#and hands me a plate with pizza before sneaking back out

[ratcandy]

also i told one of the nurses i was hungry since i hadn't eaten this morning and she snuck me a slice of pizza from their break room. so really what i'm saying is peace and love on planet earth

[kitkat13001]

₊˚⊹♡⭒˚.⋆ 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚠 ?

i try to be the chill girl but honestly i’m not knee deep in the passenger seat (and you’re eating me out) two weeks and your mom invites me (to her long beach house) is it casual now?

⤷ katsuki bakugou x reader

⤷ fem-leaning reader (“girl” used twice, no other pronouns), friends w benefits-ish to lovers, reader is bad at feelings, brief mention (1) of underage drinking, heavily implied reader and bakugou are sleeping together but nothing explicit, lyrics and title from chappell roan’s “casual,” this is long (~2k words)

for three months it’s been like this. three months of sneaking around and shared glances and private smiles and near-silent laughter at one in the morning. 

it started one night towards the end of winter, just before the beginnings of spring. 

you had just finished up a big practical exam and the class had come in first. you’d worked your asses off and it had been totally worth it. everyone felt like they were walking on air that night, and you’d all decided to get together for a late dinner in the dorms to celebrate. 

you remember it clearly. the valentines decorations were still up in the lounge. you’d ordered pizza to supplement sato’s delicious noodle arrangement and bakugou’s yakitori, and stayed up well past curfew talking and eating and laughing. it was one of the best nights of your life. 

you’d gone to the bathroom, but when you came back to the lounge everyone had already gone up to bed. 

“guess the party’s over,” you’d mumbled to yourself with a little laugh of disbelief. 

“oi!” had come a voice from the kitchen. “who’s out there?!”

“guess,” you’d called out teasingly, leaning against the doorframe. 

bakugou wore his trademark scowl, same as ever. he was standing over the sink, hands covered in suds amidst a pile of dishes. 

“hmph. the hell you doing up, dumbass? figured you’d gone to bed after you disappeared on us.”

“hm. three years and you think you’d come up with a better nickname,” you laughed. “i told denki i was going to the bathroom. something in those noodles did a number on me.”

he had scoffed, seemingly irritated by your overshare. you didn’t care. you were never one to withhold anything and he knew that. 

“whatever. everyone’s asleep already anyway.”

“what are you doing up, kacchan?”

he’d scowled at that, but said nothing. he had long since given up trying to dissuade you from using the nickname. he nodded to the pile of dishes in the sink before him. 

“damn extras left a mess. said we’d pick up in the morning but i can’t sleep with this fuckin’ mess.”

you had laughed at that. he fixed you with a withering glare. 

“what’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“what a mouth,” you snickered. “you never change, do you, kacchan?”

he’d scoffed, scrubbing agitatedly at a plate. “i change plenty.”

you just laughed again. you guessed he was right, because three years ago he never would’ve been caught dead up this late. 

“you gonna help me with this or what?” he demanded, gesturing to the mess of the kitchen. 

you’d shrugged, figuring it would’ve been cruel to leave him to face this alone. 

“i guess so. you wash, i dry?”

he replied with a soft grunt of affirmation. 

it was peaceful that night, standing shoulder to shoulder with bakugou as he handed off soaked dishes for you to wipe down. you took comfort in the warm brush of his hands against yours. 

and the fateful moment that led to all of this?

he’d fumbled a dish, the mug slipping from his soap-slicked grip. you had gone to catch it, reaching over at the exact same time he did. 

you remember the brief pain of your heads colliding and bakugou’s proceeding shout. 

you had grabbed his shoulders for support, and you remember being surprised by how warm he was. it’s not like you’d never touched him before, but the number of times you’d ever been this close to him was minuscule. 

he might’ve been mad, probably about to open his mouth to berate you about how he’d “had it!” and that you “should’ve left it” or something. but he stopped cold, eyes wide at just how close you were. barely an inch between your noses. you could smell the spices on him from when he’d been cooking earlier. 

you don’t know what led you to say it. maybe it was the late hour or the obscene amount of food you’d eaten or the wine cooler you’d allowed yourself to drink after mina had brought them out. 

“can i kiss you?”

you think bakugou might’ve been more surprised by that than if you’d socked him in the face. 

you don’t know why he did, but he had nodded. he thought about it for a second—just one, not too long—and then given the slightest incline of his head. and you did it. 

you kissed him. 

it wasn’t your first kiss. if it was his, you couldn’t tell. he was soft, responsive to your movements but still sure of himself when he kissed you back. 

he tasted vaguely of spices. 

you don’t know how long you stayed like that. you don’t know at what point his hands moved from the sink to your cheeks or when he’d backed you against the counter. 

you just know that when he’d asked if you wanted to go up to his room, you nodded with flushed cheeks and a breathless smile. 

and that’s how it’s been for three months. you’d never addressed it, never put a name to what you had. you’d never questioned it or taken it for granted. bakugou is the kind of person you can follow blindly into any situation and know you’re going to come out okay. and you’ve never been someone who needed a reason to be around people you like. 

tonight’s not much different. it’s quiet, a cool breeze in the air from the open window. the nights are getting warmer as spring sets in, so the breeze feels good on your skin. 

you lay back on bakugou’s bed, breathing in the smell of his ocean breeze laundry detergent and the faint scent of the almost-blooming cherry blossoms just outside.

he didn’t used to let you stay over. he’d walk you back to your dorm once everyone was asleep, grumble a goodnight and disappear back down the hall. but after a while, he stopped mentioning how late it was getting. he’d just toss over and fall asleep, his arm still resting across your body next to him. 

“what’re ya sighing for?” bakugou huffs, reaching over you to plug his phone into the charging outlet. 

“i’m not sighing,” you reply, frowning up at the ceiling. 

“and now you’re pouting.”

you huff back at him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “i am not pouting. i’m eighteen years old, i don’t pout.”

katsuki raises his eyebrows in challenge. “you want me to get you a mirror?”

you roll your eyes and toss a pillow at him. he catches it just the way you expect him to, right in front of his face. you strike quicker than he can move it, smacking the front with a palm. you laugh at his startled growl, falling back on the bed as he throws the pillow back your way. 

you smile innocently up at him, clutching the pillow to your chest and relish in the scowl he casts at you and the way his hair is tousled from the scuffle. 

“brat,” he scoffs, knocking his leg against yours. “c’mon, it’s late. i wanna sleep.”

he waits until you’ve crawled in beside him to turn out the lights. 

you stare out into the dark for a while, but sleep doesn’t come. 

“katsuki?” 

his responding groan in muffled into the pillow. you prop yourself up to turn and look at him. 

“can i ask you something?” 

you see his scarlet eyes open in the dark and glance up at you with a furrowed brow. 

he huffs as he rolls over to face you. “i guess.”

now you’re nervous. god, why did you have to bring it up?

“i don’t want to sound stupid or anything, but i…” you pause, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “what are we? i mean, like…to each other?”

it’s both a relief and an immense amount of anxiety finally getting the words out. “it’s been eating at me for a while now—and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—but i figured i’d die if i didn’t at least ask.”

katsuki’s looking right at you, but for once you can’t read his eyes or expression. the silence is stretching and your stomach turns with unease. you keep talking, and even though you know you’re rambling, your mouth is like a runaway train. 

“i mean, to my knowledge at least, you don’t sleep around, right? we don’t see other people. and you’re not…you’re not completely detached when we’re together—at least i hope you aren’t. you don’t act like it anyways. so it seems like it’s more than a physical thing?”

god, why can’t you stop talking? it’s more to yourself than katsuki at this point anyway. 

“and we’re friends. we’ve been friends for such a long time now. it’s not like i’m some random girl you picked up off the street.”

he scoffs quietly and you glance over at him. his expression is pinched, but otherwise unreadable. “tch. i wouldn’t do that.”

“exactly,” you agree, trying to keep your voice even as you fidget with your hands. your voice is quiet and you hang your head a little, unable to face his deep eyes. “i…know you care about me. so i guess that’s why i’m asking what this is to you.” you start rambling again before the silence gets too long. “are we just friends who mess around sometimes? is it that you’re not ready for a relationship…or maybe you do want a relationship but just not with me?”

“do you want a relationship?” he asks. 

“i…i don’t know. maybe, if that’s what you wanted.”

“what do you want?”

“i mean, we don’t have to put a label on anything if you don’t want to. unless you do want to, then i guess we could do that too.” the options are flooding your brain, mouth going off without filter. 

“what do you want?” katsuki asks again, red eyes boring into yours in the dark. 

you shrink back, feeling small under his unwavering gaze. “i…i don’t know.”

he scoffs. “liar.”

your heart sinks a little. 

“what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean,” he replies, and you can hear the frustration in his voice. “you’re not the ‘whatever you want’ girl. you never have been.”

you know he’s right, but that doesn’t make it less painful to hear. normally that kind of tenacity is what people strive for, what people admire. but the way katsuki says it…he makes it sound like a bad thing. like you’re selfish. 

“so tell me,” he insists, face mere inches from yours. “why don’t you care what we are?”

“because i care about you,” you whisper, almost against your will. “and i want you to be happy, so i’ll take you in whatever capacity i can get you.”

he looks almost surprised at that, then slightly exasperated like you’ve missed his entire point. he exhales sharply, sitting back against the headboard. 

“before i answer you, lemme ask you something myself first.”

“okay,” you breathe. 

“why the sudden need to know?”

“huh?”

“you said this shit’s been eating at you for a while now. how come? what’s got you feeling all contemplative all of a sudden?”

it takes a minute to gather your thoughts, much less the courage to speak. you hadn’t been expecting him to turn this on you. 

“well…we’re graduating in a few weeks, and i guess i just…i don’t want to never see you again. i don’t want this to end. and i…” you pause, taking a shaky breath, then shrug. “i don’t want to lose you, kacchan.”

he’s staring now in what you can only describe as disbelief. your stomach stirs uneasily as you sit in silence for a moment. 

“you don’t want to lose me,” he repeats, like its the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “that’s it?”

“yes, that’s it,” you reply, suddenly defensive. you cross your arms, feeling incredibly self-conscious now. 

“and you think i’m what, just gonna up and leave you? don’t you give a fuck about us?” he demands. 

“i didn’t know there was an ‘us’!” you cry. “i didn’t know it meant anything to you.”

“of course it fuckin’ meant something!” katsuki shoots back, on the verge of a shout. 

“i stayed with you the entire time you had the flu in second year. i let you come with me to the gym. we did our work studies together. i make you food when you’re stupid and don’t eat, i let you come in my room whenever you want and sleep in my fuckin’ bed when you have a bad dream.”

you sit there for a moment, absorbing it all. it’s true, all of it. 

“i don’t do that shit for just anyone,” he adds, grumbling. and he’s right. he doesn’t. “so don’t you for one minute think that you don’t mean anything to me. why else would i be spending all this damn time with you?”

“i don’t know,” you hum, crawling over to him. “maybe you did it cause all our other friends were getting together and you felt left out.”

“when have i ever done something just because some other fuckin’ extra did too?”

“never,” you giggle, leaning against him until you’ve fallen into his lap.

“exactly. so what does that tell you?”

“that…you’re very brave and independent?”

he groans loudly, rolling his eyes. “you’re fuckin’ impossible.”

“you love it,” you beam up at him. your stomach flutters with something warmer now as he reaches down and brings you up to meet his lips. it’s a deep kiss, leaving no room for anything but him and you and saying everything that you never said up until now. 

“yeah, so what if i do?” he murmurs when he pulls away, still close enough that his lips brush yours when he speaks. 

“tell me,” you say, smile and voice soft as you push his spiky bangs away from his face. his cheeks are warm under your hands. “tell me for real this time.”

his ruby eyes are deep and sincere when he says it. 

“i love you.”

it’s all you ever needed to hear.

nothing like the pressure of finals to get you locked in on a fic. i’ve been sitting on this for a while and i finally got inspired to finish it. i really enjoyed the reader/bakugou dynamic here. hope you like!

[seeingivy]

standards

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

an: @deusfoundry made a very passionate reblog about method acting sasha and levi. had to serve what I could, I hope you like it!!!

--

I’ll just meet you there, it’ll give me time to think. 

You look across the courtyard and it fills your stomach with an unnecessary amount of dread. 

Eren’s sitting there, Maya lazily strung across his lap while Marco makes an unruly mess of his hair. You note that Eren doesn’t even pay notice to either of them, because he’s too deep in the conversation that he’s having with Jean and Mikasa. 

You note that his hair is getting too long and that it’ll be time to cut it soon, but even that would be awkward. To confront him about it, to have him sit near the sink and cut it for him – that you’d probably inevitably fight after the fact because he would bring it up again, trying so needlessly to figure out why you were so put off by something so stupid. 

“Is there any reason that you and Eren arrived separately?” 

You shake your focus out of the image to find Sasha and Connie sitting at your side, noting the particularly nosy looks on their faces, as you drop your hands to your lap. You’ve made a mess of the floral centerpiece that was at your table, now shredded to a mix of petals and stems. 

You wonder if Connie’s nasal cannula ever gets uncomfortable. If he’s really in pain after the transplant and not telling anyone. 

“Is there any reason that you’re worrying about me at your anniversary party?” you ask. 

“There’s only one thing more riveting than talking to Niccolo at a dinner party. Finding out why our golden couple hasn’t even spared each other one glance tonight.” Sasha jokes, reaching for one of the leftover potato wedges on your plate and securing it between her fingers. 

You roll your eyes. Some golden couple the two of you were. 

“Even your kids didn’t say hi to you when they walked in. That’s major.” Connie responds. 

“They don’t have to say hi to me when they walk in. We live together, Connie.” 

Connie shakes his head, slamming the bottom of his cane against the floor. 

You wonder if he’s making enough progress that’s up to par with how long it’s been since the transplant. Your sneaking suspicion is that he hasn’t and you can’t help but wonder if he’ll give up soon. 

“Maybe other kids. Yours are always split between you and Eren. And Eren always stops to talk to you. Poor guy can’t get enough, which I don’t understand.” Connie adds. 

You elbow Connie in the side, earning you an irritated laugh, before you pinch your eyes, looking back over to where Eren and Jean are now talking in hushed voices – which you’re certain, has to be about you. Granted, you weren’t doing anything too different, but you can’t help but wonder if Eren is as reserved about discussing it as you are with them. 

“If you must know, Eren and I are having a little disagreement.” you respond. 

You note that you can see the two of them grin at each other in your peripheral vision – meaning that almost everyone must have noted at this point that you and Eren were acting strange. 

They were the only ones who were able to muster up the courage to come ask. Granted, the nosy schemers had picked perfectly. It was Sasha’s party and Connie had just gotten out of the impossible. You’d feel bad if you didn’t indulge. 

“How little? Pineapple on pizza? Parking car in the driveway?” Sasha asks. 

You shake your head. 

“Eren wants to get one of those…those genome tests to see what diseases we could be predisposed to.” you respond. 

“Who? Marco and Maya?” Connie asks. 

You shake your head. 

“All of us. Me, him, and the kids. He’s even trying to convince Falco and Gabi to do it. If you talk to him for long enough, he’ll probably talk to you about it too. He just found out about it on the internet and now he feels like he has to know.” you respond. 

“And you’re fighting about it because…?” Sasha asks. 

You feel a weight on the back of your chair, only to look directly up and find Levi staring down at you, a notably irritated look on his face. 

“Are you guys talking about why they showed up separately?” Levi asks. 

“No.” you respond. 

“Yes.” Connie and Sasha respond. 

Levi gives you a snide look before pulling up a chair and listening into the conversation. Connie spares almost no time – and you notice that while he just had open heart surgery a month ago, his energy levels do not reflect that in the slightest. 

It was a good sign. 

“Y/N just said that Eren wants to get one of those genome tests that tell you which diseases that you’re going to be predisposed to. And they’re arguing because Y/N doesn’t want any of them to do it.” Connie states. 

“And you argued so bad that you showed up separately? Over a dumb test?” Levi asks. 

You frown. 

“You don’t have to be so patronizing, Levi.” Sasha scolds. 

“I’m not being patronizing. Surely it can’t be that.” 

Sasha shoots him a menacing glare to which Levi puts his hands up, like he’s surrendering before gesturing for you to respond. 

“Well, that’s not far from it. We did argue so bad that we showed up separately. He said that he would meet me there because it would give him time to think. And well, that just made me even more mad because he…” 

You pause. 

It’s because he left without kissing you goodbye. 

“It’s stupid. The entire thing is stupid and it doesn’t matter.” you respond. 

Sasha gives Connie and Levi a look, before the two of them shoot an equally questioning look back at them. She clears her throat, before shooting you all a polite smile. 

“I think you have to use the bathroom, Levi. You should help him, Connie.” Sasha states. 

Levi glares at her. “And why would I need his help?”

Sasha reaches forward and pinches his arm. 

“Because you’re pushing fifty, grandpa. Get a move on.” Sasha responds. 

Levi and Connie begrudgingly oblige and you can tell from the look on their face that they’re expecting a full report back when Sasha wrangles the truth out of you. But you know her better and from the look on her face, you can tell there’s no intention to share without your permission anyways. 

Sasha scoots her chair closer to yours, looping her arm in through yours and resting her cheek on your shoulder. 

“You know me and Niccolo fight too, you know?” she murmurs. 

“About what type of pasta he’s making for dinner?” you ask. 

“Mostly. But other stuff too. We’re trying to decide how many kids to have…if we should have any.” Sasha murmurs. 

You widen your eyes. 

“You’re thinking about not having any?” 

Sasha shrugs. 

“I don’t know. I don’t feel particularly strong about it right now. Maybe I’ll change my mind later but…I feel like we already have a hundred kids around. That kind of fulfills the need for me.” Sasha adds. 

You shrug. 

“You don’t have to have them. I mean, we probably all don’t help since we all have them, but…but Levi didn’t have any either and he’s just fine.” you respond. 

“I guess.” Sasha responds. 

You pause. 

“You don’t sound very convinced.” 

“Levi couldn’t have them and he really wanted to. I don’t want to deprive Niccolo when we are lucky enough to have them if we wanted, but I just don’t…want them. That might make me sound like a bad person but I just don’t. I like our life how it is and it’s enough for me. I don't want to deprive some kid of love if that’s not what I’m ready for right now.” 

You interlock your fingers with hers. 

“That definitely does not make you a bad person. I’d argue it makes you a great one. What does Niccolo say?” 

Sasha sighs. 

“He’s so understanding. I know he wants them badly but he knows that it’s my choice since I’m the one who has to carry the baby and I’d probably have to be the one to take off work with Niccolo’s schedule. But that almost makes me feel worse, like…like because he’s so understanding I should just give in and do it, you know?”

You hum in response. 

“I know but also I don’t. It’s a basic thing for him to agree with whatever you decide when you’re the one going to be doing it. You also don’t have to reciprocate a nice act just because he did one for you first.” you respond. 

Sasha laughs. 

“You sound like Levi.” Sasha responds. 

“He has his moments.” 

Sasha pushes off your shoulder, cheeks lightly dusted pink as she hikes her legs to her chest and pulling the fabric around her ankles. 

“Your turn.” 

You sigh. 

“You know, you really don’t have to reciprocate a nice action with another one. I can just hear you talk about you and Niccolo and not have to talk about me and Eren.” you joke. 

Sasha reaches forward and pinches your cheek. 

“But you should. Come on.” Sasha responds. 

You mimic her motions, resting your cheek against her shoulder and breathing in the scent of her minty perfume. 

“I really don’t want to do this test.” you respond. 

“I mean. I gathered that much.” Sasha responds, sarcastically. 

You elbow her in the side, earning you a laugh from her, before looking back over at Eren, now braiding the ends of Maya’s hair with Connie at his side. 

“Eren wants to take the test because he thinks it’s interesting. He’s wondering if the Alzheimer’s from his grandfather's side can be seen in his genes or tendencies for liver disease and what not. He…he’s more intrigued by the science of it all. What country and regions our ancestors are from.” 

“And you…

“And it scares me. What if Eren does have Alzheimer’s from his grandfather's side? I’m going to start obsessively Googling how I can make him keep his mind sharp. I’m going to control Marco and Maya’s diets because I’m scared they’ll get heart failure or kidney stones or…or anything.” 

You pause. 

“I already worry enough that they’re going to die when I leave them alone. If they leave the house and I’m not there. I don’t need to sit there worrying about it every waking moment and this…this is basically putting the thought in my head.” 

Sasha tilts her head to the side. 

“I’m gathering Eren doesn’t know this part.” 

You sink down into the chair. 

“Yeah. Kind of been avoiding telling him” 

“Why?”

You sigh, turning to your side and shuffling your legs onto the seat. You can’t help but lower your voice as you whisper. 

“Because Eren and I are going to have a real fight then.” 

“A real fight?” 

“Because I’ve been avoiding him this entire time and he’ll be upset that I did this over something I should have just told him. Eren told me I had nothing to be scared about and it might be better for me if I just do the test or just tell him what’s bothering me and….and I don’t know what it is but I just can’t.” 

Sasha nods. 

“He thinks I’m making a really big deal about the whole genome test thing because he doesn’t know why. And rightfully so because…because I would be annoyed about this entire thing being blown out of proportion when it’s not that deep but…but it is to me. And it’s not his fault that he doesn’t know but I don’t want to tell him so I just…don’t talk about it.” 

Sasha hums in response. 

“That must be really frustrating for him. Seeing you shut down and trying to figure out why.” 

“I know.” you whisper. 

“It must be frustrating for you to. Wanting to open up but also protect yourself.” Sasha adds. 

You shrug. 

“Why are the kids not talking to you?” Sasha asks. 

“I guess I shut them out too. But I don’t want them to side with me because then Eren will be alone…when I’m already shutting him out to begin with. I know having them be around him all the time, maybe more so than usual is helping.” 

Sasha rolls his eyes. 

“I’m sure it doesn’t. He would hate to see that you’re alone and upset. Especially when you’re so attached to Maya and Marco.” 

You shake your head. 

“I just think he’s at his wits end since it’s so…erratic lately. Unstable. I cried so hard before I came here because he left the house without saying goodbye. I couldn’t even get in the car and drive here before I knew that he made it here safely because I would be so upset if something happened to them.” 

Sasha lifts one of her hands, tangling through the knots at the ends of your hair. 

“You know, there’s a normal amount of worry and a point where it becomes a little too much. You can’t possibly live while being that stressed out all the time.” Sasha murmurs. 

“I know. I’m trying to figure it out.” 

Sasha leans back, giving you a bright smile. 

“And you will.” 

--

At the end of the party, almost everyone was  slumped on Mikasa and Jean’s couches, eyes lidded shut in the cool air of the summer. You note that Marco and Maya are both in Jean’s lap now, Eren and Connie deep in conversation. 

Connie got his drama fix elsewhere. 

“Mind if I sit here?” 

You look up to find Levi at your side, hands braced against the back of the chair. 

“Go ahead, grandpa.” you respond, gesturing towards the open chair. 

“I’m not that much older than you.” Levi responds. 

You smile. 

“I know. I’m just teasing.” 

Levi leans against the chair, his eyes trained in the exact same spot as you. You can tell that he’s waiting for you to bite the bullet, only because you’re positive he wouldn’t have approached you the way he did if he didn’t. 

“How much did Sasha tell you?” you ask. 

Levi shakes his head. 

“Sasha didn’t tell me anything.” 

“And that would mean hell froze over. She can’t keep anything from you. And even if she did have the capabilities of keeping a secret, she’d never keep one from you.” 

Levi smiles. Like he’s touched. 

“I believe she had very sound reasoning to tell me.” Levi responds. 

You snort. 

“And what’s that?” 

“Sasha’s feeling particularly sentimental. Recalling a time when a friend of hers went and told me something that she maybe should have kept to herself, just so I could come help out when it was needed.” 

You tilt your head to the side. 

“What?” 

“Do you really not remember?” Levi asks. 

You shrug. 

“I remember that it was the dead of the night and you knocked on my door. Panting. You were really worked up, but that wasn’t unusual for you. What was unusual was that you were talking about someone else. About how Sasha didn’t think that she was pretty, that you wanted her to know how special she was, and you…” 

“I asked you to take her on a date. Because I couldn’t think of anyone else who could without upsetting someone. I couldn’t have Connie burping on her all night so it wouldn’t be ideal.” you respond. 

Levi smiles. 

“You know that meant a lot to her?” Levi asks. 

“I mean, I guess. I would imagine that it would mean a lot to me if I felt the way she did too.” you murmur. 

Levi shakes her head. 

“When I took Sasha on that date, I kind of took her on three dates in one. I told her that there’s lots of different things that you can do. Took her to an escape room that we just did together, just so we could try something new. She was absolutely horrible at it. At one point, she got so bored of looking for the keys that she just watched me do the entire thing and ate the snacks that she had in her bag.” 

You smile. 

“I asked her what her favorite thing to do is and she said eating, so we made dinner together.” 

“Oh god.” 

“Exactly. She broke my Instant Pot. One of the first things she did when I bought my new house was send me two, just so I could have a backup. As if I’d ever let her into my kitchen again.” 

You snort. 

“You sound like Eren talking about me.” 

“Well, you’re both particularly inept at these type of things.” 

You shoot Levi a glare. 

“And after that we…we talked about all the deep stuff for a lack of a better word. She recounted exactly what you had told me, but in greater detail. About how she was scared that she was going to end up alone. That no one was ever going to love her.” 

You lean back in your chair. And note that Levi almost seems like he’s choking up. 

“I made it a point to Sasha that she should have all three things in whoever she picks in the future. Someone that she could try new things with, just to get out of her comfort zone. Someone that she can communicate with, even if it’s something as simple as who is making what part of the meal. And most importantly, someone she can share her burdens with. No matter how dumb she thinks they are. At the very least, someone who makes her believe like she can and is loved. That at the very least, it’s one of the easiest things to do once you get to know her.” 

You smile. 

“You know she adores you, right?” 

Levi shakes his head. Still too stoic to confront it head first. 

“So you took Sasha to an escape room to tell her that but you’re giving me the Sparknotes?” you groan. 

Levi smiles. 

“I’d imagine that Eren would find it inexplicably strange when I was take his wife on a date.” 

You smile. 

“That’s fair.” 

You shrug. And you’re not sure why, but it makes the tears bubble up in your eyes, until they’re freely bubbling down the side of your face. 

“It’s just dumb. How am I supposed to tell him I’m upset because he left home without kissing me goodbye? That’s ridiculous.” 

It’s right at that moment that you feel it, a waft of the cold air before there’s a pair of lips pressing a kiss to the side of your cheek. You can immediately clock from the musky smell that it’s Eren, as he’s now resting his head on your chin, your cheeks flush together. 

“Exactly like that. You’re supposed to tell me exactly like that, sweetheart.” Eren murmurs. 

You look to your side and glare at Levi. 

“In my defense, I told him to wait.” Levi responds. 

“And I refuse to do that when she starts crying.” Eren responds, shooting him a glare.

Levi takes Eren’s very stern hint, before shooting you a polite smile and pushing out of his chair, where Sasha’s waiting at the end of the table. The two of them give you bright, bright smiles as they link their arms together and walk off towards the other side of the garden. 

Eren takes the empty chair, making it a point to pull it extremely close to yours, as he gestures for you to lean against him. You oblige, taking in his sweet smell once again as he brings his hand up to your hair and rubs circles into the sweet point on your neck. 

He reaches forward, soft fingers wiping away the wetness on your cheek. 

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” Eren asks. 

You shake your head. 

“I mean. Not really.” 

Eren gives you a smile that sends a wave of relief through you. 

“You’re just crying about how much you love Sasha?” 

“Basically. She’s a really good friend, you know?” 

Eren smiles, before pressing another kiss to your hairline. 

“A really good friend. She staged an entire intervention and gave me a lecture.” 

“Really?” 

“Well. She staged the intervention with Levi. And facilitated the lecture Levi gave me. Said it would be scarier if it came from him.”  

“Was it?” 

“Oh, of course.” 

You laugh. 

“It was warranted. Levi doesn’t play about his girls. Granted that you’re both involved, he’s going to feel all types of ways.” 

You smile. You look back towards the end of the garden, at the two of them sitting near the fireplace – at the clear disdain Levi has for the sticky smores that she’s eating. 

“I didn’t know that you asked Levi to take Sasha on a date. Did he do that for you?” Eren asks. 

You shake your head. 

“He just gave me the highlights. But I didn’t really need his wisdom until now, so it makes sense.” 

Eren leans forward. 

“I’d love to hear about this wisdom.” 

“You know. About trying new things with your partner, sharing responsibilities and burdens and all that.” 

Eren grins. 

“Did you hear it?” 

“I mean, obviously. I’m repeating it to you now, aren’t I?” 

Eren shakes his head, before reaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. You lift his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles. 

“I mean, are you ready to put that wisdom to use?” Eren asks.

You shrug. 

“I suppose I have to now.” 

“I mean, you don’t have to. I’m never going to force you to share something with me. But I do want you to know that you can tell me. And I know you always have, which makes me just curious why you’re not keen to do it now.” 

You sigh. 

“It’s nothing about you. It’s about me.” 

“I love to hear about you. Do tell.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“You need a haircut.” 

“You can go home and give me one. But right now, you’re deflecting.” Eren responds. 

“Eren.” 

“I know you’re mad I didn’t kiss you before I left. And I really am sorry about that. I’m not even sure how I forgot.” 

You shake your head. 

“I mean, you were upset with me. I wouldn’t want to kiss someone either if I was annoyed.” 

Eren reaches forward and pinches your cheek. 

“That’s the difference between me and you. I could kiss you all the time.” 

“And yet you don’t.” you joke. 

Eren leans forward, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek. And leans right back, giving you a bright smile as he waits for some indication of approval. You shake your head at him, before reaching for his open hand and lock your fingers with his. 

“I’m working on it.” Eren responds. 

There’s a pair of footsteps behind you, Jean and Mikasa with Marco and Maya in their arms with an almost awkward smile. 

“We hate to interrupt a totally great reconciliation that’s going on.” Jean starts. 

“Then don’t.” you respond. 

Jean glares. 

“Shut up. We’re just giving you your kids back since you pawned them off to us.” 

“Maya spent twenty minutes asking me when your cooties would be gone so she could talk to you again. Nice one, Eren.” Mikasa responds. 

You shoot Eren a confused look, before taking Marco from Jean’s arm, readjusting his sleepy head onto your shoulder and giving him a grateful smile. Mikasa does the same with Eren, the two of them squeezing your shoulder before taking their departure. 

“Cooties, Eren?” 

“I told Marco and Maya you were sick and that they shouldn’t bother you. They asked what you were sick with and I couldn’t say something real so I told them that it was cooties. Safe to say that they were horrified.” 

You frown. “Great. Now they think I’m infected.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s a made up disease. I’m sure you’ll live.” Eren deadpans. 

You reach forward, brushing your hair through the matted mess on Marco’s forehead. Eren rests his cheek against the top of Maya’s head, rubbing soft circles into her back. 

“You picked cute outfits.” 

“It took me two hours. You’re way better at this stuff than me.” 

You smile. 

“Do you ever realize how hard it is to do this stuff without me? Because I think about it all the time, how…how hard it would be to do stuff without you.”

“I’m starting to get an idea.” Eren responds. 

“I think about it all the time. I hate doing the laundry because the machine is too tall. And I don’t really like to drive at night. I prefer doing groceries together.” 

“I do too. I can stop you from buying the entire store.” 

“Hey.”

Eren laughs. 

“It’s hard enough to manage those thoughts on my own. It’s hard enough to not think about Marco and Maya like that. And I know it’s not that serious and I’m being a stickler and it’s…it’s not that deep but you would basically be handing me a list of things to worry about everyday.” you respond. 

Eren hums in response. 

“I don’t want to think about you forgetting me. I don’t want to think about Marco and Maya getting surgery like Connie and recovering for so long after the fact. I hate to think you're driving without me because I don’t know if you’re at a really long stoplight or your car stopped there because of something else. I would hate to think that the last thing you and I ever did was fight because I could never get over that. We already spent so much time not talking to each other and I don’t want to do it again.” 

Eren squeezes your hand three times. 

“I would love it if you could have told me that in the first place instead of pulling away.” Eren murmurs. 

“I don’t want to talk about anxiety medication again. I hate that I’m even bringing this up again. I should be over all of it by now. I know logically that telling you will make me feel better but I can’t because sometimes I just don’t want to feel better. I’m…I’m so upset that we spent so much time apart and you were alone. I hate not talking because it just…it just reminds me that the entire period we spent apart was preventable if I wasn’t so stupid. You can’t be like Marco for me because that would be my final straw. And yet I���m here letting it all happen because I just can’t do anything.” 

Eren takes a beat. For a long time, almost like he’s thinking of the right thing to say. And it takes a few minutes, a few quiet minutes of him rubbing circles into your hand, before he figures out what to say. 

“Do you really think I ever got over what happened?” Eren asks. 

“What?”  

“You’re forgetting that I was the one who was horrible to you first. It’s not a particularly easy feeling to live with. Do you even remember what I said?” Eren whispers. 

“Well, I…” 

“Not just to you. To Armin. To Connie. Even Marco, when he was just trying to be nice to me.” Eren responds. 

You pause. 

“I have to remind myself that I can’t necessarily live there anymore. Not in that part of mind. Not when you look to me for support. When I have them to take care of. I don’t want to think about that when you’re all here with me.” 

You smile. 

“I did slap you. That’s considerably bad.” you respond. 

Eren laughs. 

“It didn’t hurt.” he responds. 

“I was wearing rings.” 

“You could never hurt me.” Eren responds. 

“But I did.”  

Eren sighs. 

“You can’t just expect everything that happened to be over for you. It’ll come up when it comes up. Even when you think that it’s long gone. Sometimes you don’t want to pick yourself up. It’s considerably easy when you let us do it for you.” 

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” 

“It’s hard to pry into your mind sometimes.” Eren shrugs. 

“It’s hard to let people in when I still feel like I’m fifteen and the only person on the outside.” you murmur. 

Maya shuffles around in Eren’s arm, in what has to be an uncomfortable position as Eren secures her against him. 

“I’m not people. Everyone else is on the outside from you and me.” Eren responds. 

“You’re more than people. It’s hard to disappoint you.” 

“You have to know you could never do that.” 

You lean your head against Eren’s. 

“Will you take Maya on a date when she’s old enough?” you ask. 

Eren smiles. 

“I’ll make Levi do it. She’s going to think I’m biased. I am her dad and all. And if she’s your daughter, she’s going to be stubborn and do the opposite of what I say.” 

“Well, then she’ll give you a run for your money. You can reach Levi levels of patience.” 

Eren laughs. 

“For what it’s worth, you’re exactly what Levi described for Sasha. All the qualities you should look for in someone.” 

“I am?” Eren asks, grinning ear to ear. 

“Don’t get a big head.” 

“Do tell.” 

You sigh. 

“You make me try new things and push me out of my comfort zone. Like giving some weird genetic test a chance. At the very least just to stop…stop being so nervous about these types of things.” you murmur. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“It’s just a dumb test. It can’t hurt me, can it?.” 

“Well, whatever it is. We’ll figure it out together. What else?”

“We communicate well. At least when I can muster up the courage to do that.” 

Eren smiles. 

“I have an infinite amount of patience when it comes to you. I waited two years, I can wait a few days.” 

“I’ll try to make it so you don’t have to, Eren.” 

Eren smiles. 

“That would be appreciated.” 

You sigh. 

“You’re the only person I could share this type of stuff with. Responsibilities, burdens. Just hard to remember that you’re all on my side sometimes. I kind of catastrophize to the point where I think that’s not true.” 

Marco’s sleepy voice breaks the conversation. 

“Do you still have cooties?” 

You glare at Eren. 

“No. Go back to sleep.” 

“Oh thank god, sweetheart. I was starting to get sad about it.” Marco responds, eyes still lidded shut against your shoulder. 

“Sounds like we should go home.” Eren states. 

You give him a nod, handing the two of them over to Eren before bidding Sasha and Niccolo your last goodbyes. You can’t help but hold on to Sasha for a little too long, murmuring into her ear. 

“Thanks Sasha. Your help means a lot.” 

And when you pull back, there’s a glisten in her eye. You note that Levi’s watching the two of you, eyes focused as Hange rambles on in the background. 

“It’s nothing you didn’t do for me first, princess.” 

“Just count yourself lucky that you got free food out of it.” 

Sasha smiles. 

“He works for his audience.” 

--

There’s a white envelope waiting on the counter as you cut Eren’s hair. It takes extreme focus – to not think about what’s in there and instead focus on the conversation Eren’s having with Marco and Maya and cutting his hair. 

“Eren. Do you have a favorite color?” Maya asks. 

“My favorite color is your favorite color, sweet pea.” 

Maya glares at Eren. 

“You don’t even know my favorite color.” Maya deadpans. 

Eren shoots you a signal for help, as you mouth purple in the mirror. 

“As if. Your favorite color is purple.” Eren responds. 

“You cheated. Sweetheart told you.” Maya responds. 

You laugh. 

“I did no such thing.” you respond. 

“Maya. You’re not supposed to do that.” Marco murmurs. 

“Do what?” Maya asks. 

“Side with Dad.” Marco whispers. 

You can’t help but laugh as you slip off the last of Eren’s hair, giving him a tap on the shoulder to signify that you’re done. Eren takes the note and immediately reaches for Marco, tickling at his side. 

“Who told you that, you little menace?” 

“She did.” 

You shake your head at Eren, as you reach for the envelope on the counter, and sliding your finger along the closing. You hand the papers over to Eren, who agreed to open them and read them for you. His green eyes dart through all three of the papers, as Marco and Maya tangle themselves in between your legs. 

“You know. I’m unbelievably healthy.” Eren responds. 

“Hilarious.” 

“Really. You can read it for yourself.” 

Eren hands you the papers, three pages worth of a testament to the fact that he just said. Each glaring red text, indicating a negative response fills your heart with joy, especially regarding what you cared about the most. 

His memory. 

Eren gives you a glimmering smile, eyes filled with warm recognition of you, that was promised, at least for the most part, not to fade. 

--

edit: I just realized this was way too similar to the last extra that i wrote but fuck it we ball

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @itzmeme @erensmoodygf @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

[youaintnothinbuta]

“Elvis, stop it.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: Drabble where Elvis is being cheeky during dinner preparations, making a comment that has you feeling a flustered. There’s no real plot lol (unless anyone wants a smutty part 2)

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!elvis x reader

Word count: 544

Warnings: fluff, mild sexual innuendos

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You, Elvis, and some family were gathered around the kitchen island, everyone fussing and eagerly awaiting the delicious meal you were preparing, having a pizza night at home.

Elvis couldn't resist sneaking over to where you were chopping up toppings and stealing little bites. You laughed as he popped a cherry tomato into his mouth, shaking your head at his antics.

“Elvis, stop it,” you scolded playfully, trying to fend him off with your knife.

But Elvis just laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he reached for another olive.

“I can't help myself,” he protested, his mouth full of food.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

“Well, the more you eat now, the less you'll have on your pizza,” you teased, pushing his hand away from taking more. Undeterred, Elvis wrapped his arms around you from behind, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I wanna eat you now,” he whispered into your ear, causing you to blush bright red.

“Elvis!” you exclaimed, playfully swatting at him. “Behave yourself.”

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your cheek before reluctantly releasing you.

“Okay, okay,” he said with a grin, raising his hands in surrender. “I'll behave...”

With a laugh, you turned back to your chopping, shaking your head at him. Despite his mischievous behavior, you couldn't help but feel grateful for him and the love and laughter he brought into your home. As the delicious aroma of freshly baked pizza filled the room, you all gathered around the table, eagerly digging in. Laughter and conversation flowed freely as you enjoyed each other's company.

After dinner, Elvis graciously offered to take care of the dishes, collecting everyone's plates and utensils and disappearing into the kitchen. You watched him go, a fond smile on your lips, before realizing your glass of wine was empty.

“Elvis, could you pour me another glass, please?” you called out to him, hoping he could hear you from the kitchen.

A moment later, Elvis emerged from the kitchen, a mischievous grin on his face as he approached you.

“Yes ma'am,” he replied, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek before disappearing back into the kitchen. You smiled at his playful demeanor as you watched him pour you another glass of wine. When he returned, he handed you the glass with a flourish, his eyes sparkling with affection.

“Thank you,” you murmured, reaching out to touch his hand. He grinned, leaning closer to you.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.

You contemplated for a moment, leaning in close to him, you whispered into his ear, “Does your offer still stand?”

Elvis's eyes widened slightly at your words, and he cleared his throat nervously. “You want me to?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Mhm,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his ear.

Without hesitation, Elvis gracefully removed the glass from your hand and popped it down on the table, sweeping you off your feet, his strong arms effortlessly lifting you into his embrace. As he carried you upstairs, a wave of excitement washed over you, knowing that you were in for one hell of a treat.

Smutty part two here as promised ;)

[cellu-lightreading]

Uncle Mac's Thanksgiving Glow

“I can’t believe Uncle Mac is making you all work on Thanksgiving night!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t believe it if it wasn’t the busiest day of the year, but it’s not a bad way to spend the holiday. It’s like getting to be with a bunch of families instead.”  The twang in Ben’s voice helped to hide the mix of emotions over the phone. Days like this it was impossible to not think about his family, even after all these years. His parents decided they didn’t want anything to do with him anymore once he came out, and he’s been making a new life for himself ever since. He can’t help but picture being back at that dinner table on Thanksgiving night with his cousins but being at the diner really did help to help the wound. He was grateful for the real love in his life. 

Ben and Lance had a new Thanksgiving tradition of hanging out with this father-son duo who found the restaurant some years ago looking for someone to cook them something special for Turkey Day. The story was sweet, and the dad- Whit- always started his tellings saying “I wish you all could have met my Sarah. She was an excellent cook. Food was her love language, the same way it’s all yours.”

Lance wonders sometimes if it was exactly the same as two feeders, but the results are pretty damning. Whit was big like a parade balloon when we first met him. His weight was in the mid 300s, and he carried most of it in a round gut that walked into every room before the rest of him. She also seems to have completely beat out any impulse of picking food beyond whatever sounds good and filling (and probably fattening). On the other hand, when you look at his son Walter, it’s clear that Sarah was good about keeping her boys fed. He was a puffy guy who had a magnetic attraction to anything sweet. He was noticeably smaller than his dad though; his weight was probably still in the 200s. 

Whit and Walter started coming to Uncle Mac’s their first Thanksgiving without Sara. They said they wanted a homely holiday with all their favorite traditional foods: mashed potatoes, stuffing, and tons of gravy. They enjoyed watching regulars file in on the holiday, watching them hug on their way too and from dinner with their families. Friends crowding around the TV screen for football. The waiters treated them with all the care and love in the world. Most importantly: everyone loved their food. Whit liked hearing all the customers with their Thanksgiving plans. 

“This year we have to go to have dinner with the in-laws and the food is always brutal. It’s always some fad health food that their trainers told them will be good for them. The stuff isn’t meant for human consumption, I tell you. It’s disgusting. Might as well sneak out for a real meal so I won’t be hangry like I was last year.”

“My wife has me on a diet right now, and apparently she was serious about not letting me cheat for Thanksgiving because she had something about every morsel of food on my plate. I shouldn’t be eating this, that’s too much, don’t over do it. Like damn, this is the one day on the calendar where it is okay to over do it a little.” 

The men of Uncle Mac’s reminded them of all the joy that Sarah served them with their food, and now there was a place that appreciated fat men like them. 

After spending an evening at Uncle Mac’s, food became an emotional touchpoint for Whit and Walter. It brought back memories of happy times and made new happy ones. Food was like a constant source of warm fuzzy happy memories that they could press over and over again. And without the guided hand and home cooking of Sarah, the boys were okay with eating anything. Gone were the feasts with balanced meals and in came all the trash they could possibly want. Stacks of pizza boxes, platters of ribs, and quesadillas and burritos wrapped in aluminum foil. Delivery and take out became their best friends.  It didn’t take them long until they were regulars at all their favorite restaurants, and the cashiers knew their names. 

They’re having fun. For the first time since Sarah’s death, they are having a good time. If food is what brings them together, then so be it. Whit loved bringing home giant bags of burgers if it means getting to see his boy smile. Walter liked encouraging his dad to have a big dessert as a midnight snack before bed. Neither of them ever take the bold step of shooting down a food idea. An extra couple boxes of wings with their pizza? Why not? A stop for ice cream on the way from the grocery store? Sounds good. 

But after a while, these aren’t treats anymore. It’s the new normal. Walter and Whit systematically eroded their willpower until food was their focus all the time. They never said no. Walter bought something every time he passed a food court or a vending machine on campus. Whit was always eating the snacks in the break room. 

Day after day, week after week, the calories went in and they didn’t disappear. Whit and Walter’s chunk frames started packing on pounds at breakneck speed. The waiters at Uncle Mac’s are experts at seeing guys get big; their estimates said they were gaining somewhere around 15 pounds a month. They were spiraling out of control, faster than they could even register. It seemed that every time they stopped by, they were always squeezed into shirts that couldn’t cover their whole belly and pants tight enough to outline the rolls inside their upper thighs. Raul thought it was cute that they still tried to squeeze themselves into the normal sized booths even though they could only fit if they sat on the same side and pushed the table back.  

When the coats came off in the spring and they saw just how much rounder they had become from months of binging, the waiters at Uncle Mac’s were in  a dilemma. It was obvious that no one was willing to be honest to Whit and Walter about just how much they had grown. They theorized that their friends were apprehensive to tell them how fragile they were emotionally right now. After all, the most important woman in their lives had died just a few months ago, who were they to say ‘move on with your lives and put down the fork, you’re comfort eating yourselves into immobility’?” According to their inside straw poll, not them. The vote came out five votes to four, so they all agreed to keep their mouths shut.

Lucky for the losing side of the argument, reality finally crashed through by the next time they came in a couple months later. Someone was doing a presentation in one of Walter’s classes and they had to use a different room for the day. Unlike the sturdy industrial metal ones he was used to, these were cheap plastic with attached armrests and desks. It was still wider than a lot of other chairs with armrests, so Walter thought he stood a good chance of being able to squeeze in. He leaned back to drop his body into the cup of the chair and got stuck. Really what happened is his love handles were too wide to slide into the chair. Thinking it had just been a fluke, Walter tried to push on the creaking chair to let him settle in. He was closer, but nowhere near the bottom. The creaking of the chair got louder. Walter slowly slid down and the plastic around his ass was starting to bend and warp. Snap! Walter looked down and a big new hole appeared. Snap! Snap! Snap! Now there’s multiple holes and one of the armrests and has almost entirely popped off. Crackle! Pop! Thud! The force of Walter falling to the floor shook the whole classroom from the chairs to the walls. All of the eyes in the room began to focus on him. The window of the door was filled with people peering in to find the source of the thunderous vibration. 

When Walter came home and told his dad, the older man couldn’t help but feel bad as he searched for the scale. How could he have let things get like this? He looked down at his own body and thought about how lucky he had been to not have to go through something just as embarrassing. The yoga ball sized gut that sat in his lap all day was growing just like the pillows around his arms and moobs that kept him from ever putting them down at his size. Whit slid out the scale and let Walter step on. After a few tense seconds and a brief struggle to see the result past their billowing bellies, Walter read out:

“Error. Guess we’ve outgrown this old thing too, huh, Dad?” 

Whit nodded in response. “Yeah, I think this has a capacity of around 300, so we’re going to need something pretty serious to replace it.”

So they went into the supermarket and stood on the industrial scales before the crowd bustling around them. The dial was big enough for them to see with ease and big enough for anyone passing by to get a glimpse of the number too. Walter stepped on the scale and the needle went flying into the 300s, landing squarely at 376. Whit took a deep breath before taking his turn. The number couldn’t be any worse than the feeling of the weight on his chest when he lays on his chest, he reasoned. The step onto the platform revealed the number: 487. Just one good meal short of 500.

“Walter, I’m so sorry. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of us and now look at us.”

“But Dad, you did take care of me. So maybe we’re not fitness models, but I’m okay. You kept joy in my life when it wasn’t a guarantee at all. If you don’t believe me, then we’ll have to go somewhere people really know us so they can tell you.”

Walter brought his dad to Uncle Mac’s and explained the whole situation. The waiters were frankly relieved to be able to talk out the guys’ weight freely. Now they could offer actually useful advice.

“There is nothing wrong to look for something comforting in the aftermath of a traumatic event like the love of your life dying. Unhealthy would be picking up drinking or crime or trying to suppress the emotions until they explode.” Taylor explained as he took their order and added an extra appetizer to the order. 

“And there’s nothing wrong with getting big and being fat. We happen to like guys that way, and we’re not the only ones.” Lance said as he dropped off their food. 

“The real problem,” Ben insisted as he passed out dessert, “is that you lived in denial for such a long time and tried to pretend you were just the same as stick thin guys. You need to live fat guy lives. You need to get clothes that fit and stop trying to sit in flimsy chairs. Listen to Raul and stop trying to squeeze in between things like your ass can’t knock things over before you know it exists. Even if you tried dieting, which I don’t think will work that well but let’s assume, you won’t be thin tomorrow. You still have to live in the giant bodies you have right now. You might as well get used to it. You’re fat guys who enjoy their food, live it up.”

Whit wasn’t entirely sure he trusted the guys at Uncle Mac’s first, but he decided to give it a try. He started small by buying a seat belt extender for his car (because it had been a long time since he got that to buckle). Then he tried using two chairs to support his weight and avoiding plastic seats. When he went a full week without hearing something creak under him, he was convinced. He invested in buying new big and tall furniture for his house, rearrange everything to get rid of the narrow corners, he even switched out his belts at work for suspenders and found out that he was a lot more comfortable and ate more when he didn’t have a belt digging into him all the time. With just a couple alterations, Whit has turned the house into a haven for the two fat boys who call it home. 

Cool air and the smell of stuffing rolled around again just three months later. Thanksgiving reappeared and the waiters were looking to see all their favorite faces. When Walter and Whit waddled in, Raul gasped. It was the kind of transformation that gainers could never get on purpose. They were gigantic. Their faces had gotten so inflated, they almost looked like different people. And when they ate, it was like they had unlocked different people. Gone were the timid guys who casually worked through half a chicken as a snack. Now they mowed through the food like true pigs. If something managed to spill out their mouth, they were coming behind it with a piece of bread and licking their fingers. They couldn’t get enough no matter how much they order.

Ben and Lance looked on as they observed what had become of the timid two who had walked in the year before looking for a little TLC. When Whit popped a button off of his shirt, a wide small spread across Walter’s face and that was the moment they knew. Walter was beaming with pride watching his dad get so big. Whit smiled back at his son. These were two more of Uncle Mac’s pigs, forever changed. 

Two Thanksgivings later, Walter and Whit were waddling through the door once again with bright smiles on their faces. They said hello to everyone they saw, now knowing the names of so many of the other regulars. As happy as they were, the sweat forming on their brow in the cool November air was proof that the distance from their car was not such a casual trip anymore. A space on the benches in the waiting area appeared for the pair of them.

Walter is now one of the biggest guys in the whole restaurant, and people treated him like the massive superchub he was. It’s an impressive feat to cross the 600 pound mark before the age of 23. The only reason he seemed to stick in some people’s minds as smaller than he actually was, was because he always came in with his dad. Whit is so big now, every step seems like a triumph. Immobility is knocking on the door all the time and there’s no telling when it will come. He still wouldn’t miss being at the diner though. 

Lance and Ben took care of their old friends and let them chow down as the food came out. Their orders were too big to fit on the table anyway, so at least this way they have time to sit and chat while they eat. 

“I can’t believe you wake up every morning and still drag your 750 pound body into work everyday. That’s dedication.” Lance said. 

“Well I like what I do, and besides how else are we going to keep food on the table if folks don’t go to work?” Whit responded. 

“This is his coded way of saying that he doesn’t want me at home taking care of him,” Walter said. 

“What do I need him home for? He’s not that much better than me at being able to pick things up off the ground or walking long or medium distances. He’s a young guy who has better things to do than hang around his old man like start his career.” Whit explained. Ben couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ben, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Would your dad put your life on pause like that?”

Ben’s eyes opened wide. “Oh I wouldn’t trust my dad’s opinion on anything.”

“He raised you. He must have done a decent job somewhere along the way. I bet he’s proud to have a son like you walking around.”

“My dad cut me out of his life some years ago. I haven’t heard from my family in forever.”

Whit cupped Ben’s face in his hand and said, “Well know that I’m so very proud of you. I’m glad to have you as my family. I know you’re busy at work, but know you’d always be welcome at our table for Thanksgiving.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time son. Now be a good boy and get your folks a glass of the sweet potato pie milkshake,” Whit said.

Ben laughed and said, “Yes sir. Comin’ right up.”

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 9

Geralt and Jaskier very quietly rearranged the living room. It was after 10pm, Yennefer had gone to bed about an hour ago, and it was go time. It was dark outside, the living room lit only by the little bit of light from the streetlights that managed to filter through the blinds.

There was some uncoordinated manuevering, a bit of stifled grunting, a little whispered arguing, and some quiet cursing when Geralt put the couch down on Jaskier's toe.

"Owowowow!"

"What?"

"My toe--it's on my toe! *lowercase squealing* "Motherf**ker!"

*quiet grunt*

After a few moments of quiet cursing, Jaskier deemed his toe only mildly squished, and they continued with their task. Several moments of arguing, grunting, and swearing at each other later, and the task was complete.

A waterproof tarp was very quietly unfolded and added to the arrangement, along with a few ropes threaded through the tarp grommets to add structural support and keep the tarp in place.

Now it was ready for the complicated part. They had to move fast. This stuff needed time to sit for at least 6 hours before they could use it, so it had to be finished before Yennefer got up.

Geralt sneaked outside and ran the garden hose through the living room and into the tarp-lined space between the couches.

The water was turned on and Jaskier poured in a bucketful of some mystery substance that Geralt had only heard about yesterday. He wasn't really one for keeping up with the latest and greatest, but this had grabbed his attention.

Once they had added the correct amount of 'fun stuff' to the water, Jaskier went back to bed, and Geralt went to Yennefer's room to make sure she didn't get up and discover their handywork.

Morning, and Yennefer, found them sitting in a swimming pool made of two couches and a tarp, and filled with thousands of water beads. They were eating cereal and watching Saturday morning cartoons.

Jaskier and Geralt turned to look at her as she came to stand beside the surprisingly well-designed construction.

Yennefer heaved a mental sigh. She supposed she should be grateful they were literally just sitting quietly and not doing something really f***ing stupid, like jumping off the roof. And at least they weren't naked. She noted they were wearing swim trunks. Thank the gods for small miracles.

"It's 8am on a Saturday. It's too d*mn early for this." she said.

"It's never too early for an orbeez pool party!" Jaskier replied haughtily as he shoveled sugary cereal into his mouth.

"Ugh, can't you two w*nkers ever act like normal human beings?"

"I can't," Geralt responded, "I'm not a human, I'm a Witcher."

"So what's your excuse?" Yennefer asked, rounding on Jaskier.

"He's an idiot."

"Excuse me!"Jaskier squawked indignantly, spraying cereal over the side of the 'pool'.

"You're excused, just try to work on yourself, maybe try not being a f**kwit."

"B*tch!"

"A**wipe!"

Your face is ugly!"

"Your mom's ugly!"

"GeRaLt!!!!"

Yennefer took herself off to the kitchen, leaving Geralt to deal with his bard's whining.

They spent all day lounging in the water beads. The only time one of them got out was to get another plate of pizza rolls, drinks, or to use the bathroom.

A wrestling match broke out close to evening when Geralt took the last pizza roll out of Jaskier's hand.

"You unscrupulous b**tard!"

Yennefer looked out of the kitchen, where she was trying out a new soup recepie, and saw Geralt holding Jaskier at arm's length, trying to keep the bard away from the last pizza roll he was holding.

"Give it back!"

Geralt shoved Jaskier's head under the water beads and shoved the pizza roll into his mouth. Jaskier surfaced with an indignant screech. He took one look at Geralt, who was chewing like a dog worried it's owner was going to take the food out of it's mouth, and tackled him.

They both disappeared into the multicolored beads. Yennefer wandered over to watch as they stood up, continuing to grapple and shove.

She was going to tell them to stop. Eventually. For now, she was going to enjoy the show. No way she was going to pass up the opportunity to watch two wet, bare chested, hot men roll around and put their hands all over each other.

Yennefer got a very nice full frontal view of Geralt when Jaskier pulled out the Dirty Fighting playbook and yanked Geralt's swim trunks down. Geralt immediately whipped around. Jaskier, who hadn't had time to stand back up and was still at crotch level, got smacked in the face.

Yennefer ugly laughed as Jaskier sputtered in shock. The look on his face was priceless.

Jaskier.exe has stopped working

She could practically hear the old AOL dial-up sound as his brain rebooted.

Jaskier stood there, a confused look on his face, trying to work out how he felt about getting slapped in the face with a d*ck.

New Kink Unlocked...?

He didn't have enough time to really process it though, because Geralt picked him up and flipped him over his shoulder, dumping him into the water beads.

Jaskier rose in a cascade of beads, arm raised. There was a sound like a gunshot, and Geralt jumped, stiffening up with a yelp. A red welt in the shape of Jaskier's hand glowed on Geralt's right a** cheek.

Jaskier saw the look in Geralt's eyes. Oh, he was f**ked.

"Now hold on a minute!"

Geralt growled, then hissed and started towards him.

"I-I barely touched you!" Jaskier stammered and started flailing to the edge of the pool as fast as he could, Geralt slogging towards him purposfully, like and unstoppable juggernaut.

Out of desperation, Jaskier considered all his options, and went with the most reasonable, logical, least ridiculous one.

He looked at Geralt and said sternly, "SPSPSP!"

It had zero effect, aside from earning him another hiss.

Jaskier slipped and flailed, trying to shuffle to safety, a naked, angry Witcher slogging towards him. Yennefer was laughing the entire time, but then realized her mistake. She had gotten too close to the edge of the couch, and now her laughter turned into a shriek of surprise.

Jaskier made a desperate leap and grabbed at Yennefer, trying to use her to help pull himself out of the pool. Geralt pawed at Jaskier, massive hands trying to find purchase.

The witch tried to run, but it was too late. Geralt managed to get a good grip on Jaskier, grabbed him around the waist, and gave a mighty heave.

Yennefer and Jaskier both screamed as they were yanked into the pool. Geralt was knocked off balance by the extra weight hitting him, and the three of them fell into the orbeez pool.

One of the ropes holding the pool together gave up the ghost, and the pool burst. Various exclamations of surprise were made as they spilled out of the pool, and the living room was flooded with thousands of orbeez.

They laid there for a moment, collecting their wits. Geralt and Jaskier sat in the middle of the destruction, looking stunned. Jaskier looked at Geralt and had the audacity to start giggling.

"You ar**hole!" Yennefer snapped, smacking him on the head, " Don't laugh! Look at this mess!"

She rose, brushing herself off. "Clean this up, now! And Geralt, put some d*mn pants on!"

They spent the rest of their evening finding every single last orbee.

[smilesession]

I had a singularly bizarre and kaleidoscopic dream while asleep for about an hour and a half and I need to share it before I lose my memory of it. Sorry. I think this is kind of thematically interesting but it’s also horribly embarrassing and revealing of things I don’t even reveal to myself:

I go to a Papa John’s with a vague group of family and friends and I go up to the counter to put in our order. I tell the guy taking orders “I would like a large Film Pizza and a side of cheese bread.” The idea of film pizza in this dream was legible, a type of pizza, my favorite type of pizza, and a pizza order that conveyed a cultured palate. When he hands me my order, it’s clear that whoever made it was unskilled and unfamiliar with “film pizza” and it looked like shit, all the slices were pulled apart, it was just heavy tomato sauce and unmelted cheese, it was bad. And I stand up for myself and I shout at the guy, “hey I wanted a FILM PIZZA. A regular FILM PIZZA. This isn’t a FILM PIZZA. Looks like it has some kind of a film coating it, maybe!” and this was the funniest joke imaginable to me (film as in a cinematic type of pizza - film as in some kind of gross layer coating something) and I felt cool and clever. They remake my pizza

I am up at the counter and I’m wearing a jacket with band patches and pins on it and the cashier smiles at me and says “Whoaaa, I never thought I’d see a GIRL fan of FLIPPER around here…” and he and another man begin to touch me and examine my coat and praise me. My order comes out. It’s a pizza with olives and chicken on it and a separate plate of some chunks of something. I’m vaguely convinced this is not “film pizza with a side of cheese bread” but people are waiting so I bring it back to the table.

The pizza is good and the side of cheese bread turns out to be some kind of cheesecake, but I don’t want to bother with another correction so I just try it. It’s the most delicious thing imaginable, coated in white chocolate candy with soft cake inside, I start pigging out on it, it becomes a huge hot fudge sundae with chunks of this cake, me and a girl at the table begin fighting over it, I’m being selfish because I put in the work to order and buy it. We reach the bottom of the bowl and it becomes disgusting, hot fudge mixed with barbecue sauce and wet chicken meat, the immaculately delicious thing seems like it was just an illusion or a mirage I was having and I feel disgusted

After dinner I’m walking with my parents and my mother is wasted and being very physically affectionate toward my dad (in my real life I’ve never seen my parents even hug or kiss and I’ve never seen my mom drunk). They keep attempting to sneak off to be alone, I remember it’s their anniversary (in real life their anniversary is my birthday) but she’s stumbling and falling. I get worried about her and try to keep up with her and she’s getting loud and boisterous and trying to run. I say “mom are you having a manic episode?” And she says “yes!!! I’m going a mile a minute!!!!” and she runs off and is gone. I try to find her. I lose her, I try to find a way to look out over the city to find her.

I see the scrobbles man alone in a parking lot lit up under a streetlight, he is walking in circles. I don’t want to be seen. I overcome my fear of heights and climb up a tall ladder to the top of a building but there’s barbed wire at the top, I need to come down. As I try to get down the ladder, it starts to bounce back and forth. Every time it goes forward, it crashes hard against the side of the building and hurts me, and then it repels backwards; I can’t get down. I think I end up jumping down. I run through the city alone trying to get back to my room. I pass by doorways and see crowds of everyone I’ve ever known huddled in buildings looking out at me.

I get to the privacy of some kind of a dressing room that has a young male receptionist outside the door. He’s working on a computer in an open cubicle. The room I’m in is full of windows and there’s very little real privacy, I try to strategically stay behind the door so the man doesn’t see me. I need to change clothes. I have the sense that I need to change my appearance to achieve some vague goal. I start trying different variations of my outfit. I end up deciding that I need to be wearing less. I end up in a mesh top with no bra and my breasts exposed, I end up wearing a thong that shows out from a short skirt, I end up putting on boots, I end up reapplying my makeup. There is a mirror and I become aroused and excited at the sight of myself. I become aroused and excited at the thought that the man at the desk had seen me. I leave the room and I say “I hope I didn’t disturb you by changing clothes so near to you” and he says something very vulgar and essentially that he enjoyed watching me change. I think I briefly leave the room but then I return and he’s no longer there.

I begin filming a pornographic video of myself but I can’t get it right, I can’t convey what I’m seeing in my mind, I spend an hour trying to take a video. Suddenly the room is full of men, older professional men. They are working around a computer. The oldest man is near me and watching me. I start to feel horribly embarrassed and stupid but I can’t really stop what I’m doing. The men are working on some kind of occult/cryptozoological research. They are watching a documentary video they took of a beast that emerged from ancient ruins.

Then my alarm went off

[callme-dickmaster]

Sweetheart - (eddie munson x reader)

Ch. Eleven - Big Papa's House

summary: the morning after is cut short by a moment of panic for max's wellbeing in her own house cw: 18+ (minors dni) this is obnoxiously long, unfortunate use of y/n, language, fluff, body shaming (billy obv) -i think that's all- author's note: it's startinngggg omg i'm so excited for these chapters. love you <3

Series Masterlist

Y/n squinted as she woke up in yet another room that was not hers. She smirked to herself at the poster of the model on the ceiling and ran a hand down her face.

“Mm- Eddie?” Y/n groaned, noticing the space next to her was empty. She grunted, stretching that really good morning stretch before she decided to get out of bed. “Only 12:30? Nice.” She thought.

Y/n walked out into the living area, spotting Eddie shuffling around the kitchen.

“Eddie?” Y/n asked, leaning on the counter. Eddie jumped, bumping his head on the cabinet, and whirling around to face her.

“Hey! Hi! …Yo…” he said awkwardly.

Y/n smirked, her amusement at Eddie’s flustered state making it just a tiny bit worse. “What ‘cha doin?” she giggled. Eddie grinned, motioning to the toaster that was cooking four waffles in it. “Making breakfast!” he said excitedly.

Y/n smiled, peeking into the toaster as Eddie got the syrup. She traipsed over to the cabinet he was standing at and stole the peanut butter before he could close the door. Eddie giggled and grabbed a couple plates while they waited for the waffles to pop out.

“You don’t put peanut butter on your waffles?” Y/n asked when Eddie looked at her completely baffled as she spread the crunchy peanut butter on the toasted breakfast. He smiled and shook his head, still putting plain butter on his. “Okay, well, now you have to try it. Now that I know you are uneducated in the art of fine cuisine,” Y/n giggled, cutting a piece off and dipping it in the pool of syrup on her plate.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, “The fine cuisine of waffles? What cuisine is that? EBT?” he laughed. Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile, waving the fork in his face. Eddie grinned and took the bite, his eyes widening and a look of appreciation crossing his face.

“Okay, that’s good!” he said, pointing at her.

Y/n shrugged cockily and nodded, “I know. I’m a genius,” she sighed.

Eddie giggled, taking Y/n and their waffles back into his room. They quietly pulled the TV into his room, unplugging an amp and plugging in the TV instead. They got shit picture in there, but they didn’t want to disturb Wayne.

After their breakfast, Y/n took their plates and asked Eddie to use their phone. She rolled her eyes when Billy answered the phone, “Hey. Where’s my mom?” she asked.

“Out. What do you want?” he snapped.

Y/n could hear music blasting in the background, so she knew no one else was home. “Okay, well, just let her know I’m coming home sometime today. Thanks Billy!” she chirped, hanging up on him.

She walked back into Eddie’s room and hopped on the bed, laying up next to him and watching whatever cartoon he turned on. “What’d your mom say?” Eddie mumbled, still watching the screen. “She wasn’t home. I’ll just go home whenever you kick me out,” Y/n shrugged.

Eddie smirked, “Well, then you’re never going home,” he said.

Y/n giggled, nudging him with her foot. “It’s not kidnapping if it’s consensual. Sorry you won’t get the jail time you want,” she said.

Eddie giggled, curling his lips in so he didn’t get too loud. Y/n smiled, deciding to just watch the show instead of looking at the obnoxiously cute boy next to her. Every so often, Eddie and Y/n would sneak into the kitchen to steal a slice of pizza or a snack cake, or one of them would use the bathroom. At six on the dot, Wayne knocked on Eddie’s door, opening it at Eddie’s call.

He stood there, saw Eddie, saw Y/n, then smiled.

“Oh, hi! I’m Wayne, Eddie’s uncle,” Wayne said kindly. Y/n smiled and nodded, “I know. I’m Y/n,” she replied.

Wayne nodded, shaking her hand. “Real nice… real nice…” he faced Eddie then, “Well, I’m heading out for work. Gettin’ some overtime in while I can and all. You know the drill, there’s some dinner money on the counter for ‘ya. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good to meet ‘ya Y/n,” he said. “You too, sir!” she said.

Wayne stopped and smiled, “I like her,” he laughed, “See y’all.”

The two teens waved and called bye to him before Eddie started laughing. “What?” Y/n giggled. “Sir? You too, sir!” he said in a high-pitched voice before laughing again. Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile. Eddie wiped a fake tear from his face and calmed his laughter.

“You’re so polite, it’s hilarious,” he sighed. Y/n flicked his arm in retaliation, unintentionally starting a war. They went back and forth until they were full on swatting at each other like two little girls. “Okay! Okay! You win!” Y/n said, pinning his arms to his sides.

Eddie laughed, tossing his arm over her shoulders to hug her close as an apology. Y/n didn’t stop him, and he didn’t take his arm back. They laid there, the TV long forgotten, and just talked. It felt so easy to them. There was no anxiety about saying the wrong thing, or the other person judging them for anything they were to say. It felt like a dream.

Almost perfect.

Y/n suddenly sat up, checking Eddie’s watch, and cursing before jumping up from the bed.

“Shit! Shit!” she squeaked, grabbing her boots, and jumping around as she tried to shove them on her feet. “What?!” Eddie replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Fuck! I’m sorry, Eddie, I have to go. M-my sister… Max. Max is home alone!” Y/n exclaimed, gripping her hair as she paced his bedroom. Eddie stood up slowly, going to slide on some shoes so he could drive her home. “W-well, I can understand being worried about her, but isn’t she, like, fourteen?” he asked.

Y/n whirled around to look at him, “She’s thirteen! And she’s home alone with Billy! I gotta go!” she said. Eddie’s eyes widened and he put some serious pep in his step, grabbing his keys and practically running with Y/n out to his van. “Drive, van, drive!” Eddie yelled, peeling out of the trailer park, and zooming towards Y/n’s house. Eddie took all the shortcuts he could think of and sped as fast as he could without crashing. He turned what should have been a ten-minute drive into a three-minute race.

“Thank you, Eddie, seriously,” she huffed. Eddie nodded, turning off the van and hopping out with her. Y/n stopped and looked at him, watching him storm up her driveway.

“What are you doing?!” she squeaked. He stopped and turned to her, looking at her like she had three heads.

“Making sure Max is okay? Oh, fuck! Wait, is it cool if I come up with you? I just wanna make sure everything is alright,” he said nervously. Y/n’s heart skipped a beat and she nodded, taking his hand, and leading him up to the front door. She walked in cautiously, Eddie right behind her. She squinted at how quiet the house was.

Y/n turned to look in the driveway, “Yeah, his car is still here…” she sighed, shutting the door. She kicked her boots off at the door, holding Eddie’s shoulder so she didn’t fall taking them off. If they weren’t so stressed, he could’ve laughed at how much shorter she got without her boots. Y/n smiled nervously and walked down the hallway to Billy’s room. She very slowly and very quietly cracked open the door to see him passed out on his bed. He was sleeping on top of the sheets in his shoes and everything.

She sighed, placing her boots on the floor and walking in. Y/n hated him, but he didn’t have anyone to take care of him. She could be nice just this once. Only once! Walking over to his closet, Y/n pulled a spare blanket from the shelf and draped it over him. Billy smiled in his sleep, pulling the blanket closer to him and curling up. She very gently pulled his shoes off and left them at the foot of the bed. Grabbing the empty beer bottles and flicking the lamp off, she walked out and shut the door behind her.

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “He’s passed out. I think it’s all okay…” she whispered. Eddie nodded, taking a couple of the bottles from her, and tossing them out in the outside garbage with her. “Thank you again, Eddie. You keep saving my ass,” she giggled.

Eddie blushed, kicking some pebbles on the street. “Eh, I don’t mind. I like being your knight in shining armor!” he snickered.

Y/n snorted, “Yeah, knight in shining denim. Seriously though, thank you. It means a lot,” she said.

Eddie smiled, hiding behind his hair. He mumbled another ‘no problem’ and she giggled at how shy he got. Someone as outspoken and, for lack of a better word, flamboyant as Eddie being shy was so funny to her. Robin told her that he’s been suspended for his outbursts and his basic lack of human decency sometimes, so to see him blushing and hiding behind his curtain of long curls was something she didn’t expect.

“Well, I’ll see you around? Maybe tomorrow or at school?” Eddie asked. Y/n smiled and nodded, messing with her fingers. “I’ll see you, Eddie. Thank you. For yesterday and today,” she replied.

Eddie smiled and nodded, opening his arms for a hug. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head in his chest. Eddie squeezed her tight, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before they said goodnight again. He waited until she was inside and safe to drive away and smiled the whole way home.

When he got back to the trailer, he ate their pizza leftovers for a late dinner and sat down on his bed with his notebook and a pencil. “Okay, new song…” he sighed, thinking of a pretty girl with black hair.

Speaking of… Y/n went up to Max’s door and knocked lightly. She opened it up at her call and smiled at her sister. “Y/n!” she said excitedly. She jumped up and ran to hug her sister. Y/n laughed, patting Max’s head, “Miss me? I was only gone for a night!” she giggled. Max smiled, “Felt like forever. It’s so boring without you to make fun of Billy! I had to do it all by myself, and that’s not fun,” she rolled her eyes.

Y/n snorted and went into the room with the younger girl. “You have any fun today?” she asked, laying with her on the bed. Max sat up, a funny look on her face.

“You will never guess what happened to me! This kid from my school has literally been, like, following me around. And he’s nice and all, and I wanna be his friend, but he met me at the arcade today and he had one of the managers fake a broken arcade machine just to talk to me!” she exclaimed, “And when I agreed to talk to him? He told me the reason him and his little group of friends treat me so weirdly is because of some “government conspiracy” and all about this, like, demon thing from another dimension. Like, come on! You can do better than that!” Y/n smirked, giving Max an amused look.

“Well, it’s obvious he’s got a little crush on you. I think he just wants to impress you. Kids, especially boys, do that. Just cut him some slack, he’s learning,” she said.

Max rolled her eyes mumbling ‘whatever’ and sitting next to her on the bed. Y/n opened her arms for her sister, Max immediately falling into them. “How do you take this place? If you don’t like it, we can always run away,” Y/n said, fully serious.

Max smiled, hugging the older girl a little tighter. Y/n and Max were always very close. Y/n always felt bad leaving her alone so she could go hang with friends or work whenever she had a job. It sucked. “I think we should stay. I think this place is nice. We both know some decent people now, and you look really happy. I don’t wanna go if it means you’ll be miserable again. I would rather you be happy than go back to California,” Max said.

Y/n smiled and squeezed her sister’s shoulders. She blushed lightly remembering that one of the decent people she knew was Eddie. “Nice. I wanna stay too. So, tell me about this government conspiracy,” Y/n laughed.

Max and Y/n sat up in bed as she talked. Y/n listened as she painted Max’s nails. She listened to her ramble on about the “Demogorgon” and the little slug that Dustin had found that he decided was a species he discovered. Listened to the story that the boy, Lucas, told her in the arcade. About this little super girl named Eleven and how she saved their lives and went missing. Y/n thought the story would made a great movie.

Y/n was giggling quietly, trying to glue the fake nails she bought days before on straight. Max was walking around her room, making fun of the group of boys she’d befriended.

Y/n decided she wasn’t fond of Mike at all. He seemed like a little asshole. If she wasn’t an adult, she would beat his scrawny ass.

Max and Y/n both soon decided they were tired and laid down on Max’s bed for the night. The sisters had a sleepover in Max’s room, sleeping soundly until Billy started up his bullshit again. Max was already up, deciding she wanted to get some skating in, while Y/n was very rudely awakened by Billy blasting music.

She sat up, looking like big bird with how messed up her hair was. Y/n stormed out of Max’s room, snatching her mom’s note off her bedroom door on the way and glaring at Billy.

“You look fucking stupid! I hope you know that! If you cared any more about what you looked like, you’d be a girl!” she yelled over his music. Billy dropped the dumbbell turning to her with a deadly glint in his eye. “You might wanna care more about what you look like, tubby! I can’t remember the last time I saw a chick your size balance on those platforms like you do!” he shot back before Max came inside. She slammed the door and stormed past the older teens into her room.

Y/n glared at him, “Yeah, so sorry Billy but unlike some people, you, I’m perfectly happy and content in my body and the way I look. You just look like a fucking moron because you care so fucking much what everyone else thinks you sound fucking pathetic! Just shut the fuck up and let me fucking sleep!” she screamed. Billy didn’t get to respond because Y/n was storming back up the stairs and into her room. She huffed, sitting at her vanity.

“Do I really not look as good as I thought?” she thought, poking her cheek. She stood up and pulled her (Eddie’s) shirt up to her boobs, pulling at the bit of fat that was there. Billy was such an asshole. Y/n rolled her eyes, annoyed she let his words get to her, and started to get ready for the day. She worked hard to get where she was and be happy and she would be damned if she let Billy ruin her confidence. Because she’s beautiful and fuck anyone who says otherwise.

She was going to see about hanging out with Eddie again. As she was starting on her lipstick, the doorbell rang. She didn’t bother. Billy was in the living room, whoever was there can just come back later if they needed to be there that badly. The doorbell rang another time, and another, and another until Billy yelled at Max to answer the door.

Y/n stomped downstairs, glaring at him from her position at the bottom of the stairs. “Will you please stop yelling at her?” she called.

Billy rolled his eyes and flipped her off, continuing his lifts. He dropped the bar, stalking towards the door until Max hurriedly came in, freezing when Billy stopped her with his arm. Y/n scoffed at her excuse of Mormons and followed her upstairs.

“Who was it?” she asked. Max stopped, glanced behind Y/n at Billy, and pulled her into Y/n’s room. “You know that kid I was telling you about? How he told me about the other dimension?” Y/n nodded slowly, getting an inkling of where this was going. “Well, he’s here. And he says he has proof… I wanna go,” Max said.

Y/n squinted before turning and grabbing her jacket, slipping on some converse, and grabbing a plastic bag from between her mattresses. “What are you doing?” Max asked. Y/n shrugged, “Coming with you. What, do you think I’m gonna miss out on interdimensional shit? Hell no!” she exclaimed.

Max smiled and grabbed her hand, pulling her into her room before she opened the window to reveal a short dark-skinned boy on a bike. Lucas. “Come on!” he waved them out. Y/n crawled out after Max and grabbed the skateboard she left leaned on the house.

“Wh-why is she following us?” Lucas stuttered. “Because she isn’t letting me go out with a strange boy I just met. Plus, she might be able to help,” Max replied, looking at Y/n who was gliding next to them on the street. The boy introduced himself to Y/n as best he could and repeated the situation to her.

Y/n could agree with Max that it sounded ridiculous, but the way this kid was explaining it to her made her want to believe him.

taglist: @sisgotdemons @tlclick73 @deafeningmoontragedy @marjoriea13 @playfuloutcast @twosluttychains @leetaeilsnecktattoo @lil-quinnie @razzles-bottom-lip @originalstar1 @yessargeantbarnes @bebe0701 @shotgunhallelujah @uselessastheginlasagnaa @mynameismothra @niragis-right-hand-rabbit @shecagobaby @moviefreak1205 @munsonmunster @chonkzombie @sadbitchfangirl @screaming-blue-bagel @urdad-hot @kjaxm @xxaestheticboyxx @ok-boke @coffeeaddictednymph @ohmeg

<3

[redisforhappy]

concept drawl ... tomura shigaraki x reader

Tomura Shigaraki hasn't seen you express real happiness in his entire time of knowing you. There's always a wall of toughness that you build with hard brick to prevent anybody from ever getting in. And maybe that's his fault, but it wasn't like he ever asked to be put in this house with you and told to get better.

He knows you've been thrown into this stress just as he has. You're not even a top hero, just barely making it up here. Yet you're tasked with housing Japan's number one supervillain of your time, to feed and clothe him, and to talk to him. Teach him things. Show him how to be good to people, normal. Whenever he goes to say something to you unprompted, you bring a hand to your face to massage your temple. Your eyebrows furrow and your resting face frown deepens.

This morning he actually tried to make you smile by waking up early and sneaking into the kitchen to attempt breakfast. Instead, he found out about the alert that goes off when he exits his bedroom door between the hours of 11 pm to 6 am (the hours you're asleep.) You'd jumped from your bed at the sound, an hour before you normally wake up, and stormed into the hallway to catch him.

Before he could say a thing, you were drilling him on staying in bed and listening for once. Things you never would have said if you weren't half asleep, but he didn't know that. He was hurt. He thought he'd been doing a good job of pretending to be somebody with a heart.

You had no hope in him, just like he thought. Everything he did, everything he said, was evil to you.

After your outburst, you started trembling. He saw it in your shoulders and felt it in your hands as you ushered him back into his room and shut the door on his face. It wasn't the first time a hero had shut him out, but it hurt more than it had in a long time as you were someone he'd spent every waking moment with for the last few months.

Tonight, Tomura sits in bed completely still and thinks about what he's done to lead up to this rehab, and what his future will look like. He imagines it will soon be himself strapped to a chair in a high security prison with a white jumpsuit and guns to his head. It will probably hurt, and you might be there initiating it.

"I just couldn't do it anymore," you will say, "he is the most disgusting human being I've ever met. I can't even look at him. It makes me sick."

This will make him cry, and then he will die.

Before he has time for any more bad thoughts to manifest, there's a gentle knock on the door followed by your voice. "Tomura, can I please come in?"

"Whatever."

You're still dressed in the same pajamas from earlier, but you're holding two plates of food that look mouth-wateringly good to he who hasn't eaten since last night's dinner. He was nervous about leaving his room, not wanting to stir anything up. You approach him shyly before offering the plate to him and sitting on the floor with your own. It's mashed potatoes and seasoned chicken breast, with some corn. He loves when you make food instead of ordering, even if he never admits it. It makes him feel appreciated in a way he hasn't been before. His villain life was full of fast food and really gross pizza.

"I'm proud of you, Tomura." His fork catches on his tongue as he stares at you with a subtle expression of shock and confusion. "I just.. I've been really stressed out. It's hard. I'm only 23. I don't come from a family of heroes or anything like that, so I've been trying to make a real name for myself forever, and the first time I'm recognized is for this. It's not that I don't love getting to help you, if I can call it that, but it's just not what my heart has always wanted. I'm made to fight, you know? I was eating boxed macaroni until you. I'm not a very.. domestic person."

This is the most Tomura's ever heard you speak, let alone lament at all. You've always been a private person, at least towards him, and he didn't really press for the personal stuff because 1. he didn't really care for a while, and 2. he'd hate if you did the same back to him.

But the way you're looking at him like he's real and physical makes him want to tell you about everything he's been through. All of the abuse and the dead friends and family he's struggled to say goodbye to and never told anyone about.

"Hey, that makes two of us, y/n."

"What part?"

"Oh. The fighting part."

"Right," you nod with a line-lipped smile and a mouth full of delicious food. Floor food... must be nice, right? He starts to feel guilty about the difference in level, so he slides off the bed to join you. "But I promise you, I don't regret any of this. I just.. thought I'd tell you so you know why I suck so bad at keeping cool and being all patient."

Tomura watches a singular tear well in your eye before you wipe it away nonchalantly and pretend it wasn't ever there. He's done that a few times before, but he doesn't really cry much anymore. Not as much as he did when he was young.

"I think you're better at it than you think you are," he says as he scoops some buttery potatoes onto his spoon, "sometimes, like when we're watching TV or cooking together, it kind of feels like you're my wife or something."

Really, he wouldn't have said it if he knew what was coming out of his mouth when he did. Words were just slipping off his tongue without him having any sort of control. It could be the food, or it could be your eyes. Still, it's true. He's developed a strange fascination with you (though he's convinced himself it's the proximity that's made him feel this way and not you specifically, like he'd fall for anybody if they gave him the chance.)

You're looking for the mischief in his eyes, just in case he's trying to fuck with you, and when you can't find it you awkwardly laugh off the comment and glue your eyes to your half eaten dinner instead.

"Yep. Definitely sticking to the fighting scene after this," you joke. Tomura's ears perk at the "after" but he doesn't dare question yet in fear of the answer. Where will he go "after" this? Can he stay with you, forever? Will you let him?

"Well, why not?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's brawl."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," you smile at him, flexing your arm. "Don't you forget they've taken your quirk. You're skin and bones."

"Try me!"

[catt-nuevenor]

Modern Setting - Louis and Leila

Extrovert

The neon strips blare as we're thrust from the waiting room to the main arena. People around me are bubbling with excitement, darting into scattered groups that dive into the narrow alleyways and corridors of the plywood cityscape. I think I see a glimpse of Louis/Leila disappear through a cramped crawl space, but before I can confirm the countdown begins, and the venues 'commander' warns with prerecorded hype announces the imminent arrival of our opponents.

Gripping the garish green plastic of my armament, I dart for the nearest promise of cover, and press my back into the hollow plasterboard.

Illusion of danger or not, as the crackling speakers descend through their count of ten, my heart begins to beat against my ribs, my fingers fidget, and my breath climbs higher up my throat.

We're twelve against twelve. Greens versus Pinks. There are team names too needlessly quirky to commit to memory, and technically there are even ranks within those teams, but from experience, none of that matters once the main klaxon sounds.

I wonder if Louis/Leila is as nervous as I am? Are they also crouched alone in the dark, or have they stuck with some of our teammates? Are they excited, scared? Perhaps both. Are they looking for me?

The bottled wail of the klaxon screams through the arena, and somewhere in the distance I hear the beginnings of battle. I press further into the shadows, the scenery grinding in protest but holding. Heavy footsteps thunder through the twilight glow, and a hulking blur of silhouette dashed with bubblegum pink narrowly streaks passed my hiding spot. They're gone before I can act, and despite the loss of potential points, I can't find it in myself to regret my inaction.

"Heads!"

I yelp as a second set of footsteps skids to a halt in front of me, and a cheerful grin lit by the neon lights, curls into a familiar laugh.

"Louis/Leila!"

"Up and at em, Dear! The Pink lot won't take the hit for us!" Their impression of the brutish military general that delivered our health and safety warnings before the match makes me crease in two with laughter.

I take the hand that offered to me, and find myself swiftly yanked up onto my feet.

We lose, but we do so in style.

All throughout the meal that follows, Louis/Leila weaves elaborate tales to tell the others when we get home. Sweeping epics of laser and plastic plating, glittering with all the flair and outright embellishments their mind can conjure. We're both bruised and battered, and the strain of the hour-long match burns in our limbs, but the devilishly unhealthy joy of pizza keeps our spirits high, and by the time we leave the squeaky plastic seats of the takeaway, we're still fizzing.

The rain doesn't start immediately, it wouldn't. No, it waits until we've decided to walk home instead of taking the bus. The first few drops are light, a misting drizzle that makes Louis/Leila's straw blonde hair sparkle. Then it gets heavier.

"B weather!" they grumble, hiking their jacket up over their head, trying in vain to stretch its meagre shelter over me too.

"It's not so bad," I lie, already soaked through to my skin. "And we're not that far from home now."

We duck beneath an archway as the weather worsens.

Dripping from head to toe, Louis/Leila slides out of their jacket and tries to shake the worst of the water away. Finding success in the endeavour, thin though that success might be, they take the tie from their hair and try to shake out their hair.

Mildly dizzy, and only a little dryer, they peer through their messy locks and smirk. "You can say it. I look like a blessed Retriever, don't I?"

I chuckle, lift my hands, and begin to comb my fingers through their hair. "Can't plan for the weather. Maybe if we sneak in the back we can avoid commentary?"

Louis/Leila groans, leaning into my ministrations, and the first phantoms of their brother's snark fills their thoughts. Then they still, their eyes locked upon mine as such concerns drift away.

"Can't plan for the weather," they say, their voice soft as their breath falls across my lips. "Good excuse though."

I find myself drifting away from the cloying damp of my clothes, the ache of the bruises on my legs and arms, even the quiet shadows of the night seem to slip from my grasp. Everything folds itself away neatly, retreating to leave just the two of us.

"Excuse for what?" I ask breathlessly.

"Staying right here with you."

---

Introvert

The doorbell dings, and before I can so much as lift a finger, Louis/Leila is chatting away with whoever it is that has delivered the pizza.

"Eager, aren't they?" Lars quips from behind his coffee mug, earning a swipe from a tea towel Peyton/Peidyn wields like a whip. He ducks the admonishment with ease.

"What have you all got lined up?" I ask, placing my own mug in the sink.

Peyton/Peidyn shrugs. "I'll go with what the other two want."

"Which means it's up to me, Ana/Abe, and your little one, so..." Lars also shrugs. "What ever's our little overlord desires, I guess. You?"

"Louis/Leila's got a plan."

Lars snorts into the cream porcelain and dregs of his coffee.

"May I present the finest, greasiest flatbreads of cheesy goodness this side of regret!"

Louis/Leila sweeps into the kitchen with a flourish, twirling two enormous boxes on the tip of one finger, while a third balances precariously upon their other hand.

Peyton/Peidyn swoops in to rescue the two, sliding them deftly onto two preprepared wire racks upon the counter. "Did you have to make them sound so appealing?"

"Just speaking truth to takeaway," Louis/Leila grins. They turn to me and bow, offering up their free hand like a dashing paramour from a 50's romance. "Dear? Our evening awaits."

Lars groans and mutters several pleas for mercy to an uncaring authority.

I ignore him, and take Louis/Leila's hand.

Up three flights of narrow stairs, passed two doors, and several promises of 'no trespass' from the rest of the house, Louis/Leila and I ascend to our 'nest' and begin our night in.

"Better eat first," they say, placing the box carefully on the table before the TV. "Cold pizza only tastes good in the mornings. Then I've got movies and games, even a few of Lars' board games if you're up for it? He won't notice they're missing till the next game night. Or if you want to just watch what ever's on, we can do that. Or..."

I step up into Louis/Leila's immediate orbit, and gently take their flustered face between my hands.

"Louis/Leila," I say with just the right balance of firmness and sympathy. "Take a deep breath."

They do, and it takes all my willpower not to chuckle as they all but melt into my touch.

"Breathing is good," they say on their third deep breath.

"It is." I smile as the tension falls away from their bony shoulders. "Why so nervous?"

Their bright blush warms my palms. "Well... I mean... It's just me, isn't it? What if you get bored? Or I make an arse of myself? Or the pizza tastes B awful? It's all on me."

I kiss their burning cheek. "It's all on you, and that's a good thing. Because you know what? I like just you, just the way you are, arse, bad pizza, boredom, and all."

---

Image courtesy of Thomas Charters on Unsplash

[lavenoon]

Okay okay, so this ask is completely self-indulgent and also for New Horizons writing...

But I need to know, when Eclipse eventually introduces Neon to his brothers... How would the two of them react to meeting Neon? I can only imagine this would be a planned meeting too, and hopefully done during a time Eclipse's relationship with them is a *bit* better.

So... If you don't mind... May I has details? How might they react/get on? Do you think the boys would like Neon? What's their feelings on them?

i am nervous, good morning

I think by that point they'll have heard enough about Neon to already feel like they know them (at least somewhat). There would be some polite awkwardness - let's imagine it's Sun and Moon coming to visit!

Arriving late in the evening and Moon is trying very hard to not frown at seeing Neon still up and going, not even close to getting to bed. But it's fine, it's fine, he doesn't know their schedule and he's supposed to get to know them now! Would have an easier time slipping into a more comfortable lighthearted conversation, sneaking in little teases and hoping to make Neon laugh by telling embarrassing stories about Eclipse. Just the nice ones! Like how right after getting his body, both Sun and Moon had to often drag him along after he wandered off to follow a butterfly or another insect, late night (low battery) talks of "Why can't we see shrimp colors. We're already animatronics, why did we have to be limited to human adjacent vision?" "The humans haven't figured out how to access shrimp colors yet, Eclipse." "Why?" "???", or how he once got a piece of plastic from a fidget toy stuck in his face plate and unfortunately got stuck with it upside down - wait, he still has the photos somewhere, give him a second -

Will accept embarrassing stories about himself with some grace before just deciding to rag on Sun together, because there are simply so many and Sun isn't here to defend himself and also Moon is a menace. Surprised perhaps by how many stories Neon already knows, but loves to counter them with even funnier bits!

Sun is a little more awkward, simply because he thinks (once again) that things have to be proper, he's meeting his little brother's partner for the first time and has to leave a good impression! Internally screeching at Moon (who dips right back into rest mode) when he learns that his "good first impression" has been ruined by humiliating stories! Gives off slight kicked puppy vibes as he assures Neon he's really not always like that - not even usually! Slightly relieved when Neon doesn't seem too put off, maybe even reassures him that they like him better as a dork. His pride complains a little, but he would accept it on account of "at least they like me". Would help Eclipse with cooking for Neon without being asked, asking about their preferences in passing and if they've tried certain meals - if any answer is "no", he immediately offers to make it for them. He's good at that, and it's a good way to earn brownie points! Will show Eclipse, too, and the screeching of "NOT THAT HOT!!!" or "THAT'S NOT HOW OVENS WORK" is an entertainment show in and of itself

Would also (somewhat petulantly) agree that the perfect revenge on Moon would be to share equally as embarrassing stories, and Neon can rub their little pizza hands together and earn even more blackmail material for their future family <3

Both of them have that nervousness - once they get along better with Eclipse and Neon isn't as defensive about how they treated him (which, while justified, would not be nice bonding) they'd only worry about being liked because they already know Neon from what Eclipse told them, and they like them but what if they don't like the boys?

Neither of them would do well with having their mistakes pointed out to them - they know they messed up with Eclipse, they're trying to do better, but any mention of that would probably make them feel bad and withdraw. Best to leave that off the table during that first visit, even if there'll be some awkward stumbles trying to avoid it - they'll appreciate that, actually. Them not being the only ones fumbling, and not getting reprimanded for something they're already working to fix

There's really no need for Neon to worry - they're good for Eclipse, and Eclipse loves them to bits, so Sun and Moon have already adopted them into the family before they ever meet <3

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

sneak peeks From The Outside and Find A Friend

“How are your ribs? Finally healed up?” the day guard asked his brother. Therese and Enrique listened attentively, curiosity ramped up by the questions. The guard was holding his phone up, angled to point the camera at Sydney’s hands as the older man gestured with them. “That’s good. You’re lucky you only got a little roughed up by that guy. My background check turned up some info on that client,” the guard, Alex as the pizzeria owner said, explained in a lowered voice, “He’s apparently an admirer of your past self. You showing up as Pantera was practically his idea of a gift from on high for his collection.”

Sydney just face-palmed while Vanessa scowled, cheeks puffing indignantly. “He can’t have him! I hold Sydney’s contract, so I’ve got legal on my side!” she huffed. The three fell into silence as a waiter came by and delivered a large pizza and drinks for them.

“Just saying,” Alex picked up the conversation once the waiter was gone, “if you go back out again as Pantera, steer clear of that guy. I doubt he’ll just give up on you now that he’s convinced himself you’re somehow a descendent of yourself. Those eyes of yours are too unique to not have been ‘inherited’.” The brothers cringed at his words while Vanessa just pinched the bridge of her nose.

“This reminds me of how Afton thought my body would be perfect for Emelia just because I had green eyes like her,” she growled, “It’s stupid. These are our lives! Our identities!”

“Welcome to the paranormal dumbfuckery club,” Alex quipped, uncapping his bottle of soda, “Where our eyes get us into trouble and our souls are the ball in a decades-long game of keep-away from some dipshit who couldn’t handle competition in business. Sydney, stop looking guilty; you didn’t start this shit, you got taken advantage of just like the rest of us.”

--------------------

well, Sydney still shares some blame, he's not totally absolved of his part LMAO

lil bit of the outsiders' perspective thing I was playing with. here's also a bit of the Gregory meet Cassie thing too

---------------------

The birthday kid was a girl currently sobbing her eyes out in a corner of the Glamrock Salon in Roxy Raceway. Normally Gregory didn’t have any interest in this part of the Pizzaplex but the party was being held here and it was one of the last scheduled ones before the area would be closed off for renovation. Although calling it a party was being kind, really. Despite all the party favors and goodies for the special day, there was a noticeable lack of other kids celebrating or parents being attentive or concerned with that fact. He stood there with a plate of pizza, chewing on a slice and not really enjoying the cheese and not-meat toppings. How could he, when he could hear the poor kid being miserable just around the corner?

Eventually he just set the plate down, grabbed one of the nice cloth napkins, and took a deep breath before heading over to tend to the birthday kid and introduce himself. A birthday without a single friend to celebrate with was just fucked up and Gregory wasn’t going to let that stand. Something in his soul railed against it, demanded that a lonely kid shedding so many tears needed to be soothed come hell or high water. Well, he’ll just do it so he won’t feel guilty for eating her food. He hated feeling guilty for just trying to survive.

[501aris]

The Divide

Synopsis: There are many things you do not do in this world that is generally accepted as fact. You grow accustomed to pineapple on pizza, you're not just born liking it, you do not approach anyone with a watch blinking red, and you do not hire a(technical) high school dropout to become a teacher. Thankfully, this city also needs an Agent. I'm glad I have experience with both.

Hello! My name is 501ar, and today, you'll be getting a sneak peek to the first section of my new fanfic. The links to the first chapter are:

FF.Net Link

AO3 Link

Now, onto the snippet!

---

I stumble down the street, forest sprawling out on both sides, as I place one foot in between the faded orange lines in the middle of the street before following with the other, my sneakers, originally black but now gray from constant use and wear. My jeans are torn and worn from constant use and my white shirt hides under my body armor and a red flannel hides the armor with a black jacket tied around my waist while lugging a modded M4 in my hands.

If I had the energy to reach back I’d find a Military M870 tied to my Go-Bag and an Officer’s M9A1 tucked into a holster on my thigh. Regardless, I heave breath after breath as I focus on the holographic line on the ground, pointing me to my destination.

Little could describe how fucked I felt, much less how I looked. I managed to move and spot a car, the window intact as I spotted my visage in it and I couldn’t help but flinch.

I see a young man with brown eyes, the barest of orange in them, with his brown hair hidden by a baseball hat with his lower face being hidden by a gas mask and a tattoo of a phoenix on his neck. A few scars pop out from the collar of his shirt and he sighs. “God, I look like a mess.”

There’s a tone before a digital voice pops up. “Warning: Agent heart rate is decreasing.”

“I didn’t notice ISAC.” I mumble out loud, continuing my trek while responding to my AI companion. Or more like any Division Agent’s companion. “It’s not like my handsome visage blocks out the holes in my armor.”

The plate of the armor I wore had holes in them, the small holes numerously applied on my person and I found myself lacking armor kits to replenish the broken plates. So, it wouldn’t be a stretch to believe that a lack of armor means a lack of protection against pieces of shrapnel traveling at you at the speed of sound. Shrapnel that dug into my body worse than my mother on a bad day.

Regardless, I continue inwardly complaining while walking down the street, ignoring the pain and lightheadedness as I grunt. “C’mon, it’s only…” I glance up at the holographic number while squinting. “...Damn it, why’d I leave it in Metric? That number is way too big for it to be meters.”

I huff as I try to speed up but also not bother my injuries.

Honestly, for being the man that managed to reclaim Washington from anarchic gangs, this end is kinda disgraceful. I did not spend around three years hunting down gangsters for fun, damn it!

I didn’t attain a reputation for nothing damn it!

Slowly, with each step comes another memory, a woman, a man, a school, another man, a gun, a corpse, more and more images come to mind as I huff.

“Agent in critical condition.” ISAC speaks as I begin to sway. “Requesting backup.”

“Don’t-Don’t bother.” I mutter towards the AI, my exhaustion playing tricks on me because I know I did not hear a worried tone of voice coming from an AI. “I-I was the only one sent here anyway.”

In a radius of twenty miles, the only person there is me. The rest I slaughtered. Well, slaughter is a term used for things like innocent animals and such. I hunted them down. There’s a better way of putting it.

Before I knew it, I was face down on the tarmac, chuckling as I mutter, “Twenty-one years on this earth and this is how I die? Could be better.”

While the pulses of signals come from my ISAC brick, I drag my exhausted body forward, “Gotta...hide...gear…” I mutter, even if it’s futile since I’ll probably be a skeleton before I’m found again, the gear I’m toting is high-end, from the gloves to my pistol, everything is cleaned, modded, and cared for so it’ll reliably get me through most battles, not to mention all the SHD Tech on my person or the TAC-50 rifle on my back.

Admittedly, not my first choice, but between all the choices offered to me I’ll admit, an anti-material sniper rifle is pretty cool.

Regardless, I drag my Go-Bag off and unholster my pistol, throwing them under a rusted car overtaken by nature as I sigh. “There, now-hm?” I start before turning to the Smart Watch on my side, flashing orange as I sigh. “It all started with you, eh?”

I roll my shoulders, preparing myself as I flop forward and begin dragging myself away from my hidden gear. My eyesight blurring slowly as I flinch at the tiny rocks digging into me while chuckling. “Hopefully, they’ll serve their next user well.”

Finally, after an unknown amount of time, I pass out, heavenly darkness obscuring my sight as I release one last weak chuckle.

On these twenty-one years of my life, four of them have been used in service to the SHD, where I helped keep the peace of my hometown before going to Washington, where I nearly single-handedly wrestled it out of the hands of the Hyenas, the Outcast, and the True Sons, and kicked Black Tusk’s teeth in time after time.

I took down bounty after bounty, hunted down rogues with near religious fervor, racked up a collection of weapons and amassed a reputation by pure word of mouth. I watched Aaron Keener die in front of my eyes after shooting him with enough bullets to supply a small group, killing Faye Lau, and was generally a nuisance to anyone and anything that has been in the way between me and a peaceful life for my family.

And for that goal, I did a lot of things I regret. Maybe I’ll be seen as a murderer in the future, but as long as there’s a time for people to have the capability for people to refer to me as a murderer, then that means I succeeded. At least a cure is in the works and nearly done, so that’s something worth celebrating.

Well, I might not get to see my mom and dad again, but at least they’re proud of me.

…

Honestly, dying by blood loss after nearly being blown up by a claymore sounds like something that’d happen to me.

---

I open my eyes, one eye narrowing and the other wide as two different views invade them, on my left is the blurry figure of what seems to be a waiting room for a corporate office if not far more white. On the other eye are a series of events that seem to have no rhyme or reason.

From my ear, a voice spoke, soft and regretful, “It was all my fault. My decisions and everything they caused.”

Then, the two sights I was seeing began to merge and distort, revealing a woman in a dress pointing a gun at me and then a tablet with bullet holes on it. Neither vision was familiar and that only increased my confusion.

“It had to come to this for me to finally realize that you were right all along…” The voice spoke before I managed to open my eyes in their completion as the sight finally merged into one, revealing a young woman with long hair with a wry smile, “So forgive me for being so bold but I must ask for your help. Agent Vernes. Matt Sensei.”

How does she know those names? I don’t even let other Agents call me Matt, it’s Mateo for all of them.

In the end, I couldn’t speak as this felt like a memory while she continued uninterrupted. “You’ll forget these words, but it won’t matter. Even without your memories, you’ll probably make the same decision in the same situation...” She trails off. “Therefore, I believe what matters most are the choices we make, not the experiences we have. There are choices only you can make.” She emphasized on that as she looked out the window. “I’ve spoken of responsibility before.”

“I didn’t truly understand it then, but now I do. Adulthood, responsibility, obligation… and the choices you make that extend beyond these ideals. I even understand their implications.”

...

I can relate. I was only seventeen when the Dollar Flu forced quarantines everywhere, when my Smart Watch signal activated my status as an SHD Agent, a week before my birthday. I was a day into eighteen when the weight of my responsibility truly weighed on my mind. Do I regret it? No.

Those three years of service as a Division Agent were probably the most productive I’ve ever felt.

“Therefore, Sensei,” she says, interrupting my thoughts, “you’re the only one I can trust. Only you can free us from this twisted, distorted fate and find the choices that will lead us to a new reality.”

“So, Sensei, please…” she trails off, her mouth moving but no sound coming out as the blurry and distorted vision went into the darkness.

I open my eyes, the vision gone as my eyes widen in confusion as I look around. “...What?”

I’m in a clean office, nearly blindingly white with a large window revealing a similar city, a stark contrast to the anarchy-ridden cities of America and all over the world.

---

And here it is. Check out the complete first chapter on FF.Net and AO3. If you like it you can support me on ko-fi but other than that, please enjoy!

[thewritingboi]

Grand Reopening - Chapter 4

Pizza and Rabbits

Dave stood there watching the red-staind water flow off of his purple form and down the drain

"stupied fuckin' symbole crashing freak" Dave muttered to himself "you try to make one music man egg omelet and suddenly it tries to smash  you to bits."

He stepped out of the emergency shower and dried off, muttering to himself all the while. Dave redresed and walked back into the pizzeria spotting Peter fending off music man with a stick.

Dave laughed to himself "Phoney never should have let me talk him into helping me"

He walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a frying pan before walking back. Steven was still at a standstill with the music playing bot as Dave snuck up behind it and brought the pan down onto the thing's head as hard as he could. There was a loud bang as a huge dent formed in the bot's head, it froze for a moment before quickly scurried away.

"that was the stupidest thing you have ever talked me into doing Dave" the phone headed man groand

"That may be true phoney" Dave began as he walked over to a table where he had set down a tray "but at least we got our omelets"

Dave watched as Peter approached, Dave could tell that is he had a face he would be smiling as they grabbed their forks and tried the eggs. He couldn't describe the taste, it was like a normal chicken egg except sweeter.

"this tastes like shit" Dave finally said setting down his plate.

"couldn't have said it better myself" Peter responded grabbing both plates and tossing the food into the trash "well that was... an experience but i have to get back to work, see you later you purple dumbass"

Dave watched as Peter walked towards the security office. The purple man turned around and walked over to the show stage where the animatronics were performing. He watched the robots play their instruments and sing some stupid song about friendship and sharing and whatnot.

Why do these kids always get so excited to see a group of amphomorphic animals sing garbage songs  Dave thought to himself

"At least nobody has tried to yiff the fo-"

He was cut off by a loud crash outside the back door, confused Dave walked over to the door and pushed it open slowly seeing half of a rotten pizza that they threw out yesterday laying on the ground next to the dumpster. Dave slowly looked around the dumpster and caught a glimpse of something moldy green slinking around the corner

"What the hell was that?" Dave whispered to himself, slowly sneaking towards where he saw the thing turn the corner "better not be that harry fucker bigfoot again"

Dave peered around the corner and saw something he never thought he would ever see again, a moldy green rabbit suit that years ago had been his tomb. Not only that but he saw that the creature was dragging the body of what looked like a man with a fire ax stuck in his chest.

"No fuckin' way" Dave said has he begain walking towards a warehouse that the rabbit had just walked into.

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MillerTrap set the dead body on the table the he had set up in the middle of the room. the body wouldn't last long, but Henry would have more than enough time. The moldy rabbit reached its hand into the open wound that was left in the corpse after he removed the ax, he focused and felt as pink bolts of electricity coursed through his arm. MillerTrap yelled in pain as what was left of his vision began to fade and smoke flowed out from both his hand and the body of the man on the table. DaveTrap opened what was left of his eyes as he felt a rush of pain exploded in his head

"Ah fuck" the rabbit muttered in a gravely new york accent as he stood up and wobbled on his unstable legs

"Well hello there w i l l i a m"

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Dave froze in horror behind the crate he was hiding behind and felt his breath catch in his thought after hearing that familiar low voice address his rotting counterpart. Gathering his courage Dave discreetly poked his head out from behind the box and felt heart drop into his stomach, the body of the homeless man was standing straight up with glowing pink eyes and small bolts of pink electricity arcing across his body. Dave saw DaveTrap smile, or at least attempt one before speaking

"It's nice to see you to Henry" Dave almost gasped at hearing his own voice albeit more gravely coming from the decaying rabbit corpse "It was getting a bit cramped in here with your soul crowing up the place"

Henry chuckled lightly at that "please willy, you know I don't have one" He said as he pulled out a box of what looked like spare parts and electronics before beginning to tinker with them "go fetch me another body william, I can not experience any delays when this body decays"

DaveTrap nodded before exiting the warehouse, Dave barely managed to move into a spot where he knew the rabbits maggot eaten eyes would not be able to see him in time before quietly exiting and making his way towards the pizzeria

"going somewhere?" he heard a gravely version of his voice say behind him.

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Hey guys! sorry this chapter took so long to get out, I haven't had any motivation to write for a while. also sorry that this one is a little shorter than the last one, i'm tired and writing is hard. anyways have a great day and

I'll see you on the flipside!

[briamichellewrites]

31

Bria and Mike invited Joe, Phoenix, and Jason to hang out at her place. They were all home from being on the road. Joe didn’t know why he was invited since he felt like the fifth wheel. Was it just to be inclusive? He didn’t want to bother her or Mike by bringing it up. She ordered pizza for them and two liters of soda for them. It was delicious! The animals didn’t know what they were eating, but they wanted it! Woody tried sneaking a piece of pizza, but Phoenix caught him.

Meow! His paws hit the floor. He was not happy about not getting what he wanted. The dogs whined while Buddy licked his lips. Missy got on her hind legs to see if she could get a bite. Nope. Jason told them no. The ingredients would only make them feel sick. Still, they whined and begged. She got up and they followed her into the kitchen.

She gave them some treats. It wasn’t the same but it was better than nothing. Since they were getting a treat, Woody wanted his treat. Phoenix joked that she had three children. It felt like that. They laughed as she came back to the table and continued eating.

For the first time, she was able to use her refrigerator since they had leftovers. She was so excited to finally use her refrigerator!

“Oh my god! Rosita would be so proud of me!”

They laughed when Phoenix called her adorable. They would have gone out for dinner, but they were too tired. Did she know how to use her microwave? She wasn’t sure. They gave her step-by-step instructions. It was super simple. She just needed to take the amount of pizza she wanted from the pizza box, put the slices on a microwave-safe plate, and then microwave it for thirty seconds.

She could call them if she needed help. I think I got it. They laughed. Even though she was privileged, she was also super adorable. She wasn’t stuck up or entitled. They went upstairs to her room. The animals followed behind them. Since coming home, they followed her everywhere to make sure she wasn’t leaving again. She had her suitcase open on her bed because she was in the process of going through it and sorting everything.

She had clothes that probably cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, different pairs of shoes, and hygiene supplies. Shampoo, conditioner, a hair dryer, a hairbrush, a toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, dental floss, a package of single-use facial masks, a container for her medications, makeup, deodorant, facial wash, and a small tub of Vaseline.

“Do I want to know why you have Vaseline”, Joe asked.

“It’s for chapped lips and hands.”

Oh! They laughed. She jokingly told him to get his mind out of the gutter. He was embarrassed because that was not what he was expecting! They teased him a little before moving on. Her clothes went into her closet. She had them washed before packing them up, so they just needed to be hung up or folded. Woody poked his head into the suitcase.

Is anything in there for me? No. It was all human stuff. Jason scratched his head. After everything was sorted away, she put her suitcase into her closet. She would be receiving packages in the mail. What were they? They were just things she bought on tour that were unable to fit into her suitcase. It was just easier to ship them to her house. What did she buy? Wine, mostly but she also bought handbags and shoes. Of course, she did. They laughed.

Mike asked her when Céline and Renè were flying in. They were coming in a week. Were they staying with her? No, she offered but they respectfully declined because they wanted their privacy. She thought that was fair.

She did have an appointment with her therapist in a couple of days. Was it just a routine appointment? Yes, though it was believed she had been misdiagnosed with PTSD. What did she have instead? Complex PTSD. Her therapist thought that she had it because of the multiple traumatic events in her life. She also suspected she had residual trauma from her birth mother.

Which one was more severe? C-PTSD. That diagnosis was for people who had ongoing trauma, as opposed to one event. She had been born with Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome, the death of her parents, and September 11th as her traumas. Her mother had poverty, childhood abuse – physical and mental by her alcoholic father, and domestic violence by her boyfriend. He physically and sexually abused her while under the influence of drugs.

What happened to her on September 11th? Jason knew about the attacks, but how did they affect her? Mike asked her if she was okay to talk about it. Yes, she could.

“I was in New York on September eleventh. I was in town to put my family’s apartment on the market, so I was staying at the World Trade Center Hotel. I was asleep when the first plane hit. It woke me up. The hotel manager knocked on my door, so I threw on a pair of pants. He told me that the hotel was being evacuated. I packed everything into my suitcase before going out to the street.”

Debris and dust were falling everywhere. She looked up and saw a huge hole in the first tower. It was on fire with smoke coming out. She was so transfixed that she couldn’t move. People were bleeding, screaming, crying, and running away. But, she couldn’t move because she was frozen. A guy grabbed her and told her to run, so she did. She ran until she got to a safe place. Eventually, she got down to the ferries where she was able to get passage to New Jersey.

“That’s the only way I can describe what happened because multiple things were going on at the same time. There were police, firefighters, ambulances. They were running to the towers while we were running away from them. I called my friends, Jon and Dorothea. He drove up and picked me up. I stayed with them until I could fly home.”

That would be extremely traumatic. How was flying? It was hard. She had to distract herself by listening to music. Her therapist also prescribed her medication to help her with her anxiety. The reason why she got evaluated was because she was having trouble sleeping. She was taking melatonin for that because she couldn’t be given sleep medication. Why not? There was a possibility of her becoming addicted, especially since she had the genetics for addiction.

The melatonin worked wonders! She slept like a baby… or a dog. What about a cat? They didn’t actually sleep like humans did because their ears were always active. So, a part of them was still awake. It was part of their instincts. Because of danger, they had to be ready to get up and move. Dogs went into full REM sleep, like humans.

“The vet told me that. I thought it was interesting.”

“So, a dog sleeps like a baby. Except they don’t wake up every few hours crying”, Phoenix said.

That would be fucking creepy if they started crying like babies. They laughed. She told them another fact. When cats wanted attention, their meow resembled a baby’s cry. Humans were more likely to respond to them because of their instincts to take care of babies. Even if they just wanted food at six in the morning. They laughed.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[easton-m]

@korraxnazari | Setting: Easton's apartment | Local Time: 21:57

"Nah. Because." Easton points at her, a slice of pizza in his hand that he uses as an arrow, "I still remember the way you basically dragged me into that corner shop and sneaked me out through the back door. How could I ever forget that? Wait, actually..." He puts the piece of pizza back down on his plate and disappears in the bathroom to wash his hands, before there's silent noises of him rummaging around in his closet.

He returns to the living room and the couch they were sitting on, now the baseball cap on his head, the one that belonged to Korra's university's football team. "And I still look hot wearing it. Weren't it for you and the press got pictures of me with a vodka bottle at like 19, or 20, my career would have been over before it even started."

He'd asked his old friend from college over for a pizza (on him), and some beer (on her), feeling like it was a good day to meet up with her again. "I really do miss college sometimes."