i love that food is a serious business in this show

the signs introverted vs. extroverted

Aries:
 introverted: shy but bubbly and really nice, likes to spend a lot of time with those they know and love, doesn’t like to leave the house too much, might be lazy
 extroverted: loud, might seem rude, but really they’re just honest, isn’t afraid to speak up for themselves ot those they love, alway doing something, loves adventures

Taurus:
 introverted: very reserved, will want to you to do the first step, generally just doesn’t like meeting new people and likes to spend time indoors, most likely a music lover
 extroverted: optimistic fluff balls, friends with EVERYONE, emotional but positive thinkers, love to go out a lot, especially near nature

Gemini:
 introverted: might seem kind of distant, doesn’t like to talk about their emotions even when they’re sad, emotional, but really good with children
 extroverted: very intelligent and quick thinking, comes up with the best ideas and solutions to problems, talks to many people and has a lot of friends, likes to be busy, work on something

Cancer:
 introverted: shy, but smiles quite a lot, still able to make friends easily, but uses earbuds a lot and likes to have someone they know around them most of the time
 extroverted: liked by everyone, makes people laugh, likes to spend time with children (and children love them), natural story teller

Leo:
 introverted: resting bitch face, actually cares a lot though, might not have problems with going outside or anything but doesn’t talk to many people
 extroverted: talks to pretty much ANYONE, big and kind heart, buys gifts for friends, does the ebst sleepovers/ parties

Virgo:
 introverted: doesn’t like to go outside too often, probably looks like they don’t even want to talk to you, actually cares though, seems busy, always working on something, perfectionist
 extroverted:
kind of weird, talks a lot, but often it’s also about some serious topics, curious person and likes to learn, judgemental, but can appreceate things as well

Libra:
 introverted: thinks a lot, home oriented, sensitive, will be nice to you even if they don’t like you, super shy, usually good at playing musical instrument
 extroverted: fearless (except spiders), isn’t afraid to do pretty much anything, nothing can stop them, likes to flirt, probably really popular among their friends, kind to everyone

Scorpio:
 introverted: talkative, uses sarcasm or has offensive sense of humour, really confident in themselves, isn’t afraid to speak up, actually very intelligent most of the time
 extroverted: v reserved, quiet, looks tough, actually cares a lot, might complain often, home anf family oriented, sometimes tends to overthink

Sagittarius:
 introverted: looks serious and professional, hardworking person, cares a lot about their appereance and the way they show themselves, nervous easily
 extroverted: very competitive, loud, they’re ‘everywhere’, looks confident, is confident, being in love with them is one huge adventure

Capricorn:
 introverted: the very definition of socially awkward, really doesn’t talk much, usually passionate about something and they spend a lot of time doing it, the biggest ovethinkers you’ll ever meet
 extroverted: might look mean or selfish, but they’re literally the funniest people ever, pays for food, loves to go to parties, cares about their appereance a lot

Aquarius:
 introverted: most likely good at math, really doesn’t talk much, doesn’t like to leave the house too much, has their own world, might tend to  be a bit naive, confused 25/8
 extroverted: one of the most talkative people you’ll ever meet, super curious, likes to go on adventures and hang out with their friends a lot, kind of nerds, but really sweet

Pisces:
 introverted: people still love them, looks tough but is very emotional and sensitive, hardworking, 98% of the time, they have something with themselves that reminds them of home
 extroverted: leader material, likes to be the centre of the attention, amazing acting skills, makes friends easily, smiles a lot

BEST FRIEND

This word now and days can mean two or more things: 1.) someone you can count on in the time of need. 2.) someone you can be your crazy ass around with and share memes that you know might end both of your asses in hell for laughing at them. And 3.) someone you can call on when a bitch think your still playing games in 2017

Here is my opinion on the Mars Signs, as BEST FRIEND

ARIES MARS: 


Stereotypical, yes, you can call their crazy ass to a fight. But don’t bother trying to tell them to ‘fucking chill’ because they are the ‘head strong’ type of best friend and are not passive to defend themselves against even their closest friends’ bullshit. Will explode on you for doing them wrong, or saying/doing some dumb shit. 

TAURUS MARS:


This is that mom in your group of friends who always seems to have their life together and won’t break down, ever. Advice is always given but if they see it’s just going through one ear to the other, your on your own. And once they cut you out of their life, that’s it. No catching up again in two years, no happy birthdays on your Facebook feed, not even a hello to your mother who keeps asking about them. The ‘once I’m done, I’m done’ best friend.

GEMINI MARS:


Thinks they are always right and that anyone who disagrees is below them. There is no point arguing with them, even if they are in the wrong, they will still try to win the argument. Thinks they are better than you and will prove themselves til the day they die. Many find them annoying and will stop talking to them, after a few conversations. Will give opinion, even if not asked. But if you can handle this and or love a good mind prodding, this person is for you. ‘Smart ass’ type of best friend.

CANCER MARS:


Thinking this one won’t be as bad? Your wrong. This is the type to double cross your ass on the court and act like everything is okay when you break your ankles. They feel a lot and will constantly need to be told that yes, you value them and the friendship. Moody and emotional, sometimes you might wonder why you stick around them. But then they just surprise you with some shit and you forget about it. The ‘thrower of shade behind your back shade but will also buy you food to make up for it’ best friend.

LEO MARS:


Insult them or their interests, get ready for a semi-dramatic show of a mix between ‘coming for your edges’ and ‘shut up, your just hating’. Not sure if they know that yes they too, have faults. No one is perfect. Well, they seem to think they are. Loyal af, at times. Has a hard time letting some things go, must defend til the end. ‘Sometimes-annoying-but-you-still-fuck-with-them’ type of best friend.

VIRGO MARS: 


Honestly, this one is complicated. Can range from being a perfectionist over their life that was fine five days ago but now some bullshit popped up, and they over-whelmed themselves over some tiny shit. Something always pisses them off, and or makes them annoyed. Always knows how to fix everyone else’s lives, but can barely fix their own. Will be distant and get moody when things don’t go their way. The ‘I told your ass that would happen’ best friend. 

LIBRA MARS:


That one person in your group of friend who thinks they have their life together, and will put on the show that they do. But- they procrastinate on everything.  Probably be the same one to be late on graduation day because they were hungry. Will seem clingy sometimes, but its because they care. Or so I’ve been told. Honestly, the friendship is gonna be a semi-cycle of you always reminding them to do something or the other. The ‘I’m more worried about you then myself’ type of best friend. 

SCORPIO MARS:


Your never really sure if this is just a friendship or something more, they don’t really let out much on their own behalf. Yet, will let you vent to them anytime, quietly collecting your dirty laundry just in cause you decide to pull the wrong move and betray their trust. Might get jealous of outsiders coming between the two of you, but will cover it to deal with later.  A good hider of emotions behind a friendly mask. The ‘okay, we will see’ type of best friend.  

SAGITTARIUS MARS:


Might impulsively do something that you both regret later but remember it as a good memory. Will get in fights/arguments but will forget about them and move on the next day. Always down to do some wild shit, but also talk about things that are not considered appropriate to talk about to other people. They tend to get aggressive with certain things, sometimes more than less at times. The ‘wild and kinda-serious’ or ‘good mix-ish’ type of best friend. 


CAPRICORN MARS:


Almost too serious and your always trying to cheer them up. Some shit is happening or they are worrying about some shit with someone close to them- worry, stress and won’t confess for them. Rather suffer in the shadows than deal with people getting in their business. Will go through the five stages, and in the end, just say “it’s life” and shrug while you didn’t even know what the fuck is going on. Kinda gotta tip-toe around them, but once your friends with them, y’all are friends. The ‘don’t worry about me, worry and improve yourself’ type of best friends.


AQUARIUS MARS:


Not exactly passive, but is not willing nor wants to deal with your bullshit. Does not care for your opinion about their life, because they know what they need to improve on. But doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, so they listen to your rants over some guy/girl who is playing games with you or how your so called ‘friends’ keep trashing you like, ??? What do you want them to do? They’ll listen, and give their two cents, but besides that- don’t come at them with a problem with no plans of finding a solution. The ‘honestly, couldn’t care less but whatever ’ type of best friend.


PISCES MARS: 


Seems moody and is, their mood shifts with the environment around them. One person gets mad at some shit, they get mad at some shit. Worried about everyone’s opinions about them and tries to not offend everyone. Eventually learns that people will hate for no reason and for some dumb reasons. Blows off irrational emotions instead of dealing with them. But their someone you can come to trust, eventually. The ‘I’m ready when you are’ or ‘a gauge between heaven and hell’ type of best friend. 

KAZAKHSTAN 101 OR HOW TO OTABEK

THERE YOU GO YURI ON ICE FANDOM.

Disclaimer: this is in no way a fully comprehensive guide. This is just me trying to put together basics for people who are unfamiliar with Kazakhstan/Kazakhs to start their writing/research.

I am an ethnic Kazakh female, citizen of Kazakhstan, Almaty, bisexual, upper middle class, currently in college in the US. My experience is in no way representative of all kazakhs and Kazakhstan citizens. However, I think it’s pretty close to Otabek’s.

This is really, really long and kinda convoluted, but if you can bear it –– welcome!

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An Introvert's guide to dealing with extroverted personalities

SUBMITTED by anonymous

ExTJs

- Don’t let them boss you around. Whether it’s literally your boss, a spouse a family member or a friend, ExTJs naturally take control over things and more often than not….people. Especially introverts because they make less “noise” so to speak. It’s not always meant as a bad thing, in many cases they think they’re doing you a service. But let them know that you have your own ideas and thoughts, they can very responsive to that.

- Show confidence. In regards to the last point, they will especially be prone to walking over you if you look lost or doubtful. Again, not necessarily bad in their eyes, they may think they are helping you. But if you show you have quiet confidence and can stand on your own two feet, they will respect that. 

- Respect their lavish lifestyles. Te-doms are often naturally successful at life, mostly in academics and business. And likewise they also LOVE to show off their success, through materialism, appearance, social status etc. (especially ENTJs) It’s not always shallow, it’s really what they like. Realize that in many cases, they actually…..did work really hard to earn that stuff. So check to see if your disdain about this isn’t actually the jealousy bug.

- Listen and appreciate their advice. Te-Doms are just really good at helping you out if you approach with any kind of problem. But yes, they do have a tendency to talk about you as if you were them. Keep that in mind.

ExFJs

- Understand that they have a hard time with “reserved” individuals. This is the bane of all ExFJs. They like to communicate, get you out there, and sometimes force you into uncomfortable situations. Understand that not only do they mean no harm by that, it’s actually because they have an interest in you, otherwise they wouldn’t bother. Be open minded while at the same time reminding them that you like your personal space. 

- They like to talk. If you have to deal with an ExFJ and hope that the two of you will just stay quiet, tough luck. Prepare for at least minimal conversation. 

- Respect everything they openly share. Pictures of kids, food and various events and messages flooding your Facebook wall. This is especially a strain for IxTx types, but understand that yes, ExFJs do indeed like attention, that stuff also means something to them. Either validate it or refrain from criticizing it.

- Be very careful with humor. The raunchy and offensive type of course, especially if it’s about something or someone that really matters to them. Fe usually hates that. I once replied with a joke on an ENFJs’ political status on Facebook. That was the last I ever heard of her. Keep it more PG and light-hearted with ExFJs. Many other types will appreciate your R-rated humor. 

ESxPs

- They are intense! You have been warned. If you like peace, quiet and taking it slow, then by all means stay away from them as even ISxPs may find them overwhelming. If you want a good time however, they are your go-to people. 

- They know what’s “in”. Look no further for fashion advice or what’s trending. Many extroverts are keen on this, but none like ExSPs

- Speak directly. Metaphors, being passive-aggressive and worst of all “you should know…” will drive them absolutely up the wall. Yet at the same time they’re really good at picking up on you so… You got something to say, say it clearly and quickly, that’s their communication style. Don’t mice words, especially with ESTPs.

- Do not lecture them about being impulsive. Chances are they already know that or they don’t care. Either appreciate that aspect of them, offer advice or stay out, but being a disciplinary parent to them will not work.

ENxPs

- They are mentally stimulating as well as exhausting. You INxPs may be able to keep up with them but for you other introverts, be prepared for rapid-fire questioning and topic shifting. But by all means, you can halt them when they open up a topic or debate that interests you. Just be prepared that this said topic, will also be dissected quickly on all fronts.

- Respect their flight of ideas. As an introvert, you need time to process things, they don’t. Do NOT tell an ENxP “Hey…weren’t you supposed to do what you said you would do?” Unless it was a contractual commitment or something of that nature. That irks them. Ideas are fun for them to shoot out, but follow-up can be another issue altogether. When they are serious about something, you’ll know, don’t worry. Actions will speak louder than words.

- Religion and politics are NOT off limits! This is sacred and personal to you? Though luck, ENxPs will put it on the table sooner or later. ENxPs will most likely bust you open and ask all the details of your personal life, sometimes even moreso then Fe-Doms. So either be ready, embracing of that, or let them kindly know what’s off limits. 

- They have a “geek” side. Especially ENFPs. Respect and appreciate that and please don’t knock it. “You’re too old for….” will absolutely bring out their anger. Dom Si and Fi are usually good at respecting that because they know about sentimentality, but other introverts need to thread lightly. 

Note that many of these points are also valid for extrovert on extrovert. But this was written for all introverts’ processing downtime and reservations vs. extroverts’ rapid assessment of their surroundings and better ease with people in mind. 

If one of you extroverts want to do the opposite guide, be my guest.

La douleur exquise Pt.2 (M)

La douleur exquise: The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have.

Summary: You’ve been helplessly in love with your brother’s best friend all your life, but he can’t see you as anything other than a little sister.

Pairing: Wonho x Reader x Jungkook (not a threesome but messy as hell)

Word Count: 6.1k

Genre(s): Angst, smut

Part 1 here

A/N: Thank you guys for being so patient with me on this update. I really hope I did it justice and hope you enjoy! (& don’t kill me I’m sorry)

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Hotter Than The Pizza - Smut

Originally posted by jugheadjones

Author: @writing-obrien and @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Dave Hodgman/Reader
Words: 5,504
AN: This fic was going to just be Chloe’s but then I jumped in to help her and it became a collab. You’re welcome. There’s just not enough Hodgman stories in the world.  Contains masturbation (both), Oral (female receiving), ‘Skype Sex’, inspired by Chloe’s truly embarrassing events at a pizza restaurant, except hers didn’t end this well. 




She couldn’t really be counted as the ‘new’ waitress anymore, seeing as she’d worked there for four months now. But in those four months business had spiked. People just adored her service.

Parents admired how well she treated the children.

Kids loved when she brought over crayons and drawings she’d printed herself.

Staff took advantage of the fact that she did many tables at once, leaving them to stand idle and chat while still getting the wages.

Teenage girls relished in the times that she would make chat and give advice on everything from lipstick shades to what has the most or few calories in.

Teenage boys simply came for the skirt that she wore showed just enough to tease without being slutty, her legs on show and her top fitted, pens lined along her top pocket.

Dave, however, had entirely different reasons for being here. He loved how her smile lit up when she was left a good tip on a bill. He loved how her hair fell perfectly around her face when she would let it down after shutting hours, cleaning the tables and singing her heart out to the music blasting. He loved that she worked overtime at the little shop, so that he could casually swing back and say hi.

He loved her.

He also hated that he was so sentimental about it and he couldn’t just think like the rest of the male population thought about her. Which he hated too.

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Caramel Macchiato

Thank you so much for your love of The Project!

Sorry for the wait! The first draft of this ended up not being the greatest so I rewrote it which took a while. Anywho! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3959

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: Strong language. If this makes you uncomfortable do not read.

Description: Your best friend, Yoongi, tells you one day that he is interested in a girl who started working at BigHit recently. Being the selfless friend you are, you set aside your feelings and help Yoongi out with his newfound feelings. 

Originally posted by notjustaphase

(We do not own this gif. Credit to notjustaphase.)


“Yoongi! Hurry up!” you called from your blanket huddle on the couch. You had been watching a movie together, but Yoongi had left to make more popcorn. You had won rock paper scissors, leaving you with the luxury of staying in your warm pile while you waited for snacks to appear before you.

“Do you expect the popcorn to be done in under a minute? Practice some patience, woman,” Yoongi called back. You groaned, feeling your stomach begin growling. Movie marathons with Yoongi were so long that oftentimes the lazy pair of you would forget to eat.

You zoned out as you stared at the paused TV, your stomach occasionally growling. Suddenly the buttery scent of popcorn filled the room, prompting you to turn your head towards the dark haired boy carrying the popcorn bowl.

“Took you long enough!” you said while shoving your hand greedily into the bowl before your best friend had even sat back down. He gently smacked your hand away, making some yellow, buttery pieces of goodness fall to the floor.

“You are cleaning my floor mister,” you demanded as Yoongi settled down next to you. He groaned, setting the bowl next to him with an amused smirk. You chuckled and reached for the remote to resume the movie you were watching.

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Free Condoms With Purchase

Summary: Derek is an ace guy working at a sex shop, and he has a bit of a crush on one of the regulars (who he might have come out to, oops).

Notes: Written for the Aro/Ace Wolves Mini Bang! (On AO3)

I forgot to add that this fic now has some lovely art! Check it out!


Derek looks up from his calculus textbook when he hears the bell jingle, and he has to suppress a smile. This guy’s a regular. He usually comes in every couple of weeks, awkward and overly-enthusiastic. He gets in to animated conversations with other patrons, flails a lot, and almost always manages to knock something off a shelf.

And he’s cute.

Really cute.

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For Me

Alternate End

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: You wanted to go on one final date before finally letting him go.

Word Count: 2926

Originally posted by nelliel66

He looked at you, looked at your radiance, looked at your beaming smile as he complimented your cooking. He looked at you with caring and loving eyes, just not the kind of love that you had thought. He didn’t know when he fell out of love for you, but looking at you now he felt guilty for keeping you at his side when you could be out there looking for someone who could truly love you. 

You looked at him, looked at his tired eyes, looked at his forced smile as he complimented your cooking. You looked at him with caring and loving eyes, the kind of love that you wanted him to have. You didn’t know when he fell out of love for you, but looking at him now you felt like you didn’t want to let him go even if he didn’t truly love you.

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My Kind of Crazy

Summary: Jensen uses a song cover to reveal his feelings for his co-actress. 
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 1515
Genre: Fluff. All of the Fluff. 
Warnings: None.

A/N: This is my entry for @impalaimagining‘s 1K Followers Challenge! Yes, it’s late, my apologies, Taylor! If you’re not already following her, make sure you do that, you won’t regret it! My prompt was the gif at the top of fic, as well as My Kind of Crazy by Brantley Gilbert. Also, this is the first fluffy thing I’ve produced that I’ve been exceptionally proud of in a while so … yeah. Enjoy!

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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…”

16: dancing in the dark in the pale moonlight.

I loved writing this one! I didn’t know what to title it though. 

You can still send me a number  

“Do you think we should start getting back to the hotel?” Shawn asks y/n looking around the city nervously. He had forgotten where the hotel was and he was pretty sure that they where lost but y/n didn’t seem to mind one but. In fact Shawn wasn’t even sure if she had noticed just how far they had walked away from the hotel. She was beyond excited about visiting her boyfriend on tour for the first time and intended on making the best out of it, even if they had an early morning flight to somewhere else tomorrow. Nothing was going to ruin this moment for her.

“What time is it?” She finally looked up at him, the surrounding lights of the city square where nothing compared to the bright smile placed on y/n’s face. Shawn had to stop for a brief moment to properly let the imagine sink into his mind before he could respond.

He pulled out his phone checking the time before quickly turning his attention back to the beautiful girl before him that brought him so much happiness with the simplest things without even being aware of it.

“Ten- thirty”

“It’s still early, come on I want to see what’s going on over there” she turned back around gesturing to where a crowd of people where gathered along the promenade on the beach, lanterns illuminating the strip from the dark.

Eagerly y/n tugged on shawn’s hand pulling him along. He couldn’t  remember the last time that he felt so content with someone doing something so simple. Was he falling in love with y/n? They had been dating for nearly six months and in that time span he found himself becoming more and more attached to her. His heart fluttered at the thought. He was beyond crazy about her from the times she’d sit up late at night and talk on the phone with him when he wasn’t feeling right to the effortless way she constantly made him feel so much lighter when she was around.

As they neared there destination they noticed that the hundreds of people gathering around where looking at the stalls that had been set up selling anything and everything.

Delighted y/n turned back to Shawn smiling wider, which Shawn wasn’t sure could have even been possible until now, giving a small jump of excitement that she wasn’t even aware she did before hurrying towards the busy crowds to see what goods where being sold.

As they entered the crowd there grips on each others hands got tighter and Shawn pulled y/n closer to him to give him a sense of security. Although they where lost in a foreign city he didn’t feel lost but he knew he suddenly would if he lost the girl before him.

Stalls where selling things from fudge to candles, drawings, t-shirts, jewellery, and mostly food.
Y/n pointed out things that excited her but they didn’t have much of a chance to stop and look at them, the crowd pushing them along.

“Do you want anything?” Shawn bent down and asked y/n in her ear so he could be heated over the loud crowd. She looked up at him and shook her head no but Shawn new that she was lying. The two had only planned on going on a small walk after dinner they didn’t expect to end up God knows where so y/n had brought neither her phone nor her wallet with her.

After looking at all the stalls they, Shawn, decided on buying ice-cream and then walking along the beach. The further they walked the quieter it got. Neither had there shoes on allowing there feet to feel the sand and the water that would sometimes greet there feet.

“What’s wrong?” Shawn asked when y/n stopped walking. She was facing out at the sea but her attention was on the full moon above.

“I was wondering, do you think it’s the moon that makes the stars look beautiful at night or do you think it’s the stars that make the moon look beautiful at night?” She asked he eyebrows creasing together a little as she thought deeply.

Shawn had to contain himself not too laugh but he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face at the bizarre question his girlfriend had asked.

When y/n didn’t hear a respond she turned to make sure her boyfriend was still there however to her displeasure she only frowned more when she saw his reaction.

“I’m serious.” She groaned turning back to face the endless dark water stepping in a little deeper allowing the waves to crash against her bare legs.

“I think it’s both” she heard Shawn say causing her to turn back to him yet again. He stood there admiring everything about her from the way that her facial expression was blank showing her natural beauty as she waited for his response, to the that she stood there before him mid-calf in the water for no apparent reason. “ I think neither would look beautiful without each other, the compliment one another.” He added shoving his free hand in his pocket as he leaned back waiting for y/n’s response.

It seemed good enough for her, she nodded giving a small hum that could barley be heard over the crashing waves. The two stayed silent but not for long. A wide smile appeared on y/n’s face and as soon as the thought popped into her head she turned around and ran towards Shawn.

Grabbing onto his hand like an excited child, causing him to drop his shoes, she looked up at him smiling broadly and eyes gleaming.

“Let’s go for a swim!” Y/n exclaimed biting down on her bottom lip to try and contain her excitement.

It took a few moments for what y/n had said to register with Shawn, him being to distracted by how perfect she is.

“What? No!” He frowned while still smiling at her, slightly shocked by the spontaneous suggestion from his girlfriend. Is she serious, he wondered to himself in disbelief.

“What why?” Y/n wasn’t shocked by his response but she pressed along with the subject anyway.

“Because” Shawn laughed. He took his hand from y/n’s trio and scratched the back of his neck. “It’s night time” he shrugged not  realising how pathetic his answer truly was  until after he responded.

“So?” Y/n questioned confused.

“So we’ll get cold” Shawn shrugged hopelessly. Y/n rolled her eyes in response before  growing her shoes onto the ground next to him.

“Fine grandpa I’ll just swim by myself, I don’t need you” y/n replied cheekily before taking of her shorts followed by her t-shirt leaving her in just her underwear and bra.

Shawn’s cheeks flushed as he watch his girlfriend and he couldn’t help but feel Ashamed for staring. Sure she was his girlfriend but that was the closest her had seen her to naked.

Without another word to Shawn y/n sprinted into the surprisingly  warm water splashing around by herself and laughing at the insanity of what she was doing. Shawn watched her from the shore in disbelief. How could she be doing something like this? But there was nothing wrong with the situation, she wasn’t breaking any laws.

“Come on Shawn” she called out but Shawn shook his head.

“Please” she beefed laughing as she was tackled buy another wave. Shawn shook his head no again.

The joyful smile on y/n’s face fell slightly but she tried everything in her power not to let it show. Instead she dived under the water and when she resurfaced she faced her back to Shawn, looking out into the endless dark water.

Feeling bad for the fact that he ruined her happiness slightly Shawn couldn’t help but feel the need to fix his mistake. Unwillingly he dropped his shoes and slowly peeled his tee shirt from his body. Was he really doing this?

He felt beyond guilt of the fact that he had done something so small to ruin y/n’s small moment of excitement.

“Your fucking crazy” Shawn huffed to himself as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down leaving them in the messy pile of clothes that belonged to him and y/n.

Not thinking twice, Shawn scrunched his eyes shut and slowly walked into the water, the waves crashing against his toned chest reminding him of how crazy this truly was.

When he was finally at y/n every thought escaped his mind as he stared at her closely. The droplets of water on her bare skin, the moon dimly lighting up the dark giving him enough light to be able to make out his girlfriends gorgeous features.

Y/n still had her back to Shawn and wasn’t aware of the fact that he hat he had come into the water yet. Shawn’s eyes racked up and down the back of y/n’s body briefly before he stepped closer wrapping his arms around her bare shoulders pulling her back into his chest.

“You scared me” she laughed a little. Shawn ignored her before he picked her up causing her to scream and laugh out of shock.

“I’m going to make you pay for making me do this” y/n laughed harder and within seconds was flying briefly in the air before coming in contact with the water. She resurfaced still laughing but made her way up to her boyfriend wrapping her arms around his neck.

Shawn’s hands went to the back of y/n’s thighs picking her up and pulling her close to him. Y/n wrapped her legs around Shawn’s waist his hands resting in y/n’s but only to support her up.

She leaned in closer her hot breath fanning Shawn’s plump lips sending shivers down his spine. She took her time before connecting her lips with his. They moved slowly against one another taking there time to appreciate it.

Y/n pulled away now biting down on her bottom lip.

“I love you” she mumbled almost barley audible.

Shawn wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly or whether he had imagined it. It took y/n even a few moments to processes what she had said as well. But when she did she smiled brightly still biting down on her lip and looking into Shawn’s warm caramel eyes.

“I love you” she repeated more surely and determined. Shawn opened his mouth ready to say something but y/n beat him too it. “Don’t say it back.” She warned causing Shawn to shut his mouth and tilt his head watching her confused. “I want you to truly mean it when you say it and just saying it after I said it won’t make it special, but I just want you to know that I love you, I really do.” She smiled slightly at the end causing Shawn to him in response.

He knew what y/n meant, he believed it as well that the first I love you should be special and if that’s what she wanted he would wait.

This time Shawn leaned in connecting there lips kissing her with all his might. He wanted her to know the effect she had on him and if he couldn’t use his words he would show her.

I’m really proud of this one and guess what GIRLS CAN SAY ‘I LOVE YOU’ FIRST!!!!! It doesn’t always have to be the guy you know.

No One Loves Like Gaston

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Gaston (Beauty and the Beast) X Reader

Request: I see that now you are writing more than Hamilton, in light of the new movie ,and your new banner (!), could we get some Gaston/Luke Evans love and feels up in here? Please and thank you I love your writing. :)  - @leapslaps

Go LeapsLaps I guess . Dang that was fast

Word Count: 750

AU: None

Warnings: None, I don’t believe there is even cursing.

You were walking through the marketplace, minding your own business, when a loud, male voice boomed from your left.

“Ah, good afternoon Y/n.” Said the voice, the confidence that oozed from the figure immediately giving away the culprit.

“Good afternoon to you too, Gaston.” You said shortly, turning to face the smirking man beside you. You looked up to meet his eyes as you spoke, as it was polite although he towered over your frame. “How are you today?” You asked in an attempt to be polite.

“Well, better now that I am looking at a very beautiful girl,” responded Gaston, offering to you his signature mix of smile and smirk. He winked, and you decided to mess with him a bit as you knew of his distaste for a particular trio in pink.

“Oh, are the Bimbettes around here?” You ask using your nickname for them, sounding serious although a hint of a smile began to play across your features. A combination of panic and annoyance showed in Gaston’s blue eyes before he quickly composed himself again. You let out a small laugh as Gaston responded.

“Of course not Y/n, I was talking about you.” You blushed in spite of yourself, and to cover it you feigned surprise at Gaston’s words. Gasping and putting a palm to your chest in a joking manner, you smiled and hid your blush at the compliment.

“Why Gaston, you are so forward,” you say jokingly, brushing the blush off as you can not help but blush no matter who compliments you.

“I know,” replied Gaston cockily, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the heavy sarcasm lacing your tone. Although Gaston was usually only boastful and full of pride and confidence, his demeanor seemed to falter for a moment before he spoke again. “Y/n, are you busy tonight?” He asked as he used his hand to rub the back of his neck. The move showed his muscular arms off nicely, and he didn’t even notice. For once, he was showing off unintentionally.

“No, I don’t believe so. Why do you ask, Gaston?” You ask, his nerves going right over your head.

“Well Y/n, I wanted to know if perhaps you would like to have dinner with me tonight. At my house of course, provided by yours truly.” Asked Gaston, who for once sounded entirely honest and sincere. For a moment you stopped in your tracks, shocked into a moment of silence. Yes you and Gaston would flirt with each other sometimes when the two of you were talking, but it had never meant anything. Or did it? You figured there would be no harm in going either way. Besides, free food can never be bad. Unless it’s moldy.

“It would be my pleasure, Gaston.” You say with a smile. 

Gaston returned the smile as he spoke, “that’s wonderful. Will three hours from now be a suitable time to pick you up?” He asked with a grin still traced with a smirk.

“Three hours from now sounds perfect.”

The two of you walked in a comfortable silence the last minute or two to your small cottage. As you began walking up the stairs to the doorway,, Gaston grabbed your smaller hand in his large one, bringing it to his mouth to kiss it in goodbye.

“I’ll see you in three hours, Y/n.” He says with a dashing smile, all the while not letting go of your hand.

“That you will, but for that to happen I will have to go inside and get ready.” You say, trying to hint at him to let go of your hand. Although you had never thought about it before, now that your hand was in his you did not want him to let go, but you knew that to get dolled up in time he would need to.

“But darling, you already look so beautiful.” Compliments Gaston. The compliment itself made you blush, but butterflies erupted in your stomach with the ‘darling’.

“Thank you, Gaston,” you say softly with a smile. You enter your cottage and shut the door behind you, a blush dusting your cheeks and nose as you begin to prepare for dinner tonight with Gaston. Surprisingly, you felt amazingly giddy. Then it hit you. 

Do I have feelings for Gaston?

Disneyland with a side of dessert

Chris Evans X Y/N.

Warnings:Sex, language. Not much else really.

Summary: 

Y/N is in a interview alongside Chris Evans, during so it’s revealed that  she’s never gone to Disneyland and Chris can’t fathom the idea. Being the gentleman that he is, he vows to take you to Disneyland because… everyone should go at least once in their life.  


Y/n  smile as her nerves tempt to get the best of her, James Corden is slowly making his way down the sofa, asking both fan and random questions that he found. Chris Evans was the first to go, answering the obvious questions. “What does he think about the new direction Cap is going? Does he see a real love interest with Agent 13 and Cap? How many dogs does he own? Is he more a dog man or cat man?” 

Y/N watched Chris answer the questions with enthusiasm and nervousness, he smiled too much and struggled to convey what he truly meant sometimes. However as James cards of question dwindled down, she knew it was close to being her turn. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem but she was late for rehearsals and had no clue what she would be asked. 

The English talk show host starts off simple, “where was she born, what was her favorite subject” and as the questions progress they become different in nature, some personal others ridiculous. It’s the second to last question that gets a reaction she didn’t expect. 

“Now, Y/N, is it true that you’ve never been to Disneyland?” Some of the audience members gasp with shock as James finishes his question. 

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anonymous asked:

how about a zimbits, established relationship AU where Bitty has a baking show that takes place in his house that he shares with Jack, and Jack drops in sometimes casual like to steal some of the food that Bitty makes or chirp him terribly? (assuming jack is out by now)

Bitty was in the middle of talking when Jack snuck up behind him. 

“So, you need to fold the dough over the butter like this to keep it from–” At the end of that sentence, Bitty let out an undignified shriek as he felt something dig into his upper ribcage. 

“So ticklish,” Jack chuckled into Bitty’s ear

After Bitty took a moment to get over his mini-heart attack, he glanced nervously at the small, filming crew, but they were all grinning and laughing at Jack’s prank. “Ha ha, very funny,” Bitty said in fond exasperation. He elbowed Jack lightly, but Jack had now draped himself over Bitty and put his chin on Bitty’s shoulder as if they were alone and the cameras weren’t rolling.

It was one of the perks of filming in his own kitchen. Bitty liked having his own supplies and oven to work with, but Jack was such a distraction when he was trying to work.

After shaking Jack off of him (and honestly, Bitty loved it when Jack did that, but he really needed to finish laminating the dough before the butter melted), Bitty continued explaining his technique to the camera. 

A day later, when Bitty was working with the production manager on editing and cutting out unnecessary scenes, Bitty realized that Jack had been sneaking into the scenes whenever he wasn’t looking. 

When Bitty was busy with the oven, Jack appeared and stole a handful of chopped nuts and fruit. When Bitty was getting a mixing bowl out of one the drawers, Jack came back and moved the wooden spoon. It continued like this for a while whenever Bitty was turned away. Finally, near the end of the segment, while Bitty was busy with something in the back, Jack appeared again and stole one of the mini pies right off of the cooling rack. 

“I knew it! I knew I had 24! I thought I had miscounted!”

When Bitty got home, Jack was casually reading a magazine on the couch. Bitty dropped the keys in the bowl and dropped down next to Jack. “How was your day?” Jack asked casually. He knew Bitty was editing today.

Bitty gave him a long stare. “You, Mr. Zimmermann, are a nuisance.”

He looked amused. “Yeah, but I’m your nuisance.”  

Bitty pressed himself up against Jack and snuggled in. “They liked you appearing in the background so much that the network wants you to appear on my next episode.”

Jack’s soft expression grew serious. “Are you okay with that? I was just doing that last time to be funny. I can stop, if you want.”

“Nah,” Bitty said with a grin, “It’s time to show the world if you’re as good in the kitchen as you are on ice.” 

Jack grinned back, and in one swift move, flipped Bitty on his back. Hovering over him, Jack whispered, “I’ll show you exactly how good I am.”


[send me a pairing]

A collaboration between myself, and @varvau

Story is conveyed and built with uncountable methods. A creator’s ability must transcend the Great Lie into Great Truth through varying degrees of Originality, often misidentified with the expression, “Everything’s been done, nothing new.” Lottery ball machines are, mostly, identical but their drawn numbers are unique. Traditional weddings in the Americas happen every week; no two are exactly the same. Originality concerns execution, not the fact something exists. With execution comes perspective. 


Ponder the story above. It is about trade, or is it? Certainly a subject, this trade, for an exchange of items is quite occurring. One could prattle endless an account of these creatures sharing daily trade with nothing more said. If that be the inclination expressed, all within earshot must question the extent of that speaker’s exposure to other cultures and their varying forms of relaying information. 

“But, this is a piece of fiction, it’s not serious!” speak many detractors of those seeking to create stories and worlds for a living, and later express devout love for, you guessed, another work of fiction. Twelve years ago, as of this writing, I was told by a doctor, who knew me since Grade V, my pursuit in creating stories and worlds was a “fantasy”, that I should speak with her whenever I “wished to return to the real world”. Quite, she did not believe in the profession of writing in general. Her entire practice depends on literature. That she worked with youths only increased the importance of fiction in their development—yet there she was, advising someone against creating new things, and making their own life decisions. I had, some years earlier than this encounter, decided for myself the what’s-to-do. I’ve not revisited that doctor, and never will.

Works of fiction are quite real for their creators, and some refer to their work as children. Readers identify with fiction for various reasons, and to them it may be more real than what is. A fictional world can be fabulous or grotesque, and still escape from ugly reality. Experiencing a foreign culture grants the same effect. One can tell a good story alone, a great story set in a well-designed world, or if they choose: deliver an immersion in time and place. The decision depends on goals.

Suppose you were dropped there, in that market, without knowledge of local culture, and didn’t die of shock at the sight of non-human beings, who bear likeness to our feral beasts, engaging in very human-like behavior. They don’t speak your language, no guides exist in your first, second, third, or any language familiar. Perhaps, you’re a linguist and realize none of their languages match recognizable lingual families.


In your face there’s scent as language, unless they’ve come to ignore or subdue natural body odor as humans did. It doesn’t factor within your ears, the possibility they employ hypersonic and subsonic sounds humans cannot perceive without specialized equipment, but—oh dear— you’re not naturalist with such equipment or deign leave a comfortable living for work in the middle of nowhere without many modern conveniences.

You quickly realize they posses no mobile phones, digital music players, any sort of advanced electronics, the internal combustion engine, telegraphs and wire transfer, gas lighting, and manure piles in the streets from who-knows-what that pulls their carts—if they did, then a copy- paste from the human world they wouldn’t be. How ever will you survive when so much isn’t

standard for your time and place? Maybe you should “try everything”, the worst advice ever given, except on desperation or a four-for-one sale at Inspired By de Sade. Following it may result in your demise.

The Didelphimorph on the right sells textiles and foodstuffs. Isn’t that nice? But…can you eat, let alone touch it? Is the Caniform vulnerable to certain foods the other may consume without problem? We’ve plants here, on Earth by example, quite hostile. Nasty little things like Gympie (Dendrocnide moroides), a perfectly normal horse-killer from hell that inflicts enough pain victims prefer suicide. Or, perhaps, your fancy is Manchineel (Hippomane mancinella), the adorably named Beach Apple. That one, dear, is truthfully a botanical death machine: a drop of moisture runoff from this tree blisters skin and corrodes automotive paint. Do you want to blister skin and corrode automotive paint? That’s how you blister skin and corrode automotive paint.


And don’t even think about the water. Travel between countries on your own planet, and you’ll find water of varying qualities to which the local population is immune, but you are not.

Your advantage is disadvantage. For the purposes of this example, they’ve no idea you’re even present. And, in regards to this specific civilization, where would you be without Jerome and myself? We’re to blame for dragging you into this otherworldly soiree where you’ve stuck a spoon in the ceiling but hey, you’re still alive. What’s mundane and automatic for this place is unknown for you: a language of Color, Shape, and Posture.

Let us start with the Caniform left, so eager to spend money. Upon his cape are two layers. Green, in local culture, is life and fertility while Brown’s is commonality of the every day. Technically, it is an off-white baize, but still counts as Brown.

That he wears a cape, not a tunic, tells of simplicity, good spirits, and the colors that he is newly wed and possibly expecting to become a father or has adopted a youth. The ceremony was not extravagant, a casual affair with a small number of close friends and relatives. Take note: local culture. His own native, that he’s possibly abandoned, may not define marriage in the same way, or practice it. Their definition of the “family unit” having two parents may not be.

Continuing down to his pantaloons, here again Green, and White. He comes from a lineage of relatively healthy individuals for legs carry the continuity of bloodlines. White is preparedness, but may speak inexperience and innocence towards the large change in his life. The Black tassels on the closure of his satchel indicate he contemplated life behind a sword; that they dangle free means he chose against, for warriors don’t wear needless items an enemy could grab and use against them.


On Shape, the leading edge of his cape being that color proclaims he’s nothing hidden and the vertical lines in his pantaloons speak twice: Green for a very stable family with little to no internal drama. White for a family young, perhaps 1-3 generations old, not big enough for a massive number of non-immediate members. 

On Posture, outwardly it is engaged in business. His open paws forward money and show he intends no harm. That he stands over the Didelphimorph is protection—he’s watching for anyone who’d steal. If he were bent, leveling their eyes, then an abrasive or unfriendly challenge it would become.

The Didelphimorph also wears a shade of White upon his legs, inexperienced where he is, possibly having moved from another region, or country, and is learning this new place. 

Upon his tunic is the survival and security of Blue. By wearing it close to his face, he proclaims status as a merchant who will not price gouge, dependable with good reputation of maintaining stock, and believes in honesty first. The shade lacks vividness; he is not fond for usurping local government. Here, wearing complete vivid blue on more than 25% of one’s clothes is punishable by execution. The golden bangle indicates prosperity, and that he recently wed.

On Shape, the off-white motif of an arch on the tunic suggests inexperience or preparedness in one particular aspect. The style refers to a building designed for residents, and he has acquired a living space. However, in local mental health definitions of shape, it means “halfway to stability”. This creature suffered from something tragic or debilitating in his past, but has over come it. That the arch is placed on the sleeve indicates confinement of some kind, either physical or social. The leading edge, also of the same color, reinforces his honesty as like the Caniform’s cape reinforces simplicity. Upon his bangle, the circle in his native culture describes a marriage under strict contract, the addition of ovals define immense flexibility within that contract.

On Posture, that his eyes are not on the Caniform entrusts he won’t be attacked, and accepts the other’s protection. They are likely very familiar with each other for the money is not set upon any surface, but held. The Didelphimorph, what most would call an opossum, does not have naturally exquisite eyesight. He’s near sighted, the Caniform knows it, and is aware his kind are mostly nocturnal yet the mid-day sun is high. Here is a merchant pushing his work hours into time of day when he should be asleep.

Bonus Material: The Red Textile

On Color, Red is power, therefore anyone who wears or places for decoration expresses it. Yellow carries various definitions, among them wealth. Black is self-moderation.

On Shape, triangles are important. The diamonds consist of two incomplete triangles, a sign of wealth shared, not hoarded. A bearer gives money to richer folk for investments in various causes, pays their fair taxes, and also gives to the needy below. The inverted, incomplete Yellow triangles near the Black X’s tell of one who gives more to the needy than to the rich. The Black X’s themselves are not viewed as two intersecting lines, but four incomplete triangles, designating establishment of inner peace. The Black Zigzag references inner peace despite unpredictability in life while the Yellow lines around it carry a second, separate definition from the above: financial stability is nearly unbreakable no matter what problems arise. Triangles without bases represent openness and invitation.

Bonus Material: The Money

On Color, the government that issued these notes considers all money equal, no matter who and what circumstances it derives, according to Brown. This includes money from illicit activities with varying stages of illegality and socially negativity. As long as it is legal tender, the government attaches no moral stigma to inanimate money even if it punishes the crime and may deal in shades.

On Shape, the rectangle declares stability of the mint, and the circle is “unchanging”. This society does not rate its money vs. others, being the prime standard. It sets boundary that it does not tolerate counterfeiting, punished by execution for the rectangle is also a block.

Unrelated factors aligned over many centuries, coming together at that precise instant and place, themselves forebears of the future in every aspect where physical and social sciences interact.  

This is World Discipline, more commonly known as Geography. Words are not required, though certainly they help. Walk into a bar in the United States, expect a full serving of beer as the definition of good service, and half considered bad. In another country, let alone world, a full serving of beer may be a local means of saying one should drink and leave, whereas a half- serving means stay: enjoy yourself, and what this place has to offer.

these moments | john shelby

@ateliefloresdaprimavera wanted, and I quote: “happy,married to the love of his life John and [reader] who’s like a daughter to Polly”

hope you like it, hun!

You marched down the street, half angry, half exhausted. Groups of kids were running up and down and you cast an eye out to check whether any of yours were there. Men tipped their caps to you as you passed and you barged your shoulder into Polly’s front door, slamming it behind you.

“I got fucking fired, didn’t I?”

“Lovely to see you too, sweetheart. Sit yourself down. Kettle’s just boiled, you can explain yourself”

You huffed, yanking your scarf off and chucking it over the back of a chair.

“Thanks Pol. Where’s the kids?”

“John’s got them”

“John’s got them?”

Polly cast a look up to you as she brewed the pot and smirked when she saw your confused look.

“He was showing Katie her numbers and the rest wouldn’t let them be, you know what they’re like”

“Sorry, no, go back – John’s got the kids? By himself?”

She chuckled to herself and slid a cup over to you.

“Sit yourself down. And explain”

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a DAMN GOOD IGNIS MOMENT.



But really, the more I watch it the more I realise it’s not only a fantastic Ignis moment, it’s a fantastic Chocobros moment in general? REALLY LONG POST AHEAD + UNFINISHED GAMEPLAY WRITING BUT THIS SCENE

Lemme start with Ignis because duh (if you’ve seen anything out of me the past two weeks, it’s probably been Ignis related). He’s been pretty passive about losing his eyesight up until this point. He calls it a minor sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. When Noctis and Gladio fight on the train, Ignis says nothing, even though part of the argument is his own injury. He only tries to stop Gladio by saying his name; Prompto is the one who tries to break it up (more in a moment. anyway not that Ignis really could break it up rn but you know) He’s been optimistic enough about it, though. “I’ll manage somehow” when you invite him into the mines. “This is considerably harder than I expected” he says about fighting. But sometimes you hear the boys say something and Iggy just sort of sighs. They’re dancing around him, and his injury, and the argument, and this scene is where it culminates.

The first time he actually says that it isn’t okay is because of their friendship hitting a low point, rather than his actual injury. But he is so, so aware of that injury and how it has the potential to drag them down. He still says “I would remain with you all. Til the very end” because these are his brothers and he damn well plans to, but that said.

This is the first time we hear Ignis raise his voice, I think. Not including battle cries and the like. Which is saying a lot because this boy is very, very calculated on his emotions. (ie later on when Prompto falls off the train, you hear the very audible difference in Noctis’s voice vs Iggy’s) He’s Crownsguard, Noctis is his king, he will do anything for him, and believes he has no reason to complain even if he has gone blind. But that’s a Big Thing. His yelling in this scene exactly “I know full well!” is finally, finally his frustration coming out and it’s triggered because of their bickering (or anti-bickering, since they aren’t really… speaking much).

He says he is willing to bow out if he starts to slow them down, which imo is like asking him to suffer a physical injury all over again (he is Crownsguard, Noctis is his king, he will do anything for him) but he still will DO IT because he won’t be a burden.

He goes on to give Noctis what, I think, is a much needed confidence boost. “A king pushes onward always, accepting the consequences and never looking back” and in the opening sentences for the next chapter, it literally uses those same words to describe Noct’s reaction to Ardyn’s trick: never looking back. (Also never looking back is exactly what Ignis is doing right now, which is why the choice to focus the camera so much on his scars in that moment is AMAZING.)

He continues with that to tell Gladio that Noct will be king and he will rule, but “only once he’s ready”. And this is SO important. Gladio’s interaction with Noct is painful at least and rage inducing at worst (more below) but not only does Noct need to hear this, Gladio does, too. They can push Noctis into that throne but he will never be able to lead until he is ready, and that involves coming to terms with some very, very heavy stuff that’s been happening. Everybody doesn’t handle grief the same way and they’re all having a hard go at it in very different ways thanks to the events of late.

So all of this makes this the DAMN GOOD IGNIS MOMENT. But it’s also really good for the rest of them, both in mentioned ways and others, but since I’m apparently waxing poetic 

Prompto, Gladio, and Noctis under the cut ↓ (note: 150% zoom for easier reading)

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anonymous asked:

Bitter Sunday: Tony helping Clint's family fix stuff around the house, because they were nice to him and keep being nice to him and say please and thank you. Meanwhile Clint is out avenging again, and Tony is taking his "consultant" role very literally (at least until the next *serious* attack) because that's all he does and they're reluctant or arrogant enough not to consult him a lot anyway. But Clint's family needs someone to fix the car, so he helps. For free. For a thank you.

Wow, I got this before I even had the chance to ask for anything. I love it! :D (Mostly I’m just really enjoying this bitter Sunday thing and love that you guys are on board with it) Okay, back to business now (though this didn’t turn out very bitter, more just happy!Tony and not much else)


Tony can’t really say no. Not when Laura calls him, sounding as tired as he feels on his worst days, baby Nate crying in the background. Especially not when Rhodey made him promise to not lock himself away in the workshop until the next worldwide alien invasion.

So he comes over on a Saturday afternoon–and if he checked with FRIDAY that Clint would be occupied elsewhere, well, that’s just common sense. Things have been tense between them ever since the airport fight, and Tony’s tired of having the same argument again and again, with no sign of a resolution.

He’s greeted by Lila running up to meet him with wide smile–there’s a tooth missing there, that she’s very proud off–and something tense dissolves in his chest. Laura sends him a relieved smile, shows him the car, in between the thousand and one ‘Thank you’s Tony tries valiantly to wave off.

The afternoon is spent repairing the car, which goes slower and is a lot more fun than Tony expected. Because Cooper is eager to help him, curiously asks question after question and runs happily around, searching for the tools Tony needs. Laughing and talking excitedly about his science project and how Nathaniel has learned how to throw his food around and how Lila doesn’t like dresses anymore because she wants to be a superhero when she grows up, and kicking villains’ butts is easier in pants. When they’re finally finished, Cooper is whooping and high fives Tony, so happy, pulls him into the house–and really Tony never stood a chance.

Of course Laura insists he stay over for dinner, as a (completely unnecessary) thank you. Lila has drawn a picture for Tony and Cooper keeps asking if he’ll please, please come visit again and. Tony is–overwhelmed, a little. Thankfully Laura notices, artfully distracts her children to give him a little breathing room. But he’s also strangely happy, hasn’t felt this light and welcome and appreciated in a long time.

He refuses to take Laura’s money of course. And maybe, maybe he’ll come by again. Soon. Laura’s dishwasher isn’t in the best of conditions anymore, after all.

[Bonus: There’s a poster of Iron Man hanging on Lila’s closet. A framed grade A for Cooper’s science project on his desk. A picture of Tony with an oddly panicked expression as he holds a giggling Nathaniel, who’s curiously patting his beard, hanging on the wall. Clint doesn’t understand.

Laura narrows her eyes, a barely noticeable movement.

“It’s been hanging there for four months, Clint,” she says. There’s a lot in those words she doesn’t say, and for the first time in a long while, Clint notices.]

For Me (alt. end)

Original End

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst/(semi-)Fluff

Summary: You wanted to go on one final date before finally letting him go.

Word Count: 3465

Originally posted by shishikookie

He looked at you, looked at your radiance, looked at your beaming smile as he complimented your cooking. He looked at you with caring and loving eyes, just not the kind of love that you had thought. He didn’t know when he fell out of love for you, but looking at you now he felt guilty for keeping you at his side when you could be out there looking for someone who could truly love you.

You looked at him, looked at his tired eyes, looked at his forced smile as he complimented your cooking. You looked at him with caring and loving eyes, the kind of love that you wanted him to have. You didn’t know when he fell out of love for you, but looking at him now you felt like you didn’t want to let him go even if he didn’t truly love you.

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