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thelovelydreamer17 · 4 years

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“Image Credit: Carol Rossetti

When Brazilian graphic designer Carol Rossetti began posting colorful illustrations of women and their stories to Facebook, she had no idea how popular they would become.

Thousands of shares throughout the world later, the appeal of Rosetti’s work is clear. Much like the street art phenomenon Stop Telling Women To Smile, Rossetti’s empowering images are the kind you want to post on every street corner, as both a reminder and affirmation of women’s bodily autonomy.

“It has always bothered me, the world’s attempts to control women’s bodies, behavior and identities,” Rossetti told Mic via email. “It’s a kind of oppression so deeply entangled in our culture that most people don’t even see it’s there, and how cruel it can be.”

Rossetti’s illustrations touch upon an impressive range of intersectional topics, including LGBTQ identity, body image, ageism, racism, sexism and ableism. Some characters are based on the experiences of friends or her own life, while others draw inspiration from the stories many women have shared across the Internet.

“I see those situations I portray every day,” she wrote. “I lived some of them myself.”

Despite quickly garnering thousands of enthusiastic comments and shares on Facebook, the project started as something personal — so personal, in fact, that Rossetti is still figuring out what to call it. For now, the images reside in albums simply titled “WOMEN in english!“ or ”Mujeres en español!“ which is fitting: Rossetti’s illustrations encompass a vast set of experiences that together create a powerful picture of both women’s identity and oppression.

One of the most interesting aspects of the project is the way it has struck such a global chord. Rossetti originally wrote the text of the illustrations in Portuguese, and then worked with an Australian woman to translate them to English. A group of Israeli feminists also took it upon themselves to create versions of the illustrations in Hebrew. Now, more people have reached out to Rossetti through Facebook and offered to translate her work into even more languages. Next on the docket? Spanish, Russian, German and Lithuanian.

It’s an inspiring show of global solidarity, but the message of Rossetti’s art is clear in any language. Above all, her images celebrate being true to oneself, respecting others and questioning what society tells us is acceptable or beautiful.

“I can’t change the world by myself,” Rossetti said. “But I’d love to know that my work made people review their privileges and be more open to understanding and respecting one another.””

From the site: All images courtesy Carol Rossetti and used with permission. You can find more illustrations, as well as more languages, on her Facebook page.

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thelovelydreamer17 · 4 years

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This is so good!!!! I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen

Chapter Two- Lost but Not Forgotten

Notes: As always, this was inspired by @afictionaladventure16’s series called Safe and Sound. I mean no disrespect to any real person I wrote into this story, and the tag list is open until January 31st (although I may extend the deadline). This is updated every Wednesday :)

Series description: You were adopted on your sixth birthday by your loving parents, Emilia and Jason. You’re finishing up junior year of high school with flying colors, you have a great friend and an even better family. Simple story, right?

Wrong.

You have these dreams, weird dreams with a man that looks eerily like you. You brush it off as nothing, just old memories of your biological family.

Then you’re assigned a research paper on anything that you want. You choose to research a cold case. Physical similarities are there: a malformed ear, birth marks, and a striking resemblance to an aged-up composite sketch, as well an unclear information about your adoption make you uneasy. Uneasy enough to take action.

After that, your world comes crashing down.

You weren’t adopted. You were kidnapped.

Chapter description: You attempt to find out the truth about your adoption, go back to therapy, and make some interesting discoveries about your past. Meanwhile, the head agent on your case investigates someone of interest in Puerto Rico, and Robert is tired.

Previous chapter: Chapter One

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains explicit discussions about anxiety, depression, and PTSD as well as swearing, manipulation, gaslighting, therapy sessions, and mental health diagnosis. Please do not read this if any of those things trigger you.

Word count: 4.9k

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thelovelydreamer17 · 4 years

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The Lost Adventures - Teaser

Summary: Starting junior year in a new school halfway through the semester was already hard, but after you and your biology partner make an alarming discovery it was starting to look like a walk in the park.

Relationships: Robert Downey Jr. x Daughter! Reader, Eventual Tom Holland x Reader (As in later in the series)

Word Count: 1,932

Warnings: Slight mentions of anxiety

Prompt: “I’m sorry, you’re what now?”

A/N: Here is my part in @afictionaladventure16 2K Celebration Challenge! It is loosely inspired by their series Safe and Sound, one of my all-time favorite stories. I haven’t posted anything in a long time, so go easy on me, please! This is sort of a prologue/teaser for the storyline. I have a lot of ideas on where to take this, should anyone want to read it. I hope you enjoy and have a Happy New Year!

You paced back and forth in front of the couch, biting on the side of your thumb. Indio was supposed to be here five minutes ago, you only had so much time before Robert was done filming and would be coming back. The minutes were counting down as your worry went up. As you crawled into the fifteen-minute mark you decided that this was ridiculous. Grabbing your bag off the counter, you swung it over your shoulder and hurried to the trailer door to get the hell out of here before anyone came back. Just as you were about to open the door, it swung open nearly hitting you clear across the face.

“Shit, Y/N.” Indie waited until you had moved back before pushing it open enough so that he could slip in. He set the small cardboard box he was holding down on the little kitchen table and kicked the door shut with his foot.

“You’re late.” You started to pace again, not being able to sit still.

“I know, sorry.” He opened the box and started to pull out what you were going to need. “Mom was home and it took longer than I thought to sneak it away from her and then Andre stopped me at the front gate to talk about school.”

“He’s going to be here any minute.” You let him take the bag out of your hands, crossing you then freed arms against your stomach. “This is a horrible idea.”

“It’s a great idea, and I got Holland to try and stall him. It should work for a few minutes. Now come sit down and please stop pacing. You’re making me anxious.”

You looked at him incredulously, “I’m making you anxious? How are you not already anxious?”

“Because I know this is a good idea and I’ve been wanting to do this from the start.” He sighed and stood up, halting your steps as he placed your hands on your shoulders, grounding you. “I can remember the few years after you were taken when he was so full of grief and worry that he would drink himself into a haze, and then when that wouldn’t work he would switch to drugs just to make it a little easier. It took him years to finally come to terms with what happened, and get clean, but I know that he still struggles with it.

“Every year on our birthday we light a candle for you, mom always will make a small little cupcake and we light the candle and make a wish that even if you don’t come back to us, that you are happy and safe and loved.” You wiped your eyes with the heel of your hand, letting out a sniff.

“If only that wish came true.” He wraps you up in a hug, the solid six inches he had over you making it feel like a warm blanket.

“And that is why we are doing this, so that can be true.” Giving you a kiss on the top of the head he pushed you away, “Now, let’s get this show on the road. Holland won’t be able to keep him away much longer and we need to get your nerves under control and get a plan together.”

You wiped your eyes once more and nodded. Indie gave you a soft smile before handing you the box you kept in your bag.

“I honestly don’t know what half the shit in here is,” You let out a laugh and took it from him, walking over to join him at the table. He had started to lay out the papers and documents that you were going to use as both proof and evidence. You still hadn’t decided if you were going to press charges, but Indie was sure that Robert would want to.

You had just placed down your copy of adoption records when the door burst open once more, this time without nearly knocking you out. Your eyes shot up and you felt your throat clench when you saw Robert standing in the doorway, a confused look on his face. Tom popped up over his shoulder, mouthing an apology to the two of you. Quickly putting down the papers, you took a half step away from the table as Indio tried to fix the situation.

“Hey, Dad. How was filming?” He ever so carefully slid the papers under each other behind his back, and your thumbnail ended up between your teeth once more.

“It was good, now does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” He fully entered the room, crossing his arms as he raised his brows at his son. “I’m assuming this has to do with Holland trying to get me to taste everything at the buffet table?”

You shot Tom a look of wonder, and he just shrugged, stepping into the trailed and closing the door behind him.

“You guys said to stall him and I ran out of ideas.” You stared at him a moment longer until he added, “And I was also hungry.”

Indie let out a chuckle and was about to add to the conversation when Robert interrupted him again.

“Aren’t you the biology partner?” He was looking straight at you and you felt your face heat up without your approval. You nodded, your eyes flashing between Indie’s and Tom’s. If you were anxious before, you were damn near a heart attack now. This was not how this was supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen this way.

“Yeah, she is.” Indie said slowly, “But there’s something else that she is as well, something that we need to tell you.”

“Are you two dating?” You let out a high pitched laugh that sounded slightly on the verge of hysteria.

“Dating, oh my god what is happening.” Your voice had risen three octaves and you run your hands through your hair before sitting down on the edge of the couch. You could feel their eyes on you, and Indio inched closer, letting you know of his unspoken support.

“No, we’re definitely not dating.” He let out a sigh, turning around to grab all the papers behind you in an unorganized clump. “You’re probably going to want to sit down.”

He walked over and sat next to you, leaving Robert to the armchair directly across from you both. Neither of you noticed as Tom snuck out of the trailer to give the three of you time to talk.

“Do you have the test results?” Indie asked you, mentioning the DNA results that started this all.

You nodded and grabbed the box off the side table, digging through it until you produced the two thick pieces of paper. They were the official DNA results, you had both figured that the classwork would not suffice in this situation.

“Okay, so I’m not really sure where to start this.” Indio glanced at you, and for the first time that day, he looked unsure of the situation. You gnawed on your lip, looking down at the papers that were just out of view of his dad.

“Dio, what’s going on. You know you can tell me anything.” Robert said softly, making you both look up at him. Seeing the truth in his face, you made the decision for both of you. Grabbing the papers out of Indie’s hands you arranged them into a way that would make sense and passed them over to Robert. He took them, his eyes not leaving yours as he scrunched his forehead in confusion.

“Just read them. We can explain anything else afterward.” He nodded and started to look through them, switching pages every few seconds. You felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room as you waited for him to finish. When he got to the DNA results, his eyes flashed upward, looking between the both of you with suspicion. Finally, he set them down on the table between you and crossed his arms over his chest. Your gaze met Indie’s as you both wondered what the older man was thinking.

It was silent, the tension in the room building until your leg started to shake again on its own accord.

“I don’t understand what this means.” One look at Indio’s face told you that he wasn’t going to be any help, and you were forced to bite the bullet yourself.

“I’m your daughter, his twin.” There was a moment's pause and when no reaction was made you continued on. “I was taken for what I think was this illegal black market adoption ring, people would steal kids and them sell them for a lot of money for this ring who would them sell them to other people who would think it was a legit adoption company. Usually rich, desperate people.

I would have stayed there with them, but they were in a car crash a few years after they adopted me and I was put into foster care. I bounced around for a while until I ended up at the school that was partnered with Hamptons Bay for a Bio project, a DNA comparison project. Indie and I happened to be paired up, and we figured it out but then there was the contest, and then the Thymes and I wanted to wait but Indie and Tom said that we shouldn’t, and we were going to do this in a smoother way where we could ease you into the idea, but then Indie was late and you were coming and so we just had to blurt it out and,”

He cut you off, making your mouth close with a clank of your teeth.

“I’m sorry, you’re what now?” He looked at you, then changed his gaze to his son who had been awfully quiet since the conversation started.

“She’s what now?” Swallowing Indie flipped through the papers on the counter before pulling out the two DNA results and your original birth certificate and the fake copy that the adoption ring had made.

“She’s my twin, your daughter.” He laid all four out in front of Robert, “She’s Y/N.”

This time, Robert took in the information and understood what he was looking at. You could see his eyes start to water and when he looked up at you again you could see that he understood.

“It really is you.” He said it softly, a tone that you had never heard in the movies and interviews you had seen of him. It was a tone that was reserved only for his family. “You came back.”

He stood up and moved over to crouch in front of you. Gently, he unraveled your arms and took your hands in his, his grip loose enough to allow you to pull away should you choose. When you didn’t, his grip tightened slightly as he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand.

“We’ve missed you, Kid. You might not remember us, and to you, we’re probably strangers, but I have never stopped loving you or believe that you were still out there. Never.” You felt your own eyes water slightly at his words. Nobody had ever told you something with so much love and trust. This as a man you barely knew who had shown you more kindness in the last half an hour than anyone had in the past ten years. Sure, you had some good homes, with some nice parents, but they had never loved or cared for you as Robert claimed he did.

#afictionaladventure16celebration #robert downey jr x daughter!reader #robert downey jr x daughter #robert downey jr x reader #tom holland x reader #rdj x daughter #Marvel cast x reader #Marvel x reader

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thelovelydreamer17 · 5 years

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ATTENTION ALL GIRLS AND LADIES: if you walk from home, school, office or anywhere and you are alone and you come across a little boy crying holding a piece of paper with an address on it, DO NOT TAKE HIM THERE! take him straight to the police station for this is the new 'gang' way of rape. The incident is getting worse. Warn your families. Reblog this so this message can get accross to everyone.

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thelovelydreamer17 · 5 years

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#chris evans #in where he is actually steve rogers

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thelovelydreamer17 · 7 years

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"Everyone can sparkle with enough glitter but only the stars can twinkle. Coffee?"

If you're a writer and you see this post, stop what you're doing.

WHENEVER YOU SEE THIS POST ON YOUR DASH, STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND WRITE ONE SENTENCE FOR YOUR CURRENT PROJECT.

Just one sentence. Stop blogging for one minute and write a single sentence. It could be dialogue, it could be a nice description of scenery, it could be a metaphor, I don’t care. The point is, do it. Then, when you finish, you can get back to blogging.

If this gets viral, you might just have your novel finished by next Tuesday.

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thelovelydreamer17 · 7 years

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Don’t Tell Anyone, but I’m Dead

Summary: Sam starts having strange dreams about a familiar girl, the answer will end up causing him more heartache than he deserved.

Warnings: Angst, mention of death/torture, drunk-ness, sad Sammy

Word Count: 2443

Challenge: This is for the Impossible Prompt Challenge, my prompts being

“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m dead,” and “I think I drank too much apple juice.

“Sam”

“Sammy”

“Sam, where are you?”

“Sammy, are you coming?”

“I miss you…”

Sam leapt up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily with his hands resting on his knees. His floppy brown hair slick with sweat was hanging in his eyes, giving him a distorted view on reality. He looked over at the motel bed next to him where is sleeping brother was currently situated. He tried to quiet his breaths, hoping to let Dean get some much needed sleep after these long couple nights. This same dream has occurred over and over again, making him long for something that wasn’t there.

Deciding that he wouldn’t get anymore sleep Sam threw his long legs over the side of the bed before pushing his tired muscles up and walking into the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the grimy mirror, wondering how the dark-circled, desperate eyes looking back at him could be his. Just a month ago he was happier than he could remember being in a long while. Him and Dean had gotten settled in the Bunker, finally finding a home. The world seemed to be balanced for now and he had been able to live a semi-normal life, for them at least. But then it all went downhill. First there was this case, a serial killer ghost on the loose, hunting down victims with no plausible connection in sight. Then, there was the fight him and Dean had about John. It was stupid really, and got brought up when one of the victims was a nine year old kid, driven out of the house by an argument with his grieving father. The kid reminded Sam very much of himself when he was younger, desperate to get away from his father and become his own person. Finally there were the dreams. They usually featured a black abyss, nothing in sight except for that haunting voice. Her voice was so familiar that it almost hurt, causing Sam even more confusion.

A crash made Sam jump, running into the main room expecting to see Dean fighting some ghost. Instead he was greeted by his lovely brother lying on the floor. Rather than questioning a situation that was probably better left unsaid he walked over and reached down, offering his assistance. Dean glared at his amused face before taking his hand and allowing Sam to heave him upwards. Dean shoved him away before muttering “Bitch” and walking into the bathroom himself, probably to wash away his embarrassing misfortune. Sam took this time to lay back down, hoping to catch a couple more minutes of rest before they headed out to question the young boy’s father.

He was standing in a dark, old barn, the wooden sides peeling away with rotten wood and the air heavy with smoke and mold. Covering his mouth Sam turns around, scanning the barn for anything clue as to where and why he might be there. His eyes fell on a cloaked figure, hunched in the corner, cry softly to itself. He was instantly on alert, creeping towards the figure with caution. Just before he reached its back, the thing turned around in fright, showing him that ‘it’ was really a girl, well woman, around his age.

You could hardly tell she was a woman, there was so much dirt smeared across her hollow face, excentuating her sunken cheeks and pale green eyes. In fact the only way Sam could even tell she was human was from her desperate grip on an equally dirty doll and the her panicked breaths.

The doll’s pink frilly dress was ripped with a red stain on it that was way too close to the color of old, dried blood. He knew that startling her could end badly, so he hunched his tall frame over, and slowly walked towards her before crouching down. He opened his mouth, planning on asking her where they were when she beat him to it.

“Sammy.” It was just that single word that shook Sam to the core. How did this woman know his name? She had said it with such certainty, positive that he was Sam. He figured that asking her outright wouldn’t be the smartest idea, so he decided to get as much information as possible from her before trying to connect it all.

“Hi. That’s a really pretty doll you have, what’s her name?” Her focus was still on the doll, not even glancing at him. She stayed quiet for so long Sam was beginning to wonder if she had even heard him, but just as he was about to ask she jumped up, startling him into jumping up as well, getting into a defensive crouch.

“Misery, I named her misery. The yellow man told me it was a pretty name, and he’s smart so he must know.” She snapped her head up to his, looking up at him with childlike eyes. Now that they were standing it was apparent that she was unusually short, only coming up to his chest. She stared at him for a minute before turning and grabbing his hand, pulling him to the other side of the barn where a old milk crate was overturned, creating a small table. She pushed him down on one side with incredible force before sitting on the other.

“I’ve missed you Sam. You were gone so long, but I knew you would come. I told him that you would come back.” Before Sam had the chance to ask her where he knew her from, he felt the world start to blur.

“Can I tell you a secret Sammy? Do you promise not to tell?” His world continued to blur out, giving her a ominous expression on her twisted face. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m dead.”

Sam jumped up, grasping onto Dean’s arm with a death grip while coughing loudly, desperately trying to get air into his longing lungs. He could hear Dean talking to him, trying to figure out what was wrong but all he could focus on was his lack of air. He continued to gasp for breath, not letting go of his brother’s arm as black spots started to dance in front of his eyes. This made him panic even further, causing tears to come to his tired eyes. That was enough to alarm Dean, worried for his younger brother.

“Hey, hey Sammy, look at me.” Sam felt a hand on his face, gripping it tightly, reassuringly, before his eyes locked on the apple green ones of his brother. “There you go, calm down buddy. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Sam slowly started to find his breath, his eyes never leaving Dean’s as he continued to whisper calming words. “You’re okay, just breath. There you go, deep breaths Sammy.”

It took a full ten minutes for Sam to completely calm down, tears still running down his face, but he could now breath steadily. He hung his head down, trying to get a handle on his emotions. Dean, wanting to give his brother sometime to compose himself attempted to get up from the bed, letting go of Sam to get him a cup of water when a desperate grasp on his arm pulled him back. Looking down he saw the fear in Sam’s eyes and instantly was back at his side, ignoring the pain coming the death grip on his arms.

“What’s goin’ on buddy? You haven’t had a panic attack like that in a while.” Dean was used to helping Sam through those when they were younger, but every since he went off to college, Dean figured the attacks just stopped.

“There’s this girl, and I-I keep seeing her in my dreams, but she’s so familiar and not okay.” Sam rushed out in a breath, trying to get Dean to understand.

“A girl, way to go Sam.” Trying to make the situation lighthearted, Dean figured that Sam was freaking out about the girl from the dinner who had been flirting with him. “Is it that girl, Christy from the dinner? Man, Sam she was all over you.”

“No! Dean it, it was a girl and she was crazy, she seemed crazy, and she had this old doll that was blood stained an-and wearing this pink dress. She knew my name and told me that she had been waiting for me, that she was Dead.” This melted the smirk right from Dean’s face and put chills down his spine like no ghost had before.

“What did she look like?” Sam looked up, hearing the blank tone in which Dean had asked. He tipped his head to the side slightly, almost resembling a confused puppy.

“Um, she was about my age, short though, really short. She probably only went up to my chest. Uhh, she had long-ish brown hair, almost like a blonde that had been soaked in mud. She had green eyes and a little birthmark on her chin-”

“A birthmark?” Dean cut him off.

“Yeah, it almost looked like a stretched out star.” This had Dean jumping to his feet, a cold glare at home in his eyes. He walked over to his duffel, ripping it open and tearing threw it with haste. Sam shifted slightly on the bed, pulling one of his legs up while watching Dean with curiosity.

Meanwhile, Dean grabbed a single piece of paper out from the bottom of the bag before thrusting it in Sam’s hands. “Did it look like that? Is that the birthmark.”

The picture was of two babies lying next to a young boy on the couch. The boy was obviously Dean, and he gazed down at the other two with clear devotion on his young face. One of the babies, a girl, had a misshapen star resting on her chubby chin, just like the woman.

“Yeah, just like that. Dean what’s going on? How did you know her? Why am I dreaming about her?” Sam looked up at Dean, the picture still grasped in his shaking hands.

“Her name is Y/N, and Sam, she’s your twin sister.”

Dean had then gone on to explain that Y/N had been in the nursery with Sam that night so many years ago, and she didn’t end up making it out of the house. By the time John got there to see Mary on the ceiling and to grab Sam, Azazel had little Y/N in his slimy hands. John had been so distracted with Mary that he didn’t notice until the fire started, but by then he knew that he was too late, and had to let his little girl go in order to save Sam and Dean. John was so upset about his lose that he pushed it away, told Dean that they would never tell anyone about her, and left it alone for thirty years. He ended up taking that secret to the grave with him and leaving Dean to deal with the aftermath. It was about that time that Sam stormed out of the motel, keys in hand with the intention to get shit-faced drunk.

That was where Dean found Sam, at the local bar, a pile of shot glasses surrounding him. He sighed before waving at the bartender, telling her that Sam was his brother, and he was here to take him home. She gave him a sympathetic smile before handing over Baby’s keys and wishing him good luck. Giving Sam a sorry look he grabbed his shoulder and hoisted him up, arm resting on Dean’s shoulders.

“Come on Sam, let’s head back home.” Sam mumbled something into Dean’s shoulder but Dean figured that now was not the time to try to understand his brother’s drunk gibberish and continued out into the parking lot.

Finding Baby was easy as she was the only car left in the front of the lot. Dean dragged Sam over, opening the door with one hand while trying to keep him steady with the other. Finally, after much struggle he managed to get Sam into the passenger seat before hoping in the driver’s side himself. He turned and glanced at Sam before giving him an amused smile, but his eyes shown with the pain that he now shared with his brother. He knew that it wasn’t right to keep the last bit of information on Y/N from Sam, and he knew that Sam would ask, but he wanted to save the poor kid from even more heartache.

A loud burp interrupted Dean from his train of thoughts, making him look back over at the drunk giant. He had a sheepish expression on his face, making him look like a child caught with cookie crumbs on their hands.

“I think I drank too much apple juice.” This made Dean laugh, giving him a lighthearted moment to focus on rather than the impending discussion.

“Oh Sammy, that was not apple juice.” A snore went through the car before he even finished the sentence, announcing the giant's slumber. With that, Dean put Baby in drive and started his way back to the motel.

It was one week later that Sam worked himself enough to finally ask the dreaded question, where was Y/N. It had been late at night, neither of the Winchester boys able to sleep, both staring up at the cracked ceiling. Sam had opened and closed his mouth multiple times and almost decided against the idea, knowing that the answer couldn’t have been a good one. It seemed his mouth had a mind of its own though, because just as he decided not to ask, the question came flying out before he could stop it.

“What happened to her?” He didn’t need to clarify who, that much was obvious. Dean closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to say it. He wanted to wake up and find that this was all a dream, but that wouldn’t happen, and it was time to face the music.

“She- Sammy, she was taken by Azazel, Dad and I didn’t know what happened, we figured that she had died in the fire or whatever but, when Dad died I found an entry in his journal, one that he wrote days before the showdown. Apparently Azazel wanted to test the Winchester strength, and what better way to do it then on a helpless six-month year old. He- he took he to hell, put her on the rack and never took her off. She has been in hell for thirty fucking years and we have no way to get her back. She’s gone Sam, she’s gone and there’s now way for us to stop her constant torture.”

Sam was right, he should have never asked.

@nickiwinchester97 @rosie-winchester

#supernatural one shots #supernatural imagines #supernatural sisfic #supernatural sister!reader #supernatural #dean x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #impossible prompt challenge

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thelovelydreamer17 · 7 years

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I'M DOING AN EXPERIMENT

To prove something to a friend, please

REBLOG IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES

LIKE IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS DON’T BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES

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thelovelydreamer17 · 7 years

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Yes. Yes it was😊

No Complaints!

Jared x Platonic! Reader, Jensen x Platonic! Reader, Gen and Dannel mentioned.

Summary: You are Jared and Gen’s future adopted daughter as well as an actor for the character Emily Winchester, Sam’s unknown daughter. Just a normal day on set that ends in the promise of no complaints.

Warnings: Fluff, J2, slight spoilers for season 11, mentions of parental death and car accidents

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thelovelydreamer17 · 7 years

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No Complaints!

Jared x Platonic! Reader, Jensen x Platonic! Reader, Gen and Dannel mentioned.

Warnings: Fluff, J2, slight spoilers for season 11, mentions of parental death and car accidents

Word count: 713

A/N: So I am currently procrastinating my homework and decided what better way to waste time than to write! I have been thinking about this for a while so I decided to just write it. I know very little about adoption agencies, so what I wrote could be entirely inaccurate, but keep in mind this is all fiction and it should all be good. Hope you Enjoy! P.S, extra bonus points to whoever knows what the final line is from;)

The bunker was silent, bringing a calm feeling to the desperation that always seemed to be choking it’s inhabitants ever sense the darkness got released. A door slammed in the distance, disrupting the quiet. Emily Winchester looked up from her book and sat up from her position on her bed. Switching her book for her gun, she crept towards the door, slowly turned the knob before pushing it open just enough for her to sneak her body out. Quickly closing the door behind her she hugged the hallway wall hoping to have the element of surprise against whatever was in her home. Hearing footsteps approach her she started tensing her muscles and slowing her breathing, doing everything she could to prepare for what she was about to face. It could be anything, a demon, a vamp, an angel, the devil, or even dear old Amara herself. When the footsteps got as close to her as they could without seeing her she raised her gun, ready to jump out and-

“Ahhhhhh” A scream was ripped from her throat as a hand grabbed her shoulder from behind her, rather than in front like it was supposed to be.

“Cut” A booming voice yelled from the distance as you bent over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Laughing surrounded you, causing you to glare at the giant man-child that was responsible for you sudden lack of breath.

“You should've seen you face!” He managed between breaths, clapping his hands together and throwing his head back, whipping his mane of bronze hair in a very lion like way. You straightened and made sour face, placing your hands on your hips and attempting to stare your cast mate down from you place below him.

“Oh hardy har har, lets just scare the crap out of Y/n. I think you forgot the power I hold over you gigantic. Don’t think I won’t call up Gen, crying about the emotional distress you put me through.” You smirked as a panicked expression took home on his tan face. Ever sense the Padaleckis made the decision to adopt you, giving you the ‘forever home’ you had been looking for since your parents died in a car accident when you were little you had been especially close with Gen, making her not only you mother figure but also your older sister and best friend. They grew a instant connection with you as soon as you were casted as Emily Winchester, Sam’s unknown daughter, and the second they heard that your character might have to be killed off from your change in foster parents they knew they had to do something. Even thought they wanted to adopt you right away, the adoption agency demanded that there be a six month trial period to try and limit bad fits. You were now reaching the end of five months, meaning that in one month you would become the daughter of some of the best parents, and officially have the Padalecki name.

“Oh man, she got you there.” Jensen came from around the corner, him having been the unknown enemy walking down the bunker hallways. You turned towards him with raised eyebrows, not even waiting a split second before reaching over and smacking him over the back of the head.

“Ow, what the hell?” He covered his head with his hands while winning playfully.

“Who says I won’t tell Danni that it was your idea?” This made them both have the most scared and hurt puppy dog looks you could imagine. The idea that both of their wives, the best friends who had become very attached to you ganging up on them was more frightening than Lucifer himself.

You smirked at them before turning and walking back towards hair and makeup, wanting to get it touched up after sweating half of it off from fear. You heard them start to rush off of you, but then get called away by a PA, directing them back to set.

“Wait! Y/n! Don't tell them! I’ll buy you ice-cream and we can watch Teen Wolf tonight! No complaints!” You hear a desperate Jared yell from over the PAs head. You laughed and turned around, nodding before running back to the trailer, stopping briefly to jump and click your heels together in victory. Today was going to be a good day and here’s why.

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