#Double Deck Burgers

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

A SOCAL CLASSIC, AND MY ALL-TIME FAVORITE BURGER SPOT IN LOS ANGELES.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on the inside menu illustration of the "Big Boy" himself -- the iconic mascot of Bob's Big Boy Restaurants, and "Home of the Nationally-Famous Original Double-Decker Burger."

Sources: Instagram & www.bigboywi.com.

[livingemkayde]

carousel 

neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: Rated 18+, CONSIDER THIS YOUR COMMUNITY LABEL minors please dni, smut, age gap, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, praise kink, light choking, dom!joel, dirty talk, pet names. can you tell i have a thing for car sex. Probably more but…yk. 

a/n: im so grateful you guys are giving me the opportunity to share my writing with a huge community. I cant thank you enough. This has been an outlet for me emotionally that i never anticipated. I love writing and i love love love reading your feedback. just for all the love you get double the smut. thank you again. please enjoy. 

if u wanna listen to a song while reading, Let The Light In by ldr was playing while i wrote this lol. apple music spotify

wc: 5k (jesus)

this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:

part i part ii part iii

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

He pumps his cock with your slick on his hand, moving so it's trained at your aching entrance — his hand shoots out above your head and braces himself on the car door.  “Fuckin’ in the car like teenagers,” he grunts, running his tip along your clit.  “Please Joel,” you whine. You don’t know if you can take it any longer.  Joel squeezes the tip in, your walls accept him graciously, the desire to be filled overwhelming your senses.  He slides in slowly. You whine for him to go faster.  “Need you — please, just —”  “Shut up — fuck — not gonna last,” he groans into the crook of your neck. 

You try not to think about Joel — somewhere in the back of your mind you know it’s dangerous that he occupies so much of your brain at all times. 

But you really can’t help yourself. 

Especially when his stares linger a bit too long.

Or when your dad makes burgers and Joel’s thigh grazes against yours under the table. 

And definitely not when his hands find your waist when everyone is shuffling around the kitchen, putting dishes away. 

And it might physically hurt to ignore him when Sarah convinces you to run into the ocean at midnight and he’s waiting with towels for you on the deck — his hands brushing your ass when he wraps the towel around your body. 

You thought you might have been doing an okay job at it, until you find yourself outside his bedroom door, contemplating knocking. You really didn’t want to seem desperate. But the tug in your lower stomach sends you forward, bracing your hand to knock. 

You look to your left, Sarah's room is at the end of the hall and your dad’s is around the corner. You tiptoed through the dark hallway to get some water and you couldn’t help but walk past his door — to your surprise the light was on — seeping out under the door into the hallway. 

You hear him moving. And the light turns off at your feet. You gasp and move back. But he opens the door, and catches you outside his room. 

He meets you with a curious face. You read the silent question etched into it. 

What are you doin’?

You shake your head, attempting to convey an overall I wasn’t doing anything vibe but he gives you a knowing look that makes you blush. 

He nods his head towards the stairs and moves past you. 

You follow his figure. He’s wearing pants that hug his hips and a t-shirt. He’s very simple. Yet he’s very Joel, and you can’t take your eyes off him.

He leads you into the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge, you sit at the table. 

When he joins you, it’s almost like you’re both too scared to make any noise, you sit in silence, watching him as he tips the beer, sipping it, while keeping his eyes trained on you. 

You aren’t dressed for the occasion, and it's a bit cold, but you don’t think he minds. 

“I was just getting some water,” you manage to get out, your voice a bit hoarse. 

“Sure,” he replies, tipping his beer towards you, chuckling a bit.

“What? I was,” you say defensively. 

“Your room was the other way,” he notes, shrugging. 

You blush and try to hide your face.

“Whatever.”  

“S’alright, baby,” he says coolly — like his words don’t shoot down right to your core, “Just didn’t know you were so needy.” 

“Fuck you,” you mumble, a laugh crinkling your eyes, “You’d like that,” you bite. 

He laughs too. 

“Maybe I would,” he says. 

A few beats pass. There’s enough tension at the table you could cut it with a knife. 

“You wanna tell me?” 

“Not really,” you tease him with a smirk, “I was just surprised you were awake is all,” you say when he doesn’t respond, leaning back in your chair. 

He lets out a huff and downs the rest of his beer. 

“Could say the same ‘bout you.” 

“I’ve got some things on my mind,” you say sheepishly, teasing. 

“Yeah?” 

You nod. 

“What things?” 

You stand, stalking towards him, he parts his legs to let you slot yourself in between his thighs. He looks up at you. 

“Don’t be an ass,” you mumble while looking at his lips, “You know what things.”

“I don’t play guessin’ games.”

“I’m not playing any games,” you quip back. 

Something in your tone switches the conversation.  

It sort of stops Joel in his tracks. He looks up at you, and then his hand finds your hip, pushing against the bone. His fingers dip into your shirt, rubbing over the bruise he pushed into your skin from earlier — he bends to place a chaste kiss to the bruise. It makes your breath hitch. You think he might push you away, or tease you for being bratty with him. But he looks up at you with caramel brown eyes. 

“On your knees then,” he says, stone-cold. 

Your eyes widen, and you look around the kitchen in shock even though you know you’re alone with Joel. 

He looks up at you — maybe a little shocked that you comply so quickly without putting up a fight. But you were a goner the second you walked by his room and your body is dropping in between his legs before you know any better. 

Your knees hit the floor and you sit back on your heels, settling in between his feet. 

He groans and pushes forward to rest his elbows on his knees, looking down at you. One hand grabs your face, tilting it up so you’re looking at him. The hold on your jaw squishes your cheeks a bit. 

“You want it?” he says. 

Your eyes intuitively look down to his zipper. 

You nod. 

“Use your words.” 

“Yes,” you let out as best you can with his hand on your jaw. 

“Fuckin’ dirty girl,” Joel groans. His hand keeps your jaw in place, the other undoes his belt and frees his cock. 

“Thought ‘bout me all night, huh?” 

You nod out of habit. 

“What I just fuckin’ say?” he shakes his head, the hold on your jaw comes down to your throat, squeezing gently. 

“Yes — yes,” you say quickly. 

You look down to his cock again, the tip of it gleaming with precum. It sends a white heat straight to the apex at your thighs. 

“Please,” you whimper, looking up at him, “Can I?” 

Joel can’t resist you. You both know that much. 

“Alright,” he drops his hand from your throat. “C’mon princess.” 

He leans back slightly. You spring to your knees, not waiting for his permission, and take the tip of his cock into the heat of your mouth. The saltiness of it hits your tongue and you whimper around his length. It makes him groan. 

“Shit.” you hear him curse above you. 

He gathers your hair, raking it up into a mess at the top of your head. You suck and lick his tip, teasing him a bit before he gets impatient and pushes your head down. You don’t mind his advances, bracing your tongue for his length. 

But he’s big. 

Bigger than the few you’ve had — and you choke when he hits the back of your throat. You brace yourself on his thigh, trying to take the little he’s pushing you down on. 

“You can take it baby, c’mon. Slow.” 

His words shoot straight down to your cunt. You try but you’re not used to his length. 

“Chokin’ on it, c’mere —” he makes a move to pull his cock from your mouth but you whimper and slide in more across your tongue. He groans, “— fuck, baby.” 

You want to take more. You know you can take more. 

“Doin’ so good,” he grunts when you swallow more of him, “Fuck — you —”

Joel's hand holding your hair moves to your face. He runs his thumb across your cheek. It makes you look up at him through your lashes. His praise rings in your ears, and you can feel your hot slick dribble down your thighs. 

He stares at you taking him — mouth slack with lust. His rich drawl, velvet, coaxes you down further. 

“Goddamn angel —” he moans, “— so fuckin’ perfect.” 

His head tips back in pleasure when you take what doesn't fit in your mouth into your hand. 

He wipes the tears that spring from your efforts away with his thumb, looking at you kinda sympathetically. 

“Attagirl, fuckin’ made f’me, baby,” he whispers. You look up at him again, because it sounds like he might actually mean that. You press your thighs together at the thought. 

His words become quiet whimpers mixed with groans as you bob your head, steadily taking more — replacing your hand with your mouth. 

“In your fuckin’ throat,” he hisses out when your nose brushes against the mess of hair at the base. 

He slots his fingers through your hair, his hands, frantically touching you anywhere he can scramble to. 

When Joel goes silent you know he’s close. His soft breath becomes pants above you. 

When he grips your hair hard, you know he’s teetering on the edge and who are you to deny him?

His hips slightly cant towards your mouth, chasing his high, and he spurts down your throat in hot succession. He lets out a string of curses followed by your name. It makes you blush as you swallow. 

You release his cock from your mouth, sinking back onto your heels as you rest your cheek on his thigh. His breath rises and falls and you watch the place where his heart should be rhythmically moving. 

“Don't fuckin’ look at me like that,” he says, shaking his head and trying to avert his eyes. You look up at him, lazy, the slick between your thighs is enough to put a tortured look through your brows. 

His thumb wipes your chin, some cum dragging across your swollen lips, and sticks his thumb back into your mouth as you suck it clean. 

“Jesus, baby.” 

“What?” you smile back at him. 

Joel looks down at you, resting against his knee, in between his legs, your eyes lidded with lust and exhaustion. 

He bends down to kiss your lips, and then your forehead, whispering into your skin —

“You’re killin’ me.”

_

Everyone takes it easy the next morning, Sarah dips into the ocean in the afternoon, you help your dad with lunch. 

It's uneventful but it's nice. 

Your dad suggests going to the boardwalk for dinner, which you all agree to, Sarah wanted to check out the rides there. 

You slip into a dress, your dad said the restaurant was a bit fancy. You’re just grateful you brought a dress in the first place. You meet everyone downstairs, Joel looks up at you descending which makes you laugh a bit. It’s sort of like prom when you first come down the stairs and your date is waiting for you. Or like he’s prince charming and you’re Cinderella. 

But you get snapped out of that trance quickly. 

“Ready to go kiddo?” your dad says, moving towards the entrance. 

You smile at him, Sarah comes to your side, linking arms and goes on about how there's a ferris wheel and carousel on the boardwalk, across from the beachfront restaurants. 

You all pile into the truck, Joel in the driver’s seat. It's a short walk but it’ll be easier to drive with so many people.

Your dad was right, the restaurant is a bit fancy. And it feels like you’re suffocating when you sit down across from Joel, Sarah at your side. He looks up at you — you blush and smile to yourself, opening the menu. It’s far too formal for the four of you, but it’s a nice change. And you like seeing Joel in a button down. 

Dinner drowns on — you aren’t really paying attention to much because Joel’s foot keeps bumping into yours. Maybe it’s accidental. Or maybe it's a silent plea. 

Sarah’s voice snaps you out of it. 

“Please dad?” she asks, having cleaned her plate. 

You remember them talking in the truck, Sarah saying something about meeting a few friends her age on the beach. 

“They down near the rides?” Joel says, gruff. 

“Yes, dad. Like I’ve told you a million times,” she rolls her eyes and Joel laughs a bit, waving her off with a twenty and telling her to be safe and get back by midnight.

The two men turn their attention back to you. 

Joel’s foot knocks into yours again and you shoot him a look — though he doesn’t seem to be paying it much attention. You’d be lying if you said the uncertainty of his touches left you completely unbothered. 

You finish dinner with a coffee, the men have their drinks. 

You can't really think about much else until your dad's voice snaps you out of it. 

“So, what do you think?” 

But he's not talking to you. He's talking to Joel. 

“What do I think ‘bout what?” He asks. 

“Dude—” your dad is sipping at his whiskey, “Theresa?” 

Doesn’t seem like appropriate conversation when you’re present but that doesn’t really cross your mind because who the fuck is Theresa? 

“Uh, yeah she’s nice, man,” Joel says awkwardly. 

Nice? 

“Nice?” your dad scoffs, echoing your sentiment. 

Your dad looks over at you — “Been tryin’ to set Joel up with a lady,” he says, explaining. But it feels more like a punch in the face. Your eyes widen, you choke a little on your coffee. 

“Oh,” you say. Joel doesn’t meet your eye, “She from the neighborhood?” you inquire, thinking about the woman from the barbecue. 

Your dad nods. 

“She’s a teacher,” he says. “You probably met her at the barbecue.” 

He turns back to Joel.

“She likes you dude,” your dad says. “Think she’d be good for you.”

That feels less like a punch in the gut and more like you got roundhouse kicked in the face and slammed into the ground. You try not to let it get to you. 

“Just don’t know if I’m lookin’ right now,” is all he says in reply. You try not to look at him, but your brain subconsciously makes an effort for you, peering up at him through your lashes. He catches your eye quickly — and drops it in just as much time. 

Your dad grunts in response, waving down the waiter to get the bill. 

“What ever happened to that Liam kid?” he says, talking to you now. 

“Oh,” you reply kinda absentmindedly. You haven't really thought of Liam in a couple days. His texts remain unopened in your phone. 

“Nothing,” you shrug. 

“Hm, nice kid though,” your dad claps Joel on the back, “Ain’t you think so?” he says, talking to Joel now.

“Sure,” Joel lets out in his rich drawl. 

Another tap on your foot.

Joel’s eyes stare into yours but he doesn’t look angry — it's more of an expression you can’t read. 

He isn’t mad right? 

“Yeah,” you say, the conversation dying down. 

Your dad doesn’t see your stolen glances. 

“Why don’t you go with Joel, kiddo?” he says, fishing bills out of his wallet. 

“What?” You ask, shocked. 

“Need to handle some work-things back at the house, but I heard the boardwalk here is nice at night,” he nods over to the exit. 

You look at Joel tentatively. He nods towards the exit, giving your dad a handshake while you follow him outside. 

The cool air hits you. You shiver a bit, wrapping your arms around yourself. 

You fall into a steady stroll towards the boardwalk. You can see the lights from the ferris wheel a couple hundred feet ahead of you, the ocean water shining under the moonlight as you walk along the coast.

You look over at Joel, his hands digging into his pockets. 

“Good dinner?” you ask, smiling.

“Mhm,” he says.

You settle into the night, walking towards the carousel lighting up the center of the boardwalk. 

“C’mon, Joel,” you say, looking towards the small line waiting to get on. The lights shine a white-yellow — lighting up his eyes in the darkness. Kids scream. Adults laugh. It’s a bit too perfect. 

He looks at you and huffs. Almost like a no is already trained on his lips from habit. But when he looks at you, he stops himself. 

“Alright, c’mon,” he grabs you by your hand, interlacing your fingers and steps in line. 

The previous ride ends quickly, Joel steps on the platform first, helping you up, extending his hand. 

You both sit on one of the benches meant for parents. He drops an arm around you, like it’s second nature. You snuggle into it. 

“Haven’t been on one of these in years,” he says when the music starts and the platform begins to spin. Some kids run by, trying to claim the best animal. 

“Me too,” you say in reply. 

You remember the last time you’d been on a carousel. Your dad and Joel organized a day trip to the state fair — though it feels like forever ago — during high school. 

“State fair, remember?” You say, hesitant. 

“Yup,” he squeezes your shoulder. 

“Didn’t think you ‘member,” he continues. 

“Of course I do,” you look at him, he meets your eye. “You gave me my first sip of beer.” 

You wonder if that might strike a nerve. It’s more than a loaded statement — a bomb already counting down. 

He huffs a laugh. 

“Now look at you,” he says. 

“Yeah, all grown up or something,” you say, teasingly. 

“Or something’,” he echoes, with a huff, not meeting your eye.  

A few moments pass. 

You see a particularly pretty horse out of the corner of your eye. You begin to stand on the moving platform, Joel scrambles for your waist. 

“The hell are you doin’?” he grabs you, standing. 

You look back at him, entranced by the light circling his face. It looks perfect — he looks perfect. Picturesque. Hallmark. Like it could be a movie scene. Maybe in another life he would kiss you — with the horses spinning around you, the night sky staring down when he kisses you like nothing else matters. 

But you know Joel. 

And you know putting his arm around you was pushing his boundaries. 

“C’mon,” you pull him towards the horse that caught your eye. 

He grunts but follows you. 

You get on, both legs on one side, stumbling a bit on the way there. But you’re having fun, and Joel is here and he doesn’t want to leave. 

He stands next to the horse, looking up at you.

“Havin’ fun?” 

“Loads,” you smile at him, he smirks back, hiding his face when you touch the spot between his neck and his shoulder, squeezing. 

“You look pretty,” he cuts through the music. 

You try to hide your shock. 

Pretty. 

It's not like this with other guys. Sure, they've called you pretty, some even called you beautiful. But with Joel, you feel like he really means it. 

It also shoots down to the white heat building in your stomach. 

“You clean up nice, Miller,” you say with a blush. 

The ride ends, you both settle, walking through the boardwalk. A breeze rushes through, it sends a chill up your spine. 

You wrap your arms around yourself to trap some heat even though your efforts are fruitless. 

But Joel notices. 

“Got a jacket in the truck. C’mon,” he says, turning to walk back to the truck parked near the beach. 

You follow him. 

It might even be on instinct, but you snake your hand through his, interlocking your fingers while your other hand holds onto his arm where the crease of his elbow is. 

You don’t see him smile. 

When you get to the truck he opens the back door, leaning in to grab his jacket out of the backseat. He wraps it around your body. The smell instantly fills your nostrils and shoots down to your core. It’s his heavy work jacket and it’s entirely too big for your small frame but you like it — love it. 

When you finish putting it on, he looks at you, still standing by the open car door. He leans back against the seat cushion, looking at you with crossed arms. 

“A little big,” you giggle, showing him your hands which disappear into the canvas sleeves. 

“Looks good on you,” he says with a smile. 

You walk towards him, he wraps his arms around you. 

“Thanks,” you say into his chest. 

Joel hums in response. 

A breeze pushes on your legs and you can feel your nipples pebble against your dress — you think Joel can feel it too if his sudden stiffness is any indication.

You adjust in his arms, slotting yourself between his legs. 

You can feel him. 

“Kiss me,” you say, looking up at him. 

“We’re in public,” he doesn’t look down at you, but you can see the muscle in his jaw tick. You don’t know why he’s being withholding. No one is nearby — Joel’s truck is the only one left in the parking lot. 

“Please?” 

“Not now.” 

His tone might suggest he doesn’t actually want to kiss you. But his cock pressing hard against your stomach tells a different story. 

“Joel,” you whine, wriggling against him. 

“Quit,” he says. 

You try to stop moving. But the feeling of him, hard, against you, makes your cunt throb.

He stops you before you make any decisions. 

“Don’t.” 

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“Know you’re thinkin’ of somethin’,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Needy,” he complains. 

You’re about to drop it. But his hand snakes around your waist under his jacket. The movement hikes your dress up, his hand resting on your low back.

You are — needy. 

But you just need him.

“Joel,” you say, giving him a warning. 

“What, baby?” he says, teasing. 

“Please.” 

Not a question — a statement. 

A plea. 

Joel looks down at you for a couple seconds. Then he taps your ass towards the inside of the truck. 

“Get in,” he moves so you can crawl in first, spinning around when you get to the other side of the truck’s backseat, shucking off his jacket and hiking up your dress. He crawls in after you, shutting the door. 

He’s quick with his belt, undoing his jeans in a frantic fashion — pulling his tucked shirt out of his pants. His cock is free before you have the chance to pull down your panties. 

Joel pushes your dress up more, revealing your underwear. He plays with the straps a bit, before pushing them to the side roughly. The sudden movement causes them to rip a little.

“Joel!” you say, as he grabs your panties and stuffs them into his pocket. 

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he pants, sucking a mark into your hip. 

His fingers find your core as you lay down along the back seat, opening your legs, your thighs covered with slick. Joel’s thick fingers slide through your folds. His breath hitches and he lets out a curse to find you soaking wet, staining your legs. 

“Fuck baby, you didn’t…?” he trails off, referring to after you had his cock in your mouth and he told you to get some rest. 

You shake your head. “Waiting for you,” you pant, breathless. 

“Christ,” he groans, playing a thumb on your clit as you writhe under him. “This all for me?” 

“Yes — Joel — you,” you say through moans. 

He pumps his cock with your slick on his hand, moving so it's trained at your aching entrance — his hand shoots out above your head and braces himself on the car door. 

“Fuckin’ in the car like teenagers,” he grunts, running his tip along your clit. 

“Please Joel,” you whine. You don’t know if you can take it any longer. 

Joel squeezes the tip in, your walls accept him graciously, the desire to be filled overwhelming your senses. 

He slides in slowly. You whine for him to go faster. 

“Need you — please, just —” 

“Shut up — fuck — not gonna last,” he groans into the crook of your neck. 

“God—” you moan when he slides home, his hips pressing into your thighs. 

Joel can feel you pulsing around him. You’re dangerously close already. 

The windows gather condensation from your combined pants. 

You try to angle your hips up to meet him, fucking him back as he thrusts slowly, but that makes him groan more. 

“Jesus Christ, baby,” he says, his thick drawl wrapping all through the truck, stoking the fire burning in your low belly. 

You want more — no — need more. 

You push his chest back. He looks at you confused but compiles. He sits back in the seats, you straddle him, pushing his cock towards your entrance. 

You look at him. He stares back in awe. 

“Baby—” you cut him off by sinking down on his cock, the tip sneaking past your entrance. He lets out a strangled groan. 

You take him, inch by inch, feeling his girth stretch you out in an entirely different way at this angle. 

“Fuck, feel so good, Joel,” you settle on top of him, both of your chests panting against each other as you grind your hips a bit. “So deep,” you moan out, cockdrunk. 

His hands find your waist and hips, begging you to move — to do anything. You look down to his jacket on the seat. His work jacket. That he wears around the neighborhood. You’re not sure why but your dad’s comments about Theresa enter your mind. 

“Do you have a crush on anyone in the neighborhood?” 

“What?” he asks with a grunt. “I’m literally inside you.” 

“I know, but…” 

You shift a bit in his lap, the movement makes both of you moan out. 

“Said she’d be good for you,” you manage to get out. 

“Don’t really remember her,” he whispers, trying to push his hips into you. “‘N don’t agree.” 

“You don’t like her? — ah —” you start rocking on his hips, chasing a high that's settled in your stomach on instinct. 

“No,” he fucks into you, chasing his own.

“Then what do you think?”

His eyes dart up to yours, holding your gaze for the first time tonight, not breaking it or looking away.  

“Think I like you,” he breathes into your cheek. 

He says it with such a genuine tone even though he’s deep inside you. It makes your stomach do a flip, finding the urge to ride him incessant through your loud thoughts of what could be. When he says things like that it’s hard to ignore it any longer. When he looks at you like that you know you’re completely done for. 

“Fuck —” you say, clenching around him. 

You ride him, the notion of his words settling in your chest and pushing you towards your release quicker than you thought possible. 

You’re coming before he can respond. 

“Oh my — fuck, Joel,” you whine. 

“That’s it, attagirl — fuck,” he goes silent, chasing his own high as you relax around him. 

His hands urge you to continue moving. He kisses you, like a man starved. All your silent begging through the night erupting with one kiss as you come down from your high. It's like he was telling you at the restaurant — be patient and at the carousel — just wait. 

Your stomach tightens at the feeling of his breath on your neck, sucking and biting and just smelling your skin. 

You continue to ride him through your post orgasmic haze. He chases his own release like he's done the whole night. 

“Oh baby — I —” he groans when you nip at his earlobe. 

“Please Joel, wanna feel you,” you whisper into his ear. 

He groans at that, pushing you down by your hips faster, you grind against him, a piece of clay destined to be molded to his body perfectly. 

“Jesus — fuck,” he groans, wrapping his arms around you, sinking his teeth into your neck, and coming inside you with hot hands running over your back. 

When he relaxes under you, he presses soft kisses to your temple, you tremble from the thought of his hot slick oozing out of you through the night. 

“Did so good for me, such a good girl,” he whispers into the dark truck. 

You slump against him, he holds onto you. 

His words ring in your ears. 

Think I like you.

You smile when you look at him. 

“What?” he asks, a smirk on his lips. 

“You said you like me,” you chide, teasing him. 

“Shut up,” he breathes, laughing a bit. 

“Don’t worry,” you kiss him, “I like you too.” 

_

taglist! (comment or message me if you would like to be added) kisses to you all:

@nostalxgic @iluvurfather

@thatgirlpeaches @prettyangelsthing @loreleiintheskye @ghostofjoharvelle @vickywallace @nevertrustapanda16 @crocodiile @lovely-ateez @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @expir3dl0v3 @koshkaj-blog @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @smol-beb @bbyanarchist @evyiione @dlwrish @mishala005 @mxtokko @faeriemel @caatheeriinee07 @virgils-left-hoodie-string @sorry--for-the-mess

[jungle-angel]

Summer Shenanigans (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: In which You, Bob’s parents, Bob and the Daggers have to keep Auggie out of trouble at the Fourth of July BBQ

You were both surprised and exasperated at how much of a little devil Auggie had become. He’d always been so quiet as a baby, though being born a preemie was probably the hugest part of that. 

And then he turned two.

Auggie had begun to run wild wherever you and Bob had put him down, zooming around like your dog, Tank, whenever he had an overwhelming urge to run and chase the docked tail he had ever since you adopted him. Auggie on the other hand was constantly running around, getting into things that were constantly making you and Bob nervous and nowhere was that especially apparent than at the barbecue being held in Maverick’s backyard. 

Auggie zoomed through the grass with his Red Sox baseball cap on his head, his feet completely bare of any shoes and giggling like mad as he tried to evade his grandfather. 

“C’mere you little ghoul!” Joe commanded as he ran right after him.

Auggie lifted the lid of the beer cooler with his little hands before letting go and running again, the lid slamming shut as the two year old ran away. “I’m getting too old for this shit.....” Joe muttered. “BOB!!!” 

Bob carefully set down the plate of burgers that were almost ready for the grill when he saw his father charging across the grass after Auggie. Bob set aside the plate and hurried down the deck steps, trying to catch the giggling little miscreant, but to no avail. 

“God, where’s (y/n) when you need her?” Bob mumbled under his breath as he skidded into the grass. 

Only a moment later did you come out the back door with the potato salad to find your husband and father-in-law chasing after Auggie. “Oh shit,” you sighed. “Irene?!” 

“Yeah?” Bob’s mother called from the window. 

“The ghoul’s gotten out of his cage again!” 

Irene popped her head out the window, laughing as she watched the scene unfold. “Alright, I’ll get the rest of them,” she answered. 

You waited until the rest of the squad came out the back door from the kitchen, all of them confused as to how a two year old could be so speedy. 

“You think we can catch him?” Mickey asked. 

“Mickey if we can catch a plane in mid-air, we can catch a two year old with no problem,” Maverick answered. “Think of it as an outside training exercise.” 

As soon as you and the Daggers were ready, you were practically leaping off the deck and into the grass below, each of you running in a different direction to catch Auggie. Maverick hadn’t lied when he said it would be like a training exercise at the base with everyone running in different directions while Auggie did everything in his power to evade being captured by the grown-ups. 

“Coming in hot with the sack!” Jake announced.  

You and Bob chased Auggie from behind while Hangman scooped Auggie right up into a burlap sack, throwing it over his shoulder while his godson wriggled and squirmed inside. 

“Where the hell did you learn that from?” Natasha asked, trying to catch her breath. 

“An old rancher’s trick,” Jake answered. “Caught my first chicken this way.” 

Bob lifted Auggie right out of the sack and into his arms where he kept wriggling. “You’re way more trouble than you’re worth, August Robert,” he chuckled. 

“Wait till he joins the Navy,” Rooster joked. 

You and Bob gave each other “the look”. You knew that if Auggie did join the Navy, he and Natasha’s son, Gabe, would be double trouble.

[westside-historic]

Bob's Big Boy Jr. on Santa Monica Blvd. & Yale St. in Santa Monica in 1970. The view is looking west down SM Blvd.

Apparently what made it "Jr." was the fact that you ordered at the counter when you came in, and then the server brought the food to your table when it was ready. There was no difference in the menu, which was headlined by the Big Boy double deck burger, which they invented in 1939.

One of the ways the franchise appealed to kids was that they gave away little comic books, that featured the Big Boy character typically in some heroic light. With games and puzzles, too, it gave the kids something to do while waiting for the food. I also included a glamour shot of the dessert menu from the '70s-.80s, because it was legendary.

This Bob's was only about half a mile from where I grew up, and I ate here as often as I could talk my mom into it. It was also the first restaurant I'd seen with comment cards for patrons to describe their dining experience.

The structure itself was very cool, and likely designed by renowned local  architectural firm Armet Davis, the kings of Googie architecture in Southern California restaurants and coffee shops.

Source: https://clickamericana.com/topics/food-drink/vintage-bobs-big-boy-restaurants

[j2h5b5]

Testing the Limits

Summary: JJ Maybank’s little sister is doing some experimenting.

***

Oh. Oh shit.

That was Milly Maybank’s first thought upon waking.

And it wasn’t just because her head felt like a balloon filled with blood, stretched fit to burst and throbbing along with the beat of her heart.

Or because her mouth seemed to be filled with cotton, and tasted like something had rotted inside there.

Or because her stomach was roiling like the HMS Pogue in a high wind and she was pretty sure she was about to vomit all over these clean white sheets.

These clean white sheets on her hospital bed.

Yep, that’s why she woke up mentally cussing.

Because she didn’t have much memory of last night, but what flashed through her mind wasn’t good at all, and whatever had happened to land her here had to have been literally catastrophic. They couldn’t fucking afford a hospital.

There was a needle in her arm with a clear tube leading up to a bag on a pole like you see on TV, and a beeping monitor that was presumably alerting everyone in the room to the fact that she was alive?

Everyone. That would be … Without moving her head (both because to do so would risk popping the balloon that was keeping her liquefied brain in place and also because she was afraid to draw attention), Milly took mental stock. Pope, Kiara, Sarah, John B. And, of course, JJ.

Her brother was perched in a very uncomfortable-looking plastic chair at her bedside, his blond head resting on his arms, which were resting on the edge of the mattress. His eyes were closed and she bit her lip as a flashback of the night before fluttered vaguely at the back of her mind.

What did you take? Milly, answer me, what did you take?

JJ, she’s not hearing you, she needs a hospital.

I know, FUCK, I KNOW, let’s go. Move, just fucking move, I’ve got her. Come here, baby sister. Come on, Jay’s got you.

The world tilting on its axis as strong arms lifted her like she weighed nothing at all.

A bumpy ride, tires spinning gravel and mud, panicked fussing and bickering that made no sense, then bright lights, violent and harsh.

Then nothing.

Then this.

That was it for the details of the AFTER. From the BEFORE, she remembered more than she wanted to. The fight with her brother, hurling sharp words at all his soft spots. Blind anger making her cruel. Running off into the night. Running toward the very thing JJ was trying to keep her from in the first place. Triumphant at winning the battle.

She’d stayed gone for two days. Ignoring texts and calls from all of them and successfully staying off the radar until she got too brave and went to grab a late lunch at The Wreck. Sitting at a deck table off in the far corner with her back to the late-afternoon stragglers. She had almost finished wolfing down her burger when an open palm smacked the back of her head hard and a much-loved voice with an icy sharp edge commanded: “Hey brat. Call your damn brother.”

Looking up at Kie, Milly saw the older girl’s annoyance and responded with an admittedly childish “No.”

“He’s worried about you.”

“He’s a dick.”

“Yeah? He’s JJ. That’s not the point. You owe him better than this.”

And Milly knew she was right, which was why she doubled down. “I don’t want to talk to him yet. I’ll call him when I’m ready, and when he’s done treating me like a stupid kid.”

“Stop acting like one.”

Milly pushed her chair back and stood up from the table, making to leave. Kiara set down the tray she was carrying and reached for Milly. “Wait, wait. Where are you staying? At least tell me that. Are you being careful?”

Dodging Kie’s grasping hand, Milly shot her a look of honest apology—really, this whole thing had gotten out of hand but she didn’t know how to fix it now. “I’m fine. Tell him I’m fine.”

And she left fast, because Kiara was a good runner and Milly wasn’t positive she wouldn’t be chased all the way back to where her new friends were waiting.

And now.

When she finally tore her eyes away from the head of floppy blond hair next to her, she realized the others—all of them—were watching her.

Time to face the music.

***

TBC?

[macroartcollector]

Fun in the Sun

There was a slow rumble that soon came to a stop as I turned the car off. I look in the rear-view mirror, touching up my dark brown hair before I double check at the invite in my hand, comparing it against the house number to ensure I’m in the right place. A couple of days ago I was invited out for a Memorial Day cookout, but what was particularly odd about the paper invitation was that it didn’t say who it was from. However, the listed address wasn’t too far away and the weather was nice enough that I figured I would at least come out to see what it was all about. Not to mention I had moved in only a week before so I was very new to the neighborhood. I figured this would be an opportunity to meet some new people. A way to establish a new life.

 Opening the car door, I step out and head up through the front lawn before making my way around back as was instructed. I lifted the latch on the tall wooden gate, the bright green grass gently tickling my feet over my flip-flops as I am met with the presence of the mysterious party hostess.

Standing there in the back yard, a bottle of beer in hand, was the owner of the home and hostess of this party, she was simply stunning with her long blonde hair framing her face and a large pair of sunglasses blocking most of it. The lawn was large, populated with a modest garden along the back fence, a vast deck with several lawn chairs and a looming umbrella. A grill, cooler, and a pair of long serving tables were set up in the grass over by where the woman was standing. It was hard to tell if the sun was glowing bright, or she was. But realizing I’ve been standing still and silent for minutes, I shake out of my daze and walk over.

“Uh.. Hello. I got your invite?” I start the conversation with an inquiry.

“Greetings! Welcome to the cookout! Here, get some drink in ya.” The woman responded, her voice oozed sweetly with a bubbly flair about it that immediately put me at ease.

Taking the bottle from her hand, I pull long from the beverage, savoring the cool refreshing beer on this sweltering day.

“Thanks. I needed that. So where is everyone else?” my question hangs in the air as I take another long drink.

“Yeah you needed that,” the woman confirmed, “And don’t you worry about a thing, they’ll get here when they get here. And please, call me Aurora. Grill’s about hot so take a load off.” She flashed a smile, showing off a wall of pearls.

I smile back, and head over to one of the deck chairs. Kicking it back, I polish off the bottle and observe the serving tables. They were two card tables, the kind with the fold-out legs, set out in the sun and laid out with all matter of foodstuffs. All the kind of things anyone would need for a cookout: a tray of burgers and hotdogs, the appropriate buns, ketchup, mustard, mayo, cheese, tomato, lettuce, onion, chips, dip, a bowl of a freshly tossed salad, and various cookies set on another tray. Not to mention a cooler next to one of the tables, stocked with ice and a wide variety of beverages. I observe and take it all in, wondering when the other guests will arrive, I was certain I was on time according to Aurora’s invite. Just then I feel my eyes getting heavy, like an immense sleep was taking hold and then I go out.

Slowly and groggily I begin to wake, realizing I had conked out for a bit, I jolt up and reassess my surroundings. It was only one beer, I shouldn’t have been drunk already. Taking in my orientation, immediately I realize something is off. Instead of being in the chair that I had set up in, I was met with sight of towering monoliths of red and yellow, and looming stacks of produce. The serving table had gotten so much larger! Wait… No. I had… gotten smaller? My heart begins to pound like a drum solo as the realization hits. It is in this moment that the booming voice of Aurora confirms my fears.

“Well, now it’s a party,” her voice practically deafens me, “And just in time, food’s just coming off the grill. A bit smaller than I would have preferred but still plenty delectable.” She mused to herself.

The massive shadow of her hand came down upon me, the devious digits of her hellacious hand wrapped around my miniscule body as I was lifted into the air, with no footing below me my feet dangled. Looking down, the thought crosses my head that a drop would probably kill me, despite it only being a couple of yards high, the sense of scale at this size has made the world a much more dangerous place.

Aurora, with her other hand, took a fork and pierced the mostly burnt hotdog off the grill, and placed it on a hotdog bun that had been set out on a paper plate on the table. Due to the immense heat it was put under, the sausage had withered in size. A fact that didn’t seem to faze the culinary colossus any as she turned her attention to my diminutive form that was clasped in her other hand. Being under the gaze of her hazels should have been a blessing but it was a curse in this moment as I was lowered to the same location as before. It was seemingly her plan that any left over space from the burnt meat was to be filled by the living meat.

Her fingers release their grasp on me, but it was barely a kindness as I was welcomed into the embrace of the walls of the bun. The bread held me tight and the radiant heat of the sausage made the situation altogether uncomfortable. But the wurst was yet to come as the darkening shadow of Aurora smiled down at her creation before grabbing the condiments and dressing her meal. Cold oozing goo of yellow and crimson lazily poured on me, blinding me in the process. I felt sticky, cold and hot at the same time, but most importantly, I felt scared.

It wasn’t much longer that my world shifted again, so at least that’s what it felt like. The gluttonous Goddess had lifted her little hotdog man up into the air. She licked her lips happily and eagerly.

“Well I’m happy you made it, but it’s rude to overstay your welcome. Not to mention the next guest is supposed to arrive shortly, so don’t think me rude if my mind is elsewhere.” Her voice no long oozed like honey but instead stung like habanero.

I couldn’t see a thing given the dressing of the hotdog, but I could still hear. The gnashing and crunching as the first bite was taken of the hotdog. Aurora’s teeth tore through the bread and meat easily, like buzzsaws through wood but with even less resistance. Anxiety filled me, knowing it was only a matter of time. Here I was, a mere morsel where moments before I was a man. All of this just because I took what I thought was the hospitality of a neighbor. And it was going to cost me everything.

“Well, our time is short now, but I guess not as short as you are.” A soft giggle rang from her luscious lips. “Don’t feel bad. You’re new to these parts, you didn’t know. But I knew, and I couldn’t wait. So please be a good boy now and digest for your Goddess.”

The splotches of red and yellow that covered my eyes went dark as the last bit of bread was carried past the lips of the Goddess. The moist humid air hit me like a freight train. There was no going back at this point. Her masticating teeth began to get to work, munching and crunching the mouthful. However her massive muscle of a tongue made sure to seek me out and protect me. It was clear she had plans for me that didn’t end my journey right now. I could feel her taste buds taking me in, as I was constricted in the tongue’s embrace like a boa constricting a young deer. The only way I could have won this game was to have not played. But that option was removed the moment I entered the back yard. I was nothing but a mouthful now. Fueling the body of a gorgeous Goddess, a terrifying Titaness that had ensnared an unknowing man. And with a loud gulp, my final journey began.

Aurora swallowed her mouthful just in the nick of time as she heard the creak of the wooden fence gate that separated the front from the back yard.

“Greetings! Welcome to the cookout! Here, get some drink in ya.” She shouted as she waved her hand, the other hand reaching into the cooler to grab a beer. The label reading Smaller Lite.

Aurora loved these cookouts, and after the holiday she would get back to her real estate job and sell these same houses again. Because of course she had to restock in time for her 4th of July cookout…

[bunthatstinksgood]

Found a fun idea lately:

A burger joint with food so greasy it turns people into slobs just by eating it. Destroying their hygiene, giving them awful gas, ruining their manners.

Sure, if you wait long enough and don't eat there again, the changes will revert. But how likely is that?

@////@ oooOowhawhhwhohhhh mmyyyy gggododdd vvveryyy good idea

you know you shouldnt give in… you have an important job, and you try so hard to stay neat, and all these other girls are so gross but… woowwowwww…. The burgers are just so yummy!!

starting off with sliders but… then getting double, triple decks, massive, sauce-laden towers of beef and carbs, sauce dripping down ur neck

soon ur greasy, chubby bodys smushed against a dozen other horny, gassy, disgusting girls diving head first in a feeding trough and snorting as they shovel more and more meat down their guts!! only taking breaks to huff each others pits, lick the grease off their bellies, make out with sauce and sweat pooling on the floor..

you just have to come back, right? just for one more burger~

[imagineteamfreewill]

Spilt Soda Secrets

Title: Spilt Soda Secrets

Pairing: Personal Trainer!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,686

Warnings: Some low self-esteem moments and a few curse words, mostly fluff

Square Filled: Personal Trainer!Dean

Summary: The reader gets invited to a barbecue by her trainer, Dean.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2021-2022 SPN AU Bingo (@spnaubingo​). Thanks for reading and supporting me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics​.

You sat back in your seat, your hand still on the gearshift, and wondered if you should even bother turning off your car. Wouldn’t it be smarter to just go home? You’d probably misjudged Dean’s invitation anyway. The street was already packed with cars—he wouldn’t even notice that you didn’t come. Then again, you’d spent hours pouring over Pinterest, trying to find the perfect healthy recipe for the barbecue. Dean had said he’d take care of the food, but you didn’t want to be a bad guest, so you’d stressed yourself out for days over what to bring.

A knock on the window made you jump and Dean gave you a sheepish smile. “Sorry! You coming in?” he asked, his voice muffled by the glass and the music coming from behind the house.

Reluctantly, you nodded and hoped your nerves weren’t as obvious as you thought they were. You gathered up the bowl from the passenger seat and grabbed your phone, then carefully opened up the driver’s side door. Dean grabbed the handle from the outside and held it open for you.

“Thanks,” you said. Maybe if you didn’t talk a lot, he wouldn’t notice how nervous and out-of-place you felt.

Dean shrugged and closed the car door with one hand. He held a bag of ice with the other and he gestured towards the only house on the street that was teeming with people. Two stories tall with a double garage, it was clear that Dean’s business was doing just as well as it seemed to be. Even from across the street you could hear the music coming from the speakers and the dull roar of laughter and conversation.

“No problem. I just ran out to get ice and saw you sitting there. Thought we could walk in together,” he replied. “Safety in numbers and all that.”

You nodded and followed him across the street and onto the sidewalk, then up the driveway and around the side of the house. The gate stood open for you and Dean as you stepped onto the grass and made your way to the deck. A tall man with brown hair stood at the grill, looking down at the meat with a frown.

“You better not have messed up the burgers, Sammy!” Dean shouted over the music, and you jumped a little at the volume. Dean had a loud voice, but you’d never heard him truly shout, not even when he was pushing you to work harder at the gym.

The man at the grill turned and set the metal spatula down, looking surprisingly grateful for someone who’d just been yelled at. His face was pink with heat from the grill and the sun, but his smile held a different kind of warmth. Just looking at him made you feel just a little bit more at ease.

“I didn’t even touch them! I think they’re done, though. Who’s your friend?” he shouted back.

Dean didn’t even look back at you as he weaved through the crowd of people, leading you up the deck steps. “This is Y/N. She’s one of my clients.”

You forced a polite smile and tucked your phone underneath your arm so you could hold out a hand to shake, even as the other man briefly raised an eyebrow at Dean. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you said.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Sam, Dean’s brother,” he said. His grip on your hand was tight and his hand squished yours a little. Your smile started to crumble under the pressure when you finally pulled away. Sam and Dean exchanged a look and you shifted uncomfortably, moving to hold the bowl with both hands.

“Um, I brought a salad? It should probably go in the shade somewhere so the vegetables don’t get warm and mushy…” You glanced around the big backyard, looking for a food table somewhere. People crowded almost every inch of the grass, gathering around tables and lounging in camp chairs. A small group of kids splashed around in the pool while a smattering of teens sat on the edge with their feet in the water. That left the deck mostly free, but there was no food in sight. The only food-related items you could see were the long line of coolers pushed against the railing on the far side of the deck, each one labeled with a piece of duct tape to say what was inside.

That seemed to snap Dean out of the silent conversation he’d been having with his brother. Smiling, he put one hand on your elbow and guided you towards the sliding glass doors that led into the house.

“Side dishes are on the table inside, Y/N. Go find a space for the salad, I’ll come find you and try some after I’ve taken care of the ice and the burgers, okay?”

You nodded and walked inside without him, quietly approaching the table. The table was already laden with salads, trays of fruits and veggies, and packages of desserts, even though you’d arrived only a half hour after the start time Dean had given you. You hadn’t wanted to seem too eager.

A few women loitered around the kitchen area and one of them quickly caught your eye. She smiled warmly and set her drink down on the counter before crossing the room to greet you.

“Hi, I’m Charlie. You must be Y/N?” Surprised, you nodded. Your confusion must have been clear because her smile broadened and she laughed as she cleared a spot on the table for your bowl. “Dean and I throw this party every year, so I know everyone who’s invited. You’re the only person on the guest list I didn’t know already.”

“Oh. I hope it’s okay that I’m here…” You set the bowl down, a little unsure.

Charlie nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a plastic cup from the stack, then scribbled your name on the side with a nearby Sharpie. “Of course! Any friend of Dean’s is a friend of mine. He was really excited when you told him you’d come. Here,” she held the cup out for you and you took it, smiling hesitantly. “Get yourself something to drink and I can introduce you to a few people while Dean finishes up the burgers. No pressure, okay? Everyone here’s really nice. We weeded out the bad ones years ago.”

You let her point you towards the drinks spread out on the counter and you kept your head down low. Charlie seemed nice. Maybe by the end of the afternoon you wouldn’t feel so out-of-place. Clearly, everyone here knew each other, which meant you were the odd one out.

A frisbee hit the kitchen window off to your right and you were so lost in your worries that you jumped, dropping your cup. It hit the counter and then dropped to the floor, spilling soda all over you, the cabinets, and the tile. The women standing in the kitchen exclaimed, and in seconds you were being hustled into the bathroom with a towel while they mopped up the sticky mess. 

Hesitantly, you closed the bathroom door and glanced around. The bathroom was small, with only a sink and a toilet, but it was practically pristine. Either Dean had a maid or his neat-freak tendencies didn’t just apply to his gym equipment. After a brief look around, you turned and stared at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look rattled, which was a miracle in and of itself, but you definitely felt it. Your shirt was drenched down the front and it was already sticking to your skin. With a frown, you tried to dab the liquid out with the towel, but it was to no avail. The shirt you’d specifically picked out for the barbecue was definitely ruined, at least until you could get home and wash it. Until then, you’d just have to go around with a sticky, stained shirt and let everyone wonder how you could be such a klutz.

A knock on the bathroom door made you pause your cleanup and you opened it after a beat, even though the bathroom was small enough that you were standing right beside it. You didn’t want to seem too eager or on edge after what happened. People needed to think you were composed and poised, not crazy and stressed.

Dean stood in the hallway with another towel and something black clutched in his hand. He looked you up and down, his eyes lingering over the stain on your shirt.

“Are you okay?” he asked, finally meeting your eyes.

You nodded and forced a smile, grabbing the towel from where you’d draped it over the lip of the sink. You made sure to hold it in front of the damp part of your shirt. “Yep, I’m fine. I was just coming to get some burgers. I’m assuming they’re done?”

Dean nodded and held out a hand to stop you when you turned off the bathroom light and moved towards the hallway. “Charlie told me that one of the sodas exploded all over your shirt. I didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable, so I grabbed an extra shirt of mine if you want it. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” He hurried the last part out as if he was the one who should be embarrassed about the situation, not you. “I just thought I’d offer. It’ll fit you.”

Carefully avoiding his gaze, you took the second towel and the black thing—a t-shirt no doubt identical to the ones you’d seen him wear before and after he changed into his workout gear. You rubbed the fabric between your fingers, silently marveling at its softness and suppressing the urge to lift it to your nose for a sniff. It didn’t slip past you that Charlie had lied to save you from embarrassment. You’d have to thank her before you made your great escape.

“Thanks,” you murmured, finally glancing up at him with a smile slightly less forced than before. “I appreciate it. I’ll… I’ll get changed and meet you by the grill?”

Dean’s smile appeared, wide and radiant, and you felt your stomach flutter when he nodded and stepped back from the bathroom doorway. He lingered, holding your gaze until you finally looked away to shut the door, and he only started to leave when the door was almost closed. You stood in front of the sink in silence, listening to his footsteps fade as he headed back out onto the deck.

It took you a minute to process that Dean Winchester, your trainer and a regular in your daydreams, had just loaned you a shirt. You checked yourself over in the mirror again just to be sure that you hadn’t slipped in the soda and hit your head on the countertop. This was something out of one of your little fantasies. It couldn’t be real life.

Charlie’s voice outside the bathroom door startled you into action and you quickly ripped your shirt off and pulled Dean’s over your head. You only took a moment to revel in the lingering scent of his cologne mixed with laundry detergent before yanking the door open.

“Oh! I was just coming to see if you were okay,” Charlie said, dropping her hand back down to her side. “I almost just hit you in the face, sorry.”

You shook your head and smiled a little. “It’s okay.” You gathered up your shirt and the two damp towels. “Um, where should I put these?”

“I’ll take them.” Charlie had them out of your hands before you could protest. “You should go get something to eat.”

“I’m gonna take my shirt out to my car first. I don’t really want to carry it around,” you told her, laughing a little. She must’ve picked up on your nerves because Charlie gave you a warm smile and nodded, then led you back down the hallway to the kitchen. Just before you reached the end of the hall, you spoke up.

“Charlie?”

She hummed and looked back at you, stopping when she saw that you’d stopped. “Yeah?”

“You told Dean that the soda exploded, not that I spilled.”

Charlie nodded, a knowing look in her eye. “The room was pretty busy. It would be easy to miss a new bottle being put out from the fridge. Whoever took it out must’ve dropped it and gotten it all shaken up before you went to open it.”

“Thank you.”

She shrugged and her smile returned, and then she turned forward and began walking again. You parted ways when she went to join the other women talking by the sink.

Trying to be as subtle as possible, you slipped out the sliding door onto the deck and headed for the gate. You had made it to the edge of the house when Dean called out your name.

“Y/N! Hey, where are you going?” He jogged up behind you, stepping just slightly in your way so that you had to stop.

You crumpled the shirt in your hands a little more, frowning. “Just… taking my shirt out to my car,” you said.

Relief flooded his features, but it disappeared so quickly that you must’ve imagined it. “Good. I’d hate for you to leave before you got something to eat. Do you want me to save you a burger?” he asked.

You glanced over your shoulder. The crowd around the grill had grown exponentially since you’d passed on your way out of the house and after a moment, you nodded slightly.

Dean smiled, then stepped out of the way. “One burger, coming right up.”

You smiled back, a little nervous under his attention, and watched as he backed away and headed back in the direction of the house. As he turned the corner, you dashed to your car to drop off the shirt.

Your heart was pounding in your chest for more than one reason and you paused for a second after unceremoniously dumping the shirt on the passenger seat. Every part of you was screaming at you to take a chance and ask Dean out like you’d been wanting to ever since you’d laid eyes on him. He was single-handedly the kindest, most attractive man you’d ever met. You’d been working with him for several months now and not once had you felt unwelcome or unsafe in his gym and in his presence. He never made you feel bad about your body, even when you’d regressed or plateaued on the way to the goals he’d helped you set.

But Dean was the kind of guy that dated supermodels or fitness influencers. You’d stalked him on Instagram before going to his gym for the first time; his profile was littered with pictures of him and his skinny, toned, perfect friends working out and hanging out.

You were normal. You did your best to stay in shape and it was paying off—one by one you were checking your goals off the list—but Dean clearly considered you nothing more than a friend. After all, friends got invited to annual barbecues. Love interests got asked out on dates.

Once your heart had calmed a bit, you made your way back to the backyard. Dean was waiting for you just outside the sliding doors. He smiled wide when you turned the corner of the house and started up the steps to the deck.

“You’re lucky,” he said once you were within earshot. “I managed to get you the last one.”

You took the paper plate, frowning a little. “What are you going to eat if this is the last one?”

His smile dimmed at your lack of enthusiasm and he glanced through the open door. “There’s plenty of food. I can have some of the salad you brought. It looked good.”

“You don’t have to do that, Dean,” you mumbled, looking down at the burger. Even in the summer heat, you could feel the warmth from the food. Dean had even gotten you a bun, and he’d balanced a slice of plastic-wrapped cheese on the side of the plate. You had a vague memory of him on the treadmill beside yours, saying something about eating the processed cheese as a kid and how much he still liked eating it now.

Dean looked back at you, then placed a hand on your arm and guided you towards the edge of the deck, away from the other guests. You refused to make eye contact.

“Is everything okay? Did I say or do something to upset you? Did someone else?” he asked.

Slowly, you shook your head and took a deep breath. You forced a smile and lifted your face, hoping it looked genuine. “Sorry. No, everything’s fine. I probably just need to eat, that’s all.”

He searched your face for a second. The false happiness you’d pasted on quickly withered under his inspection and your smile faltered. There was a reason that people flocked to Dean’s business. Not only was he good at getting people in shape and then helping them stay there, but he was good with people. He could tell when something was bugging you, when you had great news that you were bursting to share, and when you needed a minute to collect yourself. 

“Bullshit,” he huffed, and you looked down at your sandals again. “Y/N, if something happened, please let me know. I’ll— I’ll give you some space or try and talk to whoever it was that upset you. I want you to have a good time. It’s important to me and you deserve to have a good time, too.”

“Why does it matter so much if I have a good time?” you asked after a second. His confusion was clear even in his silence and you continued, “I’m just a client. Everyone else here is a friend or a family member. I can see why you’d care so much about them having fun and getting food, but me? I just… I don’t get it, Dean. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not like I’m paying you for this. This isn’t part of the gym contract.”

Dean’s expression softened and he signed, looking around the deck. The crowd had cleared out a little as people finished getting food and drinks. They’d scattered around the rest of the yard, gathering back around tables and setting their plates down in favor of playing the games that had been set up. The pool was empty, though the teens on the edge stayed put, now with sodas and waters in hand.

“Y/N… You’re more to me than just my client. I just… didn’t know how to approach it until now. I’ve never felt this way about one of my clients and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or put you in a vulnerable position. I definitely didn’t want to tell you how I felt while we were at the gym, so I thought maybe if we were someplace else a little more casual…”

Your mouth ran dry and you gawked at him. Dean Winchester had a crush on you? He had feelings for you? You had to be hallucinating. Maybe you’d gotten heat stroke.

“Y/N?”

You blinked. “Um, I’m sorry. You’re— You—” You stumbled over the words, not sure what to say.

Gently, Dean took your elbow and led you closer to the railing, where you lowered yourself onto one of the coolers. The plastic was hot underneath your thighs but you ignored it, focusing on Dean’s worried expression instead.

“If you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay,” he said. He looked down at his hands, jaw clenching. “Just please tell me. I won’t be offended if you find a new trainer, either.”

“Why would I want a new trainer?” you asked, dumbfounded.

He looked back up at you. “What?”

“I mean, I really like you. As a trainer. As a person, too!” you quickly added. “I like you in the same way you like me, I think.”

You watched for a moment after you spoke as Dean stood in silence, and then a slow smile spread across his face. The dam inside of you broke and you smiled back at him.

“Yeah?” he asked.

You nodded, laughing a little. “Yeah.”

“So all this time…?”

“We’ve been trying to hide our feelings from each other?” you finished, and this time it was Dean’s turn to nod. “It sounds like it.”

He laughed and warmth blossomed inside of your chest. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

“What?” You glanced around the backyard. “Why?”

“Because I want to take you out on a date and I honestly don’t think I can wait any longer,” Dean said. He took the paper plate from your hands and set it on top of another cooler, then held out his hand to help you up. You let him help you stand, still grinning.

“But Dean, all your friends are here!”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans. How the man was wearing jeans in the heat of summer, you didn’t know, but he pulled it off well.

“They won’t miss me. Sam and Charlie can hold down the fort and if anyone asks, I’ll tell them the truth: that I took my girl out for a date.”

The heat in your chest flooded to your cheeks, and you knew for a fact that it wasn’t the temperature outside that was making you this warm. You tucked your chin down, smiling bashfully.

“Your girl?” you asked. Is this what it felt like to fly? You might as well have been floating; you felt so light and your heart skipped a beat.

“If you want to be.”

Nodding, you linked your arms with Dean, now smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. “Take me on a date, Dean.”

His smile rivaled the sun as he led you back across the deck to his car. You were fairly certain no workout he’d ever assigned you had ever made your heart beat as fast as that damn smile did.

Thank you for reading! <3

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[baseballjourney]

09.10.22

Our second trip in 2022 would be taking us to our final new stadium in Arlington, Texas, the new home of the Texas Rangers, Globe Life Field.  Chris, Brendan, and myself had some company on this trip as we were joined by Michelle, Jackie, and Shannon.  Michelle had taken an earlier flight than us so after picking up our minivan rental we found her at a near by Starbucks.  As is usually the case, we were hungry and there is one place we just can’t miss when we can visit it.  That place is, of course, In-N-Out Burger.  

Double Doubles (some animal-style) and fries filled our bellies and was the perfect way to start a trip filled with great food and good times.

From there, we still had some time before we could check in to our hotel so we visited Division Brewing, which is in Arlington, for a beer or two.

Finally after checking in around 4 we took a short uber ride over to Globe Life to get the party started.

We started off with some drinks at an outdoor bar at Texas Live!  Texas Live! consists of a few different restaurants and a few different bars loaded with TVs showing all the games and is a real hot spot during Rangers or Cowboys games.

The roof would be open since the heat that day wasn’t so bad.  We would find out that this would be the second day that it had been open since summer was coming to an end.

I was impressed with the stadium from inside and thought it had some decent character.  Talking to a few locals, I received mixed reviews but they were all in agreement that having a retractable roof was a blessing and the days and nights of sweltering summer games were thankfully over.

The concourses were wide and there were plenty of food and drink options.  heading up to the upper deck, the seats seemed close to the field and even the view from the last row behind home seemed on top of the field and not too far away.

As for the game itself, it wasn’t the best... especially if you were a Rangers fan.  They would let up four runs to the visiting Toronto Blue Jays in the first inning and would be behind the rest of the game, losing by a score of 11 to 7.

Home Team Record: 17-16

Box Score

[pneusnews]

Multitrax presenta in anteprima con LC3 Trasporti il semirimorchio double deck Burgers

a rivoluzione arriva sulle strade italiane. Dopo l’anticipazione del demo trailer, Multitrax ha presentato ufficialmente mercoledì 14 febbraio il semirimorchio double deck Burgers, di cui l’azienda cremonese è importatrice esclusiva in Italia. Il modello della Casa olandese è in corso di test da parte di LC3 Trasporti, leader nel settore della logistica green e pioniere del trasporto sostenibile,…

[thedisneychef]

Best Natural Gas Grill

Top 5 Best Natural Gas Grills 1. Best Overall: Dyna-Glo DGP321SNN-D Premier 2 Burner Natural Gas Grill, Stainless Using this grill, you are required to use natural gas plumbed out to patio or deck, 10 foot natural gas hose included. With a spacious cooking space of 319 sq. inches, users may accommodate up to 15 4-inch burgers. While, the whole cooking space is 445 sq. inches that allows you to freely create plenty of dishes at the same time. In addition, EquiHeat technology powers even heat distribution with 2 stainless steel tube burners, delivering 24, 000 total BTUs. The cast iron cooking grates provide the ideal surface for retaining and transferring heat directly to food, making you steak or pizza or seafood tasty then ever. If you are finding the best natural gas grill overall for explosion barbecues, this Dyna-Glo Premier 2 Burner is unmissable. Reason to buy: - Large cooking space - 2 stainless steel tube burners - Powerful burning - Reason to avoid: - Hard to assemble 2. Runner Up: Weber Summit 7270001 S-470 Stainless-Steel 580-Square-Inch 48,800-BTU Natural-Gas Grill This barbecue is a Natural Gas unit and you must have Natural Gas plumbed out to your patio or deck to be able to use this grill. If you do not have Natural Gas plumbed, please look at our selection of Propane barbecues. This item comes with front-mounted controls and 4 stainless-steel burners as well as Snap-Jet individual burner ignition system. Whislt, the battery works with type-AAA, D. Batteries-6. Accompanying with the Weber Summit are various types of burners, including side burner, sear station burner, smoker burner, and rear-mounted infrared rotisserie burner. Besides, the cooking grates are made of 0.3 inches diameter stainless steel rods. In addition, this product contains an enclosed cart for users to easy to move anywhere. Thermometer is attached to help to watch and control the temperature inside the grill while cooking. 2 work areas contribute to making plenty of food simultaneously. Even better, it also comes with Grill Out light, 6 tool hooks, 10-foot flexible hose, and 9-millimeter diameter stainless steel cooking grates. About warranty policy, Weber offers customers 5 years of warranty. Other than that, 3D interactive assembly instructions for this product are available through the free BILT app. Reason to buy: - 4 stainless-steel burners - Snap-Jet individual burner ignition system - Easy to move - 2 work areas - Thermometer included - Reason to avoid: - Hard to assemble - Natural gas use only 3. Best Strong Burners: Lion Premium Grills L75623 32" Natural Gas Grill The Lion is a behemoth of a grill, and one of the kings of the gas class for some reasons. First of all, its build is incredible. It’s made with elite-level grate steel, which is pretty much as strong and sturdy as it gets. To put it bluntly, you simply won’t find another grill that can match this one in terms of durability. In terms of power and size, it has 5 stainless steel burners over a huge cooking space of 802 square inches. Underneath its cooking grates lies 75,000 BTUs of cooking power. Not only that, but it has an added rotisserie burner that boasts 15,000 BTUs of its own. It has fast light valves to help ensure a quick and easy start, all at the push of a button. Lion also provides you a double-layer, seamlessly welded stainless steel grill head for optimum durability, as well as 4 cast iron burners, durable stainless steel cooking grates along with an additional large temperature gauge mounted on front and center. Thanks to this grill, you can effortlessly make smoke dishes or even pan sear up to your creativity! Reason to buy: - Strong and sturdy - 5 stainless steel burners - Easy and quick to start and use - Thermometer included - Reason to avoid: - No legs and enclosed card included 4. Best Splurge: Weber Summit S-670 6-Burner Natural Gas Grill, Stainless Steel If you’re willing to spend a bit more on a natural gas grill, you won’t be disappointed with the Weber Summit S-670. This high-end model from Weber has all the bells and whistles you could ever want, including a spacious 769-square-inch main cooking area and 145-square-inch warming rack. Moreover, the Summit S-670 delivers 60,000 BTUs across its six burners, and it comes with a 10-foot gas hose. This luxury grill delivers features that grill users are sure to love. It's designed with a 12,000-BTU side burner, a 10,600-BTU Sear Station burner, a 6,800-BTU smoker burner, and a 10,600-BTU rear-mounted, infrared rotisserie burner. This model features a built-in thermometer, two stainless steel work areas, six tool hooks, and an enclosed cabinet. Dimensions: 30 x 74.1 x 57.1 inches with 6 burners and a primary cooking area of 693-square-inch. Total: BTU: 60,000 Reason to buy: - Large cooking area - 12,000-BTU side burner - Lighted control knobs - Rotisserie system - Reason to avoid: - Expensive - Cabinet doors are flimsy 5. Editor's Choice: Napoleon LEX 485 Built-In Grill (BILEX485PSS-1), Propane Gas If you are finding a propane gas grill with stainless steel construction and chrome accents, this Napoleon LEX 485 Built-In Grill is absolutely matched. With a heavy-duty stainless steel "Wave" grill grates with sear plates, your parties with seafood or grill pork will be made with smoke flavor that everyone mouthwatering. The grill burners come with 16,000 BTU with Jet-Fire ignition and LED backlighting and 675 square inches total cooking surface. Additionally, thermometer attached helps you to accurately gauge the temperature of your grill for optimal temperature control when BBQing. Dimensions: 29.75L x 21.5W x 7.5H in. Reason to buy: - Stainless steel construction - Strong and sturdy - Thermometer included - Large grilling surface - Reason to avoid: - No legs and enclosed cart included Read the full article

[thepennytraveller]

Taiwan Trip - Second Day. We climbed the elephant mountain. It took us an hour to go up and only 30 minutes to go down. It was a steep climb and we had to stop every 5 minutes to rest and catch our breath. We proceeded to a mall opposite Taipei 101 building. We had dinner at McDonalds and ordered chicken burger, fries and sprite. The chicken burger was huge and the fries were also huge. We then sat at an empty table with chairs near the mini food trucks selling street food. We hopped on the double decker bus again at 7:40pm and stood at the deck while taking snapshots of the buildings. We arrived at Gate M4 of Taipei Main Station at 8:20am. We had to navigate the huge underground walkway going to the Taiyuan MRT station. It's where we will exit so we can walk back to our hotel in Chonggi Road.

[kenovele]

Bogs Blog - 4

As I write this I am shaded from the sun, sitting out on the deck in the Far North, listening to our playlist and just soaking in the peaceful holiday vibes of the beach. The view is framed by the New Zealand Christmas tree, the Pohutukawa trees, red blossums, vibrant blue skies, reflecting the colours of the sea, a light breeze just cooling me down the right amount. White sets of waves washing into shore, the bliss of the weekend ahead of us and the treat of having summer just around the corner. There is so much to look forward to and we, like Nanie, are living life in celebration.

Days have been going quickly this last week, we have been busy and constantly on the go, I guess getting back into the Robinson way of life, with lists, projects and one hundred and one things on the go at the same time wasn’t all that hard after all. We have been busy, but we are loving it.

We are both feeling stimulated that our projects are advancing. We have been on window pickups, door pickups, framing timber pickups and big-time planning. In every free minute we are talking plans, where should the kitchen go, where should we put our plugs, ideas, colours, tiles. It is exciting but there is a lot to plan and a lot to think about. We are very very lucky that we have a builder who is constantly able to offer us advice, give us practical tips and also bring us home presents that have been left over on the building house. We are feeling very happy to have Jamies help, to be advancing in our projects, it really helps us feel that little bit more anchored here.

On Monday, we had a tough start to our week. Our day was full of disappointments, we woke up at 6am and headed down to Tauranga to pick up the last door that we needed before we can start on the house framing plans. We arrived after two and a half hours of driving and picked up the door. While we were there, we looked around their shop and also bought a window for the bathroom we were happy because it was the last thing we needed. So we thought we were in for a good day, however, as we were filling up with gas we noticed that for one the door wasn’t double glazed and secondly that the exterior of the door wasn’t looking as tidy as we were hoping. So it was a bit of a fall from grace, as the rest of the windows that we have bought have been bargains. It was tough to realise that this time, maybe we hadn’t made as good of a deal as we had hoped. We got home a little bit tense and a little bit grumpy. Luckily Mum, Dad and Jamie, all helped us relativise and realise that maybe it is not as bad as we had initially thought. We pulled the moral up from our socks and carried on with our afternoon. We headed to Gran and Deedas to watch the Belgium soccer match, hoping that the Belgian team would lift our spirits, however it was just another disappointment to our day. Monday for us would have been better off forgotten as soon as possible. For the rest of the week, we continued on as normal, Mum and I went to work in Pukekohe, Jamie went building and Benoit and Dad went to work together. After work we were busy, Tuesday night my friend Josie came over for dinner while Mum and Dad were at pottery class. Wednesday we once again had art night although it was mainly just Benoit and I who participated, Benoit worked on the tiny house plans and I started my next crochet project, hats for Christmas presents. (I am starting with a practise one for Benoit as I am not sure if the pattern, I found will be any good, so fingers crossed). Thursday night Benoit and I made our famous burgers, thanks again to our favourite chef Jamie Oliver, everyone really enjoyed them, and I think we have now been dedicated to the burger cooks for as long as we are still living at home. The Friday, the long-awaited start to the weekend. This weekend, Mum booked the batch up north and so we headed up to the farm on Friday afternoon. I went with Mum and Dad, and Benoit went a bit later with Jamie and Jasper (my cousin). We arrived at the farm around 9pm, Jill had made us a big lasagna for dinner. One of the good things about arriving home is that everyone has been making my favourite dish for us. So, a delicious lasagna dinner and then we were off to the bach to set up the beds and relax after the big drive.

Up north. What a place to live. There seems to be a mircoclimate up here, sunshine, suntans, big smiles and island time. The stress of the city hasn’t really seemed to arrive in the far north and we are lucky enough to live this experience. There are some places in New Zealand where I really can just sit and enjoy the beauty of the nature around me, the good company and the refreshing cool of a cold beer in your hand after a big day, and in Ahipara, it is one of those magical spots. You can turn off your brain and just enjoy. Our first day here it was all go, we woke up, went for a walk on the beach with Sparrow, had a delicious breakfast before heading into the Kaitaia markets, where we wandered around getting some fresh produce. After a few hours in town, we headed back to Jacks to pick up the batteries for the torpedo before heading back to the bach for lunch. After lunch, Grant, Benoit, Jamie, Jasper and I headed up the beach to put the long line out. Unfortunately, we didn’t get any fish, but there beers were freely flowing and we enjoyed the time out on the beach waiting and hoping for the fish to come in. By the time we headed back it was already 6pm, so Benoit and I made the burgers for dinner while the others continued to party and catch up as we always do in the evenings of the far north. Discussions on politics, saving the world and climate change are constants after a few drinks and the debates are always full on.

It was a dusty morning on Sunday for most of the Robinson crew, but after a big walk to pick up supplies for a big kiwi breakfast everyone was feeling reenergised. Jasper and Benoit spent a good few hours playing on their boards in the surf while Jamie and I chatted on the beach and played with Sparrow, a lovely start to the day. It is always too short no matter how long we stay up here. Luckily Mum, Dad, Benoit and I are staying until tomorrow, so we have the luxury of another night here and another morning in paradise. Relaxing on the deck in the sunshine are on the agenda, not a bad plan if you ask me. Until next time, Love Kate and Benoit xxx

Sorry I haven’t re-read this, the pull of the good weather is too tempting! 

[semperama]

comfort prompt: pairing of your choice on a tropical vacation that was supposed to be a group trip but everyone else but them canceled

As soon as I read this, I got a Yukierre idea, so I hope this suits! Thank you for the prompt! <3

------

Yuki pretends like he doesn’t see Pierre walking across the deck in his peripheral vision, like he hasn’t been watching the lobby with one eye since Pierre texted him that he was in the cab on the way to the hotel. Even when Pierre flops down onto the chair next to him, too much golden skin on display, Yuki doesn’t look at him. He’s too afraid his relief will show on his face, so clear even his mirrored sunglasses won’t hide it.

“You didn’t get me a drink?” Pierre asks, nodding at the sweating glass on the table beside Yuki.

“Didn’t want it to melt,” Yuki says. His own pina colada is barely frozen anymore as it is, but still he picks it up and hands it to Pierre, who wraps his lips around the straw and sucks half of it down like he knows anything that’s Yuki’s is his. Yuki watches his mouth, his throat, and—Yeah, he should have stuck to staring at the pool, the girls in bikinis lounging against the counter of the swim-up bar nearby.

“Got a text from Alex,” Pierre says, handing the glass back. “He canceled on us too.”

Yuki groans, sets his drink down and runs his hand over his face. The cool condensation feels good but does little to relieve the heat in his cheeks. It’s just him and Pierre then. Yuki should have known this would happen. He is the one who planned this trip, the one who invited everyone. But they all have lives that don’t include him. Lives that have never included him. They’ve all known each other for years, and now Yuki is the odd one out. Alex probably bailed because everyone else did—Charles and Carlos and George.

“We don’t have to stay,” Yuki says. He glances at Pierre, then away. “You didn’t even have to come.”

“I wanted to. I needed a vacation.” Yuki looks over again, watches as Pierre laces his fingers behind his head and leans back. He can see Pierre’s eyes are closed, his eyelashes casting shadows against his cheeks behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Too many races this year, yeah?”

Yuki shrugs, though Pierre isn’t looking. He’d race twice as many. He’d race year round. He’s tired, yes. He hates training and early mornings and scolding from team management, yes. But during the season, he has Pierre. When the season’s over, he doesn’t. It’s simple, really.

Pierre holds out his hand, and Yuki places the drink in it again, watches and Pierre drains the rest. It’s fine. Yuki didn’t really want it anyway. What he wants is some nachos, with cheese sauce. Or one of those burgers he saw someone walk by with a minute ago. He prefers to eat his feelings, not drink them. He watches Pierre bend one knee, his swim trunks momentarily stretched against the curve of his thigh, and he thinks, maybe a double cheeseburger. And nachos on the side.

“Hey.” Yuki is so busy daydreaming, he doesn’t notice Pierre trying to get his attention until chilly fingers settle themselves on his elbow, squeezing and then jostling. “Hey,” Pierre says again, “what are we here for? Let’s get in the water.” Yuki starts to refuse, to say he’s going to find something to eat instead, but then Pierre unfolds himself from the chair, his hand still on Yuki’s arm, and yanks Yuki up after him, grinning. “No whining. Come with me.”

Pierre tugs again, and Yuki overbalances, crashing into him. Pierre’s skin is warm and slick with sunscreen and sweat. His biceps flex as he steadies Yuki, his fingers sure and his grip strong. As soon as Yuki has his balance back, Pierre’s hand comes to the back of his neck and squeezes, his thumb swiping briefly over the skin behind Yuki’s ear, and he smiles softer than Yuki has seen him smile in a long time, maybe ever.

“I’m sorry everyone bailed on us,” he says, “but we can still have a good time.

Us, we, us, we, chimes over and over in Yuki’s head. He nods once, wrinkling up his nose like he chafes at the reassurance, like he doesn’t really, really need it.

“Come on then,” Yuki says at last. He wrenches himself out of Pierre’s grasp and then takes a running leap into the deep end, drawing his knees up to do a cannonball. When he comes up for air, Pierre is standing at the edge of the pool with his hands on his hips and laughing, laughing at him. He’s fucking beautiful.

Yuki reaches out, grabs his ankle, and pulls.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Late Night Talks

Summary: After a long hunt, the reader and Dean grab a late dinner on the road. Dean notices the reader not eating much and calls her out on her recent eating habits when he gets concerned about the road she’s on...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language, discussion of disordered eating & eating disorders, fluff

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo! 

______

“I read this article earlier,” said Dean as he popped a french fry into his mouth. You were about five hours from home, eating a midnight dinner at some tiny little diner on the side of the road after a successful but exhausting ghoul hunt.

“Mhm,” you hummed, picking at a brussel sprout on your plate. 

“It was on disordered eating,” he said, picking up a piece of bacon that’d fallen onto his plate and eating it.

“You mean eating disorders,” you said, stabbing into the sprout and eating it before you went back to your dicing up your chicken tenderloin.

“No this was something different. It’s like, how some people shift into having an eating disorder, like pre disorder I guess.”

“So...was there something interesting in this article?” you asked, picking up a piece of chicken and taking a bite.

“Actually yeah,” he said. You chewed and took a few bites before he set the burger down and wiped off his hands. “It was about how there’s dangers involved with disordered eating since it could turn into something all consuming, like a full on eating disorder.”

“Well that sounds kinda obvious,” you said. 

“Well it was about how stuff like skipping meals, limiting your calories too much, saying some foods are good and others are bad, that stuff over time can really start to mess with your head and lead to that compulsion of being obsessed with food and weight.”

“Isn’t that just common sense,” you said. He hummed and you ate another piece of chicken before pushing the plate away. “I don’t know about you but I’m full.”

“Yeah, it is common sense,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone, tapping on it for a moment before spinning it around, showing you a number.

“Are you tracking my fucking calories?” you said.

“Oh geez, Y/N. Maybe cause you hit every red flag in that article I read and I got concerned. There’s no humanly possible way you’re full when you’ve eaten a whopping 800 calories today. You’re starving yourself.”

“I’m not hungry today, weirdo,” you said. 

“You were slow on that hunt and we both know why. You’ve been doing this for weeks really extremely and honestly, since I’ve met you.”

“I’m on a diet. You know that.”

“You’re on the ‘I’m fucking up my metabolism’ diet. Ah, that one’s a classic,” he said.

“Back off. I am not hungry lately is all.”

“Eat this,” he said, sliding his plate in front of you. He took your plate and started eating, staring at you. “Eat the burger.”

“I said-”

“Take one bite.”

“I’m not hungry,” you growled.

“Then take a bite and spit it out.” You picked up the burger, covered in cheese, bacon, peppers and a sauce that smelled so good. You swallowed and put it down, Dean shaking his head.

“Dean. I’m just not hungry.”

“Why won’t you take a bite?” he asked. You sighed and closed your eyes. “Y/N.”

“Because I’ll want to eat the whole thing and this has to be a thousand calories and I can’t eat that much, Dean. I’m on a diet.”

“Today I’ve seen you have three cups of coffee, a banana, and half of a small piece of chicken and a few brussel sprouts. You need to eat.”

“I need to lose weight.”

“For what?”

“I’m overweight.”

“Because a little stupid calculator online said so? So another stupid little calculator tells you how much food you’re allowed a day? But maybe you’re having a bad day so you tell yourself you don’t deserve to have even all of that already restricted food? So you make it even smaller to the point of, hm, what’s that word, disordered eating?”

You stared down at your lap and heard him get up, sliding into the booth beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you looked out the window.

“I do need to lose weight Dean. It’s true. I’m not supposed to be this big.”

“What are you supposed to be then?”

“Like that waitress. She’s small and thin. She’s healthy.”

“I see,” he said. She was working behind the counter, no one else in the place aside from a man at the other end and the cook. “Excuse me miss?”

She popped her head up and walked over with a tired smile.

“Can we get another bacon cheeseburger? And a big bowl of that ice cream sundae?” he asked.

“You got it,” she said, writing it down.

“One more thing,” said Dean. “Do you like the way you look?”

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Dean, shut up,” you said. “Please ignore him.”

“I mean, are you happy with your body? Do you eat whatever you want, wear whatever you want, never worry a second about what goes in it or how it looks? You’re a beautiful woman but what do you actually think of yourself?”

She was quiet for a few moments before she noticed the swapped plates in front of you.

“You know when you first asked that, I thought, you were being creepy. I get creepy guys in here a lot late at night. The cook is a big guy but it happens. I know I’m small. I wish I was stronger. I wish I looked like she does. I’m something that looks like they’d snap in the wind. She’s strong and has an ass and curves. She’s not a rectangle with no curves or chest. She doesn’t look like a guy. I wish I wasn’t so delicate but I don’t think I can change that much.”

“Probably not so much,” said Dean. “But I hear weight training is good for muscle building. Creeps are always creeps but might help to be able to deck ‘em.”

“Yeah. I’ll go put that order in for you guys,” she said with a smile. Dean turned his head back to you after she went through the double doors.

“Funny. You want her body. She wants yours,” he said. 

“She doesn’t know I’m overweight.”

“She doesn’t know how damn strong you are. Her body? She was right. She is delicate and it’d be a safe idea for her to put on some muscle given her job. You though? You I’ll worry to death over no matter what. But you’re missing the most glaring thing of all.”

“What?”

“You just said she doesn’t know you’re overweight. She doesn’t know how much you weigh. If she doesn’t know how does anyone know? Why does a number on a scale matter? Health does, don’t get me wrong, but care more about what your body can do than what size pants you fit in. It’s all bullshit anyways. You can be a small one place or a triple XL somewhere else. You can have a normal chest but be told it’s too big or too small by a different brand. I just don’t want to see you going down a path towards something worse where you’re hurting yourself.”

“I’d never hurt myself, Dean.”

“If your body is hungry and you don’t feed it, you’re hurting it. I’m talking about you’re cold, you’re starving, you have no energy, you feel like crap. But you won’t eat, not until it gets a little worse because you think you can take it because you’ve taken it before. That’s hurting yourself and you hurt yourself a lot sweetheart.”

You looked down and swallowed, taking a deep breath.

“I’m really cold right now,” you said quietly. “I’m tired of always being so fucking cold.”

“Eat,” he said, tugging his plate closer to you. “I’ll order you some soup too. That’ll warm you up.”

He took off his jacket and wrapped it over your shoulders. He kissed your cheek and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’ve been like this for years, Dean. I don’t know how people eat normally anymore.”

“I know. You probably fucked up your metabolism but we can unfuck it up too. You can be healthy but this, this isn’t healthy. I’ll do it with you but you gotta promise me you won’t starve yourself anymore.”

“I’ll try,” you said.

“I’ll take trying to start with,” he said. “I’m gonna order that soup. Eat up for me sweetheart. You’ll feel better soon. I promise.”

One Month Later

“Y/N!” shouted Dean from the kitchen as you walked past. “You eat lunch yet?”

“No,” you said. 

“Are you hungry?”

“A little. I was waiting for you to get done with Baby,” you said.

“What’d you eat so far?” he asked.

“I had a cup of coffee and a protein bar and for lunch I’m having one of those greek wraps I like,” you said. “Satisfied?”

“I’d prefer if you had two wraps or a wrap and snack with it,” he said. You grumbled and he sighed. “Y/N. You said I could take the lead on this.”

“I’m gaining weight,” you said.

“Yeah cause you aren’t eating what a toddler does in a day anymore which is perfectly healthy for a grown woman. I know it’s only been a month but you have so much more energy, you sleep better, you have less nightmares. Your skin looks amazing. So gain a few pounds, gain more than a few, let’s fix your metabolism and then we’ll start working out a little and we’re not gonna give a fuck how much we weigh at all and we’re gonna be the hottest fucking couple in this neighborhood I swear.”

“I like not feeling cold anymore,” you said with a small smile, Dean walking over and rubbing your arms. “It’s just...hard sometimes to not...wait to eat until your stomach hurts from no food. I’m figuring out what being hungry is again.”

“It’s gonna take some time but your body will learn again. We just gotta be extra nice to it right now while it recovers,” he said. “And then we’ll always be nice to it, right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I promise.”

“So, one wrap or two?” he asked, opening the fridge.

“One. I’ll save the other for tomorrow. But maybe I’ll have some pita chips and hummus with it?” you asked.

“That sounds yummy,” he said. “I think I’ll have that myself.”

“You don’t have to eat my diet Dean,” you said.

“I could do with being nicer to my own body myself,” he said. “After lunch do you want to go for a walk? I have a sneaking suspicion the couple three blocks over are a pair of vamps.”

“That’s the guy with the skin condition, babe,” you said.

“Are you sure cause he got like a weird rash that one time.”

“It’s a condition,” you said with a smile. “But I would love to go for a walk with you while the day is still nice.”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart,” he said, starting to take food out of the fridge. You walked over and gave him a hug from behind. 

“Thanks for saying something. Even if I tried pretending I was fine.”

“You’d do the same for me,” he said. “Come on, cutie. Let’s get some grub. I’m starving.”

________

[recycledcactus]

‘accurate’ mcc world concept

Okay I don’t know about ‘accurate’ and ‘world concept’. It was the only thing I could think of.

Basically: MCC conceptualized as like an actual event (in fanfic I’d assume. World building.)

That’s the closest thing I could get. Let’s do this.

So MCC has eight event, right? Nine, if you include Dodgebolt. (I hope I got that right).

You can spread the eight ones over the course of four days. Two events per day.

Then, on the fifth day, there’s the finale. Dodgebolt.

So it’s a five-day event.

And it’s set in a semi-fantasy/magic universe because, well, Minecraft logics.

Games/events structure:

All players gather in the MCC area in the morning (I’d imagine around 9 AM). No clue what it’s called but it’s the main area between/before games.

The timer counts down as per usual and they do their thing where the run to the elevators and they’re transported to the Decision Dome using the magic of the world.

Decision Dome goes normally too. The game chosen is still largely the result of voting.

Players get teleported to their game.

The game proceed. Except, it’s over a larger span of time, as this is supposed to be a more accurate telling of the events. I’d imagine them lasting around 1-2 hours with small breaks in between each of their rounds. Though that does depend on the game.

(For example, games like Sky Battle would have longer resting periods between their rounds while games like Big Sales at Build Mart would probably have smaller breaks).

Either way, there’s a max of 3 hours for each event/game. That means the morning game goes on for 9 AM to 12 PM max.

Then, 12 PM is lunch! Players are given an hour to rest, eat, and recuperate for the afternoon game. (Even put on a spare costume if needed).

At 1 PM, it’s time to get back into the Decision Dome for the second (and last) game of the day.

Again, a max of 3 hours is implemented. So, the game goes on from 1 to 4 PM max.

And, well, that’s kinda it for the game/event aspect! Rinse and repeat that for three more days and you’ve got the eight games down.

However, on the final day, Dodgebolt is only the afternoon slot (1 to 4 PM) to give the players the morning to prepare and rest.

Broadcasting/viewing structure:

So, for the assumed citizens who are viewing these events, I’d refrain from having seats at the games just because of how unpredictable the structures can be. It’d be hard to buy tickets for this kind of thing.

That’s why twitch more or less exists in this!

Each player has an earpiece for their teammates (VCs) that doubles as a microphone for their twitch chats.

On top of that, there are contact lense-type things that the players wear that basically act as cameras for the twitch streams. They do nothing to the player, but because the world is magic, technology is pretty limitless. (You can decide if the contact lenses can see through eyelids or not idc).

(Another option to this would be a camera on the front of their clothes or something around their necks).

If you want to make it more complex and delve further into the limitless technology structure of the world, then you can include a small drone that follows the player around. This is basically what you see when a cc! has their camera on.

Aside from those, there could be just general drones that don’t have specific POVs and take in the entire games. These ones could be viewed from an MCC/Noxcrew twitch channel.

Other tidbits:

There are changing rooms in the general area of MCC. Players are given multiple pairs of their team costumes.

The fun burger vans and stuff remain. There are plenty of water carts, too.

I’ll include this here: futuristic-type hologram that’s kinda like a floating iPad. It shows the stats and in-game chat. Could also include twitch chat if desired so the ccs can talk to their chats still.

Because it’s a big event, there’s a festival around it! The cities get decked out in beautiful decorations and lanterns. Stalls are filled with treats and trinkets. Many sell team merch. People bustle about and celebrate in the evenings after the day’s events have finished. It’s a big thing!

The final day after Dodgebolt is done. there’s a HUGE party! Festivites to the max.

This part is up to your decision: Because MCC is monthly to us, you can decide on the frequency of how often you want MCC to be. Personally, I think it’s be thrice a year. (Once in late April, once in August, and once in December). But it’s whatever you want it to be.

I think that’s all! Feel free to use this little concept. Please credit me though! If you want me to go further into something, let me know.