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#algebraic curves
bubbloquacious · 2 years
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Very sorry to report that the math I'm learning this semester may have some Applications
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baba-the-yagaa · 10 months
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Explaining a beautiful mathematical concept and the person asks for the real world application like bitch first off the real world application is it makes me personally ecstatic and second it doesn't need one because it's my special little princess concept
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riemmetric · 4 months
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One frustrating thing about being a mathematician is that people who aren't into math heard that Einstein quote that's like "you haven't understood something unless you can explain it in layman's terms" and use it to mean "if it can't be explained to me in five minutes it's needlessly complicated, this person is a pretentious snob and academia is gatekeeping knowledge". And like everything in life, the matter of scientists not being able to/not caring to explain their work to people who aren't at the same level of expertise as them is a complex one that is worthy of being discussed, but here's the thing that you have to keep in mind if you haven't done math since high school:
the further you get into math, the more specialized your field becomes. You start working of puzzles that are small, but fit into a greater web of similar problems, like knitting a beautiful flower that's meant to be incorporated into a huge quilt. And all of math is build on top of each other, so you can't get to the most interesting, current math being discussed in the world without getting through the building blocks that are taught to you in elementary school, high school and the university.
You ask me to explain my thesis to you and I can tell you the title, but you won't know what the main words in it mean. And that's not because you are stupid, that's just because to learn that word you have to spend time learning a hundred others. I love math, it's my favourite thing in the universe and I always have time to talk about it, so if you want, we can sit down and I'll tell you everything you need to know to understand what I'm currently working on. You can ask me questions and I will reformulate, you can ask me to go over things again and I will oblige. With your permission, I will get a piece of paper and draw shapes and schemes to help us, but it won't take five minutes. It can't take just five minutes. That is a concession you will have to make if you truly want to learn.
(Unfortunately, I don't want to disclose the title of my thesis on tunglr dot hell, because it's super specific and I don't feel like doxxing myself. But I hope this resonates with some people. I work both in symplectic geometry and Riemannian geometry, and I have to say between the two Riemannian is a little bit easier to explain, because I can just talk about distances, but symplectic geometry or Lie groups... I'm afraid I just can't explain those in a sentence because they rely on people knowing what differentiation means, and that's not knowledge you necessarily retain if you work outside a stem field. Explaining that in a few sentences would eat up the whole five minutes).
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klavierpanda · 1 year
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3 exams down, 5 to go
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imaginarycircus · 1 year
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I'm over here banging on my mathematical drum again. I left a comment on the article bc I got overexcited about the Greeks and Newton again.
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supernovaa-remnant · 7 months
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astronomy is my passion but calc... calc is my enemy
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jurisffiction · 2 years
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thinking about her (the witch if agnesi)
well thank god one of us is
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sciencesolutions · 2 years
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bubbloquacious · 2 years
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I think I'm soooo funny
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nemfrog · 2 months
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An algebraic equation yields a modernist shape. Plane algebraic curves. 1920.
Internet Archive
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jockbroski34 · 4 months
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New Blood (Chapter 1)
This is my first TF story. I hope you enjoy and I have plenty of other ideas I've come up with for future stories.
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I would’ve been surprised if you told me how my first day at my new school turned out. My dad was transferred to a different branch at the job he worked at, so we were forced to move to a different state. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss my old town, but it’s not like I was that close with most of the people I went to school with anyways. On the bright side, being transferred to a new high school gives me the chance to start fresh and make some new friends. Little did I know how right I really was.
The first day started out about as boring as you could imagine. The teachers reciting the syllabus, introducing ourselves to the class, the usual mundane activities expected for the first day. However, all of that changed during 3th period. It was algebra, and normally I could care less. But it wasn’t the class that caught my attention, hell no. Class started as usual. The class was packed full of students, with nearly every seat taken. About 3 minutes into the class, class was interrupted by an opened door and a large figure.
He must’ve been 6’3”, making me who is 5’10" look like someone who hadn’t hit his growth spurt in comparison. His brunette hair, short and spiked with the sides shaved, helped to accentuate his angular face and his alluring emerald green eyes. He wore a football shirt that fit snugly against his chest and his bulky biceps bulged out of the sleeves. His thick thighs made his jeans a tight fit. They could definitely crush a watermelon. Perhaps even my face, I thought, as I admired the handsome man.
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“Sorry I was late, bro. Just got out late from my meeting with Coach”, the stud said, in a nonchalant, baritone voice. He sounded like your stereotypical jock.
“Don’t make this a regular thing, ‘bro’” our teacher grumbled. “I know you’re the team captain, but it doesn’t mean you can just barge in while I’m teaching.”
“Relax, dude. It’s just a one time thing.” he responded. Looks like he’s the big man on campus. He sure didn’t seem to care that he was late on the first day of school.
The giant scanned the room looking for a place to sit. First the right end of the room, then the middle, and then he looked towards the left, where I sat, and conveniently at the empty desk adjacent to me. For a split second, our eyes were staring right at each other, but my gaze veered the other direction out of embarrassment. The jock’s lips curved into a slight smirk as he began to walk into the rows of desks, accidentally bumping me with his massive size 15 foot.
“Sorry bro”, he said as he placed himself in the seat next to me. His nice round ass stood out to me as he made himself comfortable.
The class continued on as normal, but for some reason, I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could before. The beefcake next to me kept my mind preoccupied. He was the most attractive guy I’ve seen so far at this school, and I couldn’t help but be distracted by his perfect body. His toned body glistened, likely from the sweat of a morning jog, and I noticed a slight scent that affirmed that. I normally found the smell of sweat to be a little disgusting, but for him, it seemed to mix well with his natural aroma. The scent of a man.
“No. If a guy like him finds out that you’re gay, you’ll never hear the end of it,” I scolded myself in my head. I could already imagine myself being harassed by him and his meathead friends.
Strangely enough, just as I had been looking at him, I also felt like I was being watched as well. I must have been imagining things. I wouldn’t call myself unattractive, but I never caught the attention of other guys…let alone girls.
The teacher finished up with the material sooner than expected, so he stopped teaching for the rest of class until the bell rang. With about 10 minutes to spare before my next class, I reached into my pocket to grab my phone to kill time, but then I heard that same voice from before.
“Sup bro,” the hunk next to me greeted me. “I’ve never seen you before. You new here?”
This guy was talking to me. Wait, why was he talking to me? I was incredibly caught off guard, but I decided to play it cool and hide my embarrassment.
“Yeah, my name’s Jacob. My parents just moved into town the other week and now I’m here.”
“Damn, that sucks, but I hope you like it here. Nice to meet you Jacob. I’m Zach. You mind if I call you Jake for short?”
Most people called me by Jacob and I preferred it like that, but for him, I didn’t really mind.
“Sure, nice to meet you too,” I responded. He reached out his hand to shake mine, but my hand felt small engulfed in his meaty palms.
We spent the remaining time in class getting to know each other. The more I talked with Zach, the more I realized how we were basically complete opposites. He was as I expected, a stereotypical jock, only interested in sports and going to the gym and I was anything but that. I could tell through his attitude that he was full of confidence, maybe even bordering on arrogance, but he still seemed rather agreeable. Despite our obvious differences, we actually got along surprisingly well. I expected him to be some brute, some bully, but he was actually a pretty fun, chill guy. He actually gave me his number too. The bell rang and we both packed up our supplies into our backpacks.
“Hey man, so where’s your next class?” Zach asked.
“Room 214. Must be on the second floor,” I replied.
“Oh cool. I’m actually headed that way too. Don’t worry, I know this school like the back of my hand!”
We walked up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway.
“Hey, so lunch is coming up and I don’t know if you have anywhere to sit yet,” Zach inquired.
I had completely forgotten about lunch. At my old school, it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit by myself. I was the kind of guy who didn’t really mesh well with any crowd and I had few close friends.
“I don’t, why?” I responded.
“I just figured that because you’re new, you might want somewhere to sit. You can come sit with us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, the guys on the team are cool. I doubt they’d mind since you know me.” I imagined myself feeling out of place amongst the burly football jocks. Still, it was better than nothing.
“I might take you up on that offer,” I replied.
“Great, bro!” Zach smiled. His bright grin was contagious, and I felt a smile on my face as well. “I hope to see you there.” He patted me on the shoulder with his firm hands before we parted ways. Our classrooms, however, were conveniently right next to each other.
I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could during 3rd period. Thoughts of early US history blurred in my mind as the image of Zach lingered. Why was he being so nice to me of all people? Despite my curiosity, I started to think of him as a friend. For some reason, I felt myself drawn to him.
After an eternity, the bell rang for lunch, and I walked to the cafeteria. I got lost on the way there, as I was still unfamiliar with the layout of the building. As I walked past each table, I felt the impression that I was an outsider. Most tables were full of students, with few seats left open for me. It was like everyone else already knew each other, and that there was no place for me. Until I heard that voice again.
“Yo, Jake!” Zach shouted, his words breaking through the endless sea of mindless chatter. I turned my head to the right and saw him and several other members of the football team at a large table. How did I miss it? It’s a big table for big guys. “Did you get lost or something?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Sorry about that, bro. Come sit down!” He moved over, giving me room to squeeze in. He introduced me to the team, and it seems like he already told them about me, so they were eager to meet me. I recognized one person from my previous class.
“You’re…Bradley right?” I asked.
“Yeah, but call me Brad. No one except my brother calls me that anymore.” he answered. He wasn’t as tall as Zach, standing at a respectable and exact 6 feet tall. He was, however, a lot bulkier than Zach, who was more toned in comparison, but he wasn’t fat. His hair was shaved into a short blonde buzzcut and he had deep blue eyes. I recalled him falling asleep for a bit during last class. The bro must not have gotten enough sleep last night.
Zach, Brad, and the other guys talked about sports and working out after class, and other stuff that a stereotypical jock would talk about. I did my best to include myself in the conversation, but I felt kinda lost keeping up and I felt like a bit of a poser compared to them. I knew only basic level sports knowledge and I had never lifted a weight in my life. If only I was more like them.
Despite that, I actually got along with them better than I expected, and I was glad to know that they were more like Zach than I had anticipated. They did make fun of me for not knowing certain players or who won the game last night. However, I didn’t get the impression that it was malicious, but rather more playful, like how one would joke around with his bros. Even though I clearly looked and felt out of place, I found myself enjoying their company and I tried to absorb whatever knowledge the jocks discussed like a sponge. What felt like an entire day of hanging with the bros was only half an hour as the bell rang and the crowd of students emptied the cafeteria to depart for their next class. I said my farewells to Zach’s friends and made my way to my next class. Zach, instead of staying with his fellow teammates, pursued me and joined me, walking at my side.
“Hey, thanks for sitting with us, bro. I told you they’d like you.”
“Of course…” I replied, unsure of what to say, but I smiled. “I did feel like a fish out of water, but I did have a good time.”
“No worries, bro. I kinda figured you would feel out of place, but you did great. Give it time and I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” Zach smirked. “You just gotta get out of your comfort zone, man.”
“I guess I never thought of it like that,” I was surprised at Zach’s different perspective. “Maybe I could be as strong as the rest of you are and throw balls around someday,” I joked, as the idea of me being like one of them felt unrealistic to me.
Zach chuckled and gave me a wink. “Who knows? Life is full of surprises. Anyways, my class is this way, but I think we have the same class next period. Later, bro!”
The rest of the day went by quick, and was relatively uneventful. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, school was over, and I could finally go home. I thrusted myself into my bed, overwhelmed by my first day of school., but for once, I was actually kinda happy to be there. I met Zach, Brad, and a bunch of other guys on my very first day. Zach specifically lingered in my mind, and I recollected every inch of his body in my mind. I started to get hard picturing every exquisite detail, and I couldn’t help but bust my load to him. Eventually day turned to evening and evening turned to night, and I closed my eyes, wondering what the rest of the year had in store for me.
The next two weeks came and went and I became accustomed to the new school and my new friends. I went to class, ate with the football team at lunch, and I even started to hang out with Zach more. He offered to help me with the gym if I helped him with some of his schoolwork. I agreed obviously, as I wouldn’t mind building some muscle. It was always good to help a bro out and also I just wanted to be closer to him. As I helped him with math and science, he helped me with lifting weights and exercises. I struggled at first, but eventually I started to notice some improvements and I could tell he was proud.
Whenever we finished studying or working out, we spent the rest of the night watching sports or playing video games. Zach had to explain the rules to me, but I started to understand football on a surface level. Other than that, I got invited to a party at Brad’s place, and I had a great time partying and drinking with Zach and the football team. During those weeks, I was probably the happiest and most social I have ever been in my life.
The following week was when everything changed. One day before lunch, I was approached by someone who I have never seen before. He wasn’t very tall, standing at a modest 5’8”. He looked babyfaced with his nerdy, boyish looks and blonde hair, and his glasses helped to emphasize his meek blue eyes. I think he was a year below me.
“My name is Braden.” He said. “You’re the new kid who’s friends with Zach, right?”
“Yeah I am. My name’s Jake…I mean Jacob.” I responded. For a second, I found myself using the name Zach and the other jocks called me.
“I think you should stay away from him. He’s bad news.”
“What’s wrong with Zach?” I asked. Zach had been nothing but good to me since we met. I couldn’t imagine him having any malicious intent. He even took care of me at the party when I was black-out drunk for the first time.
“Ever since my brother started hanging out with him, he started acting… weird. He was never into football or anything, but now he’s on the team and he looks and acts like a completely different person.”
“I…What are you talking about?” I was seriously confused about what he meant.
“I’m serious! Unless you want to end up like just another jock…”
“Hey, Jake! How’s it going?” Zach cut in, seemingly oblivious to the fact that we were talking about him. “And you’re Brad’s brother, right?” Braden avoided eye contact with his brother’s friend.
I felt a sense of urgency, as I felt like I was going to be late. “I’ve gotta get to lunch. It was nice meeting you, Braden!” I said as me and Zach walked to lunch together. What the hell was his deal anyways?
“Braden’s a weird dude. Don’t worry about what he says,” Zach informed me, trying to ease the mood.
Later that week, I was hanging out at Zach’s place again after a workout, helping him with the algebra quiz that was next class. I helped him understand the concepts better and we wrapped up reviewing the study guide, so we finished and we laid down on his bed.
“Hey man, I’ve been thinking…” Zach started, but he sounded rather hesitant, unlike his usual confident self. “What would you think about joining the football team?”
“I…” I was honestly kinda surprised. Why would he want me, of all people, to join? I wasn’t unathletic, but even working out with him would not have prepared me to play football. “I’m flattered you would want me, but I don’t think I have what it takes. Plus, I’m not like you guys at all,” I answered.
“That’s fine, bro. Me and Coach can help condition you to become the jock I know you want to be.”
“Condition?” I was confused, unsure about what he meant by that.
“I know how much you want to be like us, bro,” For some reason, the word bro sent shivers down my spine. He had a devious look on his face. “And I can see your potential. That’s why I chose you. It helped that you’re the new kid anyways so no one will notice if you turned into another jock. I made that mistake with Brad and now that kid Braden won’t leave me alone.”
Zach paused, realizing that he said too much, but at this point, there was no going back. Despite his malicious intent, I got hard at the thought of being one of them, of being one with the team. My friends were always there for me the past few weeks and we had a strong bond despite our differences. I looked up to them, and wished I was more like them.
“That’s not the only reason I chose you…” Zach rolled over, climbing on top of me, his heavy, muscular body pinning me down, his legs straddled between mine, his sweat from the workout from earlier spreading through my nostrils. “I knew you were gay. I could just tell. But that’s okay, because so am I. You’re cute enough as you are now, but I think you would look better standing side-by-side with me, looking, thinking, and acting like me. Don’t you agree?”
I was overwhelmed by the situation, and by Zach’s sudden change in behavior. But I subconsciously nodded as my cock throbbed in my pants. Whether my mind or my dick was thinking first, I could not tell you.
“If you join the team, I’ll be yours, and you’ll be mine. How does that sound, bro?”
I tried to weigh my options. I thought about the kind of person I was. Who was I before I came here? Before I met Zach? I…I was nobody. I didn’t have any friends here. Zach took me in. My mind was fixated on the man in front of me. I realized I longed for him. I longed for the team and my bros. I longed for football. I longed for working out. And that’s when everything became clear. I longed to become a jock like him.
“That sounds awesome, bro,” I answered. Bro? I never said bro before. I guess Zach was really starting to rub off on me. I gave into temptation, but I knew that it was what I secretly desired ever since I met him.
“That’s a good bro…” Zach responded, obviously pleased with my answer. A seductive smirk lit up his face as he pressed his lips to mine. We enjoyed that moment for what felt like several lifetimes, but in reality it was actually only a few minutes of sweet passion. At this point, I felt like my cock was about to burst. At this point, I desired him. Zach noticed the raging bulge in my pants. “I know you wanna fuck, but I can’t give you what you want just yet. You will meet me in Coach’s office after class tomorrow. After we finish your transformation, then you can cum.”
“Yes, bro…” I muttered, keeping my erection under control. The rest of the evening was surprisingly normal between us, almost like the erotic scene that had just taken place was something out of a fever dream or a hallucination. We played some video games to kill time and to lighten the mood. The only reason I knew it was real was because of the firm erection that lingered in my pants. Eventually I said goodbye to Zach and went home.
“Remember to meet me after school. And just remember, you can still back out if you want…but I have a feeling you won’t,” Zach sneered, looking down at my pulsating serpent. Despite his words, however, I knew that my mind had already crossed the point of no return.
The next day was unbearable. The anticipation of what awaited me after this long day was killing me. What made it worse were the classes where I had Zach. He could tell that I was finding it hard to focus, and it felt like he was edging me with his mind. I could barely concentrate on the algebra quiz we studied for the night prior. I could only think about joining the football team and I imagined what it would be like to be a jock. I’d be big and strong, sexy, athletic. I would fit right in with all my bros. Working out together, practicing together, winning and celebrating together.
During lunch, Zach announced that I would be joining the team, and the group of football jocks cheered and welcomed me to the team. One of them said it was only a matter of time until I decided to join, and I couldn’t really deny it. I looked at each member of the team, and I wondered how I would look compared to them. For a second, I remembered Braden’s words, but I quickly shrugged them off. He made it seem like my transformation would be a bad thing, but a nerd like him could never understand. This is what I desired. This was what I was destined for. And I kept those words in my head, as the clock turned to the end of the school day.
As soon as the final bell rang, I immediately rushed over to the locker room. I saw Zach in his white and red football uniform, missing only his helmet, and, having never seen him in this outfit before, I thought he looked perfect in it. And soon, so would I.
“You’re here early, bro,” he said. “You’re even more eager than I expected. Coach isn’t here yet, but I can explain the details to you.”
He led me towards the back, where he pulled out several pieces of clothing that would become synonymous with my new identity. A jersey already stitched with my name on it, tight compression pants and a compression shirt, football cleats, shoulder pads, a jockstrap, and a sturdy helmet that would adorn my head like a king would wear his crown.
“Put it on.”
I complied. I was a little disappointed at first, as the clothing looked at least a size above what I would normally wear. “No worries, you’ll grow into them quick, trust me.”
As I put on my new uniform, I started to become curious. What was this all about? So I asked him, “What’s the point of all of this anyways?”
“I guess there’s no reason to hide it anymore,” he responded. “To be honest, I was kinda like you once. I wasn’t really athletic like I am now, but my dad was actually a professional football player. He was forced to retire early due to a bad injury, but despite that, I wanted to do what he couldn’t. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never be the player I wanted to be. That all changed when Coach learned of my struggles and we worked together to make me into the football jock I had always dreamed of. Eventually, after about a year of testing, we found a way and that’s how I became who I am now. For once, I was strong, athletic, and confident, and it never felt forced or fake. Like this was who I really was all my life. Since then, similar studies were done at different high schools and colleges across the US. You wouldn’t know about any of that, because it’s all behind closed doors. Eventually, I found you and I realized that you were probably just as lost as I was, so I kinda took advantage of that. Sorry, I guess I’m not the kind of guy you thought I was.”
I had no idea that’s how Zach truly felt. I sympathized with him despite him hiding so much from me. We came from different backgrounds, but we both wanted the same thing. To be better, and to be stronger. Even after he poured his heart out to me and told me the truth, he was still Zach to me. I cared for him and he cared for me. He opened my eyes to a new world full of different possibilities. And so, I pushed my lips into his and our tongues wrestled for dominance. We were stopped by footsteps approaching. We returned to normal as Coach walked into the room, oblivious to the fact that we were making out seconds prior outside of our rosy cheeks.
“So you’re the kid Zach’s been talking about. I’m Coach Myers.” the man said. “I’m guessing he told you everything. Do you have any questions before we get started?”
“No sir,” I answered.
“In that case, let’s go into my office.” I obliged eagerly. There’s no going back. “Have a seat, sign these forms, and put these on.” They were earbuds. I signed my name on every form, formally granting my consent to join the team, and likely whatever changes would occur to me. In front of me was an old TV with a VCR. “You will watch and listen to this video for the full duration. You will notice some changes and you might feel a little uncomfortable. All you have to do is relax and focus on the video.” I did as he said. I sat down in my new football uniform, and I put the earbuds in both ears, and then finally put my helmet onto my head. With everything prepared, Zach turned off the lights, and the TV turned on, playing a video.
With the helmet over my head, my peripheral vision was restricted. I had little choice but to look at what was directly in front of me. My eyes became fixated on the screen in front of me as they became entranced by the flowing spiral. As I fell deeper into a trance, I felt as though my mind and body were on the opposite ends of the world. The audio was hard to make out, but somehow I felt like I understood it, at least subconsciously.
After a period of time that my mind couldn’t possibly comprehend, the imagery began to change. I started to make out clips of football players, playing football, being part of a team, throwing and catching the ball, tackling my opponents, strategies and plays. I learned the proper workouts and techniques and exercises that a football player would do. What at one time felt foreign to me felt like common knowledge, like I had done this my entire life. It was muscle memory, no pun intended.
It was at this moment that my body started to change. No. Change isn’t the right word. Evolve. I noticed my average-sized arms start to bulge, my biceps and triceps inflating like they were being pumped. Next, my shoulders expanded and became more sturdy, making my shoulder pads fit a little better. Then, my chest pumped out, my pecs eager to fill the empty space in my oversized jersey along with my new six-pack. Following that, my legs thickened until they felt tight in my compression pants, and my ass inflated like a balloon into a nice, round bubble butt. Below that, my feet grew longer and more wide, filling the size 15 shoes that my formerly size 11 feet would have had trouble walking around in. My penis, still erect, grew from an average 5 inches to an impressive 8 inches, feeling more and more aroused by the increasing stimulation and the surplus of testosterone flowing through my body. Finally, I felt my blonde medium length hair thin and become more like my teammates with shaved sides and a short top. Any chubbiness in my face disappeared as my facial features sharpened, especially my jawline and my chin, giving myself a more masculine look.
While all of this was happening, my mind was swirling and every part of me was being drained or replaced. I found that I was losing interest in most of my old hobbies, but the idea of playing and watching sports, working out, partying, having sex, and hanging out with the bros felt so much more enticing and appealing than it did before. I started to realize that I didn’t really care much about school or learning anymore, and that playing sports was the only real reason why I came to school. I was never the best student, but I always did my best. However, I realized that none of that mattered as long as I kept good enough grades to stay on the team. C’s get degrees, am I right? At worst, I could always bribe one of the smarter kids to do my homework for me.
Then, my mindset began to change. Before, I was introverted, polite, and humble. But now? I was outgoing, confident, and cocky, and I started to love the idea of that. It started to become unbelievable that I was ever not like this. I was always like this. As the changes in my mind were taking effect, I felt part of me overwhelmed by all the changes and trying to resist, but that stray thought was snuffed out like a candle, as the rest of my thoughts were drained from my mind. Any part of my former self’s mind was absorbed into my balls, which were swollen to the size of grapefruit at this point. As the changes in my body and mind reached its climax, so did my aching cock. As the video concluded, the words became more clear, and I could make out one phrase repeating over and over.
“You are a jock.”
It was at this point that I could finally release all my pent-up frustration from the past 24 hours. It was the best orgasm of my life. And just like that, load after load of my burning, sticky cum flooded my jockstrap, and with it, the memories of the old me were released from my body.
“Looks like someone made a mess,” Zach teased. “No worries, bro. It happens. How do you feel?” he asked as he put his arm around my shoulder. This time it felt different though, because I truly felt like one of the bros.
Jacob was gone. Jake took his place. I’m Jake, Jake the jock. My memories felt distorted but they were starting to become clear. I grew up always with a ball in my hand. I was naturally talented in any sport I played, but I gravitated towards football. I played it at my old school and I was among the best on the team. However, my dad got a new job and we were forced to move here. Thankfully, we were fortunate to live near a school with a gifted football program. I became friends with Zach and the football team, and naturally, I signed up for the team. And Zach? He was not just my bro or my best friend. He eventually became my boyfriend and the rest of the team supported our relationship. All of this felt so real to me, and a cocky smirk appeared on my unfamiliar face.
“Bro…I feel awesome,” I responded, my new, deeper voice matching both my new physique and personality. I looked down at my new body. It was like I hit puberty for the second time. I stood up, realizing that I was now several inches taller, now standing at a solid 6’2”. I was almost as tall as Zach, and I didn’t have to look up at him now. I felt like we were finally equals in terms of body and status.
“I told you you’d look amazing, bro,” he said as he gave me a peck on the cheek. “You should clean yourself up and get ready for practice. The other guys will never let it go if you come to your first practice with cum staining your uniform. Oh, and thanks Coach. Glad you could help both of us out.”
“Always glad to help out my star player,” Coach chuckled. “As for you, I think you turned out better than any of them yet. You might even give Zach a run for his money.” I felt a sense of pride being compared to him.
I quickly left Coach’s office and cleaned myself off. I changed into clothes that Zach lent me that would fit my new body better, and ran off to practice. Before that though, I stared at myself in the mirror so I could get my first glimpse of the new me. The person in front of me was completely unrecognizable to me, but I quickly grew comfortable with the jock in the mirror and I smiled at the person I had become. I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the flexing hunk that stood before me.
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Time passed and my new life became more and more normal to me. I would go to school, hang out with the football team, go to practice, work out, and then hang out with Zach. It became a natural routine to me, and I was never happier. My grades dropped a bit because I was focused on football. It’s not that I can’t care about learning. I just don’t want to. Coach says it’s alright as long as I pass my classes.
For the first time, I felt a true sense of camaraderie with a group of guys, and especially Zach. It felt like we were joined at the hip. We were a pair both on the field and off it. We’re currently undefeated this year and I think we might even reach regionals.
Most of my classmates and peers barely noticed my changes since I was already new and to them, I blended in as yet another stereotypical football jock. The only people with an immediate reaction were my parents. They were a little surprised by my sudden changes, but they were supportive of my new passion for football and they were glad to see me making friends and staying active. I did remember one person who definitely would mind my changes.
Braden.
A week or so after my transformation, he walked up to me, obviously disappointed, with a look of shame on his face, and told me that I should’ve listened to him. I brushed aside his comments. He called me a dumb jock. I told him I was happier this way, but he refused to believe me. He wouldn’t accept it. He said that he was going to expose the football team somehow, and change everyone who was affected back, including me and Brad. He stormed off, hoping to find some way to expose us.
I didn’t show it on my face, but in my mind I was furious. I genuinely didn’t want to turn back and I didn’t want the football team to be suspended or shut down. I thought about Zach, about his dreams, and about mine. I wanted nothing more than for the two of us to live out our dreams together of being the best football jocks ever. I couldn’t let Braden figure out the truth. I have to stop him. I started to brainstorm ideas on how to keep him quiet.
A devious idea entered my mind. He wouldn’t want to snitch on us if we turned him into a jock first. He was obviously a little envious of me, of Zach, even his big brother. I’m sure he would grow to appreciate the idea if he just accepted it. Besides, I’m sure he would make a sexy football jock with his looks already. The idea of turning someone into a jock, corrupting them, awakening their true desires became so appealing to me, just like Zach had did for me. He’ll understand one day.
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keqism · 9 months
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𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐒
⌇ feat. itoshi rin
⌇ premise. your boyfriend is a liar with a sweet tooth
⌇ cw. GN reader, rin & reader are aged up (20+), profanity. not sponsored by haribo !
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Orange gummy bears are the bane of your existence. 
Tart with a bitter aftertaste, the revolting flavor is enough to trigger your gag reflex. Fortunately for you, they're Itoshi Rin's favorite. It's the reason I'm dating you, you joke sometimes, only to be scoffed at. But despite the cold glares, he secretly enjoys it when you hand-feed him the orange jellies.  
It's a ritual between you and him that started in high school. The two of you were seatmates, to Rin's delight. You were pretty, he had always thought. Sitting next to you allowed him to sneak glances at your face, admiring the curve of your nose and the plush of your lips. But despite the close proximity, he could never muster the courage to say a word to you.
It had started off as an awful, rainy day. Rin had slept through his alarm, missed his morning bowl of ochazuke, and sprinted to catch his bus in the rain. Soaked and hungry, he opened his emergency pack of Haribo gummy bears and snuck bites of the colorful jellies during algebra class to tame the loud beast in his stomach. 
He had been biting the head of an orange gummy when a piece of paper landed on his desk. 
the orange ones are the worst! it read, once unfolded. Cautious teal eyes flicked up to meet your unabashed staring, and Rin felt his heart skip a beat at your teasing smile. And when the teacher turned around to face the blackboard, the paper was flicked back onto your desk. 
everyone knows the white gummies are the grossest. You laughed quietly at the note, oblivious to the way his eyes lingered on your lips, before scribbling something back.
if you don't like the white ones, could i take them? they're my favorite :3
And so on a slightly less awful, rainy day, Itoshi Rin found himself sharing gummy bears with you in the back of his algebra classroom.
It was your shared sweet tooth that brought you together. The once awkward silence between classes was filled with your bright laughter and the crinkle of the cellophane gummy packet that he would always split with you. As the school days flew by, Rin realized that he wanted to share more than gummies with you. His first kiss, his body, his cold, guarded heart—he wanted you to have it all. And so when the last bittersweet days of youth came to an end, he asked you to be his.
That was years ago. Now, Itoshi Rin is everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. He brews your favorite coffee every morning, does your skincare routine for you when you fall asleep on the couch, and hides you in the safety of his chest when days get difficult. He does his best to hold his sharp tongue and soften his personality when he's with you. He marks your birthday and anniversary in big red letters on the calendar on his wall. 
So when you storm into the living room, your face livid, Rin has no idea what he's done wrong. 
"Itoshi fucking Rin!" you seethe, your arms crossed over your chest. From the couch, Rin gapes at you in confusion, trying to remember if he accidentally washed your white underwear with the colored clothes again. 
"What? What did I do?" An ungodly squeak leaves his mouth as you push him back by the shoulders, clambering into his lap. 
A sharp finger pokes his chest. "You're a little liar," you spit, "I stopped by the grocery store with Bachira to get you gummy bears and you know what he told me? He said that you hate the orange flavor the most!" 
Rin snaps his eyes shut and groans, cursing his friend for being so mouthy. "Hear me out—," he tries to explain, but you slap your hand over his mouth, his cheeks stinging from the impact. 
"Don't even try," you hiss at him, expression petulant. "I'm not even mad that you lied. I'm mad that you let me feed you the disgusting flavor." You push off of his lap, storming away to your bedroom. The door slams and Rin flinches at the sound.
A moment of bewildered silence passes before he slowly makes his way to the bedroom. Gently opening the door, he peers inside to see you on your bed, wrapped in your duvet. The bed dips under his weight as he sits on the edge, a hand coming up to rub your back. 
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I don't hate the orange ones, I promise. They're just not my favorite."
The bundle of blankets on the bed rustles as you slide your hand out, dropping something in his lap. The cellophane of the opened Haribo gummy bear packet crinkles as Rin peers inside it. 
"I ate all the orange ones for you," you sniff, poking your head out of the blankets. "I hated every second of it. I hate you."
Rin laughs before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
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The Dangers of Hope Ch. 5
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Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.
Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.
Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.
Chapter Warnings: Nothing major.
Word Count: 5,402
A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.
If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊
I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.
I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️
A/N 2: Sorry, this chapter is a bit longer than usual, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. 😘
Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists
The dividers below were created by @saradika
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Over the next two weeks, Dean did whatever he could to avoid being around Y/N.  He was determined that the morning at the river was simply going to be a weird one off. It was some kind of reaction to Y/N’s unfamiliar presence. Her emotions and her rose-colored outlook on the world had contaminated him somehow. 
He didn’t know why, but there was something about her that always made him question his decisions, constantly rework his plans. She just brought something out in him, so he stayed the hell away from her as much as possible.
He knew she’d set up the school and begun teaching. But there again, she’d made him change his plans. The plan had been to use the sheds behind the cabin for storage; that was the whole reason for building them! 
But apparently Y/N had worked her magic with Brandy and before he knew it the sensible, practical woman had him convinced to let Y/N and the kids take up one of their very limited storage spaces, just to sit around doing algebra and reading poetry - or whatever she was teaching them. 
It was ridiculous. 
But even though he avoided her during the day, there was no turning off his brain at night, when he closed his eyes and visions of her soft curves and the memory of her silky skin beneath his fingers plagued his thoughts. He told himself to smarten up, that he had so many more important things to be thinking about. 
He decided he just needed sex; it had been too long. So one night he showed up in Risa’s tent after midnight and she opened her arms to him the way she always did. 
But as he kissed her and moved his hands over her body, her gentle sighs and soft moans weren’t doing what he needed them to, and he realized he was being an asshole trying to replace one woman with another. Risa was a good soldier and she’d been a soft place for him to land too many times to just use her as a distraction. 
So he got up and left, giving her a lame excuse, “I forgot I have to be up early tomorrow to…go over things with Johnston.” He tried not to notice Risa’s frown. He couldn't tell if she was mad or sad, and he didn't really want to stick around to find out. 
As the days moved on, he realized it was next to impossible to completely avoid Y/N, whether day or night. Because no matter how he tried to ignore her, he saw her influence everywhere. He could sense a shift in the air, he swore people were smiling more and every once in a while, he could hear kids laughing loudly.
That was a foreign sound nowadays, and it unnerved him. And smiling seemed foolish. What was there to smile about? Being happy just invited tragedy. He knew in the old days he would have been called a pessimist. But he was simply being a realist as he'd always been. He called things as they were, and he wasn't about to let a pretty smile and a bouncy attitude change that.
One evening, about a month after Y/N arrived at the camp, Dean was headed to the storage shed to take a thorough inventory before they left the next day on a raid - one of their last before the snows came in mid November. He knew they were gonna need more propane than what they had stored in order to run the generator over the winter. The generator ran the fridge and freezer where they kept their food stored. 
It could also power the electricity in the big cabin for a little while if needed. There had been nearly a week last winter that had been so piercingly cold that they’d all needed to jam themselves into the cabin and run the electric heat as much as possible. It had simply been too cold for the little camp stoves in the tents; the wood-burning stoves just couldn’t generate enough heat to combat the intense cold that seeped through the thick canvas walls. 
So their generator had saved them, and it ran on propane, which meant they needed more than enough to last through another possible cold snap.
Dean had deliberately waited to start the task until it was nearly sundown since the school would be empty by then and he could avoid running into the teacher that worked there. 
But as he approached the small building he could see a wavering light in the window - a lamp moving towards him. Before he could turn and leave (he wasn’t going to call it running away) Y/N stepped out into the semi-darkness and gasped as she saw him standing there.
She put the hand not holding the kerosene lamp to her chest. “Oh my lord!” She breathed out raggedly. “You scared me half to death.” But she was chuckling as she said it and walked closer to him.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I uh…I thought you’d be gone.” He knew he sounded slightly accusatory. “Why are you still here? Haven’t the kids been gone for hours?”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I came back to put up the gift we got from Tom Richardson.” She waved him towards the building behind her. “You should come see the school.”
Dean shook his head. “No, I’ve got…I have to -”
She cut him off with wide, pleading eyes. “Please?” She added a bright, imploring smile and Dean shook his head. Why was he even bothering to say no to her at this point? He gestured for her to lead the way into the little building and he followed at a distance. 
They walked in and she set the lamp on the small table in the corner and turned it up full so that it completely lit up the tiny room. She held her arms out to the sides, showing off her little schoolroom with pride.
“What do you think?”
He shook his head. “It’s uh…pretty empty.” He said looking around. 
Y/N shrugged and seemed a little deflated. “It’s a work in progress.”
Dean grunted his acknowledgement and continued his sweep of the room. On the floor against the back, Northern, wall were a couple of piles of wool blankets, and right above them was a mural of multicolored leaves stuck to the wall. 
When she saw him looking at it and frowning, Y/N explained. “I got the kids to find a bunch of pretty, fallen leaves, and then we used some tree sap as glue to stick them up. I got to teach them a little bit about trees and ecosystems, and we also made something pretty to hang on the wall.”
He nodded at the blankets. “Is that where the kids sit?”
“Yeah.” She said with another shrug. “We’re a little packed in, but it keeps us warm. The blankets just take the chill out of the floor and make it a bit softer to sit on.”
Dean nodded absently and looked left, his eye catching on the only other object in the room. It was a paper map hanging on the western wall, held in place by two small nails. 
Dean frowned again. “Is that a map of America?”
Y/N nodded excitedly. “Yeah, that was the gift from Tom Richardson. It was so kind of him. His son, Jonah is a sweet little guy, but I guess he’s been pretty quiet over the last year or so. He lost his mom just before he and Tom got to Chitaqua?” She said, clearly using the words as a question to see if he knew who she was talking about.
Dean nodded, a vague recollection coming to his mind of a big burly guy and a scrawny little kid. He remembered thinking the guy would be a hard worker, and the kid probably wasn’t gonna make it. He’d looked pretty sick.
Y/N continued. “Well, I guess since he started school he’s been talking more in the evenings, even asking Tom questions about The Knights of the Round Table. I’ve been sharing some of the legends with them this week. So, Tom was grateful and as a thank you, he gave us this map that he’d kept tucked away in his backpack all this time. Said it made him feel peaceful to look at it and remember better times. But he thought we could use it more.”
She smiled wistfully and gazed at the slightly ratty map.
“Why?” Dean asked with a slight jolt in his gut. He waved at the map. “It’s not like this anymore.”
Y/N nodded and lowered her gaze to the ground. “Yeah, I know, but the general shape of the country is still the same, and I can use it as half geography, half history.”
When she looked back up at him, her face was set in lines of disappointment. She waved her hand to encompass the whole hundred and fifty square feet. “You don’t like it?” She asked with a weak chuckle.
Dean shrugged. “No it's, I mean, it’s fine. You know, work in progress, like you said.”
Y/N nodded and smiled, looking a little bolstered. “Yeah, slow but sure. And you know,” her smile turned shy, “I’ve really wanted to thank you for giving up the space for the school, I know this wasn’t what the shed was earmarked for.”
Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, Brandy made sense. Can’t have the kids wandering around outside after the cold comes.”
Y/N frowned. “I’ve wanted to thank you, but every time I’ve looked for you, I seem to have just missed you.”
Dean scowled defensively. “Just busy.” 
Y/N nodded.
“Well look,” Dean said, backing away, “I gotta get to…stuff.” He shook his head. “I mean, we’re leaving on a raid tomorrow and I gotta prepare for it.”
“Oh, be careful.” Y/N said, biting her lip in concern.
It was far too hard for Dean to rip his eyes away from where her teeth sunk into the satiny sweep of her bottom lip. But he jerked his head up and then spun away as he answered her. “Always am.”
***
The raid was successful; in fact it was one of the most successful ones they’d ever had. They’d traveled all the way to St. Louis, hoping to find some gas stations there that hadn’t been picked clean. But they had no luck. Since going home empty-handed wasn’t an option, they went North to Springfield and hit the jackpot. 
They found an old Costco on the outskirts of the city that had barely been hit. They filled and loaded up enough propane tanks to see them through the winter and then some. 
They also loaded up as much food as they could, and even found some usable meds left in the pharmacy there. They grabbed clothes and kitchen things like plates and pots, utensils, also managing to find a few things that had become rare and quite precious, like eyeglasses and sunglasses. They also found spare tires and car parts, and a few simple pieces of practical furniture. They took as much as they could load into the back of two trucks and a Jeep. 
Dean packed up one more big box, setting it on top of the others; it was just something he thought might come in handy. He refused to think too long about why he’d gathered together the things in the box.
They made it back to camp less than two days after they left, a record for a raid. They usually took a week or more because they had to scavenge through a bunch of different cities, and fight off masses of Croats. But this time, they didn't see any Croats at all, and they'd scored an incredible haul quickly, which meant that, barring some kind of catastrophe, they wouldn't have to go out again until the snow melted. 
They pulled into the camp around noon and Dean spent a few hours helping to unload the trucks and organize where everything went. When the campers saw the piles of booty in the trucks, people actually started clapping. An air of joviality pervaded as they all worked together to put things away until the next day. At which point they'd begin accounting for it all, sharing what was needed immediately, and then safely storing away the rest. 
Y/N and her students left their little schoolroom to come help as well and the kid’s eyes were wide and excited, looking at everything that had been brought back as though it was Christmas Eve. 
When everything was unloaded, Dean grabbed the box he’d put aside and brought it to Y/N who’d returned to the school to drop off the two folding chairs she’d claimed for the classroom.
He knocked on the open door, grateful for the hard wood beneath his knuckles this time. Y/N turned to face him and her eyes were almost as bright and excited as the kids’.
“Hi!” She said enthusiastically. “Wow, you guys sure brought home the bacon on this raid!”
Dean shook his head. “No bacon. It was fairly rancid.”
Y/N chuckled lightly and scrunched up her nose. “Yeah, wise decision to leave that behind.”
Dean nodded and set the big box on the plywood floor with a heavy thump. “This is for you. For the school.” He amended.
Y/N looked a bit dumbfounded for a moment and her eyes got even rounder before she dropped to her knees and pulled open the flaps of the box. 
When she saw what was inside her gasp was deep and her hands flew to her mouth. She looked up at him in complete shock before reaching reverently into the box to take out one of the books that sat inside.
“Books.” She whispered, as she stared at the paperback in her hands. She reached into the box again and pulled out another book and then another and another until her arms were full of them.
She looked up at him, tears falling and her gaze rapturous. “Oh my god, Dean.”
Dean felt his face flush and he looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just figured the classroom could use ‘em and they were just sitting there on the shelves. There’s a bunch of kids books underneath,” he said pointing inside the box. “And paper and pencils and some crayons, a few coloring books. There weren’t many of them so-”
He was interrupted as Y/N dropped the books back into the box and launched herself at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. He stood stock still for a minute before he patted her back awkwardly and dropped his arms back to his side.
She pulled back and brushed away her happy tears, sniffling loudly. “Sorry. I just…” She knelt down again and picked up another book, holding it tight to her chest. She shook her head. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed books. It’s been years since I’ve even seen one let alone had the chance to read one.”
She reached in for one of the children’s books and laughed. “Oh my gosh, the kids are gonna be ecstatic.”
Dean shrugged, thoroughly embarrassed by Y/N’s joy and gratitude. He cleared his throat before speaking. “There’s a limited supply of paper and pencils, and I have no idea how long it will be before we find more, if we ever do, so…”
He trailed off and Y/N put the books back into the box and folded the flaps closed again. “So, we’ll be sure to write very tiny, erase a lot, and wear the pencils down to little nubs.” She said as she stood and bent to heft the box up from the floor. Dean stepped forward to grab it from her as she staggered slightly beneath its weight.
“You’ll break your back.” Dean barked at her as he reached for the box. 
But she just shook her head and turned away with the box still in her arms. “N’ah I’m stronger than I look.” She said, huffing and puffing as she dropped it onto the table. 
Dean shook his head. Yeah, I bet you are. He thought.
After a moment Y/N turned and walked slowly back towards him. “So, I can’t exactly buy you dinner as a thank you. But if you bring your rations over to our tent, I can cook them all up for us.”
She smiled at him, friendly and sweet, but Dean was backing away. “No, that’s not necessary.”
“I know it isn’t, but it will make me feel good to do this one small favor for you in return for this amazingness.” She said with a wave towards the box.
Dean planned to say no, had it on the tip of his tongue but when he opened his mouth what came out was, “Okay.”
So barely an hour later he found himself sitting at her table with dinner laid out in front of him. It was a sufficiently celebratory meal of salted venison from an eight point buck the camp hunters had taken down in early summer, boiled potatoes, and a can of green beans that was older than Emma.
It was the best meal Dean had eaten in a long time.  
After the food was finished and the dishes were washed, Y/N made them a cup of coffee and he sat drinking it as she settled Emma into bed with a kiss. His stomach was full of decent food, the coffee smelled old but still strong, and the sound of Y/N’s soft voice as she tucked her daughter in, was incredibly soothing. He found himself relaxing into his chair in a way he hadn’t in a very long time. His muscles lost some of their rigidity and he breathed out a long sigh, as though he’d been holding his breath for too long.
After a few minutes Y/N came back to the table and sat down with her own soft exhale. She took a sip of her coffee and then looked at Dean over the rim of her tin cup. “You know, I don’t think you really understand what you’ve done here.”
Dean cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, questioning her. She smiled and set down her cup, shifting slightly in her chair.
“Since all of this started, we’ve been on the move, Emma and I. In the beginning, when Emma was still a baby, I’d come across different groups of people and we’d travel together for a while or we’d manage to hole up somewhere for the winter and wait out the cold together. But inevitably the groups always fell away; sometimes we’d just decide to go in separate directions, but sometimes animosity or greed would take over and violence would erupt. People would fight over who was in charge and they’d fight over resources.” Y/N shook her head. “It almost always ended up a disaster.”
She shrugged. “So after a while, I just lit out on my own with Emma. It was scary as hell, of course - no back up, no partners, all on my own with a four year old. But it also meant no one stealing my stuff, or throwing me to the wolves at the first sign of trouble.” 
She took another sip of coffee and Dean wondered at the shadows in her usually bright eyes. What stories in her past had created them?
Her voice was soft when she continued. “It’s been incredibly hard and there’s been,” her eyelashes fluttered and closed, “there's been a lot of bad.” 
She set down her cup and sat back in her chair, rubbing at her eyes with her fingers like she was scratching out the images behind her eyelids.
When she looked at him again, her eyes were soft and warm. “So, to come here, to see what you’ve accomplished in just a few years?” Her voice was full of wonder. “Dean, it’s like a miracle. I mean you’ve made it safe here, at least a hell of a lot safer than anywhere else out there - there are guards protecting us! People work together, contribute their skills and strengths for the benefit of the group as well as themselves.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen anything like it in a very long time. What you’ve created here is an oasis.”
Dean snorted at that. “Oasis?” He asked incredulously. Her praise and wonderment made him feel an itchy kind of awkwardness. He didn’t deserve it.
But Y/N was nodding solemnly. “Yes. It’s a safe haven in a world filled with evil. What would you call it?”
Dean took a gulp of coffee and then licked his lips, looking at her for a moment before speaking. “Y/N this is only an oasis in the sense that it’s a mirage in a desert; it’s an illusion. We’re managing to get by through lucky choices and good timing. We push through from day to day, but I’m telling you this whole place could fall apart in an instant. One long, bad, winter, or one coordinated attack from another camp or a pack of Croats, and we’re done.”
He paused to try and let that sink in before continuing. “And the survivors here work together because it’s beneficial to them. But if things get desperate again,” he looked at her pointedly, “don’t think for one second that they'll hesitate to throw you to the wolves like all the others.” He shrugged. “It’s human nature, survival of the fittest, and anyone who thinks otherwise is gonna get trampled.”
He said it as a warning, still determined to dislodge the Pollyanna ideal of good and virtuous humanity from her mind.
But Y/N just smiled and leaned across the table to squeeze his hand. “Guess we’ll see. But in the meantime, you should be proud. No matter what happens, you’ve done good.”
Dean swallowed down the rest of his coffee in one gulp and stood up, pulling his hand away from her warm touch. He was desperate to get away from the softness and understanding in her gaze. He thanked her for cooking dinner and left quickly, promising himself as he walked back to his tent that he wasn’t going to do that again.
But as with most things to do with Y/N that decision didn’t last long, and soon enough that one evening turned into a bit of a ritual. Every few days or so Dean would show up with some of his rations and Y/N would combine them with what they had, and they’d all eat together at their tiny table.
Every time he left her tent, he told himself he’d had his last meal there with Y/N and Emma. Yet within a few days, he’d be back again. He told himself it was just something to break the monotony of camp life, just something a little different from the ordinary.
But the truth was he was beginning to crave the evenings spent across from Y/N, listening to her rattle on about her students and their achievements, or else answering her seemingly endless questions about the camp and how it had come to be. He even enjoyed listening to her talk to Emma, telling her stories before she tucked her in for the night. 
Once the little girl was asleep, Dean usually hightailed it out of there, because without the kid as a buffer it became much harder to ignore Y/N’s inviting lips and tempting curves.
But one night, three weeks after returning home from the raid, Y/N followed him outside as he abruptly left the tent. 
“Dean.” She called after him. 
The sun had set almost an hour before and the night was dark and cold; Dean returned to her side and admonished her. “It’s freezing out here, go back inside.”
Y/N just rubbed her hands up and down her arms and shrugged. “I’m fine.”
He shook his head at her stubbornness, and then waited silently. When she didn’t say anything right away he spread his arms wide.
“What?” He asked impatiently. 
“I just…” Y/N stuttered for a moment. “I just wanted to say that I really like when you come for dinner.”
Dean clenched his jaw as she looked up at him with heat in her gaze, an invitation in her eyes, plain as day. He told himself to walk away but instead, he raised his hand to trail his fingers down her cheek. 
“You should go inside.” He warned her again, even as he lowered his head towards her. “S’cold.”
Y/N shook her head. “I’m very warm.” She smiled and licked her lips and it was his undoing.
He yanked her up against him and crushed her lips with his own. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, inhaling her sweet scent and hardening at the way she clutched the front of his jacket and whimpered softly. He moved his hands so that one clutched at her waist and the other one grabbed hold of the back of her head so he could keep her pressed to him tightly.
He didn't know how long he would have continued kissing her, or whether he might have taken things even further. But luckily there was a loud noise of something crashing somewhere in camp, followed by laughter. 
The sound was like a bucket of cold water being poured on him and Dean ripped himself away from Y/N's mouth. They were both breathing heavily, panting really.
“Fuck.” Dean swore roughly before he turned abruptly and left. He fully admitted to himself that this time, he was definitely running away.
***
Dean barely slept and woke up the next day berating himself for the night before. For fuck’s sake he’d been making out with Y/N with her kid just on the other side of a canvas wall - kissing her in the wide open, where any other camper might have walked by. He didn’t need things to be more complicated than they were already. 
As the morning wore on, he made up his mind to talk to Y/N that very afternoon. He'd just tell her straight out that what happened between them just couldn't happen again. It was only going to confuse things and make everything harder than it needed to be. 
He nodded; he could do this. He was practical and he didn't hem and haw or tiptoe around things. He'd just tell her straight out how things were going to be. 
He knew she'd be in the big cabin as the school day ended, so he walked over and stepped inside the door, hoping she'd be almost done for the day.
Ever since he brought her the books, she'd been reading to the kids at the end of every school day. Parents had started swinging by the school, ostensibly to meet their kids, but really, they wanted to watch their kids' faces and listen to their giggles as Y/N read the stories in funny voices and occasionally got the kids to join her in acting out silliness from the books. 
But the crowd of parents and kids had gotten a bit too big for the tiny schoolroom, so on the last day of every week, Y/N had taken to reading to the kids and parents together in the big cabin. The adults usually sat on the floor behind the kids, keeping their hands busy with mending clothes or knitting, or else they stood at a table and worked on something like repairing holes in tents or making snares for the hunters. The work allowed them to justify their enjoyment of the stories. 
As Dean walked inside now, Y/N was finishing up the storybook in her hand. He could see it was The Paper Bag Princess and Y/N was on the last page.
“‘Ronald’, said Elizabeth, ‘your clothes are really pretty and your hair is very neat.” Y/N read aloud in Elizabeth’s decisive voice. 
“You look like a real prince. But you,” Y/N paused for effect, “are a bum.’”
All the kids were giggling as she read the last line. 
“They didn't get married after all.”
The kids clapped and even the parents were chuckling at the way the paper bag princess had put the snooty prince in his place.
“I love that story!!” A little redheaded girl in the front gushed. 
“It's my mommy's favorite story.” Emma said loudly. “Right Mommy?”
Y/N nodded. “When I was your age for sure.”
Dean pushed away from the wall he was leaning on, trying to signal Y/N so she'd hurry up and finish. But the little girl in the front demanded her full attention as she bounced up to lean against Y/N's knees where she sat in the chair.
“Cause your mommy read it to you?”
Dean was seriously considering ordering everyone out. He wanted to get this over with.
But Y/N's next words stopped him dead in his tracks. 
She was shaking her head as she tucked the little girl's red hair behind her ear. “No, my mommy passed away a long time ago when I was just a baby. So she never really got to read me stories.”
Y/N kept talking, but Dean only heard a hot, pulsing, rushing sound in his ears. A million thoughts were slamming through his mind at once as he felt a cold shiver run through him.
He yelled over the sound of the people around him beginning to chatter and get ready to leave.
“How?”
Y/N looked up at his bellow, her face shocked. “What?”
Dean was aware of his surroundings only just enough to brusquely order everyone out of the cabin.
“Now!” He barked and the mood in the room shifted quickly as parents grabbed up their children and gave The Boss a wide berth as his eyes burned at Y/N like green fire.
Everyone disappeared and it was just Y/N, Dean and Emma left. 
Dean felt his heart hammering in his chest as he took a step back from where she stood. 
Y/N's face was completely confused and clearly perplexed. “Dean what-”
He cut her off. “How?” He bellowed again before swallowing and asking in a slightly quieter tone. “How did your mother die when you were a baby?”
Y/N shook her head. “Why? What are you-”
“Answer me.” Dean's voice wasn't loud, but his words were clipped and he could hear the steel behind his words, feel the cold seeping into his bones as the tumblers in his mind fell into place, opening the lock concealing the reason behind Y/N’s miraculous survival of the virus.
Y/N blinked rapidly for a moment before exhaling slowly. “It was a - a fire. Some kind of electrical short or something.”
“In your nursery.” Dean said softly.
Y/N shrugged, her face scrunched up in confusion. “I'm not sure. My dad didn't really like to talk about it.”
As he stood staring at the woman with the bloodshot eyes, a moment from so long ago, once again from that first time they'd faced the Croatoan virus, materialized in his memory.
Again his brother's face bloomed in his mind, and he heard his own voice speaking.
“I swear I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean why here, why now?”
And Sam's bewildered reply. “And why was I immune?”
Well now he knew why his brother had been immune. Because Yellow Eyes had wanted him to be, to make him a better soldier, a better, more powerful psychic to lead his demon army. And of course, he’d needed to be sure Lucifer's true vessel was strong and able enough to withstand the demon germ warfare he planned to release upon the world as a way to kickstart the apocalypse.
Dean stared at Y/N, angry beyond belief. Angry at her and what she really was, angry at himself for taking so long to figure it out and for falling for her game, and unbelievably angry at the universe for proving once again that it was laughing at him. 
His voice was ice when he spoke. “What kind of psychic are you? What can you do?” He shook his head. “What have you done already?"
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Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:
@lyarr24
@lacilou
@deans-spinster-witch
@globetrotter28
@suckitands33
@akshi8278
@evznackles
@jackles010378
@impala67rollingthroughtown
@krazykelly
@candy-coated-misery0731
@envyaurora95
@spnwoman
@deans-baby-momma
Dean Fics Only:
@roonthelittlespoon920
@slamminmine
@zepskies
Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:
@kazsrm67
@slut-for-evans-stan
@sexyvixen7
@nancymcl
@waywardcheshire
Everything Incl. Fan Edits:
@k-slla
@leigh70
@eevvvaa
@kickingitwithkirk
@foxyjwls007
@notinthislife50
@roseblue373
@mishkatelwarriorgoddess
@avanatural
@mrsjenniferwinchester
@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone
@deangirl96
@hobby27
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Text
Here's The Way I Feel
Characters: Spencer Reid x reader
Summary: Spencer has been harboring a crush on his workmate for quite a while now, but after a case where he has to take her on multiple dates, and with the help of Derek Morgan, he can’t help but spill his secret.
Word Count: 2088 words
Prompt: Fluff. Fake dating. Falling asleep on them. Drunk confession.
A/N: @intense-socks (who has an excellent name btw) requested this little bit of fluffy Spencer for my latest follower milestone celebration, so, I hope you enjoy this one. If you do, then please reblog it.
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There were definitely worse ways to spend an evening than sitting in a restaurant with your favourite co-worker. True, you were technically working, but aside from the occasional voice in your earpiece, you could easily forget that was the case. This was the third restaurant you had been to in as many days, and Hotch had certainly kept the best for last. The plush surroundings, the fancy menu with far too many fancy words to be understood by a mere mortal, the soft candlelight that created a distinctly romantic air, definitely the perfect hunting ground for your latest unsub.
Spencer was focusing on the menu, his fingers tapping lightly on the table as his right leg bounced beneath it. He tried to curtail his nervous energy, but being in this situation with you was such sweet torture. The past few days he had got to play out his daydreams of what it might be like if the two of you were actually together. He got to hold your hand, make you laugh, share stories and hold you close in ways he knew he shouldn’t want to. Each date had felt like a first. He agonized over what to wear, what to order, how far to compliment you. The complicated algebra of attraction was constantly running through his mind, trying, and failing, to prevent himself from falling for you more than he already had.
“Hey, Spence, you okay?” Your fingers grazed his and he had to suppress a shiver at your touch.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I was just wondering if it will be tonight.” He reached for his glass of wine with his other hand, not wanting to break contact with you if he could help it.
“Well, if you’re a very good boy, I’d say there is more than a chance tonight will be the night.” You smirked as he almost choked on his drink, eliciting laughter from you.
“Ooooh, pretty boy’s on a promise.” Morgan chuckled through the comms.
“Settle down.” Hotch’s voice sounded tired and it reminded you both why you were there. You were bait.
“How about you don’t focus on what may or may not happen later, just stay here in this moment with me? It’ll be more convincing.” You turned your hand, interlacing your fingers with his.
Convincing. That was the real problem here. It was easy for Spencer to convince people he was hopelessly in love with you, because it was true. The sticking point was that you were also incredibly convincing, and he knew it was an act. The soft smiles, the way your eyes lingered on his lips as he spoke, the light touch of your fingertips gliding over his skin, it was all a calculated act to make the unsub believe the two of you were a happy couple. An unsub who hated happy couples and had been torturing and killing them for the past few weeks.
Spencer pushed the unsub to the back of his mind, instead concentrating on each and every detail of you, committing it to his brilliant memory. The slight tilt of your head, the gentle curve of your lips, the melodic tone of your voice, the warmth of your hand in his. If he really concentrated, really stayed in this moment, he could almost fool himself into believing this was real.
Evidently, Spencer wasn’t the only one, because not two hours later you were arresting the unsub after he had abducted the two of you, leaving you both with a few cuts and bruises.
Back on the jet, and Spencer was lost in his thoughts. It wasn’t fair. He had now had a taste of how things could have been, how you could have looked at him if he was the type of guy who you would want.
“Mind if I sit here? They are just a little loud over there and I need a bit of peace.” You gave him a nervous smile, and Spencer moved his bag from the seat next to him so you could sit. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He gave you a soft smile then forced himself to stare at the open book in his hand, trying to ignore the way his whole body tingled whenever you accidentally brushed your arm or leg against his. Spencer was so deep in sculpting his denial that he failed to realise your head was resting against his shoulder. It wasn’t until he caught a soft snuffling snore that he looked over to find you fast asleep, curled up against him as if that was exactly where you belonged.
This was the first time you had ever fallen asleep on him, and he couldn’t help wonder if it was due to exhaustion or if this case had maybe bonded you more than he realised. Any one of the team could have looked over at the two of you and seen the total adoration in Spencer’s gaze as he watched you sleep, taking care with his movements to ensure he didn’t wake you. He had no idea if this moment would ever be repeated, so he soaked it in, desperately hoping it wouldn’t be, yet not brave enough to ask you for more.
It had been a long case, and it was very obvious after the flight that Spencer needed a little cheering up, after all, his little fantasy relationship had come to an end, so Derek suggested a beer. One beer turned into quite a few, along with whiskey chasers and then some shots which were colours that Spencer felt no drink should ever be. Although Spencer was not the most tolerant of alcohol, Morgan was also the wrong side of merry, which meant the blind was leading the blind as they ordered another round.
“You should tell her, man.” Morgan said for the millionth time that night, his hand coming to rest on Spencer’s shoulder a little heavier than he intended.
“Oh, yeah, that is a terrible idea. I should definitely not do that.” Spencer shook his head emphatically, almost knocking over his drink.
“You should. You should call right now and tell her. Then, if she laughs, which I know for a fact she won’t, you can just say you were very drunk.” The fact that Morgan was slurring his words right now should have alerted Reid as to how floored that logic was, but with both of them in a drunken haze it appeared to be a sound argument.
“Right now? I should call right now? It’s like… I don’t even know what time it is. What time is it?” He asked rather loudly, only to get a chorus of varying times around the 2am mark.
“Go on Pretty Boy! Call the girl.” Morgan took Reid’s phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found yours, smirking when he saw the little love hearts after your name. The poor boy had it bad. “It’s ringing.” He stated, handing over the phone to a clearly flustered Spencer.
“Voicemail.” Spencer frowned, closing his eyes and basking in your voice until a harsh tone indicated it was his turn to speak. And speak he did.
When you woke, the light on your answer machine was flashing and you pressed play as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink. It was unusual that you hadn’t been woken by the phone ringing, you must have been in a really deep sleep. As soon as Spencer’s slightly slurred voice rang out through your apartment, you raced back to the machine, now wide awake.
“Hi. It’s me. It’s Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m leaving you a message on your voicemail because you haven’t picked up. Your message is funny though, and you sound really pretty. You always sound pretty. Anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to say. I have something to say, and so I am going to say it, because it needs to be said. I like you. Even when I try not to, I can’t help it, I just like you. Not that I have tried actively not liking you at all, just not like liking you. The truth of it is, I just like you. I feel like I’ve said like too many times now and I am not being clear. You just make me smile and happy and warm and nervous and, well, most of the time, I like you. I like being with you and I like listening to you and I like holding your hand and I like you. No. Like isn’t the word. I love you. I worship you. I am enamored with you. I am infatuated with you. You make me want to recite poetry but when you’re right there I get stupid and the words, the words they, they aren’t in my brain so they won’t come out right and I, I just needed to say that you are all the good words and, oh shit…”
The message cut off and you just stood blinking at the machine, not quite sure what the hell had just happened. It was entirely possible that the man you had been crushing on for the past year had just confessed he felt the same, or it might have been the ramblings of a drunk. There was only one way to find out.
Walking into the bullpen, it was incredibly obvious that Reid and Morgan were a little worse for wear.
“I can’t believe you didn’t invite me!” Penelope was pouting at Morgan, who was wearing sunglasses and clutching a large coffee.
“Baby girl, I’m gonna need you to take the volume down a little.” He mumbled, the scene causing you to smirk as you tossed your bag down by your desk.
“Boys night out? You know, you really should take Rossi with you on those, he’d keep you out of trouble.”
“Do you even know Rossi? He would get us into more trouble, then he would casually walk away and leave us there to deal with it.” Morgan groaned into his mug.
“Since when were you such a lightweight? I thought that was Reid.” You chuckled, moving to lean against Spencer’s desk.
“There were shots.” Spence croaked, his eyes still shut.
“Do you not like shots? I thought you might like them. I mean, you know, not like them like them, but just kinda like?” The furrow of Spencer’s brow caused your smile to grow as you saw him trying to figure out what you had just said. With his face scrunched, he opened his eyes and looked up at you.
“I have decided that I do not like shots.”
“Oh, so you’re not enamored with them? You aren’t infatuated with them?” You asked innocently, nudging the cup of coffee on his desk closer to Spencer’s hand. Your words had caught Morgan’s attention, and something sparked in his memory.
“Oh, shit. Pretty boy, voicemail.” A mixture of amusement and concern played on Morgans face as he tried to read the situation through the haze of his hangover.
“Voicemail?” Spencer was thoroughly lost in this conversation and, as usually the smartest person in the room, he really did not like it.
“You called someone last night, before you fell off the bar stool-“
“That’s why it cut off so suddenly! I was wondering about that.”
“I called you?” Spencer got to his feet so quickly his chair span as fast as the room was spinning in his head.
“Woah there.” You placed your hands on his biceps to steady him, wondering if you needed to grab the trashcan for him to throw up.
“I called you?” He asked again, panicked mortification in his tone and written all over his face.
“You did. It was actually a really nice thing to wake up to. I do have some questions though.”
“Questions?” Spencer was mentally kicking himself for not being able to form complete sentences, but the hangover combined with you still touching him, had drained his IQ immeasurably.
“Maybe you need to listen to the message, then you can answer. How about you come round to mine after work and we can grab something to eat, maybe have a Doctor Who marathon? Only if you feel up to it though.”
“Yes!” Spencer said far quicker and louder than he intended, wincing a little with embarrassment.
“Good. We’ll talk more about how you worship me then.” You winked and headed off to make a drink, chuckling to yourself as you heard Morgan teasing Spencer playfully.
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evandarya · 2 years
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Dead Serious
Danny saves Damian from a school bully (Damian was biding his time, he has plans for the bully). Damian is smitten immediately.
Ooo interesting let's see.
Damian liked to keep a low profile at school. He showed up, did his work, didn't bother anyone and then went home. He didn't want trouble, though some of the kids in this school could use some trouble. But, no. He knew very well the punishment for acting out as school was being benched from Robin, so he kept his nose clean. Except some kids didn't like him, for one reason or another.
Like Charles Binkley. The kid was older than Damian by a couple of years, but made it his mission to make every day if Damian's school career a living hell. Like today. Damian saw Binkley coming down the hallway with that glint in his eye. The one that meant he was in a mood and was going to make it Damian's problem.
Damian braced himself for whatever was about to happen. A shoulder check? A verbal assault? Maybe he'd just knock his books out of his hand? Whatever it was wouldn't matter. Damian could take it. And, later tonight, Damian would find Binkley's dorm. Robin had been Binkley's sleep paralysis demon for a while now.
"Hey, Wayne!" Binkley bellowed down the hall. "You got a perfect score on that algebra test, didn't you?"
Of course, he did. "What's it to you?"
"You wrecked the curve, and I failed because of you." Binkley was looming over him, now. Damian could see a bit of bread stuck in his teeth. Gross.
"You failed because you spend half the class staring at Mr. McAdam's ass." Damian shot back.
Binkley grabbed Damian by the front of his blazer and shoved him back against the lockers. "I should fuck you up for that."
A hand, pale with long slender fingers wrapped around Binkley's wrist. "You should put him down." Damian looked over to the new guy, his voice was low and dangerous.
"Or what? What are you going to do, Fenton?" Binkley spat. Fenton just gripped Binkley's meaty wrist tighter. Damian could see it turning red then white under the pressure. Was it his imagination, or was that the sound of wrist bones shifting?
"Put him down, or I break it." Fenton was dead serious. When Binkley didn't immediately comply Fenton said "you have three seconds. One. Two-"
"Ah ah! alright! Let go." Binkley dropped Damian and Fenton dropped his wrist, already starting to swell. "You won't always have your creepy friend around to save you, Wayne." Binkley said as he practically ran from them.
Once he turned the corner, Fenton turned to Damian, ice blue eyes roaming over him. "Are you alright? Not hurt?"
"yeah, no, I'm fine." Damian said, smoothing down his blazer. "I'm Damian."
"Danny." The other boy said with a grin that sent Damian's stomach into a summersault. "I'll see you around, Damian."
And with that, Danny disappeared into the rush of students heading toward their next class.
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gaugevectormoron · 12 days
Text
speaking of algebraic QFT, one of the classic references is Bob Wald's Quantum Field Theory in Curved Spacetime and Black Hole Thermodynamics, which is a wonderful read except that it has possibly the ugliest mathematical typesetting I have ever seen. Chicago was experimenting with upright sans-serif maths, and moreover made a terrible choice of script font and \langle and \rangle
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