my last was just much too big now

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.”


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…”

i haven’t gotten sick of paleo because i let myself cheat a lot, like con weekends are pretty much junk food breaks and i eat more fruit than i probably should but just cutting out the majority of bread and starch and refined sugar in what i eat day to day is great. my favorite jean jacket used to be pretty tight on me, and now its almost too big. clothes that fit me perfect last year are just falling off. i just bought some size 14 jeans a few months ago because my size 16s were getting too big, and now those 14s are getting a little too loose also

and im glad i decided to do this after i got to a point of loving my body and accepting myself, and just wanting to do this to be healthier instead of doing this diet from the position of “i hate my body i have to fix it” because i’ve tried that before and its never worked. now im like “my body is great and im cute as hell but i’d like to have more energy and stop eating things that make me feel like crud!”

The Wrong Guy (Derek/Stiles)

Anonymous said: Derek/Stiles - “Are you meeting someone here? Because.. I think I’m that person.”

Nonnie! I hope you enjoy this one! Fic #26 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge

The Wrong Guy. Derek/Stiles. Teen. Also on AO3.

Stiles is having a drink at his favorite bar when a gorgeous guy says they’re supposed to be meeting. Stiles thinks Derek has the wrong guy, but Derek insists he’s the right one.

Rooney’s is a great place to get a drink after shifts end. It’s half-way between the subway station and his apartment, so Stiles will stop in several nights a week. Occasionally, one of his roommates will meet him for an early dinner, but Allison’s working third shift this week, Isaac is in the middle of his four-three, and Erica’s got a big work project that’s making her come home late all week.

Keep reading

‘As once I loved you in my mortal flesh, without it now I love you still.’

Although Erwin expected it, begged for it even, he still couldn’t help the sorrowful and resigned expression which crossed his face when Levi eventually came to him. He was battered and bloody, broken in so many ways and an opposite vision to Erwin’s own golden light, but soon Levi would gain his wings too.

‘Erwin…I kept my promise.’


This started out as an ugly doodle last night of Levi and now is this. I have come to terms with the fact that I will never ever be able to draw neat or clean lines, much as in traditional medium - I just like to make a big mess, it seems.

Quote from Dante’s Purgatory. It seemed rather fitting.

Chapter Six

When Felicity’s parents announce that they’re hiring someone to be her personal bodyguard, what she hears is that she’s going to be stuck with a 24/7 babysitter… something she is so not on board with.

When Oliver takes up the offer to work for the Smoak family he thinks it’s just another job, but he has no idea what he’s about to get himself into.

Protecting the “tech empire heiress” is the easy part, matters of the heart are where things get a bit more complicated.

A big thanks to Sara @gothsmoak who created the stunning cover art for this story and Aubrey @aubvi my awesome beta :)

Rating: T  This Chapter’s Word Count: 4750

Hey guys! Wow this week went really fast for me, it feels like I was just posting the last chapter, so hopefully it went by quickly for you too :) Thank you so much for all of your encouraging words on the last chapter, reading your comments makes my day. In this chapter we have a character interaction that I think you guys have been looking forward to, so enjoy!

“What’s the countdown at now for days until the move?” Shado asked while he stretched to finish out his workout.

He rolled his neck, “Nine.”

“You excited? Nervous?”

His mind unwittingly flashed to the dream he had woken from that morning, but he shoved those images away again. They could easily be explained away by the Chinese takeout he had found in the back of the fridge and probably shouldn’t have eaten before going to bed.

“A little bit of both I think,” he replied, standing up from the floor. “I’ve never been to New York City before, so I’m excited for that, but it’s also a whole new routine and territory to get used to. Keeping her safe in a city that’s almost ten times bigger than Starling… and then when she starts school and we’re traveling back and forth all the time…”

He could feel his muscles that he had just relaxed starting to tense up again just thinking about all the potential dangers that could pop up in two cities he wasn’t familiar with.

Shado placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “It will be fine Oliver.”

“Yeah,” he consented. “Thank you.” He grabbed his water bottle and his discarded sweatshirt, “Well, I should get going. I’m having Thea over for breakfast this morning. I took the day off so that we can spend some time together before the move.”


tagging people under the cut…

Keep reading


I was up at 5:30 am on this lovely Friday for my last make up OR clinical! Got me some Dunkin to get my day started. Nomnomnom. The sky was super beautiful too, and it made me just a little less sad to be in clinical.

The OR~ saw a total knee and then a bilateral medial compartment arthroplasty. Not the coolest, but I was pretty much circulating on my own which was awesome.

Got a cute lil bunny cupcake and enjoyed it out in the sunshine. :^)

Now I’m having a big salad while watching Netflix!!

This is it, babes. The last drabble in this collection. I’ll be posting a oneshot in honor of show day tomorrow and I’ve got some other stuff in the works, but this work is officially complete. Thanks so much for all of your comments and kudos and prompts on here! I hope you’ll check out some of my other stuff, too. :)

prompt: “You’re afraid that you’ll lose me in big crowds so you always hold my hand but now you just hold my hand when there’s only, like, five people around and I’m getting vry suspicious” for Bellarke. Ao3.

Bellamy knows that Clarke is starting to get suspicious. It was only a matter of time – Octavia and Miller have been raising their eyebrows at him for weeks and Raven keeps grinning and making a gesture that Bellamy is pretty sure is obscene every time Clarke turns her back.

Keep reading

Spontaneous Combustion

[I had this all planned out in my head yesterday, but this morning it has gone in so many directions, so I hope it’s okay. Since people liked the description of Spencer with Asperger’s I wanted to do one where the reader has some of the traits as well as anxiety issues. This takes place as mostly a swapout in 7x11 – True Genius. And I am still working on the requests please don’t think I’ve forgotten you. It just takes me a little while to let it sink in and for something to come out.]


“Spontaneous insanity is the real bliss! It’s sad that we are honored for playing sane, serious, safe, miserable and controlling in this poor world.” 
― Saurabh Sharma

You huffed as you gathered your things from security, you were already cursing yourself from being late, but you couldn’t really be mad since you had decided to come on a whim. Still, you were going to enter the room, and people were going to turn and look due to the interruption.

Doesn’t matter.

It didn’t matter, it was a common occurrence and you would deal with it. You had been stuck in your cave of an office for far too long, and now, looking back, it was sad, you had remained hidden for far too long and it was time to stop. So starting today you declared you were going to be more daring, spontaneous, which was why you were here at a book signing luncheon instead of your usual food truck. Yeah, it didn’t sound too adventurous, but the guest speakers beside the author were actual FBI agents. That was pretty freakin’ wild in itself. Taking a deep breath, you jammed a hand in your pocket, ready to count the items within, in case the attention made you anxious. Opening the door as quietly as you could you had no worries, whoever was at the podium had everyone’s eyes on them. And from the stuttering and microphone blare you understood why.

“H-hi, I a-am here today to talk to you about different paraphilia and how they relate to violent crimes. Can anyone tell me what dendrophilia is?”

Gif by criminalmindsmanic

Where a guy wants to screw a trees and shrubs.

“T-that’s right…a fetish for trees.”

You smiled, you liked him, the way he stuttered. He was a mess up there, but he was real. He wasn’t bad to look at either, though you didn’t know how he’s viewpoint on you would be. But you were here to do something different, and what was the worst that could happen? You’d try to talk to him and he’d say no? The thought of the rejection caused your heart to speed up, yeah, you liked solitude and yeah, you were awkward in speaking, but no one liked the brush off. But you had to say the hell with it, you’d count everything in your pocket and bag but you were tired of living in a shell.

Watching the man stumble and nearly face plant off the step, losing his papers in the process, you went to wait outside, you could at least say hello, and that you enjoyed his lecture. You could, you would, you’d scream later. And you’d cry if you wussed out so you were doing it. Trying to rev yourself up you went to get some water and sit on the bench in the lobby.

Your leg wouldn’t stop jittering, it was like it had a mind of its own right now. You closed your eyes and tried to take in the smells. Some places could overwhelm you, the overuse of perfume, hints of makeup and aftershave, leftover foods and the smell of gas from the cars outside, a lot could turn up your nose. But in here, there a subtlety to the smells, it was clean, with the scent of new clothing and pine needles, the actual kind of pine needles not artificial spray that would have you sneezing, and there was the unmistakable whiff of vanilla and you knew there had to be cupcakes or something nearby.

The banging of the double doors brought you back with a jump, and you were startled to see the reason for your lingering coming through them. Making your wobbly legs lift you up, you counted the coins in your pocket before heading in his direction.

“Um, Dr. R-reid?”

The man turned to look at you in surprise, obviously in his own world as well. You blushed now that his eyes were turned on you, taking note that they were a very nice shade of brown, matching the cropped hair, and jacket. Okay, stop.

“I wanted to say you were very good up there.”

His mouth quirked. “Thanks, it’s not very true, I was a disaster, but it’s very much appreciated.”

“You were a disaster because you were a human being up there?”

Oh, shit. Your mouth filter had broken for a second, and you saw his brows lift, oh, God, Y/N, you have to follow it up now.

“I mean that it’s natural to fumble a little bit, I…I would’ve been terrified up there, probably would’ve gotten sick on everyone.”

Like now, the acid in your stomach was bubbling rapidly, and you wanted to cover your mouth with your shirt.

“Thanks but I think you could probably handle it better than you think.”

“Thank you, uh, I liked the paraphilia, I may have a new list to go over now.”

“You like lists?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of weird that way.”

“It’s not weird at all!”

His jubilant tone had your eyes widen and you took a step back, though a smile came across your face.

“Sorry, I’m a tad weird too. Overly so, if you ask my friends.”

“I’m glad…I mean, I wouldn’t have had the courage to talk to you if you weren’t a little odd.”

He cocked his head. “Why not?”

“Come on, I told you I’m weird, it’ll be kind of obvious if you stand with me long enough. Not to mention the fact you’re in the FBI, us small town folk can’t compete.”

You meant it as a joke but from his change in expression you knew he didn’t take it like that.

“I would’ve talked to you regardless.”

“I’m sorry, I meant it to be –“

“I know, damn, I’m sorry I cut you off. I do that too much too.”

“It’s okay, so do I.”

“May I ask what it is you do, Miss Small Town?”

You face became even more red. “I’m a developer on the main floor plans at CyberKinetics.”

His brows rose to his hairline. “CyberKinetics? Aren’t you guys making smart sensors for artificial limbs?”

“It’s in the middle stages, yeah, we, um, with 3D printing and everything on the rise, we’re hoping we’ll be able to come out with prototypes by next fall.”

You could tell he was excited. “Weren’t you able to make a prototype of a hand for a veteran? It said in the article you were able to link it with the nerve endings and they could control it and feel it just as effectively as their actual limb.”

Yep, shirt collar over face now. You were having to hold your hands down, all the attention was becoming too much. “Yeah, but the chip inside went out in less than a month, we want something to last, not something that will need charging or a new chip implanted in it.”

“I understand, you want it to be as natural as possible.”

“Yeah, I’m saying that a lot sorry. I’m also not as big in the project as you’re thinking, I’m just an outliner, I stay in my office most days and everyone else actually tries to use and demonstrate the findings.”

“It’s a bigger job than you think; you’re going to change the world.”

You were tugging your collar with a hand. “A small footprint in the sand, what about you? You get to change the world all the time.”

“I guess my footprints are small too, it takes many feet to make a difference…that sounded cheesy didn’t it?”

You shrugged. “Probably, but I love cheese so…”

You tittered on your feet before your eyes darted back to his. “Look, I don’t do this, I’m not one for this but, uh, I know you probably need to be somewhere soon, but –“

You rummaged in your pocket before your fingers hit the edge of your card. “Um, if you ever wanted to go over lists, I’m more into phobias now, but we could always compare that to the different philias if you wanted. I just –“

“I’d love to, um, I mean, we could go now if you wanted.”

The hope in his eyes and the way his own hands fidgeted made your breath catch. “Now? Y-you don’t have to help sign books or something?”

He shook his head smiling. “Nope, I have to tell my colleague where I’m going so she won’t worry, but then I’m all yours.”

All mine?

He seemed to catch his words too, the tips of his ears beginning to scald.

“Do you like coffee? I, um, I like books and coffee and the library close to hear has a great selection of both if you want to that is.”

He grinned. “I adore both those things, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened. “I didn’t give you my name did I?”

He flashed the card. “It’s okay. I haven’t given you mine either. I prefer Spencer to Dr. Reid.”

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. “Okay, Spencer I’ll be right here.”

“I won’t be far she’s talking to some people over there.”

You watched him sprint with his bag bobbing to the woman that was seated on stage with him. She was beautiful, were all FBI agents good looking? Was that a criteria? Being stuck in the office with a computer all the time your friends and colleagues were used to finding you with no make-up and unkempt clothes and hair. On more than one occasion staying all night and hitting a breakthrough into the afternoon with just your pajamas on. As Spencer came back towards you, you noticed the woman was looking at you now. Your shoulders squeezed, but lessened when she smiled, giving you a small wave. You waved back.


You nodded, gathering your wits and bag as he steered you out the door. You both decided on a cab, and you regretted it as soon as you sat. The close proximity was too much and you finally buried your nose in your shirt, as your hand went to your pocket.

“You cold?”

You looked to him in your peripheral vision, and shook your head.

“I’m s-sorry. I should’ve said, but I was afraid you’d say no to coming, I get nervous easily, and I –“

“It’s okay I understand, i-it’s taken me a very long time to get to this point but I still have a lot of lapses and get anxious as well. And I interrupted you again, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’ll tally them up so I know how many times I can interject you.”

He grinned, but then his face turned serious. “Would it be okay if –?”

His hand came slowly towards your face, him trying to gently tug the fabric under your lips.

“I understand if you’re too nervous too, but you do have a very lovely face.”

He was going to have to stop or your eyes would pop out.

“Thank you, so do you.”

He grinned, and as you approached the stop he got out and came to open your door.

“A s-sweet talker and a gentleman.”

He shrugged timid. “I try.”

“So coffee or books first?”

“Either sounds good.”

You usually didn’t do it, but the staff had known you for so long they wouldn’t mind you browsing the stacks with some coffee. Settling on a dark roast you put some Splenda in as he began dumping sugar into his.

“Sweet tooth?”

“Oh, yeah, you could say that, I don’t care for the bitterness so I overcompensate with sugar.”

You chanced a laugh and seeing him smile you continued. “You could always get one of those dessert coffees.”

“No, thank you, I like them sweet, not diabetic coma sweet.”

Motioning for him to follow, you both began to get lost in the labyrinth of books.

“You must be a big shot here; I’ve never been able to go around a library with a drink in my hand.”

You shrugged it off. “I used to volunteer all the time here when I was younger. They know me well enough that I’ll be careful as well as anyone I bring in. You seem like someone who respects books.”

“I do.”

“What about e-books?”

“Oh, God.”

Exasperation was in his tone and you laughed again. “Good. I love my job but I’d much rather have a physical book in my hand than a tablet.”

“I’m so glad for that, we’re becoming a rarity.”

“We are, antiques.”

You both grinned at one another, before the stare became too intense and you looked away.

“So where are we exactly?”

“In one of my favorite sections.”

Holding out a book you pointed to the label, his brow arching.

“YA? You like young adult books?”

You placed a hand on your hip in mock anger. “Oh, so because I’m past the age I cannot enjoy them?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that –“

“Have you ever read Neal Shusterman?”


“Here you go then. And that’s one interjection to me now.”

He scanned the book you had given him, pursing his bottom lip before going to a chair. You watched as he flipped the book open and with his index finger guiding him began to turn the pages at an alarming speed.

“Oh, you’re one of those, are you?”

“One of those?”

“A speed demon, I’ve only met a few, but they always made me look bad during the summer programs here. Like three hundred books to my seventy-five bad.”

He grinned his eyes returning to the page. “That’s still impressive.”

“Thank you. I’ll let you revel in the awesomeness in peace.”

He watched you a moment, hoping you weren’t leaving, his eyes returning to the book when you settled with one of your own opposite him. You had only gotten a few chapters into a Lemony Snicket when he closed the book.


“That was very interesting, it was sci-fi, but also a lot of current events.”

“So is interesting good or –“

“I really liked it, there’s more too, isn’t there?”

“Yep, they’re over there, I’m sure you could knock them out before we finish our coffee, then we can get more and debate.”

He grinned. “That sounds like a plan.”

As he went to collect the remaining books his phone started to beep, and you had to force down the reprimand of having it on in a library. You knew with his kind of job it had to be on, but the habit was there. His tone was slightly annoyed and he sighed as he hung up.

“I have to go.”


“I really don’t want to.”

“I understand. Do you…are you going to take the books with you, at least?”

“Yeah, yes, that’d be good, then we can debate when we go out again.”

“Again, I haven’t scared you away?”

He laughed. “Not in the slightest. We’re rarities, remember, we have to stick together.”

“I suppose we do, um, I guess –“


“Before I lose my nerve I guess I should –“

Standing on tiptoes, you brushed your lips along his cheek, taking in the smooth, warm texture.

Blushing, you covered your mouth again. He stared at you a long moment.

“Well, before I lose my nerve…”

He tugged the material down, swooping quickly and planting a chaste kiss on your lips.

You both stared at each other, and you wondered if he’d kiss you again, hell, you were about to go in yourself. But his phone started beeping again.

“Son of a bitch!”

You giggled, causing him to smile at you. “I’ll call you as soon as I can okay?”

“Okay. Be careful. Protect those books.”

“With my life. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

And with one last look behind him, he was out of view. Letting you take the opportunity to collapse back in a chair before you fainted.

Midnight Memories

Request: Another high school au where you and Frank are best friends and you’re spending the night at his house and he wakes you up sleep talking and he mumbles ‘i love you Y/N’ and it’s really fluffy after that

“Do we have to watch this movie?” Frank whined as pulled out a copy of the Fault In Our Stars and slid it into his DVD player.

“Yes! You’ve never seen it before!”

“I don’t want to watch a chick flick”.

“Frank Anthony Iero, this movie is so much more than a basic chick flick and you must watch the movie of our generation”.

“It’s Frank Anthony Iero Jr, actually”.

“Hey, watch your attitude. Keep it up and you can spend your Friday night by yourself” I sassed back. Frank held his hands up in defense and patted a spot next to him. I laid down next to him as I began to hear the opening credit music playing on his TV. Frank and I have been best friends since the day I moved next door to him when we were 5. We’ve been through everything together. Elementary school, Middle school, depression, breakups, chicken pox…literally everything. Even though we are now in high school, our parents still let us have sleep overs. This was our Friday night tradition: pig out on pizza rolls, play some of his old COD games (Frank refuses to buy new ones because their all “trash” now), bullshit about how are week went while listening to his collection of records, and then end the night of with a movie. 

“Who the hell smokes as a metaphor?”

“He dosen’t smoke. He ‘puts the killing thing between his teeth but dosen’t give it the power to kill him’” I teased.

“That’s stupid” Frank huffed.

~2 hours later~

I wiped my eyes as the movie finally came to an end. I’ve seen The Fault In Our Stars a thousand times and read the book, but I still cry every time at the end. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I sniveled as I got up to turn off the DVD player. “Frank?” I turned around to see Frank’s bloodshot red eyes and teared stained cheeks as he was getting up to put more blankets on his bed. “Ye-yeah. It was alright” He said quietly.

“Frankie, are you crying?”

“You know I don’t like cancer movies!” Frank groaned as I hugged him from behind.

“It’s okay Frankie, let it out” 

“Shut up smart ass” Frank laughed, “I’m beat, lets go to bed”.

I woke up to Frank’s voice. I looked at Frank’s alarm clock on his dresser while rubbing my eyes, the blinking red numbers read: 3:45. “Frank, what do-”

“mmhhpff” Frank groaned in response, rolling over to face me.

“Frank?” I yawned

“…18 year old dudes with one leg…” Frank slurred out. I had to cover my mouth to avoid laughing. Frank’s mom has told me how much he talks in his sleep, but i’ve never heard it for myself. “Metaphoorrr” Frank mumbled. This movie stuck on him more than I thought. “Your my infinity…y/n”


“I love you, y/n” Frank smiled and rolled back over, cuddling his pillow. Not knowing what else to do, I laid back down, hearing him mutter my name a few more times before I fell asleep. 

“Y/n? Y/n, wake up! My mom made us breakfast” Frank lightly shook me awake. I opened my eyes and looked up at Frank. Something was different now. I noticed the little specks of green in his eyes, how his morning bed hair shot out in all different directions, the way the morning light made his face shine, how all the baby fat on his face has thinned out into a strongly defined jawline. For the first time I actually looked at him as a boy and not just my geeky best friend. “Did you sleep well?” Frank asked as he handed my plate of eggs and bacon. 

“Uh kinda” I replied shortly.

“Kinda?” he looked confused as he plopped down next to me. 

“Well, uh, you kinda talk in your sleep…”I said quietly, quickly shoving some bacon into my mouth.

“Talk in my…” Frank’s eyes grew wide when he realized. “Um, h-how much did you hear?”

“A lot. About me” I hated confrontation but it didn’t feel right not letting Frank know that I know  how he feels.

“Oh” Frank murmured, not knowing what to say.

“And…I love you too” I said quietly, feeling a big weight being let off my shoulder.

“You do!?” Frank gasped, his head shooting up to look at me. 

“I do. I didn’t realize until last night. I always thought these feelings were just because of how close we are. But now I know. I love you Frank Iero Jr”. Frank turned his body around, facing me.

“Frank Anthony Iero Jr” He teased. He glanced down at my lips for a second.”Can I…?” He whispered out, his voice low. I nodded. He slowly brushed his lips against mine. Our lips moved in sync, his tongue slowing gliding against my bottom lip.

“FRANK, GEE’S HERE!” We both quickly pulled apart, startled at Mrs. Iero’s outburst. Frank gave me a quick peck on the lips and said quietly in my ear “we’ll continue that later”. Just as Frank got up, Gerard walked in, collapsing on the bed next to me.

“What are you guys up to?” 


lol all the clothes i wore last summer are too big for me now and uhhhh i don’t have money to replace them oops

I feel like crying tbh, my grandma’s van has been bleeding us money for nearly two years now, one thing after the other afte the other, first one of her tires blows, the next thing one of her belts if fucked, the next her car just starts fucking leaking oil becase the last guy who fixed it accidentally put a whole in a hose, and just so much stuff. It has cost so much money and it hurt because NO ONE would help us when we can hardly drive around town

My grandma met a really nice couple who wants to get rid of their current van because they want to downsize, a van is just to big and they don’t need to anymore ( since their grandkids and kids are old enough to drive now ) and my grandma mentions how she NEEDED a van and they are going to sell it too her, and it’s so nice. It’s a little old but it’s nice and it’s a fucking blessing honestly, i really, sincerely hope that it’s a good van and that we aren’t gonna get a pile of junk from these people but my god i’m so happy and my grandma is happy

allisongaynolds  asked:

V, I, C, T, O, R, I, A ;^)c

V - Big dreams?

uhhhh not really like i used to?? like i wanted to be a famous actress and shit but now i just…want to live a nice life i enjoy? with my family and my friends? im not asking for too much here,,

I - The last time I felt jealous, and why.

uhh i dont know exactly when but not too long ago and i got jealous of all my classmates cause they all got work to do wherever they are doing their internship and i spend 8h everyday doing nothing :/

C - How long it’s been since I’ve kissed.

i…..a month? but i dont know if i should count that one it was barely a kiss so oooo then…. 6 months

T - 3 things I love unconditionally.

cats, or well animals in general, music, art

O - Where would I like to travel


  1. japan
  2. egypt
  3. norway
  4. greece
  5. russia
  6. sweden
  7. ireland
  8. italy
  9. california

R - Is cheating ever okay?

no wtf

A - If I’m in love.

yes im in love with LIFE!!! haha sike i am dead inside

anonymous asked:

I'm a huge Stroman fan but the angels dugout looked so upset/pissed after that game me and now I'm just :( do you think that stro went too far or is this only a big deal cause zaun went off about it?

I honestly saw no problem with it and don’t think Stro went to far and yes I do think it’s been blown out of proportion because Zaun said something about it. 

In fact, when I saw Stro yelling at Russ*** right after last out I automatically press the record button on my screen recorded cause I loved it so much and knew I wanted to GIF it. I was watching the game via MLB.TV and didn’t get to see what Zaun said until I saw twitter exploding about it. 

If he went too far, what exactly did he do to go “too far”? When he was yelling and screaming he was yelling directly to Russ, he wasn’t turned to the Angels dugout to egg them on. He was celebrating his accomplishments and his hard work paying off

If the Angels seemed upset/pissed with how Stro celebrated maybe the need to check themselves. Isn’t it more likely they’re directing their disappointment/shame in losing to a 5-13 team towards the gleeful celebration of the pitcher that just handed them the L. 

The End

We have thought about this a hundred times
and rewritten it a hundred and one.
The way you called me
baby and kissed my shoulder made me feel like I was loved.
I know now
that reading between the lines is reckless.
This is the path you put me on; I just followed it to the end.
There wasn’t a single fork in the road for me to take.
And so we’ve reached the big finale
where I cry under the water for the last time.
You keep telling me from the other side of the curtain
that I was just too much for you,
but I only want you to shut up.

Casual Affair

Author: @living-with-brallon (my side blog)
Rating: General
Words: 2.1k
Pairing: Dallon Weekes and Brendon Urie

Am I more than just a hook up? *no mention of smut*

I walk into the library at lunch, my safe place. The place where I don’t get bullied about how much I read, how tall I am or how shy I am. At least they don’t know my most major secret, the one on liking the most popular fuckboy in our year, Brendon Urie. The way his brown eyes sparkle, how perfect his hair, his perfectly toned stomach. Snap out of it Dallon he would never be into a guy like you, not with the followers he has, the girls all trying to get him in their pants and then crying when he leaves them the next week for a different girl.

The person who knows about my secret is my sister, my only friend I had left last year to go travelling. As I walk to my usual spot to read quietly after having finished my lunch in the overly crowded hormone filled cafeteria, I hear the all too familiar voice I have come to love. I turn around and walk in the opposite direction while thinking to myself, get yourself together Dallon, it’s just a stupid little crush no big deal, plus he’s straight not bi or gay.

The bell that signals lunch is over goes off breaking my thinking space, I didn’t get much reading done, my thoughts kept traveling somewhere else. To someone else, I had PE now with guess who, that’s it Brendon. The class went fast for the last class on a Thursday, I had decided to have a shower afterwards before leaving but just my luck I bumped into someone. “Shit I’m sorry dude.” The same voice I had heard earlier; my cheeks went red as he looked up at my face.

“Look, don’t worry about it I was going to get changed,” I say as I realise I still have the towel wrapped around my waist and nothing else on. To my luck no one else was in the changing room and my towel hadn’t fallen or else that would have embarrassing, I snap out of my dream to see Brendon eyeing me up and down.

Brendon’s POV

I was heading to have a shower when I accidently walked into someone, they felt warm, they must have just gotten out of the shower as well. Weird I didn’t think anyone was in here, “Shit I’m sorry dude,” I say calmly and look up to see who it is, his brown hair stuck to his forehead, icy blue eyes staring down at me and a smile that could make anyone week. Fuck dude snap out of this, you’re straight or are you?
“Look, don’t worry about it I was going to get changed.” I manage to hear him says shyly, his cheeks go red, aww he must be embarrassed. My eyes wander down from his face to his toned stomach and then eventually towel wrapped loosely around his waist, beads of water all over his skin making him appear like a god. Ok maybe not fully straight, he leaves to go get changed as I leave to have a shower as well. Maybe he will still be there when I get out, I should give him my number, experimenting can’t hurt can it?

Dallon’s POV

He finally leaves to go take a shower, I go and get changed and sit down for a while head in my hands thinking about how this little crush has gotten out of control. I hear the water turn off so I quickly get up and shuffle outside not wanting to get embarrassed yet again, I get outside and then remember I left my jumper on the bench, “Fuck,” I sigh to myself. I walk back in there, no Brendon in sight, I sigh before waling right into him. This time he only has a towel around his waist.

“Well, well, well we meet again.” He says while placing his hands on his hips.
I-, I- , I- was just grabbing my jumper,” I stutter out, god Dallon have some composure. He smirks and writes something on a piece of paper and hands it to me, it his phone number.

“We can’t keep meeting like this, not that I mind,” he says winking at me, no this can’t be real.He was making out someone yesterday and now he’s claiming he wants to meet up with me, ME of all people. No he can’t have a crush on me, I’m just plain Dallon Weekes and he’s Brendon Urie. He’s seen as a god and I’m seen as well a geek.

I grab my jacket and quickly run out and head to my car, I need to clear my mind but I also need to go home and cook dinner since my parents are out tonight. I drive home and see my sister is already home, she’s the complete opposite of me. She has tons of friends, goes out to parties every other weekend and is very outgoing.

I go into the kitchen and look through the cupboards to see what we have; a box of crackers fell out. “Shit,” I curse under my breathe, my sisters walks in at the wrong.

“Hey little bro, is everything fine?” she asks, I nod but she can sense that something isn’t fine. “Tell me what’s wrong?” she asks again but I focus on picking the crackers up, the piece of paper that had Brendon’s number on it falls out of my pocket at the wrong time.
She grabs it before I could, “Give it back,” I ask but it’s too late. She insisted I tell her who’s number it is and why I have it, I tell her the whole story of what happened after PE. She smiles and gives me a smirk that tells me I should ring him; he must want to meet up again. I sigh and grab the number before dialling it.

“Hey Brendon here.”

“Hey Brendon, you gave me your number earlier and said to ring it to meet up again.” I sigh, “What do you mean?” I question him.

There is a pause on the other line then a sigh, “Look Dallon come over to my place at say like 9 and I’ll show you what I meant.” With that the line went off and later on I got a text from him with his address, I told me sister I was off to friend’s house and she gave me a look that said yea sure a ‘friend’.

I pulled up at his house, I sat in the car for a while thinking. What if he is pulling a prank on me, what if he just wants to be friends, what if I’m just another hook up. Do I want to embarrass myself by being another one of his hook ups he tosses in the trash after a week or when he gets bored?

I take one more shaky breathe before walking up to his door and knocking, a minute has passed and no one has answered. As each minute passes I wonder if I should turn around and leave, another minute passes but he finally opens the door. He’s dressed in black skinny jeans and a white shirt that hugs his body, he invites me in and I turn to ask him about this but before I could his lips are on mine.

Our lips move in sync with each other, tongues fighting for dominance. He breaks the kiss, both of us are out of breath and panting. He grabs my hand and drags me upstairs, god am I ready for this. He pulls me into his bedroom and closes the door, his lips are back on mine. He undoes the buttons on my shirt and manages to get it undone and off, I follow his lead and lift his shirt over his head. Lips only leaving mine when the shirt is over his head then they are back.

I look at the clock, it flashes 2:30am, I stare at the black ceiling. Brendon’s head is resting on my bare chest, his hair is perfectly messy and his breathing is steady as he sleeps. I kiss the top of his head and mumble, “I love you.” I freeze as he stirs hoping he didn’t hear what I just said, luckily he didn’t.

Sleep overcomes me once again and I don’t wake up again until 6:30, I look at the time and yell, “Fuck I’m going to be late.” I hear movement down stairs and that’s when I remember what happened last night, I put my shirt back on and sneak downstairs hoping I can sneak out and be gone and never speak of this again. I get the bottom of the stairs and see Brendon shirtless only in sweatpants and cooking breakfast, I drop my worries and go to see what he is cooking. He plates up bacon and eggs and hands one to me while smiling.

I smile back and the butterflies erupt in my stomach at the thought of his lips on mine, we eat in silence and I break it by asking about school today. He simply says we won’t go, I agree and go over and hug him from behind as he washes the plates. He tenses at my touch then relaxes as I start to place kisses down his neck and on his shoulder, he turns around and smirks before I find myself pushing him up against the wall and kissing his lips. He kisses back with just as much passion as last night, when we stop kissing I question him.


“Yea, Dal.” He replies as he turns the tv on and sits next to me.

“What did last night mean to you?” I question him and grab a piece of popcorn and place it in my mouth.

“Honestly at the beginning it was just an experiment-“ he said playing with his thumbs, I didn’t let him finish. I knew all this didn’t mean anything to him, how was I so dumb to think that I actually had a chance. I got up and went to run to my car, I heard him yelling my name but I had to get away from the memories of last night. The tears started to fall from my eyed and roll down my cheeks, I slammed the door in his face. I didn’t care at this point, I just wanted to disappear. I drove him and ran straight up to my room, I sat on my bed and let the tears roll down my cheeks and fall onto my bed.

I checked my phone and saw 50 missed calls from Brendon, 84 texts from him and a couple from my sister. I unlocked and looked at all the messages from him and the ones from my sis, I go to lock my phone but I get a call. The caller id says Brendon, I try to decline it but click on answer instead. I sit there for while debating whether to end it or to hear me out, decide to hear him out even if it meant getting hurt anymore. “Explain,” I say maybe a bit too harsh but what he did was unforgivable.

“Look Dallon I didn’t mean it like that,” he says sounding stressed.

“How did you many it then?” my voice cracks at the last part, I hold back tears but they force their way out.

He pauses before saying, “Please don’t cry Dallon,” noticing my small sobbing noises that manage to escape my mouth.

“How did you mean it.” I snap at him not wanting to fuck around.

“Look I meant to say that I have developed feelings for you Dallon, all those girls I had been with were all distraction. I was trying to force myself to be straight, I was trying to force my feelings for you away.” He says choking up on the last part, I am left speechless.

The man I have had crush on for three years now likes me back, “Look Dallon, I like you. Like really like you, do you want start over again.” He continues, I sigh and blink my tears away. Do I really trust him after he made me look like a fool?
Do I really love this man? Of course I do.

“Sure.” Is all that escapes my mouth before I could think of a reason to say no, he says he will be here soon before hanging up leaving me alone with my thoughts again. I walk into the bathroom to see a tall man with red cheeks and blue eyes that look like they have been broken. I wait in silence until Brendon arrives, is this a good idea I keep questioning to myself.


30 Days of OTP ♦ 28: Arranged Marriage AU 

[part 1 of 3]

The Girl Who Came Back (Eleventh x Reader)

Character: Eleven Doctor

Fandom: Doctor Who

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader

Title: The Girl Who Came Back

Requested by anon:

Oneshot with eleven? Maybe he refuses to admit any feelings for her despite them being obvious to everyone except her herself and vice versa and so amy takes the situation into her own hands and forces the doctor to finally admit his feelings and she’s relieved cause she loves him but thought he loved amy?

A/N: This one is a complicated one because of the plot I came up with. It’s always hard to write about time travelling and paradoxes and stuff, but I hope you enjoy it!!

“Exterminate!” Even in 1964, we stumbled upon Daleks.

The Doctor and I ran away from them as there were too many to fight them.

When I felt I was safe, I stopped running. I leaned on my knees to get my breath back and wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.

“That was close. Right, Doctor?” I looked next to me, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Doctor?”

As we ran away from the Daleks, I had lost him. We must have ran in different directions without realizing.

“Brilliant” I sighed in annoyance, wondering where he could be at the moment.

I had to find him.

Once my breathing had got to normal after my little dash, I got ready to look for him.

As I ran again, I bumped into someone.

“There you are! You came back!” The Doctor received me with a grin.

“I always find my way back” I beamed, knowing it was only pure luck.

He grinned wider and picked up my hand, dragging me along with him.

“Quick, let’s get back to the TARDIS!”

“Can I drive it now?” I pleaded as I struggled to keep up with his long legs.

I had been travelling with the Doctor for so long. It felt like I had known him and his wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff all my life. I met him before his last regeneration. He used to say ‘allons-y’ all the time back then. Now he just liked to randomly yell ‘geronimo!’

And I knew pretty much how the TARDIS worked. I was so fascinated by it that I observed him and eventually learnt how to use it myself.

“No, no one touches my TARDIS” He let go of my hand as he halted to a stop.

“Talking about it, where is it?” I glanced around, looking for the big blue police box. Couldn’t miss it.

“I could swear I left it here” The Doctor scratched his head in confusion.

“Me too!”

He spun around himself comically, as if the TARDIS was at his back.

“Let’s take a look around, maybe it’s somewhere else” I took ahold of his hand and dragged him away from there, going through many streets and searching for the TARDIS.

The Doctor kept mumbling in concern, wondering what he would do now without his time machine.

“There it is!” I pointed at it as soon as I noticed the big box.

We had just arrived at the same spot that we began looking it for in.

“That was odd…” The Doctor made a face as he slowly walked towards his spaceship and softly rubbed its surface, whispering something to it that sounded a lot like: “Hello, sexy”

I just shrugged and came in as he walked in circles around it, examining like that would give him the secrets of the universe.


Another adventure and another danger.

Out of all the creatures we had encountered, these were the most terrifying to me. Weeping angels.

Not even the Daleks provoked me such fear. Who would want to be thrown back so long into the past? Lose life as you know it? Your friends, your family, your house? Everything!

I had turned around and found myself face to face with one. I had screamt at the top of my lungs because I was terrified of them. The Doctor was soon behind me and stood between the terrible creature and me.

He got hold of my wrist and stared at the statue.

“Don’t blink” The Doctor reminded me, still holding my wrist tightly to make sure I still was there next to him.

I was shaking in fear as I tried to keep my eyes open and fixed upon the weeping angel, which observed me still with its terrible stone eyes and threatening sharp teeth.

“I need to go back for my sonic screwdriver” The Doctor told me, his glare still on the statue before him. “Stay here, and don’t blink!”

“Doctor!” I called him, feeling a lot more vulnerable if he wasn’t there with me.

“Hold on!” He exclaimed as he ran off.

I bit my lip and gulped hard, focusing on holding its glare.

Carefully, I walked backwards to stablish a distance between it and me.

But without realizing, I blinked.

I screamt when I felt the creature quickly advance towards me, and I covered my eyes with my hands, not brave enough to face it anymore.



I uncovered my eyes and found myself in somewhere familiar, a strong sense of dejavu washing over me. I had been there before.

Truth to be told, travelling with the Doctor for so long, we had been pretty much in every single era the Earth had seen.

But I remembered that place like I had been there yesterday. In fact, maybe I was!

In a rush, I ran to a news-stand that stood in the middle of the streets and looked at the date: 8th May, 1964.

The Doctor and I had been there on 13th, so if I waited five days, I’d had my opportunity to get back.

I was as lucky as always! If I waited, I would have access to a time machine!

In fact… didn’t the TARDIS disappear for a few minutes? We thought we had misplaced it, but it was probably me!

I knew what I had to do. I had done it in the past, I mean the future. I had to be really careful, though.

I would wait and when the Doctor and my other self arrived in 1964, I would borrow the TARDIS and travel back to my year, to 2015. Since the Doctor and the other Y/N would still need the TARDIS, I’d have to configure it so it would go back on its own, but I probably could do that.

The plan was ready in my head. I just had to wait and perform it.

If I survived for a few days in 1964 that was.


I quickly got out of the TARDIS, knowing it would go back soon if I had done everything right.

As if I would change everything just by moving too fast, I carefully walked the streets, wondering if I had made it.

After I took a brief look around, I was positive: I was back in 2015.

I silently thanked the gods or whatever superior forces there were for paying so close attention to how the Doctor manipulated his TARDIS.

As expected, the TARDIS began making its characteristic noise and slowly faded away until it completely disappeared.

Hoping I would be as lucky as I usually was, I walked down the streets of London. The Doctor could be around here somewhere.

A tall lanky man wearing a red fez caught my attention. It was him, no mistake. He loved those hats.

With a big smile on my face, I began running towards him.


The man fastly turned around, his fez almost falling off his head.

“Y/N?!” He exclaimed, amazed.

He ran in my direction too until we collided in a familiar and intimate hug.

“So this is the famous Y/N” A redheaded girl said behind the Doctor.

“Sorry, who are you?” I asked her, trying not to be rude.

“Amy Pond, Y/N” The Doctor happily introduced us. He was delighted because I was back. “Y/N, Amy Pond”

We shook hands as she stared at me in awe. I wondered what the Doctor told her about me.

“How did you come back?” The Doctor was so shocked to see me, almost as if I was only a mirage.

I had taken the easy route, but he had waited decades until I got back.

“I took the TARDIS while we were travelling to 1964” I explained, and his expression lit up with realization.

“That’s why the TARDIS disappeared for a while!” He exclaimed excitedly. “It was there! I knew I left it there! You took it!”

“Yes. And then I configured it so it would go back on its own”

“Yes!! Brilliant, Y/N!!”

“Are you going to tell her before she fades away again?” Amy shoved him, sending him an odd glare. “You kept talking about her!”

“Tell me what?”

“You’re right, Amy Pond” The Doctor ignored my question.

Amy smirked as she watched us closely.

“I’m not going to let you go again without telling you: I love you”

I stared at the Doctor in disbelief, my mouth agape. I thought that he had replaced me once I had disappeared, that he didn’t love me because he had that new girl with him. But I was glad to see I was mistaken.

“Really?” I asked him with a smile that slowly took over my face.

“Yes, I-“ Before he could finish his sentence, I placed my hands on his face and smashed my lips against his on impulse.

The kiss was surprisingly good for an old humanoid alien, I must say.

For a moment, he looked at me with wide eyes and with a faint blush on his cheeks. But soon he recovered and grinned.

“My TARDIS girl” He beamed, obviously very proud of my deed. “You made it back again”

“I always find my way back” I smiled, being glad to be reunited with him again.

One doesn’t realize how much you can miss him until he disappears.

The Doctor gave me a big hug as I noticed Amy smiling next to us.

He sighed softly against my ear, blowing my hair away.

“The girl who came back”

Day 7: Time Travel

I just really wanted the kids to meet their father’s family~ (My headcanon is that Boruto is a big softy for babies! The last time he was like this was when Hinata was pregnant with Himawari.) Credit to my friend @too-much-for-feels for helping me with these ideas! She’s great! This ends Sunshine Siblings Week and now I can start NaruHina Month soon! ENJOY!