into the room, he noticed that Chester seemed to have gotten even bigger and flabbier during the previous week. His tight white polo shirt had ridden up on his blubbery belly, revealing a three-inch-wide loaf of soft pink new belly fat ballooning over his pants as Chester walked forward toward Jim Bob, a big  smile on his face.

“Where’s Polly?” asked Jim Bob.

“Oh”, said Chester, “it’s her  time of the month.  She started to get cramps real bad when we were eating breakfast this morning. She said to tell you she’ll come by real soon.”
                                                                                     
Eating breakfast this morning? Chester getting fatter? Jim Bob felt a wave of suspicion and anger as he abruptly asked, “Chester, are you fucking Polly?’

Chester turned white, and his jowls and chubby cheeks started to quiver. “Ah…ah…ah…, come on, Jim Bob. We’ve been like brothers ever since we were born. Would I do that to you?” Jim Bob’s anger was intense but still not quite strong enough to cause him to lose control. Anyway, he was separated from Chester by a Plexiglas partition. Jim Bob forced himself to stay calm by repeating to himself, “Don’t do anything to screw up your release date.” Soon, the visit with Chester was over

The next week, Jim Bob received a letter from Polly. She was sorry, but having him away was harder than she thought. Her needs were too great for an absentee boyfriend who wouldn’t be released for ten more months. Sorry, Jim Bob.

Another letter arrived for Jim Bob about a month later. Billy, his high school teammate who was now the jail guard back in his hometown, wrote out of the blue, saying that he and the guys on their old team felt bad for Jim Bob and the way he was being treated by Polly and Chester.  Chester had moved in with Polly and was parading around town bragging about what a good life he had now. The letter closed with “Just want you to know, Jim Bob,   that you have some friends back here in your home town and we look forward to getting together with you when you’re released.” That letter made Jim Bob feel a little better, but not much.

For the next ten months, Jim Bob was a model prisoner.  His only thought was to get out of prison on his release date and to head home. After getting the letter from Polly, Jim Bob moped around and lost his appetite. He went to meals because he had to but ate only enough to keep himself going until his release. He just didn’t have his old taste for food any longer.

The old pre-prison Jim Bob had grown to love food, the great feeling being nice and full gave him, and the big round belly and ballooning fat ass which were the result of all the excess calories. The new Jim Bob couldn’t care less. The results soon showed. Jim Bob steadily continued to lose weight. By the time Jim Bob was released, his jumpsuit had grown baggy on him.

Jim Bob’s release date arrived. He stopped by the infirmary for his release physical. He was measured at 5’9”, 170 lbs. Rasheed congratulated him on his release and added, “friend, I still remember how ya were that huge ass white boy who waddled in here a year ago. See, didn’t I tell ya that ya were going to drop some pounds here? Now you look like most of the other white boys around here—no butt at all on ya.”

Rasheed and Jim Bob both laughed, but then Jim Bob turned grim. “Say, man, you’d lose your appetite too if you found out your lady had dumped you and was screwing around with the guy who had been closer than a brother to you!”

Rasheed replied, “Shit, man, now THAT is disrespect!  But, man, get on with your life. The bitch ain’t worth nothin’ now. Find someone else. Don’t ya go getting caught at anything again and have to come back here. Good luck, man.” Jim Bob really was sincere when he shook Rashid’s hand and wished him good luck too. For sure I’m never gonna come back here, Jim Bob thought. As for finding someone else, he’d have to take things as they came along.

Jim Bob stayed with Billy the jail guard and his family for a week until he was able to get a furnished room in the home of an elderly widow lady. Jim Bob got a job at the local Burger King and after a month was appointed night manager. He made an effort to avoid going anywhere that he might run into Polly or his cousin Chester. The pain was still too great, and besides, he didn’t have the money to go to those fancy places now anyway.

A week later on a sunny Saturday afternoon, Jim Bob was with Billy, some of the other members of the old football team, and their families at a picnic at the local lake. The day was filled with fishing, swimming, touch football, card playing, talking, and eating—a most enjoyable country Saturday afternoon.

Jim Bob and Billy were talking when Billy suddenly stopped and pointed over to the parking lot. “Well, lookee who’s here.” Jim Bob recognized Polly’s Mecedes SUV and he grew quiet, his eyes narrowing. Polly stepped out of the driver’s seat, and after a few minutes, a large figure emerged from the passenger side. The man had his back turned to Jim Bob, but then as he turned and noticed  Jim Bob, he started to approach Jim Bob and Billy.  It was Chester, bare-chested and wearing only a huge pair of shorts, ready for a cooling dip in the lake.

Polly stood next to the SUV as Chester slowly waddled forward. Each massive thigh rubbing past the other caused Chester’s enormous hanging belly and sagging, basketball-size man boobs to shift and sway from side to side. While Billy and Jim Bob stared at this spectacle, Billy said softly, “Jim Bob, that’s one thing I didn’t tell you when you were at prison. From the day Chester moved in with Polly, he started piling on the pounds. I heard he has to weigh himself at the Feed and Grain Store now.”

Chester finally reached Jim Bob and Billy, and held out his hand, a broad smile dimpling his round face. “Jim Bob, it’s good to see ya. I jes` wanna let ya know that I hope we can be like brothers again. Let’s put everything in the past, man.”

Jim Bob ignored Chester’s outstretched hand, and Chester barely finished talking before Jim Bob, eyes narrowed into slits in his anger, bowed his head and suddenly rushed forward, punching at Chester, trying to knock him off his feet. 465 lb Chester didn’t move. Jim Bob’s 170 lb body didn’t even make him take a step backwards when Jim Bob slammed into him. Billy was able to pull Jim Bob away before his flailing fists caused any damage to Chester’s fat-padded body.

Chester backed up a few feet and flexed his fat-sheathed biceps, sending ripples on his huge drooping man boobs and the rest of the flab which draped his torso. “Look, small stuff,  I gave ya a chance. Don’t challenge me until ya put some meat on that sorry skinny body of yours and we can go at it man to man. That ain’t gonna happen, though, is it, little cousin? Looks the the big deal former fat boy has turned into a twink!.” At this, he turned his back on Jim Bob and Billy and started to waddle back to Polly, still standing by the SUV. His wide sagging ass wobbled and jiggled in the huge pair of shorts which covered Chester’s wide hips and bulky hindquarters. .By the time he reached the SUV, Polly had entered the driver’s side. Jim Bob glared in anger, Billy still holding him back, as Chester maneuvered himself into the passenger’s side. The SUV seemed to sink about a foot and settled under the impact of Chester’s bulk.

“You’ll get yours, Chester, I promise, you’ll get yours.” Billy was surprised at the depth of the anger in Jim Bob’s voice. “Nobody disrespects me like that and gets away with it.”

“C’mon now, buddy”, said Billy at this point. “Remember you’re on probation and one arrest will send you back to prison.”

Jim Bob suddenly put on his charming smile, the smile which had gotten him so many things all his life, and said to Billy, “yeah, you’re right. That fat shit ain’t worth it.” That’s what he said, while in his mind he began to think of a way to get his revenge.

Over the next eighteen months, Jim Bob kept up his new life. The townspeople were pleased to see how he changed after his stay in prison. He seemed more humble, somehow, and definitely harder working. He frequently worked overtime at Burger King and joined the local gym. He didn’t find any special lady in his life, but like many single guys his age, he had no problems picking up someone at a club or a beer joint on the weekends, so “Little Mr. Jim Bob” was reasonably happy. He avoided Polly and Chester at all costs. One sight of Polly’s Mercedes SUV, the only one in town, and Jim Bob headed the other way.

When not working at the Burger King, Jim Bob took his meals at any of the cafes and small restaurants in town which served good “down home style” southern cooking. The waitresses who served Jim Bob soon began to give him bigger portions as he turned on the charm, smiled his perfect smile, and left bigger tips, too, Managing a Burger King meant lots of free food and people began to notice that Jim Bob was rapidly putting on weight again. Only natural, too…it was expected that 24 year old guys like Jim Bob would be putting on some pounds. It was the way things were for all country boys, not just the ex-football jocks. The more the waitresses noticed the roll developing around Jim Bob’s middle and the way the rest of his handsome body was quickly porking up, the bigger his portions became.

Jim Bob’s landlady did her share to aid Jim Bob’s growth. He was so nice to her (he really was, this was the truly sincere side of Jim Bob that showed itself on occasion), doing yard work and  fixing things around the rooming house, always stopping to chat and pass the time of day when he saw her sitting by herself.  His landlady began to prepare special treats for her handsome young tenant. Jim Bob, on returning from the late shift at Burger King, would see a note on the door of his room in his landlady’s handwriting telling him to check the ice box for a special treat she had made for him. It became a nightly ritual—pans of rich corn pone, mixing bowls full of banana pudding, pecan pies—Jim Bob would take a glass of cold milk or sweet tea, and enjoy his treat even though he had just come from closing the Burger King where he had finished off all the leftovers.

Jim Bob’s lifting at the gym meant that a lot of his new weight was solid muscle, but Jim Bob was also proud when he noticed how his fat pot belly and big fat jutting butt were redeveloping., not to mention how thick his quads, glutes, hips, chest, arms and shoulders were getting.

As Jim Bob rapidly grew bigger, some of his lifting buddies at the gym started kidding him about the “fat-over-muscle look” or “big bellied power lifter look” he was getting, and some of the customers at his Burger King took to joking with Jim Bob about how he was becoming a “walking advertisement” for that great Burger King food.

Jim Bob always laughed, and hoped he sounded sincere when he always drawled in reply, “yep, just enjoyin’ the ‘good life’, I guess” while he patted his fat round belly. The waitresses who looked forward to his good-natured kidding with them when he came in for his meals, and his landlady who now was kept busy letting out his clothes and repairing split seams and popped buttons so that Jim Bob could delay spending money on bigger sizes for a little while, all were happy to see him seeming to enjoy life and eat well. After all, he had paid his debt to society, right?

Inside, though, Jim Bob was still  seething with anger at Chester. But, Jim Bob never let his inner feelings show and turned on the charm whenever and to whomever he needed to.

Jim Bob had the charm turned on full blast the day he showed up at the office of a diet doctor in Nashville. It had been a  long drive from his home town. Jim Bob gave the receptionist all the information needed from new patients. He told her he was going to have to pay cash—didn’t have any medical insurance—and signed in as “John Smith”. In a few minutes, he was shown into the doctor’s office. The doctor checked him out—pulse and blood pressure normal—and than asked him to strip down to his boxer shorts and got him on the scale. It read 325 lbs. The doctor took note of the bright red stretchmarks which covered his new patient’s wide love handles, fat belly, and big round man boobs, how “John Smith”’s pot belly  and love handles erupted over the top of his boxers, and how the thin white cloth of the boxers was pulled skin tight across his wide hips and enormous round fat butt cheeks, making the fly gap wide open so “Little Mr. Jim Bob” was visible, nestled in curly blond pubic hair.

“John Smith” went back to the seat next to the doctor’s desk, his flab jiggling and quivering as he walked, and started talking. “You see, doctor, I’ve got to do something about my weight. I’ve put on over a hundred  twenty-five pounds in the past year and a half and it seems like I just can’t stop eating. My boss has told me that if I don’t start to lose some weight, I’m going to be fired from my job.” “John Smith” just oozed that old Jim Bob sincerity.

The doctor replied, “Well, Mr. Smith, I see what you mean.  We have a lot of young male patients who started out in good shape, like you, and just have ballooned up.  I can see you have a lot of muscle, but your stretchmarks indicate how much fat you’ve put on recently.”

“John Smith” replied, “Yeah, doctor, I’m hungry all the time. I just can’t stick to a diet. I’m desperate, doctor!.” His voice had just the right note of pleading in it.

“Mr. Smith, let’s try some appetite suppressants for now. I’ll give you a prescription for the newest drug on the market. I’ll call in a prescription for a month’s supply to the pharmacy right downstairs.  You should notice a decrease in your appetite right away which should make it easier for you to stick to the diet my receptionist will give you on your way out. Just be careful—these pills are very powerful  stimulants. If you notice any signs of your heart racing, or if you feel faint, call me immediately. But, even though you are much too fat for a young man your age and height, you are basically in great shape and should tolerate the medication well.”

As Jim Bob left, he picked up the diet sheet  scheduled an appointment for a month away, paid his bill in cash, went downstairs to the pharmacy and paid cash for “John Smith”’s  prescription.

Jim Bob had a shit-kickin’ grin on his face as he headed out onto the interstate for the long drive back home from Nashville. He made a stop at a McDonald’s for a nice big lunch, tossing the diet sheet and next-appointment card the diet doctor in Nashville had given him into the trash as he left McDonald’s. On the drive back, he ate the fries and finished off the box of chicken nuggets and half a dozen fried apple pies he had bought as a snack. Still feeling a little hungry, he made a stop at a Stuckey’s and bought a pecan log. Back in his car, he tore into the sweet treat,  rubbed his big belly, savored the taste of the pecan log, and smiled as he thought how well the day had gone.

What luck that the diet doctor had actually prescribed for Jim Bob the very medication he had learned about on the internet. Boy, Jim Bob, reflected, the old “Jim Bob charm” is still there! To think that the doctor would actually fall for that crap and think that Jim Bob would ever want to be a skinny twink! What a jerk the doctor was! Didn’t he realize that there were plenty of good ol’ country boys like Jim Bob who took pride in their big appetites and  the weight which padded their frames with every extra calorie?

When Jim Bob got home, the prescription bottle with the thirty capsules went into the bottom bureau drawer, under some socks, waiting for Jim Bob to need them.

Two more months went by and Jim Bob continued his daily routine—working, lifting, socializing with his buddies and acquaintances around town, and eating big. He put on another twelve   pounds, more fat than muscle, but Jim Bob was pleased.

He was real happy the day his landlady gave him back the latest pair of pants he had asked her to let out for him. Giving him the pants, she drawled, “Land sakes, Jim Bob, I swear you’re fallin’ away to a ton! You’re gonna havta buy size 52 pants in a little while—I can’t let these out any further. But ya carry the weight well, son! And I must say it does my heart good to see the way ya enjoy your food.!” Much to her surprise and pleasure, Jim Bob, that shit-kickin’ grin on his face, gave her a peck on the cheek. Jim Bob grinned because he had come to truly care about the kind old lady, and he also knew that he was at last ready to deal with Chester.

Jim Bob kept his ears open around town when he stopped to talk with any of his old friends. While in the past he automatically tuned out whenever Chester’s name came up, now he discretely listened carefully to what was being said about his cousin and now mortal enemy.

Billy the jail guard and Jim Bob’s other buddies did talk about Chester a lot. They couldn’t help but talk about their classmate who was now living a life of ease, supported by Polly’s money. There was speculation about what it was Polly saw in Chester, especially now that he was so enormously fat. One of the guys who worked at the Feed and Grain Store reported that Chester had last weighed in at 587 lbs, quite a change from the 5’10”, 165 lb wide receiver he had been in high school. Jim Bob’s buddies all had put on some weight  themselves—shit, it was normal, wasn’t it?—but ol’ Chester had really taken it to an extreme. Stories spread around town about the stupendous appetite Chester had developed, and it seemed like every week there was a new story about how much  Chester had eaten—three dozen biscuits with gravy, a dozen helpings of cheese grits. One glance at Chester as he waddled breathlessly from the SUV to whatever food place Polly had driven them to confirmed the stories.

One day, Jim Bob heard that Chester and Polly would often go on a Saturday night to a road house over in the next county where there was good country music and great food. Some Saturdays Chester would go alone if Polly had taken a quick trip to Atlanta or New Orleans for a weekend of shopping. Jim Bob quietly arranged his schedule at work so he always had Saturday nights off.

A month later, on a dark, moonless Saturday evening, Jim Bob was sitting in his car in the road house parking lot, close to where the familiar Mercedes SUV was parked. He was wearing dark clothes. The door to the road house opened and a large shadow emerged and started moving slowly toward the parking lot. This had to be Chester, thought Jim Bob, as he quietly got out of his car and slipped behind the SUV.

As Chester stood next to the driver’s side door, panting from the exertion of waddling out to the SUV, fumbling to reach into the pocket of his skin tight pants for the car keys, he was thinking of the great meal he had just devoured—three double orders of fettuccine Alfredo, a loaf of butter-soaked garlic bread, and five desserts, washed down with an entire bottle of red wine.

He was feeling some discomfort in his chest. Maybe this was what they call heartburn? Too bad the cashier at the restaurant didn’t have any antacids or anything when he paid his bill. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last piece of apple pie topped with cheddar cheese and a double scoop of ice cream—but it looked so-o-o good! He thought how proud and happy Polly would have been to see how much he was able to eat tonight. She just loved it when Chester pushed himself to eat huge, and she always showed her love in the bedroom as soon as they got home.

Still thinking of Polly, Chester was massaging his immense sagging belly and trying to force a belch when a shape rushed at him from out of the darkness and hit him like a ton of bricks. 337 lb Jim Bob hit Chester low, knocking him off balance. The next thing Chester knew, he was flat on his back with a hand clamped tightly over his mouth, feeling a heavy weight sitting on his massive stomach. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he recognized that the weight was Jim Bob.

Chester was gasping for breath and motioned that he wanted to speak. Jim Bob took his hand off Chester’s mouth, but at the same time reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun which he held to Chester’s temple. It was too dark for Chester to realize the gun was only a toy.  Chester managed to gasp, “Jim Bob, cousin, what are ya doin’? Remember, we’ve always been closer than brothers.”

Jim Bob replied quietly, “With a brother like you, I don’t need any enemies. Now you’re going to get what you deserve for disrespecting me.”

Still holding the toy gun to Chester’s head, Jim Bob reached into his jacket pocket and took out a plastic bottle of Coca Cola and the pill bottle.  Deftly uncapping the cola bottle, Jim Bob opened the pill bottle, poured the capsules into his hand, and put them up to Chester’s mouth. “Okay, ‘brother’, open wide and swallow”. Chester, still breathing heavily and actually gasping for breath—the most exercise he had gotten during the past three years was lifting his food-laden fork to his mouth as often as possible and then lying on his back in bed every night while Polly rode him—swallowed the capsules and then took a gulp of the cola from the bottle Jim Bob shoved up against his fat lips.

Jim Bob’s final words to Chester were, “Now, Chester, into the car and relax. Just sit there for a few minutes and everything will be just fine.” Jim Bob hoped his mock sincerity was believable to the huge man struggling to his feet next to him, still gasping heavily from the combined effects of his heavy meal, the bottle of wine, and the shock at what had just happened.

Chester managed to open the car door and back his bulk into the driver’s seat of the SUV, making the vehicle settle under his tonnage.  He sat there, still trying to catch his breath and grasp what had just take place. Was it a dream or what? If only Polly was there! She’d take him to get something to eat and everything would be jes’ fine again! Chester felt his heart racing as he grew drowsy. That was it! Maybe he jes’ needed a little nap! That would make things better! He closed his eyes….

Jim Bob waited a few minutes, checked around the SUV to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind, went back to his car, got inside, and sat there quietly for about ten minutes more. He was happy that his luck was holding. No one had left the road house during the time he had confronted Chester.

Five minutes more passed and Jim Bob started his car and drove out of the parking lot. Not a sound came from the huge man sitting in the SUV.

On his way home, Jim Bob stopped at a Denny’s and ordered a complete fried chicken  meal, with a side of a 6-egg ham omelet, a double order of hotcakes, and a double order of cheese grits.  After he finished eating, he went to the men’s room and noted with pleasure how the bulk of his big belly, huge round buttocks,  and wide meaty hips practically filled the stall. After relieving himself, he took the empty pill bottle from his jacket pocket, and peeled off the label, which got flushed down the toilet. The now-unlabeled pill bottle went into the trash. Jim Bob belched contentedly as he got into his car and headed home. The toy gun soon went back into the toy chest of his landlady’s young great-grandson..

Two days later, Jim Bob scanned the local newspaper and noticed a story at the bottom of page one. “Local Football Hero Found Dead”. He read further, “Chester Cleaver, 26, was found dead early yesterday morning in his SUV parked at the parking lot of a well-known roadhouse on Route 28. Cause of death is suspected to be a massive heart attack.  According to waitresses at the roadhouse, Mr. Cleaver had eaten a huge meal there, as was his habit. He seemed in good spirits as he left the establishment about 10 p.m., although he mentioned to the cashier that he had some discomfort in his chest area. The waitresses and cashier reported that he was breathing heavily as he left the roadhouse. Local sports fans will remember Mr. Cleaver as the star wide receiver on our local high school team seven years ago  The police report lists Mr. Cleaver’s death as cardiac arrest brought about by his weight, reported to be 587 lbs, and the enormous meal he had just consumed. No autopsy is planned.”

Chester’s funeral was held two weeks later. Jim Bob was there and sure seemed sad. For appearances sake, he even managed to squeeze into his good suit—his landlady had to let out his dress pants as far as possible in the waist and rear so he could shoehorn his big round ass into them while his belly ballooned over the waistband–and he wore a dark tie. At the grave yard, Jim Bob stood with his head bowed as the prayers were being said. He was staring down at the big round bulge his pot belly made in his tight white dress shirt (his suit jacket was so tight he couldn’t button it, leaving the round mass of his fat pot belly proudly on display)  and forcing himself not to betray any sign of the broad smile he felt inside. The old Jim Bob phony sincerity was there in full force.

As the prayers continued and Jim Bob stood with his head bowed and eyes closed, he noticed the familiar fragrance of an expensive perfume. Head still bowed, he opened his eyes and noticed an expensive black silk dress on the female figure which had appeared next to him.  A gloved hand reached over, and unseen by the other mourners, gave Jim Bob’s big soft fat butt cheek a hard squeeze. Polly!

Jim Bob heard Polly softly whisper, “I don’t know what it was that caused me to dump you, Jim Bob. All I know is that I’ve missed you for a long time, sugar. Why don’t we meet back at my place this evening?”

Jim Bob said nothing. He struggled even harder to control the smile  he felt inside as he continued to pretend to pray. His stomach rumbled with hunger while “little Mr. Jim Bob” stiffened to attention. Jim Bob was already thinking of his future…..

Girls Night-Part 9

*edit created by @strictlyncisconfessions*

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9

Pairing: MoC!Dean x Reader

Warnings: fluff, mention of sex (no details this time)

Word Count:1928

A/N: Just a heads up, this has not been beta’d and I’m finishing it at like 1:10 am-I’ll go back through tomorrow and fix any errors. Outside of that, I’ve got a nice little surprise(?) in here! Did you have a feeling? Send me your feedback!!!

Keep reading

Whole lotta hugging

Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2290
Warnings: Panic Attack, Kinda Angst?, Fluff, Implied sex? idk, bad writing?
A/N - It’s Dean’s birthday, so I quickly wrote this up. This is also connected to Scariest Man and Exhausted.

Originally posted by personal-interest-in-you

You didn’t know why, but you were crying. And it wasn’t the cute, a few tears, beautiful crying. No, it was the ugly, loud sobbing that almost tore through the walls of the bunker. Your legs had given out, your head was pounding and you wanted to do nothing but carry on with your task, but you couldn’t, not today. Of course, it had to be today of all days that you couldn’t do it.

Keep reading

Lovers Suite

“What?!” Tyler exclaimed through his phone. Josh sat across from the singer, his legs crossed and eyes glued to the brunette. Tyler stood up from his seat and paced back and forth, running his fingers through his chocolate brown hair frustratedly. Closing his eyes, he hung up and pressed both of his middle fingers against the temples of his head, massaging gently.

“W-what happened, Ty?” Joshua spoke up softly, his voice broke a bit. He was worried slightly, Tyler never got angry, especially at Mark. The singer sat back down next to his band mate, handing over his phone that glowed softly.

“Mark sent me this text,” Looking down at Tyler’s iPhone, he read the texts the two exchanged.
MARK: Hey dude, sorry this is so last minute but the hotel called me and they screwed up on your rooms. Instead the one room with two beds they booked a room with a king sized bed
YOU: Can you call them back and exchange it or whatever so we can get the two beds?
MARK: No dude, the hotels completely booked, there’s some convention going on tomorrow and everyone took everything.

Clearing his throat, Josh looked up to his best friend and forced a smile. “I tried to convince Mark to get us another hotel over the phone just now, he said all the hotels in this area are all booked as well,” Tyler sighed.

“We’re cuddling tonight?” Josh said, nudging the side of his band mate.

“Shut up dude,” Tyler snapped and turned his shoulder over to him. The two sat in silence together, the loud chatter around them grew as more people poured into the lobby of the hotel. After a few minutes with no words exchanged between the two, the singer rested his hand on Josh’s knee and looked over at him. “Well we might as well check in at least,”. Cracking a smile, the pink haired male nodded and stood up with his best friend. As the band mates approached a receptionist, Tyler cleared his throat and forced a smile. “Uhm- we have a room under the name Joseph,”

After a few moments of typing away at her keyboard the receptionist’s eyes lit up, “Aha,” she exclaimed and looked back up at the two, grinning widely. “The lovers suite, yes it’s ready for you two. Here’s your key, if you need any assistance to your room just let me know,”

Snatching the key card from her grip, Tyler scoffed, mumbling an audible “thank you” before taking off to the elevator.

“Ty, wait,” Josh exclaimed, slightly jogging after him. The singer nearly let the doors close in on his friend, but guilt draped over him and he quickly shoved his arm between the closing doors, causing them to open back up. “Dude,” the drummer huffed, looking over at the brunette sternly. “Come on, they just call it that because it has a big bed,”

“Lovers. Suite,” Tyler put emphasis on the T, gritting his teeth and pressing the Floor 8 button. Holding onto the two suitcases, Josh leaned against one of the walls of the elevator and closed his eyes. He was frustrated, not because he had to share beds with Tyler or because Tyler was upset. It was because he wanted the lovers suite. The drummer requested for a lovers suite, he wanted some intimacy with his best friend. And, of course, he knew it was a terrible idea.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened and Tyler swiftly walked out and towards the direction of their room. “Tyler…” Josh sighed and followed after him, practically dragging his feet. “Come on Tyler, I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the whole bed to yourself,” As the singer approached their room, he glanced back over to his best friend and sighed heavily. He wanted this too, but he was so conflicted with emotions and his own personal relationship that all of his feelings just blended together forming angst and frustration. Before sliding the card to unlock the door, his phone buzzed. Ignoring it, Tyler swung the door open and headed straight to the bed.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” the brunette sighed and looked over at Josh as he walked into the room. “I’m just tired…. And hungry,” a small smile cracked on his face as he looked around the room curiously. His phone buzzed again, this time he decided to pull it out of his pocket and check who was texting him.

“Jenna texting you,” The drummer asked, jumping onto the bed next to his bandmate.

“Yeah, she wanted to know if we got to the hotel,”

“Are you two like… Official now,” That question was so big to Tyler. He wasn’t sure how he could answer it. Her name did have a heart emoji next to it, but Josh’s had five. Closing his eyes, he let out a heavy sigh and shook his head slightly.

“I don’t think she’s ready for so much responsibility,” the singer replied, locking his phone before placing it down on the bedside table. Josh kept his eyes locked onto his friend, he was surprised with the response he got.

“Oh,” He muttered and nodded slightly. “So, wanna get some food or maybe watch a film or something,” the pink haired male asked. The brunette nodded with a small smile. Josh sprung off of the bed and picked up the telephone next to their bed. “Whatcha want,” he hummed and over looked the menu that was hidden under the lamp.

“You,” Tyler bravely said, crawling on the bed towards his bandmate. Nearly hanging up the phone, Josh tried to laugh it off but was cut off by Tyler hugging his waist tightly. “Just kidding, I want a grilled cheese and French fries, please,”. Looking up at the drummer, the brunette smiled sheepishly and listened to his best friend order food for the two.

Once Josh hung up, he jumped back onto the bed and turned the TV on. It didn’t have many channels, HBO, the local news channel that seemed like it had a five hundred dollar budget, and infomercials. “Are we gonna watch ‘Pretty In Pink’, 'Get Abs Now!’, 'Look Twenty Years Younger!’, or the weather,” he asked, shifting around on the lumpy bed.

“Well, you have abs, I don’t want to look seven again, and I think we know the weather right now,” Tyler couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of him and his best friend touring as seven year old kids.

“Pretty In Pink it is,” he chuckled and flipped through the channels until it went back onto the 80’s romcom. Tyler quickly grew silent as he was drawn into the film. He didn’t like talking about it much, but he totally had a weak spot for romance films. Something about them just enchanted him, he always longed to find his soulmate. Something about love, he never imagined his life being very romantic, to him, he believed those things only ever happened in movies. As the two gradually got closer in bed, Josh found himself nervously wrapping his arm around the other. Tyler knew exactly what the drummer was doing, and instinctively snuggled his head on top of his chest carefully.

The band mates practically shot up and out of bed when room service knocked on the door loudly. Josh quickly gathered himself together, giving the brunette a reassuring smile, “Food,”. Opening the door, a cart was pushed in followed by a young male in a uniform. Watching the boy carefully, Tyler sat up from the bed and flattened out the sheets underneath him.

Once the boy left, the pink haired male took the plates of food over to the bed and chuckled quietly. “I don’t think we’re supposed to eat on the bed, but they did mess up on our room so I mean this is our way of retaliation,”. Smirking widely, the singer picked up a French fry and popped it into his mouth.

“Living on the edge, huh,” he said teasingly, chewing on the undercooked fry. “This food is terrible,” Tyler laughed and continued to eat.

“I heard girls like the bad boys, so I strive to be the baddest in the streets,” Josh giggled. Closing his eyes, he took a bite out of the hamburger he ordered and proceeded to shake his head. “Oh my gosh,” he mumbled with a mouth full of burnt hamburger patty. “This food really IS terrible,”

The two couldn’t finish their food, after about five minutes of eating they slowly lost their appetites because of how horribly cooked their dinner was. After putting the plates back on the dining table, Josh started to change out of his clothes. Slipping off his pants, he faced away from Tyler although he was almost completely positive that the singer was so involved in the movie that he didn’t even notice that the drummer was changing.

Eyes glued to the television, Tyler watched the movie intently. He was so sucked into the plot that he hardly noticed Josh shifting about. That was until he heard his belt buckle being fumbled about. Curiosity took over and his gaze shifted over to the male that faced away from him. His cheeks slowly grew a dark shade of pink when he saw Josh’s briefs. “Hey Ty,” the drummer hummed, pulling his shirt over his head before dropping it onto the floor.

“Y-yeah man,” the singer practically choked on his own tongue. He’s seen Josh shirtless before, way too many times actually. But, something about this felt different. More intimate almost.

“Is it okay if I sleep in my briefs,” he asked, turning around to find Tyler staring him down.

“Totally dude, I sleep in my boxers too so it’s no biggie,” he quickly tried to dismiss Josh, eyes shooting straight up to his bandmate’s face. It was difficult. The brunette wanted to look at Josh’s body. He wanted to admire all of him, but he wasn’t going to risk anything. “I guess I should change too huh,” Chuckling nervously, Tyler slipped out of his shirt quickly.

Josh knew his friend was flustered. Nothing screamed 'I’m nervous’ like a red face and airy laughter. Nodding to his bandmate, he crawled back into the bed and spectated the nervous boy next to him. “Are you sleepy,” he whispered to Tyler.

Struggling to get his skinny jeans off, the brunette nodded. Grunting once he was free from the tight jeans, he sighed in relief before quickly darting his legs under the blankets. He was so unsure if Josh was looking over at him or not, Tyler knew he had to act normal but it was so difficult for him when he was in the same bed with his bandmate and he knew they were both almost naked. “We should get some sleep,” he finally spoke up, turning on his side so his back faced towards the male beside him.

“O..kay…” Josh muttered, turning off the light on the bedside table and then the TV that was playing the credits for the 80s flick. He wasn’t too sure on what happened with Tyler or how his mood went from happy to serious. Pulling the covers over him, Josh faced towards his friend, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark room. “Good night Tyler,” he hummed.

“Night,”

That was it. No stories. No silly jokes told between the two. Just silence. The drummer slowly scooted himself closer to Tyler until his chest pressed against the other’s back. “Sorry,” he whispered softly, “I’m cold,”. The brunette just nodded softly. He couldn’t speak, feeling Josh’s skin against his was sending electricity up and down his back and through his fingertips and toes. Pushing back against his bandmate he sighed and hoped to fall asleep fast.

Just as he was drifting off, he heard Josh move around slightly, opening his eyes, Tyler waited for the pink haired male to stop moving. But, before he could hear Joshua contain himself, he felt something warm against his neck. Before he could realize what was happening, Josh’s hand started to run up and down Tyler’s side.

“What he HELL man,” Tyler jerked away, sitting up quickly and away from his friend. “What are you doing,” he exclaimed, eyes adjusting to the dim room.

Josh sat up slowly and covered his face in embarrassment. “Dude I’m so… So sorry,” his voice cracked slightly. The drummer wasn’t much of a crying type, he kept most emotions in to himself. But he was terrified.

“Sorry,” Tyler shook his head and pushed Josh slightly, “You kiss my NECK and think an apology is going to fix this,” The singer was more than flustered, the only thing he thought to do was to freak out.

“I messed up,” the shorter male brought his knees up to his chest and shook his head rhythmically. “I planned all of this… The room, everything,”. Silence once again grew between the two. Tyler was in shock. He couldn’t believe that his best friend set this all up. At this point, he started to feel a little bad. He knew Josh was lonely, but he never considered him to be THAT lonely.

“You planned to sleep in the same bed as me, why dude,”

“Because,” Josh fought back tears, his wobbly voice didn’t put up very well. Hearing how distraught his friend was, the brunette slowly started to calm down. “I think I might love you Tyler,”.

Those words hit harder than anything. Disbelief washed over him when he tried to comprehend it all. Tyler didn’t believe anyone could love him. He always thought to be destined to the single and lonely life. “Dammit Tyler,” Josh sniffled, raising his voice. “At least tell me you don’t love me, don’t just let me pour out my heart and not even give me an answer,”.

“Jishwa,” The singer whispered softly. He slowly started to shift over to the drummer next to him. “Jish,” he whispered again. Josh grew silent, tears streamed down his cheeks as he listened to Tyler coo. “Cmon my fren, spooky baby, talk to me,”

“Talk to you about what,” he replied, sniffling and wiping his tears away quickly. “The fact that I ruined all of this, dammit just tell me how you feel,”

“You’re my best friend, my number one,” the singer ran his thumb across his bandmate’s cheek softly, wiping away warm tears that continued to fall down. “I don’t think you ruined this, I think I ruined this,” Smiling softly, Tyler started to see Josh’s face as his eyes continued to adjust. “I ruined your plans, but can I make it up to you,” he hummed and continued moving closer until he was sitting on Josh’s lap. His tears quickly ceased, looking up at the boy who carefully sat in his lap.

“How do you make up my-” before the pink haired male could finish his sentence, he was interrupted. Tyler pressed his lips softly against his bandmate’s. It was odd at first, the singer wasn’t expecting Josh’s lips to be so soft, but he quickly grew accustomed to it. The first kiss was innocent, like two kids having their first kiss. Pulling away, the brunette giggled softly.

“We kissed,” he hummed, scanning his best friend’s face in the dark. “We actually kissed,”

“Can I kiss you,” Josh whispered, his hands cupped Tyler’s face as his thumbs slowly caressed his cheeks.

“You don’t need to ask me,” he replied, tilting his head towards Josh once more.

Nervously, Josh pushed his lips against the singer’s. As their gentle pecks quickly warmed up, the drummer got more comfortable. Their tongues greeted each other, touching softly before dancing together rhythmically. Pulling away, Tyler couldn’t help but smile. Still in the lap of his bandmate, he looked up at Josh and spoke up. “So we’re getting the lovers suite from now on, right,”

“Of course Ty,” he hummed, kissing the top of the brunette’s head. “But next time we’re going to a hotel with good food and TV channels,” Josh chuckled, wrapping his arms around Tyler’s waist.

Overreact (M.E)

|based on the prompt: Hey could you do a Matt imagine were you make a vine together And it goes viral and you can think of the rest. Thanks😊

|•1.6k words - I couldn’t think of a vine so I kinda changed it so sorry if it’s bad lol. PLEASE REQUEST!•My masterlist can be found in my description•|


“Friendship goals,” Matt grins at his camera before pointing it down to face the plate of miscellaneous I had made him. “When you get to your best friends house and you find a plate of food waiting for you, that’s when you know that you have the bestest best friend ever.”

“That didn’t make any sense?” I laugh. Matt looks over at me and smiles, rolling his wrist so I was in the shot.

“My best friend is better than yours! I LOVE YOU, Y/N!”

Yes, Matthew Espinosa is my best friend. We’re not the cheesy best friends who have known each other since birth and live next door to each other and our parents end up arranging our marriage when we’re just 16. Nope, I met Matt when I was 12 on MySpace - yeah, fucking retro MySpace - and we had an argument over which breed of dog is cuter.

It’s safe to say that I won the argument by threatening the young lad with my dog, a large German Shepard.

Matt and I live about an hour away from each other but he often makes the trip out here to see me. I once road tripped down to where Matt lives with my friends and we met up with him and some of his friends. It was a dramatic trip.

I don’t like to talk about it.

“Thanks, Matty boy.” I smile and lean up against the kitchen counter and I watch him post the vine onto his account with a bright smile on his face. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been in one of your Vines,”

“And it’s going to go viral,” Matt smugs, locking his phone and setting it on the table. “But that was obvious.”

“Don’t shove your fame in my face, Matthew Lee, you know I don’t care for that.”

“No, I was going to say because you’re so beautiful but clearly you don’t care about that.” He rolls his eyes back jokingly. I raise my eyebrow at him.

“I’m trying to decipher if that’s a compliment or not.”

“Neither can I.” He winks, picking up the fork and digging in to the eggy bread and toasted tomatoes - something I made that Matt seemed to take an incredible liking to. “Why’d you make me food, anyway?”

“We went grocery shopping last night and I know what you’re like when you come over, so instead of you snacking and eating everything I decided to make you a proper, hearty meal.”

“I swear to God, I will wife you up just for this food every day.” That is the most Matthew thing I have ever heard. You can just tell he’s a food pig, can’t you?

“It’s just bread dipped in egg and fried?”

“You make it taste better.”

“How the hell do I do that?” All I did was crack an egg in a frying pan and drop a slice of bread in there. Do I have magic hands or something?

“Because it was made with love and consideration.” Matthew cheeses. He smiles that big ol’ grin at me and shovels another forkful of bread into his mouth.

I can’t help but smile at his appreciation. If I did this for anyone else, I’d get an eye roll and a “what the hell do you want now” speech. Everything is different with Matt. My whole life turned upside down when we became friends. I suddenly started feeing appreciated, loved and wanted. Matt is always so thankful for anything I do for him, unlike any of my other friends, he always makes sure to thank me.

“I’d never do this for any of my other friends so you better consider yourself bloody lucky.”

His eyebrows raise and a cocky smile appears. “I called it.”

“Called what?” I ask, confused.

“You have a crush on me.”

If I was eating or drinking, I would have choked to death by now.

“Where did you get this information from, Matthew?” I splutter and cover my neck with my hand, acting as if it were a shield from showing any signs of weakness.

“I can see it in your eyes, Y/N. You fancy the pants off of me.” Matt smirks with a mouthful of food - attractive.

I pour myself a drink of apple juice from the fridge and take a sip of it. “Well, someone’s ego definitely grew on tour.”

“Don’t try to deny it, doll.” He made sure to chew and swallow his food before he spoke next. “You’ve always had a crush on me but you never wanted to tell me about it because you were scared that it would ruin our friendship.”

He seems so sure of this little accusation, but I really don’t know why. Like, where the hell did he think up this? I can’t even imagine what’s going on through his head right now.

“Did my food make you delusional or…”

“Y/N, don’t change the subject.” He says sharply and drops his fork onto the China plate in a strop. “Just admit it, you do have a crush on me!”

I roll my eyes and take a step over to the dinner table. “Matthew, I do not have a crush on you.”

“Yes you do.”

“I really don’t.”

“So,” He drags. I take a real, long look at his face. His cheeks were beginning to burn red. Wait… Does Matt have a crush on me? “If I asked you out on a date, you would say yes?”

That’s my question answered.

With a long sigh, I stare up at the ceiling and shake my head. “I would say no, because I have a boyfriend.”

Matthew stares at me in shock. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. I raise my eyebrows at him and just watch him until he actually manages to speak to me without panicking and going silent. “Wait, w…what?”

“You didn’t know?” Matt shakes his head. “I’ve been with Adam for 6 months now, Matt.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me that, Y/N? I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me? What the fuck is that about?!” He shouts at me and stands up from his chair. He practically slams his hands down onto the wood table and glares at me.

And I can’t help but shout and glare back. “Of course I told you!”

“When the fuck did you tell me then, Y/N!” His entire face goes red, and this time, it’s not because he’s nervous. “Because I remember you telling me shit all about this ‘Adam’ guy!”

“We were on the phone whilst you were on tour and you were in your hotel room. I told you about a date I went on - coincidentally with Adam - and you just cut me off and started talking about some hot girl you saw at dinner!” I wave my arm around in an expression of my annoyance, but it doesn’t really do much justice to the tone of my voice. “Of course, it’s typical Matthew to cut off whatever I say, isn’t it?”

“Hey, don’t pin this on me, this is your fault.”

I can feel myself growing angrier and angrier by the second. He’s such an ignorant asshole who only cares about himself half of the time.

“Oh fucking wow. Now this, this is typical Matt.”

“Why are you being such a bitch?Seriously what is your problem today?” He half laughs, half sighs. “Are you on your period or did you have a petty argument with your fucking boyfriend?”

I’ve had enough. I love Matthew to death, of course I do, he is my best friend, but recently, he’s turned into an asshole who has no respect. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if it was the 'surprise’ of me having a boyfriend or if was being away on tour for so long of if it’s the people he’s hanging out with now. All I know is that he’s not the same Matt he was last week.

“Leave, Matt.”

“Excuse me?” Within seconds, his red face whitens and pales to the point where he looks sick.

I walk away from the kitchen table and back to the counter, leaning against it so I wasn’t facing him. “Get out of my house, I don’t want you here.”

“You can’t just make me leave, Y/N.”

“You’re in my fucking house, I’ll have you know, and I will call the fucking cops if you don’t leave.”

“Are you being serious right now?” I nod. I refuse to speak to him after the way I was treated. “I don’t know what happened in the past few weeks that made you resent me so much, but whatever I did, I’m really sorry, Y/N. I respect you and your choices, no matter how I react.” He picks up his phone and walks towards the kitchen door. “I do love you because you’re my best friend. If you don’t want to be associated with me anymore, that’s fine, it’s completely your decision and I will respect that. I just… I want you to know that lately, I’ve been having these thoughts about you, and me, being together and I just wanted to see how you felt about it.” Matthew bites his lip and looks down at the floor.

All I do is stay silent.

“Well, I guess that you’re not going to talk to me anymore but just know that I’ll always be here for you. Also know that I have a huge fucking crush on you and I’m really happy for you and Adam - he’s a damn lucky man.”

And with that, he walks out without a second look. Leaving me to feel like absolute shit.

ALLURE | Eric x Reader - Part 3

Originally posted by sparklemichele

A/N: This is part 3. You can find the other parts here.


Eric set you down in front of the entrance to one of the Dauntless bars. The club scene and night life had dwindled down by that time of night, so it was relatively empty. With a hand on the small of your back, Eric lead you to one of the booths near the back. “Sit,” he commanded. You did so without hesitation. As much as you kind of liked what happened the last time you saw each other, you were still generally sore. Once he saw you were settled, he walked towards the bar.

Why couldn’t he just bring me here like a normal person, instead of carrying me over his shoulder…

He returned shortly with a bowl of chips and a smaller bowl of salsa. “Food will be here shortly. I didn’t know what you wanted so I just ordered two Jucy Lucy’s.”

“That sounds perfect, thank you.”

Eric ate some chips without saying a word. You cleared your throat and he looked up at you, waiting for you to say what was on your mind.

“What uh… what was that back there?”

He looked at you with that smug grin again. “Well, since I missed my breakfast buddy at dinner, I assumed she was hungry when I saw her breaking and entering into the cafeteria at 3 in the morning.”

The bartender interrupted what you were about to say next. He placed a small glass of scotch next to Eric, a glass of Coke next to you, and two waters for each of you. “Burgers will be out shortly,” he muttered.

You took a long pull on your Coke…until you realized it wasn’t just Coke. Eric chuckled as you went for the water. “Rum and Coke,” he explained.

“Oh,” was all you could manage to let out. You drank it a little more slowly. You didn’t want Eric to think differently of you for not drinking the drink that he had gotten for you. You continued to munch on the chips and salsa while he sat there silently, eyes glued to you.

Keep reading

My recovery from bulimia, BED, and orthorexia, and how I restored my metabolism.

Guys I’m probably 99.9% recovered. I haven’t purged in ages; I don’t even remember the last time it happened. I don’t binge anymore. I rarely get the urge to binge and when I do it usually goes away after a snack or two. The amount of control I have over my actions is amazing. I’ve learned to love my body even on the harder days. I’ve come so far since the days of bingeing from morning to night several times a week and purging constantly. Before when I got the urge to binge it was one of two options: there’s no holding me back, eat everything terrible; or, try to curb the craving with something healthy or something small that’s unhealthy and then I’d still wind up bingeing uncontrollably on everything imaginable.

I exercise because I love it, not to compensate for eating. I made that change last spring. I stopped counting all the calories I burned in a workout and I learned how to take rest days. I exercised because I wanted to feel good, and it worked. It was no longer a punishment. And don’t get me wrong, it was really fucking hard. There were constantly numbers in my head. “If I ran Xkm for X amount of time I would burn X calories. And doing hiit training for X amount of time would burn roughly X calories.” Those were the things I had to convince myself to block out. And over time it got easier. I did get to the point where I could exercise and think about it the next day and realize “hey! I didn’t care about any numbers and I felt great.” The first time that happened I felt pure happiness. Now I run and measure time and kms because I like to compete with myself and see myself improve. And when I run different routes I use apps to tell me how far I went and guess what? My calories burned also comes up. And guess what else? I really don’t give a shit what it says. It’s amazing.

My next step after that was giving up calorie counting. It was terrifying and uncomfortable and difficult. But the feeling I got when I figured out how to exercise without disordered behaviour inspired me. I wanted to be able to eat normally too. And at this point I was so god damn sick of my disorder, I was willing to try anything. I was discouraged so easily but I had this tiny speck of confidence shining through from giving up counting the calories I burned, that allowed me to eventually give up counting the calories I ate. It took me a few weeks of trying before I could actually eat something without knowing the exact caloric content of it. I eventually started ball parking it. “Breakfast was roughly X cals, snacks were X cals…” I was still so afraid of going over a maximum number. At this point I was still bingeing all the time. It wasn’t my worst though; I found that exercising for pleasure vs punishment actually brought a certain calmness to me which helped make my binges less crazy. I was purging as well but not as much. I figured that I already had a foot in the door with recovery so I decided to take a leap and force myself, no matter how hard it was, that I was going to stop purging.

It was awful. I had felt so sick after bingeing. I had felt so disgusted with myself. I wanted to hide away and give up everything. I quit purging. I promised myself. And there was nothing I could do to compensate for this terribly upset stomach and this bloating that was so bad I looked 6 months pregnant. I was gaining weight. I HATED it. I wanted to purge so bad, but I kept my promise because I wanted to recover. “If this is part of recovery I don’t want to take steps backwards and have to endure it again.”

When you quit purging and continue to binge, it’s hell. It really is. But I know that I never would’ve been able to quit bingeing if I didn’t stop purging first.

After a month or so of no purging, I began to trust myself more. And I trusted more in the recovery process. It got easier to stop counting calories. It got easier to stop guessing at calories. And for me, that was the fun part. Going out for dinner and not sticking to my safe garden salad with dressing on the side. I ate veggie burgers (vegetarian here btw haha), with loads of French fries, pasta, garlic bread with cheese, cupcakes, brownies, waffles, chocolate chip pancakes (real ones, not just bananas and eggs), real syrup, onion rings, sushi, bagels, mayonnaise, pizza, donuts, thick slices of bread, quesadillas… I had a slice of cheesecake at midnight with my best friend just because. Of course this wasn’t just a one and done type situation. Most of the times I ate this type of food it would lead to a binge. And then it was super hard not to purge. And that’s half the reason I was so afraid to eat these foods in the first place (the other half being that the calories stressed me out and I would feel obligated to compensate through exercise or purging). These were my fear foods. Now they’re my fun foods. They’re my favourites that I couldn’t eat for years and it was the best feeling eating them again for the first time without counting the calories with each bite. Now I can eat them whenever without worrying a bit. It is a process, but you can’t give up. It’s ridiculously hard for a good chunk of time but living with your eating disorder for the rest of your life will be hell. Recovery is SO worth it.

Eventually my binges stopped. It was right around the time where I convinced myself that I’m sexy as hell, I’ve got a rockin bod, and I can (clearly), face and conquer any struggle that’s put in my way. A year ago I never would’ve imagined loving myself at my weight then, let alone adding another 5-10lbs on to that. (Side note: I also don’t weigh myself anymore. I quit that around the same time as I quit counting calories burned in exercise. It took a lot of disappointment out of my day!) I don’t know how much I weigh now and I still don’t intend to get on the scale. I think it would still trigger me and to me that’s just pointless. And besides, I love myself right now, why would I want to change that because of a meaningless number a machine threw at me!?

How do you learn to love yourself? For me it was only allowing myself to focus on the good. If I thought I looked good I would say “damn girl,” and walk away from the mirror before my mind had time to wander to my “imperfections.” If I found myself looking at a bit of extra chub, I would stop myself. If I couldn’t think of anything good to replace it with, I would simply walk away from the mirror and focus on something else like plans with friends or watching a movie. What I’m getting at here is that you CANNOT LET YOUR NEGATIVE THOUGHTS ABOUT YOURSELF SURFACE. These are thoughts that are healthy to ignore when you’re learning to love yourself. Fester in your cheeky, contagious smile, and how your curves are beautiful and sexy, and the brightness in your eyes when you’re happy and not hurting all the time. Love your body for what it is and what it can do, not what it isn’t and what you can’t do. You are you for a reason. Don’t apologize for it. Be unique. Be the change and liveliness and everything else you’ve been searching for.

I truly love myself. And that’s why I stopped bingeing.

Recently, I’ve lost a bit of weight. No surprise there since I stopped bingeing and I still love running and training. (Side note: I did not get on the scale, it was just an observation I could see in my stomach and legs, and notice in the way my clothes were fitting). I decided to ball park my calories for a few days. Not because I wanted to restrict, but because I was curious as to why I was losing weight, even when I wasn’t exercising that often. Was I under eating without realizing it? Nope. I easily eat 2000 calories a day. It was my metabolism being restored. My mind fully trusts itself with the decisions I make about food, and now my body does too. It was an unexpected surprise that put a smile on my face when I made that realization. Listening to hunger cues is so important. If you’re hungry at 11pm, eat. If you’re full and still have half a plate of food left, stop. If you get hungry an hour later, eat your leftovers, or a snack, despite the fact that you just had dinner. There are so many rules about eating. Ignore them all and listen to yourself. Your body will thank you for it, I promise.

And that’s pretty much my recovery. I didn’t get into details of my eating disorder because I felt it wasn’t necessary. The hell I went through isn’t important to anyone but me, because it made me a stronger person who is aware of the dangers of eating disorders, and who understands the difficulty and importance of recovery. Everyone else who had or has an eating disorder understands the hell that it is for themselves. There’s no need to compare my struggles with theirs. What is important though is that this is a real recovery story. And I understand completely that recovery isn’t black and white or one size fits all. If anything, I hope that my story helps inspire someone else to recover. I hope you understand that struggles and relapse in recovery are normal, but if you keep pushing through, you CAN do it. And when you realize that you recovered, it’s the most freeing feeling in the world.

Disclaimer: I saw a doctor and therapist through my recovery. I told very few people outside of that about my eating disorder and the few I told were quite helpful. The book brain over binge was pretty much useless to me. It was a quick fix a few years back that caused an overwhelming relapse. The book intuitive eating is spot on and a great tool to use in recovery. I recovered on my own terms. I never did inpatient and was never forced to eat anything or reach a certain amount of calories per day. Everyone’s situation is different and what works for me might not work for you and vice versa. My main message here is to never give up in recovery. Once you decide to recover, only you will know what is right for you. You can beat this.

Xoxoxoxo

This is my story anonymously, but almost everyone I’m tagging follows my personal blog. I don’t have many followers on here so please help share my story @aubernutter @fitnika @blondepancake @e-leri @oatsnjen @thefitally

Simple Man

Pairing: Dean x Reader
Challenge: Written for @deanwinchester-af‘s 25 Song Challenge - My song was “Simple Man” covered by Jensen Ackles
Summary: (From Dean’s POV) - Mary Winchester gave some advice to Dean when he was three years old- advice that stuck with him for the rest of his life. Through hunting, through falling in love, through grief… that advice was always there for him.
Reader Gender: Female
Word Count: 4,139
Tags: Dean’s POV, death, angst, fluff, canon-level violence
Gif credits: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)
A/N: I love love love this cover by Jensen. I’m so happy to have had the chance to write this. Let me know what you think!
Excerpt:

“Dean,” You interrupted smoothly. “I know what I got myself into when I started this life.  I know how it’s going to end.  Promise me you’re not going to blame yourself.”

Dean analyzed you carefully. In a brazen move, he reached up to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.  “It’s what I do,” He said softly. “I’m a Winchester.”

Keep reading

One Night


 

One night

 

Summary: Sometimes all we need is one night to change things.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Setting: Pre-show so around 2003, 2004 sometime, then goes to 2005.

Warnings: smut *keep it wrapped people so no special surprises you don’t want.*, might need tissues cause it doesn’t end the way you think.

Notes: written for my 400 followers challenge. Requested by @angryschnauzer song requested is Die young by Ke$ha.

Tag list: @winters-buck @policeofficerdean @spnfanficpond @aquabrie

Y/H/C = Your Hair Color, Y/E/C = Your Eye Color, Y/N = Your Name

2005

“Remind me why exactly we’re here?” Sam questioned, in step with Dean as they entered the small seedy bar in Middle of nowhere Arizona.

Eyes rolling, while he searched for one face in the thin crowd, “We have no case, this place was close,” he finished off with a shrug, walking towards the bar.

“Doesn’t answer the question Dean,” called out, watching his brother head towards the bartender noticing something off. For now he’d observe and wait, seeing what exactly this little trip is all about.

“What can I get ya?” slim, wearing a stained white wife beater top and jeans, grey eyes take in Dean leaning on the bar top.

Sliding onto a stool, elbows pressed into the wood, “I’m actually looking for someone,” he answered glancing to his right then left, seeing that Sam wasn’t standing beside him. “She uh, she’s about 5’8, Y/H/C hair, bright Y/E/C eyes.”

Shrugging not wanting to answer him, as he took a step away, “Sorry dude I don’t know anyone…”

“Y/N is her name. I know she lives in town I meet her here a few years ago,” voice tight with anger at being denied his answers. “Look I’m not some psycho, promise. I just need to talk with her.”

Dean could tell the bartender is holding something back, “Listen man I can’t say anything. It’s not my place.”

Taken back by his words, dread filled Dean’s chest. Having not heard from you in the last six months after constant contact either via phone or email. He’d vowed to come back sooner, but life kept kicking him in his teeth in the form of his dad going missing, then grabbing Sam from Stanford, only for his girlfriend to burn like their mother.

Raking a hand through his short brown hair, pleading in his tone, “Just tell me does she still live in the same house.”

Keep reading

The city (Part 4)

Dean X Reader 

Warnings: Swearing 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

***Masterlist***




Alyssa looks up at me as I sit back down. “That took a while.” She says it like she knows I did not go to the bathroom.

“Yeah, there was a long line.” Taking a sip, of my drink I look away trying to ignore the look she is giving me. She knows I’m lying. I wait in anticipation for her to call me on it.

“This Drake White guy is pretty good! I might actually listen to him after this.” Surprise takes me once again, that she did not press the subject. She starts swaying side to side to exaggerate her point. I laugh and take another swig.

“Yeah he isn’t half bad.” I could hear my words start to slur already, luckily Alyssa did not catch it. Man they weren’t kidding with they said don’t take this medication with alcohol. There isn’t even that much vodka in these.



The concert is amazing. It is everything I wanted it to be and more. I will even go, as far as to say this is the best moment of my life. I kept drinking, but slowed down to two an hour.  I also ate an entire funnel cake, an order of fries and a slice of pepperoni pizza I was so drunk. The best part though by far, I did not see Dean or that group at all.



The lights go up, and everyone starts to leave. Alyssa and I join the rest of the heard, stumbling to the stairs.

Grabbing the railing, I take it one step at a time. I hear Alyssa talking to me, but all of my mental concentration goes to not falling and making a fool of myself. Finally on the platform, I look over to Alyssa who clearly had just as hard of a time with these devil stairs.

“Holy shit that was difficult.” I say giggling. She just agrees and laughs with me.

All of a sudden there is a commotion behind us. Turning around I see some girl was not as lucky in her climb. The people at the top of the stairs keep going, and disperse, giving me a glimpse at the girl who fell.

Much to my evil delight, it was blonde number one. I stand there, longer then was probably socially acceptable as I watch Dean and Blonde number two tries and helps her to her feet. I can see her face turn a very bright red. I am laughing probably a little too loud, as the girl looks up at me giving me a death glare. I am to far gone to do the right thing, which would be to stop laughing and walk away, but I am too busy clutching my knees in laughter.

I feel someone grab my elbow and drag me down the tunnel. Finally settling from my howling laughter to just a giggle, I realize it was Alyssa who pulled me out of there. She too was laughing, but I get the distinct feeling it was at me, not Blondie.


We start our trek back to the hotel room. I know Sam and Dean plan to go out to the bars, so we are going to hang out in my room till they get back. Knowing Sam and Dean that won’t be done till they close the bars down.

We round the last corner to the hotel, and see a McDonalds. We both look at each other and at the same time say “McDonalds? McDonalds.” We start laughing like a bunch of drunken teenagers and happily walk in. It was almost midnight, so they only have three people working and a line out the door. We have been in line for ten minutes when a group of, ironically, eight drunk teenage girls walk in.

Anger starts to over come me, as I am forced to hear these annoying drunk children. Luckily since I was about to snap and tell them to shut the fuck up, it was my turn to order. Still very drunk, I order enough for ten. “Hi, can I get: a ten piece nugget, a double cheese burger, a McChicken, a large fry, and a large soda.” I feel slightly guilty at the large order, seeing these workers already struggle.

“Sure, what kind of sauce do you want?” I had to think about it like a riddle, I was so wasted.

“Ranch and sweat and sour?” I say it with an upward inflection, but he just types it in and gives me my total. Swiping my debit card, well fake debit card, I take my number and wait.

Another five minutes of waiting and Alyssa and I are out in the open air, bags of food in our hands and glad to be away from those girls.


Taking the elevator up to the fifth floor, I have a weird feeling come over me. The best way I can describe it is dread. Turning down our hall my stomach drops. I see two blond heads walking down that hallway. Suddenly I feel as sober as if I never drank a drop.

Punching Alyssa in the arm, I put my fingers to my lips, signaling to her to be quit. She nods in agreement, and we make it down the hallway running, but not making any sound. As the girls slow down, so we do too. We are now close enough to hear their conversation.

This hotel is perfectly fitted for this situation. The doors are set back enough that the wall can hide a person. Alyssa and I duck behind the wall a couple doors away.

“Ugh I can’t believe I fell Sarah.” So blonde two is named Sarah. Good to know.

“I know Ashley, but hey at least He came to your rescue. That was hot, the way her carried you up those stairs after.” Sarah said

“Oh yeah I know.” Ashley giggles. “Okay how do I look? Fuckable?” My stomach heaves as she talks. I might throw up.

“Oh definitely!” Ashley goes to say something but Sarah cuts her off. “I know, when you say the code word, I will take Sam and get out so you and Dean can have some alone time.” They both laugh.

Alyssa grabs my arm. I did not even realize I took my knife out.

They knock on the door, which is quickly followed by Sam’s voice. “Ladies, welcome!” Alyssa isn’t strong enough to hold me back as I step into the hallway. Looking in the room I see its dark, other than the light from the T.V.

Sam and I make eye contact just as Ashley is stepping over the threshold. “Where is Dean?” she says in a singsong voice. Sam briefly glances at her when he answers.

“Oh he is just laying down on the bed closest to the windows.” My bed. Sam keeps his eyes on mine while he slowly shuts the door. Hearing the lock click into place, I go to the door, ready to kick the fucker down.

Suddenly I am being tackled. Alyssa firmly clamps her hand over my mouth. “Relax (Y/N). Killing them wont do any good.” I am seething, but I know she is right. There is nothing I can do now.

She stands, giving me her hand. “Lets go, you can stay in my room.” Still incredibly mad, I just nod my agreement.

Gathering our bags of food we dropped, and discarding the spilt drinks; I start walking further down the hall.

Alyssa jogs up to me and tugs on my shoulder to get me to stop. “What!” I practically shout at her, my anger getting the best of me.

She gives me a sheepish look “my room is this way.” She points over her should to where we just came from. Nodding, I bow a little and put my arm out; gesturing for her to lead the way.  

She stops next to my spilt drink. Giving me another sheepish look, she pulls out her key card and unlocks the door next to Sam and Dean’s. She ducks her head from the death glare I am giving her.

Her room is identical to other. Now I know where other door in my room went, it’s a split room door. Alyssa walks over to her bed, and starts getting her food out of the bag. I follow, slightly awkward, since it wasn’t my room.

Alyssa gestures to the other bed, you can use that bed.” She says with a mouth full of food.  

“Thank you.” I smile but it feels more like an obligation. Sitting down I kick off my shoes, and grab my bag of food. Alyssa turns on the T.V.

“Ooooo want to watch house hunters?!” She puts the remote down; clearly I don’t have an option here.

“Yeah, sure.” Eating a chicken nugget, I hear Ashley giggle. My appetite is gone. Placing the half eaten nugget back inside the box, I stand. “Hey do you mind if I shower?” Alyssa seems slightly taken aback from my abruptness.

“Yeah, of course! Hang on let me grab you cloths.” Alyssa walks over to her suitcase and grabs a pair of sweat pants and tee shirt. “Here you go!” I open my mouth to say thank you, but she beats me to it. “Don’t worry about it, seriously enough of the thank yous.” I laugh and nod for what feels like the millionth time that night.

This bathroom is just as nice as the other one. Turning on water to as hot as it gets, I turn on the fan to help mask my crying. Stepping under the water I put my hands on the cool wall. My heart starts beating hard as I think about today’s events. I find myself having to kneel on the ground, curled up in a ball. The feelings of despair and hopelessness over take me as the scalding water beats down on my back.


I don’t know how long I have been here. It feels like hours. My fingers and toes are wrinkled and my spirit is broken. How am I supposed to get into a car with them tomorrow morning? Maybe I can be gone before that. But my bag is in their room.

Deciding I was going to wake up early tomorrow morning and hit the road by myself, I get out and get dressed; a new determination in my heart.

Home

This is from a request I took from my 300th Follower @hi-im-agent-smith: Can you do a Dean x Reader one-shot where reader is cooking dinner and Dean shows up? He tries to steal food and they get into a food fight. They are “trying not to admit their feelings” kind of relationship. (Lots of flirting and stuff but never take the step). As a way to make Dean happy she makes burger and fries. Maybe she surprises him after a rough day?

A/N: I didn’t stick with the food fight and took a few liberties here, I hope you don’t mind, but I think you’ll like the way it turned out.

Word Count: 2760

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (oral sex, female receiving, fingering, unprotected sex)

Originally posted by frozen-delight


The hunting life was never easy. You knew you would never get out, but you did your best to live a normal life most of the time. You had a house, you had a job, sort of. You only took on the occasional hunt close to home. You really liked your own bed. You really liked your own bed when one Dean Winchester was sharing it. He had just called from the road. He was about three hours from your place.

Dean sounded tired, weary. His voice was always rough and deep but there was something else you heard through the phone. You would have to ask him about it when he got here.  A quick glance at the clock told you had just enough time to run to the store to get ingredients and throw together a few of Dean’s favorites.

You loved cooking. It was a release for you, like your writing, but that was your job. Cooking was almost a spiritual journey. Always searching for something to make it better. Tonight’s burgers and fries, although simple, would be no different, you thought, as you washed all the cherries and set to pitting them. It was a pain, but it was busy work. All the while, your mind drifted back to your last encounter with the elder Winchester.

Dean had rolled through town, just like he did every couple of months. You and he spent hours drinking and talking, pretending to watch the old movie playing in the background. In the five years you had known Dean, there had always been an unspoken attraction between the two of you. Flirting had become the norm for the two of you. Neither one pushing it to the next level. You had been in this game long enough to know hunters didn’t get happy endings. Dean took this as gospel, which is why he was only committed to the girl of the moment until the sun came up.

Keep reading

Arboreal Dreams - Part 6

Summary: In a curious case of benevolent dryads, as thanks for sparing their lives, Sam, Dean and Castiel are gifted with a small but precious parcel: you.

Word count: 2500ish

Pairing: Eventual polyamorous Castiel x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings/tropes: UN-BETED, Size-difference (reader is like Thumbelina for the first few parts but she is NOT underage), creature fic, canon-level violence, UST and eventual graphic smut.

A/N: This chapter features some, uh, INTENSE situations that I’m sure some of you might enjoy. ;D And that’s it. I will say no more.

Enjoy, people, and thank you to EVERYONE who has liked and reblogged and followed so far. You guys are freaking amazing and so, so sweet!

As a side note, please be informed that requests and prompts etc. are OPEN so feel free to drop something in my ask box and I’ll get to it as soon as I can. :) But if you just want to chat or say hi, that’s awesome too! ^___^

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5|Next Part

Keep reading