#and am heading back to the dentist today

[heyclickadee]

Back to wanting to eat that bacta gel.

[peapod20001]

Hope everyone is having a good Tuesday <3

[amsznn]

Please I’m begging u could you write Chris x reader when reader gets wisdom teeth out. Pet names only baby

WISDOM TEETH - c.sturniolo

-

“todays video is gonna be a bit different guys.” chris spoke into the camera before turning it to you, revealing you leaning on the kitchen counter. “y/n’s gonna get her wisdom teeth out!” your head quickly shifted towards the mention of ‘wisdom teeth’, unfortunately being reminded of what will be your reality in a matter of moments.

“chris stop, she’s literally fearing for her life right now.” nick said while laughing. “don’t worry y/n, its not that bad.” he said while patting your shoulder.

“i dont think i wanna go anymore.” you said quickly as you remembered how much pain nick was in while he was recovering.

“it’s gonna be alright baby, we’ll be right there.” chris reassures as he wrapped his shoulder around you, still holding the camera.

it took some convincing, and maybe some bribery from your boyfriend to get you food after the procedure, to finally convince you to get in the car and go through with getting your teeth pulled out. you had been in pain for a long time, complaining about the pain the teeth were causing you.

chris knew this and knew the best thing for you was to get them out. now you all were packed in the car with matt and chris in the front, while you and nick were in the back.

occasionally chris would reach behind his chair and allow you to hold his hand for some time. he knew as you were trying to appear calm and collected, your mind was actually racing.

but that feeling would only intensify as matt pulled into the parking lot of the dentist office. you did all the regulations upon entering the building, signing in, and waiting.

before you knew it you were in the chair, about to get those teeth pulled out.

“promise, you’ll stay?” you turned over to chris, watching him with pleading eyes as he grasped your hand in his.

“promise.”

timeskip

a couple of hours passed and you were finally off of the operating table. drowsy and unaware of where you were.

“where..where am i?” you spoke. you realized there was a strange feeling in your mouth. “waths in my mouf?!” you quickly tried to take out whatever it was from your mouth before chris stopped you.

“y/n, you need those in there baby.”

confusion took over for the rest of the day as your boyfriend completed the rest of the paper work and walked you out to the car where matt and nick were waiting.

“sooo..how’d it go?” nick asked amused as he saw your state. “nick, sit in the front i wanna sit with y/n.” chris said as he opened your side of the car door. you almost face planted as you got in but nick was quick to balance you before moving to the front seat.

chris didn’t feel like filming on the way back home since he’s sure you would kill him if he ever uploaded a video of you in this state. blabbering on and on about nothing that made sense while also questioning everything and anything.

“chrissy…why are there three of you.” you pouted before poking your boyfriend’s face, the reaching to poke matt and nick’s face as well. matt swatted your hand away and scolded you since he’s driving.

“why are you yelling at me?” you frowned at matt who you thought was chris before saying, “im breaking up with you!”

chris could only laugh at your antics causing his brothers to join in as well.

“y/n that’s matt.” he softly said while caressing your shoulder.

you made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth in realization, and muttered and apology to matt for threatening him.

you all made it back home, with chris carrying you to your shared room. as soon as he set you down on the bed it was lights out for you. immediately falling asleep in your boyfriend’s bed. he smiled as he moved his face in front of yours, softly giving you a kiss on the forehead, trying not to wake you up.

“i love you, y/n.” chris whispered, to which he got a snore in response. but thats all he needed. he knew you loved him just as much.

-

a/n: sorry i didnt know how to end it but i hope you enjoyed!

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"dance recital" - hotch x mom!reader!

your family attends your daughter's dance recital

1480 words, domestic family fluff

cw: none? unless u hate kids then don't read this xD

a/n: i am looking at requests and actually have a couple of them started! inspiration just struck and i needed dance dad hotch xD plz keep sending requests i love getting them

---------------

Lizzy had been practicing for weeks, at home, in the car on the way to school, even in the waiting room at the dentist’s office. If there was a free moment, she was up on her toes, practicing her dance routine.

When she turned four, she was so excited to sign up for dance class, and now her very first recital is later today. She takes it very seriously, and you attribute that entirely to her hardworking father. 

You’re standing in the kitchen, packing the picnic lunch you’ll be sharing as a family after her recital in the park. PB&J, no crusts, for Jack. Even though he’s nearly ten and he should be eating his crusts, you can’t help but to baby him a little. He’s been such a good big brother to Lizzy. You were anxious about that when you were pregnant with her, since Jack was so used to being the only kid. And there would always be the looming presence of Haley and the family he was a part of before you came along.

But Lizzy became the center of Jack’s world when she was born. He’s so doting and always playing with her, from when she was an infant to now. 

Nutella and peanut butter sandwich for Lizzy, because she has a sweet tooth just like her mother. Turkey and cheese for you and Aaron. “D’you want mayo, honey?” You call out to wherever Aaron is in the house. He was in the living room just a few minutes ago, but with your two crazy kiddos, he could have ended up anywhere. 

“Just the mayo, no honey,” Aaron jokes and nearly makes you jump as he enters the kitchen, padding silently behind you despite being the largest person in the house. Must be that fancy tactical FBI stealth training. 

He stops at the counter, leaning against it and facing you. Your eyes meet his and his voice is low when he speaks to you. “You need to make a big deal out of this,” he prefaces, nodding to the doorway. You don’t fully know what he’s talking about, but you understand enough, so you set your butter knife down and turn around to face the doorway. Aaron makes a drumroll on his thigh. “Come on in, kids!” 

Jack enters first, in a bright orange t-shirt that is definitely a size too big. Written in blue, puffy fabric paint, no doubt by Jack himself, are the words PROUD BIG BRO. Jack’s also holding Lizzy’s hand, escorting her into the kitchen. She’s in her violet tutu and has her hair up in two haphazardly pulled-back pigtails that could only be described as the work of her father. She’s walking on her tiptoes, with her free hand arched up in a semicircle shape, mimicking all the ballerinas in her books. 

You’re beaming, and take the sight in silently for a moment before bursting into uproarious (for one woman) applause. “You guys look so great!” You exclaim, grinning at the kids, and then back at your husband. He’s got this sly look on his face and you want to smooch it off. “When did you make this shirt?” You ask Jack, stepping forward and grabbing his face with both of your hands. You kiss his forehead and ruffle his hair.

“Dad and I did it while you were at the store last night,” Jack explains. 

“I love it, baby,” you tell Jack, and he beams. You stroke the apples of his cheeks with your thumbs before releasing him. 

Lizzy lets go of her brother’s hand and leaps for you. “My big girl is all dolled up for her first recital,” You lift her up, hugging her close. “Did Daddy do your hair for you?” you ask.

“Yes! He sang our song and I didn’t cry!” she says. You always sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star to Lizzy while you brush her hair because she’s very tender-headed. It makes your heart soar to learn that Aaron did it, too. 

“I’m so proud of you!” You kiss Lizzy’s face all over until she squeals and wriggles to get away. “Why don’t you guys go play in the living room for a little bit, and we’ll get going soon,” you suggest. Jack races Lizzy into the living room, leaving you and Aaron in the kitchen alone. 

“You did her hair,” you say as you smirk up at Aaron. 

“Yeah, I know. It's not as good as when you do it,” he settles back against the counter and you roll your eyes. He’s holding his palms out, wiggling his digits. “I’ve got sausage fingers, and she cries if you pull the twist-tie too hard. It’s heartbreaking.” 

“And you made a shirt with Jack,” you say, ignoring his self-deprecation. Your smirk has turned into a full-force, Category Five Grin. 

Aaron realizes what you’re doing as you inch a little closer. He takes your wrist delicately, tugging you toward him, and you kiss his lips three times in succession, each a quick thank-you for all he’s done. “You’re the one driving her to classes twice a week,” Aaron deflects. “And Jack to school, and to soccer practice, and doing all the shopping and-“

“Aaron,” you roll your eyes in warning. You hate when he butters you up like this. You’re just doing your job, just like he is when he’s away on cases. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” he holds his hands up in defense, and you snatch them like they’re precious jewels. You kiss him again, this one longer and lingering. 

You finish packing your family’s lunch into the cooler. Lizzy’s recital is at a small amphitheater in the park, and after you drop her off with her teacher backstage, you and your boys find a good spot on the green to set up your picnic blanket. 

Aaron makes this small grunt when he squats to sit down on the ground and you hold back a snicker. Jack does not read the room and calls him an old man. 

You’re giggling as you sit down, Aaron tugging you to sit between his legs. You affectionately run your hand through Jack’s hair a few times before the first class comes up onto the stage. 

You watch the first class, and the second, clapping politely. Then, the four-and-five-year-olds are announced, and you are on your feet immediately. You hear a bit of rustling and Jack and Aaron are standing up, too. You grin when you see Lizzy with the other little kids, holding the hands of the boy in front of her and the girl behind her as they all walk in a line. 

Their dance is simplistic and whimsical and joyful, set to a light, poppy tune that makes you think of spring. You’re grinning and watching Lizzy float across the stage. She’s not the most graceful, but she hits every move at the right time.

You hear rustling behind you and turn over your shoulder to see Aaron and Jack subtly performing the dance with the class. They’re not moving nearly as dedicatedly as the group on stage, but they’re helping Lizzy from the audience. It’s so sweet you want to cry. 

When Lizzy’s group is finished, the three of you on the lawn explode in applause. Aaron wolf-whistles behind you and Jack is cheering, “that’s my sister!” 

After the other classes go, you’re allowed to head back and pick up Lizzy. She’s giggling with the other kids in her class, but she freezes and grins like it’s Christmas morning when she sees you. 

“Mommy!” she squeals, and runs to you. You lift her up off the ground in a hug and spin her around, before passing her off to Aaron. He does the same thing. “Dizzy! Dizzy!” She’s squealing, and Aaron finally sets her down. 

“Dizzy Lizzy, huh?” Aaron teases, running his thumb and his forefinger down one of her pigtails. “You did so good, sweet girl!” He was never the best at baby-talking to Lizzy, but now that she’s a little girl, he speaks to her so excitedly and she always beams when she learns her father is proud of her. 

“You got the leap at the right part!” Jack exclaims proudly, and you watch as Lizzy hugs her big brother. 

You point out the picnic blanket with the cooler and tell Jack to take Lizzy ahead to it. Jack loves being responsible, so he takes Lizzy by the hand and leads her towards your family’s setup. 

Hanging back with Aaron, you look up at him and brush his dark hair off his forehead. “You learned her dance?” you ask with a small smirk on your face. 

Aaron’s dark eyes gaze into yours and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close to him. “She was doing it every chance she got,” he shrugs, like it’s totally no big deal. “You’re telling me you don’t have it memorized?”  

[calliemity]

Orin Scrivello's Lost Head Prop: A Masterpost

Written and researched by Calliope Avery

Content Warning: Very very mild and low quality special effects gore, implied violence, uncanny valley stuff(?), Orin Scrivello's face.

Little Shop of Horrors (1986) has an unfortunate reputation of leaving a lot of really cool things on the cutting room floor. The most infamous would be the movie's original ending, a beautiful and impressive sequence of puppetry that ended up completely scrapped. However, today we're talking about a prop that never made it into the final movie in any form:

Orin Scrivello's Decapitated Head!!!

Pictured above are the only 2 photos of the prop in its original state that I can find at the moment. The left photo was taken for promotion and advertising purposes, and the right image is actually a Topps trading card! (Which I have a physical copy of, hehe!)

To put it bluntly, I am slightly (very) obsessed with this prop head. There's so much mystery around it, and everything I've managed to dig up both fascinates me and makes me very upset. So much thought and hard creative work was put into the creation of this thing, and it was left completely left out and forgotten! I desperately want more people to be aware of this, so here is my big and (hopefully) well organized masterpost on everything for your learning pleasure. Alright, let's talk about some heads!!!!!!!!!

Forming a Timeline

The earliest mention of the head can be found in an early draft of the movie script, dated February 14th, 1985. There's plenty of concepts in this script that never seemed to get past this draft, but the severed head concept was not one of them. Here, take a look!

source

This section, found on page 66 of the script, not only established the existence of the head, but also establishes the facial expression it will later take on! Clearly, this concept was good enough to be held onto once actual production started, which is good for us! If it wasn't, then this post would be a lot shorter.

Early production of the prop began after the actors were cast, as face molds of Steve Martin were created as bases for the head.

source for the left image - source for the right image

Oooo, check these guys out!!! The left one is made of plaster, and the right one is made of rubber. The website sourcing these images included a quote from Steve Martin about the casting process. Here's the full provided quote:

"These molds were taken of my head for Little Shop of Horrors. It was cast on the lot at Pinewood Studios outside of London, and I got exceedingly claustrophobic during the casting. My entire head was covered with plaster and two straws were placed in my nose for breathing. Argh." - Steve Martin

I unfortunately don't have much information about the crafting process of the prop. I'm currently trying to track down anyone who could've worked on it, but the few people I've managed to contact haven't responded to me yet. So I can't say anything concrete about who worked on it and what went into creating it. The only thing I can assume somewhat confidently is that the creation of the prop happened around the same time as filming for Orin's scenes. It would allow them to make the face molds and also match up Martin's post-mortem Orin face with the facial expression of the prop.

Here's where it starts going downhill. From what I've found, the prop was never filmed with its face toward the camera. In the workprint that I accessed from the Internet Archive, the prop appears for 2 shots, and both of them only show the back of the head. Take a look:

source - timestamp: 1:02:59

[Video description: a low quality, slightly green tinted video depicting a deleted scene from Little Shop of Horrors (1986) where Seymour is feeding the decapitated head of the dentist, Orin Scrivello, to the plant. The video starts with a man in glasses reaching into a garbage can and pulling out a dark-haired decapitated head, holding it upside-down by the fabric on its neck. The head is faced away from the camera, so only the back of its hair is visible. There are vines flailing in the foreground of the shot. The video cuts to a shot of the plant puppet laughing silently. The video cuts again to a shot of the man slowly shuffling forward while dangling the head in front and away from himself. The plant is seen on the left side, still laughing and flailing its vines. Throughout the video, there are brief flashes of light that resemble lightning. The video's audio only consists of thunder noises and an unidentifiable sound that resembles chewing noises. End ID.]

My best guess for this choice is maybe it isn't as convincing when filmed? In the photos it looks really well made and realistic, but perhaps it didn't come across that way during shots. Regardless, the head was still in the film at this point, so that counts for something!

But as you and I both know, those 2 shots were left on the cutting room floor, completely removed from the final product. The prop was left completely unused and unspoken of... except for one instance.

Remember the trading card I mentioned at the beginning? It's a part of a full set of trading cards that were made and distributed by the brand Topps. Back when the movie first came out, you could buy a pack of 5 mystery Little Shop of Horrors themed trading cards, along with a stick of bubblegum. This 44-card set is notable for featuring a lot, and I mean a LOT of images from cut movie scenes. There's photos of the original ending, there's photos from the cut sequence The Meek Shall Inhereit, and of course there's also the card featuring the prop head! However, those 2 sequences would later be rediscovered, cleaned up, and then added into the Director's Cut rerelease of the movie. The prop head wouldn't get this treatment, staying obscured, unknown, and unmentioned.

Fast forward about 30 years. A certain unused movie prop would be offered in an auction, allowing us to not only see high-quality photos of said prop in its current state, but also to allow us to know the exact materials it was made of! Without further ado, I present Orin Scrivello's decapitated head, circa 2018:

source

This absolute freak of a guy was up for auction at the "Profiles in History: Icons and Legends of Hollywood" auction on June 5th, 2018. No one ended up buying it (I would. I need to buy it actually. Please sell it to me.), but the auction gives us some absolutely divine information about the prop, such as what it's made of and its dimensions! Here's a quote from the auction website describing its materials:

"Vintage original hollow cast resin character head painted in realistic flesh tones with brown eyebrows and eyes. The 13 x 8 x 9 in. head has been polyfoam filled for stability. Exhibiting cracks to the crown, which is brittle and with other wear and age. A striking likeness of Steve Martin. In vintage good condition."

How neat! The high-resolution images allow us to see the detailed sculpting of the prop, which is still evident and impressive with its age and missing parts! The creases on the forehead, and around the mouth and eyes, the realistically colored teeth, this was clearly sculpted with a lot of attention to detail. I would've loved to have an image like this back in the prop's prime, back when it still had hair and a fresh coat of paint.

Why was it Scrapped?

This is entirely just me theorizing, but I have a feeling it's for the same reason the original ending got snubbed.

If you take the time to watch the archived workprint, you'll find a lot of cuts and changes were made that changed the tone of the whole finished project. Orin's death and dismemberment scenes got edited down a lot. Shots of him struggling and knocking things down as he falls to the ground got cut, the voiceline where he begs Seymour for help is gone. The shot where Orin's legs jolt when Seymour brings down the axe is gone too.

It's not just Orin-related scenes either! Mushnik no longer cries out for Seymour when being killed and eaten, and that's ignoring how different the scene happens in the stage musical. And obviously, the entire ending got changed so that Audrey and Seymour survive, leading to the cut of the magnificent ending sequence where all the Audrey II's destroy New York. In a way, the film got murdered and gutted of any of its real horror, with attempts to cover up any of the blood they couldn't scrub out.

In the movie's later quest to rebrand as a softer version of itself, it only makes sense that 2 shots of a decapitated head wouldn't make it. The appearance of the dismembered leg made it through, probably because it's less gruesome, but a head is... different. I obviously think it should've been kept it in, along with almost everything they trimmed from the workprint, but alas.

Tldr, they cut the head off of the movie because it wasn't funny enough.

Conclusion

This is where the information I have ends, unfortunately. I do have more research routes I would like to take, but one of them involves desperately contacting random people who I suspect could've been involved (I've tried this, I've gotten no responses from those who I've managed to find an email for), and the other route involves taking a road trip to the actual goddamn Library of Congress, which is not something I can do right now or even in the near future. So this is probably as far as I'm getting!

However! If I find anything new, this post will be updated and/or remade again, depending on how big or little the info is. For now, I think this is good enough to share, and maybe letting people know will encourage others to research this prop as well! It'll probably be easier if it's not just me, y'know.

I'll finish by saying that I think research and preservation of art like this is very important. While it's common for cool artistic things to end up cut from movies, I think preserving that those cool things existed in the first place is something worth doing. Even though this prop head was a very small part of the movie, it's clear a lot went into creating it! I feel bad that I'm not able to credit any person or people for their work, but I hope getting the word out about it will do some justice.

If you've read this whole thing, thank you so much! I appreciate your interest and I thank you for taking the time to read all this. I hope you found it as interesting and fascinating as I do!

Oh, by the way, if this post looks familiar at all, you've probably seen the original version of this post I made awhile ago. I wasn't happy with the formatting of that post, and I ended up making too many discoveries to just continue updating it. I'll keep the original up to preserve it, but reblogs will be off for it, as I want this version to be the one to go around. Thanks!

[think-like-a-poet]

Only questions

F2! reader x f2! Dennis Hauger x F3! Arthur Leclerc x F3! Ollie Bearman

official video from prema

You smile as the camera crew signals that the camera is rolling. You are standing next to Arthur on one side of a screen, while Dennis and Ollie are on the other side. "Hello everyone, welcome by the 'only questions' prema challenge."

Someone gave Dennis a piece of paper with the instructions of the challenge and he began to read it out loud, Ollie looking over his shoulder. "In this game you are given a scene, and you can only communicate in questions."

"Only questions?" Arthur asked. You giggle as you shake your head. "I think that is what Dennis just said." causing the rest to laugh in respond.

"By the way. Y/N and Arthur are a team and Dennis and I are a team." Ollie points with his fingers as he says all the names. "It is not formula 2 against formula 3."

"I still don't find it fair i got stuck with Arthur." you joked as Arthur let out a fake gasp of being hurt. Dennis and Ollie just laughed at the interaction.

"I am great at this. You should be honored."

As everything was explained to the camera, the first scene was shown. Ollie and Arthur were the first one to play and their scene was 'At the dentist.'

Ollie though for a moment before asking, "Why are you here today?"

Arthur seemed to think about something, but went with, "what about you", a big smirk plastered on his face, causing all of you to roll in laughter.

"Can you answer my question first?"

To which Arthur responded, "Why should I answer your question?" You clapped in your hands as you laughed out again. Maybe Arthur was good in a challenge for once.

"Can you just answer my question. Why are you here today?"

Arthur muffled a laugh as he let out a response "Do you want to know why I am here?"

The team decided to go to the next scene as the whole conversation was just Arthur turning Ollie's question in a question for him. You both moved places, you now standing in front of Dennis.

"What is the scenerio?" You asked, hoping Dennis wouldn't think the game already started and he didn't.

The norwagian looked at the camera confused as he said. "Still the dentist I think?" You and Arthur both point out that he didn't answer in a question and Dennis groaned in response. "No, I thought you just asked them the question. "

After some discussion you both agreed to just stand for an other round. 'Emergency landing on a plane'

"Are we going to die?" Dennis exclaimed as he faked a scared expression on his face. Behind you Arthur laughed at the face, putting one hand on your shoulder.

You crossed your arms in front of your body, "Are you scared of dying?" you tried to hold eye contact with him, hoping he made mistakes in his sentence.

"Can you swim?

You raised your eyebrows"Do you think we need to swim?"

he quickly fired back with "Do you know what we need to do?"

"Is your seat belt fastened?" you make a move of pretending to close your seat belt.

Dennis brain seemed to have an error as he said, " I am dying." you all laughed at the answer and Dennis almost fell to the ground from his own response.

When you all were recovered Arthur looked at the camera and said, "Thank you all for watching."

"We hope you enjoyed it." Ollie added and you all waved 'goodbye' before returning to your laughter.

[mj-iza-writer]

I'm going to call this series "MJ is a Whumpee", what better way to get writing experience than to actually get the experience in real life.

Of course not everyone will get to experience everything so why not share it.

So "MJ is a Whumpee" will be updated as regularly as I can. Plus I will explain what a Whumpee might experience and what they may want or need from a Caretaker or even Whumper. Some may even contain a story.

-MJ 💚

Today's (Friday, Aug 16) experience... getting a tooth pulled.

I have had a broken tooth since March 2020. I was starting to see the dentist and getting my dental health back together when covid started. Because of that I canceled my dental cleaning, and right after that my tooth broke, and had been rotting away since then. My dentist wanted to continue fixing my other teeth before any of them could break away, then send me to the oral surgeon to have it pulled.

A few months ago, I went to him because I was in so much pain. He said he believed it was the broke one causing the pain. He gave me the order to get the tooth pulled, but I had to wait for about 50 days still because of the long schedule. I was given antibiotics and painkillers to last.

This is my experience.

For most of this week I was nervous, but I think the excitement of getting it out of my mouth overpowered my nerves.

Appointment morning Friday. I woke up nervous, and the nerves get stronger as the appointment time gets closer, 1pm.

Now, I am a Whumpee without a Caretaker, I have people that will help me when I need it, but most of this I am doing on my own.

I am shaking during my drive to the oral surgeon.

Go in and get checked in. Sit in the waiting room and try to relax knowing everything would be alright.

Warning: I will be going into detail about the extraction here. I have a cut off as I will be explaining the process, and I know that could gross or squick some out.

There will be a story under here as well.

I get sat down and talk with the dental surgeon, then sign some paperwork.

I received the shots to numb, and I waited for 10-15 min for the numbing to fully take affect.

The surgeon finally comes in and makes sure I am numb before they get started.

I am given a spacer to keep my mouth open, and gauze is put their as well.

As the dentist starts to work, a third person comes from above my head and says, "I am going to support your neck and head". I then feel hands around my throat and chin, not to choke, but they do have some pressure here.

Even while getting my tooth pulled I'm thinking about Whumpee and what would happen with someone holding their throat while two other people are pulling a tooth out. Like flashbacks, PTSD, crying, past trauma. You can really add some nightmare fuel here.

So I can feel pressure as they are shaking my head. Pulling the tooth, moving it back and forth.

The sounds.... Oof, I cringed. Just imagine the sound of a tooth getting pulled from your jawbone and skin. It sounds like shredding and wet.... ugh. Then it is right there by your ear, just 🤢

The oral surgeon tells me that I will hear the sound of the dental drill like at the dental office. It's almost louder though.

It's sensory overload, taste, sound, people in your mouth.

I know I moaned a few times. I couldn't feel anything, but I was imagining how painful it would have been.

She then went into stitching... now I can't feel anything going on, but I could only imagine what that felt like without numbing.

I had to bite down on gauze for around an hour during my drive home on my own. I needed to go to the pharmacy first to get medicine. I bought myself a gift for being so brave though.

Story time... though I do not have a caretaker, I will be giving Whumpee one in this story, because I love my Caretakers.

Caretaker made a small breakfast for Whumpee. They said they weren't really hungry, but Caretaker wanted them to have something in them for later.

Whumpee slowly picked away at the breakfast.

Caretaker watched as Whumpee's shakiness made it hard to function.

"It's okay to be nervous", Caretaker patted Whumpee's shoulder gently, "it's a new experience."

"I think my excitement is making me less nervous, but I'm so scared still", Whumpee admitted.

"I'm glad you're excited. You've come a long way. I'm glad your dentist said it was time to get this done now", Caretaker smiled as they cleared the table, "we will leave in about an hour, the paperwork is done. But they need to scan a few things before the appointment."

Whumpee nodded.

Later on, Caretaker was reviewing Whumpee's records to make sure they had everything in order. They were going to a new place to have the tooth removed.

"I can't believe you've had all of these visits already", Caretaker reminisced, "we are finally getting somewhere."

"Whumpee if you would, please brush your teeth", Caretaker called.

"Okay", Caretaker heard Whumpee get up from the couch and head to the bathroom.

Caretaker thought back to the timid patient they had taken in only two years prior.

Whumpee had come out of a long term hostage situation. They had a lot of medical needs, but their dental was a big issue.

Caretaker had to take them in every couple of months to have their teeth checked and cleaned. This broken tooth had been watched closely and it was causing major pain now. So the dentist said it was time.

Whumpee was finally taken back and sat down.

After consulting with the dentist and Whumpee getting a full run down on everything that would be done they decided to start numbing Whumpee's mouth.

The dentist left for a few minutes while the numbing took affect.

"You heard the part about an assistant holding your neck", Caretaker reminded Whumpee.

Whumpee nodded, "I don't really know how I'm going to feel about that, but I know it needs to be done."

Caretaker nodded, "I will be right here with you, and I will react as we have practiced in the past for when you have an episode."

Whumpee nodded again.

When everyone came into the room Caretaker went over what would happen if Whumpee had a flashback or anything of the sort. Then explained to them what steps they would need to take to keep Whumpee safe.

Once agreed upon, everyone got into place.

Whumpee moaned while the dentist harshly wiggled the tooth.

"I know you are feeling pressure, but is there any pain" the doctor stopped for a moment."

"Nu-uh", Whumpee mumbled.

Caretaker stayed down at Whumpee's feet and gently squeezed their toes. They had done this multiple times during Whumpee's appointments.

Whumpee said it helped them be able to focus and know they were not alone.

The tooth was finally out and everything was set. Whumpee just needed to rest for a few minutes before they could get up.

They smiled weakly when Caretaker came around.

"I am so proud of you", Caretaker gently ran their hand through Whumpee's hair and straightened a few snarls, "you did so good."

"Thankyou", Whumpee tried to talk with a giant piece of gauze in their mouth, "they said I can keep the tooth."

"Yes I heard them. I know you wanted to keep it", Caretaker smiled, "when you feel ready we can head to the pharmacy and go home."

"I think I feel alright", Whumpee started to sit up.

Caretaker laughed at Whumpee during their drive. Whumpee sat in the passenger seat poking their cheek.

"It's so numb", Whumpee poked at their cheek a few more times, "I don't know if I like it, it feels weird."

"Yes I don't much enjoy getting numbed myself", Caretaker agreed.

"So what else are we doing today?", Whumpee looked around.

"Well we are going to the pharmacy to get your medicine the dentist sent out, and you may pick out something for doing so well", Caretaker smiled as Whumpee's eyes lit up, "then we are going home so you can rest."

Whumpee nodded, "may I pick out a toy or maybe a coloring book?"

"Yes, you can pick out anything you like", Caretaker nodded.

"I wonder if I'm to old to be wanting toys though", Whumpee frowned.

"No one is ever too old to enjoy toys", Caretaker frowned, "adults can enjoy toys just as much as anyone else."

Whumpee now sat in the living room happily looking at the item they had chosen.

"How are you feeling?", Caretaker peaked in at them, "is the numbing waring off yet?"

"I think it is a little now", Whumpee felt their cheek.

"Okay, let's get that medicine in you, and I have a surprise for you as well", Caretaker smiled.

"A-a surprise?", Whumpee's eyes lit up.

"I'll be right back", Caretaker turned.

Caretaker came back with a huge grin and a container with Whumpee's meds.

"What is the surprise?", Whumpee eagerly took the medicine.

"Just a few minutes more, and I'll bring it out for you", Caretaker chuckled.

Whumpee set their item to the side and watched the doorway for Caretaker to come back in.

"Alright Whumpee", Caretaker came in carrying two plates, "I stayed up late making this for you, so I hope you enjoy."

"Is that your jello?", Whumpee's eyes sparkled, "you haven't made that in so long."

"Since your last major procedure.... I feel like it's a bit of a tradition now to have jello after you have something major done. This will also be easy for you to eat."

Whumpee looked excitedly at the plate they were holding. This jello was almost a comfort treat for them. It was the first treat Caretaker had made for them when they first came to live with them.

Whumpee had to have a several surgeries around their mouth and jaw so they were very limited. The jello became a sweet treat that Caretaker made them multiple times.

Caretaker sat down across from them.

"I, of course, have to have some as well", Caretaker smiled as they remembered eating the jello with Whumpee after the procedures. This way, Whumpee could enjoy it with someone else.

Whumpee quickly scooped some into their spoon, then jiggled it a little as they lifted it to their mouth.

They giggled happily at the familiar safe flavor.

"This brings back so many memories", Whumpee smiled as they scooped up more, "it taste so yummy."

"I'm glad you like it. There was a while when you ate this daily after meals... I'm surprised you didn't get sick of it", Caretaker laughed as Whumpee played with the treat.

"The one food that it is okay to play with", Whumpee giggled again.

"Yes, but I do need to put a small damper on things", Caretaker sighed, "I would like you to take a small nap after eating this. You used up a lot of energy with your nervousness and stress. Plus it will let your body have time to heal. Are we okay with that plan?"

Whumpee looked up and nodded, "I do feel a little tired."

"I can imagine", Caretaker smiled.

Caretaker sat across from Whumpee while they slept. They were organizing Whumpee's care chart.

"Such a brave soul, everything you went through. I'm so proud of you", Caretaker smiled as they set the book aside, "it's an honor taking care of you."

Notes from the last day.... movement of my mouth is limited, and I am very sore. 🥲

Yes, I absolutely kept my tooth that was pulled out. I also ate blue raspberry jello that night as well.-MJ 🦷

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @clevah-girlboss

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie

[willowworkswithwords]

Good Morning Coffee – Seth Avett

-

Steve just couldn’t get a break, could he?

This customer was ridiculous, truly. They were gonna run out of sugar at the rate he was going, and they were a coffee shop. They ordered enough sugar to supply a whole neighborhood’s worth of sugar.

It was like each week he changed his order just so, adding a touch more or “oh yes please add whipped cream to that” (as if they hadn’t learned the first time that he absolutely needed whipped cream, even that one time he got a black coffee. Which, to be fair, made it not a black coffee).

Steve got the impression he was a funny guy, for all Robin laughed and laughed each time he came to the window. He made Steve wish they were the kind of coffee shop to ask for people’s names, or wish, for just a fleeting second once or twice a day, that he could hear well enough to actually take orders through the headset. And, damn him, this guy only came in during the morning rush and only through the drive thru. Steve didn’t really know anything about him, besides a guess at outrageous dentist bills and a glimpse or two of dark, curly hair piled in a  high bun.

So Steve just made this man’s coffee around eight o’clock every morning, and wondered.

- - -

“Steve, you’re squinting.”

“Shut up Robin, I’m fine.”

“Have you taken your meds yet?”

Steve turned his back to her, eyes focused on the screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Robin cross her arms.

“Steve, my beautiful friend. Take your medication.”

“Rob, really, I’m ok—”

Bells.

Steve turned around with a smile, launching into his spiel before he’d even fully turned around. And when he did, the words died in his mouth.

“Hello welcome to Groovy Gary’s—”

Dark curly hair. Silver rings. It was the sugar guy. He was. Wow. He was something else. He had tattoos, his outfit all black, piercings and bracelets and and and—

Reboot, Harrington, stop staring.

“Hi!”

Too chipper, Steve. Robin smothered a laugh from where she was covering the window, and Steve wanted to melt into the sticky floor.

“Hey there.” A shit-eating grin spread across his face and Steve was only sort of annoyed by it.

“How can I help you?”

Act natural Harrington, act natural.  He tried to lean against the counter and put his hand directly into the cup of stopper sticks. Sugar-guy saw. Shit he definitely saw. Steve cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.

“I was coming in for a coffee.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek to keep from rolling his eyes.

“A coffee? I don’t know, we might be low, I’ll have to ask Robin if we have any in stock.”

A shit-eating grin.

“You remember my order?”

“How do you know it’s me making it?”

Sugar-guy glances around behind the counter. It’s only Steve and Robin, as it’s almost always only Steve and Robin. Except on—

“Except on Thursdays. That grumpy guy makes mine on Thursdays.”

Steve laughs.

“Keith.”

“He hates me.” His voice is full of despair, and Steve laughs again.

“Wow, what are you gonna do? You’re not every baristas favorite customer.”

“Am I your favorite customer?”

Steve pretends to think, tapping his finger against his chin.

“Well man, you never get the same thing in a row, but your variations are definitely interesting.”

“You know my variations?”

Sugar-guy is looking at Steve up through his lashes, hair pulled across his mouth, barely hiding the grin.

“Do you only eat sugar?”

Another laugh.

“Hey, I order black coffee sometimes.”

“Dude, you order it with whipped cream. That’s not black coffee.”

A car horn blares outside the drive-thru window. Robin comes up on Steve’s right.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Steve, it’s Mrs. Click. She’s spitting mad already, which I don’t how that’s possible because it looks like she just rolled out of bed. They wrong side of the bed, maybe.”

“Oh Jesus, ok.” He turns to sugar-guy.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I never got your order.”

“Oh, nothing for me today. Got something for you.”

Steve tilts his head and automatically takes the things Eddie holds over the counter. With a wink Steve barely catches, sugar-guy’s walking out the door. Steve looks down at the…napkin? The folded napkin. He unfolds it.

Eddie Munson 432-9090

Steve doesn’t stop smiling all day.

[ceilingfan5]

taz musical theater au, please :O??? -ise (currently listening to broadway Anastasia and going buckwild again /lh)

"So," Kravitz says, the door closing behind him dramatically. He doesn't put his bag down like he usually does. Instead he looks stiff and frustrated and confused. And cute. Still painfully fucking cute, as always. "I was surprised to see you at the casting call today."

"Why? You've been talking about it since I moved in last month." Taako kicks his feet off the edge of the couch and keeps pretending to read the magazine he stole from the dentist yesterday, as revenge for having to be there. It's months old, but some of the recipes are still interesting.

Kravitz makes a face like he is trying, with all his might, not to telegraph how confused and frustrated he is. Too bad. Consider that code morsed, buckaroo. Tappity tap tap, you've betrayed how you feel. Better luck when the telephone gets invented. 

"It's just," he says. "I did not think you were interested in musicals. Or this musical, specifically. Or being in the musical that I am running, and taking very seriously, by the way."

"Did I do a bad job in my audition?" Taako audibly turns a sleek page, and pretends to be interested in Cheez-it encrusted lamb nuggets. "You don't have to give me a call back if I'm not right for the part."

"No," Kravitz sighs, shaking his head. He clutches his bag close, like it will be a weapon against the great unknown of Taako's mysterious motives. "You were–amazing. I was afraid we weren't going to have a villain this round. You- Taako- " Kravitz walks over and grips the back of the couch. Taako looks So Very Incredibly Casually up at him, smirking. "You absolutely bodied your audition." 

"Cool," Taako says, like it doesn't matter at all. Like, oh, chips were on sale? That's nice, maybe we'll make some dip. Maybe not. "I thought there was uh, a process for letting people know they're in." 

"There is!" Kravitz stresses. "But we live together. Taako, we live together, I've known you for almost two months now, I've been talking about this musical all summer, and I've never heard you sing! What- I didn't know you even knew where the playhouse was!" 

"Google maps," Taako provides helpfully. He closes his magazine thoughtfully. Maybe tomorrow he will get some Cheez-its. Lamb nuggets can't be that bad, can they? 

"That's not my question!" Kravitz looks, get this, confused and frustrated. It's hard not to laugh right at him.

"What is your question?" Picture of innocence. Stock photo of a sky-blue day. Motives? What motives? 

"Why did you try out for my musical??" 

"Bored. Sounded fun," Taako says with a shrug. 

"Are you interested in musicals??" Kravitz looks like the unhingedness of this line of interrogation is dawning on him a little late. 

"Who isn't?" 

"Taako!" That grip on the couch is so tight. Fuck, he's gorgeous. Maybe a little dim, though. 

"Kravitz!" Taako grins. "Did you not want me there? Is there a problem? I thought this roommate thing was going okay." 

"It-" Kravitz throws his hands in the air and huffs. "You're allowed to be there!" 

"Oh good," Taako says, playing as stupid as he can manage with a straight face. "Not gonna get arrested today. Probably." 

"Taako-" 

"I mean you never know," Taako adds conversationally. "Always good to be prepared." 

"Are you going to take this seriously??" 

"Course," Taako says, and shrugs. 

"You're not just doing it to fuck with me??" Kravitz. Darling. Really? Your first guess is that he's being mean, and not trying to follow you to a second location because he doesn't want to miss out on his Kravitz time? Sabotage, and not ooey-gooey crush the likes of which an adult ought not have to suffer?? Has Taako been Too Subtle? 

"Why would I do that?" Taako tosses the magazine onto the side table. The two of them watch the whole pile of shit slide slowly onto the floor. Sheet music and snacks and playbooks and photos and maybe the lost remote go all over in slow motion. Taako looks back at Kravitz. Kravitz looks pinched. Calzone of a dude here. Dumpling, even. What's in your pocket, guy? What savory morsels are you withholding? 

"I don't know," he says, after a long, painful moment. "But I'm going to find out." And he turns and marches toward his room. 

Wuh oh. Maybe they got two very different messages on what this story is about. Should he say something? 

Then again…Taako doesn't mind an enemies to lovers plot. Not one bit. 

[theworldoffostering]

You guys, I feel like I’m drowning. These past three weeks have felt unmanageable to me. Like, I don’t know how to keep going.

I’m walking alongside (trying the best I know how) the older girls as one navigates this break up and the other tries to transition to college. We got DD a car, but it still needs a few repairs. She was here all afternoon today working on it with DH.

I am waiting for the updated version of Ms. 6’s IEP to hit my inbox to send it off to the school. I am also working on her housing contract. Then I think I can step back for a few weeks. Still trying to figure out what’s going on with graduation. Her mom is back to letting her go to it and maybe allow her to stay for dinner, but it’s Memorial Day weekend and I don’t want to put a deposit down for a dinner somewhere only to have her not be allowed to attend at the last minute. I also don’t want to disappoint her. I’m unsure of how to proceed, so I’m just sort of frozen.

DS takes his civics test next week. You have to pass in order to graduate high school. He has prepared and seems like he will do well. He’s also pole vaulting and doing well at that for being a novice and having very little practice time due to the crummy weather we’ve been having.

Work is a lot right now. It’s to be expected due to the time of year. I can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s a lot to slog through.

DH was verbally offered a job this week as a special education teacher. He is supposed to return to school to get his teaching certification in about a week, and is waiting for a letter of intent via email from the potential employer. It’s a lot. We are trying to manage the financial aid piece and we are up against a super tight deadline right now. His interview for the job was virtual, so he’s heading to the school next week to actually tour it and meet his potential coworkers. In the spirit of living in a small town, one of the women he used to live who was in live with him (for real)—the housing situation was work related—works at the school. She has legit not spoken to myself or DH since he and I got engaged so that seems like it will be super awkward (although she is also married now and has kids).

DH is finally seeing a decent therapist and between the therapist and neuropsych eval he had done during fall, it is apparent he is super depressed. Depressed is apparently his baseline and super depressed happens quite a bit. It is helpful to have it identified, but wow, it is a lot to live with. I am really struggling as his wife because he cannot do much and is not really emotionally available 90% of the time. He’s so inwardly focused, that he cannot focus on me, the kids, relationships, stuff that needs to be done, etc. I’m drowning and he cannot take on any of the workload. It sucks.

My endocrin had me take b12 supplements the last three months and my level actually decreased. I’m starting up with b12 injections next week. My TSH is also super, super low which means I’m hyperhyroid and should be losing weight, but I’m gaining which also sucks.

My endocrin is out of network for me which means my injections will be out of network. I have ZERO out of network benefits. The whole healthcare system is atrocious. I refuse to go back to the three endocrins I saw before I connected with my current one. They were all terrible, but in network. I need a super expensive full body scan but I for sure cannot pay for that out of pocket, so I’m waiting to see if my GP will prescribe it when I see him in June.

My crown also broke this week and when the dentist looked at it, I had worn a hole clear through the middle. He said it was due to grinding/stress. I wear a mouth guard religiously at night, so it’s happening during the day. :-/ Cue more medical bills. They glued my current one back on and can’t get me in to work on repair until June. I almost cried when trying to schedule with them because I just cannot even do all of this any more. (It also hurt wicked bad last time they fixed it so I’m somewhat terrified to return.)

That’s my list of complaints/brain dump. There’s more, but I need to wrap up some grading and get dinner going. I miss a life that was easier and less complicated.

[letmeridethatstaff]

The Truman and (Y/N) Show

Chapter 4: Travelers Beware

Word count: 4.3 K

Relationship: Truman Burbank x Reader

Disclaimer: this is all parody. I do not own the Truman show nor do I claim it. Do not repost. Do not translate and repost.

Warnings:

- baby talk of course

- lies

- their life is a television show from birth so ya know

- water aka ocean and fire

- uhhhh idk if I miss some tell me

Not edited and written like weeks apart.

———————

Truman and (Y/N) ended up sleeping in for the day. They made coffee and put their plan into action. After Angela left they did their normal routine, with a small difference. If they really were being watched then the running water of a shower would drown out their whispers. In the shower they planned. Pack a suitcase in the morning and rush to the travel agency after breakfast.

Going into the agency they both noticed posters of multiple disasters: TRAVELERS BEWARE! TERRORISTS, DISEASE, etc. another with lightning shooting through a plane mid flight- IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU!

Truman and (Y/N) sat down in front of the desk. Eventually a lady comes out with a napkin around her neck. “I’m sorry to keep you!” Truman stands up as a gentleman would do- as he was raised to do.

“Oh it’s okay!” Truman quells her.

“How can I help?” She sits down and removes the napkin.

“We would like to book a flight to Fiji, please.” (Y/N) chimed. The lady starts typing away at the computer.

“When would you like to leave?” Truman picks up his suitcase tapping the side.

“Today.” She nods and goes back to typing. The computer beeps a few times, and Truman perches his arms onto the desk. His chin resting on his hand. She starts shaking her head.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything for at least a month.” She turns to the both of them.

“A month?!” (Y/N) exasperated.

“I’m afraid it’s the busy season.” Truman scoffs.

“Do you want to book the flight?” She points to the computer.

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll make other arrangements. ‘Kay?” (Y/n) smiles to the lady. Truman and her get up to leave.

~

Their backup: the bus station.

The conductor yells: “LAST CALL FOR CHICAGO! ALL ABOARD!” As Truman was getting the tickets she waved down the bus conductor. The bus director blows his whistle. Truman finally got the tickets,”Thank you!”, and they raced off to the bus.

“Windy City, here we come!” Truman tells the bus conductor as he hands him their tickets. They get aboard. As they get aboard a little girl peeks out behind a seat.

“Mom isn’t that-“

“Shhh sweetie face the front.”

(Y/N) and Truman make it to their seats. The bus starts to sound horrendously loud with gears grinding onto one another. After a few attempts of starting the bus a loud hissing sound comes from the engine along with smoke of some sort.

“Everybody off. We’ve got a problem.” The bus director climbs aboard to tell them. Immediately everyone gets up. Either for their luggage or to leave. No one complains. Everyone files off the bus while Truman and (Y/N) stay.

“I’m sorry you two.” The bus driver seemed put down by the events. He then gets off the bus.

~

The scene cuts to audience members.

AM 1: “Why are they trying to go to Chicago?”

AM 2: “Well you see Truman’s dad was from Chicago, wasn’t he?”

AM 1: “No. his dentist was from Pensacola. His father was from Des Moines.”

AM 2: “B-but how come they want to go to Chicago?”

AM 3: “Their not going to Chicago. Their not going anywhere.” She shakes her head, “They won’t let them.”

~

The scene changes to the next morning. (Y/N) heads outside to see Truman still sitting in his car after not going to work.

“Truman?” She asks hesitant, “you okay?” Their neighbor and Pluto the Dalmatian was staring at them- as if they were also concerned.

“Get in.” He gestures with his fingers. She climbs into the passenger seat.

“What is it?”

“Look-“ he shows the rear view mirror. They wait, “I predict in just a moment we will see a lady on a red bike, then a man with flowers, and then a Volkswagen Beetle with a dented fender.” She waits and watches with him. It happens- a lady on a red bike, a man with flowers, the beetle with a dented fender.

“M-maybe it’s just an uh routine?” She was nervous and worried trying to call herself, picking her cuticles. Truman gently grasps her hands to stop her.

“Maybe OR- their walking the block. They just go around and around and around.” Truman started acting funny. She had it.

“Get out-“ she quipped.

“What-“ he was shocked. They never had a tongue with one another.

“Switch seats with me- now.” She started to climb into the drivers seat.

“Okay okay- OW!” A muffled sorry came through.

“Let’s go- now- let’s go to Fiji.” He starts laughing and so does she. His more hysterical and hers more nervous. She buckles up and so does he. She slams the gas and they back out. She starts driving in circles around the round about.

“Let’s forget Fiji!” Truman yells. “Can’t drive to Fiji!”

“ATLANTIC CITY!!!” She spins out towards a random road. Suddenly multiple cars and a truck stop them.

“Blocked at every turn.” She taps her thumb on the steering wheel.

“Beautifully synchronized, don’t you agree?” They look at each other- they know.

“Ya know what we should head home.”

“Agreed.” She speeds backwards towards to round about. “ACTUALLY-“ Truman pips up, “let go to New Orleans, party c’tay!” Truman sticks out his tongue and shakes his head back and forth- a goof- she smiles. Turning down the same road and the traffic is completely cleared.

“Like magic, wouldn’t you agree dear?”

“Absolutely, my love.”

~

Fuck. Why did they have to live on an island.

“We can turn back.” Truman tells her. The bridge loomed in front of them. The windows were rolled down, making the sound of the lapping waves all the more present.

“Absolutely not. My fears not as bad as yours…” they looked at each other. “Close your eyes.” She asks Truman. She starts speeding over the bridge, swerving slightly- “WE’RE OVER THE BRIDGE!” She exclaims happily. Truman laughs cheering with excitement and relief.

A warning sign on the road: FOREST FIRE WARNING

“Truman what about the sign!”

“Pull over I’ll drive! Don’t worry, I think it’s just an exaggeration!” She pulls over and they switch seats. As they keep racing down the road- a fire wall appears.

“Exaggerating?! That’s a literal wall of fire!!” He keeps pushing the gas and drives through the wall. Smoke fills the cabin of the car.

“Shit! Truman we have to be on fire!”

“It’s okay! It’s okay! It’s just smoke!” The smoke starts to disapate, “You okay?”

“Yes!” She coughs out.

“Wanna do it again?!” He laughs.

“No!” She laughs and smacks his arm.

~

A while later down the road.

“How do you think everyone will take this?” (Y/N) asks knowing that if this really was real life and not a show- her family (and Angela) would be worried sick.

“I don’t know but I do know I’m glad we don’t have a pet- let alone a kid.”

“Agreed.” A siren started to blare.

“What now?” Truman sighed. (Y/N) started biting her nails. He grasped her hand with one of his and kissed the back of it. She took a breath. They arrived at a scene of a nuclear plant being blockaded by the police.

Truman has the windows rolled down, “Back up! Back up!” An officer yelled at them. A speaker blared about a Red Alert, “There’s been a leakage at the power plant.”

“Is there anyway around?”

“Whole areas being evacuated.”

“Well good luck and thanks for the help.” (Y/N) pipped up.

“You’re welcome, (Y/N)!” The officer saluted and walked away.

She nor Truman said their names.

“(Y/N).” Truman whispers to himself with a dawning realization. He swiftly, discreetly unbuckles himself and (Y/N). They rush out of the car and into the woods.

“Hold my hand!” Truman shouts, they grasp each other's hand. Almost as if to say they have each other. That they aren’t crazy.

People in hazmat suites started to chase them in the woods. The perfect woods, in perfect rows. Truman found a stick and started swinging it at the people. Truman was tackled to the ground. “Truman!”

~

“Thank you for bringing them back officers.” Sam, (Y/N)’s mother, had been called to watch them. Unknown who called them- the police most likely- or…others.

“Next time, we’ll have to file charges.”

“I understand.” She nods to them, “Thanks again, good night.” She closes the front door. She stocks her way over to Truman and (Y/N) in the kitchen. (Y/N) was holding an ice pack to Truman’s head from where he was tackled.

“I swear I’m fine.” He whispers. She shakes her head at him.

“Fine,” she whispers, shaking her head. She reached up and kisses his forehead. Sam walks over to the counter and stands in front of them both.

“Let me get you some help,” Sam gently whispered. “You are not well.” A moment passed before (Y/N) asks.

“Mom, why do you want me to have kids? You can’t stand Truman.” She’s exhausted, he knows, everyone knows their in-laws hate their spouses.

“That’s not true!” Sam exclaims almost offended. She turns around briefly. Turning back to them with a cocoa tin in hand and a large smile. “Why don’t you let me fix you some of this new Mococoa drink? All natural cocoa beans from the upper slopes of Mount Nicaragua- no artificial sweeteners!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” (Y/N) exasperated, she looks around. “Who you talking to?!”

“I’ve tasted other cocoas. This is the best!” Her mother was nervous- for some reason. She never really acted like a mom growing up. More like…a playmate. Babysitter almost.

(Y/N) stands up, “What the hell does this have to do with anything?” She’s walking towards Sam. “Tell me what’s happening!” She shouts. Truman stands up.

“You’re having a nervous breakdown, that's what!” (Y/N) scoffs as her mom backs up from her approaching form.

“What the hell mom!”

“(Y/N) you’re scaring me!” Sam grabs the dicer that can peel, dice, and chop.

“Hey hey! Don’t point that thing at her.” Truman stands in front of (Y/N).

“Alright enough you need to leave!”

“Fine! But don’t come crawling back to me when you need a babysitter!” Sam states. But ever so faintly just barely at a whisper, such unprofessional conditions.

That was the final straw. She broke. Sobbing Truman held her- her whole life a lie- or maybe she was lying to herself. But if that’s the case how did Truman experience the same things?

~

A few moments later Marlon showed up at the door. He had heard what happened and wanted to check on them both. (Y/N) was curled up against Truman with her puffy eyes. They had talked about their childhood with one another. How Marlon got pneumonia because (Y/N) wanted to play North Pole and camp outside. How Truman and him would cheat off each others tests- right together and wrong together.

The scene on the tv cuts to Cristoff- “…but, well, the point is I’d gladly walk in front of traffic for you two.”

The scene changes back to Marlon and the Burbanks. “…well the point is I’d gladly walk into traffic for you two.”

Back to Cristoff: “And the last thing I’d ever do is lie to you. Either of you.”

Marlon’s back on screen, “And the last thing that I would ever do…is lie to you. I mean think about it, if everybody is in on it.” He starts to get choked up. “I’d have to be in on it too.” He takes a sip of the beers he brought. “I’m not in on it because…there is no “it”…You both were right about something though.”

“What’s that?” Truman’s whispers.

“The thing that started all this…” he gets up and goes outside. They follow him. In the fog there stands a figure. A familiar one.

“Yep. I found him for you, Truman. That’s why I came by tonight.” He tsked, “I’m sure he’s got quite a story to tell.” The camera pans closer to Truman’s face. “Go to him.” Marion whispers placing his hand on Truman’s shoulder. The figure walks closer to them.

The scene goes back to Cristoff. “Easy on the fog. Stand-by light post cam.” A second passes, “Post cam.”

The scene changes to Truman. Marlon has wrapped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder as they watch Truman. He gets closer to his father.

Back to Cristoff. “Button cam three.” The scene is now through a button cam hidden on the cardigan. It’s Truman.

The tv shows audience members holding one another.

“I never stopped believing.” Truman tells his father.

More audience members are shown: this time a pair of older ladies. With a Truman pillow and (Y/N) mugs.

Christof returns on screen, “And wide curb cam eight.” The scene is now from the curb- a fully body wide shot from the side of Truman and Kirk.

“My son! Oh!” His father embraces him. (Y/N) is shown leaning on Marlon’s shoulder and sniffling.

Christof and a crew member appear on screen. “Move in for a close-up?” They suggest.

“N-n-no no…” his hand is raised while the other holds a pen. “Move back and…fade up music.” The music swells from the live piano player. “And now go in close!”

Truman’s father speaks, “All those years wasted! I’ll make it up to you son. I swear it.” Their still in an embrace. The camera zooms in to Truman’s smiling face above his fathers shoulder.

“Dad.” Truman cries. The crew starts to cheer. So does everyone else- the rest of the world- the audience members.

“Bravo!” Cries a crew member.

“That was a really great experience.” Everyone gives congratulations to Cristoff.

The scene changes to Sylvia. Sitting in the floor before her television. She watches Truman and (Y/N) share a cup of Mococoa- an ad plays below it as they drink. Sylvia’s face contorts with anger. More anger for the way he— Christoff— manipulates them.

The scene then shows a sort of replay or recap of The Truman and (Y/N) show- how it came to be. The picture of the two of them drinking coco is put in the upper right part of the screen.

Announcer: 1.7 billion were there for his birth, and later 2.3 billion for hers. “A star is born” flashes on the screen across baby photos. Over 200+ countries tuned in for their first steps. The world stood still as (Y/N) had her first kiss. As they grew so did the technology. An entire human life recorded on an intricate network of hidden cameras. A clip of Truman and (Y/N) through their neighbors trash can is shown. Broadcasted live and unedited 24 hours a day, 7 days a week to an audience around the globe. Coming to you now form Seahaven Island enclosed in the largest studio ever constructed- the scene zooms out to show the scale of the dome as it lives right above the Hollywood sign in LA- along with the Great Wall of China, one of only two man made structures visible from space. Now in its 30th great year it’s The Truman and (Y/N) Show!

~

Interviewer: “What a week it’s been. I don’t know about you— I was on pins and needles the entire time.”

The scene shows someone taking a bath with the television set up right next to it. The scene then changes back to the interviewer, Mike.

Interviewer: “Hello and good evening. I’m your host Mike Michaelson and welcome to Tru-(Y/N)-Talk our forum for issues growing out of the show a rare and exclusive interview with the shows conceived and creator. So, come with us now as we go live to the lunar room. On the 221st floor of the Omni Cam Echosphere. This is where we’ll find the world’s greatest Televisionary-“ the camera zooms into the moon to show Cristoff. “The designer and architect of the world within a world that is Seahaven Island—Christof.”

Mike: “Before we begin, I’d like to thank you on behalf of our audience for granting this exclusive interview. We know how demanding your schedule is- and we know how jealously you guard your privacy. This, sir, is indeed an honor.”

Christof: “Don’t mention it.” He sits down.

Mike: “Well, the catalyst for the recent dramatic events on the show has been Truman’s father. Kirk— and his attempts to infiltrate the show, but before we get into that. I think it’s worth noting that this is not the first time someone from the outside has attempted to reach both (Y/N) and Truman, is it?”

The scene changes to show (Y/N) and Truman spending the holidays together. Both of their families gathered watching the young (Y/N) and young Truman open presents.

Christof: “We have had close calls in the past…” A man pops out of a large present. Shouting: “(Y/N)! Truman! It’s television! Yes!” Their mothers pick them up and carry them out and their fathers wrestle the intruder. “I did it! I’m on the Truman and (Y/N) show!”

The scene changed once again, this time it shows Truman at the newsstand. A parachuter is coming down behind him in the background.

Mike: “But there’s never been anything to compare with this most recent breach in security— the first intruder to be a former cast member…” the parachuter has a sign taped to the front of his chest: TRUMAN YOU ARE ON TV! The scene changes back to Christof.

Christof: “A dead one at that.”

Mike: “Gotta say, writing Kirk back in— Masterstroke.”

Christof: “Since Kirk started this crisis in Truman’s life— and by association (Y/N)’s — I came to the conclusion that only he could end it.”

The scene shows (Y/N) and Truman as toddlers—about 5– at the beach. Their family started to shout at them as they reached the top of the rocky seashore. Kirk and her father- Neil- were yelling at them: “Truman! Truman! (Y/N)! No!” Neil hopped the fence and started racing for them.

“That’s off limits sweetheart.”, of course this peeked both of the young minds.

“Why dad what’s over there?” (Y/N) questioned. Everyone at the beach was staring at them— it was their normal.

“Nothing. It’s dangerous. That’s all.” Kirk chimed in. Kirk started climbing the rocks to get them down. “You’ve got to know your limitations you two.” He picked them both up and brought them down.

Mike: “But let’s remind viewers exactly why dad—Kirk— was written out in the first place.” The scene shows young Truman and (Y/N) staring out into the ocean.

Christof: “As Truman and (Y/N) grew up, we were forced to manufacture ways to keep them on the island.”

The scene shows a pre-teen Truman. “I’d like to be an explorer like the Great Magellan!” Informed the teacher. The teacher pulled down a map.

“Oh you’re too late. There’s really nothing left to explore.”

Christof: “For (Y/N) it was easier to dissuade her from wanting to leave. She didn’t want to be an explorer like Truman— she wanted to be an artists.”

The scene shows pre-teen (Y/N) and Truman at a pier. (Y/N) with her painting supplies and Truman with his binoculars. A dog was snarling and barking at them making them pause and leave.

Christof: “Finally, I came up with Kirk’s drowning.”

Mike: “Most effective.” He praised.

Christof: “Truman— and by association— (Y/N) as well have been terrified of the water ever since.” The scene shows pre-teen Truman and (Y/N) watch Kirk “drown” in front of them. Truman was bawling his eyes out— (Y/N) going numb but holding onto Truman like a lifeline. “When Kirk read the synopsis for the Death at the Sea episode he was disappointed to say the least.” What the kids don’t see is Kirk being rescued by a scuba diver and given oxygen. “I’m sure that’s what caused him to break back on to the set.” The scene returns to Christof and Mike.

Mike: “But how do you intend to explain his 22-year absence?”

Christof: “Amnesia.” Mike scoffs slightly.

Mike: “Brilliant. Let’s take some viewer phone calls: Charlotte, North Carolina, you’re on with Christof.”

Caller: “Uh, yeah, hi, Christof. I was wondering how many cameras you got in that town?”

Christof: “Somewhere in the vicinity of 5,000.”

Caller: “Woah, that’s a lot of cameras.” The scene zooms in on Christof’s face.

Christof: “Remember, we started with just two.” The image shows two ultrasound cameras— one of Truman and the other (Y/N). “They were curious from birth. Truman was premature by two weeks— (Y/N) was late by a week— Truman acted as if he couldn’t wait to get started.”

Mike: “and of course his eagerness to leave his mother’s womb was the very reason why he was one of the multiple baby boys chosen.”

Christof: “Yes, in competition with five other unwanted pregnancies. The casting of a show determined by an air date. Truman was the baby boy who arrived on cue.”

Mike: “(Y/N) of course was late, as she is in life.” Christof slightly chuckes.

Christof: “Ah yes, as for (Y/N) we didn’t want to add her until a year later once we knew that the general public would take well to seeing a show like this.”

Mike: “and incidentally, I believe both were the very first babies ever to be adopted by a corporation?”

Christof: “That’s correct.”

Mike: “The show, uh, has generated enormous revenues now equivalent to the gross national product of a small country.”

Christof: “People forget it takes the population of an entire country to keep the show running.”

Mike: “mhmm. Since the show on 24- hours a day without commercial interruption, uh- all those staggering revenues are generated by product placement or (Y/N)’s paintings.”

Christof: “That’s partially true. (Y/N) generates her own income. When she sells a painting she keeps that money, not the studio. However, everything on the show is for sale. From the actor’s wardrobe, food products, to the very homes they live in.”

Mike: “Uh and all of it available in the Truman and (Y/N) catalog. Operators are standing by. Christof, let me ask you: why do you think Truman and (Y/N) have never come close to discovering the true nature of their world until now?”

Christof: “We accept the reality of the world with which we are presented. It’s as simple as that”

Mike: “The Hague for Christof. Hello? The Hague?” There’s static and The Hague hangs up. “All right, we’ve lost that call. Let’s go to Hollywood, California. You’re on Tru-(Y/N) Talk.”

Caller: “Hi, Christof. I’d just like to say one thing: you’re a liar and a manipulator and what you’ve done to them is sick!”

Christof: “Well, we remember this voice, don’t we? How could we forget?” The scene shows that the caller is actually Sylvia.

Mike: “uh let’s go to another call.” Christof interrupts him, “No, no no. It’s fine Mike. I love to reminisce with former members of the cast. Sylvia…as you announced so melodramatically to the world you think because you persuaded (Y/N) to find Truman once— that you know what’s right for her? For him? You really think you’re in a position to judge them?”

Sylvia: “what right do you have to take a baby— two babies— a-a-and to turn their lives into some sort of mockery? Don’t you ever feel guilty?” Christof shakes his head.

Christof: “I have given them a chance to live normal lives. The world… the place you live in is the sick place. Seahaven’s the way the world should be.”

Sylvia: “They're not performers. Their prisoners. Look at them! Look at what you’ve done to them!”

Christof: “They can leave at any time. If his was more than just a vague ambition. If he— and she— were absolutely determined to discover the truth there’s no way we could prevent them. I think what distresses you really, caller, is that ultimately they prefer— as you call it— their cell. Mostly (Y/N) prefers it.”

Sylvia: “That’s where your wrong. You’re so wrong! She’ll prove you wrong.” Sylvia hangs up the call.

Mike: “Well, aside from the heated comments of a very vocal minority it’s been an overwhelmingly positive experience.”

Christof: “Yes. For Truman’s and (Y/N) and for the viewing of the public.”

Mike: “Well, Christof, I can’t thank you enough for giving so generously of your time tonight. I think it’s safe to say now that this crisis is behind us and that Truman and (Y/N) are back to their old selves. We can look forward to some exciting new developments?”

Christof: “Well, Mike, the big news is that Sam— (Y/N)’s mom, will be leaving Neil. A possible new love interest for Neil may be introduced. (Y/N) as an adult will have to navigate what it’s like to be a step-daughter as an adult.” The scene shows Sylvia staring at the little video picture in the top right corner. Showing (Y/N) and Truman eating cereal. She gently touches the picture of the two of them.

Christof: “I am also determined that the first ever live on television, conception will take place. Whether that be (Y/N)’s doctors having to fib a little about her needing to get off birth control o-or setting the mood who knows.” Mike chuckles.

Mike: “Well, another television milestone straight ahead. You heard it here first. It has been a singular honor and pleasure, sir. Christof, thank you.”

Christof: “Thank you, Mike.”

The scene shows an audience memeber has fallen asleep in their tub.

Then it shows both Truman and (Y/N) cuddled together sleeping. A large screen is showing this into the studio of Christof’s. Christof gently touches the screen. As if he was patting their heads to say goodnight.

[vintageshanny]

Officer Presley and the Librarian - Part 7 - Pool Party of Two

Writing Prompt: Summer theme

Content: Smut, fluff (You might actually need to see a dentist after reading this due to the sweetness quotient. I guess this is just what my heart and brain needed to express right now). 18+

You glanced up over the edge of your book when you felt the water droplets hitting your leg. You had been lounging by the pool reading a book while Elvis cooled off in the water. Now he was standing over you with a little pouty look on his face. “I thought you were gonna come in with me, baby,” he said. “I am, I just finished my chapter. Let’s go in.” You set your book down and smiled up at him as the water from his hair and T-shirt dripped down onto your red one-piece swimsuit. “Hold on, I’m thirsty,” he said, reaching for his bottle of Pepsi on the little table next to your lounge chair. “That’s okay, take your time. I have a nice view right now,” you teased as you eyed his crotch that was at your eye level. You could see the entire outline of all he had to offer. “You know, those wet swim shorts cling to you real nice. I’ve heard a lot of men shrink in the cold water, but I see you don’t have that problem.” You giggled as Elvis’ face turned red and he turned to pull his chair closer to yours. “Mmm you look good from the back too,” you said, reaching out to give his perfect round butt a gentle pat. “Hush, woman,” he said with an embarrassed chuckle as he swatted your hand away and sat down next to you.

“You look pretty good yourself, y’know,” Elvis smirked as he eyed you up and down, leaning his head back against the chair. “I love seein’ ya look so happy.” It had been two weeks since you and Elvis had confessed your love for each other, and you’d been on an emotional high since then. You’d essentially been living at Graceland, leaving only to go to work at the library, and you could tell that if Elvis had his way, you wouldn’t be leaving for that either. He didn’t put up too much of a fight yet, but you knew it was coming. For now, though, you were just trying to enjoy the bliss of those first stages of love.

“Well, being with you makes me so happy, baby. Especially when you come out of the water shoving this in my face,” you leaned over and ran your fingertips gently over the outline of his cock, making him shiver. “There’s my handsy girl,” he said with a wink. “I see you’ve got one thing on your mind today. Do ya need daddy ta take care of ya?” he whispered. You glanced over your shoulder at where some of the guys were playing football in the grass, but no one seemed to be paying attention to the two of you. “Out here? Anyone could look over,” you said with a blush. “So you’re jus’ gonna touch Little Elvis, get ‘im all riled up, and that’s it? That don’t sound fair, do it?” he said, his hand reaching over to trace over your stomach and down your hip. “Do you want to go inside?” you asked, starting to feel very hot and bothered. “Nah, ya promised me that ya’d swim with me.” Elvis stood and grabbed your hand, pulling you up and toward the pool.

“What are we going to do in the pool?” you asked as you followed him down the steps into the water. “Whatever we want, baby. If no one wants to see it, they shouldn’t come over here when I’m spendin’ quality time with my sexy librarian.” At that he lunged at you and you squealed as he pressed you up against the side of the pool. Goosebumps were rising all over your body, and you weren’t sure if it was from the cool water or the feel of his open lips pressing against your neck. “Mmm,” you moaned a little too loudly. Charlie turned from where they were playing and called out, “What’s goin’ on over there? Everything okay?” Elvis turned from you just long enough to say, “Don’ worry ‘bout it. Jus’ mind your business.” Charlie shrugged and turned back to the game.

“Ya need to be a little quieter baby, if ya don’ want an audience,” Elvis teased as he resumed his open-mouthed kisses down your neck and toward your chest. “Will you do me a favor, Elvis?” you asked softly as his hands roamed over your curves, squeezing your breasts gently. “I’ll do all kinds of favors for ya, baby,” he murmured into your skin. “Will you take this T-shirt off?” You could feel Elvis stop in his tracks and tense up a little bit. You knew he felt a little self-conscious to have no shirt on where other people could see him, but you wanted him to feel like he could be completely at ease with you. “I-I-I don’ know, baby, I, um, it-it,” he stumbled trying to find an explanation that wouldn’t require him to admit how insecure he felt without it. He knew some of his friends had gained weight over the years too, and they felt no need to hide, but their bodies weren’t being constantly scrutinized.

“Please, daddy, for me,” you cooed in his ear as you traced over the area where his wet shirt clung to his nipples. “You know how I like to feel your skin pressed up against me. And that trail of hair…it drives me wild,” you whispered. Elvis blushed a little bit and relaxed his grip on you. “O-o-okay, baby, only for you. You helped him peel the wet shirt off, and he set it next to the pool. “Oh, that’s more like it,” you breathed out as you ran your fingers through his wet chest hair and down over his soft belly. Elvis’ mouth turned up in his trademark crooked grin and he stared at you with a funny look in his eyes. “What is it? Are you okay?” you asked, worried maybe you had pushed him too much. Elvis pressed his body close to yours and cradled the back of your head with his large hand. “I-I-I’m better than okay, baby. I jus’ never thought I’d find someone who could love and accept every part of me. B-B-but here you are.” “Each little piece of you makes up the beautiful man that you are. So I can’t help but love every part,” you said softly as you leaned your head down and kissed the smooth skin of his shoulder. As your lips moved up to meet his, you could feel Little Elvis responding in the best way.

“Is anyone watching us, baby?” Elvis asked as he pulled back from your lips. You looked over his shoulder and shook your head. “No, they moved further away.” “That’s good, they musta got the hint.” He smiled and moved his hand down your side until he was gripping your thigh, his thumb rubbing over the elastic band of your swimsuit. “These little strands of hair creepin’ out are jus’ drivin’ me crazy, honey, I need ta see more.” He pulled the elastic to the side exposing your entire pubic area. As he looked down into the water at you, Little Elvis started poking at you more insistently. “I need to see more of you too, daddy,” you whispered as you pulled at the waistband of his swim shorts. You reached your hand down inside of them and found what you were looking for. Elvis let out a soft groan as you started pumping him in your hand. At the same time, he used one of his knees to spread your legs open a little bit and stuck one long finger inside of you.

Your body let out a shudder as he added a second finger and rubbed his thumb against your clit. You tried to focus on pumping his cock, but your whole body seemed to be responding to his touch. “Oh, baby, seein’ ya like this, I’m almost ready ta finish. Let me get inside of ya, honey,” he said as he looked into your blissful face. You nodded, unable to think straight from the pleasure of his fingers. He pulled his shorts down in the front just enough to pull out his cock and tried to pull your swimsuit even further to the side. The fabric could not withstand this strong tug, and the entire crotch of your suit ripped open, leaving your bottom half fully exposed. “Oh goddamn that’s a beautiful sight,” Elvis groaned when he looked down at you. Your pussy was just throbbing with need for him, and he wasted no time in thrusting into you. It was fortunate the guys had moved their game further away, because the two of you were failing in your attempts to keep things quiet. Elvis finished with a grunt and leaned over you, holding onto the side of the pool.

“Did I take care of ya, baby?” he asked nervously. Usually he could feel you shaking and calling out his name, but the position was a little more awkward in the pool. You bit your lip, not sure what to say. You didn’t want to lie, but you also didn’t want him to feel bad about it. “I always feel good when we’re together, Elvis. I always feel taken care of,” you said, scratching one of his sideburns gently. He leaned into your touch, closed his eyes, and sighed a little bit. “But ya didn’t quite get there, did ya? I’m sorry, let me help ya finish,” he said, pulling out of you slowly and reaching his hand back down. “No, Elvis, it’s not you, I think I’m just too nervous that someone’s going to walk back over here. I couldn’t fully let go.” “I’ll make it up to ya inside then,” he insisted. “With your tongue?” you said with a wink. Elvis laughed at that. “Whatever my baby wants,” he said, sticking his tongue out and licking your cheek, making you squeal.

“Um, how am I supposed to get out of the pool with my suit wrecked?” you asked with a nervous laugh. “Hmm I guess I did really use some force tryin’ ta get at ya,” Elvis chuckled. “You should wear a bikini next time for…easier access.” You blushed at the thought of that but kept your insecurities to yourself. “You stay here, and I’ll get your towel,” Elvis announced. He climbed out of the pool while you tried to keep your hands over yourself in case anyone walked over. “Okay, baby, I got ya,” Elvis said, shielding you with a towel as you climbed the stairs. Right after he wrapped it around you, the guys started heading toward the pool. “Whew…just in time,” Elvis joked.

“Hey, we were just coming to join you. It’s getting too hot out here,” Charlie announced. “Sorry fellas, we’re done for now.” “Aw, c’mon, you can stay a little long-” Charlie was cut off by an elbow to the ribs. Joe motioned with his head to where a little scrap of red swimsuit fabric was floating in the pool. Your face turned scarlet when you realized everyone knew what had just happened. “Hey, where’s your shirt?” Charlie asked Elvis, changing the subject. You nervously glanced at Elvis, hoping he wasn’t embarrassed. His face flushed a little bit, but he just grabbed his sopping wet shirt and said, “Well boys, when the most beautiful girl in the world wants ta get busy in the pool, ya jus’ do what she asks.” He gave a little wink as you buried your head in his chest, too embarrassed to look anyone in the face. “C’mon, baby, let’s go and I’ll make it up to ya.” The guys looked a little confused as you and Elvis walked toward the house giggling like teenagers in love.

Thank you to my beautiful sister wives @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love. You all inspire me every day and I love you! ❤️

Thank you to everyone who has expressed continued interest in this series and in my writing! I appreciate you all so much! ❤️

Tag list: @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @doll-elvis @elvispresleygf @artlover8992 @richardslady121 @lookingforrainbows

[icyfox17]

Okay here's the first irondad snipp I ever wrote (there is def some Tommy vibes since that was all I'd written before this BUT they are like the same person anyway so--)

"I think you should really reconsider your choices of joining a gang, and think of maybe joining a bathing club or something. Those exist right?"

The man doesn't even acknowledge Peter's attempt at a joke, instead swinging at him with another punch, that Peter easily dodges. His gun had been taken by Peter awhile ago, and his stamina was quite frankly depressing. He was panting hard, which meant Peter had to breathe in the stench of his breath, on top of the terrible body odor.

"Ugh, scratch that. You do know what a toothbrush is right? More than 80% of dentists reccomend Colgate. Maybe try that brand."

"I'm gonna," the man heaves, hands on his knees as he catches his breath, and okay this is getting a little sad, "rip your tongue out and feed it to my dog, so I can never hear you talk again."

"Yikesss, that's not nice for your dog. What kinda dog wants to eat human tongue?? Feels bad for your dog."

This time the man opts to scream as a response and charges Peter, who is honestly done with this at this point, so instead of dodging, he shoots him with his web and wraps the man up in it like a cocoon. He also takes care to web up his mouth because man, no one deserves to smell that breath.

Peter looks to the sky, and much to his dismay, it is still day. There isn't even the beginnings of orange tinging the sky to signify sunset, and man today is going to be a long day.

He guesses he could go and try to see what Ned is up to, but Peter's pretty sure he's working on a really important project, and he doesn't want to bother him with it.

Peter sighs heavily. "Karen, I don't know what to do."

The ai responds to him rather quite promptly, "You could always head back to the tower. I'm sure Mr. Stark would pause whatever he was doing to see you, if you wanted him to."

And yeah. That's what Peter normally does, when he's having a slow day. Today though, he's trying to avoid it, considering the fact that he shouldn't be patrolling at all, and he's sure that Mr. Stark would be onto him the minute he saw him. Peter isn't sure how he always seems to know. One time he even took a shower before going to see him, and he still knew. It was probably Karen's fault, though he made her swear not to tell him.

"I know Karen. It's just..." He trails off with a sigh, shooting a web and pulling himself up. He starts to swing through the city aimlessly, still unsure of where to go, but wanting to move away from the crime.

"I'm sure Mr. Stark would be happier to see you than not, even if you have done something against his wishes."

Peter cringes. "You didn't have to phrase it like that Karen."

"How else would I phrase it?"

"I dunno, just not that."

There's silence for a bit as Peter fights with himself. On the one hand, he really does want to see Mr. Stark. He hasn't seen him since right after the accident, and he quite frankly misses hanging out with him. On the other hand, he really does not want to hear a lecture about how he shouldn't be patrolling so soon after his injury.

Ring Ring Ring

Incoming Call From: Tony Stark

Uh oh.

Guess he doesn't have a say in the matter anyway.

"Uh, hi Mr. Stark!" answers Peter as cheerfully as he can, trying to find a decent roof to land on.

"Hey Pete, I was wondering if you--" Mr. Stark cuts himself off. "Is that wind I hear?"

"Uh yeah, it's just super windy where I am right now," Peter says, chuckling nervously. "It's honestly crazy how windy it is. There are definitely going to be some fallen trees tomorrow."

Mr. Stark is silent for a moment before, "You wouldn't... happen to be patrolling right now, would you?"

"Whaaaaat? Noooo," Peter winces as he hears a car blast it's horn, "that would be entirely irresponsible of me. I would never."

"You know I can look at your suit's cameras and see what you're seeing right now, right?"

"Obviously, but you're not because you trust me full heartedly and--"

"Peter."

Peter sighs. "Okay, so maybe I went on a five minute patrol. But it's super dead today! I was literally about to head to your place because of how bored I was. You can ask Karen!"

"That doesn't matter Pete. What matters is you just came out of a serious fight with several injuries. You shouldn't be throwing yourself back out there!"

"I know Mr. Stark."

"We agreed on two weeks. Two weeks! You know most people would need a whole month, but Pepper and Happy reminded me about your enhanced healing, and I said fine. Fine! Two weeks. And how long has it been?"

"...A week."

"A week! You know, I was going to call you and ask if you wanted to go to Ben and Jerry's with me, but now--"

"No, Mr. Stark please! I won't go again for the next week, I promise."

"And how good was your promise this time?"

"I double promise. Triple promise! C'mon Mr. Stark, please? I really wanted to see you today."

"Kid, you can still come over," he says, sounding a bit appalled at the idea that Peter couldn't. "You can always come over. You know that by now."

"...but can we get ice-cream?"

Peter tries his best to give puppy eyes, even though he's unsure if Mr. Stark could even see him.

He hears Mr. Stark mumble some vague curses before, "Alright fine. But if you do this again, I swear to God--"

"I won't, I won't!"

"Okay, now get your butt over here."

Peter giggles a bit. "Okay. Bye Mr. Stark!"

"Bye kid."

There's a beep to signal the call ending, and Peter makes sure to swing by his backpack on the way to the tower.

All the while, Karen is strangely quiet but Peter has a sense she's feeling downright smug.

Peter ignores it though, in favour of focusing on his excitement for ice-cream.

[remembertheplunge]

So ": x-zile-ish"

Saturday 7/2/2016. 7:01pm

I’m at Face’s by the pool.

I left orange roses at the Orlando (Pulse Night Club)  memorial out front.

The gates at Fair Oaks cemetery were closed. I think the  boys wish to donate (the roses) to the Orlando 49 (49 shot to death at Pulse Gay Bar on 6/12/2016.)

"Sweet Dreams are made of this..” Plays inside (Face’s Bar)

I’m writing by a pool at a gay bar.

 So “x-zile-ish”.

Yet another outsider practice. Practice dropping out of your life.

Was going to see “Lobster” again, but, something made me bring the Fair Oaks Roses to the K Street (Faces) memorial.

The new death by bullet spray. The old , by illness (Aids)

Writing, I am “sexually suspect”

Not drinking, doubly so!

End of entry

Notes 6/15/2024

The above entry was written the day that I visited the Pulse Night Club memorial at Face’s Bar in Sacramento mentioned in my first  posting today.

Face’s is a huge 2 story building  on K Street in Sacramento . It has a small swimming pool in the back of the building. It also contains multiple dance floors and bars.

I was sitting at a table by the pool writing the above entry. I haven’t drank alcohol since 2011, so I was not drinking that day as I wrote the entry.

 If you write in a bar, even if you drink alcohol, you are considered odd. Anti social. My term for this  was Sexually Suspect.

Prior to going to the Face’s Bar, I had tried to visit the grave of my first Aid’s match, Daryl Specter, at the Fair Oaks Cemetery . He died in 1987. I also would visit the graves of the Gay Dentist  and his lover across the small cemetery road from Daryl’s grave. I didn’t know them in life. But, I’ve adopted them . Their head stone reads “give me patience and I want it now”!

But, when I got to Fair Oak’s Cemetery, the gate was closed. I brought roses for the boys in the cemetery, but , since I couldn’t get in to see them, I left their flowers at the Faces memorial. 

 I assumed that the Dentist and his lover died of Aids, as did Daryl. 

Thus, my line in the journal entry “The new death by bullet spray (Pulse Night Club) 

The old by illness (Aids)

I matched with men with aids on a volunteer basis in the 80’s and 90’s through Aids support organizations. We would help the men through their illness and death.

Sweet Dreams (are made of this) by the Eurythmics, Annie Lennox (1983)

The Lobster (2015) movie)

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

game over

One year after the worst end, Kel and Aubrey confront their regrets. (Spoilers for abandon end/knife end.)

Kel used to fall asleep so easily. But that hasn’t been true in a long time. 

After lying awake for a lifetime, he can feel a familiar weight settle onto the edge of his bed. He stretches an arm out invitingly. The knot in his stomach loosens a little as Sunny slides in beside him. 

Kel keeps his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to see the bloody mess of Sunny’s chest. He just wraps his arm around Sunny’s clammy shoulder and pulls him in closer. When he starts twisting his fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck, Sunny lets out a contented little hum, like he used to when they were kids. 

Everyone always spoiled Sunny. Patting his head, scratching his back. Wrapping him up in your favorite sweater after he forgot his. It probably wasn’t good for him, but it just felt so nice. Probably ‘cause everything about Sunny was so painfully honest. His emotions, especially. Sunny couldn't fake a reaction if he tried. When he smiled, it was true to the bone. Like looking directly at the sun. 

Kel can feel cold fingers tracing the line of his collar.

“I wouldn't have touched you like this,” Sunny reminds him.

“I know.” 

“Or I already would have.”

“Yeah.”

“I liked when you touched me, though. I really liked being touched.”

Kel huffs a laugh. “Pfft. Yeah. You were always kind of a brat.” 

He still doesn’t look, but he can hear the scowl in Sunny’s voice. “It's not nice to speak ill of the dead.”

“Hah. Yeah. I always thought that was kinda dumb, though. I mean... It’s not like they’re gonna mind. Isn’t it meaner to shit-talk someone who might actually hear you?”

“Point,” Sunny concedes, pushing up on one elbow. 

Kel can’t resist. He opens his eyes in time to see Sunny grin, just the briefest flash of teeth. Sunny’s eyes are empty holes.

###

Eventually, Kel falls asleep.

It’s one of those weird dreams, where Sunny is a little kid for some reason. But at least this one isn’t full of bloody holes.

“Sunny!!” Kel greets him, beaming.

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Haha, yeah, right! What was it again? I don’t really remember this game…” 

Baby Sunny rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Why are you here?"

“Huh? Pff… What, am I not on the guest list? Did you have plans today or something?”

“No. But this place isn’t for you. It’s— I think it might be. Bad. For… people like you.” His face hardens. “I think it was bad for Sunny.” 

“But I like it here!!! It’s kind of… I dunno. I can’t explain it. But for some reason, it… sort of feels like Sunny? Does that make sense?”

“No,” Baby Sunny says flatly. But there’s a familiar glint in his eye. Sunny used to look like that when he was laughing at you, not with you. “All the more reason to stay away. Sunny gave up. He lost. You shouldn’t be moping around after some dead kid you only saw for three days out of the last five years.”

“Haha. Y-Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“So you’ll stop coming?”

“Nnn….no?” Kel thinks about it. “No, I’ll probably keep coming. Sorry.”

“Ugh. You people are all the same. But, fine. If you’re going to be like that, I’ll try to find his stupid ghost.”

“Wh– Huh?? But—isn’t that what you’re supposed to be?”

Baby Sunny gives him a scathing look. “Why would Sunny’s ghost be twelve?”

“….Because it’s a dream? Or it’s… when my fondest memories are from, or something?”

“Oh, right, because it’s all about you,” rolling his eyes. “Be right back.”

Huh. This is… sort of a weird dream, actually. When you stop to think about it. 

Kel is vaguely aware that dreams are supposed to mean a bunch of different things. Like, if you  dream about your teeth falling out, it means you’re losing control of your life, or… need to find a new dentist, or whatever. And if you dream about finding a big pot of leprechaun gold, maybe you’re about to find a big pot of leprechaun gold? 

So maybe he should, like, talk to someone. A fortune-teller, or a therapist or something. He could at least look it up online. What does it mean if you dream a bunch of weird alter-egos of your dead best friend? Though it might not take a fortune teller to figure that one out. You’re grieving, idiot. You’re all hung up on someone who you’ll never see again, so your stupid lizard brain is filling in the space.

Then the air around him sort of—stutters, and Sunny is standing in front of him. 

It’s not baby Sunny this time. Not bleeding-from-the-chest Sunny, either. This one looks almost exactly how he did the last time he was alive, except with all the color drained out of him. He’s as white as a sheet of printer paper. 

On the bright side, he also looks a lot less miserable. 

The second Sunny spots Kel, he lights up. Fingers curled, eyes bright and disbelieving. Then he takes a longer look, and his face falls. “…Kel.” 

“S-Sunny?” It comes out as a pathetic little croak. 

Sunny shrinks a little more. “You. Look so sad.”

“Haha.” Kel tries for a smile, but it doesn’t fit. He gives up. It’s not like it matters. Too little too late. “Y-Yeah. Um. I guess.”

“Why?”

Kel winces. How do you tell a guy, Well, buddy, it’s ~mostly~ ‘cause you kinda ruined my life. A little. Or a lot, maybe. How do you say, Those three days I spent with you were the happiest I’d been in four years. I’m probably not as happy as you think, actually. It just seemed that way ‘cause you only saw me when I was with you. “Uh…”

“Oh,” Sunny says quietly. “Sorry.” 

“O-Oh. Huh. Is that, like, dream stuff? You know what I’m thinking ‘cause we’re in my head?”

“What? No. You’re just obvious.” 

Kel stares. Sunny stares back at him.

“...This is weird,” Kel decides. He talks to Sunny a lot, in one way or another. When he’s really tired, sometimes he even gets an answer. But his hallucinations aren’t usually this nice. And none of them have ever sounded so much like… well, Sunny. (How he imagines that Sunny would have sounded, anyway, if Sunny had opened his mouth even once after opening that door. The last time Kel actually heard Sunny’s voice, they were in middle school.) “Why are you… Or. I mean. You sound sort of… different? When I see you, you… don't usually sound like this.”

Sunny’s eyes widen. “You’re. You—see me?”

“Well, yeah.” 

“You don’t mean— Do you mean Omori?”

“Omori,” Kel says, with relief. That’s what it was. “I don’t know why I can never remember that. But, um. No. Not the kid one. The other one.”

“When?”

“At night, mostly? Like, when I can’t sleep and stuff. So, uh. I guess, like, most nights?”

“But that’s not me,” Sunny says urgently. “That’s just something you made up.” His forehead scrunches. “...Is he mean?”

“Uh.” Kel doesn’t know how to answer that. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

Sunny’s mouth tightens. “Well. He— What you’re seeing. You know it’s not me.”

Uhhh… “Well, yeah. ‘Cause you’re… you know.” Dead. “But it’s the same for you, right? It’s just… all the different ways I saw you, or whatever. Memory soup.”

“No.”

“N-No?”

“No. But it’s fine. I just.” Sunny hesitates. “Don’t want you to… hurt yourself. Especially not using me.”

“Haha,” Kel says unhappily. “Well. I, uh. Don’t really need to go out of my way for that, bud.”

Sunny’s head tilts. He doesn’t get it.

“Because. You know.” But Sunny just keeps staring, like he genuinely doesn’t. Kel takes a second to remind himself that Sunny is dead, and can’t get his feelings hurt. “Because, um. You’re the one who hurt me?”

Sunny’s face crumples. Kel can feel it in his marrow, a leaden sort of ache. Sunny couldn’t fake a reaction if he tried. When he cried, it wasn’t ‘cause he wanted something, or was trying to make you feel bad or whatever. It was just because he felt sad. 

...It’s weird. There’s no light in this Sunny, no breath or blood. But he still feels so real. True, in a way that the real Sunny felt. Kel’s stupid waking nightmares never make him feel like this.

Read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46429294/chapters/116900185

[paskariu]

Toyota Yaris Ranking

Because I am definitely not having a Moment about the Yaris I have decided to create a personal ranking from best to worst yaris model. This is just my personal opinion based on my own biases.

For the sake of simplicity, I won't rate the facelifts separately and instead only rank the entire model generation.

1 Yaris P1 1999-2006

The OG. The cuddle bug that graced the world and said "I WILL get you from A to B no matter what you do to me". Change its oil and it's happy.

2 GR Yaris 2020-

The cool little brother. The GR set out to fulfil the question we all wanted to be answered, "What if Yaris but fast as fuck".

Makes the old TR and RS variants sweat, and even people who previously scuffed at the Yaris do a double take.

Kind of looks like it has this dentist push-your-lips-away device on. Angry hamster.

3 Yaris XP9 2005-2011

As a reviewer put it, the second gen is an example of "sophisticated blandness". It's a car. It drives you places. The interior features are good enough for people who just want to have a car.

It takes all of this with a friendly face. Its circular body refined with a few chosen body lines to break up the shape make for a car that got a participation trophy at a sports event.

It's just happy to be included.

Fun fact: I have that model

4 Yaris XP21 2020-

Final evolution (for the time being). Lost some of the no-thoughts-head-empty charm of the older Yari. Manta ray inspired front is somewhat unique in today's angry faced car world. Wants to look like the GR, but not that much.

5 Yaris Verso/FunCargo XP10 1999-2005

What SUVs could have been. Toyota themselves called this an MPV- Multi-Purpose-Vehicle. This micro-van can bring your kid to school and then work on a construction site on the same day.

Get yourself a Yaris that can do it all. Looks like a stretched P1. What it basically is.

6 Yaris Sedan/Vios/Belta XP90 2007-2013

Looks neat. A hatchback-limousine based on the original Yaris, and spiritual successor of the Toyota Echo.

Same charm as the XP9. Looks just happy to be of service. That's a lot of names for one car though. Like the Echo, it's not available in Europe :(

Other generations of the Yaris Belta drop the Yaris part, being sold as "just" Toyota Vios/Belta which is why they're not on this list.

7 Yaris XP13 2010-2020

The awkward middle evolution. The XP21 also has a wild design, but this is just... no. I don't like this. All I see is Steve Harvey's block of a moustache but car.

At least the back looks neat.

-100 Yaris Cross

Why the fuck make a small car an SUV. Kill it with fire. Throw it in a ditch. IDK just make it leave. This is an insult to the original Yaris. I want to buy a ticket to Japan and murder whoever is responsible for this piece of shit.

The Yaris Verso was right there. Why not modernise that and release it. Don't tell me the reason I know why they did this I don't like it though.

Honourable Mention: Daihatsu Charade 2011-2013

Hail Mary by Toyota's struggling daughter in the European market. They called this Charade because it's literally just the XP9F pretending that it's not.