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letsgetbigger · 6 months ago

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Broken Leg

Part one

It was the third week of the university course, and the campus was buzzing with life and activity. Alex and David, dorm roommates, had hit it off from the start. They attended the same classes, shared meals in the cafeteria, and spent hours together in the gym. Alex was blond and he had an athletic body. What stood out the most about his physique was his perky butt. Despite his shyness, he enjoyed David's company. David, darker-haired and more muscular, exuded confidence and had a dominant presence that Alex found intoxicating. Both were very handsome but still virgins.

One afternoon, David returned from the library loaded with books and notes, only to find Alex in bed with a cast on his leg.

"What happened?" he asked, putting his things aside and approaching him.

Alex sighed, clearly annoyed.

"I had a stupid fall on the stairs. I broke my leg, and the doctor said I should avoid putting weight on it for an entire month."

David frowned.

"Wow. Does it hurt a lot?"

"Yes, but they gave me something for the pain. The worst part is I can't move well, and I don't know how I'll attend classes."

David sat on the edge of Alex's bed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about that. I'll share my notes with you so you won't fall behind."

"Thanks."

"And forget about going to the cafeteria. I'll bring you takeout."

Alex looked at him with gratitude.

"What would I do without you?"

David stood up, his expression firm.

"I'm here to help. We'll get through this together."

With that promise, David set out to take care of Alex over the following weeks.

On his first day as a nurse, David woke up early to attend classes, leaving Alex sleeping in the room. He returned a few hours later with fast food in a bag from a campus restaurant.

"I brought you something to eat," he said, placing the bag on a tray over Alex's bed. "I'm heading to the cafeteria now and then to the gym. I'll fetch your dinner tonight."

"Thanks."

Hungry, Alex glanced at his food and quickly devoured it: a burger, fries, and a milkshake. He felt a bit guilty about consuming so many calories, but hunger and boredom made him ignore those thoughts.

Each day followed a similar pattern. And the evenings became their time together. David would go out for dinner, and they would settle in Alex's bed to watch movies and series on the laptop. They shared laughs and conversations. David often watched Alex eat, noticing small changes in his body. His toned muscles started to soften, and a small layer of fat accumulated around his waist and thighs. Alex also noticed the changes. Initially, he felt uncomfortable and embarrassed, though there was something intriguing about it all.

One night, while enjoying a movie together, Alex looked at David.

"I think I've gained some weight," he murmured.

David nodded.

"Yeah, I've noticed. But you're fine, Alex."

David's words made Alex blush and awakened something inside him.

As the days passed, both found themselves thinking more and more about Alex's weight gain. The night before removing the cast, they were in bed, watching a movie. David let his hand rest on Alex's abdomen, feeling the soft curve that had formed. Alex tensed at first but then relaxed, allowing David's hand to stay there.

"I didn't know I'd like this so much," Alex admitted quietly, looking at David with bright eyes.

David smiled, his thumb gently caressing Alex's skin.

"Me neither."

They shared a look filled with meaning. The sexual tension was palpable. David, with his hand still on Alex's soft abdomen, decided to take the first step. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Alex's. Alex responded to the kiss, first shyly and then with growing fervor. When they separated, they were breathing heavily.

"Your physical change turns me on, Alex," David confessed.

Alex gulped.

"It turns me on too," he admitted quietly. "And the fact that you're the one who brought me all that food, that you're partly responsible for my change... arouses me a lot."

Alex's words encouraged David. With a mischievous smile, he took off Alex's shirt, exposing his chest and belly. Alex did the same, undressing David with trembling but determined hands. Alex's pecs, once firm, showed a slight layer of fat, and his nipples were more prominent. His belly had lost definition and appeared softly rounded. David's hands moved down to Alex's pants, unbuttoning and pulling them down. Alex mimicked David. They were left in tight briefs, the fabric clearly outlining their painful hard-ons. With a mix of desire and curiosity, David slid Alex's briefs down, freeing his penis. He then revealed his own. They studied each other for a moment, absorbing the sight of one another, before David took the initiative.

"You look incredible," he murmured, his hand sliding over Alex's abdomen.

His voice was thick with desire. He began to work Alex's cock with slow, firm movements. Alex closed his eyes and let out a moan. Each stroke increased the pleasure.

"David," Alex gasped, "I'm going to... oh... God..."

David increased the pace of his hand while attending to his own erection with equal intensity.

"Let go, Alex," David whispered, his eyes locked on his roommate's.

With a final moan, Alex climaxed. He came in David's hand, who soon reached his own orgasm and collapsed beside him. They knew they had just crossed a line, one they weren't willing to step back from. Their lives had changed forever, and they were eager to explore what the future held.

The next morning, a Saturday, Alex left the doctor's office feeling relieved and excited. After weeks with a cast, he could finally move with more freedom. He had put on sweatpants, since all his jeans were too tight. Opening the dorm door, he found David waiting with a big smile and food temptingly spread out on one of the desks.

"Welcome back to freedom, Alex!" David exclaimed, stepping in for a hug. "I thought we should celebrate in style."

Alex smiled, feeling a special warmth inside.

"Thanks, David. Wow, that's a lot of food."

They sat on the bed, and David started serving him generous portions on a tray. Alex, excited, devoured each bite while David watched with satisfaction. As Alex ate, David couldn't help but comment on the changes in Alex's body.

"You've gained a lot, especially in your butt," he said with a naughty look. "It's gotten bigger and rounder. I love it."

Alex felt his cheeks blush, but couldn't deny he liked David's attention.

"Yeah, these sweatpants are one of the few things that fit," he admitted between bites.

"And not just in your butt," David continued, running his hand over Alex's abdomen. "Your belly has grown too."

After a good while of chewing, swallowing, and drinking, Alex was full and satisfied. But David had more plans for him.

"I want to give you something else, as a reward for eating everything," he said seductively.

David knelt in front of Alex and began to pull down his pants, exposing his tight briefs.

"Wow, these look so snug, Alex," he murmured before freeing Alex's semi-erection and starting to pleasure him with his mouth.

Alex's moans filled the room as David worked skillfully. When Alex reached orgasm, his newly gained fat jiggled. David got up, licking his lips, and leaned in to kiss Alex.

"I want to see you grow more. Would you like that?"

Alex, still feeling waves of pleasure, nodded. David smiled with satisfaction.

Part two

Another month passed, during which David dedicated himself to feeding Alex with great care. Every evening, after dinner at the cafeteria, he made sure his roommate’s belly was well filled. Alex eagerly devoured everything, enjoying both the junk food they bought from local restaurants and the numerous baked goods.

One Sunday afternoon, after a particularly heavy lunch, Alex found himself alone in front of the bathroom mirror. He was only wearing briefs, which now didn't really fit. He turned to see his reflection from different angles. His belly had grown noticeably, rounding out and projecting over the elastic waistband of his underwear. His thighs had thickened, and his love handles bulged out at the sides. But the most striking change was his butt: it had become even bigger and rounder, completely filling the back of his underwear and stretching the fabric almost to its limit. David entered the room at that moment with a box of donuts in hand. Seeing Alex admiring himself in the mirror, a smile of pride and desire appeared on his face.

“Look at you,” David said, approaching and running his hands over Alex’s hips to squeeze the fat with adoration. “You’re so fat...”

Alex shivered at David’s touch and his words.

“It’s your fault,” murmured with excitement.

David moved closer, pressing his body against Alex’s. “I know,” he whispered in his ear before offering him a donut. “Eat.”

Alex took the donut and bit into it, enjoying the sweet taste and the feeling of being fed. As Alex ate, David set the box on the sink, unbuttoned his pants, and lowered his underwear, revealing his immediate erection. Without taking his eyes off Alex’s reflection in the mirror, he slid his tight briefs down with difficulty, exposing his plump cheeks.

“This ass needs to be fucked,” David said, rubbing the sticky tip of his cock between the voluptuous cheeks.

As Alex continued to eat the donuts David gave him, David penetrated him very slowly, their moans mixing with the sounds of Alex chewing. Each thrust was a reminder of how much he had changed, how his body had transformed. David kept whispering in his ear how fat he was. Alex, completely surrendered, felt waves of pleasure through his body. His belly bounced slightly with each movement, and his hard nipples rubbed against the mirror. He finished the last donut just as he reached climax, his cries echoing in the bathroom. David kept moving, prolonging the pleasure for both of them, before finally coming. He stayed inside Alex for a few moments, breathing heavily.

“I want to see you even fatter,” he said.

Alex, still feeling David’s cock inside him and the donuts in his stomach, nodded. “Yes. Make me fatter.”

The next day, Alex and David decided they wouldn’t go to class. The desire to spend the day together enjoying their intimacy and Alex’s body transformation was too strong. David woke up early and went out to buy a large amount of food. He returned to the dorm with several bags full of fast food, cake, and sodas. Alex, still in bed, watched with curious and eager eyes as David placed the food on the desk. The aroma of burgers, fries, pizzas, and desserts made his stomach growl with hunger. David approached the bed with a slice of pizza in hand and held it in front of Alex’s lips.

“Today, we’re going to make sure that fat keeps piling on,” he said with a seductive smile.

Alex opened his mouth and bit into the pizza, tasting the greasy cheese. While Alex ate, David sat beside him, caressing his rounded belly. It wobbled when he shook it. On the other hand, his love handles were so irresistible that David couldn’t stop touching them either.

“You’re so fat, Alex. I love how all this jiggly fat moves,” David said in a low, desire-filled voice.

His hands roamed over every roll, every fold, admiring how Alex’s body had transformed. Alex, with his mouth full, could only moan with pleasure. David’s touch and words of admiration made him feel incredibly sexy. He continued devouring slice after slice, all of them offered by his roommate. David leaned in and began kissing Alex’s belly.

“Will you get even fatter for me?” he asked, looking up to meet Alex’s eyes.

“Yes,” Alex replied, his voice trembling with excitement.

David smiled and pulled down Alex’s pre-cum-soaked underwear, revealing his member. As he finished the pizza, David began to jerk him off slowly, his hands moving skillfully. Alex shivered with pleasure, feeling his body become increasingly sensitive to David’s fingers. His belly bounced slightly with each stroke, as did his nipples. David watched Alex with fascination. He couldn’t resist any longer. He turned Alex over and positioned himself behind him, lowering his own pants and underwear.

“I’m going to fuck you, Alex. And while I do, I want you to eat this burger,” he said, bringing it close to his mouth.

Alex grunted in agreement. David slid his cock into Alex with one hand and pushed the burger towards his mouth with the other, making him eat while he thrust. They quickly reached climax.

The first exams finally came to an end, and the accumulated stress from weeks of studying dissipated. One day, David had the idea to buy a scale. He returned to the dorm with a smile. Alex, who had spent the last few months enjoying the food David fed him, was lying in bed, engrossed in a series.

“Alex, come here,” David called with a mischievous grin on his lips.

Alex got up with some effort, his body clearly more voluminous and heavy. He approached David, who placed the scale in the center of the room.

“It’s time to see how much you’ve grown,” David said, his voice filled with anticipation.

Alex stepped on the scale, and they both watched as the numbers stabilized.

“209 pounds,” David read aloud. “Damn, you’ve gained 55 pounds.”

Alex looked at David and noticed his crotch. Without saying a word, he knelt in front of him, lowered his pants, and started sucking his cock. David moaned, his hands burying in Alex’s hair as he took him deeply into his mouth. The sight of a fatter Alex, dedicated to pleasuring him, drove him wild.

“Yes, Alex, keep going,” he said, trembling with pleasure.

Alex sucked him fervently, enjoying the power he had to arouse David. David’s cock was rock hard, and every moan he made encouraged Alex to continue. David couldn’t hold back any longer. He lifted Alex and pushed him onto the bed.

“What an ass,” David whispered, lowering his extremely tight briefs and giving him a smack.

He entered him slowly, savoring every second.

“You’ve gotten so fat for me...” he said as he began to move.

Alex moaned, feeling the pressure and pleasure mix in his body.

“Yes, David, and I love being like this for you,” he responded, moving in sync with David’s thrusts.

David increased the pace, his hands firmly gripping Alex’s love handles.

“You’re so sexy, so... obese,” he murmured.

They both reached orgasm simultaneously, their bodies shaking in unison. After coming, David collapsed on top of Alex, panting and sweaty. A few seconds later, he rolled off and lay next to him.

“David,” Alex began, turning to look him in the eyes, “I have something to confess. I want both of us to get fat. I’d like to see you with some extra pounds.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You’re into fat, it’s obvious. Don’t you wonder what it would feel like on your own body?”

“Well, I am curious, yes.”

“I think we should start this Christmas break. We’ll stay here on campus, and we can spend it eating and enjoying ourselves.”

David smiled, his face lighting up with the same excitement Alex felt.

“We can give it a go.”

They looked at each other with a mix of love and lust, knowing that the path they had chosen together would be full of pleasure and discoveries. And so, with a new determination, they prepared for the next chapter of their shared story, ready to see how far they could go.

Part three

Christmas vacation was coming to an end, and for Alex and David, those days had been a complete transformation. Not just in their bodies, but in their relationship. Ever since Alex had confessed his desire for both of them to gain weight together, they had dedicated every moment to fulfilling it. Every morning, they ordered huge breakfasts for delivery: piles of pancakes covered in butter and maple syrup, sausages, eggs, and calorie-rich milkshakes. At noon, they took turns going out for fast food, which consisted of burgers, pizzas, and huge servings of fries. And dinner was always a feast, with endless desserts. They ate, laughed, and shared caresses as their bodies expanded day by day.

The result of those weeks of indulgence was undeniable. Alex, who had started with a chubby body, had gained even more weight. His belly now spilled over the waistband of his pants, soft and rounded. His thighs rubbed against each other. And his naturally perky butt now projected with additional volume, making it very prominent. David, on the other hand, had begun his transformation with a more muscular body. But the constant intake of food and the temporary abandonment of the gym had added pounds in a distributed manner. His navel, deep as it was, got lost in a belly that was beginning to round out. His large nipples seemed more prominent under the soft fabric of his tight shirts, and his hips and thighs had acquired a layer of fat that gave him a more voluptuous contour. His butt, always firm, now had a softness that made it jiggle slightly when he moved.

It was a Sunday afternoon when they decided to face the results of their dedication. They looked at each other, their eyes full of complicity and desire, and headed to the scale. Alex went first.

“231 pounds,” David announced triumphantly. “You’ve gained another 22 pounds this vacation.”

Alex smiled, feeling pride and excitement. He stepped off the scale and gestured for David to take his place. David stepped up and waited for the numbers to stabilize.

“201 pounds,” read Alex. “You’ve gained almost 44 pounds. How is that possible?”

Without a word, they removed their underwear, which was uncomfortably tight around their waists and butts.

“I love how you look,” murmured David, approaching Alex and sliding a hand over his belly.

“And I love how you’ve gotten,” Alex responded, his hands running down David’s sides.

They celebrated with a kiss what they had created together and David led Alex to the bed.

“I’m going to give you all the pleasure you deserve,” David whispered. “Every pound you’ve gained is because of me, and that drives me crazy.”

His lips kissed Alex’s neck while his fingers played with his nipples. Alex moaned, his hands finding David’s nipples, pinching them gently and enjoying the reaction it provoked.

“And every pound you’ve gained is because of me,” Alex replied.

David smiled, embracing Alex, whose cock was hard and dripping.

“Let’s eat a bit more,” David suggested, reaching for a chocolate cake cut into generous slices that he had left on his desk the day before. “I want to watch you devour this while I fuck you.”

Alex turned around, his breath quickening with anticipation. As David slowly penetrated him, he began eating the slices, one after another, each bite filling him with both food and pleasure. His moans filled the room as David moved inside him, whispering, 'You’re so obese' and 'I love your fat ass.' Alex asked David to eat some cake too, and David obeyed. They finished the whole thing quickly. When they climaxed, David collapsed on Alex, both covered in crumbs.

“Let’s keep this up,” Alex murmured, his voice barely audible. “Let’s get even fatter.”

David nodded, kissing Alex’s forehead.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, waking Alex and David. They stretched in their beds, feeling the additional weight of their bodies after a holiday of indulgence. They looked at each other and laughed, knowing they would have to face the reality of their new sizes today.

“We should try on our school clothes before classes resume,” David said, getting out of bed. “I doubt anything other than a couple of big t-shirts and sweatpants will fit.”

Alex felt a mix of nervousness and excitement at the thought of how his clothes would fit his new curves. They started searching through their closets. David was the first to try on a shirt. It was one of his favorites, black, which used to fit him perfectly. Now, as he slid it over his torso, the fabric stretched noticeably over his belly, and his bulging nipples were more prominent than ever.

“It looks ridiculous on me,” David said, looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and then at Alex.

Alex couldn’t help but bite his lower lip at such a display of David’s weight gain.

“You look like a cow! Let me try,” he said, pulling out some stretchy jeans.

He pulled them up over his wide thighs with difficulty.

“Ugh! I can’t button them,” he commented, turning to see the fabric stretching dangerously over his hips.

David watched as Alex’s unbuttoned pants didn’t cover his butt, accentuating its new roundness.

“You’re the cow. Those seams are going to burst any moment,” David teased.

They continued trying on different clothes, laughing and making erotic comments. It was clear they needed new clothes.

They left their dorm dressed poorly and walked to the nearest store. Every step made their bodies move enticingly: their bellies jiggled slightly, and their butts swayed sensually.

They returned to their dorm having acquired several large pieces of clothing, including underwear, turned on by the sights in the changing rooms.

“Today, I realized how truly fat we are,” David said, touching Alex’s belly and feeling the softness under his fingers.

“I know,” Alex said, grabbing David’s tits.

The room filled with whispers, caresses, and moans, every movement a promise of pleasure.

The first day of classes after the holidays went by somewhat normally for Alex and David. They got up early, dressed in their new clothes, and attended classes. Everyone commented on how much weight they had gained over Christmas, but they just shrugged. After the morning classes, they headed to the cafeteria for lunch. Even though the food was healthy, they ate way too much.

They lay down in their beds back in their dorm room.

“Should we go back to the gym?” Alex asked, though without much conviction.

David looked at him and smiled.

“I’d rather order a pizza and keep enjoying this,” he said, slapping his own belly.

Alex laughed and nodded.

“That sounds better. But pizza? We just ate.”

They decided to play a little prank. They put on the smallest underwear they had, ones they hadn’t thrown away on purpose. The elastic waistband dug into their flesh and shamelessly showed their ass cracks.

“Let’s see the pizza guy's reaction,” David said, adjusting his underwear and admiring his reflection in the mirror.

Soon the doorbell rang. David opened the door, revealing his barely covered body in his briefs. Alex approached as well, both of them shamelessly showing off. The pizza guy stood there, mouth open, unable to avoid staring at their exposed roundness.

“Here... here’s your pizza,” he said in a trembling voice, handing over the boxes.

“Thanks,” Alex said, taking the pizza and turning around.

They burst into laughter as they closed the door.

“He looked at us like we were monsters!” David said.

“That was incredible!” Alex added.

They took off their underwear, sat on Alex’s bed, opened the box, and started devouring the pizza. Every bite was a mix of pleasure and lust.

“Look how fat you are,” David mumbled.

“And what about you? Fat pig,” Alex responded.

Desire grew between them, and as they continued chewing, they touched and masturbated each other. The insults about their obesity took them to new levels of excitement. They were trapped in a cycle of pleasure and fatness, and both knew there was no going back.

Final part

After months of classes, spring break, final exams, much indulgence, and endless sessions of pleasure, the school year was almost over. Alex and David woke up one morning feeling the weight of their bodies, the result of their voracious appetite and constant desire to gain weight.

David opened his eyes first, his hand brushing the expanse of his belly before getting out of bed. His body moved with noticeable effort. The lard on his abdomen spilled over in several folds. His large, dark nipples stood out on his soft chest, surrounded by a mass of flesh that jiggled with every movement. His arms, once firm and toned, were now thick and full. He looked down at his legs. His thighs had widened considerably, and his calves were filled with fat. The most unexpected change was his butt. His glutes had expanded enormously, each fat and rounded cheek bouncing slightly as he walked. His hips had also widened, giving him a more voluptuous shape.

“Alex, are you awake? Let’s weigh ourselves, fatso. It’s time,” David mumbled sleepily.

Alex got out of bed. His body wasn’t far behind in changes. His abs, once firm and defined, had disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His belly hung over the waistband of his XL briefs, creating a roundness that swayed with every movement. His nipples were also larger. As for his arms, they were surrounded by a layer of fat that gave them a soft appearance. His thighs had grown considerably, as had his calves, and his glutes, once firm and perky, were now even bigger and rounder than David’s, a tempting sight with every step he took.

They headed together to the scale. David stepped on first, watching the numbers rapidly rise until they stopped at 326 pounds.

“Holy crap! 326 pounds,” he said with a mix of amazement and excitement.

Then it was Alex’s turn. He stepped on the scale. The numbers climbed until they stopped at 313 pounds.

“313 pounds,” Alex said proudly and worriedly.

David approached Alex to caress his enormous butt, his hands sinking into the soft, overflowing flesh. He squeezed the cheeks lightly, making them jiggle like jelly. Alex's hands roamed David’s soft belly to feel every inch of fat. Then his fingers played with David’s salami-sized nipples, which instantly hardened. They looked at each other intensely. It had totally gotten out of hand. What would their families say when they saw them in the summer?

“David, I love you.”

“I love you too, Alex.”

#gay gainer #gaining weight on purpose #gainer stories #gaining kink #gaining fat #gainer fiction

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luvingspence · 2 years ago

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𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩

early seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer gets emotional once he realises how much his girlfriend loves him <3

also spot the taylor swift and twilight reference girlies! and apologies for how cheesy this is, it’s very rushed bc exams so it isn’t proofread :(

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His apartment felt different now that she was here. There was more colour, her pink slippers were next to his, she now kept tulips in a lovely patterned vase in the kitchen, and there was now a thrifted clothing rack in the corner of their shared bedroom for the clothes that refused to fit in the large oak wardrobe.

The atmosphere felt different too. The candles she burned smelled warm, he now couldn’t wait to come home, compared to how he used to feel. Knowing he would be coming home to an apartment that wasn’t empty and lonely filled him with a feeling that was almost indescribable. It was like having butterflies in his stomach, but all so much more than that. Something in his chest blossomed and happiness spread to every corner of his body when he saw her perched on the sofa with her fingers skimming the pages of one of his books, or when he saw her in one of his sweaters with the most adorable frilly apron around her waist when baking in the kitchen.

Though, today was an unusual day off. By some miracle, Hotch had managed to convince Strauss to get another team on-call for the coming week. After three back-to-back cases, all lasting a week long, Aaron knew his team needed to sleep in their own beds.

So there he was, in thick, odd socks many sizes too big for him, a green cable knit sweater, and grey plaid-pyjama trousers on his sofa watching re-runs and more re-runs, waiting for his girlfriend to come home. It felt strange to be the one at home for once, but it was pleasant.

“Spence, honey.” Manicured fingers carded through his long-ish hair, he jumped. She giggled.

“Sorry, you looked like you were about to doze off there,” She circled around from the back of the sofa and sat next to him, thighs touching and arms now tangled together, “guess you didn’t hear me come in, huh?”

“Guess not.” He bashfully winced, embarrassed by his skittishness.

“How was your day off then, genius?” As she asked about his day she pulled a multi-coloured blanket that Penelope had knit Spencer off from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around them.

“Good, it was good.” He leaned his head on her shoulder and cuddled closer. “It was going to read today but I just watched Doctor Who re-runs, I don’t get to do that often.”

“Sounds good, honey.” Y/n smiled softly and kissed his forehead, “you of all people need a lazy day every now and then.”

Spencer silently nodded and slide further down the sofa so he could rest his sofa against her chest. He felt something cold and metallic against his chest. A curious hum escaped his lips. “What’s wrong, honey?”

He sat up straight, now looking down at his sweet girlfriend. He brought his hand to her chest and fingered at the new metal handing from her neck.

It was a cute little golden locket. It looked to be vintage. It was oval in shape and had floral patterns and vines creating a lovely botanic boarder around the locket.

“This new?” He mumbled, still twirling the locket between nimble fingers.

“Oh this?” Y/n softly smiled down and wrapped a gentle hand around Spencer’s wrist while he played with the chain, “Yeah, it’s new. I saw it in a little vintage shop when I was out with Penny last week. It’s cute, right?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” It did look adorable. It fell neatly just below her collarbones. It was a very her necklace. He imagined it would look well with all of her clothes, especially the sundresses and lacy tanks she loved so much. “It’s very pretty. You look very pretty.”

“You’re the sweetest, Spence.” She grinned widely. She ducked her head and laid chaste pecks along his neck before resuming their cuddling. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled her close and ran his fingers down the side of her arm, his fingers touched her so gently it felt like he was barely there. It was a sweet, rare moment of uninterrupted peace for the couple.

Spencer though, his brain was still whirring. Why hadn’t he noticed the locket this past week? It was more than unusual for him to not notice something new about Y/n. Maybe he should ask.

“Have you been wearing this all week?” She shook her head.

“No, I didn’t want to wear it empty.” She laughed softly, she removed her head from it’s place on her boyfriend’s shoulder and fiddled with the locket’s opening.

“Did you put a picture of Taylor Swift or that other singer you like in there?” He chuckled.

“Lana Del Rey?” She corrected, “and honestly, I thought about it, but no.” She glanced up at him and smiled, he noticed a flustered expression on her face.

Once she got the locket open, he saw it. In a heart shapes frame inside the pretty locket, was an even prettier picture of the two of them. How she managed to get a photo small enough of the two of them to fit inside the locket, he was clueless.

“It’s us?” His voice became quiet, his pink lips formed a small pout.

The picture was simple, they had been out with friends in the summer. He was in casual attire, which was a very rare occurrence, ordinary black trousers and a beige sweater with his usual converse. Y/n was a sight to behold, however. Perched on his lap comfortably in adorable sandal-wedges and a sweet white sundress, she was planting a loving kiss on Spencer’s cheek while he grinned at the camera.

“Of course it’s us,” She looked down as if she had a reason to be embarrassed, “I know it’s cheesy but, I just… I don’t know. I love you. Like, a lot.”

He was for once, speechless.

He suddenly felt like the young, timid, and perpetually awkward twelve year old version of himself with too-long hair and glasses a little too big for the bridge of his nose. Never, and he could not stress the never enough, had he thought that would find someone who cared and loved for him in such a pure, wholesome, unabashed way.

“I love you.” He quickly said. He had never been more sure of anything.

She cooed, obviously enamoured with the man before her. “I know you do, Spence.”

“No, I mean,” He took a shaky breath, “I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. Loving you and being loved by you has made me feel a form of happiness I never thought possible for a person like me. Before I experienced this, love, I thought it would be simple, black and white, but it’s so golden. You’re my golden.”

He’d lifted her hand to his mouth and gingerly placed a teary kiss on the back of her palm. He didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go.

He’d never let her go if she’d let him.

“Spence, honey,” She sniffled. Making her cry hadn’t been his intention, obviously, but he assumes that from her giddy smile and softened gaze that they were tears of happiness, of love, of all things good. “I’m golden?”

He only nodded, but that was all she needed.

“You’re my golden too, Spencer.”

#kacey talks <3 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #taylor swift references #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #mgg #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fluff #x fem!reader

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regicidal-defenestration · 3 months ago

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MY BOY

He's the K9 shoulder bag as seen in The Doctor Who Pattern Book by Joy Gammon and I love him

#doctor who #k9 #i don't actually have a tag for my sewing projects because i never post them here. maybe i should

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consultingskeletondetective · 3 months ago

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Virginal, chapter 2

Michael had left you alive, and you couldn't begin to fathom why. You know all you can do is try and forget it and move on with your life.

Except...Michael has followed you home.

masterlist ❤️🖤 ao3

chapter tags: serial killer, murder, death, violence, blood, gore, weapons, knife, female reader, non con, stalking, hair pulling, forced orgasms

The police hadn’t caught him yet.

It had been almost a week since your encounter with Michael Myers in the woods on your way home from work, and he’d been on the run ever since. You hadn’t reported what had happened to the authorities, even if you’d been on the verge of it many times. You’d spent the whole week waking up in cold sweats with a gooey and shameful mess between your legs at the memory of Michael’s large hand on your neck, or the sense-memory of his cock pressed heavy and dangerous against your core. The way he’d used you, fucked you, like his own little plaything haunted you.

No one could know what he’d done to you, no one could know how you felt about it, even if the guilt gnawed at you. Maybe if you’d told someone, they might have caught him by now, and people might still be alive. But there was a part of you, a part of you you wished you didn’t have, that reminded you that if Michael wanted someone dead, then there was nothing any earthly power could do to keep that person alive. Michael left no survivors.

Except for you.

It had been on the news religiously all week; police were baffled by his location and utterly at a loss for his motivations and patterns. Michael, it seemed, cared not a bit to cover his tracks. He even seemed to decorate his murder scenes artistically, propping bodies up and, blurred though they were on the television, reminding you of a sick and gruesome game of action figures. They were Michael’s bodies, to do with as he pleased. Twelve people he’d killed since he found you. Twelve. That the authorities were aware of, anyway. The thought chilled you to the very core.

You’d learnt from the heavy reporting that Michael Myers had been being held at the Westbrook Sanitarium for the criminally insane, not four miles from where you worked, and he’d escaped that night he’d taken you - thrust against your weak body until he came on your cunt like a wild animal.

You were the first person he’d come across, apparently, and after years of solitude, Michael had some frustrations to take out on you. You knew well who he was, you recognised that mask and that boiler suit the second you’d seen it. You’d grown up with stories of the boogeyman who’d murdered his sister the same as everyone else, thrust into the spotlight when he’d escaped from Smith’s Grove Sanitarium a few years ago and murdered a bunch of teenagers on a spree. You’d seen the youtube video essays and buzzfeed articles on the stoic killing machine who’d baffled psychologists and doctors up and down the country, maybe even the world. You’d walked past books in shops written about this monster, his silence, his rage, his gore and death and damnation were a part of your culture. It made it easy to forget that Michael Myers was real, and not just some fictitious product of a sick mind. He became very real to you that night, your own personal boogeyman.

You’d learnt that Michael Myers was no man, he was an evil spirit, a hell-sent silent demon, a ghost - one that was haunting you.

You turned the television off and went into the bathroom, shucking your clothes into a messy pile by the bath as you stepped under the cool spray of the shower.

It was a warm day, your skin over-hot, and you welcomed the clammy dribbles down your back. You washed quickly, fingers pressing too familiar over the lips of your pussy, you expected them still to be swollen, puffy from use where Michael had rutted his scorching and elephantine cock against you like a beast in heat, but it wasn’t. It was like it hadn’t happened. Except it had, of course, because you still wore him on your skin. His fingertips were in every bruise, his grip was the ache in your bones with every groan of your sore body. It was like he’d marked you, made your tiny body a part of his eclipsing form.

You shook your head frustratedly to yourself in the bathroom mirror before flicking the lightswitch off and making your way to your bedroom. You couldn’t think of him every moment for the rest of your life, you couldn’t live in fear of the boogeyman. He had left you alive, and you had to live with that. Michael was gone, and you’d never see him again.

You pulled a short nightdress on, the flimsy material to combat the hot and sticky night you anticipated, and you made your way to the kitchen to fill up your water bottle to take to bed.

The outside light was on.

It wasn’t yours, but your neighbours. It was motion-sensored, you knew that because it blinded you every time you stumbled back from a night shift.

You frowned before crossing to the door, to close the blinds over the glass so no one would be able to see into your home in the middle of the night. Your hand tangled in the string before it froze, along with the rest of your body. Like your blood had frozen to ice inside you and made you a dead weight to the floor.

Michael was standing under the light, 50 yards away from your door. He was staring sightlessly at you through the empty eyes of his mask, utterly emotionless. His hands rested unclenched by his sides, his back razor-straight as always. He was just watching. His form gave no indication of how long he’d been there. Maybe hours.

Fear shot through you and the string began to shake violently in your grip as you stared at him. He’d come to finish what he’d started, you realised in horror, he’d noticed his mistake in leaving you alive. Was it so you couldn’t tell the police? Was it just that you needed to die, he’d had you in his grasp and that was that, a rageful itch under his skin that wouldn’t be quenched until your blood was soaking his hands?

It didn’t make sense. He was stood in the street, bathed in your neighbours motion light like a bloody homing beacon. Surely they’d seen him. Surely someone had seen him and called the police? Why weren’t there any sirens? It was deathly quiet. Just you, him and the wind. Maybe it was a fever dream, a sleep paralysis nightmare and your demon had returned to you.

He began walking leisurely towards the door, his pace bone-tinglingly unhurried as ever, before he stopped at the glass and peered down at you. You shrank, paralysed with fear. You’d somehow forgotten just how big he was. He might have been two foot taller than you, and just as broad, taking up the whole of the door so he blacked out any light behind him. That was as good a metaphor as any to describe Michael. The darkness followed him.

You didn’t know why you weren’t moving, dazzled, you supposed somewhere in the back of your mind. A monster brought to life, in front of you, enough to convince yourself that you were dreaming.

His fist shattered through the glass, shards of glittering ice hitting the kitchen floor as his hand curled down to find the handle. You screamed, backing off so violently your back hit the fridge and tears wept down your cheeks until they were quite literally soaking the front of your nightie. This was no dream. It was a nightmare incarnate.

Even his violent outburst seemed calm somehow, shattering your backdoor into shards of glass like it was nothing. His large hand found the door handle and began to rattle it, and the noise caused your brain to snap back to where it needed to be.

You forced your eyes from him, pushed yourself away from the fridge and scurried into the living room. The front door was in your sights. You didn’t know precisely what you planned to do with yourself when you got outside, your brain hadn’t made it that far yet. All you knew was that you needed to survive, and you had no chance of that locked in the same cage as this rabid animal.

You grabbed for the front door handle with a hiss of accomplishment, throwing your gaze back over your shoulder to ascertain how much time you had. No time. Michael was already in the living room, walking towards you like he had all the time in the world. You shrieked in pure terror at his towering form as you flung the door wide open, the concrete of your front step was cool on your barefoot but the sensation barely lasted a second as fingers tangled roughly in your hair and yanked you roughly until you fell onto the carpet. The open-palm of Michael’s free hand slammed the front door shut, cutting off your exit, and the oak creaked under the force of it, the foundations of the house damn-near shaking.

You scrambled onto your knees, screeching, crying, grasping at his hand in your hair, wincing when every flex of his fingers yanked at your scalp, tearing individual hairs out by the roots. He had to bend his back to hold you to the floor, his emotionless mask looking down on you. His breathing was barely audible over your devastated screams. You couldn’t move.

“Please, please, please, Michael, please don’t kill me. I didn’t tell anyone, I swear! I won’t! I don’t want to die, please let me go, please, please-”

You could barely beg, your throat hoarse, your words sobs. He didn’t respond except to drag you into the middle of the room by your hair, kicking the coffee table aside to make room for you both in the middle of the floor. One of the wooden legs of your poor table snapped under his boot before he tossed you down like a ragdoll. Your back hit the carpeted floor and it shook your whole frame. You instinctively planted your palms on the floor behind yourself, to crawl back, to spring up, you didn’t know.

Michael’s boot came to rest on your bare thigh, his weight utterly solid and you wailed as he pinned you to the floor. Your nightie had ridden up, not to the point of indecency, but enough that his boot kissed your flesh. You froze as fresh tears streamed down your face, remembering exactly what he’d done the last time he’d had you like this, as if just realising how acutely vulnerable you were in this position. Were you even wearing underwear? You didn’t think so. His boot was mere inches away from your exposed cunt, all he’d have to do was push your dress up and he’d see everything. See how fucking wet you were. You hated yourself.

“Please,” you tried again, voice barely a whisper as you looked up at him. Submissive, you realised, prey before a predator, begging for its life. “What do you want?”

He didn’t move, you could barely tell if he was breathing, just staring down at you as everything else in the world fell away. His hands were still loose by his sides, no knife, you noted, but a grim red-hued dirt on the rough palms of his hands you could identify without too much guesswork. Your stomach rolled.

His hand raised and you jolted, expecting pain, to be struck, stripped, killed.

How long had he been searching for you? Maybe he’d never left, maybe he’d been one step behind you all week, watching you sleep, watching you shower - were those twelve people dead because they lived close to you? Did you kill them?

His large hand came to rest over the front of his crotch and your mouth fell open. Not again. Why me? You were already shaking your head, breathy hitching sobs racking through you.

“No, Michael, please -”

He toed your thigh with the steel-gap of his boot, shoving it to the side, affectively opening your legs and you wanted to close your eyes, the feeling of vulnerability and shame as he spread your legs for him hurt something deep inside of you, you felt dirty and shameful in every one of your nerves. Your slick was soaking the back of your nightie and probably your carpet too. What the fuck was wrong with you?

He fell to his knees in front of you, in a way that could only have hurt, but he didn’t make a sound as his large, gore-stained hands gripped your bare thighs and tugged until you were lying in front of him. You squeaked, your legs not quite touching his, more left hanging in the air as he scraped his calloused hands down your thighs in a way that definitely didn’t make your heart speed up, no more than it was already hammering, before his palms were flat on your inner thighs, pressing them apart and into the floor. You tried immediately and desperately to close them and his grip on you tightened to the point of extreme pain, your femurs tremoring dangerously like they might snap if you moved even an inch.

You stilled completely, you couldn’t tell where he was looking, but it seemed to be right at you, that emotionless masked expression, or lack of, giving you nothing, but you could feel the rage and the dangerous power wafting off of him, you could feel the coiled strength in his fingers, the strain of his bicep muscles in his boiler suit as he held you immobile and you swallowed, shivering in fear and pitiful acceptance as you stopped struggling. If you had any hope of getting out of this alive, and as uninjured as possible, you had to stop fighting.

His pathetic, mewling hole, your brain supplied almost bitterly.

Once apparently satisfied you’d stopped struggling, MIchael’s grip on your thighs lessened somewhat, leaving deep red bruises regardless, and he shifted forwards on his knees, taking up more space between your legs, as he rucked your nightie up to your belly, sitting back a little just to stare at your pussy, exposed and dripping and vulnerable, as if getting a good look at the wet little hole that had made him come so hard the last time.

Your cheeks burned boiling hot as he looked at you, your thighs twitching conspirately to close but you forced yourself to try and calm, utterly impossible, you trembled like a newborn foal.

He dipped his head between your legs and your back arched, startled, wondering what he possibly meant to do, particularly, your horrible brain chipped in, with a mask over his face. You could hear nothing but that breathing, before it was sucked in, the nose of his mask just nudging your folds and making you jolt.

Was he - was he smelling you?

He made no noise, his body shifted an inch. What was he doing? It was like he was searching for something. He kept his nose buried against your soaping heat for a few more moments before he apparently found it. Then he was sitting back up again. Your knees were nearly knocking together in terror when his hands, fuck, how were they so big? framed your cunt, pulling at the flesh of the tops of your thighs, spreading your folds, revealing the vulnerable pink flesh of your seam, your clit.

Oh fuck.

He prodded you with a long finger a few times, painful sharp jabs until he caught the rim of your opening and sunk in to the knuckle. It burned, it burned so hot, you clenched painfully around his finger. Fuck, it felt like the size of a cock all on its own. But the finger was withdrawn as quickly as it had breached you, like a fucking dip test, but no less rough on the way out and you grimaced. You had a pretty good idea about what was to follow, and the anticipation of the pain alone was enough to make you cry again.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tried again pathetically, wondering somewhere in your mind why you were trying to distract him from fucking you, when the alternative was his heavy hands shattering your collarbone until your heart was pierced by your own brittle dagger. Survival, you kept saying to yourself, one day you might believe it, you were trying to live. Nothing else. Nothing else.

He’d already unzipped his boiler suit, you could just glimpse a sliver of pale flesh beneath but he undressed himself no further, reaching down into his trousers and pulling his cock free.

Fucking hell.

It was a goddamn fucking monster. It sat snug in Michael’s large hand, long and thick, crown red with blood and dribbling precome, it curved up slightly, in a way that was designed to attack that spot inside of you, and when he dropped it, it dipped, bobbing against his boiler suit, so heavy under its own weight it could barely hold itself up, but it did, his cock stood proud and to attention, ready for action, as he shifted down a little, hands once more finding your thighs and hauling you practically into his lap. He threw your legs over his broad hips, stretching your thigh muscles, as his cock rested hot and heavy on your pelvic bone, like a leaden weight on you. Oh fuck, you were so fucked. It was near enough the size of your thigh, and you knew it was going to wreck you.

You jerked your hips uselessly, trying in vain to put some distance between you and Michael’s thick cock, you’d never had a partner that size before, you’d never even had a toy that size. It wasn’t going to fit, it was as simple as that. Except he didn’t care.

He pressed his hips up, taking you with him, lifting your back clean off of the floor so your spine was arched uncomfortably. He paid you no mind as he gripped the base of his erection and slipped himself down through your folds.

He was silent, calm and ferocious as he pressed forward against you with so much pressure that it hurt. You could feel his heaviness hard against your pelvic bone and you trembled in fearful anticipation of what was about to happen.

Finally, Michael found what he was looking for and his thick cockhead breached your hole barely a centimetre but still you gasped, already undone by being so violently penetrated by not even a goddamn inch of that fat unforgiving head.

Michael surged forward, in triumph perhaps, or just in a hurry to get his cock stuffed deep into you as quickly as possible, but your traitorous cunt was wet enough that he slipped straight back out again, whole cock fucking upwards and jamming through your folds, gliding gloriously against your clit. You let out a loud moan and he stilled entirely except for the throb of his cock against you. You clapped your hands to your mouth and forced your eyes to the ceiling. You hadn’t meant to do that. You didn’t want to give him the sick satisfaction. It was the last thing you could keep for yourself.

Michael was a fast learner, it seemed, because this time he inched a little more slowly inside you until a good inch of solid cock was spearing you open. You thought you might die, knees knocking against his hips helplessly as he forcibly stretched you obscenely around him. You will take me, I will make it fit.

Only when he was firm in you, and you were surely going to pass out from pressure alone, did he plunge his hips forward, his whole cock sinking to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

The pain, fuck the pain was indescribable, burning, aching, stuffed full, stuffed beyond full - he didn’t care - he didn’t care that he’d probably just ripped you in half, stretched you so full you were more cock than you were yourself anymore. He didn’t care you were crying, shivering, he cared that you were an open, wet heat to warm his cock in.

Those blood-stained, murderous hands gripped your hips and an ache blossomed in your bones, your skin beneath his skin turned white to red to near-black with bloodied pressure-bruises as he gripped you hard enough you fully believed he intended to shatter bone. He could, you knew he could. It was enough to lose yourself to, you were going to pass out, you were going to die from the stress and agony forced upon your weak and small body. This was how he was going to kill you.

He moved, shifted his heavy length inside you, nudging spots of your flesh where a cock was not meant to be. He pulled out incrementally, shoved back in and oh - oh .

Your thighs shook again, trembled, as spiralling pleasure mixed with pain and your pussy clenched around his cock, contracting around it as he thrust in again, as if traitorously and deliriously pulling him in to you, to where that thick and hot pressure felt the best. He thrust in again, harder than before, faster than before, immediately picking up an athletic, robotic pace as if he were half-way through a marathon fuck, thrumming with energy. You had no time to adjust, no time to build-up - you were there immediately, clenching uncontrollably on Michael Myer’s mercilessly hard cock, your cunt fluttering and clenching on every brutal, animalistic intrusion, until you couldn’t take it anymore. There was no edge, there was just falling.

You yelped, back arching up even more than it already was, legs squeezing the small of Michael’s back as your poor cunt spasmed, coming hot and hard until you felt your own slick dribbling down the backs of your thighs. Michael didn’t stop for a second, he didn’t even slow, you nearly choked on your own spit.

He was utterly devoid of anything, breathing heavy and focused, no movement except the piston of his hips as he fucked you deep and unforgiving until you were sure his thick crown was kissing at your cervix.

Your head was hazy, eyes unfocused, you had absolutely no control over your overworked cunt anymore, whining pitifully as you came around him again, lathering his cock in your traitorous spend, praying every time that he’d slow, but he didn’t, and you felt that molten lava in your core building again until you were covered in a sheen of your own sweat, spent, exhausted. He didn’t care. He wasn’t done yet, he wanted more. He took it.

He angled his hips up, chasing a sensation, you weren’t prepared for it. He hammered into you until his hip bones were slamming against your inner thighs with enough force to shake your entire body. His cock against your sweet spot was like a punch to the gut and you screamed. Pain, pleasure, you didn’t know anymore as your hips convulsed and jerked, clamping down on him hard enough that if he were a normal man, he wouldn’t have been able to move.

But Michael was no normal man.

He held your hips down, taking your clenching orgasm for himself as he slammed into you. Being fucked into your leg-shaking release was like being volted off of this ethereal plane and into another, your eyes whitened, your brain slowed to juddering holt as dizzying, mind-numbing ohmyfuckinggodthisfeelssogood short-circuited your entire being.

Michael slammed into you one final time, unable to withstand the vice-like grip of your velvet walls any longer before he was stilling completely, his cock an erupting volcano inside of you that spurted hot white heat against your walls, filling you utterly.

Your mouth opened in shock, or exhaustion, as your whole body trembled, jerking uncontrollably in the aftershocks.

He didn’t linger. His hands left your hips first, the bruises behind ached immediately, black and devastating to your skin where even taking a breath in bothered them. Then he snapped his hips back, swollen cock slipping free of your drenched heat, sopping with white. He let it hang there, between his legs, a stark contrast against his boiler suit, and you trembled with undignified arousal. Your cunt felt wrecked, stretched wide, forced open to accommodate him, and yet your body still somehow ached for more. No, you were terrified, fighting for your life, this wasn’t real. None of it was.

He stood, using core strength alone, leaving your legs to fall heavily to the floor. They ached where the muscles had been stretched, kicking the pain in your back and your hips into eleventh gear. You’d been twisted like a pretzel for too long. You frowned. How long had he been fucking you? It felt like no time at all, it felt like days.

You pulled your nightie down as far as it would go, scrambling your legs together despite the way they twinged. You could feel him squelching between your thighs and your untouched clit twinged pitifully.

When you gathered the courage to look up at him, you saw that he’d tucked himself away and zipped himself back up. He stood tall and menacing over you, gargantuan in your living room, his head near-touching the ceiling. He was peering down at you, that devoid mask giving nothing. The utter silence was as terrifying and deafening as any death cry.

He cocked his head ever so slightly and you winced, fight or flight response, before he was turning on his heel and heading back to the kitchen.

Terror rocked through you, vomit-inducing, head-spinning terror, and you were on your feet in a heartbeat. Your mauled insides and your ruined hips complained at you but you ignored it. They would mean nothing if you were dead. Which you were about to be. He was going for a knife, surely he was. He -

The creak of the kitchen door caught you by surprise, but it took a few long minutes for your heart to stop thudding loud enough for you to realise that he wasn’t coming back in. After a few breaths, your curiosity got the better of you and you crept into the kitchen. The back door was shut, except for the hole gaped in the glass by his fist, of course, and the kitchen was empty.

You were careful with your bare feet to avoid the shards of glass on the floor, not that it would make massive amounts of difference to your ruined body, before you shakily peered through what remained of your door.

The motion detector light was on, the street was empty.

Confusion and shame rocked through you with enough force to make you tumble and you had to grip the countertop to keep yourself upright.

How on earth were you still alive? For a second time? What did the most infamous serial killer in the country get from keeping you alive?

A hot, wet hole to come in.

You could feel the ache between your legs like Michael was still there, it was a glorious, horrible burn, trembling pleasure, irrefutable depravity - the best fuck of your life.

What did that make you?

Everything was eerily quiet. Your water bottle still sat on the side. If it weren’t for the broken door and the shards of glass, it would be easy to imagine that Michael hadn't been there at all.

Except for the warm come dribbling down your thighs where he’d marked his territory inside you. You swallowed. Whether you were his next victim or his fucktoy - you couldn’t escape that you were his. And you knew, even now, with terrifying certainty, that Michael Myers was not going to let you go.

link to chapter 3

#virginal #skeleton_detective #michael myers #halloween #michael myers x reader #fanfiction #multi chapter #pls read the tags #dark fic

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weast-of-eden · 9 months ago

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I've been thinking about how I could contribute to the ACD/Granada Sherlock Holmes fandom for a while, seeing as I'm neither an artist, a writer, or anything actually useful lol. But then I realized something I myself always treasure are curated fic recs, which I could actually do! I've read probably like 25% of all the h/w ACD and Granada fics on ao3, so I compiled a short list for anyone who is just starting out with the fandom. Without further ado, may I present

Eden’s Top Picks for Beginning ACD/Granada Fics:

(edit: i made a second list here!!)

The Adventure of the Doctor's Heart by mistyzeo 12k | Rated E Summary: Holmes has observed much of Watson's habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor's unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results. Notes: obviously if you're going to read canonverse h/w, you are going to read mistyzeo. this one is just so good and angsty and features music (!!). it's got some steaminess but it also has wooing. basically it has everything you ever need. this is my odyssey, my iliad, my hamlet, etc.

Cameo by what_alchemy 8k | Rated M | For Archive Users Only Summary: Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU. Notes: i honestly skipped over this fic for a while, since i'm not the biggest fan of soulmate aus. do not make the same mistake i did, because this shit HITS. this fic has hit after hit: soulmate-mark based case for our main duo, angst, hiatus feels, MORE ANGST, and ofc a happy ending. ugh. read this fic if you enjoy being happy.

A Tide That Does Not Turn by tweedisgood 3k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is a very bad patient with a devoted doctor who adores him. Watson wishes it was safe to speak up, but his friend is a tide that does not turn. Notes: do NOT read this if you don't like angst... ok now i'm sensing a pattern. anyways this is the first hurt/no comfort fic i read for this tag and i literally have cried more than enough tears over it. poor, poor watson :( iconic author though, read everything they write!

The Adventure of the Glad Outlaw by radondoran 7k | Rated T Summary: While Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of a student's disappearance, Dr. Watson is more puzzled by the changing dynamic between his flatmate and himself. Notes: cute pastiche! a nice little mystery and a nice little get-together. ahhhhhh.... this fic is like cotton candy to me, so sweet and fluffy. defo recommend

Hands by MinorObsessions (draculard) 1.4k | Rated T Summary: Naturally, there are some things Watson thinks about Holmes that don't make it into the books. Notes: i'm also in the star trek fandom, so if you know anything about that then you know that hands are kind of A Thing in both circles and ergo i now Have A Thing about hands. so this is a nice little ode to holmes' hands, featuring some doctoring by watson AND a nice reverse appraisal at the end. it's so sweet :)

Conductor of Light by ColebaltBlue 1.4k | Rated T Summary: A Victorian stiff upper lip won't prevent you from falling in love, but it might prevent you from realizing it. Notes: they finally get their shit together! honestly i would recommend this fic to anyone just starting out with h/w fics in any medium. the characterization and dialogue is A1, and their argument is really realistic to me, idk. also features the iconic HOUN quote for its title so props to that!

A (Mis)fortunate Man by sans_patronymic 1.5k | Rated T Summary: December, 1880. Watson writes a note which may be his last. December, 1899. Watson writes back. Notes: READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING. this was a gut-wrenching read but god i cried at the end for watson. don't worry, this one has a happy ending. ugh now i wish there was a second chapter where watson lets holmes read the letters. to sum up: oof, my heart

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner 73k | Rated E Summary: Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart. Notes: congrats, you've made it to the end!! so now i must confess that it's been a loooong time since i've read this fic, but the private note i left on my bookmark was just "holy shit", so i'm sure it's a banger. i'm also sure it has angst because i love angst and i love bookmarking angst so i can read it again and again and suffer infinitely. enjoy :)

anyways, now that i've put these all here i realized how much i enjoy angst and hurt/no comfort fics. if any of you guys have a favorite fic you want to link or want to plug your own writing, feel free to!

#i hope this is coherent #or at least helpful to someone lol #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #granada holmes #granada johnlock #acd johnlock #fic rec #acd johnlock fic rec #granada johnlock fic rec

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youbutstupid · 8 months ago

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PSA: Reid isn’t bad with technology, he just doesn’t like it

Quite often people misinterpret Reid’s dislike of technology as an inability to work it. Despite that one time when Reid messes up Garcia’s presentation, Reid is extremely competent with technology and is often who Hotch goes to where Garcia can’t help e.g. asking him to go through the unsub’s computer or asking him to examine certain phone calls (we see this a lot in season 4).

He also has degrees from MIT and CalTech and one of his doctorates is in engineering- there’s no way he could be poor with technology with this.

Reid’s dislike for technology isn’t because he is bad with it, but could be due to his upbringing. He grew up with a mum who valued old literature and old ways of doing things; in her eyes the best way to learn is to have something read to you. He was taught to value a physical presence over a virtual one; we can see this through his stacks of books in his apartment. It’d be cheaper for him to just find these things online but he values a concrete presence because his mum raised him to

Another reason why he isn’t a fan of technology could be due to his favourite book as a child which is revealed in season 2 to be a book called Empty Planet; a book which portrays technology as the root of the earth’s future destruction. Considering he read this at such an impressionable age (6) where he would be first learning what technology is, it’s understandable he’d learn to see it as an issue

A final reason could just be that physical copies of things are easier for him when trying to visualise probable patterns or connections. It could be less that he hates technology and more that he finds it inconvenient from a visual perspective

But don’t get it twisted; he isn’t bad with technology

#criminal minds #spencer reid

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actuallyadhd · 3 months ago

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can I be smart while also having adhd??

lately I've seen a video about a woman who found out she has adhd (jaiden animations) and I felt like she was reading my biography haha

I've related to every single experience she said. so that tickled my brain to go after some research about adhd, to then realize I relate to, like, 90% of the symptoms and go through the same situations as diagnosed people..

but when I brought the idea that I might have adhd to my therapist (that assists me for half a year), she told me she finds super unlikely that I have it because I am smart and get really good grades...

I feel like it's unfair to eliminate that idea just because I am good at school, even though I suffer with lots and lots of other things in my every day life...

Sent July 23, 2024

Most people who have ADHD have at least normal IQ (as problematic as IQ is as a concept and an applied idea), and there are a few patterns that can indicate ADHD in someone whose overall academic performance is good. I was a gifted student, but I still showed these patterns.

1. You do better at the start of the term than the end. My first report card was always straight A’s (except Phys. Ed., which was always a C or D which is actually ludicrous now I think about it) and by the end of the year most things were a B except for my favourite subjects.

2. Your locker or desk at school is always a disaster, making it hard to be prepared for class or to find needed items (e.g., assignments, text books).

3. The usual executive dysfunction issues, meaning you’re late for class a lot, you leave assignments until the last minute, you forget about things, etc.

Talk to your therapist again, or ask your doctor for a referral to a clinician who can do an assessment. Your therapist may not be qualified to diagnose, and they obviously aren’t well-educated about ADHD.

The other part of this is that even if you don’t qualify for a formal diagnosis, you are obviously struggling or you wouldn’t have brought it up to your therapist. What I suggest there is, talk to them about the problems you’re having rather than “ADHD”. Pick the thing that’s most frustrating right now, and ask them if they can help you figure out how to deal with it. Because no matter what, you need to manage your symptoms and you probably need help to sort out how to do that.

Followers, what do you think about this? Do you have any advice to offer?

-J

#ADHD #Actually ADHD #asks #anonymous #questioning if ADHD #diagnosis #school #medical professionals don't know everything

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wrightingdungeon · 4 months ago

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uhhhhh can you do i, v, y, and z for harvey 🥺🥺🥺

Prescribing you one dose of fluff and 2 tiny doses of angst, sorry, doctors orders

I - Intimacy: Harvey is a shy man, and it takes him quite a bit of time to warm up to people. Once you are able to get past his polite, reserved exterior, you will find that he is a romantic at heart. I mean he rented a hot air balloon for you two and cooks for you. His gestures are subtle but thoughtful. He holds doors open for you, makes sure you are served first at meals, and loves the quiet moments, like sitting together with a good book or enjoying a peaceful evening walk. —-

Leaning back on the couch, you chuckled softly at the show "The Queen of Sauce," enjoying the rare treat of a quiet evening at home. With most of your tasks and chores completed, relaxing was the one thing left to check off your list. You glanced over at Harvey on the other side of the couch, who was engrossed in his book, and hummed softly as you turned down the volume on the TV.

"What are you reading about?" you asked, leaning over to get a better look at the book he was so absorbed in.

"Wiley Post," he replied, chuckling softly as you laid your head on his lap. He looked down at you with a warm smile, his fingers gently brushing through your hair.

"Who?" you asked, barely skimming the words on the page, more wanting Harvey to tell you than to read yourself.

"A pilot who lost one of his eyes," Harvey explained, turning the page as he continued to read. His hand rested comfortably in your hair, the gentle, rhythmic motion soothing you.

"How did he do that?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. You looked up at him, momentarily forgetting about the cooking show that had previously held your attention.

"An oil drilling accident," Harvey responded, his voice soft and patient. He glanced down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "Despite that, he went on to become a famous aviator. He even set a few records for around-the-world flights."

You listened intently, captivated not just by the story, but by the way Harvey's eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about. His love for aviation was one of the many things you adored about him.

Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, the details of Wiley Post's journeys blending into a dreamy haze. Harvey's voice became a soft, melodic background, like a lullaby coaxing you into slumber. The warmth of his lap and the tender strokes of his hand on your hair were all you needed to feel utterly at peace.

Harvey continued to speak, his voice a comforting murmur as he described Post’s solo flights and the challenges he faced. You could feel the weight of the day lifting from your shoulders, each word he spoke enveloping you in a sense of calm. His fingers threaded through your hair in a slow, deliberate pattern, their touch as soothing as the words he was saying.

The more he talked, the more you felt yourself drifting. You could barely keep your eyes open, each blink lasting a little longer than the last. The world around you began to blur, the edges softening as Harvey’s hand continued its gentle movement through your hair. You took a deep breath, the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the comforting smell of home, wrapping you in a blanket of tranquility.

The room seemed to grow quieter, the only sounds were the occasional crackle from the TV and the soft cadence of Harvey's voice. You felt yourself being pulled into a warm, inviting darkness, the last thing you remembered being the feel of Harvey’s hand in your hair and the sound of his gentle laughter and him whispering. “Sleep well.”

You drifted off completely, enveloped in the peace and security of Harvey, knowing that you were exactly where you needed to be.

V - Vulnerability: Harvey feels most vulnerable when you are hurt. Yes, it's a cliché, but no one really discusses the ethical dilemma a doctor endures when having to work on their own partner. As the only doctor in town, Harvey must balance his professional responsibilities with his personal feelings. In the medical field, it’s a big no-no to work on loved ones, yet Harvey has no choice if you come in very injured. Maru is only a nurse; while she knows some things, the critical emergencies fall on Harvey's shoulders.

his vulnerability is most apparent in these moments. He’s forced to compartmentalize his emotions, pushing down his fear and sorrow to perform his duties. After the crisis, when the immediate danger has passed, and he finally allows himself to feel, the emotional floodgates open. He might retreat to his office or a quiet corner, where the weight of what he’s just endured crashes over him. He feels the overwhelming relief that you’re safe mingled with the residual terror of how close he came to losing you. —-

Harvey sat on the floor, the cold from the white tile seeping up through his pants, chilling his legs, helping to ground him for a moment. He stared at his shoes, the only sounds he made were his ragged breathing and the wet blinks as he tried to clear his eyes. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood that still lingered from the surgery.

Marlon had found you deep in the mines and brought you to him. You were rough—more than rough. Your body was covered in bloody cuts, and deep bruises, each wound telling a story of the battle you endured. Harvey had no idea what to do, his body and mind falling into a freeze response. He felt paralyzed, his medical training momentarily forgotten as sheer panic gripped him. He was lucky Maru was there to help snap him out of it.

He looked over at Maru as she sat in his swivel chair, her head held low. She had been by his side the whole surgery, working tirelessly to help stabilize you and reminding Harvey that he needed to be professional for your sake. Her hands were still stained with your blood, and the exhaustion in her eyes mirrored his own.

His eyes trailed back up to you lying on the surgery table, eyes closed, looking peaceful yet battered. Your chest rose and fell steadily, a sign that the worst was over, but the sight of your injuries made his heartache. The memory of your lifeless form being carried in by Marlon played on a loop in his mind, a nightmare he couldn't escape.

His tears started to flow freely, a sob ripping out of his throat as he pulled his knees to his chest. The weight of the day’s events crashed down on him, leaving him feeling helpless and overwhelmed. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, and the fear of what could have happened gnawed at his soul.

He remembered the first time he met you, how your smile had lit up the clinic, and the countless moments you had shared since then. The thought of never seeing that smile again was unbearable. Harvey's shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, the emotional toll of the day finally breaking through his composed exterior.

Maru stood up quickly and walked over to him, kneeling before him and wrapping her arms around him gently, careful not to get her blood-stained hands on him. "It's over now, they're okay. They're okay," she whispered weakly, her voice showing how tired she was.

Harvey leaned into her embrace, finding some comfort in her presence. "I was so scared, Maru," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I… I thought I might lose them. I couldn’t bear the thought..."

"I know," she replied softly, stroking his back soothingly with her arm. "But we did it. They're going to be alright."

Her words soothed his heartache slightly, but the fear and worry were not entirely gone. "It was so close," he murmured. "I kept thinking about... I don’t know how… how I could face losing them."

Maru tightened her hold on him. "You didn’t lose them," she said firmly. "They’re here, they’re stable."

Harvey nodded, taking a deep, shuddering breath as he tried to steady himself. He wiped his tears away, his hands still trembling slightly. "Thank you, Maru…”

Z - Zilch: One thing Harvey has zero tolerance for is neglecting your health. He’s deeply invested in your well-being, both as a doctor and someone who genuinely cares about you. When he discovers the extent to which you’ve been mistreating your body—pushing yourself to the brink with back-breaking work, consuming ungodly excessive amounts of caffeine, and only eating when you’re on the verge of collapse—he takes immediate action.

Harvey won't stand by idly while you jeopardize your health. He insists on a complete overhaul of your routine, ensuring you rest properly and eat at regular intervals. He stays up late, anxiously waiting for you to return home. He doesn't allow you to brush off his worries or ignore his advice. Instead, he meticulously checks you over, from head to toe, ensuring there are no lingering issues, as well as making sure you’re cleaned up and cared for properly. —-

Carefully shutting the front door behind you, you let out a small sigh of relief upon seeing that Harvey wasn’t sitting on the couch, waiting for you. While you appreciated his care, it often felt like he was pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion with his worry for you.

Kicking off your mud-caked boots, and hanging up your bag, the feeling of ache of your day's in every movement. Your joints creaked with fatigue, echoing the exhaustion you felt deep inside. You shuffled toward the bedroom, and with a soft, almost hesitant motion, you eased open the bedroom door, hoping to find Harvey peacefully asleep.

As you peered inside, a nervous smile touched your lips when you saw Harvey lift his gaze from his book. The surprise in his eyes quickly transformed into a deep, palpable concern. His eyebrows drew together in a frown, and he set his book aside with a deliberate, almost frantic urgency. “What’s that?” he asked, his voice a mix of worry and curiosity, tinged with the softest edge of frustration as he started to rise from his chair.

You couldn’t help but glance down at your arm, where a large, deep cut looked back at you. The sight of it made you wince involuntarily, and you instinctively tried to shield it from his view, hiding it behind your back. “Nothing, hun,” you said with a strained laugh, attempting to downplay the severity of the situation as you made a clumsy attempt to sidestep him and head toward the bathroom.

But just as you thought you might escape his scrutiny, you felt Harvey’s hands gently but firmly grasp your hips, his touch both grounding and insistent. His fingers were warm and steady, and his gaze was unwavering as he gently guided you back toward him. “Stop,” he said softly but with an unyielding firmness. “Let me see.”

There was no mistaking the depth of his concern, and you knew that any attempt to brush off his worry would be met with resolute insistence. Looking back at him, you saw his eyes locked onto yours, filled with worry. With a resigned sigh, you turned to face him fully, understanding that there was no reason to resist him.

Harvey’s hands were tender yet thorough as he examined the injury on your arm. His touch was careful as if he was afraid to cause you any further discomfort. “What happened?” he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern as he guided you towards the bathroom. “I… Uh missed a block…” you said softly, your gaze falling to the bathmat as you sat on the edge of the tub.

He retrieved the first aid kit from under the sink, the soft rustling of its contents filling the otherwise quiet room. Harvey’s sighed out of his nose, his frustration with the situation showing. As he opened the kit, his eyes remained focused on your arm, each glance reflecting the depth of his concern. The usual calmness in his demeanor was now tinged with an edge of anxiety.

Harvey began to clean the wound with meticulous care, his hands moving with a practiced gentleness. The antiseptic stung slightly, but he worked with a soothing, steady touch, trying to work quickly but diligently. The room was quiet, punctuated only by the soft sounds of his movements and the occasional rustle of the first aid supplies.

As he carefully applied the bandage, his brow remained furrowed. “I… I need you to be more careful,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying the weight of his concern. “You push yourself too hard, and it worries me.” His eyes now met yours, and the gentle pleading in them was impossible to ignore.

“Harvey—” you started, but he cut you off by cupping your face in his hands, ensuring that your eyes met his.

“Please, I love you,” he said softly but with an undeniable urgency. “I can’t stand seeing you like this. You’re burning yourself out, and it’s taking a toll on you. I need you to take care of yourself—for you, and for me.”

His words, filled with earnestness and affection, wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. The sincerity in his voice and the intensity of his gaze made it clear how deeply he felt about your well-being. You nodded slowly, feeling a swell of gratitude and emotion. “I understand,” you said softly. “I’ll try to be better about it, ok.”

Harvey’s expression softened, and he pulled you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. “That’s all I ask,” he murmured into your hair, as he gently rubbed your back.

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icyg4l · 2 months ago

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PAC: Is This Relationship Salvageable?

Hello beautiful people! I know I said that I wanted to upload this last night but I honestly forgot about it lol. Today’s topic will be for those who are deciding on whether or not they should save a relationship. This could be a familial, platonic or romantic relationship. This reading is inspired by real life events. As we enter a new season, some of us will be going through physical and spiritual upgrades, which means that some people will stay and others will go. Sometimes we have to learn to leave people behind. In other instances, we have let go of our egos and face the music. Also, if you would like to book a personal reading with me, I will leave the link to book here & my guidelines here as well. Personal readings are officially open until further notice! Now without further ado, please select your pile to find out whether or not your relationship is meant to be salvaged!

TW: mentions of abuse & addiction

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-6)

Pile One: Some things are better left unsaid. This relationship feels romantic, but not exactly. Perhaps a fling that turned into something serious but wasn’t supposed to be serious. Maybe you are in a year’s long situationship.. Free you my heart. It’s definitely time for you to let go of this person. I heard predator and prey. This person is sneaky and selfish. They will do whatever to keep you around them for the money that you have. Your financial resources/benefits are the only reason why they keep you around. The sex is a factor too, but you could get good sex anywhere. You could have recently got a promotion or got hired at a new job where you will be making more money. This person could either be buttering you up a lot right now & it’s become an annoyance to you, or this person could also be starting fights with you. Either way, they are jealous of what you have going on. If you do not get rid of this person, they will end up sabotaging your finances. So please, move accordingly. Move like you got some sense. You know what this person is capable of. Don’t be blinded by the history that you have with this person. Use your pattern recognition to help you recognize the toxicity that they bring into your life. You are not making the wrong decision by kicking them to the curb.

Cards Used: 6 of Swords, 8 of Cups, 5 of Wands, 4 of Discs (RX), The Magician (RX), The Hierophant, King of Wands

extras: jody and yvette. cardi b and offset. “the lies! the lies!” “money don’t grow on trees.” hobosexual. unfolded laundry. aura cleansing. user. polly pocket dolls. collector’s edition. birthday gift.

Pile Two: I feel like this pile struggles with addiction or some type of trauma that is not so hidden. I feel like this trauma has affected your reputation, but the person you are asking about has stuck by your side. I do not think that you and this person can’t make up. Some things were said that you didn’t really mean. In the heat of the moment, you just said whatever to make them feel bad. I think that this relationship can be rekindled, but there needs to be a cool off period. This person could be your mentor, sponsor, friend, etc. This person has seen you at your lowest and right now, you could possibly be at a low point right now. This person is very empathetic and knows exactly what you’re going through but dealing with your mood swings can be draining. If you’re going to put in the work to better yourself, then do it. Words without work are just broken promises. If you need to go on medication, then contact your doctor and do that. Get to the root of the problem, Pile Two. If the roles are reversed, just know that you cannot save everyone! This person is just as grown as you are. At some point they have to mature, so let them do that. Focus on yourself for the time being. As time goes on, you two will have a better relationship but the dynamic will be different (in a good way).

Cards Used: Ace of Wands, Princess of Cups, 4 of Cups, The Devil, Death, 4 of Swords, 8 of Discs.

extras: rue and ali. piscean energy. failed test. please please please by sabrina carpenter. struggles. drinker at parties. PDA. “rinky dink.” molly. seinfeld. just dance. dancing with the devil.

Pile Three: You and this person have been in each other’s company for a long time. However, it seems that you two need to go on separate piles in order to grow. You will miss this person a lot. You may even run into this person a couple of times but hey you have to do what you have to do. Whenever you two do make up, you two will click like nothing ever happened. This could be a best friend or a lover, maybe even a cousin if you are close to them. You have known this person for a long time. Sometimes you need space from these kinds of people because at the time, you may be outgrowing them. But it’s like that one pair of pants in your closet, you can’t just get rid of them. You’ll always come back to them when you lose weight or gain weight. You’ll always come back to your person! There is a deep soul connection that you have with this person, which is why it’s hard to let go of them. But it is very well-needed. Focus on yourself. Your future is bright and so is theirs. Learn to create and enjoy a life outside of them.

Cards Used: 7 of Wands, 10 of Discs, 6 of Cups, 5 of Cups, 8 of Wands, 2 of Swords, 8 of Cups.

extras: lawrence and issa. raw indian hair. shark tales. squeeze. great rapport. miley and lily.

Pile Four: If you feel like the connection is one-sided, then please do not hesitate to drop this person. It feels like this person isn’t necessary in your life. They’re not meant to be in your circle. Perhaps, they could be your associate. I don’t believe this person is as close to you as they once were. This does not mean that you have beef with this person. It just feels like you need to decenter them. They are doing their own thing and you need to start. You will not be close with everyone that you come across and that’s okay. There’s no long conversation that needs to be had. You just need to accept things as they are. Find people that are on the same wavelength as you, Pile Four. You can reach out to this person and they will reply, but the conversations are likely going to be brief. However, there’s no hard feelings. Just be ready to adjust the energy for this person in your life. Reciprocation is something that you are looking for, and does not lie within them anymore. It is somewhere else.

Cards Used: 2 of Wands, Prince of Swords, 4 of Swords, The Hermit, 6 of Wands, The Hanged Man, 4 of Cups,

extras: hidden jealousy. unanswered texts and calls. turtles. salamander.

Pile Five: Right now, you’re leveling up. A lot of the things you used to do, the places you used to enjoy going to, the people you used to be close with are not resonating with you anymore. It’s a time of maturity for you. Those who understand that will be empathetic to that, especially if you have recently become a parent. But those who cannot accept the fact that you are changing will simply have to be kissed goodbye. You could be converting to a different faith, going through a dark night of the soul, or you could be grieving. You could be known for being a party animal. You could be known for being a fighter. You could be known for having lots of sex. It’s okay to change, but what’s not okay is expecting people to stay the same for your comfort level. The person/people constantly expecting you to be your past self need to kick rocks. Those are not your kind of people anymore. It doesn't matter how long you have known them for. It doesn't even matter if this is your own mother/family member. You have to put yourself first and they’re just going to have to deal with that! You cannot control the reactions of other people. You can only control how you react.

Cards Used: 5 of Swords, 7 of Wands, The Emperor, Knight of Wands, 6 of Discs, 3 of Discs.

extras: healer. no hard feelings. moving boxes. man in the mirror. picking up new hobbies. “working on my aura.” journaling daily. freedom. changes ahead.

Pile Six: This feels very twin flame-ish. Right now, you may feel embarrassed, maybe even helpless. You could be on the receiving end of someone’s callous/cold behavior. But yet, you still feel tied to them. Baby, it’s time to do a cord cutting ritual and be done with it. It’s time for you to explore some different connections. Your energy is similar to Pile One, but this is a spiritual connection rather than a material connection. Your twin flame will get what they are owed. It is not right that they continue to get away with treating you wrong & being sneaky behind your back. When someone shows you who they are the first time, BELIEVE THEM! Don’t fall for their bullshit again. You know better. “Fool me one time, shame on you” is what I heard. Be ready to find some new hobbies, babe. You’re going to need them.

Cards Used: Ace of Swords, Ten of Swords (RX), The Fool, The Devil, The Magician, Justice, Judgment (RX), 7 of Discs.

extras: new underwear. stocky. lavender. clues. body language. divas. stephanie mcmahon. goofball. hand sanitizer. in need of new lip gloss. stressors. working the late shift. catching z’s.

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space-mermaid-writing · 25 days ago

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A bat experience

Relationship: Tony Stark / Stephen Strange

Tags: Vampire Stephen Strange, Cursed Stephen Strange, Humor, Fluff, Established Relationship, Supreme family, Magic mishap

Author's note: I blame @darkkitty1208 for this. She showed me a picture of a vase and put this idea into my mind. My contribution for @harpywritesfic's vampire themed birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Beta by my trusted @kvjjjjjj HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!

Ko-fi | Read it on AO3 | More vampire Stephen| Word count: 1.5k

Peter’s eyes followed the zig-zag flight pattern of the little bat. “I didn’t know Doctor Strange could do that,” he admitted in awe.

“Oh, no. That’s new,” Wong said. “He got cursed two days ago, and now he can’t change back.”

“Cursed?” Peter’s eyes widened. “But he looks adorable.”

The bat screeched.

It would have made so much more sense if turning into a bat was part of Strange's vampire powers. Sure, it was a fictional cliche, but some fictional cliches were indeed true.

Although, Peter was sure he would have known by now if this particular skill was part of Doctor Strange’s powers. After all Strange was dating his mentor slash father figure.

Doctor Strange had even become an additional father figure to him during this time. A currently very small, and flying father figure.

“Will he become human again? I mean, a vampire? With arms and legs. Vampire arm and legs.” Peter asked the sorcerer.

“We are working on that.”

It would be easier for them if Stephen was able to help with the research. But the bat had been banned from the library after his last attempt to read an ancient tome had resulted in an accident in which he clawed through several pages.

Wong had not yet forgiven him for that.

“Why are you here anyway?” Wong asked the boy, raising his eyebrows in suspicion. Peter had strolled in for no apparent reason, his backpack slung over his shoulders.

“It’s Wednesday,” Peter said as if that explained everything. There was a pause as Wong waited for more. So Peter added, “I always swing by Wednesdays to do my homework while Doctor Strange reads.”

Since Peter had quite the habit of talking while he was working – he really took after Tony – more often than not Stephen put his own book aside and just had a conversation with the boy. Sometimes he even helped with the homework.

The vampire didn’t seem to mind the interruption. On the contrary, he had prompted Peter to turn the occasional visit into a weekly fixed routine.

“Well, as you see, Stephen is unavailable today.”

Peter pouted, making Wong sigh, defeated.

“But you can use the library for your studies if you want.”

“Can Doctor Strange join me?”

Wong didn’t give in. “Absolutely not.”

Peter’s pout deepened but Wong was one of the few people who could still resist it. At least partly.

The teenager strolled up the stairs, his phone in his hand, texting.

Wong turned back to Stephen, who hung upside down from a wooden beam at the ceiling.

“You are being unreasonable,” he told his friend.

The sorcerer was pretty sure the screech that followed was an insult, but he had no way to prove that.

______

The noises died down after that. It was never completely quiet in the Sanctum; there was always something going on that would reach the ear - whether it was students arriving or leaving, the woosh of the cloak, or the low hum of magic in the background.

Still, it felt peaceful.

It lasted about half an hour. Then, the Sanctum’s door was yanked open with force.

“Where is he?!”

A worried, almost frantic Tony Stark stood in the door. His eyes darted around as if he was expecting someone to jump at him.

His behavior would be alarming on any other day. But today, Wong, who had heard Stark even in the kitchen, had a pretty good guess what had the Avenger upset.

He walked out of the kitchen and into the big entrance hall. Without a word, he pointed at a vase on an ancient-looking dresser.

It looked like a regular vase, the perfect size for a big bouquet of flowers. It was green-ish with a mostly black pattern which remotely looked like edgy flowers in a field.

Nothing remarkable.

However, Tony knew there was hardly anything regular in the Sanctum. Not even some of the doorknobs were regular – he had learned that the hard way.

Having that experience etched in his mind, he moved closer to the vase. Frowning, he peeked inside. It was pitch black.

“Stephen? Can you hear me?” He almost yelled into it. There was no way a grown man could physically fit in this thing. In conclusion, it must be some magic shit, like a soul captured or an aura stored away. “I’m here, bab-”

Something small and furry shot out of the vase and right into Tony’s face, screeching. Tony shrieked in surprise, trying to get it off.

It was small but had sharp claws that dragged over his skin.

Tony cursed. Finally, he managed to snatch the little thing and held it in his hands. He was surprised to find a bat, panting heavily.

Tony stared at it. Then he looked up to Wong, who had watched the whole thing unimpressed. Tony looked at the vase. Then back down at the bat.

He was putting two and two together.

No way…

“That’s…” he started but the sentence seemed too ridiculous to finish.

Yet, Wong confirmed it. “Yes.”

“The curse turned him into a bat?”

“Unfortunately.” Wong tilted his head. “How do you even know about the curse?”

Peter answered that question, suddenly standing at the upper end of the staircase. “I texted him.”

The teenager was still on his phone.

Tony’s pocket made a low chime noise. It was probably another reaction gif from Peter. He loved to send them.

Wong needed a break. “Have you finished your homework yet?”

Finally, Peter looked up. “No.”

“Go back to the library,” Wong and Tony told him at the same time.

Peter pouted but sauntered away.

Tony watched the bat, who had calmed down, and approached his boyfriend slowly.

“Why did he just attack me?” the engineer asked. Did Stephen forget who he was? Did he have the mind of a beast?

The answer was far more simple.

“Because bats are neither blind nor deaf. He probably didn’t like it when you yelled into the small space he hid in, and that amplifies your voice even more.”

Stephen flapped his wings, agreeing with a chirp.

Tony winced.

“Sorry.” He lowered his voice to a stage whisper.

With his finger, he brushed Stephen’s soft fur. The bat was actually really cute.

Stephen climbed onto his finger and curled his long toes around it. Tony raised his hand and the bat hung upside down from it. He barely felt the claws, they were more like small pressure points.

Adorable.

“We are looking for a way to break the curse but in the meantime, there’s little else we can do besides making sure he is safe.”

Stephen’s small bat size was problematic since it was easy to overlook him. It made him prone to accidents, like getting crushed in his tiny body.

“What about his regular condition? Did that change?”

“He is still a vampire. Which makes it easier to feed him but complicated in breaking the curse.”

Of course. Stephen was known for complicating things.

By now Tony had calmed down as well. He knew all the facts now, and had convinced himself with his own eyes that nothing truly dangerous had happened to his mate.

Honestly, this wasn’t even the weirdest shit the sorcerer had gotten himself into since Tony met him.

“I’ll look after him while you work on getting him back,” he reassured Wong.

The sorcerer nodded, actually looking relieved at the offer. He left to get his tea and then return to his research.

Tony climbed up the stairs and walked to Stephen’s room. He had a Starkpad there that he could use to entertain himself and Stephen.

It made him think of something else.

“When was the last time you ate? Are you hungry?”

He offered his wrist to the bat.

After a brief consideration, Stephen lapped onto it, his small black eyes glowing red for a second – that was the only sign so far that this bat was not a normal animal.

When the tiny teeth broke his skin it felt like the prick of a needle, the pain gone just as fast.

Tony was used to Stephen drinking off him, but this time felt different. Normally it was an intimate gesture. It had to do with the fact that they were also lovers. Tony knew that for other people it was different, sometimes nothing more than a business transaction.

Now it was just… over in an instant. The small body didn’t need much blood; no more than a few mouthfuls.

Afterwards, Stephen rubbed the soft fur of his head against Tony’s thumb as if to thank him. Then he spread his wings and took to the air, moving in a zigzag pattern as if he were drunk.

Back into Tony’s hair.

“No. Absolutely not, you little menace.”

Tony scooped him out of his hair before Stephen could get too comfortable.

Stephen complained loudly and slipped out of his hand to claw at Tony's shirt, with mediocre success. He slid down – right into Tony’s breast pocket.

The engineer glanced inside and watched the bat wiggling around, but not trying to get out. Instead, he settled against the warmth of Tony’s chest, chirping happily.

Tony sighed dramatically to cover up a smile.

“Fine. I guess you can stay in there for a while.”

#ironstrange #doctor strange #stephen strange #tony stark #Vampire Stephen Strange #marvel #mcu #spacemermaid #stephen strange x tony stark #supreme family

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writing-with-sophia · 10 months ago

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How to get into the mind of a character? Honestly this can be for your OWN character or a fictional character. I'm wanting to write for characters- headcanons and fanfictions- and I'm so afraid I'll write them so uncanny to how they actually are.

How to get into the mind of a character?

To get into the mind of a character, you have to understand that character, believe in that character, and even "live" the character's life. But we all know each individual is different, and we cannot live different lives. A normal person who grew up in peacetime cannot fully understand the hardships of a warrior, and a doctor cannot know the thoughts of a mafia boss.

So, how can writers create believable characters? How can they possibly offer a believable soldier, cop, detective, alcoholic, or any given character type if they themselves haven't lived as them? How can they possibly offer a believable character in a situation that they've never been in?

Here are some tips you can use to get into the minds of characters:

Tip 1: Observe real-life people

To create well-rounded characters, observe real people around you. Pay attention to their behaviors, mannerisms, speech patterns, and thought processes. Take note of how they express emotions, handle conflicts, and make decisions. Drawing from real-life observations can add depth and authenticity to your characters. You can also search for novels and movies with different themes, study how characters with different pasts, biographies, occupations, and personalities act, behave, gesture, and speak. The best way is to prepare a small notebook and a pen so you can carry it with you wherever you go.

Tip 2: Create a detailed character profile

Develop a detailed character profile that includes information such as their age, background, beliefs, values, goals, and fears. Consider their relationships with other characters and how these dynamics influence their thoughts and actions. Delve into the character's past and explore significant events that have shaped them. Consider their upbringing, traumas, successes, and failures. These can provide you with a roadmap for understanding the character's mindset.

Tip 3: Use internal monologues and journaling

Imagine the character's internal thoughts and dialogues with themselves. Consider what they might be thinking in different situations, their hopes, dreams, and fears. (And why do they dream of that? Why are they afraid of that thing? What in the past made them afraid? Always asking questions.) Writing internal monologues or journal entries from the character's perspective can help you delve into their mindset and gain insight into their unique voice.

Tip 4: Consider their external influences

Characters are influenced by their environment, culture, and society. Reflect on how external factors such as family, friends, societal norms, or even the story's setting impact their thoughts and behaviors. This will help you portray their worldview more accurately.

Tip 5: Study the source material

If you're writing about an existing character from a book, TV show, or movie, immerse yourself in the source material. Pay attention to their dialogue, actions, and interactions with other characters. Take note of their personality traits, motivations, and backstory. This will help you develop a strong foundation for understanding the character. For example, recently I suddenly became interested in Nightwing (do you know him? Nightwing from the Batman series!), and I wanted to write a few short stories about him. So I found all the comics and movies that featured Nightwing and watched them one by one. I don't take notes because I have a pretty good memory (especially for characters I like), but I still recommend taking notes on special things to note.

Tip 6: Practice free writing

Set aside time for free writing exercises where you write from the character's point of view. Allow your thoughts to flow without judgment or editing. Just write, write, and write. You can reread and make corrections after you're done. Remember to gather your posts in one place; otherwise, you'll lose or forget them (like me!).

Getting into the mind of a character is an ongoing process that requires continuous exploration and refinement. The more you invest in understanding your character's thoughts, feelings, and motivations, the more compelling and authentic your writing will become.

Additionally, you can read my articles on how to write an effective character here:

How to create a superbad villain

How to make a villain's appearance memorable

Basic questions for your character

Describing a villain's appearance in a natural way

Create an effectively past for character

Common character motivations

How to create a good main character

How to avoid the instance where a secondary character stands out more/ is more lovable?

Character flaws

Writing a good Anti-Hero

Character positive traits

How to write an elderly main character?

Protagonist who is a ballerina

How to write a believeable egotistical character

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