#overfed teen

[fromtwinktopig]

1st of April vs 23 of April

Omg 😦 what’s happening to me

I…I just want it more

#get me fatter #gay gainer #male gaining #gaining fat #gaining weight on purpose #fedee #fat male #chubby #getting bigger #overfed teen #bigbelly belly #starter belly

[fatbuttboy]

I can’t remember the last time I wore these, but I do remember them fitting much better.

#gaining weight on purpose #getting fat #fat butt #gaining fat #getting chunky #getting heavy #weight gain kink #male butt expansion #male butt #man butt #love handles #fat gain #plumping up #lard ass #freshman 15 #first pounds #pudgy #feeder wanted #overfed teen

[thedwightshrute]

Supercutgains_22 on Instagram

#weight gain #beginner belly #first pounds #food baby #overfed teen #gaining #fatass #need to be fatter #male bhm #chubbiness

[thechubbyswimmer03]

Photos from my new video on Patreon:)

#teen gainer #college gainer #exjock #overfed #freshman 15 #fit to fat #fatboy #fat gainer #getting fat on purpose #getting fatter #male bubble butt #getting fat #fat belly #overweight #getting fatter on purpose

[gorillabulking]

#fatboy #fat gay #gay gainer #bulking #overfed #feed me #bulkingseason #fat teen boy #chubby lad #chubby boy

[kevindavidday]

going through my aftg raven neil artist au drafts and like ??? so deeply impressed by the thought i put into this

the idea of neil growing up w jean and kevin at the nest and the dynamic they would have - all of their personalities would change but not in a drastic way like when u shift something slightly to the left so its different but not by much

riko's spiral into becoming and abusive kid and adult (free reign and overfed with the idea of treating certain people like objects and property)

kevin as the obsessed artist ugh this gets to me and the way neil idolizes him growing up... i'm on my knees

probably the most interesting aspect of this was writing raven andrew like he enters an already set group of rich elitist artist teens and his entry immediately switches the vibe over to dark academia cuz you just know there's gonna be a murder in the building soon

and then everything else that follows? i can't believe i've never properly finished and posted this because it's living in my brain rent free eating my braincells like wow

the human mind... the fic is literally 1998-2012...if i ever write this ill have healed

#aftg #tfc #kevin day #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevaaron #andreil #aaron minyard #all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg fanfic #jerejean

[kittyandco]

YOU HATED CARRIE'S FILM ADAPTATION TOO?? Let's be friends, it's a travesty they changed the ending from the book so much !!!

HOLD ON HOLD ON NOW I DON'T HATE IT I DON'T

y'all listen to me tho: i see so much of my younger self in carrie. she's described as awkward, quiet, chubby, almost grotesque at times, but with the capacity to be beautiful (per the book's framing) if she wasn't a victim of her circumstances. i relate to carrie in many ways, still. that's why i root for her and appreciate her and love her

in my critique i mostly want to focus on her appearance, because it is not trivial or superficial in her case. she was ostracized for being "fat" (she was called a pig because she wasn't skinny, that's why the pig's blood poured on her at the dance specifically was important), for having acne, for dressing too modestly, for looking too severe and like an easy target at the same time.

i understand that it was the 70s and everyone on screen had to be skinny especially if portrayed as sympathetic hell it's still that way in 2023 lmao, and i do like sissy's portrayal of carrie, she's iconic! BUT THOSE ARE IMPORTANT DETAILS, ESPECIALLY TO ME, WHO COULD REALLY RELATE. the things people say to you, the way you are treated -- those things do not leave you for a long time.

of course that isn't the only reason i relate to her, but her appearance was described in detail many times throughout the book. and it all stems from her mother, and the primary plot is the relationship between them.

her mom overfed her on purpose, in part, so that she didn't get attention from men. carrie ate a lot of chocolate and other comfort foods to "fill the gaping hole inside" (or something to that effect), and then she'd notice that she would gain weight and see a new breakout, but she wouldn't care, because she felt hopeless anyway. she wore "unflattering" clothes because of her mother's ideas of modesty and to hide away from the shaming of her peers.

we really don't see any of that in the movie. as someone who used to binge at times like that, who gained a lot of weight due to depression in my younger teens, who didn't want to be seen but couldn't because people would target me and beat me down for YEARS... i could really relate to her that way. and i had no idea because up until 2021, i had only seen the movie (and i loved it, i still like it, but when She's Just Like Me For Real in the book, it's harder to accept some of the film's choices).

body image was a big theme in the book, and i wish that the movie would have explored that more. a lot of time was dedicated to it. carrie constantly lamented over it. i think it would have been more powerful if she looked more like herself on screen, especially to girlies like me

also i don't think margaret was as unhinged as she should have been aljaslksd

#asks #PLEASE LET ME TALK ABOUT CARRIE I FROTH

[skloomdumpster]

which fate ships don't you like? Also it's sad there's not really any Aisha and Grey stuff. I really liked the whole she gets him to switch sides and become party healer via blood magic thing

too many for my own good, Pen

I don't dislike in canon, almost any ship. I actually adore all dynamics the show brings us and I'd read for anything. Now in fandom... in fandom...

I'm exhausted of silrah, I'll be honest. I've moved on, I've checked out. But they don't bother me, because 90% of the works I read are focused on the "teens" so it's perfectly fine.......... then there's rivusa.

I'm so.damn.tired of rivusa and it's not the ship, it's the overwhelming pushing for it in every single aspect of the show. I know people will be like "but what if its popular, this is good" and sure, good for you, but not for me. I want to be able to read a fic and see more diverse dynamics. I want to see riventrix because it's what the plot calls for! I want to see Riven explored with Sky and Bea and Flora and Terra and Stella and-

I want to enjoy my own ships and hell, my own works without getting pushes to serve an already overfed ship. It's like reverse exposition therapy, where the more exposed I am to this content, the less I like it.

I want to be able to say "AU where skloom-" without having a person go "oh and Musa and Riven" just... So incredibly exhausted.

Stellatrix has so much potential, Greysha is the MOMENT, Saundreas are basically canon as far as I'm concerned and Sebastian is stupidly shippable and Bloom/Riven are HOT and Sky/Riv are amazing as best friends and as a ship and Bloom/Beatrix should attempt to murder each other more often and Terra/Stella the long con should be more present and Aisha/Sky should get to not just interact but have a friendship, hell i'll read romance for them! Rosalind was amazing and shippable with EVERYONE in all possible ways! And I'm just so damn tired...

#pen i'm sorry you got the vent rant

[kahran042]

Encyclopedia Brown thoughts: book 15

Encyclopedia Brown Carries On

The Case of the Giant Mousetrap:

NGL, I actually found the thing about authorities removing Salvatore's paintings the instant they're discovered to be pretty funny.

Who calls a fire escape "fire stairs"?

There's a stair to the surface in the sub-basement of City Hall? Is it built into a hillside, like a lot of the buildings at the University of New Hampshire?

The Case of the Grape Catcher:

Edsel is described as “cocky”, but he really doesn’t come across that way to me. Guess that it is possible to be a successful writer without knowing about the “show, don’t tell” principle. -_-*

"While Sally and Encyclopedia fixed the meal, Edsel explained about his gifted mouth." Phrasing! ;)

Why did Edsel's parents "squash" his grape catching for a year?

The Case of the Left-Handers Club:

Guess I was wrong... this is another example of Sally being judgmental to someone who doesn't turn out to be guilty. I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing.

This story is the first place I ever saw the word "sideburn" and where I learned what they are.

The Case of the Diving Partner:

I'm not a golfer, but would diving for cheap balls for golfers to use on water holes really be that lucrative a business?

Is there really a point to mentioning Helga's age, other than as a reminder than teens are teh evulz?

The "Caution: Divers at Work" sign doesn't look that bad to me in the illustration.

I don't know... it seems like the sign would be useful if people are bopping Otis with a golf club when he comes up for air.

The Case of the Upside-Down Witness:

Elton is initially described as doing "headstands", and the illustration agrees with this. But later in the story, he's described as doing "handstands".

One of many examples of @brownencyclopedia​'s page-skimming: The fish market did not have a "sale on choice cod." It was a special where one could get three of a choice of fish, the first listed being cod, for the price of two. Here's the exact text from the book:

And, just for fun, here's what it looks like upside-down and backwards:

Some other words that this trick can work with: BECK, BEDECK, BEDECKED, BEE, BID, BIDE, BIDED, BIKE, BIKED, BOD, BODE, BODICE, BOO, BOOB, BOOED, BOOK, BOOKED, BOX, BOXED, CEDE, CEDED, CHECK, CHECKBOOK, CHECKED, CHIC, CHICK, CHID, CHIDE, CHOCK, CHOCKED, CHOKE, CHOKED, COB, COCK, COCKED, CODE, CODED, CODEX, COO, COOED, COOK, DECK, DECIDE, DECIDED, DECKED, DECODE, DECODED, DEED, DEICE, DEICED, DEICIDE, DICE, DICED, DICK, DIE, DIED, DIKE, DIKED, DIODE, DIOXIDE, DO, DOCK, DOCKED, EDDIED, EXCEED, EXCEEDED, HECK, HEED, HEEDED, HEX, HEXED, HICK, HID, HIDE, HIKE, HIKED, HOBO, HOCK, HOCKED, HOD, HOOD, HOODED, HOODIE, HOOK, HOOKED, IBEX, ICE, ICEBOX, ICED, ID, INDEED, IODIDE, KICK, KICKED, KID, KIDDED, KOI, OBOE, ODE, OX, OXIDE, XEBEC.

Was the fish market actually selling dolphin meat, or was it just dorado/mahi mahi? I'm hoping for the latter.

The Case of the Marvelous Egg:

Wilford's "marvelous" eggs aren't square. They're cubical, dammit! Cubical!

Even with the children's comments, I'm still not seeing any value to cubical eggs outside of novelty.

Why would a cubical egg be more durable than an ovoid one, anyway?

How many kids would know that skydivers always dive with two parachutes?

The Case of the Overfed Pigs:

Psy-ai-ai... another Lucy Fibbs case... so boring...

An All-Pig Olympics seems like an interesting concept, TBH. But what events would there be besides running and swimming?

This is the only case to mention Lucy's sister Carol.

It's nice to see someone else wincing at Sobol's terrible puns.

The Case of the Ball of String:

More @brownencyclopedia​ page-skimming... they suggest that Tom, John, and Charles' hobbies don't belong in Collecting for Fun, but they aren't. Proof here:

As you can see, Collecting for Fun is in Room 9 of the junior high school. And the three boys' collections?

OK, John's collection isn't given a specific room, but it clearly states in the highlighted text that he has a hobby beside the one displayed in the Collecting for Fun room, which presumably refers to his money collection. Duh.

I love how ugly John looks in the illustration for the solution.

The Case of the Thermos Bottle:

Sobol knew that "thermos" is a trademark, right?

This is one of two cases involving worm races. Still seems like a surprisingly high number.

Are caterpillars faster than worms, then? Also, wouldn't the caterpillar have to have gone through the chrysalis stage before it became a butterfly?

"Two tickets to the Crest Theater"? Aren't tickets usually to specific shows, not to the theater itself?

You'd think that the chicken race would be more relevant to the plot, but it's not.

I wonder if Rick Larsen is related to Tigers member Spike Larsen, or even if they're one and the same?

#encyclopedia brown #donald j sobol #encyclopedia brown carries on #phrasing

[fromtwinktopig]

Im blowing up lol, pizza is alway hard to eat and so stuffing omg

But yeah I’m getting very fat

And I wanna thanks everyone that keeps encouraging me ☺️

#get me fatter #gay gainer #male gaining #gaining fat #gaining weight on purpose #fedee #fat male #chubby #getting bigger #overfed teen

[ladswithlard2]

Bloody hell bro! I’m guessing you didn’t train at all in the off season. Just lazed around and stuffed your face and it shows. Your stretching those trunks to the limit. You’ve got moobs, a flabby gut, and a massive backside!

#chubby boy #chubby belly #Jelly Belly #overfed teen #college gainer #JellyBelly

[thedwightshrute]

#weight gain #beginner belly #first pounds #food baby #overfed teen #gay #male feedee #small pot belly #getting fatter #foodbaby

[thechubbyswimmer03]

Some Photos from Part 2

#teen gainer #college gainer #exjock #overfed #fit to fat #freshman 15 #fatboy #fat gainer #getting fat on purpose #getting fatter

[aaronboi18]

Random Stuffed Hunk

#stuffing kink #weight gain #bloated belly #stomach stuffing #male stuffing #overfed teen

[gaychub543]

How I hate my fast metabolism ~ 🐷

#fattened #fat teen #overfed teen #chubby boys #gay chubby

[sallysoot]

    ↱ IT’S A CONVERSATION. ↲

in the drift, the two of you are made equal. 

[ pairing ; (pacific rim AU) philza x reader ] [ stats & warnings ; 3.3k, second person, general angstiness warnings apply + some descriptive-ish kaiju death! ] [ notes ; this one’s pure self-indulgence, but i SUPER wanted to write it regardless. i tried to make it pretty easy to understand whether you’ve seen pacific rim or not, though i don’t know if i succeeded. OTL also i cannot write action at all don’t come for me with the kwoon combat scene 😭 ]

          if your mind has ever shown you kindness, its most gracious act is when it buried the memories of the day the kaiju crawled from the depths of the ocean and laid waste to your hometown. only a child, then, you were much too young to understand that the earth shaking beneath your feet was the same rumble of impending doom that had sunk californian cities and crushed lives in its rubble. when you hear others speak of that day, it sounds to you like a simple fairytale with its terrible, grim ending left intact. hastily written history calls it abedus. those that mock your personal disaster with comedy on live television call it toe-biter. you wonder what you had called it, in those memories that your psyche keeps locked away.

          you think it might have been monster. 

          an overfed orphanage replaced your childhood home, when help finally dragged you from your hiding place in the aftermath. the dark fog around your recollection subsides when you think of those times, with little to eat and the ever-present sound of children crying for parents that, for the first time in their short lives, never came back. a girl in her late teens had seen you, shellshocked and unresponsive, and took it upon herself to be the first one to care about you. her heart ached for the loss she shared in kind with you; something that your own heart could yet to bear the worst of. her name was benji, and she told stories as expertly woven as handmade tapestry. benji had promised you that when she left the orphanage, it would be to enlist in the jaeger academy. she even swore on her life that she would become a pilot to fight humanity’s latest foe. 

          ‘the kaiju will never hurt you again, okay? if any of them try, i’ll beat them up! they’d never get through me.’ she’d say, pretending to throw a punch at the air. you laughed, back then, at her pretending you were a kaiju and tickling you to death to demonstrate just how easily she’d emerge victorious. in your heart, though, you had hoped she’d never walk that path. the media made it seem glamorous, treating jaeger pilots like celebrities. but even as young as you were, you knew better than to think of it so casually.

          your silent prayers that benji would never graduate went unanswered, in the end. you saw her do it all, through the lens of the tv in the orphanage’s common room: graduate, fight, win, do interviews, become famous, promise to protect the people of the earth.

          then, in the end, you watched her die a death so horrible that there was nothing to recover or bury. her partner was dragged up from the ocean in mangled pieces, but they still had enough of him for a funeral, you heard. their jaeger, adder paladin, is laid to rest in its own graveyard, too. more people seem to mourn the mech than they do its pilots; you resent them for that.

          only months later, you outgrew the orphanage, too. benji’s optimism had taken her down a path with an untimely end, and you never shared the same blind faith she did. instead, you had resigned yourself to this: if it is inevitable that the kaiju will wipe out humankind, someday, you’d far rather meet your own demise fighting than face it hidden away in a bunker with a hundred terrified strangers.

          so you ghost through the jaeger academy. for four years, you are a specter taking tests and doing drills without leaving a trace of your presence behind. your scores speak for themselves when you refuse to; those numbers that summarize precious years of your life are what place you on a list of partner candidates for a man that you had thought much too legendary to be real, until you see him standing before you.

          phil zagami, notorious first for his victory streak and second for his vanishing act on the day it ended, stares straight through you. through everyone, really. his demeanor is heavy, its weight leaning into you as another candidate steps forward to challenge him. the last one before you, you realize. phil’s disinterest is palpable. he steps back, showing a respectful bow to his opponent— just a split second before he sweeps his staff under her leg on the first strike, sending her to the floor with a startled gasp. the time is called out from across the room. two point four seconds, and her chance had ended.

          as she collects herself and leaves the mat, phil looks to you. this time, he sets his gaze upon you instead of looking beyond. his winter-blue eyes pierce holes into yours; they invite you silently forward. so you move, gripping your staff in clammy palms and letting your feet sink into the mat. phil bows to you, so you return that respect to him.

          “let’s talk,” he says, a hint of light melting through the ice of his stare.

          a cold chill runs through your right shoulder, down to your fingertips. wide-eyed, you narrowly dodge phil’s first strike on that side. electric currents spark under your skin, guiding your foot forward to swing for his hip. he blocks you, turning on his heel to hook his foot under your knee while that foot is lifted. you lurch to that side in an attempt to force your balance. when you manage it, somehow, you swing the staff down, over his head. he clutches his own in both hands, blocking the attack with a wooden clack. 

          feeling the path of his next move, you block his return towards your chest. when you step forward, he steps back; you, to the side, him, to the side with you, circling the mat.

          it’s a dance, percussion kept in time with every breath and resounding noise of colliding weapons. the weight of his presence becomes light. his grim expression shifts into a smile and you think you might be smiling, too. phil catches you off balance on the next turn of your waltzing, catching the crook of your knee on his staff and jerking backwards.

          your back hits the floor, the wind leaving your body with it. as you lie on the floor, trying to catch your breath, phil stands over you. his chest rises and falls in time with your own. perfectly in sync, like co-pilots should be. he leans forward with his hand outstretched. you take it, letting him pull you up from the ground. when you’re upright again, he doesn’t let go right away; instead, he raises your joined hands to the air.

          the once-hopeful candidates watching your ‘conversation’ offer their support, clapping and cheering for you both. for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like a ghost. phil saw you, when you danced, in a way no one has before him. you wonder if this is how benji felt, the moment that she and marley had chosen each other.

          phil chose you. so you choose him, too, then and there.

          with your first dialogue over, you move swiftly to the second, that night at dinner. the chatter of the room goes quiet as you focus on him, listening to his voice like it’s the only thing that matters.

          “where did you go when you retired?” you ask, curiosity taking its hold.

          “i’d hardly call that retiring. i didn’t get a 401k or anything,” phil replies with a little shrug.

          “okay, not retired... left, then?”

          phil looks away, suddenly finding the contents of his plate much more interesting than you. “you’ll find out, won’t you?”

         “what do you mean?” 

         “when we drift,” he says. ��you’ll know everything, then.”

          realization washes over you. you’d almost forgotten that your designation as co-pilots is far from over. you shudder to think of him trawling through your memories, seeing every embarrassing moment and failure you’ve ever lived through. you know that it’s a necessity, in order to sync your minds to one another and the jaeger, but you wish it could be any other way. “right...” you murmur.

          “don’t go getting all reluctant on me, now. it’s not as bad as you think.” phil pushes the rice on his plate around for a moment and takes in your palpable uneasiness. “the psychologists that made the whole thing say that the ‘modesty reflex’ is one of the main reasons people aren’t able to drift. they panic and hide things, so it fails. we could get it out of the way now, if you want.”

         “uhhh-” you raise a hand, shaking your head in panic.

         “here, i’ll go first,” phil proposes. he doesn’t gve you the chance to interject before continuing, “when i was a recruit, i had this one picture from a magazine of megan fox. i liked it. i mean i really liked it, so-”

          “ew! okay, okay, no, i’ll just wait for the drift to get a load of that image, thanks.” you try to sound a bit serious, but it’s all for show and you start giggling. when phil laughs, too, your suppressed laughter gets loud until you’re cackling in the corner of the table with him. your sides feel like they might split, and it isn’t until someone from another table exclaims ‘shut up!’ that you quiet down. when phil looks at you a split second later, though, you get carried away all over again.

          that night, after practically getting heckled out of the cafeteria, you stare up at the ceiling and wonder how the drift will go, when the time comes. the next few weeks pass in a hurry; fourteen-hour training sessions in the combat room leave you tired but nonetheless fulfilled, and your skills become rounded out with the help of phil’s experience. soon, perhaps too soon, the time comes to drift with him.

         phil tries to keep your spirits high with laughter and reassurance, but he can’t hide the unease in his own form, either. he looks different, in the drivesuit; he looks like the man that you saw on tv, the one that took on impossible odds and won. there’s that hollowness to his face,though, that makes him recognizeable to you, as your friend and co-pilot. 

          you’ve never truly set foot in a jaeger before now, and its sheer scale becomes all the more apparent as you’re brought to stand in the cockpit with him. phil looks to you as the suits connect, locking you in to the fate that you’ve chosen. “they told you already,” he says, “but don’t chase the RABIT. they’re just memories, alright? don’t linger on any of them, no matter how real they feel.”

          “...i don’t remember things that happened, when i was young. will you see them?” you ask. “will i?”

          “yes, i’ll see them. do you want me to tell you what i saw, when we’re done?”

          “no, i... don’t want to know,” you decide, settling back and taking in a deep breath. some things are better left forgotten. you close your eyes and wait for the drift to begin.

          the robotic, tinny voice overhead tells you: neural handshake initiated. all at once, you’re dragged through what feels like a pane of glass, thrust into a shattering field of blue over your vision. you see yourself, young and untouched by the cruelty of the years ahead, laughing on a swingset with once-familiar hands pushing you forward. it goes blank, dark, until you re-emerge on the other side in the orphanage with benji. you see yourself stutter over a presentation in your second year of high school, and the time your first date stood you up. you see your failures laid out so plain and simple that it stings. all at once, those are overtaken by the crushing weight of watching the last news report about benji that ever ran. your memories play out like cinema, taking phil with you through each set of grief and embarrassment and every ‘first’ you remember living through. every time you want to hide, you force yourself to keep the wall down; you want this. you want to be a jaeger pilot with phil and continue the legacy that was promised to you. 

          the kaiju will never hurt you again, okay?

          the memory passes by, too, but you wish you could cling to it. you want to live in that time again, when there was only you and the promise of a future that was too distant to think of as reality just yet. when you leave this place, for the first battle that you will take on, will you be afraid? will phil be afraid, with you?

          just before your side of the neural load stabilizes, phil sees a memory of only weeks ago, of you reading through old articles about him and the battles he’d won. you nearly try to block him out of it at the moment you see yourself go red, flustered by the thought of him. of all the embarrassing things, you dread to think that had to be among them. even so, you let him walk through it, and for the first time, you have been seen. so truly and deeply that every vulnerability is exposed, handed over to him with faith that he won’t exploit it. your trust belongs to him alone. so much that parts of yourself invisible even to you have been handed over to him to keep safe; even the hours upon hours spent training with him couldn’t have prepared you for being flayed open with your heart rendered bare.

          so when phil lets you in, you think you’re ready to be shown the very same thing. his childhood is warm, and the gentle comfort of it doesn’t subside until later than in your own. you watch a kaiju tear up the seaside town he’d called home. the ground splits apart with all the struggle of eggshells underfoot, and his mother is swallowed by the earth seconds after she pushes him away from her.  you see him try to reach for her into the darkness of the pit, knelt by the edge and calling down to her in a voice shattered by overuse. he turns to look at the ocean when great calamity stirs up even more noise; a jaeger you don’t recognize rushes the kaiju, wrestling it beneath the surface of the water. its hands go violet-hot as it grips the head of the kaiju, squeezing and squeezing while the thing screeches, writhes, until its skull bursts open. toxic blood and brain matter sizzle away on the hands of the victor while phil watches in silent awe of the power before him.

          he lives with his grandparents, always thinking of the pilots that had saved the survivors of the wreckage, until he enrolls in the same academy you had attended. you see him surpass his classmates, until he graduates with incredible honors and goes straight to combat with his co-pilot: a pretty woman with silvery-white hair. you see the two of them get married a year later, then have a son a little after that. when she dies of sepsis in the aftermath, your heart aches to watch him raise the boy alone. even so, you feel the adoration in every moment they spend together. you watch him grow up and follow proudly in the path of his father. 

           wilbur becomes a pilot with an ego and the skill to back it up. he’s quick-thinking, showing the effects of his training since youth. he and phil become co-pilots, taking on battle after battle and coming away with glory. there’s a crack of thunder that marks the change in memory; you’re inside of the jaeger with them, now, and there’s flashing lights and flying sparks that tell you everything has gone wrong. with a horrible screeching sound, a long spike spears through the cockpit.

           and through wilbur. he chokes and gasps for air while phil shouts at him, watching the lifeblood pool at his feet. he’s in agony unspeakable, but you can hear it in his voice when he begs, “dad, it hurts- fuck just kill me!”

           so he does, sobbing as he takes a loose-hanging tube from the ceiling and slips it under wilbur’s helmet. your confusion turns to dreadful understanding; toxic gas will kill him even faster than bleeding out, it will make his passage less painful.

          phil pilots the jaeger alone, in piercing agony as he shares the burden of wilbur’s death with him, feeling all the pain and terror until it goes dark. the neural link is severed, there’s a complete void and emptiness where it should be. he’s not been truly alone for so long. he finishes off the kaiju in a furious twist around its neck. the beast dies, and phil nearly goes with it; the neural load is too much for one person, after all.

          he has a stroke the very moment he crashes upon the shore. it leaves him weak and useless for months. you feel his rage and frustration, trapped in his own mind and unable to speak. his body recovers, he regains his full capability in what doctors call a miracle. though his body heals, his heart does not, and the anger makes him a vicious man until they ask him to pilot again. he doesn’t want to lose another co-pilot, you hear in his protests; they eventually die out as he finds that he hates kaiju more than he fears another loss. 

          memories of the past months flicker by easily, until his side is stabilized, too. it feels as though you’ve lived through years, yet you know it’s been only moments. synced with one another and the machine, you think to reach a hand out and phil does it with you. you can feel the weight and power you’re controlling with every move, even as you turn your hand upright and give a thumbs up. phil looks to you with a wide smile. you feel his excitement and his exhaustion like it’s your own-- and it’s exhilerating to be one with another person.

          when the test is over and you’re released from the jaeger, you stumble giddily down the platform next to phil. “amazing,” you breathe, nudging your shoulder up against his. “you’re amazing. everything you did was.”

          phil shrugs, but you see him trying not to smile. “all of it was what i had to do,” he replies.

          you hesitate a little before slipping your hand into his, interlocking your fingers. “okay, mr. humble. would you rather i focus on the megan fox thing, then?”

         he laughs and rolls his eyes. “no, no, i’m good.” phil turns to you as he pauses on the platform, squeezing your hand. his expression goes a bit somber as he says, “we’ve both lost a lot, already. but i don’t want to lose you next. so when we go out there, for real... don’t be stupid. or overconfident, or whatever.”

          seeing the time for jesting is over, you nod. “i won’t.” you lean back against the wall and he follows, heaving a sigh as he does. “we’re in this together. we’ll win, together.”

          phil lets go of your hand to hug you, instead, pulling you close. “and losing?” he murmurs.

          you rest your head against him, arms wrapping just as tight around him. “that, too. together, from now until the end.”

          he rubs the small of your back with his palm outstretched. “you’re supposed to say we won’t lose.” 

          “fine, then. we won’t lose,” you concede. it feels as though you’ve known each other for far longer than a number of weeks; more like a lifetime, after having seen each other’s. you tip your head to look at him and see that he’s already looking at you, and the two of you move in sync even without the aid of the drift. phil runs his fingers along your jaw, leaning down to kiss you. 

          it’s a dance, too.

#mcyt x reader #philza x reader #mcyt fanfiction #reader insert #sally writings