#maybe I should swing by Walmart too

[miss-floral-thief]

Teapot not being used since mold

Put maybe I can put in two bags and boil it

[alexlwrites]

Friday, Diner Day - 2052

There was this old couple in the corner of the room, sitting on those high red vinyl stools, both short enough to swing their feet above the ground, the man’s a little lower. They’re both giggling like highschoolers and people couldn’t help but look fondly at them.

Sitting beside them was a young woman, her chin resting on her folded hands, cheeks flushed from laughter. She hung from every word the couple said, eyes full of stars and wishful daydreams.

“So, how did you two meet?” she asked and the older gentleman smiled crookedly, slanted eyes full of mirth.

“Funny story, really” the old lady laughed “Richard here was in a motorcycle gang and I needed a quick escape from the police.”

“Betty was fistfighting transphobes that got in the way of a march for trans rights. She jumped onto the back of my bike and yelled ‘run, I’ve got priors!’”

“I shoplifted a lot” Betty nodded, quickly adding “only from big corporations, of course!”

“She stole our first anniversary gift” Richard placed his hand on top of hers, matching wedding bands reflecting light on their ring fingers “She’s very sentimental.”

There was a horrified yet endeared look on the young woman’s face, misplaced admiration for the lasting love of those elderly ex-delinquents.

Love can really be found in the strangest of places, she mused, maybe I should join a gang.

***

“A motorcycle gang, Y/N, really?”

Friday was laundry day of the week, meaning you and Yoongi wore your weirdest, most mismatched clothes while folding shirts, the smell of his favorite fabric softener covering the room, sticking to the clean sheets.

“You would look good in one of those leather jackets. Also, being in a boy band is not that different from being in a gang”.

Yoongi threw an unknown piece of clothing at you “How would you know?”

“Well, I’ll have you know, Richard, that I used to be a prolific criminal in my day. The TV in the living room? Stole it.”

“From Walmart?”

“From Hybe.”

Yoongi’s giggles and gummy smiles still managed to fill your heart with a funny and unsettling sort of warmth even after decades of being exposed to it. You would never get used to it, never be impermeable or numb to his happiness as it was directly correlated to your own. Every loud laughter you managed to get out of him was a victory and you had been keeping score for thirty years.

Friday, Diner Day - 2022

Diner day was the best day of the week, Yoongi thought. Every possible Friday was spent with his best friends in the back of a poorly lit restaurant they found when they had very little money and way too many dreams. The whole place smelled of grease and sugar, but to him the sweetest thing was always behind the counter.

As usual, Yoongi excused himself from the table only minutes after arriving, leaving behind his hollering friends and walked over to you. You had flour on your head and icing covering your hands, hair pulled into a half-fallen bun with a single pencil running through it. That day, you wore about 3 thousand beaded bracelets and high tops, each foot clad in a different colored one.

“Yoongi” you greeted him cheerfully, pretty rosy lips stretched in a grin “You are back!”

Missed me?, he wanted to ask, but even after knowing you for so long he was still too shy, too unsure. His quiet way of pinning was annoying, sometimes impossibly painful to watch, but there was still some sort of comfort in keeping his cards close to his chest, safety in all the words he didn’t say.

“Uh, yes” he mumbled, voice soft and shy “Got back a few days ago. Thought I’d stop by.”

“That’s nice of you, we all really missed you here.”

Yoongi glanced at the rest of the staff in disbelief: a teenage girl chewing gum that looked like she would rather be anywhere else, half waitering and half bullying the clients; a middle-aged cook that spoke very broken korean and only ever answered anyone with a grimace and a college boy that Yoongi had never ever seen sober. “You all did?”

You shrugged, the picture of nonchalance except for your now bright red ears “Well, I did. It’s not the same without you here on fridays.”

Yoongi’s heart always came alive when you talked to him, but some days, the days when your kindness dripped out of every words and your casual compliments got to him, on those days his heart became an Olympic athlete and tried to jump out of his chest, following his barely working brain down the street, running away from his flustered, sweaty and non-responsive body.

“Ah,,,” he said smartly, right hand flying to rub the back of his neck. C’mon, Yoongi, he thought, you can say something nice to the girl you like “I missed you too” he forced the words out, smile bordering on a grimace.

“You’re just saying that cause I serve you food” there was a light blush hanging high on your cheeks now, bringing even more warmth to your completion and the sight made hope bloom in Yoongi’s chest.

Cause if he could cause that sort of reaction on you (you, who he once saw dump hot coffee on a guy’s lap for harassing the other waitress and yell at client for making fun of the cook’s accent) then maybe he had a shot. Maybe he could find a way to work around the impending doom cloud that loomed over him due to his celebrity status and just ask you out. Just a normal-ish guy with a crush on an extraordinary-ish girl.

[bingoboingobongo]

task force 141 + home decorations

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, John Price

Warnings: mentions of the dismal housing market

A/N: should probably be studying for physics but GAHDHDHHSHS thanks so much to everyone for ur kind messages im feeling so much better

kyle "gaz" garrick:

ok so i know i said these were home decorations

but guys let's be real

u really think gaz has a house?

in this economy?

nah

he's got a nice apartment in london tho

he rents it out when he's on missions

but even though he has no house he still decorates the inside

plus the building always sets up lights along the roof and sidewalks

but enough dilly dallying onto gaz fr now

as we've established he's a bit of a nerd so he likes finding christmas versions of figurines and putting them around his place

if he can't find one he'll just smack a santa hat or elf ears on it and call it a day

he also keeps an elf on the shelf hidden around his apartment in case his younger siblings ever swing by

he'll set up string lights along the mantle

but since he has so much color from all the figurines he prefers a solid color light like white or maybe blue or if he's feeling crazy

he gets the biggest tree that can fit in his apartment which is still pretty small unfortunately

but he decks it out with all kinds of nerdy ornaments and figurines

his family also makes ornaments together every year so a lot of his ornaments are from that

if it's not feeling too cramped he'll put in tinsel and banners

but he likes to keep it at least a little classy

he doesn't want it to look like christmas vomited all over his house

john "soap" mactavish:

soap does want it to look like christmas vomited all over his house

im not gonna lie i can't tell if soap has a house or an apartment

on one hand i just feel like a house would be more reasonable at his age

but on the other hand idk if soap's mature enough to have a house

actually imma be fr idek how old soap is

but i could see him inheriting a nice house from his family

yeah let's go with that

he loves to go ham with christmas decorations

the outside always has all kinds of colorful lights lining the sidewalk, roof, and fence

and yes they're multicolored and flash on and off

he has the icicle lights for his fence because he thinks they look cool

and he has a bunch of inflatables of santa, the reindeer, the presents, etc.

onto the inside

pretty much the same as the outside ngl

lots of lights along the stairs and the walls

tinsel, banners, wreaths galore

and ofc he gets the biggest tree that will fit in his house

and he loves real trees

and then he decorates that with all kinds of ornaments

half of them are sentimental half of them he bought at walmart

he also has the candy cane lights down his sidewalk idk why i feel the need to add that but i do

simon "ghost" riley:

ok so ghost's decorations surprisingly do exist

it's not so much that it makes him feel festive

but when he was a kid he loved walking down the street and seeing all the lights so he decorates his house so that another kid can have that feeling

he likes the classic look of white string lights all around

so he'll just line his roof and sidewalks with that

but other than that that's about it for the inside

the inside is pretty sad too im ngl

he has a tiny little christmas tree tho

it's not big enough to put any presents under

but gaz always gifts him ornaments so he hangs those up along with a tiny star

it's pretty sweet ngl

tbh ghost's entire house is usually really empty

part of it's bc he just moved out from an apartment bc it was getting annoying having to pay rent when he wasn't even there

lord knows he's too paranoid to sublet

and another part is just that he really has nothing much to put in his house

so it's like overwhelmingly empty except that one spot with the tree

john price:

ok so i feel like price definitely lives in a cabin in the wilderness

what can i say he's living his 'little house on the prairie' dreams

except it's not a prairie but u get the idea

so he doesn't really decorate the outside because he doesn't want to draw attention and besides it's not like anyone will see

but on the inside it's nice and quant and christmasy

he has the fireplace on like 24/7

and he lines the mantle with christmas lights and tinsel

he likes to put sprigs of holly around his house because he thinks they're pretty

and of course you know he cuts down his own christmas tree

he doesn't line it with ornaments tho because after christmas he chops it up for firewood and it's too much of a hassle in his opinion

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

okay it shouldn't be a surprise that rudy loves decorating

honestly in a weird way i can see him still living with his family

but not in a like discord mod way in a "he loves his family so much" kind of way

plus it's just financially stable let's be real

again having a house in this economy?

idk man

actually no i lied im a liar

rudy has his own apartment but he returns home for christmas

anyways he always helps his family decorate

they put up lights along the outside of the house

and ofc they have a fake tree they put up too

i think rudy and his family always make a wreath together every year to hang on their door

idek if that's a tradition but i like it

actually i feel like rudy's parents would be pretty religious

so they definitely have a nativity scene along the mantle or something

and rudy simultaneously gives younger and older sibling energy

so i have a solution

i feel rudy grew up with an older brother and sister

and so they both had kids so now rudy has a bunch of nieces and nephews

and he loves them more than anything

and so there's so many stockings on the mantle

alejandro vargas:

alejandro's decorating style is actually more similar to ghost's i think

he really likes the classy look of white lights

so like ghost he goes for a bright white exterior

but he brings some soul into the exterior

alejandro actually prefers fake trees

he doesn't like the way real trees shed

plus it's just a hassle to take care of in his opinion

he has a lot of ornaments from rudy's family

and a lot of ornaments from target or something equivalent

he also spends a lot of time making sure that the tree is decorated as aesthetically pleasing as possible

oh yeah and ofc alejandro has a house

he is the king of making smart financial decisions

even in this economy

he likes using holly, mistletoe, honestly all the christmas plants in his house

and pine cones?

don't even get him started man

he lives for those things it's insane

you could be chilling at his house in august and find a pine cone left behind from christmas

[quinnharperwrites]

FIND THE WORD TAG

Thank you @digital-chance for the tag.

(LOW-KEY I feel like I've done this exact list. BUT I LOVE THEM TOO MUCH TO STOP PLS TAG ME)

These are taken from The Isles of Blirrosia.

slid (HELP I didn't have slip)

The doors slid open, interrupting her train of thought.

trapffic (traffic)

She sat on the edge of the roof of an office building, her feet swinging in excitement over the bustling rush hour traffic.

great NOPE good

“We could make a pretty good team, Saffronator, don’t you think?”

maybe (something tells me I used this line before, but idrk BC AT LEAST I GOT ONE YAYYAYAYAY!)

“Maybe we should try to get him to be used as practice at your university.”

I am very, very sorry for giving you the walmart version for 3/4 of the list. BC of that, let's reuse the same words!

Gently tagging: @abalonetea, @anonymousfoz, @arijensineink, @sugar-phoenix, and anyone else who wants to join! Please tag me if you do, so that I can see it.

[moonfurthetemmie]

I feel like i gotta add ‘DS verses’ in the title for all of these but i really am just completely out of titles. (10)

No content warnings, except that there is Walmart

Previous

“That should do for now,” Pluto huffed, standing up straight. 

“We should’ve just broken into someone’s house and taken over,” Slash grunted.

“Slash,” Byte warned.

“I know, I know. It just would’ve been easier, is all I’m saying.” Slash gave the heavy ivy one last tug, and a whole wall of it came down on top of her. “Bitch-“

Pluto and Byte snickered, watching her summon her sword and hack at the thick tangle of vines that had so rudely attacked her. 

They’d found an old, old tree house, in the middle of nowhere, and decided it was their new house. Byte had been using her strings and some sticks to repair—or at the very least, shore up—the supports, floor, and ladder. Pluto was in charge of cleaning out the inside; clearing dirt and dust, making sure there weren’t any critters or creatures, so on. The ivy was creeping in through the windows, and that wasn’t so hard to deal with, but it was also all over the walls and the tree, and it was very resistant to Pluto’s attempts to pry it off.

Instead he asked Slash, being the objectively strongest of the three, to deal with it instead, and he’d help Byte when he was done picking up inside. 

It was looking pretty nice, so far. Empty, yes, but certainly livable for a period of time.

“I’m going to burn down this whole damn forest,” Slash growled. “This fucking ivy-“

“You sure showed it who’s boss,” Byte snickered. “Cmon, there’s only a little left. I’ll help.”

Pluto carefully climbed back inside the treehouse, while they were doing that. There was a good amount of room in there. They’d have plenty of room, especially if they rolled up their sleeping bags when they weren’t using them. …Ah, they needed sleeping bags. They didn’t have any, having been teleported to another multiverse very suddenly. 

They’d need some other things too, he mused. Lights, something for food, maybe some chairs if they wanted to hang out and not sit on the floor…

“Hey, guys, what do you think of putting string lights in here?” He called. “Maybe ones with funky shapes.”

“Where are we going to plug those in?” Slash yelled back, ripping off some ivy. 

“We get battery powered ones, dumbass,” Pluto said.

“Do they even-“ Cross huffed. “Ok, I need a break—do they even make battery-powered string lights?”

“Come join me in the tree castle. And yes, they do. I’ve seen them.”

Slash climbed up to the treehouse, and sat in the corner. “Man, I wish we had chairs.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that too,” Pluto drummed his fingers against the window frame. “Maybe we could get folding chairs?”

Slash hummed. “That would work. Not sure I trust the floor with anything heavier.”

“Let’s go shopping, then,” Byte said, climbing in after her. “We need to get a bunch of stuff anyways, and now’s a good time to take a break from the hard stuff. We can get a cooler and drinks while we’re out.”

“And dinner!” 

Byte cracked a smile. “And dinner.”

Slash and Pluto cheered. The three of them grabbed what few disguise items they had, and did their best to find a Walmart. It was harder than usual, as they weren’t familiar with this new multiverse, but they only had to portal hop a few times. Once they did finally get there, Byte pulled out her phone. 

“Alright, I’m sending you guys a list of stuff. I’ll grab stuff from the craft section. Pluto, you grab the stuff from the camping aisle. Slash, you’re on drink duty.”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Call me ma’am again, I dare you.”

Pluto checked over his part of the list again. He got the sleeping bags, a back-up lamp, camping chairs, and some blankets. He was about to swing over to the home improvement section for pillows, because they weren’t going to sleep on a hard wooden floor without pillows, when his phone buzzed. Slash was texting the group chat.

The Bimbo(TM): yk it occurs 2 me that we have no idea how long we’re going 2 b here

The Bimbo(TM): n we brought literally nothing from home bc of how we got dropped here

The Bimbo(TM): so uhhhhh. maybe we should get period supplies

Hard Drive: O shit good point 

Hard Drive: Who’s closest to the health and beauty part of the store???

Pluto: im just passing it

Pluto: i was on my way to get pillows 

The Bimbo(TM): Would u mind?

Pluto: nah i got chu

Detour time! Pluto swung his cart around, and down the toothpaste aisle he went, looking for where the hell this Walmart keeps their pads and stuff. Ah, he should probably get some ibuprofen or something, too. Slash gets really grouchy when she has bad cramps. Byte too, sometimes, but Slash especially.

Fortunately, the important stuff Pluto needed was very easy to spot on the wall. Even more fortunate, the few people who were there didn’t look like they’d be bitchy about him being there. The ones who noticed him just ignored him. Some of them were uneasy, but he figured it was just because they didn’t want to be, like, perceived there, especially by a dude. They certainly hadn’t recognized him. 

He ignored them all, too, and tried to remember what Slash and Byte had wanted the last time he had to get supplies for them. Slash used tampons, right…? Or was that Byte? Or did they both use…

…Nope, he didn’t remember at all. Well, whatever; he’d just get some of each. 

As he was putting stuff in his cart, a familiar voice behind him said, “What the hell are you doing here?”

He turned, a box of tampons in his hands. “…Is this a trick question? What are you doing here?”

Ink snorted. “I meant in Walmart, dumbass.” She lowered her voice, glancing at the other people in the aisle, most of which were snickering at Pluto’s comment. “Aren’t you supposed to be staying hidden?”

Pluto scoffed, tossing the box in his cart. “We are. I’m wearing my nice contacts, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He paused. “…Wait, how did you recognize me with my hood up?”

Ink shrugged, reaching past him with her tattooed hand to grab something off the shelves to put in her own cart. Which was full of food. Enough for two people, or one for several weeks. Odd. 

“I don’t know. Dirty purple jacket, shittiest posture I’ve ever seen in my life, moves like a hunting tiger. It was either you or that other guy.”

Pluto folded his arms. “Are you trying to say I walk like a pussy?”

“No, you just are a pussy.”

Pluto’s eye twitched. It took a lot of self control not to threaten to stab her. Even if it was a joke (this time), now was really not the place or time. She grinned at him, like she knew exactly what he was thinking. 

“You’re lucky there’s people around,” he muttered.

“Sure, grape boy.” She checked her phone, then glanced at his cart. “I gotta get going, I have shit to do. Have fun with your…camping trip.” 

“Eat my ass, Stapler Lady.”

Ink’s head jerked to the side, but Pluto was already on his way to find the pain medicine. 

[flagellant]

[Image Description: A photo of a grilled cheese with herb flakes. End ID]

Innes Keeper's Formula For Fantastic Grilled Cheeses

(for nearly no extra spoons!)

Are you hungry? Do you have a hankering for grilled cheese sandwiches like, way more than a normal person maybe? Great news! I am about to give you the secret knowledge I stole, like Prometheus himself, from the Akashic Records—to bring back to Prudencia! And I’m even doing it without a ten hour long lecture about how the Akashic Records makes me think of idfk, 9/11, and how that relates to sandwiches.

I will, however, briefly say this: You gotta trust me when I say cooking grilled cheeses via this formula WILL grant you Bloodborne Insight. There is no fucking reason that making a grilled cheese this fucking delicious should be this fucking easy. I feel like I’m cheating God every time I do it because it takes (nearly) no extra spoons. And here’s where I show you why.

Scientifically Proven Perfect Extremely Easy Grilled Cheese

INGREDIENTS — SEASONINGS

-butter, i usually use 2 or 3 tablespoons per sandwich

-garlic cloves, I use 3 usually

-a source of heat, like red pepper flakes, or szechuan peppers

-a source of spice OR a source of sweetness, such as dijon mustard or honey. slather that motherfucker on a slice of your bread.

-a source of herbiness, such as oregano, thyme, sage, rosemary, etc in any combination that goes well together or on its own. if someone tries to tell you that you need it fresh, they’re fucking lying, the 2$ crushed powdered sage is fucking great. experiment with other spices such as ground turmeric if you're spicy

INGREDIENTS - THE METAPHORICAL MEAT OF THE SANDWICH

-two slices of bread per sandwich. this is actually a massive influence on your sandwich taste and texture as a whole. a basic white or wheat will still be fucking delicious because like I said, I stole this from the Akashic Records cookbook section and found it under “fucking perfect grilled cheeses forever”. However, if you CAN—getting bread like brioche, texas toast, brown bread, rye, or sourdough will make a sandwich already being elevated super easily to “pay 23 dollars at a fancy restaurant” level of elevation.

-one to three types of cheese per sandwich. you can get away with one type but really try for two or three if you can swing it.

this is also one of those massive influences over the sandwich—listen, i know, that’s obvious, but stay with me—what matters

isn’t the SPECIES of cheese, it’s the TYPE of cheese. getting the deli at your local Safeway or Walmart or whatever and asking for the cheese they gotta cut (or just in general the fancier, better-quality cheeses) is literally the only major requirement that I ask of you. If you are on SNAP/EBT programs, me too, and I promise you: Please do this. Please trust me when I say do not get the cheap Kraft-type cheese because it’s less money. I know it’s a bit extra but it’s only a bit to get like 1/4 or 1/3lb and you have no idea how much I’m actually getting a little emotional about this, because the “rice with butter and beans or top ramen every single day” life is soulsucking and sickening and it is genuinely one of the greatest sources of suffering

to human beings I can imagine, I’m serious. Following this formula will genuinely change your life/mental health just a bit because you know that you have one meal that is super delicious, super filling, pretty damn cheap when it comes to how much you get, and super easy to make on days where the idea of doing more than just 15 minutes MAX is gonna make you wanna die.

super sorry for that paragraph btw i just really cannot overstate how this is a lifechanger especially when youre poor/low spoons/depressed. delicious food makes me not be as depressed. this is that.

METHOD

Take garlic cloves and crush them either with the meat of your palm or the flat of a knife or literally anything that would crush good. Take bread slices and put a source of spice or sweetness if you are using one. take a pan and put it on the stove on low-medium heat (aka a 2 out of 10).

Place the butter in the pan, as well as the garlic cloves, the source of heat, and the source of herbiness. Congratulations you have now literally done ALL the extra effort that you need to make a grilled cheese like this. That’s it. No extra dishes. No fussing with amounts or chopping or whatever. That’s it.

The butter will melt in the pan and soak up the delicious ingredients that you also put into the pan. Take each slice of bread and place it in the pan to butter it, OR just take one slice, place the cheese on it, and then put the other bread on. It’s really just a matter of extra effort.

When the bread is in the pan, turn it up to medium heat (5 out of 10) and just sorta let it sit for a bit. When you can see the cheese start to get visibly melty—or when you vibecheck it—flip it once and just do the same thing.

When you’ve grilled your cheese on both sides, take it out of the pan and put it on a plate (or just a paper towel to save on dish spoons. btw paper plates and plastic utensils are a fucking godsend if you hate dishes and/or can’t do them very easily/takes a lot of effort.)

That’s literally it. I really hope this helps.

kill the shift manager in your brain

[humongousabysmal]

Ok 8 billion people is crazy to think about because i can be thinking something about something about someone and someone else is thinking the same exact thought as you at that current very moment, google a random thought you have ever had maybe it’s so random and quirky only one other person has ever posted about it online before you maybe will plan to, that means many people probably thought that same thing but never posted it, maybe that thought spans back to ancient time like 1 bc particle of air thinking “I really wanna go eat some chicken dumplings and potato wedges rn with gumby and darwin”, you will never think something somebody else hasn’t already thought before. Idk about the first guy who ever existed though they probably thought every single thought a human could ever have before anybody else did because ethey wwre the only one, so no you will never have an original thought, sorry . Back to 8 billion people. Maybe we should only have like 1 million. I think 1 million is good or 1 billion. Okay wait 1 billion max and everything else is extinguished somehow like every drop of sperm magically goes into thin air sorry no more babies we’ve reached max capacity. 1 billion and we will drink all the sea salt water until we reach the core of the earth so we can fill all the trenches with dirt and trash to create makeshift dirt so we can have more plots of land to put our Walmarts and cracker barrels where we all we serve is sea salt because we have too much left over :/

My plan is to have an earth 80% land and 16% sea 4% Brian okay we can have water but I don’t want it like everywhere you know lol we still need to travel and make stufff accessible, or maybe let’s have a complete 5050 earth right down the middle? Like this

So we can have reconstructed pangaea and australia and britian and china whatever else on one side oh you wanna go swim? Walk 100 miles left :) hmm well I don’t wana walk 100 miles that’s inefficient and the border between th eland and water will most likely be overcrowded, so how about quadrants

So people can still reach water at a good destination. I think this is the best earth template. We can have one of those little tables like the ones in the middle of pizza in the middle of the earth and we can have fiestas there, lemonade and wings and swings and idk. Well that’s got me thinking, what about we have a complete food section of the earth. Well actually no let’s just make all the trees food. Like lucky blocks u don’t know what ur gonna get. That’d be funny lol

[mysticmannor]

Thursday, October 19, 2023

I’m at walmart with my mother. Walmart has rentable storage lockers in my dream, and you have to buy a certain amount of things to qualify to get one. I end up buying some guys stuff that he abandoned at the register, tossing back the frozen stuff that I can’t keep. Also there’s lottery tickets that I didn’t really want to buy but did anyway.

We get a fruit juice and head out to the storage lot, mom leaves somewhere in the car and I am nosing around in the biggest storage locker I’ve ever seen. I have lots of boxes and a big bed in it. There is a turn in the space, L shaped. the bed is not pressed against the wall, it’s laid up on the frame and the frame has made a hallway of sorts on the far back wall unseeable from the front of the storage room.

I’m piddling as a man walks into the space, he is threatening but I don’t understand why. He’s speaking slowly and calm. I am too but realize the situation is about to escalate. I can’t recall the words exchanged exactly.

He slides onto the bed, a gun in hand resting on the back of the bed frame, pointed at me in the makeshift hallway. I get closer to the pistol’s barrel and say “You’re not going to shoot me, you won’t get what you want.” He doesn’t flinch, speak or show any expression.

He pulls the chamber back. It holds, “you want to bet lady?” he says. “I guess I’m the gambling type today.” I fire back. He drops the chamber and cocks the gun again. I realize there’s no bullets in it now, he flounders to get it to hold this time.

I grab the pistol in my right hand, swinging my body over the left of the bed frame weight on his wrist. I grab the gun and dismantle it as he jumps up. I toss it on the ground in his direction, now to the right of the bed and in the view of the opening of the roll top door.

Before I can fully register it, he’s jumped on me and we are tussling. I pat my jeans looking for my handy knife, rolling over and over the floor he doesn’t see it. I pull his hurt right wrist back pinning him face down. His left arm underneath my crouched left leg, my right supporting his spine.

Instinctively I snatch his head by a fistful of hair in my left fist, releasing his poorly busted right arm I pop my switchblade out of my waistline. He’s cussing in an ugly language. Russian, German? Not sure, but you can tell it’s curses. I swiftly slice the meat of his neck as if it were a chicken breast in the walmart next door.

Gargling, my left fist pulls his wound deeper as his neck is forced backwards. His gasping slowing, I tell myself here as I’m breathing for the time time in minutes that I won’t look at his face. I try to think how this looks, why he was after me. I wonder if someone’s knew where he was.

I sit behind the bed frame, finding a flip. I know it will call 911 even without service. Should I call? It was self defense. Would they believe me? His dead body excreting fluid all over my storage room, I’ll lose the deposit. I spring up to haul his body outside the next door. I roll him over so that maybe most the blood would soak up in his clothes and not the pavement. I didn’t look at his face.

I go back to my safe space in the makeshift hall. I’m thinking do I call? Do I run? They’ll find security footage of me at walmart, in the storage lot at the time of death. They’ll find forensics all over the room. If I get caught up in the system, I’ll be busted for much more than a self defense case. As I’m thinking the options over, I hear someone rush my decisiveness.

A woman hollers outside, explaining the man is in a real bad way. Someone else is with her, I can barely see her head peering over the man in the far right view of the open door. Shit. No doubt now, I’m fucked. I quietly and quickly grab my go bag, in the chaos of them calling the cops from their car I escape to the main road.

The sun has gone down, and the sky is gray in color. I walk down the main road as cooling as possible, not looking into the oncoming traffic until nightfall. When it is pitch black, I start looking into backyards of the homes on the way of the road. I find a pretty one with a decent wooden gate. There’s a nice seating area around a long forgotten fire pit.

I climb over and rest a while. As the morning comes, the grayness returns in the skies. I walk over to a corner store that is not open yet. Across the lot of the gas station, a group of grungy people lay across large boulder rocks on blankets. Homeless, drug addicted and runaways chain smoking and drifting, I would blend in. I make my over and pull out a half smoked spliff, offering the group as they made room on the rock for me.

We waited for the store to open, all gathered supplies for the day and I borrowed a phone to reach out to a friend. She came to pick me up, and I showered at her place. I didn’t tell her anything, or her military husband. I took a spare bed or theirs. Recollecting my things, finally feeling like I could think a moment… the flip phone rings.

[mylawcitrus]

What keeps me up at night

I wonder if Courtney's found a good lover

Who's not inked all around his body

Or maybe a gentle woman

To take care of the boy, but I forgot his name

And I sure wish she stays away from heavy drugs

And finds a good place to live, you know

And I hope that Suzan's forgiving

I hope she gets horny but I know I can't be asking

The dynamics are not even up to me

And now there's this story with the Nepalese

Plus some dude who lives in a luxury building

But the Brits are aware

And so is Lanta, who I can't even start with

Because look at how much she teased me

For nothing

And Shelby doesn't even exist

Said "hi" again on kik, didn't even remember who the hell I was

But I don't worry about Mandi, she's well off

And I'm sure Johannah's been having

the time of her life

But I don't know about Alva

And yeah, she was nice

Athena's safe, I suppose

Regards to the daddy

And I just know the pets are given love

But I kinda wish I was her dog, for real

Which makes me wanna say "on a second thought"

However absurd this may be to anyone

Who saw the way we connected

And here we go again, with another list

Right, focused girl?

No mothers this time, I learned my lesson

It's all about honey yogurt, but remember Dawn?

And we have a whole set

We had Alice, and I mean "we"

Although this is not a pronoun, said the divorcee

Maybe I should be looking at my neighbor

Who swings her clothes when she's on vacation

I never understood that, or her

And the red and her uncle, all the jokes

That I fucking endured

And keep surviving

Until I remember that Kirby is a government official

And the most famous singer in the world looks like my ex

But that doesn't matter for the makers of Toxicity

Imagine Carina

And Scarlett, not the actress, the singer

Imagine the milk drinking girl who's on top of Billboard

Watching how much things can make sense for

Because we're supposed to get over sorrow and grief

Life is beautiful

When people don't compare you to property

While African men want to watch you cum for the police

And pretend

It was for Peggy, who surprisingly isn't fucking Draper

And people have opinions

They say Hail Mary

And Walmart makes how many billions, again?

Alex is tired, Fantano knows

But this shit blows, move over to Substack

Wait, no, the payments come from white supremacists

Said the newest blogger in chief

But we don't know if that was Chat-GPT

Or a joke because of the stripes in her shirt

And Jack, who's not the CEO who kicked me

But Rachael's man

Who never knew a black dildo would make me laugh

So honestly

And who's my girl, after all?

Nyny, Riri, these chicks? Hate me

And if I want chaos, try adding or some shit

But they're saying I can come here

And be like "what's up, talk to this son of a bitch"

And they're like "your mom's amazing, stop"

Summer's knocking in 5 seconds

Disney princesses will make it to elections

But they talk about the military

Cause it's funny

To compare a little boy controlling plastic

In the year of 1999

With everything that happened after that terrible event

That I watched in horror

But wanted to use as a way to set policy

Because my amount of stress matters too

Contrary to popular belief

And so we have Oliver

And we have the Fantastic Four

One more pun and it's tactical on your ass

But I'm the one who's corrupt

[redorich]

What if Tommy and a few other Hermits went to the Dream SMP to take care of some business (aka Dreamon + small family reunion for Tommy) and they see Tommy hug these two PvP gods as a ghost floats around them saying, “oh Tommy! You’ve been gone so long! Where did you go?” And seeming quite happy as well. The hermits get to see just how fucked this place is. Tommy told them Techno is by far the richest person on the server yet he only has one stack of diamond blocks. Not a single shulker box to be seen. Phil tells them The End is Off Limits. They get to see the main hub of this world is less impressive than a single of their big builds. They see fighting in the streets. From the other side of walls they hear people threatening eachother. They get to see and experience the comparative hell that Tommy cane from -🐍

Scar’s the one that gets to go first. He and Grian jockey for the privilege, but in the end Scar is the mayor of Hermitcraft, which means he gets to visit the Dream SMP first. (Grian pouts for days.)

Scar wears his very nice mayor sash, and irons his trousers, and keeps his armor in his inventory so that everyone can see his nice apparel. He smiles, and opens his eyes to what is basically a pit. The ground is more creeper-hole than actual ground, and there are mishmash walls all around him. His smile falters.

<Dream> Oh shit hes at spawn

<Technoblade> dream forgot to change visitor spawn, worst admin ever

<Dream> Shut up

Tubbo hit the ground too hard

<Technoblade> TUBBO IS GONE CRABRAVE

<ItsFundy> canon death

<Tubbo> NO

“Hey there,” Tubbo says from behind Scar. The mayor yelps, whirling around and nearly falling on his face.

“Sorry to scare you,” Tubbo laughs, “but how about I show you around? After I get my stuff back, that is.”

“Y-yeah,” Scar says, visibly perturbed. Tubbo leads him through a hole in the wall just large enough for them to go through one at a time, then through a small patch of forest. (Do these people seriously not even have a way out of spawn, or a path from spawn to the important locations?)

Dream catches up to Tubbo and Scar right as the town comes into view. They meet up at a patch of ruined land, on which two identical Nether portals are sat.

“Welcome to the Dream SMP,” Dream says with a gesture toward the slightly-broken oak slab path stretching out from the portal. “Sorry I’m late, I had to take care of some business.”

“Business?” Scar asks despite himself.

Dream fidgets with the handle of his axe sheepishly. “Yeah. I sent some of the troublemakers on a wild goose chase several thousand blocks away from here. Hopefully, they shouldn’t bother you.”

“That’s great and all, but I kind of need to get my stuff back,” Tubbo cuts in before Scar has a chance to question Dream.

“Sure, it was near Tommy’s old house, right? Why not show Scar the Prime Path while you’re at it?”

Tubbo smiles, and takes Scar’s hand in his. “Great idea. Come on, Scar!”

Scar allows himself to be pulled along, dodging holes in the “Prime Path” as he does so.

“That way’s Eret’s Gay Castle-- you can’t grief it, it’s homophobic,” Tubbo explains, “and up ahead’s Church Prime.”

It’s not much of a church, Scar thinks, given the giant floating poster that’s been left to peel away. Bits of the poster have even been torn off and stolen, leaving only the item frame behind. Still, he knows better than to say rude things about someone else’s religion, even if the state of disrepair... No. He won’t say anything.

Various depictions of anti-Technoblade propaganda still up. They’re so, so ugly. Further along the path there’s a tower that actually isn’t hideous, so it was probably made by-- Eret, was it? The same guy who made the Gay Castle? A stray chicken clucks while Scar tears his eyes away from the Walmart which has magma for floors, and the Targay, and the cobblestone framework of what Tubbo claims is a Denny’s which was used once for roleplay and then promptly abandoned.

Tommy’s old house can best be described as “open air”, to put it politely. At least there’s a fence..? But as Tubbo picks up his items and the two set off for L’Manberg, politely ignoring the giant Gogy posters, they hear a scuffle up ahead.

“Let go of my fucking hair!” George shrieks.

“Not until you give me back my potato,” Sapnap responds. The two grown men are fighting like children in the middle of the Prime Path in broad daylight, pulling each other’s hair and slap-fighting but at least-- no, never mind, they’ve got their weapons out now.

George shrieks at the top of his lungs when one of Sapnap’s swings gets too close. “It’s rotted anyway, why the hell do you want it?!”

“Because it’s mine,” Sapnap insists. He finally bonks George on the head hard enough to kill him, then scoops the rotten potato out of George’s belongings. His hand toys with a flint and steel, but he eventually seems to decide not to burn George’s items for the offense of stealing his potato.

“Oh, hi there!” Sapnap says once he spots them. He waves.

Scar hesitantly waves back. He’s beginning to think that perhaps he should have worn his armor after all. He watches in morbid fascination as Sapnap takes a bite of his rotten potato. Sapnap’s face drains of all color; he immediately leaps off a cliff to go be sick in a valley away from prying eyes. George’s things are left on the ground.

“Y’know, I think I left the oven on,” Scar says slowly. Tubbo looks at him with sad, pitiful eyes, as if to say, do you see what I have to deal with?

“Would you like to go back to Hermitcraft and try again another day?”

Attempting to affect nonchalance and failing miserably at it, Scar waves his hand rapidly. “Actually, Grian really wanted to come see your server, so-- maybe I’ll send him. I’m real busy with, uh, mayor stuff.”

Tubbo nods, pretending to buy the excuse. “I’ll have Dream send you back.”

“Thank you,” Scar says fervently.

[alexlwrites]

Friday, Diner Day - 2052

There was this old couple in the corner of the room, sitting on those high red vinyl stools, both short enough to swing their feet above the ground, the man’s a little lower. They’re both giggling like highschoolers and people couldn’t help but look fondly at them.

Sitting beside them was a young woman, her chin resting on her folded hands, cheeks flushed from laughter. She hung from every word the couple said, eyes full of stars and wishful daydreams.

“So, how did you two meet?” she asked and the older gentleman smiled crookedly, slanted eyes full of mirth.

“Funny story, really” the old lady laughed “Richard here was in a motorcycle gang and I needed a quick escape from the police.”

“Betty was fistfighting transphobes that got in the way of a march for trans rights. She jumped onto the back of my bike and yelled ‘run, I’ve got priors!’”

“I shoplifted a lot” Betty nodded, quickly adding “only from big corporations, of course!”

“She stole our first anniversary gift” Richard placed his hand on top of hers, matching wedding bands reflecting light on their ring fingers “She’s very sentimental.”

There was a horrified yet endeared look on the young woman’s face, misplaced admiration for the lasting love of those elderly ex-delinquents.

Love can really be found in the strangest of places, she mused, maybe I should join a gang.

***

“A motorcycle gang, Y/N, really?”

Friday was laundry day of the week, meaning you and Yoongi wore your weirdest, most mismatched clothes while folding shirts, the smell of his favorite fabric softener covering the room, sticking to the clean sheets.

“You would look good in one of those leather jackets. Also, being in a boy band is not that different from being in a gang”.

Yoongi threw an unknown piece of clothing at you “How would you know?”

“Well, I’ll have you know, Richard, that I used to be a prolific criminal in my day. The TV in the living room? Stole it.”

“From Walmart?”

“From Hybe.”

Yoongi’s giggles and gummy smiles still managed to fill your heart with a funny and unsettling sort of warmth even after decades of being exposed to it. You would never get used to it, never be impermeable or numb to his happiness as it was directly correlated to your own. Every loud laughter you managed to get out of him was a victory and you had been keeping score for thirty years.

Friday, Diner Day - 2022

Diner day was the best day of the week, Yoongi thought. Every possible Friday was spent with his best friends in the back of a poorly lit restaurant they found when they had very little money and way too many dreams. The whole place smelled of grease and sugar, but to him the sweetest thing was always behind the counter.

As usual, Yoongi excused himself from the table only minutes after arriving, leaving behind his hollering friends and walked over to you. You had flour on your head and icing covering your hands, hair pulled into a half-fallen bun with a single pencil running through it. That day, you wore about 3 thousand beaded bracelets and high tops, each foot clad in a different colored one.

“Yoongi” you greeted him cheerfully, pretty rosy lips stretched in a grin “You are back!”

Missed me?, he wanted to ask, but even after knowing you for so long he was still too shy, too unsure. His quiet way of pinning was annoying, sometimes impossibly painful to watch, but there was still some sort of comfort in keeping his cards close to his chest, safety in all the words he didn’t say.

“Uh, yes” he mumbled, voice soft and shy “Got back a few days ago. Thought I’d stop by.”

“That’s nice of you, we all really missed you here.”

Yoongi glanced at the rest of the staff in disbelief: a teenage girl chewing gum that looked like she would rather be anywhere else, half waitering and half bullying the clients; a middle-aged cook that spoke very broken korean and only ever answered anyone with a grimace and a college boy that Yoongi had never ever seen sober. “You all did?”

You shrugged, the picture of nonchalance except for your now bright red ears “Well, I did. It’s not the same without you here on fridays.”

Yoongi’s heart always came alive when you talked to him, but some days, the days when your kindness dripped out of every words and your casual compliments got to him, on those days his heart became an Olympic athlete and tried to jump out of his chest, following his barely working brain down the street, running away from his flustered, sweaty and non-responsive body.

“Ah,,,” he said smartly, right hand flying to rub the back of his neck. C’mon, Yoongi, he thought, you can say something nice to the girl you like “I missed you too” he forced the words out, smile bordering on a grimace.

“You’re just saying that cause I serve you food” there was a light blush hanging high on your cheeks now, bringing even more warmth to your completion and the sight made hope bloom in Yoongi’s chest.

Cause if he could cause that sort of reaction on you (you, who he once saw dump hot coffee on a guy’s lap for harassing the other waitress and yell at client for making fun of the cook’s accent) then maybe he had a shot. Maybe he could find a way to work around the impending doom cloud that loomed over him due to his celebrity status and just ask you out. Just a normal-ish guy with a crush on an extraordinary-ish girl.

---

A/N: just some Fridays in the life of Richard and Betty

[katherine-mcnamara]

yeah i think, im uncomfy with dominic sherwood being used in the rp because sometimes muns in defense of him swing to the other side of the pendulum too hard and act like it was no big deal at all, and i would rather not touch those issues with a ten foot pole, but i have nothing against him as an actor and i wouldnt boycott him or whatever. there is nuance to these situations, and ultimately its to the discretion of the people writing (as a group or as an individual), and we can leave it at that...

unless a fc is a whole ass criminal, in which case, maybe reconsider. and i can see where people get combative, since defense of an actor's actions can sometimes turn into accepting an actor's actions as anything less than what it was.

unless a fc is a whole ass criminal, in which case, maybe reconsider.

I'm just gonna answer this first because GET 👏 BETTER 👏IDOLS👏

I'm ngl and say I don't see where those types of fans are coming from. Like it 100% was not nothing, and he himself has refused to let people diminish it to nothing. But when 99% of the people coming at you for liking dom, for using dom, and being like he should be banned, are out there using m*tt who was apart of the same thing dom did, has never apologised, and was only upset because it was done ON LIVE, making it clear that it was something they did to each other, how they greeted each other. This whole ass STRAIGHT man who was a part of it then had the motherfucking AUDACITY to think he had to be in the video where dom apologised and look upset and disappointed. Not any of the lgbt cast not to apologise himself for it CLEARLY being a greeting they both used, no. Because this CIS STRAIGHT WHITE MAN, decided he could be there because he played a gay man on tv. HE'S STRAIGHT.

When you get people being absolutely gross about dom and demonising him but being totally fine with all lives matter tweeting, r/ joke making, arguing with people over "having the right/it was just a joke" about the s/a "joke", refusing to apologise, marrying and moving in with a very trump supporting family and the tweets of this are gone now but given his marriage/inlaws/his own father being forced to resign from office for his program racial profiling, i believe it, but being seen at trump rallies, the silence over palenstine when AGAIN during blm he tweeted all lives matter and none of y'all even CARED. He broke quarantine when it was at it's height and everywhere was severly locked down to leave his newborn baby in another state to go fly and party and get drunk.

but he's not banned.

So I don't really blame people being overdefensive of dom. when that is the rpc/fandom/people's in general reaction. Like you will not see m/tt on banned lists when dom is. even though he was part of the thing that got dom blacklisted.

Like I'm overdefensive of dom like people attacking him but giving that thing over there a free pass I got no time for. But I will never say what he's done doesn't matter. Because that erases all the apologies, all the good he's done, how he's grown. You can't have one without the other. So agreed there. I aint touching THAT with a barge pole either.

Like I always say. Ban whoever makes you uncomfy/you don't like. But don't harass me or others over dom when m/tt gets a free pass. you will get your feelings hurt. Especially because multiple PSA'S have been made and get a ton of hits daily. op's have shared their statcounter stats with me so I know people KNOW about m/tts shitty behaviour. they just free pass because they find him attractive when you can find 80 of him at walmart. he's not hard to replace. in fact use a black, indigenous, or turkish replacement just to say f you to his dads specific racial profiling program. or a latine to say f you to him being cast as a certain someone because he LOOKED similar to the others cast in the family.

Sorry this went all sorts of off topic but if i missed any of your points please lmk!!!

Also if people want to talk to me about this please censor full names so it doesn't go in their tag!!

[feralaot]

random scouts hcs!

I did a post like this for the warriors my beloved (here) and people seemed to like it so here's one for the scouts :) had some input from @afrival for this one luv u

no warnings I think

eren

if he had twitter he would have a vaporwave bart simpson profile picture and tweet lil peep lyrics. also uses way too many hashtags

he's scared of snakes and hates armin's ball python

his eyes are probably crusty as hell and mikasa has to wipe em for him because he won't

when he's losing an argument he goes "ooh you wanna kiss me so bad" and it always escalates things but he doesn't stop

almost exclusively wears american eagle

"what's a pronoun".mp3

uses the 💯 emoji in every other text message he sends

armin

sends his friends pictures of cats cuddling/hanging out and says "me n you <3"

genuinely can't stand when people have dirt under their fingernails. he gets so mad at eren bc his nails are dirty asf and armin forces him to clean them

he calls himself sexy a lot (e.g. "that was really sexy of me")

chews on bottle caps then is like hmm why do my teeth hurt

he hates feet. toes look weird to him. nobody in his house is allowed to take their socks off

unironically uses faces like ^-^ and :3

acne :(

mikasa

she's really bad at giving advice. don't go to her for help she'll literally be like "that's tough"

probably has like 4 instagram accounts made just to follow eren

solid black profile picture and no bio

maybe now and then she'll put a my chemical romance quote on her story but that's about it, she doesn't respond to dms or anything

doesn't wash that damn scarf so it's probably stinky

sticks staples, pins, etc through the tips of her fingers for no reason other than she likes freaking people out

probably hisses at people

jean

the only possible relationship dynamic somebody can have with him is rivals to lovers

very short social fuse and has to stay home for several days after public events bc it's just exhausting

he's an introvert adopted by extroverts (connie and sasha) and has to deal with their shenanigans. truly the mom figure between the three of them

marco has to listen to him ranting about connie and sasha's foolery and doesn't have much advice to offer bc he doesn't know either

for a long time he only knew "straight" and "gay" and when he found out about the concept of bisexuality his mind almost imploded

he sighs and yawns a lot and doesn't even realize he does it. people always think he's either annoyed or tired

probably dresses like a diet e-boy. crewneck king

connie

the kind of kid in your high school gym class that wears mismatching neon clothes. bonus points if it's nike

also the most likely to start a food fight for funsies

he doesn't yell often because his voice cracks when he does and it's embarrassing

sasha and him hate cafeteria food so he always brings an ungodly amount of food in his backpack instead to share with sasha. connie's backpack is 90% food

unironically says things like "pogchamp" and "rad"

he works at zumiez and probably lives there. always rocking their latest drip

jumps up and slaps exit signs

sasha

randomly breaks into song (usually disney songs) and connie will automatically duet

manages to fall asleep in any situation. on buses, while watching movies, sometimes even mid conversation if she's zoned out enough

tried to take armin fishing one time but he almost cried because he felt so bad about it

at least reiner will fish with her though. the himbos always come through

her instagram is all pictures of fish she caught and now and then there's an awkward candid pic of niccolo

stayed overnight in a walmart one time and got away and brags about it but she won't admit it was an accident. panicked and spent the night eating snacks off the shelves to "survive"

while she's talking her voice slowly gets louder and louder and she doesn't realize it until people tell her to stop yelling

historia

pulls people by the ears to bring them down to her level

also kicks people in the shins a lot, if she's arguing with someone they'll usually keep their distance to avoid getting shin kicked

loves climbing on ymir's back and just being carried around like the little creature she is

posts inspirational quotes on her story

would definitely be a cheerleader in high school. nobody would guess a prep like her is dating some grunge girl w a pretty much opposite personality

she always has bandaids with her for some reason. if someone gets scraped she'll whip out a bandaid immediately. her friends call her "mom" sometimes

hates grilled cheese so god damn much. can't stand it

ymir

"damn I don't remember asking".mp3

is always the first one to comment on historia's instagram posts. her comments range from "beautiful my queen!!!" to "damn ma yo ass fat"

she always called reiner gay as a joke then he came out as gay and for a while she thought it was her fault

her and reiner have wlw and mlm solidarity, they're bffs for that matter

if someone tells her that her music is too loud she'll say "huh?" and turn it up

similarly if someone scolds her for something she'll go "hm? repeat that, I'm a little deaf in this ear"

"bro stfu you always tell me you're gonna fire me for being late"

levi

really really hates cooking pasta because straining the water is for some reason more difficult than it should be

"do not underestimate me, bitches"

always refuses to get his hair cut at places in shopping centers. especially walmart great clips

makes monkey noises when he sees something he likes. he started doing this as a joke to mock zeke but it evolved and now he can't stop doing it randomly

will not hesitate to knock someone on their ass if they're talking shit

coffee makes him jittery so he drinks tea instead but won't admit to anyone that he lowkey also has a redbull addiction

hange calls him a catboy but he doesn't know what that means so he's always like "yeah" bc he thinks it means he's a cat person

hange

buys levi shoes from the kids section and doesnt tell him bc he likes them anyway

such a millennial, they say shit like "doggo" and "adulting"

"for practical reasons I don't exist. do not perceive me"

probably wants to marry mothman

levi has had to scold them on several different occasions for bringing live animals into the house

legally isn't allowed to cook bc they can and they will blow something up

goes on tipsy rants almost nightly

erwin

white skechers king

hosts barbecues in those white skechers. he talks shit about people with nile and pyxis like a bunch of gossiping middle aged fath- wait

his profile pictures on social media are probably pictures of himself taken from awkward angles with an empty expression. it's always posted like six times as well

when levi is getting Out Of Hand he'll pick him up from under the arms and carry him away like "okay, that's enough" and levi kicks around but can't escape

rubs his hands together a lot like a fly. nobody knows why he does it. what are you scheming

falls asleep on couches while watching sports games

[swinging his keys around his finger] "let's rock and roll"

[nightlight-firelight]

Hi everyone, I’m really hoping you guys like this one! I’m hoping to continue this story, if you all like this. I’m not used to writing for other people, so please give me some feedback on how I could make this more enjoyable.

“Small Things Come With a Awkward Price”

Chapter 1

Getting home was a nightmare and getting back into your room is the top priority in your mind. The trip from Walmart had you exhausted due to the unexpected heat. Looking at your phone, you swear that today was only supposed to be in the seventies. You drop off your grocery bag onto your bed and pull out the item you have been waiting to open up. The Sonic Boom season one DVD set came with Sonic and Dr.Eggman figures. Even though the box was banged up, you bought the set anyway. The thought crossed your mind that a kid tried to open the box to get the figures but luckily didn’t succeed. You opened the banged-up box and pulled the figures out and set them on the bed. Then, taking out the two DVD cases, you set those on the bed and take a walk to the kitchen with the busted box and the excess plastic.

On the way to the kitchen, your thoughts began to wonder why you had picked up the box set to begin with. It was a good price and with the addition of the figures, you thought yourself lucky to get the last one they carried. Looking back, however, you did remember that this box was just under one of the shelving units next to the videogame isle, not even covered by a speck of dust. You had only seen the box when you went to look closer at a price tag, seeing the corner of the disheveled box and its contents. Pacing your dominant foot on the small peddle of the garbage can, the lid lifts from its closed positions and you gently toss the trash into the bin, only seeing a slip of paper glide out of the now trashed box.

You groan in annoyance that you have to take care of the fallen slip and pick up the small piece of paper after a try or two keeping it slightly stick to the floor. You take a closer look at the paper and see that it had some writing to it.

‘Hope you like my surprise!’

Staring at it puzzled you. Who was this for? I wasn’t meant for you to find, at least that what you believe. Was this put in here as a joke or an accident or-,

‘Clack!’

You jump ever so slightly from the odd noise that had pulled you away from your thoughts. The noise appears to come from your room, from the way the sound was only slightly distant and lightly muffled by the walls. You take more of a pep in your step and get to your room to investigate the noise. Taking a look around your room, you find after a minute of looking to see your Sonic figure on the floor. Picking him back up you take a look at him and see that his paint job was really impressive for a small action figure. You rolled him around in your hand and were impressed that the figure, all around, was correctly put together and made. No chip marks, no lack of paint, or extra paint where it shouldn’t be. No mistakes. You smile a bit at the thought and set Sonic on your small table next to your bed. You see that the Dr.Eggman figure, however, was almost to the edge of the bed, laying on his tummy, and had his arms pushed out in front of him. ‘Looks like he pushed Sonic off.’ You laughed at that thought of the plastic toy throwing its plastic arch-nemesis over the edge of the bed.

You pick the doctor up and examine him as well. He just like Sonic with the most impeccable paint job you’ve seen. You blush a bit and hold him more gently. You won’t lie and say that you may have had a crush on the doctor for a while now, not trying to deny it anymore. The first time that you had seen him on screen when watching the cartoon, you had butterflies swarming inside of you. The way he spoke was like music to your ears, and the way that he got when he thought he was about to win was so cute to you. You wished that they had made a third season to keep going with the cute doctor, but alas, good things must come to an end.

Taking the doctor and placing him onto your mountain of pillows you take a new pair of clothing into your bathroom and get cleaned up again, remembering that the heat had not been kind to you earlier. Once done, you put your old outfit into your laundry hamper and grabbed your portable DVD payer from the corner of your room. You had gotten this for the holidays and once you had gotten it, you never put it down for more than a few hours. You open up the player and take the first DVD case and open up the side of it up to show you the contents inside.

Your mood changed to a sour one when you saw the DVD itself. A plain disk with the words ‘Sonic Boom Season One, First Disk.’ repaced what would have been the official disk. You were upset that this was a false product and went to look at the second case. When you opened that one you were greeted by the bootleg copy of the second disk. You set both cases down and head to the kitchen you grab your favorite drink.

‘Really should have grabbed this earlier when I went to throw out the box.’ thinking bitterly as you swing open the fridge door and grab a bottle of your elixir that would of relax the current mood you were in. Opening the cap and dowing a few gulps of the drink, you realized that maybe you might have had gotten a copy that may have been a gift to someone or a factory error. You put the cap back on and take a deep breath. You had wanted to watch the show and still hope that the disks were holding the content you crave.

You made your way back to your room again to find your DVD player’s disk tray opened with the first seasons stuck in the correct spot. You freaked. You KNEW that you did not put the disk is the try, not even taking it out of its case, what is it ended DOING out of the case? You panic for a second and take a look around your home to make sure no one was in the house with you. After a check of the windows, rooms, closets, and even checking under furniture, you concluded that no one could have been in your house. You take a calming breath and sit down on the edge of your bed. You try and come up with some sort of explanation. Mabey you had put the disk in your DVD player and forgot about it. You were a bit sleep-deprived due to the last week of finals, so maybe you may have forgotten? You try and relax and after a few minutes you calm down enough to stop thinking of making scenarios of how this could have happened. After getting a grip, you push the lid down of the DVD player and start up the system. Sitting on your bed, you get to the main menu and sigh of relief that it was a copy of the show and not a knock-off. “So this must be a prototype or an unreleased version, cool.” Speaking to no one in particular. You press play on the first episode, ‘The Sidekick.’ and lean back the ride.

At first, the episode appeared normal. That ended when it got to the scene where Dr.Eggman got the poster for the sidekick tryouts and when the fourth wall gag kicked in and dropped the camera away from the doctor’s face, when he picked it up, however.

“Lousy security camer-.” he had stopped and looked dead into the ‘camera’. His eyes widened and he gave off a soft gasp, and you swore he was looking dead into your eyes, however, the scene quickly changed into the next stop before he could react. You pause the clip there and lean back.

NO WAY that happened. Your brain at the moment was fried and you KNEW he looked at you. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute and you had to take a few deep breathes to make sure you didn’t hyperventilate. ‘Breath,’ You keep telling yourself. ‘Breath!’ After few minutes of reconciliation, you looked back to the paused screen and ponder on what you should do. This has to be edited or who knows what. You were too far into this to give up now. First, the way the box was hidden was now becoming way too suspicious, second the way the figure looked way too good to be sold in a box set like that, and now this? You realized that this might be bigger than what you anticipated. Your eyes connect with the figure on your bed. You wanted to see where this goes. You had to see where this leads. You press play again.

You kept watching and when it got to when the doctor was introduced it was normal until it got to the Doctor entering the try-outs. He would keep going with the same dialog but kept taking glances over to you. The episode kept playing. The ending was different, however. Once BurnBot was destroyed via growing in the ice lake, Sonic and Tails didn’t kick the doctor away from the area. Instead, they did kick the Egg-Mobile out into the distance, but the doctor jumped out, landing in the area around the lake, letting Sonic and Tails leaving the scene. The camera focused on Eggman again as he lifted himself from off the ground and into the camera’s range. This time there was absolutely no way that the Docter did not see you as his expression look of that of confusion and worry. You decided to test out to see if you were going insane or if this was just an amazing edit. You wave to him. He hesitates for a moment. “Who-” But before he could finish that sentence, a very large light appears from the screen, blinding you. You cover your eyes and try to maneuver your body away from the small screen, only forgetting that you were seated in your bed and had just flung yourself off of it. You yelp out of fright and waited to hit the floor. You felt something grab you by the waist and pull you back up on the bed slowly. Uncovering your eyes you were met with something that happens only in fanfiction. A, very real, Dr. Eggman holding you in his hands, keeping you from falling off the bed.

“Hello.” His voice wavers from either the awkwardness of the situation or the fact that he just showed up into your room.

This is awkward.

[misscaptainamericana]

sixteen

word count: 1557

content warning: anxiety, nicole being a little perfectionist

It had been a week since the trip to Montana, the night that Chris proposed and the two were settling into this new lifestyle together.

The two had just gotten back from lunch with Chris’s dad and Chris was making himself comfortable on the couch as Nicole walked past him from their room to the kitchen and grabbed his keys.

“What’s-uh-What are you doing?” He asked not to lift his head up.

Nicole froze with a small tongue click before answering, “I gotta run to the grocery store so I can get some more things to bring to your mom’s house.”

“I thought we were just making the cheesecake, I know but I was texting her last night and I told her I wanted to make some extra things like cookies for the kids and I-”

With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled himself off the couch and Nicole quickly started shaking her head, “No you don’t have to come with me! It’s my fault I didn’t bring my list.”

“I don’t mind I was just hoping we could snuggle up and watch some Christmas movies.” ‘We can! We totally can, but we still have to wrap the presents and we can do that at the same time. I had the presents for the kids sent here along with the wrapping paper so I hope you didn’t wrap them yet. And I haven’t gotten anything for your siblings. Maybe we should also swing by Target or the mall or something. I got something for your mom but I-”

Chris laughed and shook his head, “I ordered some extra things for you to wrap and put your name on, you don’t have to worry about any of that.” Nicole rested her head against his chest, “I’m sorry, I just really want them to like me. I feel like I didn’t make a great impression and if there is one thing I can do well is bake for Christmas and make presents look pretty, it’s kinda my thing. So if I nail this then maybe they’ll just agree that I’m great and we’ll be good.”

“They love you. We’re engaged. We are good so you can take a breath.” He said cupping her face in his hands. Her face fell into a sad sort of smile after taking a deep breath. “Good job.” He said to her with a smile and kissed her forehead before wrapping his arms around her, “We can go to the grocery store, we can go to Target, maybe even Walmart. There’s this small store in town I know Carly likes so we can stop there. We’ll get some pizza and then we can wrap presents. Tomorrow morning we’ll make ourselves a hearty breakfast, put on Christmas music and bake our hearts out.”

Nicole smiled up at him, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Which is why I want you to know I’m here to help… Do you have a list?” “Wrote one up while you were on the phone with Mark two days ago.”

“What are we making?”

“Apple pie, red velvet cheesecake, chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, and toffee. But we’re also making another apple pie and an extra thing of toffee because I want you to give some to your dad.”

Chris’s mouth hung open in shock a little bit before the list finished and he finally laughed, “You wanna make all that?”

“I’ve done it before.”

Chris shook his head with a big smile, “You are something else.”

“I hope that’s a good something else.” She said with a wink.

“Alright, we better get this show on the road. Go get your coat back on.”

The rest of the day went by in such a blur, Nicole was almost in disbelief when she walked into the living room and saw the stack of close to two hundred presents. She was so excited to see the kids' faces when they opened all their presents. Chris made them some omelets as Nicole got out all of the recipes and broke down the order on how she was going to bake things. It started off with the apple pie and cheesecake as Chris peeled and sliced the apples and Nicole made the crust before starting on the cheesecake.

She was very happy with the fact that he had three ovens as it meant she could cook the red velvet cake, the cheesecake, and both pies at once.

Chris watched as Nicole started to put random slices of unbaked pie crust on a baking sheet, “What are you doing with those?”

“My mom used to always take the excess and put them on a cookie sheet. She would brush them with butter and cinnamon sugar and bake them. A little snack while you keep making everything else.” With a small shrug, she took the red velvet cake out and placed the pie crust scraps in.

She was adorable and it was great to see her in her little element. He couldn’t wait for them to bake all these Christmas treats with their kids. They spent the rest of the night making four dozen chocolate chips and six dozen sugar cookies using three dozen for festive colored buttercream and the other three for decorative royal icing. He was almost in disbelief when he put down the final buttercream cookie he had frosted and looked at the clock as it almost read nine at night.

Chris looked over the full kitchen island of all the treats they spent the night making. “I think we did a pretty good job don’t you think?”

Nicole yawned and stretched, looking over their good work, “Great, we did so great. Do you wanna take a shower?”

“I’m surprised you don’t want a bath.”

“Yeah, but if I take a bath I’ll fall asleep and I need to frost the snowman after. I just feel like I have sugar and flour all over me.

Chris was a little upset that she didn’t join him in bed after her shower but he figured it wouldn’t take her longer than thirty minutes as she frosted everything else so fast. Almost two hours later he came into the kitchen to see her still decorating the cookies, “Baby, it’s after eleven what are you still doing in here?”

She looked up at him with a pout before looking back down, “I wanted to make sure they were perfect and so I had to make more icing to put little scarves on the snowmen.”

He smiled and kissed the side of her head before hugging her from behind, “Well, I’m sure they will be perfect because you made them.” He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked down at them, “They’re adorable, just like you. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

“Yeah I just need to-“

“Nicole.”

She finished up the last three before putting the piping bag down, “Fine.”

“They’re incredible.”

“They don’t have arms…I kinda want to make them mittens.”

“You know that they don’t need mittens. They’re cookies. Delicious cookies that my family will appreciate but will also very quickly eat. Okay?”

“Okay…Can we put the icing in the fridge in case I change my mind before we go tomorrow?”

“Sure.” He told her before gently turning her to face him. He cupped her face in her hands with a small smile. “Let’s take a few deep breaths, okay?”

She tiredly nodded and did as he said. Breathing in and out with him until she finally relaxed in his arms.

“Why are you anxious?” He asked with a small smile.

“I don’t think I’m anxious.”

“Babe, look at our kitchen.. It's midnight. It’s bedtime. What’s going on?”

“I just… I want everything to be perfect, you know? It’s going to be our first Christmas.”

“Yes, our first Christmas of many. Relax… Enjoy it with me.”

“I’m sorry.” She responded with a small pout.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He told her before kissing her forehead and pulling her to his chest, “I just want us to have a great holiday. So let’s clean this up so we can go relax, okay?”

Nicole made sure all the cookies were in containers and Chris put away the icing and cleaned up the bowls.

As they tucked into bed, Chris wrapped his arms around her pulling her closer to his body. With his left hand under her thigh lifting it onto his waist, he made himself comfortable as Nicole continued to ramble about plans.

“I’m thinking we can bring the red velvet cake and some cookies to dinner tomorrow and then we will bring the rest on Christmas Day.”

“That’s a good plan because I’ve been dying to eat that cake since I frosted it.”

“I know, you have shown a lot of restraint. I’m very proud of you.”

Chris smirked and nodded with his eyes closed, “I have shown a lot of restraint.”

Nicole laughed, “If you keep being good I will let you unwrap me tomorrow night.” She smirked as he gripped her thigh tighter.

“What if I want to unwrap you right now?”

“You’re the one that said it was bedtime.”

“It’s the only way I could get you to bed.”

“You could’ve fucked me in the kitchen.” She started to laugh before he quickly moved on top of her, connecting his lips to hers.

(Next Chapter)

[cevansbiceps]

you got me hanging from the ceiling | spideychelle → [2]

pairing: peter parker x mj (ft. ned x betty)

rating: pg-15

genre: fluff + humor + crack + smidgens of angst sprinkled here and there + canon divergent after spider-man: homecoming

summary: MJ drags the chair opposite them—she’s never sat so close to their seats—and leans forward. Her eyes turn to slits. “Thought you’d lost it?”

Peter’s breathing sort of speeds up, sweat breaking on his forehead, and, dear God, what the hell is wrong with him, Ned’ll have a field day if he gets anything on his phone, and he’d be right, because, what the hell is wrong with him, it’s just MJ!

Maybe he’s just scared.

Or, Peter Parker is slowly falling for MJ, while MJ seems to be slowly falling for Spider-Man. But, wait—it’s the same thing.

Is it really, though?

note: aaand posting resumes!

—  leave me a word!

series → 1 [2] 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Patrolling is not fun when Peter's got a bigger problem at the back of his mind. But the suspected-drug-dealers he was originally chasing have been playing cards for almost an hour in the warehouse he was watching over, so he has traveled a few blocks uptown to patrol.

For a long while, there's no activity. He swings from building to building, ends up on a rooftop of an abandoned building, and kind of just hangs there, looking around.

He's seriously bored. And he can't even talk to his best friend, because he's been trying to avoid Ned ever since their after school mini-confrontation.

(They're leaving AcaDec practice, and Peter's still thinking about MJ's pink cheeks and her obvious concern for his class performance.

Like, sure, it could be because she needs him to stay on the decathlon team, and that won't happen if his grades slip, but the pink cheeks and weird behavior doesn't really go with that theory, does it?

“So, MJ's definitely got a thing going on for you.”

Peters heart does not skip a beat. It does not. He rolls his eyes, waving a hand to dismiss the assertion. He laughs, feebly. “She's observant, Ned. She—she’s said it herself, multiple times.”

Ned stops walking, eyebrows raised in an incredulous look. “Peter, are you serious? That is so obviously a cover-up!”

Peter's palms start to sweat, and gah, this is hell. “You think so?” He tries to play it cool, shrugging a shoulder. “I mean, okay, maybe she acts like she has something going. Because, you know. It's MJ. She's always trying to find ways to freak us out.”

“Uh huh. Except you don't look even remotely freaked out to me. On the contrary, you seem to be acting just as much—if not more—weird with her. Say, Pete. Do you have a thing going for her?”

Peter has no real way of hiding the heat that travels up to his face. He can hear Ned snickering under his breath. “No, no, no—haha, no, Ned. That's—that’s so…that's not true.”

Ned gives him a grin, nodding, and walks away in the direction of his home.

Aw, hell. This isn't gonna end here.)

Peter clicks his tongue at the memory, shooting off a web, and swings off the quiet, undistributed neighborhood that obviously doesn't need him.

He feels like he's thinking too much, but he can't seem to be able to help it.

He thinks about his own behavior in the past few hours and grimaces. He believes he's been acting somewhat weird ever since MJ saved his ass from detention as well as getting fried by Mister Harrington. But he also believes that it's probably ought of gratitude.

Huh. Should he really be claiming to “believe” something if he has to add a “probably” to it?

“Ugh, what the hell wrong with me?” he groans to himself, swinging past rows of houses, and comes to a rest on the roof of a bank built opposite a Walmart.

Sighing to himself, he sits down and pulls the lower half of his mask up, exhaling into the rapidly cooling September air.

“Today’s been such a rollercoaster, man,” he mumbles to himself, half tempted to engage Karen in a conversation to pass time as he scans the area for any shady activities.

He feels like smacking his palm over his face when he finally spots something.

There's this sketchy looking dude that's grabbed a lady's bag and is trying to make a run for it. The lady's come out of the Walmart. There's, like, twenty cameras around them and a police station down the block.

Peter isn't even needed here, to be honest. But he's got nothing better to do, so. He's gotta put this idiot in his place.

With a sigh, he pulls his mask back down and swings off the rooftop to land in front of the guy. “Hello, Mister Thief! You seem to be in custody of something you're not supposed to have!”

The guy has a really pale, almost yellowish skin, and his pupils are almost dilated, and—

Ugh, he smells horrible.

After quickly webbing him to a pole, Peter plucks the huge, expensive looking bag from the guy's hand.

He gives a little bow to the lady as he hands her bag back. “There you go, ma'am.”

The woman is middle-aged and he feels like he's somehow seen her before. She smiles, thanking him, and Peter can almost recognise her. Only, he can't. So he nods.

He swings up, ready to dart back to the warehouse, but lingers on the roof of the Walmart, glancing back at the woman as she hails a cab. She gives him a butterfly wave, making his cheeks immediately flush. He's so grateful for his suit in the moment.

Her eyes…look uncannily familiar…so much so, that he stares for a moment longer.

He bashfully ducks his head, then, in lieu of a bow in response to her wave.

Where has he seen her?

He swings when the car leaves, and goes back to trying to learn tricks at blackjack.

Peter almost skips school, the next day. He stayed posted outside the damn warehouse till one am in the morning, and what did the stupid suspected-drug-dealers do?

Play poker after blackjack.

He nearly slept through half of his classes, and Ned had to physically shake him awake in AP math, multiple times, because, well, the teacher's out to get him after the whole Spider-Man fanboying incident yesterday.

So, yeah, Peter is extremely frustrated, sleep-deprived and, generally really cranky by the time lunch hour rolls by.

He mumbles a half-hearted “not gonna” when Ned nudges him and asks about AcaDec.

“Dude, come on. You promised MJ you were gonna be regular, just yesterday.”

Peter clicks his tongue. God, he hates his life sometimes. “I r'ly, r'ly, r'ly c'n't,” he mumbles into the crook of his arms he's stuffed his face into. “’m d’d on m'f’t.”

“You are—you did what?”

“I’m dead on my feet,” Peter clarifies, turning his head sideway. Stares at the sandwich that Ned's gobbling down. Scrunches his nose up. “Is that celery?”

Ned's cheeks flame. “Um, uh—I guess?

Peter rolls his eyes. “Betty recommend you that?”

“She said this was her favorite recipe, so I tried it, but—” Ned looks like he's about to cry. “It tastes like shit, Peter!”

Peter sits up, chuckling. “Celery in sandwich, dude. Of course it's gotta taste horrible.”

Peter senses it moments before the shadow drops on him. Which means she was walking fast. Not that he didn't sense that, just that—

Well, he kinda wishes she wouldn't talk to them, right now, because so far Ned's only brought up Spider-Man stuff and no mentions of their after-school discussion from yesterday have come up, but Peter is eighty-nine percent sure that Ned’ll totally jump the opportunity to tease the life out of Peter is he recalls it, which he no doubt will if MJ talks to them, right now.

Peter lets out a small puff of breath, feeling beyond exhausted. His brain is too tired for all this complex high-speed thinking.

He smiles to himself when MJ awkwardly clears her throat.

“Parker. Leeds.”

His smile kinda flattens away at the ire in her tone. Wait, why the heck is he getting so darn affected, again? He looks up at MJ's squinted eyes. “Hey, MJ.”

“One week to go befo—whoa, did you sleep with eyeliner on, last night, weirdo?” She gestures to her own, spotless under-eye area, and Peter groans at the reminder of the dark circles on his face that are yet to heal.

Ned's snort of laughter is really ugly—Peter is sure he glimpses a stray piece of celery flying towards the book MJ's holding—but Peter himself just purses his lips. “Um, no, I was just—”

“Oh, he hasn't been sleeping well, lately,” Ned, unhelpfully, cuts in, drawing up a sorrowful face as he moves to pat Peter's shoulder.

Peter pulls away from the touch with a grimace. “Dude!”

“What? You were up till two, last night, weren't you?” Ned dramatically bats his eyelids.

Peter looks at MJ, who's cocking an eyebrow at him, a somewhat unreadable look on her face.

Peter swallows. “Well, uh, yeah?”

“So? You can tell MJ that! She's our friend! Right, MJ?” Ned is having way too much fun with this, just as Peter feared he would.

He looks at MJ with a sigh, pleasantly surprised to find her avoiding both of their gazes at the mention of the friendship, her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of crimson.

Whoa. There's that word again—pretty. What's with his mind using it so much in MJ related thoughts?

MJ rolls her eyes, suddenly, planting the palm not holding her book next to Ned's lunchbox, on the table. “Is this an elaborate plan to escape today's practice?”

She's narrowed her eyes at Ned, and he looks hilariously torn between wanting to rebuff and wanting to run away. A meek sound of a half-chuckle escapes him, finally. “Well…Peter didn't actually sleep with eyeliner on, y'know. The dark circles are very real.”

Peter faceplants himself on the table.

“The nationals are a week away, Leeds!”

“But he's overworked, MJ!”

“He's a healthy boy of sixteen, Leeds!”

“He's still a boy—”

“And are you his nanny, you—

“—didn’t even—hey! I'm a good friend—”

“—wasn’t even—”

“Guys!” Peter groans, cutting MJ's hissed rebuttal off. “I'll be there. Please stop this?”

Ned looks actually, genuinely saddened, and MJ makes a small sound of surprise. Peter keeps his gaze fixed on Ned's gross, celery sandwich, considering if the grossness could have permeated the PB&J he brings for Peter everyday, when—

“You know what? I'm too riled up, now. No practice today. I'm too angry to properly use my intelligence. Thanks, Leeds.”

There's a thump, a swish, and then constant taps of MJ's sneakers as she walks away. Peter is gawking in her wake, and Ned is shaking his head. “Dude, did you—”

“She totally did that for me, didn't she?”

“Oh, my God, Peter, is this some parallel universe?”

Peter has no freaking clue.

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