i finished all the server things i was doing this week

|Don’t play with me|R.MANTLE

Imagine about: Reggie and the reader are engaged while they still in school. They want to build their future together, but what happened when Reggie will be offered to start his football training in California? 

WARNING(S): Kinda smutty imagine, not gonna lie, all the love in the atmosphere (may case nausea) Reggie fucking mantle is such a sweetheart! like bitch fight me if I’m wrong 
 


It wasn’t hard to figure out Y/N’s emotions. I’ve studied her face and her moods for a long time now that I could almost always tell what she was feeling. 

She didn’t wear her emotions on her face around other people, but around me she did. Even if she didn’t, she couldn’t hide them from me for long. 

Her face was picture of blankness now. You’d never think something was wrong unless you looked hard enogh, unless you knew he facial expressions that go with her moods. Right now there was a very tiny furrow on her right eyebrow– you’d miss it if you weren’t looking hard enough. 

I always looked.

And I knew that very tiny furrow was an indication that she was annoyed. 

“How was your last exam?” I asked, thinking maybe she didn’t do well on it. 

I couldn’t imagine why. She had her nose on her textbooks all week, barely paying attention to me. 

“Good. How was yours?” 

“It’s all over now for me.” I shrugged my shoulders. 

She said she was hungry so I took her to Pop’s. I would taken her back to my flat so we could order pizza and catch some sleep there— and maybe more— but I haven’t taken her out on a date since last week. 

Besides, this is what girls wanted after laboriously studying for exams, right? Go out and celebrate? 

She wasn’t looking at me but frowning on the fish and chips on her plate. I wanted her eyes on my. Just on me. 

I sneakily fished out a couple of fries from her plate and thew them in my mouth. She didn’t glare and slap my arm like I was expecting her to. 

Yeah, something was up. 

“If I did something wrong. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot and I will do anything– grovel at your fit, buy you diamonds, a car— no?” I grinned when she looked up at me dryly. “Okay, how about If I buy you a big jar of chocolate cream?” 

That teased a small smile out of her. 

When she caught me staring at her lips, I grinned. 

“Do you have your period?” 

Now she laughed reluctantly then looked at me with exasperation and fondness. 

“I saw Chuck today.” 

My smile disappeared. “Did he say anything to you?” 

“I didn’t know you accepted that offer in California” 

I put my fork down. “If I had a choice, I would not go” I sighed “My mom arranged these things. I have no say about it anymore, she thinks that football practise will change my life. And I really don’t care about that. She says it’s a good oppurtinity for me, but it never is. 

“What do you mean?” 

I picked up her hand, traced circles on her palm. 

“My mom is a businesswoman. That scholarship is a introductiobn for me to our business partners, investors and to get more investors. Thing of it this way: my mom is a T-rex. She needs food to feed herself and her babies. So she looks for a place where all the animals with the most body fat gather. And then she starts picking the fattest of them all.” 

She laughed, rolled her eyes then grinned at me. “Only you would make an analogy like that.” 

“That’s why you like me.” I kissed her fingers. 

And when her breathing picked up and those tempting lips parted, it was all I could do not to pull her out of her chair, dragged her to my car and kiss the hell out of her. 

“Baby…” 

I leaned closer to that I could feel her breath on my face. Her eyes glazed in yearning and I noticed the rise and fall of her chest, the creamines of her skin, I wanted to lick it. “Lets—” 

When she bit her bottom lip, I was ready to call the server. But then my phone rang. When I saw the name on the screen, I nearly groaned. “I have to take this I’m sorry, love” 

“Go ahead.” 

It was my mom and she wanted me to start my training today. I knew she didn’t like wasting time but I just finished my exams today. And I wanted to be with my girl. 

If I knew my mom would let me take today off I would have insisted it but we both know my reprieve was over. She wanted me to take over some of the operations while I was still in school, but I made a deal with her: I didn’t want to have anything to do with any of our business until I’ve finished school. 
But after that, I woul’d dedicate myself in learning everything. She agreed. 

A promise is a promise. Besides this was for Y/N and our future together. 

“That was my mom, Y/N. She wants me to fly to California and meet with my coach there to start my training. 

She opened her mouth to protest– I could see it in her eyes. She was looking forward to seeing me today too. And that was a huge consolation for me at least. But whatever she was going to sat she didn’t. Instead she called our server to have our foods packed away. 


“I know,” I said softly once we were inside my car. I joined our fingers together, kissing her palm. “I was looking forward to spending today and tonight with you, And house hunting tomorrow.” 

“It’s alright, Reggie. There’s no rush.” 

“I want to rush.” 

She smiled and reached out her hand to push my hair away from my face. 
“You need a haircut.” 

“I didn’t know she’d want me to start today. I would tell her to postpone it if I hadn’t made a promise to her that after school I’d dedicate myself into learning the business. And she’d told that guy to fly to Riverside today to meet me. He’s on his way there now. I have to catch a plane— 

“Reggie.” 

She covered my mouth with her hand to shut me up. I licked it. 

When she slaped my arm and laughed, I felt better. I knew then it was okay. 

“You don’t have to explain. I understand. I’d be busy with work this summer too.” 

I didn’t bother arguing with her or telling her that I didn’t want her to work. I already knew her answer. 

“I don’t know how long this will take. I’ll try to make it tonight or tomorrow.” 

She looked at me, leaned closer and shyly kissed my lips. 

I knew she only wanted a brief kiss but I had been going crazy dreaming about her lips, her hands on me, sounds she made when I touched her. 

I had been going insane replaying that night when I took her and made love to her. Going insane from craving for the feel of her nialls bitting in my back, her legs tightening around me and her eyes glazing over when she reached what I was desperately trying to give her. 

So when her soft lips grazed mine, I lost control. I gripped her hair in my hands and pulled her to me. Into me. And I devoured. 

“Oh God, Reggie” 

I bit her bottom lip lightly, sucked on it. “Come here.” 

Lifted her on top of me. 

“Just a little more. Give me a little more, baby” 

She wrapped her legs around my waist and I adjusted her so that she was sitting where I wanted her to. I gripped her hips, pushing and pulling and urging her to move whe it felt good. 

Her eyes were clouded with desire as they meet mine. I thrust my hips upward, mesmerized when she placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned her head back exposing her neck to me. I licked at it hungrily. 

She let out a sexy moan and started to rock her hips faster. 

“Yeah, that’s the way, Y/N. Damn. Keep going” 

I watched as she took what she needed, as she let herself go lost in the incredible sensation of our bodies sliding and rubbing against each other. 

I would given her everything she asked of me. She was so fucking beautiful I couldn’t help but watch as she took and took and took. 

I kissed her hungrily before she shattered in my arms. 

It was a moment before I could finally speak. She was drapped on me, her lips on my neck as her breathing finally slowed down. 

“You just dry humped me in the parking lot,” I muttered. 

And then her shoulders started to shake before her loud peals of laughter filled the car. 

“I love it.” 

“Ohgod Reggie. You drive me crazy.” 

I pulled her back, kissing ger again. I couldn’‘t get enogh. “I can drive you crazier. Just wait until I—” 

She growled and covered my mouth with her hand. When she was sure I wouldn’t do anything, she rested her chin on my shoulder and I stroked her hair gently. 

“I’ll come home to you as soon as I can,” I promised. 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

“I miss you already.” 

“I know,” she whispered. “I miss you allready too.” 



ASK / MASTERLIST 


The Call

General Disclaimer

AN: My contribution for Sakura’s birthday. Quickly jotted down on my extra long lunch break ^_^ Enjoy!


“This,” Sakura Uchiha grumbles as she drives her fist into the face of a particularly grimy bandit, “is not how I expected to spend my birthday.”

Sasuke makes a vaguely inquiring noise as he carries out a variation of his Shishi Rendan, sending his opponent flying through the air with several cracked bones.

“Never mind,” she mutters, ducking a clumsy kunai strike and using her attacker’s momentum to throw him over her shoulder.

The large band she and Sasuke have stumbled upon have been plaguing the nearby village for months, according to the inhabitants. They’ve take up residence on the only bridge in the area and have been charging travellers a toll to get by. Those who refuse have been violently robbed and left for dead, according to the warnings of several survivors.

It should have been the work of ten minutes to neutralise them and tie them up, but neither she nor Sasuke expected the majority of them to be former Kusa-nin. Even in this time of peace, missing-nin present a constant problem – especially those who made their livelihood pursuing war.

At least the Akatsuki had an actual purpose – these creeps just want to bleed people dry for their own benefit!

In the end, in the name of expedience rather than anything else, Sasuke traps them all in a genjutsu and Sakura rounds them all up. She’s kept the use of her strength to a minimum, not wanting to accidentally destroy the bridge they are trying to liberate.

Keep reading

Max Stuffing

An original weight gain story by kyaada

It had been a couple of months since I’d seen Max in the flesh, and I always looked forward to his visits to town with the neverending hope that I’d see more of him than the time before.  Each time we’d meet, I’d concentrate on bolstering his waning self-confidence attributed to his ongoing weight gain, assuring the 26 year old Swedish meat ball that he still had more than his share of good looks.  Of course, I’d also fill his head with restaurant ideas and tempting recipes, never letting him forget that it was important to keep that belly of his full of many pleasingly delicious things.

It was fairly busy day at the warehouse club with a steady stream of shoppers pushing their as-yet unfilled carts past Max’s roadshow table.  Very few stopped to show interest in the product, making it a perfect time to hang out and chat.

“Yeah, I tried to go on this diet that my father recommended, and I had bought all of this stuff– $400 worth–” Max said, scratching the top of his belly, “but it lasted two weeks. Then I gorged my way through Thanksgiving, then the whole month of December, well, hell, I’m still eatin’ like a pig.  My pants are so fucking tight, and well, this is my biggest shirt and it’s completely filled.”

“Max-filled, by the looks of it,” I said, reaching over and giving his rounded belly a gentle pat, bringing out a bit of laughter.  “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Max, I mean, come on– you’re still a really handsome guy.”

“Well yeah, but I was so hot when I was in college.  I need to get back into shape.”  He stood there letting his belly stick out as far as it wanted after his substantial lunch at Applebee’s.  Giving his stomach a friendly massage with one hand, Max worked out a steady stream of mini-belches.  “Fuck, I ate too much for lunch.”

“Aw c’mon, Max.  You enjoyed it, right?”  

“No doubt, man.”  Max put both hands on his midsection, spread his fingers, and gave his food barrel a squeeze.  “I enjoy everything too much– the main reason why I weigh 240 pounds now.  I’m the biggest I’ve ever been!  My roommate calls me his “big boy” now.  Damn him anyway for being such a good cook.”

“Oh, does he cook for you, Max?”

“Yeah, with me being out of town for a week at a time, it’s hard for me to keep groceries in the house.  He usually just cooks for me when I’m home, and with what he learned in those cooking classes last year, he’s become quite the budding chef.”

“That’s more than handy, huh?” I asked, watching Max reach down and shift some stiffness in his pants zipper region.

“You could say that.  The other week, he made this awesome tender steak with these loaded baked potatoes and this vegetable dish and this amazing garlic parmesan bread and my favorite salad and even some homemade pasta.”  Max kept his hand on top of his belly as he described the lengthy meal, rubbing back and forth as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.  

“What? No dessert? The bastard!”

Max’s belly shook as he laughed.  “It’s all good– I don’t really care all that much for sweets.  Besides, I probably wouldn’t have been able to fit it in.  As it was, I could barely move.  I just sat there on my fat butt like a big vulnerable pregnant Buddha.”

At the mention of his divine after-dinner state, I found myself getting harder.  “That must have been quite the sight, Max.  Did your roomie rub the Buddha belly for luck?”

“Come to think of it, he did, and he snapped a couple photos with his phone.  He told me that I was too big to get away and that I’d have to eat the rest of the sausage cannelloni because he didn’t want any leftovers.”

“Wow! It sounds like you were definitely vulnerable to a serious overfeeding at that point.”

“I was beyond swollen when I finished that last bite of saucy pasta goodness. Good thing I was close to the couch and he only had to help me waddle a short distance.  The Buddha was ready to burst!”

“You know, you really do need to come to my house on a night when you don’t have any appointments.  I’ll make you some dinner, and you can relax yourself with a good feed.”

5’ 10” Max smiled at me, showing off his irresistible dimples, “that sounds like fun.  We could have drinks and I bet you’re a pretty good cook.”  

“Oh absolutely.  Guys that come to my house for dinner should wear pants with a little give in ‘em and a shirt that will stretch some.  I’ve had a couple complaints where my dinner guests had eaten too much.”

“Are you gonna impregnate the Buddha?”

“Maybe a little bit, Max.  Overstuffing you and putting you into a vulnerable state is pretty appealing to me, I’ll have to admit.  I might even have to you weigh in and out.”  My eyes shifted down to his belly region again after thoroughly inventorying his dimples, much fuller cheeks, and beginning double chin.  “By the way, what time do you go to lunch today?”

“We could go now, actually, it’s not that busy.” Max began gathering his various phones and electronic devices.  “Besides, all this talk about food has made me hungry.”
As we walked across the parking lot to his favorite standby Applebee’s, I noticed how much his round belly bounced with each eager step.  

“Where are the good places around here to run?” Max asked me as one of his heavier steps dislodged a small belch.

At first, my mind refused to connect the vision of his perfectly fat bouncing ball of belly and his desire to go through such ridiculously pointless physical effort; nonetheless, the memory of his diet and exercise talk spurred my response.  “Run? That’s too hard on your knees, Max.  You don’t want to be running.”  The short walk across the parking lot was topped by the sight of his wide rear going into the restaurant ahead of me.  He really did have an amazingly shaped bubblebutt and gloriously stacked love handles.

When we got to the booth, I noticed that the table was pushed over to one side, and he automatically chose the widest seating area. Max said that he was going to be good and just have a salad.  I told him that I knew he was trying to stick to his diet and “get back into shape”, so I first interested him in the French Onion soup that he’d never tried before, then ordered the 4-Cheese Mac and Cheese with Honey Pepper Chicken Tenders along with a steak quesadilla appetizer for us to share.  He gave it some thought and added some crispy chicken to top his humble Caesar.  

Max received his soup first, and was completely thrilled with the new flavor and stacks of gooey cheese.  He helped himself to pieces of the steak quesadilla at my urging, and was well through that pile of nibbles by the time our entrees came.  The server flew about like a crazed bee between tables because it was so packed, but she still managed to keep Max up to his nipples in Coke, which he sucked down at a near-panicked rate.  Next, Max conquered his heaped salad easily, and didn’t flinch when I pushed my mac and cheese towards him with a heartfelt request for assistance.  

Max’s belly swelled with obvious confidence.  The gap between his expanding stomach and the table edge narrowed as he widened in front of my eyes.  The fleece pullover, already tight all over, was getting a stretching in the midsection.  Suddenly realizing how full he was getting, Max leaned back momentarily and emitted a stout belch.  The bearchub of a manager chugged his way up to the table and asked how everything was tasting, recognizing Max from his many previous lunch trips.  “How’s my best customer?” the bearchub asked, “from here, it looks like you’ve got a little space left between you and that table, so we should fill it with a nice big dessert. What do you say?”

Powerless to avoid being desserted, Max watched as the bearchub sat an overscooped Blue Ribbon Brownie in front of him with two spoons.  The brownies were stuffed with chunks of dark chocolate and nuts, covered in hot fudge.  Two large scoops of chocolatey decorated vanilla ice cream sat on each side of the brownie pile in a similarly irresistible manner like Max’s fattened pecs adorned the top of his rising belly.  Despite his previously mentioned aversion to sweets, Max gorged himself to capacity on the quickly melting heap of decadence.  
“There! That was a great diet lunch, Max.” I complimented the completely rounded stud seated in front of me.  His overfull belly pushed against the table hard enough to cause a mini-roll of fatness just above the table ledge.  If I would have shoved the table over just one inch toward him, it was likely that I’d be wearing his enormous dessert.

Max smiled at me as he rested his head back against the top of the booth, absentmindedly running his hand across the top of his big bloated belly.  “I’m so fucking full that I hurt.”

“Poor guy! Applebee’s apple barrel boy.”

Max looked at his phone.  “Oh shit– I better get back to work!” His sudden realization spurred him into movement, but his next revelation was that he was a bit too overloaded to move quickly.  “Oh my Goddddd, get the forklift!  You might have to help roll out the barrel boy…”  Belching and grunting his way out of the tight fit of the booth, Max was finally able to stand up and begin his journey to the front door.  Even the most casual of observers in the restaurant could make out Max’s protuberant bulge and how it led the way while he shifted his pasta butt into gear to motor towards the entrance.  

“Take your time, Max, remember, you’re built for comfort, not speed.” I told him, looking ahead to see the bearchub manager waiting patiently at the front with a to-go bag.  

“You got that right– besides, I don’t think I could move faster than this if I tried.”

Max slowly glided into position by the bearchub manager like a heavy-laden truck pulling into a highway weigh station.  The manager smiled and thanked him profusely for coming in again, handing him the to-go bag.  Addressing Max’s confused look, he offered, “you forgot your leftovers at your table, sir.”

“But I didn’t…” Max sputtered, relaxing his belly for a moment to let it become as round as possible.  The hefty young manager peeled off a “Blue Ribbon” sticker and smoothed it onto Max’s extra-taut fleece right above his left nipple.  Finding the humor in the situation, we all chuckled at how Max really did resemble fattened free range livestock.  The bearchub reached over and patted Max’s very full belly and thanked him for being a valued customer, “I know that you’re pretty stuffed at the moment, but here’s a little snack to tide you over before dinner.”

The walk back to the warehouse was a much lazier affair due to Max’s heavy lunch.  His gut was so packed so tightly that it essentially refused to bounce with each plodding step. 

“Still thinking about taking up running again there, Max?”

“Smart ass.” Max smirked at me.  “Exercise of any kind is pretty much out in my present condition,” he confirmed as he rubbed his impressive sphere in languid circles.  “Buddha Boy here overdid it again…”

~.~

The next day, Max sent me pics during his visit to Famous Dave’s.  “Diet food” was the title of the first one, showing a mega-pile of food for his “Feast for One”, and this was after he’d guzzled beer at the bar during happy hour.  He’d told me before that he usually avoided drinking beer because it made him bloat so outrageously, but the cute young bartender had convinced him to try a local brew he ended up really enjoying. Max devoured his single feast after tanking up with beer, and sent a photo looking down to show how round he’d become.  His new gal pal behind the bar went on to work out a deal on a giant bowl of bread pudding with sauce and ice cream, enticing Max to stuff it in.  He must have handed her the phone to take the picture, so I received a very revealing shot of his tight shirt and swollen belly accompanied by a text that said he was going to “have to be rolled out.”  I texted back and told him that I loved his new diet plan.  
The following night, Max ate Mexican food before going out to two appointments.  Then, he went out for pizza and beer.  Following that, he used the 2-for-1 Whopper meal coupon I’d given him and had to go to his hotel room for a rest.  He sent me several photos of his attempts to get comfortable on the bed, blaming me for his overgorged state because I’d shoved that coupon on him.  After accusing me of being a bad influence, he told me that he had the next evening free, so I jumped on the chance to invite him over for dinner.  Then he called me.

I answered the phone and heard this protracted belch rumble through my earpiece.  

“Wow, Max, you okay?”

“Oh my GOD I’m so full.  Just stick me with a pin and pop me already.”  Max said, breathing loudly enough for me to hear him over the phone.

“Poor guy. At least you’ve had two nights of stretching your stomach before you come to dinner at my house.”

“I’m definitely stretched out. I had to unbutton my pants.” Max belched again.  “I look so fat right now.”

“You looked like a big ol’ sausage in the pics you sent me.  A big, stuffed sausage…”

“Sauté me in beer until I split.” Max quipped.  

“So, are you in the mood for beer tomorrow night, Max?”

“Whatever you got.  I’m just gonna sit there with my mouth open like a little baby bird and let you feed me whatever you want.”

“Okay then.” I felt my face get hot as my blood started to rush around my body.

~.~

I certainly didn’t mind spending hours preparing for Max’s Big Meal the next day.  Cooking and baking non-stop, I gave my collection of cookbooks a thorough workout.  Feeling a touch exhausted, I poured myself a gin and tonic and looked over the assortment with undeniable satisfaction as the doorbell rang.  Time had really gotten away from me during all of that preparation.

I opened the front door and guided Max in.  “Hello there,” I said.  “Hey,” Max replied with a smile.

“You know, I’ve never been invited to a guy’s house for dinner before,” Max said as he shed his coat and showed off his ensemble.  To my amazement, he’d chosen his black knit pullover shirt he’d outgrown several months prior, stretched it over what appeared to be a tank top underneath, and then struggled to button his tan dress pants from work.  The zipper had no hope of traveling up to the top of the track, and there was a “v”-shaped gap underneath the tortured pants button.  

“No worries, dude.  You just sit back and get a bellyful of food and drink like normal.”

“All right, I can do that!”  Max confirmed, running his right hand over his rounded middle.    He sucked in the delicious aromas that filled the air.  “Wow, what smells so good?”

“I’m so glad you asked.  Would you like a drink?”

“That sounds perfect.” Max said, “I could use a stiff one.”  

“Kitchen’s that-a-way,” I pointed out, letting him walk in front of me.  His fat butt wobbled from side to side in front of me, and I tried to calculate how many pots of pasta it took to get the seat of his tight pants to fill out that much.  “How about a martini?”

“Sure!”  Max looked around at the smorgasbord of food around the kitchen and was genuinely surprised.  “Oh. My. God. You really outdid yourself!”

Max made short work of the frozen glassful of gin I’d poured him and held the empty out for me to fill again.  “No way, you left the scale out for me?”  Seeing the scale over by the back door, Max sauntered over and stepped on it.  “Not sure if I should do this or not…”

I took another long drink of my gin and tonic as I walked over to see what the scale had to say.  “Huh.  251 pounds, Max,” I told him as he tried to suck in his belly and lean forward to look down at the readout.  

“251, really?” Max sipped his martini confidently.  “Damn. I just keep putting on weight,” he said as he started scooping up seven layer dip with tortilla chips, “ Well, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised with how much chow I’ve been pushing down my gullet these past few days.”  The effects of the quick infusion of cold gin became obvious; Max was getting “softer”.

Like a switch had been flipped, Max concentrated on conquering the chips and dip while alternating nibbles of crostini slathered with roasted garlic cream cheese, roasted peppers, and balsamic vinegar.  I opened him a beer and he guzzled to wash down the uninterrupted stream of appetizers.  Finding true love with the barbecue sauce-drenched bacon-wrapped Italian meatballs, he popped them in his mouth, one after the other, like Pac Man on a hurried trip through the maze.  Max’s black shirt stretched as his stomach swelled, and his facial expression was that of pure bliss.  “What’s for dinner?” he asked.

“Come this way,” I said, guiding him into the dining room where I’d set a very attractive table.  “Make yourself comfortable.”

“One minute,” Max delayed, as he doubled back to fill a large plate full of his favorite hors d’ oeuvres.  

“You’ve sure got a good appetite there, Max.” I complemented him, giving his middle a lustful stare.

“You’re an amazing cook, too.  I think I’m in trouble,” Max told me, setting his big plate of nibbles on the table and rubbing his rounder belly in wide circles.  

Max’s prediction of trouble became more real over the next hour of uninterrupted binging.  After he’d finished the entire pan of steak enchiladas, the outline of his wide belly button was unmistakeable through his divinely taut shirt.  The slipperiness of the black knit material caused the hem of that outer shirt to slide up a bit on his swelling belly, creating a white strip of the cotton undershirt below.  Max finally took a break from shoving food into his mouth.  He scooted his ample butt forward and leaned back in his dining chair, arching his back slightly.  The movement caused him to emit a very satisfied belch; startled at the volume of the burp, Max excused himself and rested a hand on top of his much taller belly.

I leaned toward him, unable to hide my pleasure in his condition, and pushed my hand against his firm stomach.  Max let out a grunt and looked over at me.  “How are ya feelin’ there, big guy?” I asked, giving his bulging belly a couple enthusiastic thumps.  “Yer gettin’ big!”

“The food is too good. I gotta use your restroom for a minute.”

Max struggled to get up, grunting and groaning all the way, pausing to stand before me while he stretched his arms up to the ceiling.  His combination of shirts rode up his belly, baring a nice portion for me to view, and his pants button appeared to be in imminent danger of launching.  Max grabbed his latest beer bottle off of the table and chugged down what was left.  “Ahhh, good stuff,” he said, belching loudly.  Allowing his belly to relax a little, the increased size was enough to pop his pants button off into my lap.  

“Well, it was only a matter of time.  That button’s days were limited,” I comforted him.

“40s here I come,” Max said before turning to wobble to the bathroom.  I watched his concerted effort to walk after eating as much as he did, and continued marveling at how fat his ass had gotten over the previous few months. His gait seemed unnecessarily hindered until he let out a fart as he exited the room.  “Excuse me!” he called behind him as he continued his journey to apparently release even more accumulated pressure.

I checked on the outrageously topped pizza in the oven and pulled it out ahead of it becoming too browned.  Opening another beer for Max, I waited for him to return.  As I was cutting slices, I heard Max puffing his way down the hallway.  Emerging in the kitchen, he lacked his overtight black pullover shirt and was clad only in his completely filled white tank top.  His nipples were obviously hard and he’d made no effort to raise his pants zipper whatsoever.  Max’s basket was plump as he opened his mouth.  “Pizza?  Oh no.  My weakness.  You know my weakness.”

“Yup.  You told me one time and I’ve never forgotten.”

Max stood there in the kitchen admiring the incredibly tasty mound of toppings smothering a semi-thick crust, sucking back drool and swallowing hard to keep it from escaping the corner of his mouth.  “It looks so good.”

“Do ya think it will fit in your belly?”

“It’s definitely gonna be a tight fit.  I’m gonna have to stretch top-to-bottom and side-to-side.”

“Attaboy, Max! That’s the spirit!”

I picked up a heavy slice and guided it towards his mouth.  His lips instinctively parted as he opened his mouth wide for a giant bite.  I pushed the ample portion in as far as I could and he responded by taking an enormous chunk.  That first piece disappeared quickly, and his hunger was reignited by the irresistible combination of flavors.  He stood there in front of the cooktop gorging himself on pizza as I opened another beer for him.  Max spread his feet apart to lower his center of gravity toward the food supply, and relaxed his abdominal muscles as possible to facilitate continuous swelling.

I must have created the perfect storm of toppings because Max could not and would not stop eating.  His midsection blew up like a balloon as he used both hands to push in slice after slice.  He looked over at me with a couple pieces remaining, blinked several times, belched forcefully, and said, “I’m getting s-t-u-f-f-e-d!!”

“No doubt, Max.  Your gut looks like you’ve swallowed a beach ball.”

Max chuckled as he requested another beer. “I can’t believe what a bad influence you are.  I’m supposed to be on a diet!”

“Hey, I’m sorry, Max.”  I walked over and placed my hand on top of his protruding belly.  I pushed in to fully appreciate the fullness, watching his nipples harden again.  His softened pecs sat on top of his overfed belly as plump reminders of his long-forgotten days in the gym.  I put my other hand on the small of his back, brushing his thick lovehandle on the way over.  Pushing him forward with one hand as I rubbed back and forth on his solid belly with the other, I noticed him chew his mouthfuls faster.  “Your diet is as blown as this fat belly.”

Max looked down and the surprise on his face was evident.  “Holy fuck…my belly has never been this big!”

“Feels good, doesn’t it, Max?”

“Fuck yeah. Keep rubbing!  Maybe get behind me and use both hands…”

He didn’t have to ask twice, and I pushed my hot crotch into his fat bubble butt as I reached around his front.  Max gobbled down the last of the pizza and guzzled his near-full beer.  I squeezed a big long belch out of him and then shook his enormously swollen belly from side to side.

“You’ve impregnated me with food!” Max babbled in a daze, leaning his head back against my shoulder.  “Not that I’m complaining at all, but fuck, I’m so fat!”

“Yeah, you are. Your belly feels like it’s gonna bust!”

“No lie. You ought to pop me and put me out of my misery!”

“Maybe after dessert.”

“Dessert?”

I started smacking Max’s tight gut with alternating hands.  “Damn, this tank makes some fine sounds.  I could play this drum for a long time!”  Max put his weight back against me as I harvested a new round of burps from his ripe watermelon of a belly.

Max pulled away from me and waddled over to where the scale sat on the floor.  He was so full that his arms swayed out away from his body.  Stepping on the scale, he became frustrated almost immediately.  “Shit.  I can’t see the display– my belly is too big.  You fed me too much!”  

I walked over to his side, looked down, and reported the 261 that showed on the display.  Smacking him right in the full gut, I told him “hey, it takes two to make a 10 pound food baby.”

“Fuck, man.  I gotta go on a diet.  I’ll never find a girlfriend at this rate.”

“Max, I’ve told you before…you’re a damn handsome guy!  So what if you’re thirty, forty, uh, sixty or so pounds overweight for your height.”

“More like 80 pounds overweight,” Max smirked, putting a hand on each side of his bloated sphere of chow.  “Okay, 90.”

“Trust me, Max.  You can find a girlfriend.  There’s plenty of women out there that will find you a plenty good catch.  You’ve got a steady income, you’re reliable, and you come with nice big bubble in the middle, which means you’re on the level.”  

“I’m just not looking because I don’t like how I look right now…” Max said, stepping off of the scale.

“But hell, you’re so hunky and chunky.  You just need to find a girl that will bring you beers while you sit on the couch waiting for her to finish making you an extensively filling dinner.  You’d be much happier letting your belt out another notch than going and sweating it up at some gym.”

I could sense Max traveling to this magic land of perpetual weight gain in his mind as he   wobbled back into the main kitchen area sniffing around for more food. “I do hate cardio, that’s for sure.”  He parked his fat butt against the counter and let his gut relax out to full bulge.  

“See?” I eased my way over in front of him and gently punched around on his enormous ball of belly.  His tank top’s hem lifted up to expose his belly button, inviting my finger in for a visit.  “You’re destined to be an overfed chubby hubby.”  As I pushed my finger in and out of his belly hole, he horned up instantly.  “Now, how about some dessert?”

“Jeeeeeez. Are you just going to keep pushing food in me until I explode?”

“Is that a bad thing?” I inquired.

“Nah. You’re an amazing cook.  My belly is telling me to stop, but my taste buds are longing for more.  Why did you make everything so delicious?”

“It was all part of the plan to make sure you really enjoyed yourself, Max.  I’ve loved watching you grow fatter over the last few months.”

“Hmmm.  Well, you do talk about restaurants and recipes a lot.  You’re always making me hungry….even after I’ve eaten!”

“Oops… Sorry about that.”  I pulled out a plate of brownies and wafted the aroma under Max’s nose.  He started salivating again, and his dimples made a lengthy reappearance.  “Brownie cups with Reese’s peanut butter cup centers…”

“No way…”  

I took one and shoved it halfway into his mouth.  Pouring him a big glass of chocolate milk, I had him take a big gullet-clearing swig after he swallowed the generous bite of brownie treat.  “C’mon.”

Soon, I had him laying across my lap on the couch as I fed him stuffed brownies and poured chocolate milk down his throat.  After I’d shove another morsel in his eager mouth, I’d give his ever-swelling belly an intense rubbing.  Max’s stomach pushed up higher and higher into the air, becoming tighter as it rose.  Finally, Max was struggling to swallow down each subsequent bite, and I knew he was reaching capacity. 

“Ohhhh, my belly…” Max moaned.  

I put both hands on his mound and finger-massaged my way around it.  “It’s like a big round rock!”

“I know…it’s all your fault.” Max got out between labored breaths.  “I’m overgorged.”

“Poor guy.  Hard-bloated from rib to cock….” I thumped his enormous gut like a ripe melon.  “Now, aren’t you glad you finally made it over for dinner, Max?”

“Buddha is on the verge of going boom!”

Max wriggled off of my lap and capsized onto all fours on the floor.  For a moment, all he could do was adjust to the amount of gravity pulling his tumescent abdomen close to the rug.  “Blue ribbon Buddha…” I observed, remembering the sticker he’d gotten the other day from the hot bearchub manager at Applebee’s.  Thumping the side of his full tank, I produced a series of most pleasing “bomp” sounds.  “So ample and plump, this Buddha Boy,” I told him, scooting forward to sit on the edge of the couch so that I could reach all of the way under his solid gut.  “Like a big tom turkey being fattened for a sublime Thanksgiving meal.”

“Tell me about it.  I keep wanting to get back my hot college bod to get the ladies, but all I have are guys stuffing me until I’m ready to pop like a tick!”

“You should resist those insane temptations and do some push ups – right now!”  

Max grunted incredulously.  Pushing his legs back one after the other, he soon found himself laying on his beach ball of a gut in a pregnant plank position.  I pushed him over onto his back and watched his mountainous bellyful wobble into upward prominence. I mercilessly fingered his shallower belly button and shook his tank from side to side.

“Heh.  I thought so.  Now, try to do a sit up.”

“Please.” Max breathed, working out a long, satisfied belch.  I knelt down beside him and put both hands on top of his tall girthy gut, applying pressure in various degrees all over the broad expanse.  I watched his cock lengthen inside his taut underwear, knowing that he was thoroughly enjoying the attention. Grabbing the hem of his tank top, I worked the skin tight affair up to his fattened pecs crowned with hard nipples.  I slapped the bare skin of his bloated stomach, careful not to work his packed digestive tract too much.  

“Max can’t run, he can’t do a push up or a sit up,” I stated, lifting my leg up and over to straddle his big round mountain.  “He can’t even escape a sure and certain forcefeeding coming up to finish him off.”  I gently bounced on his giant gut, quite mindful of the fact that it could prove disastrous to put much weight on it.

Max sputtered out an oh-my-god, then “sit on my cock instead. My pregnant belly can’t take any pressure at all.  I’ll split down the middle!”

“Attaboy, Max,” I affirmed, giving his taut balloon a good massage, “now to push another fattening pile of food into Buddha…”

Jughead & Reader: Trapped Part 2

Read part one here

Summary: You and Jughead were both surprised by your actions that Friday night when you were stuck in the computer lab. At school on Monday, the two of you attempt to sort everything out.

Requested by: Readers~


Listen toThe English Summer - The Wombats


Monday morning rolled around all too slowly. The entire weekend felt like it was taking forever because you were not only dealing with your project and sorting out your feelings, but you were daydreaming about Jughead. Neither of you knew what was going to happen after you made out in the computer lab on Friday and that uncertainty drove you crazy.

One minute you hated the guy and thought he was a narcissistic asshole but the next you were wondering how it’d feel to run your hands over his chest with your tongue in his mouth. Thinking about him gave you this wild feeling in your stomach that you desperately wanted to tame and the only way you knew how would be to have a repeat of Friday night. 

However, you had no idea how he felt about your encounter. While you disliked him, he also disliked you. He very well could have been disgusted with himself moments after you both left the school that night. But it gave you a great sense of satisfaction to remember the look on his face when your bodies collided. He very well could have enjoyed it just as much as you. 

“Hey,” Betty greeted you as you walked into class that morning. Your nervousness about your project washed away as you thought about seeing Jughead in class. 

“Hey,” you said as you sat at your desk. You looked around for him but didn’t see him. You felt a little disappointed. 

“So I heard you and Jughead got locked in at school Friday,” Kevin said as he sat on the edge of your desk. “How on earth did he make it out alive?” He laughed. 

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anonymous asked:

dear laine, i have to know what's going to happen next with caroline working in klaus' bar! sincerely, a devoted reader :)

Back Office Intrigue (Part Two).

Part One here.

It takes a few weeks for Caroline to realize that something is off at the bar.

She’s settling in to Chicago nicely, had spent a weekend stalking garage sales so her apartment finally looked like someone actually lived there. She got a great deal on a little dining table and a set of chairs, couldn’t wait to have people over now that they actually had somewhere to sit. Her mom’s down to a single call filled with alarming crime stats every three days (a marked improvement from her twice daily briefings when Caroline had first arrived). Her classes are mostly interesting, save for the one with the drone-y professor. She figures 3 out of 4 ain’t bad at all. And she actually likes her job.

All in all, life is pretty sweet.

Caroline had been a mess internally while preparing to finally move out of Virginia. She’d had endless lists of worries, sleepless nights filled with anxiety, doubts about if she was doing the right thing. It was really nice to know that she’d done it, was well on her way to taking name and kicking ass, that she hadn’t let fear win.

She feels a little more settled, has grown comfortable at the bar and with her coworkers. Maybe that’s why she finally begins to notice the weirdness.

Klaus seems to practically live at work (though Enzo had informed her that wasn’t the case, that Klaus had a very nice place around the corner though he loathed entertaining his siblings so Enzo had only been inside twice). When in the bar Klaus spent a lot of time in his office, glued to his laptop or tablet. He did hop onto the floor whenever things got crazy or they were short staffed. Caroline appreciated it, figured it was rare. In all her years working at The Grille she didn’t think she’d seen the owner even uncap a beer let alone mix anything. He wasn’t super chatty from what she’d seen but he could turn it on with customers, left more than a few ladies discretely tugging their tops down to show more cleavage when he turned to pull bottles.

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crazy or just a bitch? you decide

i wasn’t originally going to submit this story because it’s kinda long but i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this lady who came into my coffee shop the other day.

so it was kinda early sunday morning and it wasn’t busy at all and this lady comes in. she’s already mumbling about something i couldn’t understand. my sister was near the register so she took her order and at first all she got was a blueberry muffin which was $3.54. she asks us to heat it up and put butter on the side. no biggie. i put it in the microwave and while i’m standing there waiting for it my sister is by the register and the lady just goes “it’s in the microwave.” my sisters like “what?” and she goes “it’s in the microwave!” my sister is just like yeah it is…

so i give it to her and she goes over to our finishing station where all the cream etc is located and all of a sudden she’s going “oh no oh no oh no” and i’m like wtf but there’s another customer so i just ignore it. then she comes up two minutes later and is like “this muffin is sour” my sister and i are just like …what..? and she insists it’s incredibly sour so we give her a new one and she passes on the microwave and butter this time. like alright. i even took a piece off of where she hadn’t touched it and it tasted perfectly fine, just like a blueberry muffin should taste like.

then she comes up like 5 minutes later and goes “i want some tea.” i point her to the tea selection on the wall and she looks at it for a second and picks one out. i give it to her in a to go cup because our for here infusers are incredibly confusing to older folk apparently. the tea is like $2.73 and she’s like “wow i sure do spend a lot of money here you better keep your doors open for a while. i’m like k. we tell her how long to let it steep for and she’s like “alright you have to let me know when it’s done” like lady i’m on so much espresso rn time isn’t real to me and i have other things to do. then she comes up asking for some milk but doesn’t want it in the tea right away (which is good because it ruins the tea) but she wants it on the side and she picks up one of our dome lids that we use for cold drinks that have whipped cream on them and says put it in here. i’m just like lADY. look at it. you can’t put liquid in here. it took her a second to get but she was like oh. so i put it in our small ceramic cups. i just give her whole milk.

she goes back to her table and then she yells across the room “what is this?? it tastes really creamy!” i’m like “whole milk…” she’s like “no.. it’s too creamy. want to see for yourself??” i just um no that’s okay. then she mutters to herself and just says she’ll drink the tea without the milk. k. then while she’s waiting for her tea she’s standing on the opposite side of the dining room just watching her tea? we’re like alright. then she sits down at one table when all of her other stuff is at another. good thing we weren’t busy because she’s taking up two four tops. then while my sister and i are making another customers order she comes up to me and says “this cup is discolored.” well she had taken the tea bags and completely dipped it into the tea, then touched the cup all over so of course the liquid is gonna stain the paper cup. then she goes and says that the inside of the cup is discolored too? i’m so fed up at this point and the other customer is looking at her like she’s crazy too and i’m just like it’s the tea man. that tends to happen when you put liquid in a paper cup. the she picks up one of our other cups and tries to tell me it’s discolored too. i don’t see it and she’s like ugh just give me a coffee. in a glass cup. i’m like whatever fine but once she went to sit back down i told my sister no more free stuff.

then she leaves all of her trash at one table and sits back down at her first table. like ugh. my boss and his daughter came in later to get some stuff before going to the airport because they were going on vacation for the week. of course we’re being friendly and joking and one of our regulars was in the shop so we’re all talking and stuff and i look over at the lady and she’s glaring at me. i just made sure to smile bigger and joke around more with my boss. she does this for the entire time he’s there and after he leaves. shortly after she rushed out in a hurry and left all her trash behind. like holy shit this lady made my day 🙄🙄🙄

title: i wanna wake up to you
pairing: bokuaka
rating: g
summary: bokuto and akaashi and the moments where they make a home in each other.

for bokuaka day, something light and fluffy for my fave volleyowls~ >ao3<


“Ah, it’s already this late,” Akaashi says, glancing out the dark window. He puts his pencil down, blinking across the table at Koutarou. “I should be getting home.”

Koutarou fumbles for his phone. “Uh, I think the last trains just left though…”

Akaashi frowns. “Oh.”

“You can just stay over! My parents won’t mind!” Koutarou fiddles with his little owl-shaped stress ball as Akaashi considers. It’s not the first time Akaashi stayed over, but Koutarou can’t help feeling nervous every time. He likes being able to spend more time with his friend, and he knows Akaashi feels the same, but there’s still a part of Koutarou that shakes and quivers in the pauses that make up Akaashi’s calm nature.

“Let me just let my parents know.”

“Okay! I’ll go get the futon set up!”

Koutarou bounds out of his room down to the hall closet. There’s an excited smile pulling at his lips and something swelling in his chest. They can watch some anime, or maybe more volleyball footage, or maybe play a game! Though they do have school tomorrow, so maybe Akaashi will try to make them go to sleep early. But that’s okay, because Koutarou knows that Akaashi likes talking to him, too.

Keep reading

Go to school, take extracurriculars. Go to college, get decent grades. Get an office job. It pays alright. It’s fine. Try dating. It’s fine. Spend weekends watching tv or finishing your workload. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. It's— “Fuck it,” Bokuto and Kuroo decide one day. “Fuck it all”. They fish around. They start saving up. They find a big old house in the north country, dilapidated and cheap, on a drive to nowhere, and save up. Save up.

They quit their jobs and leave the city. They take out a loan and start fixing the house up. They’ll turn it into a bed & breakfast, they think. They get to know the locals. About a mile down the road lives a farmer, a youngish man named Ushijima. He knows some people and recommends them. They help with the plumbing. And the wiring. And the carpentry. And everything that this great lumbering beast of a house needs. Bokuto and Kuroo camp in the living room while the rest of the house is made habitable, using an actual tent against any leaks, and use a portable camping stove for the first few days before the gas and oven are working. “This is crazy,” they think laughingly, as they grill hot dogs and marshmallows over their dinky little stove, mocking themselves and this ridiculous idea of theirs.

They meet a guy in town named Terushima. He’s from the city too, like them (and his style of fashion certainly shows it, with his bleached hair, undercut, and tongue piercing), but he’s lived out here in the boondocks for the past five years. He teaches snowboarding and skiing to tourists at a lodge, up in the nearby, looming mountains, in the wintertime, having taken a lifelong passion and made a job out of it. He’s a little uncouth, but easy-going and has a good sense of humor, and they become quick friends. They tell him they’re opening a bed and breakfast. He laughs; he says he wouldn’t have pegged them for the type, they reply they didn’t either. He’s intrigued, and seems to nearly whoop with excitement when they invite him to come around once they’re open, and thanks them with vigor.

They post flyers around town and take an ad out in the paper to recruit employees. They chat up the local librarians hoping to get to know the town better, as well as maybe get the word out if it wouldn’t be too much trouble? The librarians tell them soliciting is frowned upon but they do have some brochure maps for the town if they’re interested, and then ask them to move out of the way for the people behind them in line. They don’t expect much, but when they’re in again a week later, one librarian, a calm, authoritative yet kindly woman in her fifties, tells them they have a potential candidate if they’d like to meet with her? They agree, and she leaves them and comes back a minute later with a small young woman who nervously, timidly introduces herself as Yachi Hitoka. She volunteers at the library after school but would like to try working as a maid, or a server, or whatever they need, and they tell her with a smile they’ll keep her in mind. The librarian tells them knowingly before they leave, after Yachi has gone back to work, that despite her timidity she’s a hard worker, and very good at what she does, and they’d honestly be lucky to have her as an employee. “We understand,” they say politely, and thank her.

They don’t have enough money to fix up the house, they realize, or at least not all of it. They make the painful decision to make sure everything needed is done for structural integrity, and then to leave several of the rooms untouched cosmetically. They’ll only have a handful of rooms for guests, but with hope and luck they’ll have the rest of the house fixed up with revenue within a year or two. On the bright side, the limit for capacity prevents them from taking on more customers than they might be able to handle; it’ll almost be like a trial period for them, a training run, and they’ll get sorely-needed practice in.

They hire Yachi. They open in time, and they get customers, though not many. Bokuto takes a day job at a restaurant to help pay the bills, and Kuroo translates some English literature into Japanese and vice versa for hire in his nights. Bokuto, the better cook, should be the one cooking for the guests, but he’s the only one who’d been able to find a job among the limited options the town holds for them, so he helps Kuroo improve his own culinary ability in the mornings and evenings before and after his shifts. “God bless his endless energy,” Kuroo thinks, his heart brimming with love as the other explains the finer points of a more complicated recipe.

Their first winter in the town they head up, at Terushima’s invitation, to the lodge he works at, and get to see him in action. He’s wearing a sleek winter sport suit that looks expensive as hell, and he swaggers a little as he moves around, until they get his attention, and then he comes bounding up to them, almost a bit like an excited dog, with a whoop and a holler. He shows them around the lodge and buys them lunch on his break, and then insists to try teaching them how to snowboard, or ski, their choice. Bokuto chooses snowboarding, Kuroo skiing (Terushima seems put out at that, and Kuroo supposes with amusement he chose wrongly), and Terushima does his best to teach them the basics. His efforts fruitless after one hour, he goes back to teach his afternoon class, and they decide to loiter and watch him teach. He’s calmer than they expected from a rebel punk, and more authoritative, and he’s surprisingly good with the children in the group.

They put out ads every once in a while, and they slowly build up local knowledge of their existence. They work hard, and it’s slow going, but eventually they get more customers. They finally manage to fix up the last few rooms, and their capacity expands. Yachi is a hardworking little champion, and in the evenings, on the days she can stay late, Kuroo helps tutor her in preparation for her entrance exams (she’s brilliant, clever, and innovative, and Kuroo laughs at the idea of her getting anything less than a scholarship to even a good school, but her mother is overbearing and Hitoka, sweet, and likely anxious even by nature, is riddled with insecurity, so Kuroo is happy to help assuage her fears any way he can). Bokuto sometimes sits in while they study and watches, leaning in, and his frequent gasps and exclamations of incredulity and praise earn laughs and blushes from her, and snickers, eye-rolls, and rebuttals of “Shut up, go do something useful” from Kuroo as he shoves him away by the face.

They’re studying one night when Yachi thanks Kuroo again for his help.
“What’s this?” he asks, gasping in an exaggerated manner. “I told you to stop thanking me.” The first thirty times were more than enough, and he’s told her so.
“I know,” she says, “It’s just that—”
“What?” he asks, goading.
She pauses, working up her courage. “I think you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met,” Yachi says.
“Well,” he replies, regrowing his grin once his shock’s worn off, “that’s flattering, because you are definitely the smartest person I’ve ever met.” He manages to reply with his usual lazy smirk and drawl, but, unused to being complimented so straightforwardly,  he can’t quite help the blush spreading slightly across his cheeks.
Yachi, for her part, combusts and stammers out Thank Yous and Oh Noes with a crimson face, too shocked to notice how touched her tutor is. Kuroo waits for her to calm down, and then they continue as if nothing happened.

All the while, Kuroo and Bokuto are forced to examine their feelings, which slowly, imperceptibly, have been changing over time. “When did this start?” They ask themselves, ask each other, but neither has the answer; maybe when they hatched this scheme, probably long beforehand. Maybe in high school, even, when they were young and things were simple enough to categorize as deep friendship. Maybe there wasn’t a single point where they crossed the line; there couldn’t have been, they’re sure, with how gradual it all happened. How natural it feels, they realize. They start having a talk one quiet night, but neither can finish it, and words die on their lips as they go back to watching tv. It takes a few days to find the courage to finish.

It’s three years (well, three years and five and a half months, but who’s counting) after it first opened that all the invited guests gather on the house’s front lawn. Officially it’s an engagement-cum-life pledge celebration, and legalized gay marriage is still years away for Japan, but they all know what it’s supposed to be. Yachi’s there, along with the greying librarian her mentor; Terushima is there, filming the reception with a very expensive-looking video camera and a wide, ecstatic grin (when he’s not looking impish and smug, claiming he saw them coming years beforehand); Ushijima too, who, earthen and straightforward but believing in a take-life-as-it-comes philosophy, had become good friends with them and had never bat an eye (surprising them) when they themselves had become something more; along with the many other friends they’ve made in the town, including even a few former guests.

RFA(+V and Saeran) reacting to gamer!MC

_Yoosung_

° we all know that he is a gamer too

° so the more interesting question is, who is the better one?

° regarding LOLOL it´s a matter of fact that he won

° don´t mess with the No. 2 on the Shootingstar-Server

° but there are other games too

° so one day, you were tried of loosing to him, you decided to battle him in Mario Party

° yes MC is a Little Nintendo child

° you brought your Wii over to his place and by the time he noticed your presence you already finished plugging everything in

° “Hi MC why did you bring your Wii over?”

° “I´m tried of you always beating me so today we´ll Play a game of my choice.”

° before he could do or say anything else you already put the Controller inside of him

° he surrendered after only two minigames

° because he was only ever with mouse and keyboardhe was completly lost

° “MC, please let´s stop this.”

° “No, I are GOD!!!” Kira is that you?

° he was at the edge of tears

° “MC please. I admit I lost and you won but please stop being so scary!” ( ˃̩̩⌂˂̩̩ )

° yes, he was crying and yes, it was your fault

° great Job MC..

° “I´m glad you can admit a defeat, honey. I´m going to prepare dinner now. love you.”(´∀`)♡

° you left him Standing there looking like someone who got hit by a blue shell in Mario cart  」( ̄▽ ̄」)


_Jaehee_

° whenever she was away for work you felt lonly in the house

° well, someone has to earn money

° so you found yourself a hobby you could do from your couch

° you bought yourself a Playstation and a couple games

°  the games you enjoyed most were RPGs/JRPGs

° and this MC plays these games to 100%

° who?Me?

° but turning everything on ond off again was just tooo bothersome

° so why not play 24/7 instead?

° that also meant no sleep fro the time being

° Jaehee was away on a buisness trip with Jumin (the closest she´ll ever get to a vacation XD)

° you were at home, playing The Legends of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel

° btw I love that game

° when she returned you were fighting the last boss (for the 4th time or so)

° “MC, what are you doing there?”

° “Playing some games.”

° u don´t say MC

° “And for how Long have you been playing?”

° from your current state she could tell it was quite some time..

° “Dunno, wich day is it?”

° “DAY??!”

° “MC get off the Couch, under the shower and when you´re finished we talk about your game-addiction!” ༼ つ °  ʖ ° ༽つ

° that marked the endof your hobby and you had to find a new one (maybe like painting?)

° poor MC !! ( ≧Д≦)


_Zen_

° he often took you with him to his rehersals

° but since there wasn´t much to do for you, you had to find something to occupy yourself

° good thing you brought your Nintendo and a few games to play with you(*^▽^*)

° these were mostly Jump´n´Run but whatever

° but you were a very…… passionate player

° “You stupid Gumba, go die somwhere else!”

° “Bowser, you Bastard go fuck your turtle wife or something!”

° you were banned from the rehersal

° so what to do now?

° simple: go home, eat a snack and continue gaming

° I´m so proud of you MC!

° Zen´s rehersal took a lot longer than usual thanks to a certain someone, wich caused him to come back at 4AM

° he went into the bedroom only to be greeted by the dimm lights of your console

° “MC are you still playing those games?”

° “Yeah.”

° “Please go to bed and finish it tomorrow.”

° you did but this behaviour of yours stayed for the next few weeks

° get up at 12AM, game till 5AM and then sleep again

° simple life, no problems

° at some point Zen had enough of this

° but every time he took your game away from you, you had it back in no time

° he even went as far as asking Seven to hack that stupid Thing in order for you to stop

° but he said no (⌣_⌣”)

° so he did the last thinghe could think of and unleashed the BEAST

° he came in the bedroom to find you once again playing a game and cursing like hell

° oh, did I mention that he was naked?

° “MC, you have to choose now. me or the games?”

° “Zen, why do you say such stu-”

° you looked up

° then you threw your console away

° the beast won once again(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و


_Jumin_

° at some point he gave in and admitted that it was kind of boring to just sit in the penthouse the whole day

° he let you bring your old X-Box over and you got your own playroom

° yes, playroom, with an X-Box XD

° but when he heard you complaining that there were games you couldn´t Play with the old one he got you a new one

° and a Playstation

° this room beacme your new favourite room besides the bedroom ( ° ʖ °)

° he was glad there was a Thing you enjoyed that much and if you gave even the smallest hint on wnating a new game…

° you got it 3 days before release

° but sooner or later he had to set an end to this

° more or less because you gave those games more attention than him

° when you didn´t evengreet him properly anymore and slept in this Rom he decided it had to be done sooner rather than later

° he was more clever than Zen and didn´t take your stuff away

° he was sneaky

° he was clever

° he was Jumin Han

° and this Jumin Han would make you yourself get tried of these games

° the more games you got, the less fun it was playing

° you played but didn´t felt this satisfying feeling anymore

° so you tryed something new: getting Jumin to play with you

° “Come on Jumin, just one round. Pleeeaaase!!”

° “Okay but than we´ll go to bed. Promise?”

° “Sure.”

° your smile already paid off the soon to be followed torture in his eyes

° you endedn up playing till 1 AM (・_・ヾ

° Jumin discoverd the joy of gamin and enden up int he same hell as you

° but he coulden´t skip wrk and you didn´t want to Play alone anymore

° you made an agreement: no more playing alone for the both of you

° mission succeded, well kinda


_Saeyoung/Seven_

° he didn´t play for fun

° he played to make little children Yoosung cry

° mostly aggro-kiddies in CS:Go

° one day you played a chilled Little round of CS:Go with your friends when you heard the two trigger words

° cyka blyat, rush B

° These words were enough to make you go in rage-mode

° you screamed the only Insults in russian that you knew as loud as you could into your headset

° if you want to know russian insults just google them xD

° after your screaming ended yuo heard somthing fall onto the ground

° it sounded like a human..

° “Seven are you okay?”

° “I am but please don´t scream like that in the microphone.”

° he got of the ground and sat down in his chair once again

° you wondered how loud you screamed that he even fell of the chair

° MC. please use your brain

° you turned around to leave the room and then you saw it

° right on his screen

° it looked like he was in the middle of a CS:Go game, nothing Special but then you saw with who he played

° “ Saeyoung….”

° he looked Kind of confused as if he asked himself what he did wrong this time

° “I brought out the trash, MC!”

° “The only trash to throw out is this cyka sitting infront of me!”

° he catched on, but unfortunately too slow

° “You know how much I hate these damn trolls who aren´t even from russian to begin with.All they ever want is to bother others!!”

° “MC, please calm down!”

° poor Seven, you kept lecturing him for about 2 hours …

° but hey, after that you became the best troll-couple in every online game <3


_V_

° he didn´t care much about games

° mostly because he´s almost blind

° so he didn´t really cared either that you were a very passionate player

° what should he do against it anyway….

° he often sat beside you when you played another game and you kept telling him what happend

° “MC, why did you kill those harpys?”

° “Because they attacked me.” 

° “MC, why did you die?”

° Because I didn´t kill the harpys this time.”

° Mc, why-”

° you had enough of this

° a question every 5 seconds was just too much to handle for you

° think about her concentration V

° “V, please stop asking such obvious stuff. I can´t concentrate when you Keep distracting me.”

° “Oh, okay I´ll Keep quiet from now on.”

° he did

° for about 2 minutes than it started all again

° “MC, why did you kill them?”

° enough is enough

° you turned off everything and went to the kitchen to get something to drink

° “MC, why did you stop?”

° “Because I somehow lost the joy in playing.”

° thank you V

° from now on you only played when he wasn´t around which was almost never but still better than being bothered nonstop


_Saeran_

° since Seven had a far to big TV-Screen, why not enjoy your favourite game on it?

° soon you had plugged everything in and stared fascinated at the Screen

° on said Screen you saw the fictional love of your life : Geralt of Riva (●♡∀♡)

° pls Geralt marry me

° playing Witcher made you frget about time and simply enjoy a great game

° but you also forgot about the non-fictional love of your life: Saeran

° he didn´t like that suprise

° you promised to go and buy ice cream with him and now?

° all you cared about was the stupid game, where a man was riding some horse and killing Monsters

° you didn´t know he was watching you so Yous aid the words that led to your death sentence

° “Geralt, I love you!”

° “MC we have to talk !”

° fuck, he was here

° “Saeran, I didn´t know you were here..”

° he looked pissed

° really pissed

° “MC, first you forget our ice.cream date and then you just say I love You to a fictional character

° “Saeran he is nothing more than that to me, fictional.Don´t take it like that you know you´re the only one for me.”

° “You know you have to make up for it right?”

° “I know.”

° so you payed for ice-cream and some snacks

° you had to take the console back to wherever it was before and apologized a million times to Saeran

° you were so exhauted at some point you just fell asleep on Saeran´s shoulder

° he wouldn´t admit it but as he heard you mumble something about him being the only one for you….

° he forgave you <3


That´s it for this one, I hope you love Geralt as much as I do and also enjoyed reading.  o(^▽^)o

If you did, leave alike or a comment, that makes me as happy as getting a shiny Mew XD

Also if you have some requests or whatever don´t hesitate and send it to me      o(≧∇≦o)

Shining Agency in Restaurant Service

This idea is heavily based off of my own personal 3 year work experience. I work at a Hotel/ Resort and Spa in the Food and Beverage department. We have 4 types of places to eat on property year-round and 1 seasonal: a bar/lounge, a fine dining restaurant (where I work mainly), a sports bar/family friendly restaurant, a cafe/bistro and seasonally, a pool bar. 

Some of these may or may not be based off of me and my real life coworkers lmaoooo


UPPER MANAGEMENT

Shining Saotome is the general manager. He’s everyone’s boss. He discretly reads his employee’s name tags and casually says their name as if he really remembers making them feel important and special for the time being. He’s hardly ever seen until something big is happening. He’s both feared and loved.


THE SPORTS BAR & GRILL STAFF

Tomochika is the cute, charming hostess getting hit on by nearly ever table she seats. Old or young. She often goes to toe to toe with Ranmaru in the kitchen when he’s complaining about getting seating too often or not enough. She’s a great multitasker and the boss is grateful to have her on the team. She’s often asked to help out Otoya whenever he gets weeded out.

Syo is the server that’s always getting requested by regulars, he’s mentioned in nearly every good review the restaurant gets and is always on the receiving end of some absurdly large tips. Other staff find themselves slightly jealous of him, yet they all still can’t find a reason to actually hate the guy. He connects with all of his guests on a personal level and makes them feel right at home. He’s the manager’s go-to guy in situations of Recovery.

Ranmaru is the server that isn’t exactly well-rounded when it comes to sports related discussions with his tables. Sports bars are where the money’s at if you’re not going to go for fine dining. He knows just enough to give some vague answers about favorite teams. He spends just enough time necessary at his tables to make a good tip and give good service. No more; No less. This isn’t his only job. He NEVER remembers regulars.

Otoya is the clumsy busboy who’s broken so many dishes at this point that the manager might seriously consider having it deducted from his paycheck. On busy nights, he’s a mess but he tries his best! If he’s not running around the floor sweating making sure he’s keeping up or cleaning the half eaten burger he dropped on the way to the dish room, he’s in the back panicking about the amount of people waiting at the hostess stand.

Ryuuya is the charismatic, diffuser of all ticking timebombs aka the restaurant’s manager. He’s always prepared to break up an argument between staff, console his frantic busboy and protect his hostess from drunken harassment. Although he is the manager he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. He’s a server in times of need, bouncer and babysitter all in one. All of the staff loves him. He’s certain that the place will fall apart without him so he never misses a day.


THE FINE DINING RESTAURANT STAFF

Haruka is the meek, but shockingly firm hostess that has been doing this job long enough that guests can no longer get over on her. ‘You don’t have a reservation? Then I am afraid you will have to wait until we have seating available which will be in the next 45 minutes. Well, if you’re not interested in waiting we do have a restaurant that operates under a first come first serve basis. I will be happy to show you to it.’

Camus is the bartender and sommelier that has never spilled a thing in all his years of experience and hates when other employees go being his bar. He’s very particular about the way the things should be done and wants everyone to follow suit. He may be a tight ass but he’s very good at his job and all the guests love him. In fact, guests are always mesmerized by his elegance when presenting a bottle of wine fresh from the cellar. There has never been a time that he’s done a wine presentation and not receive a crisp bill of some sort.

Masato is the well mannered server that is only working to get out of the house not because he needs the money. This is his first job. Guests have noticed his slight hesitation and try to get over on him a lot. He’s very passionate about giving great service so he’s heartbroken whenever a guest complains about anything. He has a hard time balancing out his section so he generally gets seated a bit less than the other servers.

Tokiya is the server that the boss uses for Recovery. He’s the least likely to make mistakes as he has this industry down to a science. The kitchen loves him, the guests love him, the boss loves him and the hostess loves him. He can handle just about anything thrown at him so long as he’s given a few minutes heads up. He almost never goes to the clock at the end of the night empty handed. 

Ren is the unbelievably attractive server that’s almost always getting requested by that one group of rich, horny, divorced older women that live 10 minutes away in a suburban neighborhood nearby. He gets scouted by an agent monthly, a guest slides their room key to him weekly and he gets a new cell number nightly. Not only is he good looking but he’s also extremely knowledgeable about the food he sales. Once he begins to speak to his table passionately, he’s able to sale whatever he wants. He is non-mistakenly the #1 bread winner of the restaurant. People practically throw their money at him. Even if he fudged up their order a couple of times. It amazes everyone.

Ringo is the beautiful master of problem solving or the restaurant manager. He is able to calm down even the most stubborn of guests. The general manager loves to send recovery guests to his restaurant because he knows there will be nothing left to worry about. He is close to his staff and very nurturing but he can be very strict when he needs to be. There’s is no one on property that can run this restaurant like he does.


THE BISTRO STAFF

Natsuki is the chef that it full of fresh ideas but constantly gets them rejected due to not following Standard. In the beginning of his time working here, he’d throw things together and the food quality numbers went down but after he’d gotten a bit more experience under his belt the food has never been better now that he actually follows recipes. He’s friendly and he’s easy to satisfy. Hearing a guest compliment his food will make him happy for a week. He loves being asked to go out and chat with guests in the manager’s stead.

Ai is the capable barista that makes coffee better than anything you’ve ever had in your life. He’s very knowledgeable about everything being sold throughout the shop. When a guest is stumped about what to order they can always ask him for recommendations and he’ll never steer them wrong. He’s quick and never leaves the guests waiting too long for a drink. In times of equipment malfunctions, he knows exactly how to solve the problem. It saves the shop hundreds in profit loss and repairs.

Cecil is the slightly awkward cashier with an adorable accent. He’s always happy to greet guests with a big, welcoming smile. Although he may fumble his words from time to time the guests adore him. Especially the younger girls that come in. He always pretends to not realize that he’s being hit on but he notices it and couldn’t be happier that it was happening to him. He has a bit of a short attention span and often has to ask guests to repeat their orders.

Reiji is the versatile manager that always jumps in where ever he’s needed on busy mornings. He started as a the chef years ago but was offered the manager position recently. He is still learning how to be the boss of everyone and still have fun with everyone. The bistro is the place on property that has the least amount of problems so he hardly ever has to be a hard ass. He likes to go out and check on the guests as their finishing up their drinks/food and is always thrilled to pass on the good comments to his staff in efforts to keep the morale high.

Ignis x Reader Fic: Next To You

I’ve been taking a hiatus writing fics, but after reading so many others and obsessively playing the game (I’ve gotten quite good at fishing. Caught the Vespar Gar and the MF-ing Leige!), the bug bit like like a fish to a lure.

Anyway, here’s a thing for you to read. If it’s popular/demanded enough, I’ll continue writing it. This was my first stab at writing a reader fic, so the (Y/N) here is female, but feel free to change it to whatever you want in your head ^_^;

Also tagging @chocobro-daydreams and @chocobrodreamteam, hoping I’d get some kinda reblog or something ^_^;;;

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Ignis sighed heavily into his highball glass of whiskey; wine wouldn’t cut it after today. The light-brown haired man picked up his glass and sipped from it, letting the peaty, hot spirit coat his the insides of his mouth and throat. His attention then turned to the opening of the door, seeing a familiar face.

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Friendship Is Constant

Written for @whispersandwhiskerburn Much Ado About SPN Challenge for her 1.5K Milestone. Angel, I am so sorry, I am not a big Shakespeare fan, so I hope you like this!

Word Count: 1042

Warnings: Language, talk of Hell, death, nothing graphic, not too much really

A/N: Not beta’d so any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone.  This is set in S12 before 12x12

Originally posted by weallneedcastiel

Sure, Dean had friends when he was a child, but Dean hasn’t been a child since November 2, 1983. Dean hasn’t been a child since the night his mother died and his father lead them haphazardly through a life on the road. Sam is, and always will be his best friend.

Yes, they had “hunter friends” but they weren’t really friends, they were allies at best. With the exception of Bobby, who was more of a dad to them than John ever was, they had Ellen, Jo, Charlie and Kevin, but look how that all turned out. They all died bloody, at the hands of evil.

It wasn’t until Castiel came along and even then, it took some time for the brothers to really be able to trust him. After all the business with the souls and the Leviathans, Dean spent a year in Purgatory with Cas, mostly looking for him, praying for him. It wasn’t until later; after Dean had returned with Benny’s soul, reunited with Sam that Cas returned to them. Still, it would take more time for the brothers to allow Cas back into their fold.

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half step and a tumble

Title: half step and a tumble
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4k
Summary: Dan doesn’t have a date, and Phil won’t answer his phone. [Read on AO3]
Notes: I started writing this last week when it looked like Dan was going to be in Seattle by himself overnight. Naturally, they screwed me by not even staying apart the full twenty four hours so this is reality based tour fic with a slight AU twist.

They don’t kiss goodbye.

They’ll only be apart for the day. Dan has a flight to catch to Seattle and a date with the Guild Wars offices, which he’s been gleeful about for weeks now. Phil’s staying behind and traveling the more scenic route with the bus so he can work on tour details that need to be finalized before the next round of ticket sales, which he feels decidedly less excitement for. He’s been good about it though, letting Dan ramble excitedly all he wanted and not complaining. (Much.)

They’ll only be apart a day. No time at all, really.

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MAYDAY, MAYDAY, ALL SHIPS AT SEA

This is the USS Horrible Unending Nightmare, colloquially known as the Wolf 359 Big Bang! I apologize for how long it’s taken me to get this set up, so let’s get down to business


WRITER SIGN-UPS ARE OPEN! 

The link is HERE, and if you responded to the interest poll from a week ago, you’ll find it’s pretty much the same deal. Please include your tumblr username so I can confirm with you that you’re all signed up, what sort of writing you’ll be doing (and I’ll get to that in a second), and what characters/ships you’ll be writing. When it comes time for artists to sign up (a couple weeks from now) it’ll be very, very helpful for them to pick their writer. 

In response to the poll and because I’ve heard this was the standard at another fandom writing event, I am putting a minimum of 500 words. Additionally, because this is all going down in the span of two months, I’m capping it at 15k for the written versions. If you really, really, really, really need to go over 15k, please consider making it a podfic instead (see below).


WHAT’S OUR TIMELINE? 

The plan was for everything to be ready for me to post on June 12th, to coincide with the start of the new season, and as far as responses on the interest poll go, that seemed to be fine. If the need arises, the deadline will be moved, but here’s how it’s going to look now:

4/7/17 - 4/12/17: Writer sign-ups! Please fill out the poll and I will get back to you to confirm, and please start thinking about what you want to write!

4/26/17: Ideas are due! Writers, this means please send me (through message or inbox) a brief summary of what your fic is about (”Person X and Person Y are going to do Thing A in Place Z”). You can send me this any time between sign-ups and the deadline but they need to be in by the 26th because

4/27/17 - 5/3/17: Artist sign-ups! I’ll have a blind list of plot summaries for you to chose from, so please indicate your top three when you fill out the form! It’s first come, first served but I will try to match you to at least one of your picks!

5/11/17: Rough drafts are due from the writers! The artists need these so they can read through them, get a feel for the fic, and figure out what to draw! At this point writers and artists can be in contact and figure out what they want to do if they want, and if there are any major plot points that change between the rough draft and the final, please let me and your artist know!

6/11/17: Final drafts and artwork are due, posting will begin Monday, June 12th!


ZAHRA, HOW THE HELL IS THIS GOING TO WORK?!

I don’t know! We’re figuring it out together!

No, I’m mostly kidding. In anticipation of questions, I’ve tried to answer as many as I can think of, and if you have any more, please send me a message!

What counts as writing? 

  • “Traditional” fanfiction (prose, poetry, etc)
  • Scripts
  • Podfics of your own fics!

Other such write-y things! We’re the fandom of a podcast and I’ve seen a lot of really cool script-style fics, and podfics seems to come with the territory. I am going to be a stickler for the writers to podfic their own works, because

What counts as art?

  • Digital/traditional artwork
  • Fanmixes
  • Videos
  • Edits!
  • Moodboards!
  • Podfics of other people’s fics!

Many things! Again, because we are the fandom of a podcast, there are a lot of options. The only thing I’m going to be a huge stickler about is you must have the author’s permission before you make a podfic of their work. If you submit something and you think I won’t contact the original author, you underestimate my wrath. It’s also, y’know, a common courtesy to check with people before you play with their things.

Zahra, how the flying fuck are we supposed to pull this off in two months?

I know! Two months is hellishly short, and this all came about from a chat on a Discord server about two weeks ago, so it’s really is a “took it and ran with it” sort of thing! However, hopefully here are a few things you can keep in mind that will hopefully make it easier. Do you have a fic that’s already in progress that you were planning on posting anyway? That could count! Now you’ll finish the fic and have cool fanart for it as well! The only caveat there is to be sure that that work hasn’t been posted anywhere else in its entirety (WIPs and snippets and whatever are totally fine). Want to collaborate with another artist or writer and put out a piece together? Have an eldritch god living in your laundry room who’ll do the writing for you, if only you’ll provide them with more pipe cleaners and fake flowers to make a mortal form with?

Also, in the event that there’s a heavy skew (more fanfic than fanart, or the reverse) I’ll be stepping in and other folk too if they want to to pinch-hit, mostly likely by podficcing their works or figuring out some more fics for the artists to work off of.

Finally, if for some reason you sign up and then realize you can’t do it anymore, please let me know! No judgement, shit happens, please just communicate so I can fill your slot. I’ll be checking in periodically and will announce those dates soon.

ONCE MORE, THE RULES!

  • Min of 500 words, max of 15k
  • No theme! Write about whatever!
  • Please keep an eye on deadlines!
  • You must get permission before using someone’s work!
  • Have fun!
  • Don’t burn the house down!

I’ll answer more questions as they come up, and feel free to reach out on my personal @saekal

Here you are, @pokeharvest - Ooh, you should write a Scotty one where the reader is in engineering and names all the little parts of the ship, and at first Scotty is like “woah and people think I’m nuts about the Enterprise” but then he finds himself joining in on it, confusing everyone else

Word Count: 2007

Author’s Note: I took a few liberties with your request. I hope you enjoy it! PS, TOS Enterprise is approximately ⅓ the size of AOS Enterprise. Despite the fact that my blueprints allow for 250 crew on the Enterprise, TOS Bones once said there was 430-ish people on the Enterprise, so there’s obviously some wiggle room in interpreting size. That means AOS Enterprise could have a crew of 750-1200, depending, but I couldn’t find a definitive answer. Also, aside from size, no new specs on AOS Enterprise. So I had to do a little faking. The swimming pool and bowling alley are totally on the blueprints I have of TOS Enterprise though, they just have nothing really to do with the work of an engineer. Also, I hope I didn’t vilify poor Appleton too much. I’ve been dealing with a bully at work, and it just… bubbled over into the story. P.S. The best part of this was trying to find a song about how currents work, and re-discovering School House Rock’s Electricity.


“Mr. Scott, this ship is huge. I’m worried I’m going to get lost,” one of the other newly assigned grads blinked her eyelashes in a show of wide-eyed innocence that made you want to gag. Montgomery Scott, Chief Engineer on the U.S.S. Enterprise, quirked an eyebrow and turned to face her.

“Aye, lass. She’s a little over 700 metres in length -”

“725, sir,” you interrupted. You couldn’t help yourself. You’d spent most of your last year at the Academy fantasizing about being assigned to the fleet’s flagship. Studying the Enterprise specs had been your geeky little secret hobby. Stepping off the shuttle onto her had felt like coming home. There was nothing out of place. It looked exactly as you’d imagined, you suspected largely in part thanks to the handsome Scotsman standing at the head of your Engineering bay orientation. His blue eyes flicked over to assess you, and the hint of a smile lit his face.

“I love the enthusiasm of new grads,” he grinned. “Thank you, Ensign?”

“Y/L/N,” you provided. Ensign Eyelashes glared at you for the rest of the orientation, obviously angry that you’d distracted Mr. Scott’s attention.

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A Tranquil Melody

a little fluff to help with the angst we have from the last chapter

thank you to @summylise who helped beta this fic. it was a mess. she turned it into amazingness.

read on ff.net

rated: general

characters: natsu, lucy, mentions of jude heartfilia and human!igneel

summary: silence is reassuring when you’re with the one you adore

type: fluffy one-shot

word count: 1867


Natsu was always good at being silent. From a young age, he was able to sneak things away from his older brother that he wanted and keep them without him finding out–something that he was quite proud of himself for until his parents found them. Natsu kept his lips tight as he heard his parents arguing, and listened to music on the ride to his father’s home where he would stay for the remainder of his life. Despite the pain, he was quiet and played his piano when the sad times arose and mostly kept to himself around other people, only inputting words that would help continue the conversation.

He played the piano every morning before school and before he went to bed, and he found himself one day getting better and better. Proud of himself, he began to play a Mozart song which he knew he could perform quite well. The song was one of his favorites, and one his father taught him when he was young. It went on for a while until he realized someone was watching him.

In the corner of his eye, he saw a young blonde woman around the same age as he peeking through her blinds in awe. He stopped playing and turned to study her, but she was gone.

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The Convention Connection - Where It All Began

Here it is, the next installment of The Convention Connection. This was a one shot originally written for Nicole, @iwantthedean, and has taken on a life of its own and is now an ongoing series. I hope y’all like it.

There is no disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction, please regard it as such.

Haven’t read it - CATCH UP HERE and fall into the rabbit hole

Word Count: 1900-ish

Warnings: none really, like SUPER FLUFFY (Like I am going to give it away!)

A/N: I actually have SO much to say for this installment, that it will actually be two parts. Beta’d by the infinitely patient @just-another-busy-fangirl. Thanks Laura! You are amazing and I love you!

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They’re Not You (Part 3)

Steve Rogers x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: As a SHIELD agent, you spent a lot of time working with Steve Rogers and became best pals. When he decided he wanted find a place in Brooklyn, you offered to let him move into the spare bedroom of your apartment. After he confesses his love to you and the two of you start spending your nights in each other’s beds, how long can you keep it a secret from the team? And just how much do you mean to Steve?

Character(s): reader, Steve Rogers, a bit of Natasha, Bucky, and Coulson

Warnings: none, fluff, stealth suit

Word Count: 4448

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My Thank-You to the BSD Fandom

Hello everyone!!

So, it is April 29th, 2017, and it has been 1 whole year since I joined the BSD fandom!! Isn’t that crazy!? I mean, technically the anniversary of when I joined the fandom was the uhh… 16th, I think?? But my friends and I are celebrating it together today on Chuuya’s birthday so I’m making my little “speech” today.

Anyways, this post is basically going to be a long post detailing my experiences in this fandom and the friends that I’ve made since joining because I have a lot of love for this fandom and I want to tell you all how much you mean to me.

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