#Nacho Fry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neighbourscat · 13 days ago

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𝐈𝐌𝐔 || 𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣

𓈒 ˙ ꪆৎ ꣹ ۫ 𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . attached!rafe cameron X detached!black!fem!reader. ||

𓈒 ˙ ꪆৎ ꣹ ۫ 𖨂 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 . .. . lowercase intended! second person reading-perspective. mature language! mentions of societal divide: status and racial. wordcount :: 3.4k!++

𓈒 ˙ ꪆৎ ꣹ ۫ 𖨂 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . imu, vontee the singer ft. cash cobain ! || void, the neighbourhood !

UNABLE TO SETTLE, UNABLE TO STAY STILL

the kildare roller rink wasn’t just a place — it was an experience. a fever dream of neon lights, thumping bass, and spinning wheels that blurred the world into streaks of color. the second you stepped inside, the scent smacked you first — warm buttered popcorn, cherry slushies, and the unmistakable tang of sweat and cheap cologne. it wasn’t fancy, but it felt like magic.

a glowing sign flickered above the entrance, its bubblegum-pink letters whirring, promising a night of reckless fun. inside, the floor stretched out in smooth, polished wood, reflecting the colorful lights that swung lazily from the ceiling. strips of LEDs ran along the perimeter of the rink, pulsing in time with the music — bright yellows, electric blues, hot pinks, and fiery reds, shifting and twisting like a living thing.

at the center of it all hung a massive disco ball, spinning slow, catching the light just right so that every corner of the rink sparkled. the DJ booth sat raised above the chaos, an old-school neon "ON AIR" sign blinking as the latest pop banger blasted through the speakers, bass so deep you could feel it in your chest.

skaters moved in waves — some gliding effortlessly, weaving through the crowd like they were born with wheels strapped to their feet. others stumbled, laughing, grabbing onto each other, the joy of it all infectious. the regulars showed off, spinning, dancing, their wheels catching the light with every move.

the arcade corner hummed with life, screens flashing as kids mashed buttons, trying to beat high scores. the air buzzed with energy — squeals of excitement, the clack of skeeball tickets spilling out, the occasional groan of someone wiping out on the rink.

near the snack bar, friends crowded around tables covered in sticky soda rings, sipping from oversized slushie cups, fingers dusted with nacho cheese and pretzel salt. a jukebox sat in the corner, untouched but glowing, a relic of a time before playlists and aux cords.

the best part? the feeling. that sense of being young and invincible, like the night could stretch on forever, like nothing outside the doors mattered. just music, motion, and that electric rush of wheels on wood — it was perfect.

the brilliant purple wheels of your skates stuck a little around the thin beer-stained carpet as you dragged yourself toward the booth where your people were spread out, their table covered in a mess of half-eaten pizzas, empty slushie cups, skittles packets, and crumpled napkins — purple and pink lights streaked across your skin, shimmering against the rings on your fingers.

milah was the first to spot you, leaning back against the booth with that easy smirk of hers. “look at’chu go! lookin’ all graceful and hot!” she had to shout over chris brown’s vocals; fine china. an early 2010s classic, honestly.

you rolled the last few inches, gripping the table to stop yourself, one hip knocking into naima’s shoulder as you slid into the space next to her. “hush, ‘kay? it’s an art form. trust.” milah’s smirk flattened and jabari, mid-sip, raised an eyebrow. “an art form? almost ate it jus’now.”

milah bit down on her lip, concealing a laugh. you ignored his slick comment, stealing a fry from the basket in front of naima. chris brown faded into soulja boy’s kiss me thru the phone, smoothly, and naima couldn’t contain herself — singing and rocking her body as she did so. chewing on naima’s fries, you let your eyes scan the meal area;

at one table, a kook quad in oversized sweatshirts and scrunched-up socks shared a basket of fries, their brightly colored nails tapping against their phones as they gossiped between bites. one of them laughed too loud, head thrown back, her roller skates tapping against the floor beneath the table.

at the counter, a kook couple argued over their order, the girl poking a manicured finger into the guy’s chest while he waved a hot dog in his hand like a weapon. strange, but .. whatever, right?

at another, a trio of pogues rested back in their chairs, their skates propped up on the table, arguing about .. everything. another late-night debate it looked like. which was cool. you popped into a few whenever one called for an outside perspective. an extra brain.

someone walked by holding a massive slice of pizza that drooped comically, hot cheese stretching dangerously close to the floor. and in the corner, a girl with a mess of curls and ripped jeans counted a wad of crumpled bills, nodding along as a friend whispered something in her ear — something about a bet, a deal, or trouble waiting to happen.

it took a moment for your eyes to land .. a small bundle of kook girls surrounded rafe cameron and topper thornton like they were part of the decor — pretty, expensive, and placed exactly where they wanted to be. they lounged in the neat booth ( one of the best ); male arms draped over the backs of the seats, feminine nails tapping against soda cups, their grating laughter somehow cutting through soulja boy.

one of them, blonde, with sun-kissed skin and a permanent look of boredom, twirled a straw between her fingers, her eyes lazily drifting around the area like nothing here was worth her full attention. the other, wearing a cropped designer hoodie and hoop earrings the size of her fist, leaned into topper, whispering something against his ear that made the corner of his mouth twitch — not quite a smirk, not quite a scowl.

across from him, a girl with long, dark waves and a country-club grin popped a gumball into her mouth, watching the rink like it was a stage and she was waiting for something hilarious to happen. beside her, another girl checked her reflection in her phone screen, adjusting her golden hair even though it was already perfect.

they weren’t just here to skate. they were here to be seen, to exist effortlessly in a space where everyone knew their names. and above all, they were here because rafe was here.

and rafe? he didn’t seem to care. or maybe he did, but not in the way they wanted him to. his gaze had once been stuck to the rink, now .. the meal area. he barely touched the drink in front of him, barely reacted when one of the girls traced a lazy pattern across his arm, “hey?” she tried. and nothing.

because the truth was, while they sat close enough to feel important, none of them really had his attention.

but someone else did.

your eyes refocused on your friends, you didn’t notice it .. you couldn’t feel rafe staring — and no, he wasn’t being discreet or quiet about it either. topper could practically see the distorted hearts wizzing and floating around the crown of rafe’s head like a social media filter. he followed his friend’s line of sight and choked out a laugh .. rafe disregarded him. and topper let out a quick sigh of relief; realizing that he had put up a ‘chill-out-rafe’ mental wall.

“wanna bet on who busts their ass first?” dark waves and popping bubblegum; shelby kennedy. topper, blood rushing, gave a frantic nod, drumming his heavy hands on the table — shaking it. rafe remained silent, unmoving. as the girls pulled clean fifties from their wallets, topper knocked the table — rafe switched his gaze, finally. “yo .. bro ..? wake the hell up. get out a fifty, let’s go.”

rafe watched as they disappeared, leaving their trash and other belongings, they’ll be back for it. he wasn’t in the mood to overlook the rink and laugh at anyone who tumbled and tripped over another. unfortunately ( very fortunate ). alone, his blue eyes reverted — and you were gone. you and your entire group. the table had been cleared.

in under a few seconds? he thought, irritated.

he stood from the booth, grabbing his phone and dropping it into his back pocket. rafe stepped from the meal area and touched down on the lower level of worn carpet. he moved slowly, methodically, a quiet predator in a room full of noise and blinding lights.

he studied it all. not with interest, but with the heightened focus of someone looking for a specific target. searching. rafe glanced at the cliques gathered in clusters ( scanning every body as they whirled past, each face fleeting ); preteens spinning in circles, arms thrown out, laughing so hard. couples skating side-by-side, oblivious to anything except their own little world. over the skater girls practicing spins, the boys messing around, showing their tricks.

beyoncé’s blow dissolved .. the instrumental of loveeeeeee song came to life — and his stare locked on you like a trigger had been pulled; complete. fro; big and bouncy, you were skating near the far side of the rink, natural and unbothered. effortlessly weaving through others, smooth and in tune with rihanna’s lyrics. you made it look easy — so much easier than it really was.

rafe didn’t move, didn’t blink. he just watched — every curve, every glide, the way your body .. gyrated with the rhythm of future’s verse. he could feel the quiet hum of the crowd around, the background noise fading into static as his world narrowed down to just you ..

he moved around more, casually, not in a rush — there was no need. he wasn’t about to rush into anything. and he found his spot .. where the overhead lights seemed to glitter even brighter. he stood at the barrier walls, hands pushed into the built-stone. he tilted his head just slightly, forearms resting on the ledge now, watching with more intensity.

— doja cat’s need to know.

there was a .. strange tug at the pit of his stomach, something unfamiliar and strong, a feeling that seemed to melt through him the more he watched. rafe swallowed thickly, his grip on the edge of the rink tightening almost unconsciously — you rolled to a smooth stop, needing to fix your belt, resting against the wall.

and rafe, with zero shame, kept his eyes lingering. the lights above flashed in time with the tempo, the world flickering between dark and neon as you approached, your gaze never leaving his. and as you drew closer, you slowed just enough to close the distance; a spark that could light something dangerous if either one was brave enough.

you came to another stop, one skate rolling slowly as your body leaned forward, the curve of your lips pulling into a knowing smile. “we’re not havin’ this conversation again. it’s not happenin’, can’t ..” he pressed in carefully .. you shook your head, teasingly, backpedaling. rafe’s tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, nodding, his heart fluttering, “okay. alright-“ you chuckled at his defeat, holding for good steadiness.

rafe repositioned a bit; unfolding his forearms, his big hands now grasped the stone around your hands, not yet letting his skin touch yours. not even a graze. “you look good ..” and you were already over it. the small-talk. the reunion catch-up. the pretending.

“i kno’,” you answered with a controlled smile, now holding your hips, distancing yourself — rafe tried not to frown, of course. he straightened up even more, saying, “i’ve been texting .. calling ..” you didn’t care to answer him anymore. you couldn’t do it anymore. what you and rafe had .. was strictly behind closed doors. after hours. one on one.

it started out like one of those things you didn’t think would manifest — just a flicker of heat in a summer of madness. it didn’t make sense, not really. rafe, with his reckless energy and that cocky, smug look always on his face, and you, with your defiant, jumpy spirit that seemed to constantly burn just beneath the surface. the kind of girl who made him feel both alive and insecure, and maybe that was why he was drawn to you from the start.

it was supposed to be just about the rush — the kind of stupid thing you do when you’re young, when you want to feel something real even if you don’t admit it to yourself .. just for a little while. and it was easy .. slipping into each other’s orbit without hesitation — secret moments in quiet places, whispers exchanged in the shadows, those stolen touches that meant more than either were willing to admit. the chemistry was undeniable, the tension between palpable, and before either knew it, you were wrapped up in something that wasn’t quite love, but it wasn’t exactly casual either.

rafe had thought it would stay that way. after all, he had a reputation to uphold, and you weren’t the type to settle down. at least, that’s what he told himself — what he had to tell himself so he could keep his cool.

but somewhere along the line, things shifted. rafe’s feelings, once so easily buried underneath layers of arrogance and pride, began to claw their way to the top. he wanted more — he wanted to see you when the lights weren’t dim, when you weren’t just throwing yourself at him like it was all one big, thrilling game.

he started to catch himself thinking about you when he was supposed to be focused on other things — like work, or his family, or anything but you. his hands would itch to have you, his chest would tighten with the need to see your face, to hear your laugh. those tiny, fleeting moments of vulnerability you let slip through your cool exterior had him hooked. and before he could control it, he realized that he wanted more than just another summer fling.

the problem was, he hadn’t been prepared for the way you pulled back — the more he tried to get close, the more he realized it was a game. you weren’t scared of him, or his reputation, but afraid of the mess that came with being close to him.

there was no fight, no confrontation — just an invisible barrier he couldn’t cross, no matter how many times he tried. you couldn’t be caught. not in something real. not with him. not on this island. not in this lifetime.

the disconnect wasn’t just physical — there was something in your eyes that he couldn’t ignore, something that told him: you were protecting yourself from him, from whatever it was that he was beginning to feel.

“.. i don’t really understand-like-we didn’t end on bad terms? y’know?” a half-shrug. and then a scratch to the back of his head, glancing elsewhere; thinking hard about this next statement. “i jus’, i just don’t-“ apologizing in advance for what he was about to say. “-we were cool, right? like, before the sex, before the extra fuck-shit?”

your face scrunched at that: cool? no. it was never cool. it was totally, undoubtedly unhinged.

“.. why won’t you call .. or text me back?” spilled into the beginning instrumental of void, the neighbourhood. the venue, once buzzing with life, felt distant and somewhat empty. the sound of laughter and movement had gradually eased, matching the flow of void. it was like .. being in a short indie film, almost, the way everyone just .. slipped into formation. dark, eerie, and super emotional.

the pretty lights slowed, shifting between two; deep blue and fiery orange, casting a surreal glow over everything. the colors danced across your dark skin, highlighting the soft curves of your cheekbones, the smooth column of your neck, the sharp glint of your jewelry. a silver and gold name-plate chain rested just above your collarbone, catching the light every time you inhaled and exhaled — a flicker of beauty against the cool blue washing over.

his gaze traced the swirling paint on your skin, mesmerized, like he’d never really looked at you before. but he had. over and over again. and every time, it hit him differently. every time, he felt hot.

the deep blue light softened your features, making you seem almost untouchable, unreal, like something he wasn’t supposed to have in any lifetime. and then the orange would spill in, bringing you back to life, making you shimmer, setting you apart from everything else in the venue. like fire and ice, flickering in tandem, unable to settle, unable to stay still. just like you.

you shifted your weight, your bracelets sliding against each other with a quiet chime, your fingers now pressed to the rink wall. rafe followed the movement, the way the lights kissed your skin — how he should have, how he’s been dying to — the way the shadows curled, as if the whole place was bending to your existence. cinematic material. blue and orange against black skin. unmatchable.

he wasn’t sure if he was breathing.

the way your lips folded together like you were swallowing words you wouldn’t say .. the way your shoulders sank, as if you were preparing for something. “were we .. ever really friends? i mean-“ you scoffed, dropping your chin. “-it was like .. weird. as fuck. shit wasn’t normal, it was confusin’.” brown eyes up: “you looked at me like i was disgustin’.”

“fuck no-“

“uh, yes, rafe-the fuck? yes. we stand on opposite sides of life .. in every aspect. ‘nd, well .. when we started our thing, it was fun. fun, risky, different-whatever.” there was no official label. there was no official title, but you both knew not to entertain anyone else. he for sure couldn’t. “.. but then, it ..” you lowered your head again, calculating .. because how would you say: ‘you were getting too clingy, so i had to push you away. you were getting reckless; touching and trying to kiss in public spaces. acting like a boyfriend’ without saying that exactly. without coming off too harsh, too evil.

guys that looked like rafe never went for girls that looked like you. not usually. sure, times were different, but still, there were people all over kildare that saw things through one foggy lens: white and black. good and bad. kooks and pogues. kooks advanced with the kooks. pogues advanced with the pogues. you were afraid: you saw how shit hit the fan with john b and sarah .. and they’re caucasian. you and rafe teetered that tightrope with the clandestine sessions — but he wanted to spring off and dive into what was today’s current society.

divided and picky.

it took you a moment to raise your head — rafe was gone. you glanced over both shoulders, confused and wary .. how long had he been gone? but the real question, how long have you been talking to yourself? you looked around for him. it didn’t take long though, rafe towered and shadowed over everyone who was near; he was pushing past a couple of kooks standing around the rental counter, ignoring the few sideways glares tossed his way.

rafe grabbed himself skates, dropping onto a bench without hesitation — now you’re nervous — his fingers worked fast, yanking the laces tight, looping them over and over. he wasn’t thinking about balance, wasn’t thinking about how he wasn’t good at this. he was only thinking about getting out there .. with you; fingers tugging the belt hoops of your jean shorts, palms glued to your hips as you skate and grind against his front.

your expression didn’t change much — still wary, still guarded — and he could feel it .. how you were unsure if you should stay or speed off.

up on eight wheels, rafe stomped onward, heading toward the stone opening. you didn’t want this much attention. didn’t want people looking at you. and he didn’t care.

now .. the rink glittered with multiple shades of pink, green, and baby blue — bed peace, jhené aiko and childish gambino. the playful atmosphere was back and so beautiful. jhené’s voice matched the calm, light spin of the disco ball .. you weren’t sure how it happened, why you gave him the green light — but one second, you were gliding alone, the next, he was there. behind you.

rafe’s hands, hot and burning, snaked around your waist, fingertips digging in just enough to let you know he was really there — solid, unrelenting, unwilling to let you pull away this time. his latch wasn’t forceful, but it wasn’t tentative either. it was certain.

his chest pushed against your back as you rode, his body heat bleeding through the thin barrier of fabric between. with his arms around you, he didn’t need to be great at skating. rafe let you lead and tug him along, let you set the pace, his hold adjusting with every gentle, fluid motion.

afro, stretched and full, rested just below his chin .. you smelled of sweetness. home and comfort and safety. and maybe coconut and almond. rafe squeezed your middle, biceps bulging, delicately burying his chin deeper into your hair, truly enjoying the scent of you. you heard the soft hums of relaxation and content from rafe .. the same huffs that you once woke up to — his pinkie brushed the belt of your shorts like he wanted to memorize this feeling.

like he wanted to stay right here.

#nali’s ᡣ𐭩 #black reader #black writers #black women #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x black reader #summertime magic

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girlmostlikely · 8 months ago

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A black bean crunchwrap supreme, large nacho fry, black bean and cheese soft taco, a side of guacamole, extra fire sauce packets, a few breakfast salsa packets, and a large Baja blast zero.

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rottenpumpkin13 · 11 months ago

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Don't yuck AGSZC's yum

Genesis: Banora White apples in everything. In his stir-fry. Slices of it in his soup. Banora White soup. Banora White with rice. Banora White juice mixed in his pasta sauce. Banora White on his pizza. And Genesis is the type to put ketchup on pizza.

Sephiroth: Maple syrup and pasta. Leave him alone.

Cloud: Pickles dipped in warm milk with honey.

Sephiroth: Milk-cooked pasta with chocolate sauce. Please leave him alone.

Zack: A peanut butter- cheese-bacon-nacho chips-ham-chicken-yogurt-beef-spam-pickle-banana-and jam sandwich. Downed with an energy drink.

Sephiroth: Macaroni and cheese with jam mixed into it. Leave him alone.

Angeal: Whatever leftovers are in his fridge thrown into a giant pot because he'd rather die than let food go to waste. His favorite combinations are those that have rice, then he can use the argument that it's "just fried rice" when he has nachos, a cut up slice of pizza, shrimp and two kinds of pasta in the pot.

Sephiroth: Lasagna but one layer is cake because he needs to feel alive. Leave him alone.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife

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scrivenger-grimgar · 10 months ago

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Oh.

finally watched the new dungeon meshi episode and i crave fluffy pancakes

#oh no #oh nacho…#oh this really is a carbonated milk post #rule of thumb always butter every cooking surface. pancakes 🧈 stir fry 🧈 stew 🧈 curry 🧈 soup 🧈#A L W A Y S #Iam so sorry for your pancakes dear let me find the mug cookie recipe for you

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everybody-loves-to-eat · 2 years ago

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#food #oreos #cookies and cream #dessert #loaded milkshake

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karizard-ao3 · 1 year ago

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Eren and Mikasa in the kiss cam?

Hello, anon! Thank you for your patience! I wanted to write a drabble for this and it took me some time to decide on the scenario. Without further ado, I present...

Eren and Mikasa in the Kiss Cam

“So what’s going on between you and that hottie sitting next to you?” Hitch asked as she came out of the stall and joined Mikasa at the sink to wash her hands. She’d gotten free hockey tickets at work, so that’s what they were doing for girl’s night this week.

Mikasa blushed. “He just shared his nachos with me and we talked a little bit,” she said. “He bought me a beer.”

“Oh?” said Hitch, waggling her eyebrows.

Mikasa’s blush deepened. “He is pretty cute, isn’t he?”

“I’ll say!” said Hitch.

“I kind of want to give him my number,” said Mikasa, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t know! I’m too shy!”

“Do it!” said Hitch. “You should make a move. Kiss him.”

Mikasa gasped. She was the color of a ripe cherry now. “What if he isn’t into me, though? What if he’s just being nice?”

Hitch scoffed. “There is no way he’s just being nice when he’s checking you out every two seconds. I’ve been keeping my eye on you both. He wants it.”

Mikasa squeaked and shook her head. “I don’t know if I can make the first move.”

Hitch rolled her eyes, shaking the excess water off her hands and grabbing a paper towel. “You need to grow a pair, Mikasa. What’s your seat number?”

Mikasa pulled her ticket stub out of her pocket and showed her.

“Okay, I’ll meet you back there. I have to go do something first,” said Hitch.

“What are you going to do?” Mikasa asked.

“Just stuff!” Hitch said, sounding annoyed as she pushed open the bathroom door. “I’ll meet you back at the seats.”

“Okay…” said Mikasa, following her out into the hallway, then parting ways to head back toward their section alone.

“Where’s Hitch?” Sasha whispered when Mikasa sidled her way past her towards her seat.

“She wouldn’t tell me,” said Mikasa.

“Probably getting up to something evil,” said Annie, popping a french fry in her mouth.

“I’m going to text her and ask her to bring me a slice of pizza,” said Sasha, getting out her phone.

“You just ate two hot dogs and a custard,” said Annie.

“I’m still hungry,” said Sasha.

Mikasa chuckled at them and continued past them to her seat, right between the absent Hitch and the brown-haired, green-eyed stranger who had introduced himself as Eren.

“Hey, you’re back,” he grinned, twisting towards her as she sat down.

“Did I miss anything good?” she asked, returning his grin with a shy smile.

“There was almost a fight,” said Eren, leaning on the armrest dividing their chairs. “But only almost. So, no. You didn’t miss out on anything… unless you missed me?”

Mikasa’s face, which had just finally gone back to its normal color, turned pink again. Her mind raced for a flirty response. What would Hitch say in her shoes? Ah! “I was counting down the seconds until we could be together again, Eren,” she teased.

Now it was his turn to blush. “Uh… Cool,” he said, with a breathless laugh. “I was… uh… I’m glad you’re back, too.”

The guy with the buzzcut who was sitting next to him elbowed him in the arm. “Smooth,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Eren glared at him. “Fuck off, Connie!”

Connie rolled his eyes again and returned his attention to the game.

Eren turned back to Mikasa. “Um, so… Uh…” He tapped on his knees. “After the game, um…”

“Yes?” said Mikasa, biting her lip.

Eren stared at her for a moment, taking a series of progressively deeper breaths before he finally said, “The crowds can be pretty bad, so be careful on your way out to the parking lot.”

Mikasa’s shoulders slumped. “Okay,” she said.

Eren gritted his teeth, glancing at Connie, who was snickering under his breath. He scowled and slouched back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I mean, I’ll walk you out,” he said to Mikasa. “Make sure no one bumps into you.”

She brightened. “Okay,” she said.

“So… just stay close to me,” he said, straightening up a little bit. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Okay,” said Mikasa, scoring a conversational hat trick. “Thank you.”

Eren chanced a glance at her. “It’s my pleasure,” he said, swallowing hard. “And then, maybe, if you want…”

“Oh my god, it’s a kiss cam!” Sasha squealed.

“Huh?” said Eren, his head swinging towards the jumbotron. Mikasa turned, too.

The screen was now framed in pink, with a heart cutout revealing the camera’s view. An older couple gave each other a peck on the lips and waved at everyone before the image cut to another couple, who laughed and shook their heads, making X’ing motions with their hands. When the camera didn’t pan away, the woman kissed her fingertips and patted it onto the man’s temple. The image cut to a little boy and his mom. He shouted, pointing up at himself with delight, then turned and hugged his mom, who squeezed him tight and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Mikasa giggled. “Oh my gosh, can you imagine being put on the spot like… Oh…” she trailed off, her stomach lurching. That was her face on the screen now. And, framed inside the heart with her, Eren. He was frozen beside her, his hands gripping his armrests. When she saw him unfreeze and turn to her on the screen, she turned to him in real life.

“Uh…” he said with an awkward laugh. “So… If you’re cool with it…” He turned his face and tapped on his cheek.

Mikasa glanced back up at the screen, biting her lip, then looked back at Eren. You need to grow a pair, Hitch’s disembodied voice commanded. Mikasa sucked in a breath as she took Eren’s chin and turned his face back towards hers. She tapped her lips. “If you’re cool with it…” she started to say, but his mouth was already on hers, his hand slipping around the back of her head and tangling in her hair. She grabbed his shoulders, kissing him back amid a stadium full of whoops and catcalls. They parted to take a breath, then dove back in.

“Uh, you can stop now. The kiss cam is over,” said Annie. “It’s been over for a while.”

“You horny freaks,” said Sasha, as Mikasa and Eren separated, panting and disoriented.

Mikasa smoothed out her hair, glancing around, shame-faced. “Sorry,” she said, but everyone was watching the game again. She bit her lip and looked at Eren. He was staring at her, starry-eyed.

“We usually go get food after the game if you want to come,” he said. “But, like, we can ditch everyone else and just go by ourselves.” He blushed. “If you want.”

“I do,” said Mikasa, as Hitch finally returned to her seat.

“Cool!” said Eren, grinning from ear-to-ear, then turning to his friends. “Hey, I’m going to go hang out with Mikasa after the game so you can all go fuck yourselves and eat without me.”

Hitch leaned towards Mikasa. “What’s that?” she said. “You made out with a guy in front of everyone and now you’re going on a date with him? Hmmm… It’s lucky you ended up on that kiss cam, I guess, or you never would have made a move.” She smirked.

Mikasa’s eyes widened. “Hitch!” she hissed.

“What?” Hitch asked, tossing her hair.

Mikasa studied her for a moment. “Nothing,” she said, turning back to the game and Eren. She was right.

The end.

#ask me things #my asks #answered asks #eren jaeger #eremika #mikasa ackerman #drabble #kiss cam #kiss #fluff #hitch dreyse

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briarpatch-kids · 4 months ago

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I created a monster by getting my roommate the nacho fry pass from taco bell as a surprise. Every day now he's like "nacho fry time!" and I have to put in an order for him. It's like Miss Mouse and her demanding her twice daily churu for 2+ hours before it's time.

#im not mad its just funny #dude love his nacho fries

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 11 months ago

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The Gym Membership - Part 36 (Crosshair)

Summary: Layla spends time with the girls; while the guys continue their axe throwing.

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

It took me a little long to edit this part, simply because I got caught up watching a movie. LOL. I know shameful.

Anyhew, enjoy.

Love oo

Warnings: Liquor, intoxication (please enjoy responsibly and do not drink and handle weaponry of any kind. These are fictional characters, if they hurt someone, I can just backspace. There's no backspace in real life), axe throwing discussions, drinking, innuendo, discussions of objectifying male bodies (the girls discussing their husbands/boyfriends), discussions of feelings, feelings of guilt. I think that's it, if I miss any warnings, please let me know.

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Rob spun the axe in his hand, before throwing it at the target. This was his and Crosshair’s tenth match; and right now the score was 9:1, mainly because Crosshair felt the guy should’ve at least won one.

With each loss, Rob was getting more and more agitated while Crosshair kept taunting him, it was childish. Honestly, I was shocked to see these two acting like a couple of children. After a while, I walked over to the girls who were sitting at one of the tables drinking beer, eating some fries and nachos.

I sat beside Mel, popping in one of the fries from the table. I ordered a drink from the waitress, as I glanced around the table, enjoying the fact that everyone here was here for only one reason, to celebrate Avery’s accomplishments.

“Having fun Layla?” Mel asked as she took a sip of some proper beer, now that she was no longer breastfeeding Violet and Iris was comfortable enough to be with a babysitter that wasn’t family, not to mention it’d been a while since she and Wrecker had a night out. She was trying her best not to get too drunk, but watching Wrecker’s muscles flex, as he tossed the axe against the target, was making it very difficult not to just let her inhibitions go completely reckless.

“I was until those two started acting like fools.” I motioned over my shoulder, to the two just in their own world. “Regardless, I’m glad everyone’s here for Avery.”

Mel reached over and rubbed Layla’s back, stroking her hair, “Of course, sweetie. We’ll always turn up for you and for Avery.”

“You know …” Zai motioned her hand, swaying it a little, she was a tiny bit tipsy. “When you get two men interested in the same woman, you’re going to have childish rivalry” she smirked as she popped a fry into her mouth, followed by another shot of tequila. “Am I wrong, ladies?” She directed the question to Mel, Sofie, and Layla; the three simply nodded as they each took a sip of their beer.

“I’m sure you’re wrong. Crosshair has disliked me for a long time, and I’ve certainly given him enough reasons to hate me. I mean we are just now on speaking terms, and … okay, yes things have gotten better. We are talking and texting more, but … that doesn’t necessarily mean … you know … I mean he was married to my sister. You’re way off base.” I clarified, waving my hand aside as I drank down my whiskey in one gulp, too nervous and too mortified my feelings may have seeped through. I motioned to the waitress ordering a refill, I needed another one to calm down my racing heart, the last thing I needed was for them to misunderstand our relationship. Plus, she was clearly drunk, and not thinking clearly.

“Hmmm. Well, if you’re so sure, then can you explain why he keeps glancing over here to see if you’re paying attention?” Sofie teased as she took a sip of her drink.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Crosshair’s eyes focused on his target, even from where I sat, I could tell they were penetrating and fully engrossed in his task. His muscles flexed under his shirt as he moved his arms, his biceps bulging from the slight movement. His jaw shifting ever so slightly as he chewed his toothpick, swishing it from one side to the other as he grinned a self-satisfying smirk at Rob. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pull my eyes away, as I took note of how his long fingers gripped the handle of the axe, how his forefinger and middle finger straightened completely as he released the axe from his hand, and slowly curled into his palm.

“Seems like something caught your eye, or maybe someone?” Mel chuckled, wiggling her eyebrows, her lips pulling into the warmest and most comforting smile I’d seen in a long time. I don’t know how to explain it, but she felt like family to me already. “Hey, I don’t blame you, Crosshair is a very attractive man, with a heart of gold. However, not that I’m disparaging against Cross, but have you seen my man, Wrecker’s arms?” She turned and was not ashamed to be ogling her husband, as she pointed out her favourite parts, “I mean look at how my man’s arms ripple with every movement. Look at that back, ”

“Easy Mel, don’t want to see you drool.”

“Shut up, Zai. Like you’re not watching Hunter with eagle eyes, and admiring his own form.” Mel laughed as she glanced over to Zai, her cheeks and ears turning a deep pink, while Zai’s smiling pout and blush adorned her own features.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t. Just saying no one needs to see you drool. Plus,” Zai turned her head to admire her own man, “look how his hair falls perfectly every time he shifts, the way his stance brings out his thick thighs, and his tapered waist …” She couldn’t help chewing her thumbnail as she eyed Hunter up and down.

“I think Mel’s not the only one who needs a napkin” Sofie giggled as she handed a napkin to each of the girls.

“Well, I’m sure you’re keeping your eye on Echo too, right?” I teased, enjoying how friendly they were amongst themselves. It was enjoyable to find women that didn’t judge me, didn’t make me feel less than I should’ve simply because I was pretty, or because I wasn’t like other women who enjoyed gossiping or trying to meddle.

“Of course, look at the way he moves …” Sofie’s eyes focused fully on Echo, as they shone with pure joy, “He moves with purpose, elegance, and determination; and not just when he’s standing there throwing an axe; when he’s dancing he’s the most graceful dancer I’ve ever seen.”

“Are we talking vertical or horizontal dancing?” Zai teased, laughing as she took another swig of her beer.

Sofie hid her face behind her glass, laughing, as Mel and Zai continued to tease her nonstop about Echo, as my eyes fell back over to Crosshair, watching as he and Rob had fallen into some sort of heated debate.

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