#I have to drive an hour to get to this restaurant

[seat-safety-switch]

There's a small burger joint near me. It's not one of those chains, which is sort of uncommon these days. Most of them are owned by some kind of insanely large corporation the size of a planet. This small place is good: it's not the best I've ever had, but it's cheap and it's on the way to the bad junkyard, and the owner is nice.

Here's what I like about it: it's still like one of the old-school drive-ins, at least in aesthetic. Those were all destroyed long before I came into this Earth, and nobody roller-skates up to your car to serve you the burger. It's more egalitarian, nowadays, and you gotta hoof it into the restaurant yourself or pay a dude $25 ($7 of which he keeps) to drive it to your house in his leased Mercedes.

Because it's a drive-in, though, it gets rid of the ugly decor that clogs most restaurants. Replaced by cars. In fact, some shadowy figure has begun an all-night, every-night classic car show there. Lots of fantastic Mopar products from about 1974 to 1983, when things started to get real bad in the heart of America. Cars are parked there every night, a mysterious judge issues a "best in show" award, and everyone has a good evening.

Of course, I can't guarantee that this translates to sales. Sure, it looks very busy, and I'm sure that convinces passing non-classic cars that "the burgers must be good there," but I'm no marketer. You'd have to ask my cousin, who conveniently is unavailable at the moment due to some legal complications with his work visa.

Hell, I'm not even involved. I just love a good burger, and approximately 35-1/2 parking spaces' worth of places to shove old cars for a couple hours without the fuzz getting too interested. It's really hard to find swap space these days, what with all the neighbourhood streets bulging with hoopties. Why don't you stop asking those questions and come on by the burger joint? It's authentic and real, not at all like the mysterious offshore corporation that owns and self-insures all those decrepit cars.

[pez3639]

Help all i can think about is the Berzatto Family and White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes. It’s literally so depressing.

More thoughts below the cut :)

I was following the pack all swaddled in their coats

As the youngest, Carmen was used to just following his family. Sugar in front of him, then Michael, and sometimes Donna. He watched his family from the back of their heads. He watched what they did and tried to follow them the best he could. That was his identity for so long until he became a chef. All he based himself on was his family because he could never truly escape the chaos of them. He didn’t know who he was but he did know that all he had to do was follow them. He wanted to be like Michael until he wasn’t allowed to work with him. Then he trailed off. He went away, trying to piece himself together, but it didn’t work. He was still following Michael. He true passion was, at its heart, making his brother proud. He followed Michael until he was pushed away. In his attempt to find himself, he just cemented his need to make his brother proud. He was alway following them.

With scarves of red tied round their throats; to keep their little heads from falling in the snow

The scarves is what they held closest to themselves. For Donna it was her own self loathing. For Sugar it was her constant anxiety. For Mikey it was his substance abuse. Carmy didn’t have that. He was wide eyed and could be read like a book. His family kept their ways to protect themself while he was bare. He had nothing to shield him from the biting cold of life. Nothing he could use to hide behind. His family used their problems to keep their heads up. They weren’t allowed to show their struggles. Michaels had become so hidden that it took his life from him. His drug addled brain was what kept him warm in Chicago winters. Donna had the fire of hatred. And the boiling pot of fear protected Nat from frostbite. But nothing could stop Carny from struggling in the freezing temperatures of his mind and world.

And I turned round and there you go

Carmen had had enough. He was tired of being submissive and having fingers cold to the touch. He couldn’t stand watching his family march on all while he shivered. So he went the opposite direction and picked up a chefs coat on the way. He never had a clue to where he would end up until he set his sights on the culinary arts. If he couldn’t be someone in the outside world, he could lead a pack inside the kitchen all while being warmed by the fame of a stove. It was here where others began to watch the back of his head. It’s where he ignited his passion but also sparked the same habits of his family. He hated himself. He was constantly in a state of fear. He could always taste birth tobacco at the back of his throat no matter how many Michelin meals he prepared. His family watched him drive away only for him to crash and burn. But Michael and Nat couldn’t save him from the wreck. He pushed them so far that they huddled between themselves without Carmen.

And Michael, you would fall and turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime.

Carmen looked back from the wreckage of his life to only see Donna and Natalie. There was no Michael. There will never be another Michael. He shot himself. Carmen didn’t know what fueled it, but he knew Michael was gone. Not gone like his father, no. Gone for good. He put a big red stain in Carmens brain that can’t be washed away no matter how many hours he spends scrubbing at it. The blotch speed further and further as time went on. He skipped the funeral. He inherited the forsaken restaurant. He found Michael’s note and the hidden money. The blood will continue to spread until it overflows into his soul. He still has Natalie and Donna and sometimes Richie. But there is no more Michael. Only a gunshot and his body becoming covered with the cold Chicago snow.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I’m so sorry i couldn’t get this out of my brain until I wrote it. Please do request anything you’d like to hear. I’m gonna try and start a full length x reader fic for carmy soon. I hope this hurt you as much as it did me. thanks pookies <3

[halfdeadhalfdrunk]

Do not, my friends, become addicted to xiao long bao. For they will take hold of you, and you will resent their absence.

[die-tenebris]

It doesn't matter to the post I read this from so I'm here to tell you all I would give anything for a mexican-japanese fusion restaurant

[yardsards]

found in a yearbook from the 1950s

[knifesxedge]

i’m going to kill myself

[terryfuckingturniptruck]

I think I need to come back to NM and not tell my grandma until I'm here so that I have a hotel room and a rental car to do whatever I want whenever I want and visit on my own time.

[jegheterkerry]

i have shingles! amazing! i was trying not to complain about my pain because i dunno i’m a woman i guess but then i got a rash on my belly and i was kind of hoping i had just touched something weird or maybe the dog transferred poison ivy from their fur to my bed to my belly (this sounds stupid now that i say it) but i went to urgent care by the end of the week and the doctor diagnosed it immediately, like i was still in the process of lifting my shirt when she said “that’s shingles.” so now here i am and i’ll tell you about the full body aches i’ve had for the past two weeks, the stinging pain and itchiness on my belly, the blisters that fill up to tiny balloons and then crater into bruises, the general skin sensitivity that makes me constantly aware of this stupid meatsack that...i am. there are probably other symptoms too, that i’m trying to brush off or toughen myself up against, but i’m too tired to look up my google search history to recap. my pain doesn’t matter unless someone else can identify the cause of it.

anyway, i got the chicken pox when i was a wee one, right before the vaccine came out, so shingles makes sense. i wish i had known more about it though, to diagnose myself better and faster. it was always this thing that old people get a vaccine for, but now i know you can get it when you’re younger, especially if you have a weakened immune system. i’m on an anti-viral medication now, so when my rash clears up i’ll go to my doctor and see if i can get the vaccine.

one thing that sucks though, besides the physical pain, is that this is just contributing to my covid paranoia. i was pretty convinced before that if i contracted covid, i would not survive, and here i am getting felled by a little herpes virus twenty years earlier than usual. what a wimp, what a weakling i am. i just know covid would knock me out the way a child flicks away a booger.

[mosspapi]

I have a general rule where i won't leave negative reviews for delivery drivers and shit but holy FUCK it is taking every ounce of my self control not to rn

[milo-is-rambling]

I don’t want to doordash drive tonight even tho it’s busy and I could be making money so instead I’m being mad at myself while laying in bed to angry at myself to fall asleep but too uncomfortable feeling frustrated to want to get up and go drive and deliver food

[ivyblooms]

I have no sympathy for people with phone anxiety. I was also a person with phone anxiety, and it was stupid, and I specifically got a part time job answering phones in order to get over it and now I'm fine. It's literally just talking to a person but less stressful because they aren't there, therefore there is no consequences for if u mess up or look dumb.

People being too scared to talk on the phone and asking someone else to do it for them is weaponised incompetence. No I won't do all your laundry, no I won't cook all your food, no I won't make all your phone calls.

[the-music-keeper]

I was just in a public bathroom and what sounded like a girl in her late teens to early twenties in the stall next to me literally just asked her mom how to spell "snooty."

Like ... listen, I try so hard not to be judgemental, but honey, sometimes you really just need to Google your question.

[loveluvrs]

the slip up l lando norris x reader

request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream

author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.

Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time. 

“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next. 

“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare. 

—————

A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute. 

I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends. 

I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress. 

Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile. 

Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement. 

“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream. 

When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream. 

I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend. 

I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.

“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.

I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.

“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle. 

“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side. 

“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.

[yardsards]

those funny tumblr comics weren't lying, senshi dungeonmeshi DOES materialize in your brain to encourage you to practice basic self care

me (tired, walking back to car from airport): i'm kinda hungry but ehhh, i'll just wait til i get home. no need spending money when i have food at home i can cook. besides, i ate well this past week, i can afford to skip just one meal.

the senshi that lives in the shared singular brain cell of every dungeon meshi fan: it's been nearly 6 hours since you last ate, and it'll take at least another hour and a half for you to get home. if you wait that long to eat, you'll get sick with hunger!

me: hmmm, yeah. i think i've got a baggie with like a handful of crisps at the bottom of my backpack. and a few pieces of candy in my purse. i could probably eat those to tide me over?

self care senshi: that's no good, you need way more than that. you can afford to pay for a restaurant; you CAN'T afford to risk putting yourself and everyone else out there in danger by driving while distracted by hunger.

me: you're right... i'll find a diner nearby to stop at.

(also the diner food was good + when i sat down to eat i realized i was starting to get a hunger headache that could have progressed into a migraine if i left it unmanaged. thank you imaginary senshi.)

[pixelated-dragon]

Man. I want cheesy garlic bread so bad rn

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.