#dodg 98

[racunboy645]

[orcelito]

he makes me literally unwell

LITERALLY unwell

[zoeythebee]

You know, if you were going to smash in my window you could at least take something

[rata-novus]

BABE WAKE UP. SDV 1.6 ON THE SWITCH NOW. BABE!!!!!!

[turtleneckandtee]

Made silly charms out of them, purely inspired by that vash dodging bullets in '98 tv series. I love them sm...

[sunshineastro]

“oh jiang cheng is so angry all the time” have you considered that almost every time we see him he is experiencing a new low point in his life. have you considered that wei wuxian’s perspective isn’t omniscient and we don’t know how he interacts in 98% of his day-to-day interactions. have you considered that at least he’s expressing a feeling instead of covering it with humor or pretending not to have it or dodging around it. have you considered that anger tends to be productive for him. have you considered that to him anger feels like love because that’s the environment he was raised in. have you considered t

[thestuffedalligator]

“Back in ‘98, Tommy Harrington caught a fairy on his trapline and got to have a wish. So Tommy wished for a new Dodge Ram 1500, and that truck was the queen of every mud bog in the county for the next five years.

“Course, by that time folks found out that the truck was alive. We reckon it was really a fey spirit or boggle ensorcelled into a vehicular shape. We didn’t mind it much at first, but then Patty Armstrong got her truck stolen and switched with a changeling.

“So if you go driving on the backroads sometime tonight and see a ‘98 Dodge Ram driving without an owner, that’s Tommy’s truck, and that’s why we hang horseshoes on the rearview. It’s looking for a truck to take back to the faerie, ‘cause Titania saw the fun we were having and she wants in.”

[patscorner]

That Damn Australian

Summary: Your relationship with Georgia isn't public knowledge, but after one big win, you decide time is up.

wc: 1,271

Contains: a singular kiss

______________________________

“Can you come to this one game, pleeeeeeaaaasssseeee?” your girlfriend whined for the umpteenth time. You and Georgia had been dating for almost two years, away from the media. You knew what type of backlash she could get, and you didn't want to add more to her plate than necessary.

She saw no issue with it, and as much as she wanted to tell the world that you were hers, she respected your boundaries and never posted you.

Over the past two years, she'd ask for your permission before she posted something even slightly attention-grabbing. You always said yes, and at this point the fans were becoming suspicious. What you knew would seal the deal is if you went to one of her games. You'd been, of course, but never in the stands, away from the cameras and anyone who might recognize you.

Georgia always asked for you to come to the games and be courtside, but you always refused and she never pushed you. She never made you feel pressured, but the longer you guys dated, the more in love you fell and the more you wanted to be present, regardless of who was there.

“Baby, you know I want to, but-”

“But you don't want to draw attention, yeah, yeah. I just wish you could be there.” She says, snuggling into your chest further as you lay in bed, legs interlocked.

“I know. Me too.” You whisper, rubbing shapes on her back. She tried to hide her disappointment, but you could always tell.

And you weren't gonna let it last for long.

Georgia walks out of your bedroom, while you sit on the couch, cuddled up under the blankets. She's got sweats and a Virginia tech hoodie on. She grabs her keys before making her way over to you. “Love you.” She mutters, not hiding her disappointment.

“Hey, wait, c’mere.” You say, pushing the blanket off your lap, standing up. Georgia turns around, and makes her way towards you.

You knew she really wanted you to go, she always did, but for some reason, this time it hurt more than usual. And if you asked her, she would have said it was just another big game, but that would be a lie.

“I'll make it up to you, okay? I'm sorry.” You say, pulling away. She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. “It's okay, baby.”

You kiss her gently, before letting her go, smacking her ass as she turns around to leave. “Go get 'em for me.”

As soon as you heard her car pull off, you sprung from the couch and rushed to put your plan in action.

The ball soars through the air, as the audience silences. Game is tied 95-95, and your girlfriend just made the final shot from half court. The crowd roars as the final buzzer goes off, signaling a win for the Virginia Tech Hokies, the score 98 to 95. They just beat Marshall Thundering Herd in the NCAA Tournament.

The team celebrates mid court, surrounding Georgia. You can't help but smile, your heart filled with profound excitement for your girlfriend and her teammates. You know how hard they all worked to get to where they are, spending long hours practicing and perfecting plays.

Now, normally, you'd be in the front, courtside, so you could see the action first hand, but in order for this to work, you had to blend in. It was easy to dodge the cameras, mostly directing their attention to the game. It was the people, the people who've seen you two walking around campus, and the ones who stared at you two too long.

But that falls to the back of your mind as you see your girlfriend smiling brightly. Her teammates are in one group, but she stays behind. You observe as a flash of something in her face, the same look she had when she left the dorm.

After observing her for a bit, you decide you can't take the heartbreak anymore. You get up from the stands and make your way onto the floor. Her teammates recognize you immediately, but they don't say anything, as you slowly walk over to Georgia.

Her eyes dance around the players, not searching for anyone in particular, when they pause to lock onto yours for a moment, but continue skimming the room.

That's when realization hits Geargia, and she does a quick double take with a gasp. She lets out a squeal as she sprints over to you, almost tackling you into a bear hug.

You laugh as her arms wrap tightly around your waist, as your cross around the back of her neck. She sways you back and forth, for a split second, before lifting you up by the back of your thighs, to which you lift your legs to clasp around her hips. She's holding you longer than the two of you ever have on camera. You catch a glimpse of her teammates smiling at you both in adoration.

“Hi, baby.” You whisper to her, not hiding your mouth from the cameras, like you would typically do.

She pulls away, eyes glossy as she sniffles. You laugh lightly, wiping your own tears you didn't know were pooling. “Stop crying, you big baby.” You mutter to her.

Georgia lets out half laugh-half sob. “You first.” she looks up at you, the spark she was missing seemingly lit again. “How-Why are you here right now?”

“You really think I'd miss your big day?” You say teasingly. Her eyebrows raise, but she shakes her head. She doesn't say anything as her eyes trail down to your lips. “I really want to kiss you right now.” She whispers.

You look around, seeing cameras on you both, and instead of feeling nervous, like you usually would, you're excited. You want this. It's time.

“So do it.” You reply.

“Are you sure? I know how much you didn't want to be on film-” She says, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Yes, I'm sure.” You smile. “But baby, there's cameras every-” She reasons.

“Georgia.”

“Right.” She leans in, and your hands come around so you can cup her face. Her lips meet yours with invaluable enthusiasm, a representation of your undying support and devotion to each other.

You almost get lost in the kiss, your lips igniting a burning flame of your love, but you're brought back to reality by the claps and cheers of her teammates.

You smile, pulling away and meeting the shining eyes of your girlfriend. “I love you so fucking much.” she whispers as she places you down.

“You better, I'm missing the Bachelorette for this.” You frown playfully.

She throws her head back in laughter, and you can't help but stare at her in amazement. That damn laugh. The only sound that you could listen to forever.

“No, seriously, I want to see who she gives the rose to. Can we speed this up?” She rolls her eyes at your antics, but her face falls serious.

“I'm serious, thank you so much for being here.” Your heart flutters at her tone. “Of course. I know how much you wanted me to come to one, and even though I was scared as fuck, I got over it.” You smile.

“Because, nothing means more to me than you.”

She blushes, her eyes filling with tears. “Fuck.” She laughs.

You smile, which seems to be the only thing you can do when you're around her.

Because whether it's out of your comfort zone, there's nothing you wouldn't do for that damn Australian.

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris-deactivated20240 @cosmopretty @hellokittyfeenie

[hawnks]

The way he jumps into conflict in the goofiest way possible to completely prevent anyone else from entering the fray 😭😭

Oh. Vash starts being fond of Meryl from episode one…..

[racunboy645]

[peachy-posy]

Counting Steps (Vash the Stampede x Reader)

Summary: While traveling with Vash, you get a wound and decide to hide it from him.

A/N: Howdy! This is my first Trigun fic, please be nice hehe. This was originally written with Tri Stamp Vash in mind, but then it turned into me mixing him with 98 Vash, and so now we have this.

I'm considering making a little series about the reader and Vash because I am so whipped for this silly blonde man, the brain rot is insane. If that's something you'd be interested in lmk!

I hope you guys like it <3 ALSO this was cross-posted to my AO3

Warnings: Mild violence, mild blood/injury, fainting

Word Count: 2.5k

This was inspired by this quote from @creativepromptsforwriting: “When were you going to tell me you were bleeding? When you’re already dead?!”

98. 99. That’s another 100 steps. Start over.

You grit your teeth, clutching your side fiercely. Luckily, you are wearing black, so Vash hadn’t seen the sticky, dark stain appear. Your faithful traveling companion walks several paces ahead of you, leading the two of you to a nearby settlement. You couldn’t be that far away now, right? God, you hope not. 

You lose your footing, stumbling briefly before catching yourself. White hot pain shoots through your abdomen, and you can’t stop the hiss that slides out between your teeth. Fortunately, Vash doesn’t seem to be able to hear it over the sounds of the wind. A bead of sweat rolls down your face, and you pause, allowing yourself to pant for a moment. Not for long, though. You have to keep moving.

Counting your steps in increments of 100 has been your method of keeping yourself focused. It was a simple task, something to devote all of yourself to for the time being. If you could keep going, one step at a time, you knew you could make it to the town. 

17. 18. 19. That’s another 20.

Your mind wanders to the very situation that caused you to get an injury in the first place. What a mess today has been. 

You have been traveling with the infamous Vash the Stampede for months at this point. Shootouts and run-ins with bandits and bounty hunters made for another Tuesday. Usually, that was no problem for you guys. You knew your way around a gun and could certainly hold your own, so what the fuck happened today?

30. 31. 32.

The two of you had stopped at a small plant you’d come across while traveling in the desert, thinking it was a good chance to take a breather. Little did you know, you were walking right into a stick-up, with a small group of bandits robbing a family that had stopped there as well. You and Vash stepped in quickly to help, easily incapacitating the bandits. Vash’s attention readily became focused on helping out the family, noticing that the oldest child had gotten a gash on the head.

Allowing Vash to handle the damage control inside, you had stepped back outside to catch your breath. You walked over to the side of the building, leaning against it and resting in the shadow it produced. Out of the corner of your eye, though, you saw movement. Apparently, there was another person involved that had slipped away. You sprung into action, running around the building to where you’d seen the figure disappear. After that, everything happened really fast.

The man was quick, and he lunged at you with startling speed. You were able to dodge the initial thrust of his knife towards your gut, but you didn’t sidestep fast enough, feeling the blade tear a gash into your side. The adrenaline in your system helped you to ignore the pain, and you whipped around, kicking the knife out of his hand and twisting his arm behind his back. Before he knew it, you had him pinned on the ground, arms pulled uncomfortably behind his back. Drawing your small revolver from its holster, you swiftly hit the back of his head with the grip, feeling his body go limp under you. 

After he passed out, the tension left your body and you leaned back with a sigh. It was at this point that you started to feel the sharp, stinging pain radiating from your side. Glancing down with a wince, you moved your jacket aside, laying your eyes on the gash that had been so generously given to you by your friend here. Because you wore your jacket open, it looked like it had blown out of the way and been spared by the blade. So, at the very least, you wouldn’t be spending the evening sewing the jacket up. Your body was a different story, unfortunately.

It was a small, but deep, clean cut. It wasn’t anything worse than what you’ve had before. But, it would definitely need some stitches. You were almost positive you could patch this up with the first aid kit inside. 

You released your jacket, heaving yourself off the ground with some effort, applying pressure to the wound. Once on your feet, you made your way back around front, finding the entrance to the small building. 

Vash was crouched, chatting to the teary-eyed children, calming them down with a practiced ease that came from many years of experience around kids. He smiled at them, and said something that drew a giggle from the children. Their parents watched from nearby with grateful smiles, eventually pulling him into a conversation with them as well. A soft smile formed on your lips, as it often did when you saw him have these types of interactions. 

Your pain brought you back down to reality though, and you grimaced. Your eyes scanned the room for the first aid kit, and you found it lying on a small table. You quietly walked over, and immediately grabbed some gauze to hold against the wound. You sifted through the contents, searching for the thread, knowing you definitely had some. It wasn’t until you remembered that one of the kids had gotten a cut to the head that you turned around, seeing the last of your thread stitched up in a wound already. Vash might be holding onto some more, but even if he were, it likely wouldn’t be enough. 

Well. Shit.

You faced away from everyone again, trying to think of what to do. You were less than half a day’s walk from the next town. You didn’t have any supplies other than some gauze that would help. Telling Vash would worry him, and he’d definitely want to carry you the rest of the way, even though you knew his prosthetic had been causing him soreness recently. 

You were just gonna have to suck it up and walk. You stuffed gauze into your pockets as discreetly as you could, before hearing your name called from behind you softly. You turned your head to the side, heart skipping a beat at seeing those gorgeous blue eyes gazing at you.

“Everything okay?” he asked quietly, concern creasing his brow. You wanted to reach out and smooth your fingers over it, not wanting him to worry about anything. 

Instead, you gave him a convincing smile. “Yeah. I found another guy outside. We should probably tie him up with the others before leaving.” The person running the plant assured you both that they would be fine while they waited for authorities to arrive to take the men away. You made sure your body was angled to where he couldn’t see your bloody hand or the gauze. 

He raised his eyebrows, surprised to have missed one, but ultimately nodded, letting you know he’d take care of it. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mayfly. I’m getting sloppy!” he joked, and you’d giggled in reply, heart fluttering every time he called that. It was just friendly, of course. Because that’s all you were - friends.

That’s another 60 steps. Or was it 70?

You jam your eyes shut, breathing through the worsening pain. You sigh defeatedly. You ran out of gauze an hour ago. The bleeding has slowed, but not fully stopped. Not with all of the pulling from walking. At least the sun is starting to go down, giving you a break from this damned heat. 

You look up, seeing Vash’s back ahead, his red coat blowing gently in the wind. The distance is getting greater between the two of you. You’re starting to regret not filling him in about your situation. After noticing your silence not long into the walk, he’d asked once more if everything was all right. You smiled, told him you were fine, and that you’d tell him later tonight. He accepted that begrudgingly, giving you a Look, but had ultimately given you space.

You stop walking, your breathing uneven and heavy. Your vision wasn’t quite right either… had you really lost that much blood? The chill settling into your bones screams ‘yes’ at you. Vash is getting too far away. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You feel your body trembling, and you close your eyes, a dull ringing in your ears beginning. Your grip on the gauze pressed into your side is getting looser, but you’re starting to care less. It’s not like it’s working anyway.

You are startled out of your thoughts by the feeling of hands gripping your upper arms. You gasp, opening your eyes, struggling to get them to focus for a moment. Once they do, you see Vash in front of you. His mouth is moving, and he looks worried. Oh. They’re his hands, you note, glancing at his arms. 

The ringing in your ears subsides enough that you can hear his voice again. He’s calling your name.

“…you okay? What’s wrong?” He asks, searching your eyes.

“Huh?” You manage eloquently.

He sighs, closing his eyes, but he doesn’t let go of you. “You’ll be the death of me, Mayfly. What’s wrong?” He asks. “I know you said you’d tell me later, and, well, it’s technically later now, so…” he trails off, but his words have an expectant tone to them. This doesn’t really seem to be something he wants to budge on.

Not that you’re planning on withholding what’s happening at this point. You are almost certain you’ll pass out here soon. 

“Um…” you start, averting your gaze. Finally, he seems to notice the way you’re holding yourself. Specifically, the placement of your arm, tucked into your jacket. His expression shifts into something more knowing, and he seems to have caught on. 

He gently reaches down to pull your hand away so he can take a look, but as he does so, your knees buckle and you start a hard fall to the sandy ground. You shut your eyes, waiting for the impact that never comes, as you are wrapped up in a pair of strong arms before falling very far.

You are slowly lowered the rest of the way, and find yourself resting against Vash’s chest on the ground. He’s muttering something under his breath, and you’re murmuring an apology. He pulls your jacket back, sucking in a sharp breath when he sees the bloodied gauze.

“When were you going to tell me you’re bleeding? Once you were already dead?!” He asks, and yeah, you probably deserve that. He’s peeling back the gauze gingerly, scrutinizing the wound, concern etched into his gorgeous face. He’s talking, likely scolding you, but that annoying ringing in your ears is back, so you can’t hear him. You should not be thinking about how pretty he looks right now, but your vision is turning black and you don’t really care anymore. His head turns to face you, his eyes widening. There’s something in his expression you can’t quite identify.

 But everything feels heavy, and you are very tired. You slump into his chest, closing your eyes. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The next thing you know, you are lying in an uncomfortable bed, tucked into itchy, white sheets. You groan, taking in how dry your mouth is and how bad your side hurts. 

Oh yeah.

You open your eyes, sitting up with a gasp. You blink hard to clear your vision, but curl into yourself as pain shoots through your abdomen. You feel a set of familiar hands take you by the shoulders.

“Woah! Take it easy! Just take a deep breath for me, okay?”

You feel one of the hands move from your shoulder to rub your back soothingly, and you look up. Those beautiful blue eyes meet yours, relief flooding his features. Vash murmurs your name with a relieved smile.

“There you are. Are you okay?” He asks softly, gently pushing you to lay back down. You put up no resistance.

“Yeah, just a bit sore,” you manage, glancing down to your wound. You move your hand to touch it, applying pressure experimentally, but he moves your hand away, holding onto it instead. Like a worried friend, you remind yourself. You take a moment to glance around the clinical-looking room, and think you already know the answer, but ask anyway. “Where are we?”

His thumb moves slowly across your knuckles, just like a friend would do. In a friendly way. “The local clinic. We weren’t very far out of town when you passed out. I just brought you here right away. That was last night.” His expression shifts from soft to scolding, and he runs his other hand through his blonde hair. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! Don’t do that again!”

You offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Vash. We’d used the last of the thread for stitches on one of the children, and I thought I could tough it out.”

He stares at you, and you wilt a bit at his hurt expression. “Why wouldn’t you tell me though? We may not have been able to stitch you up right away, but I could have-“

“Carried me into town?” You finish, and he nods. You reach up, gingerly touching his prosthetic arm. His eyes widen slightly, not expecting your touch. “I know your arm has been bothering you lately, and I didn’t want to make it worse.”

His expression softens endearingly once more at your reasoning, the look he’s giving you making you fall in love with him all over again. 

“Oh, Mayfly,” he murmurs, “let me decide what I can handle, okay? It wouldn’t have been so bad.”

You understand, but you also frown a bit at his words, raising an eyebrow at him. “But who looks after you? You have and would push yourself past every limit you have for the sake of someone else.” 

He sighs, but doesn’t deny what you say, either. “How about we work on compromising a bit? We’ll look after each other, and make sure we aren’t pushing ourselves too hard.”

You try to level him with a stare, but end up relenting with a sigh and a smile. “Fine.”

He smiles back at you, mirroring your tone. “Fine.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and it seems like something comes to his mind at that moment. His smile becomes something more like a smirk, and you regard him suspiciously. 

“What,” you deadpan, somewhat dreading whatever he has to say.

He props his elbows on your bed, resting his chin on his hands, leaning forward. 

“Nothing! I’m just flattered,” he replies, and you really, really don’t like the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“By…?” You ask, narrowing your eyes.

“I didn’t know you thought I was pretty.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. Of course you do. But you’d never just say that.

“Yeah, right.”

“No really! You said so yourself! Remember? Something like, ‘I should not be thinking about how pretty you look-’”

You choke, blushing furiously. Oh my god. Right before you passed out. You must’ve accidentally said that out loud, delirious.

 “I-I did not!” You sputter back, but you know it’s futile. He’s laughing too hard. You hate it, but even now, as he is laughing at you, you can’t help but love the sound of it. You’d do just about anything to keep him laughing and smiling like this.

He pokes your cheek, his laugh dying down. “For the record, I think you’re pretty too. ‘Specially when you’re blushing like this.”

Holy. Shit. 

Never mind. You wish you had bled out.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

God of War: Grumpy Neighbor AU

God of War AU where the instant Sif gets pregnant with Magni and Modi (they are twins here if they aren’t in canon) Thor gets him and his wife the fuck outta dodge because he doesn’t want Odin fucking his kids up the way he fucked Thor himself up.

They hide out on Midgard and Odin keeps trying to find them but Thor’s been his hatchet man for centuries and knows his tricks. Thor hangs up Mjolnir and takes up a crook, becoming a shepherd and farmer.

But, plot twist, they end up living next to a certain vagabond God of War and his Totally Not a Giant wife.

Now Faye recognizes Thor instantly and internally panics but decides that freaking out and running would only confirm any suspicions he has so she pretends nothing is wrong. Thor, meanwhile, is 98% sure this woman is a Jotun but smashing giants is not his goddamn job anymore so he also pretends that everything is fine.

Kratos and Thor grunt in each others’ general directions every once in a while and consider each other their best friends. Sif and Faye end up becoming friends even though there remains a layer of reservation that Sif can’t define the source of.

Magni and Modi grow up as vaguely wholesome Gym Bros who respect women, wrestle bears, and are constantly challenging “uncle Kratos” to wrestling matches, determined to one day beat him.

Sif and Faye get pregnant with Thrud and Atreus around the same time and help each other through their pregnancies, even though Faye knows her time is coming.

Thor sits Kratos down and reveals who he is. Kratos does the same. They come to the same conclusion: their children will never be safe in a world where Odin holds sway.

Thor takes up Mjolnir once more. Kratos takes up the Blades of Chaos again. They set off together, leaving Magni and Modi to guard Faye and Sif. They seek allies, those Thor knows have an axe to grind with Asgard and Odin. Freya, Mimir, as many others as they can find.

Odin never stood a chance.

[coimbrabertone]

NASCAR Numerology: How NASCAR's Current Teams Got Their Numbers: Part Five.

Alright guys, we've gotten to the last part of this little miniseries.

Today we're covering:

Front Row Motorsports, who run the #34 Ford for Michael McDowell and the #38 for Todd Gilliland in the 2024 NASCAR Cup Series.

Legacy Motor Club, who run the #42 Toyota for John Hunter Nemechek and the historic #43 for Erik Jones.

and JTG Daugherty Racing, who run the #47 Chevrolet for Ricky Stenhouse Jr.

Fittingly, we get to end on representation for all three brands.

Front Row Motorsports debuted in 2004, running the #92 Ford on a partial schedule with drivers like Brad Teague, Tony Raines, and Stanton Barrett, but they would fail to qualify for any races. Furthermore, the Mach 1 Motorsports team ran the #98/#96 car that year, splitting time between Ford and Dodge, and running drivers such as Todd and Geoff Bodine, Larry Gunselman, Derrike Cope, Chad Chaffin, and Randy LaJoie.

This team did manage to make some races (keyword: some) and in 2005, Mach 1 would attempt the full schedule with a #34 Chevrolet while another slew of drivers (mainly LaJoie, Chaffin, and PJ Jones) but by the end of 2005, the team was up for sale. Front Row Motorsports would buy this #34 car, as well as Mach 1's shop, and build their team around it.

Often running as a start-and-park team with a revolving door of drivers, Front Row finally got some stability in 2009, with John Andretti driving the #34, and dragging it up to three top twenty finishes, at Daytona, Loudon, and Fontana.

Andretti left after the 2010 Daytona 500, but the top twenty streak remained, with Travis Kvapil scoring an 18th at Talladega and Kevin Conway a 14th at the summer Daytona race.

David Gilliland (Todd's father) ran the full 2011 season and scored a third place at the Daytona 500, building on the results of the last three years to make Front Row Motorsports a proper contender on the superspeedways.

For 2012, Gilliland was moved to the #38 (more on that later) while David Ragan took over the #34. This car would top off FRM's superspeedway streak by winning the 2013 Aaron's 499 at Talladega.

Ragan would leave FRM after the 2015 Daytona 500 to get the opportunity to fill in for the injured Kyle Busch, so that season was a bit of a revolving door for the #34 yet again. Yet, for 2016, they got a technical alliance with Roush Fenway Racing in exchange for running Roush development driver Chris Buescher.

And Chris Buescher would win the 2016 Pennsylvania 400 for them on a Monday after a rainy weekend followed by a foggy weekend led to a segmented and ultimately shortened race. It took a bit of luck, but it got FRM its second win, and the first that wasn't on a superspeedway.

Chris Buescher went to JTG Daugherty of all places for 2017 (more on that later), so FRM hired Landon Cassill, without much success, before signing Michael McDowell for 2018.

McDowell has seen FRM become a legitimate team, winning the 2021 Daytona 500 and the 2023 Verizon 200 at the Brickyard at the IMS Road Course. Furthermore, in 2024, now in alliance with Team Penske, Front Row Motorsports is no longer an ironic name, as McDowell has started first or second multiple times this season, including at Daytona, Atlanta, and even Gateway, the latter two being pole positions.

Michael McDowell, however, will be moving to the Spire Motorsports #71 for 2025.

FRM has built their numbering scheme off of the #34, running other cars such as the #35, #37, and most commonly the #36, but its second full time car has been the #38.

Driven by David Gilliland from 2012-2015 and son Todd Gilliand ever since 2022, the car has also seen drives from Landon Cassill, David Ragan (in a return to FRM), John-Hunter Nemechek, Anthony Alfredo, and Zane Smith. With four top tens and a further ten top twenties, 2024 has thus far been the most successful season to date for the #38.

FRM will run a third full time car in 2025, having bought a charter from SHR, and has signed SHR's Noah Gragson, but it is unknown was number he will run. FRM ran the #36 this season for Kaz Grala, but Bob Jenkins says he's not married to this numbering scheme. Still, even numbers in the mid-30s are as close to consistent numbering as FRM has ever gotten, so I hope they do decide to stick with the #36.

Onto Legacy Motor Club.

First things first, this team is a Frankenstein's Monster mess of forgotten NASCAR teams in hilarious fashion. Petty Enterprises, officially ran from 1949 to 2008, when sponsorship could not be found, leading to the team merging with Gillett-Evernham Motorsports for 2009. Gillett-Evernham Motorsports consisted of Evernham Motorsports, the former Dodge factory team that ran the #9 and the #19, MBV Motorsports (which was essentially the #10 car owned by Valvoline at this point), and money from George Gillett, who was at the time the controversial owner of the Montreal Canadiens and Liverpool FC.

So already, you had the Petty #43, Petty #45, Evernham #9, Evernham #19, and Valvoline #10 merging into one team, but for 2010, they also bought Yates Racing to take over Paul Menard and his #98 Ford. This allowed the entire team to switch from Dodge to Ford.

So come 2010, the team is running the #9, #19, #43, and #98 with relics from three different numbering schemes remaining in the team. It's freaking awesome.

The #19 and #98 went away after 2010, leaving the team with the #9 and the #43.

The #9 was initially their most successful car, with Kasey Kahne winning Sonoma 2009 and Fall Atlanta 2009 with the team, before Australian Marcos Ambrose won Watkins Glen for the team in 2011 and 2012.

The #43 would, to its credit, with the 2014 Coke Zero 400 at Daytona with Aric Almirola, and it would become the team's only car after 2016.

After the 2021 season, GMS Racing, a truck team, bought into Petty, becoming Petty GMS. Ahead of the 2023 season, the team became Legacy Motor Club, with Jimmie Johnson buying in, Richard Petty chasing out, and Maury Gallagher of GMS becoming majority owner. Petty remained involved a spokesman for the team, however.

So, finally, onto their numbers. They run the #43 and have since practically the beginning of time, because that was Richard Petty's number? Why, well, that actually takes us to their second car, the #42, which was Lee Petty's number.

Why did Lee Petty pick the #42? Legend has it was the first two numbers in his license plate.

So, Lee Petty ran the #42, his son Richard ran the #43, Richard's son Kyle would eventually run the #44, and Kyle's son Adam would run the #45. Each generation building on the last. When Adam died, Kyle took over the #45 in his memory.

Thad Moffitt in the Truck series is a grandson of Richard Petty through Petty's youngest daughter Rebecca, and he continues this trend by running the #46.

In any case, when Petty GMS bought a second car in 2022, they chose to run the #42 - recently vacated by Chip Ganassi - reuniting the original two Petty numbers.

This arrangement continued as Petty became Legacy and eventually switched to Toyota for 2024. Currently the #43 is driven by Erik Jones, who won Darlington in it in 2022, and the #42 by John Hunter Nemechek.

Also, fun fact, Kyle Petty drove the #42 at Team SABCO (which would eventually become Chip Ganassi Racing) from 1989 to 1996, so it was a Petty number even when it wasn't.

And now JTG Daugherty Racing. It started in 2007, running a second car (#47) in alliance with the Wood Brothers. I cannot find any specific reason for the #47, only that Tad Geschickter ran a #47 Busch car ever since 1996, so maybe it was an availability thing. In any case, they ran the #47 and made their Cup debut in 2007, with Ken Schrader and Jon Wood each trying and failing to qualify for a race.

The #47 managed a few starts in 2008 with Marcos Ambrose, finishing third at the Glen, which prompted JTG to split with the Wood Brothers to try and go full time for the 2009 season with Ambrose in a #47 Toyota. This lasted two years before Mabrose moved to the aforementioned Richard Petty Motorsports, with JTG instead drafting in Bobby Labonte.

They would sign AJ Allmendinger in 2013 as Labonte began scaling back his races, and with AJ full time in 2014, they'd win at Watkins Glen. Allmendinger would last until 2018, when Ryan Preece was hired for that car, but then Ricky Stenhouse Jr. was chosen for 2020. Ricky would win the 2023 Daytona 500 with the team.

JTG Daugherty also briefly has a second car, the #37 - ten less than #47, also apparently Tad used this number in college sports - the #37 ran with Chris Buescher for 2017, 2018, and 2019, before running with Ryan Preece for 2020 and 2021.

This brings up another interesting aspect of JTG Daugherty Racing - despite the fact that they're a Chevy team, they kinda have this unique relationship with RFK Racing. First of all, Chris Buescher was a Roush development driver. Second of all, that #37 car for Buescher was run on the charter for Roush's #16.

Third, was that when Roush took Chris Buescher back for the 2020 season, Ricky Stenhouse Jr. then went the other way, going from the Roush #17 to the JTG Daugherty #47.

Oh, and as recently as 2023, JTG Daugherty's pit crew was on loan from Roush. Yeah, odd.

So yeah, that is all 36 chartered teams for the 2024 NASCAR Cup series and the story of a couple other numbers that are relevant to the story. I hope you guys enjoyed all that, but I think I'm gonna write about some other motorsports for a little while. The blog has been a bit NASCAR heavy lately and this week added a whole five extra blogposts to it.

I do enjoy blabbing on about NASCAR, but I also enjoy blabbing on about MotoGP and Indycar. Formula One is also a sport that exists.

[linghxr]

75 MORE essential single-character verbs (单字动词)

People seemed to really enjoy my recent post 75 essential single-character verbs (单字动词)...so here's 75 MORE VERBS.

It was really difficult to put together the first list. I had a spreadsheet of literally hundreds of characters that I had to whittle down. So I was happy to give some of the eliminated characters a second chance.

Definitions are from MDBG. For some characters with additional meanings, I have bolded the meanings I want to highlight.

(76) 欠 qiàn - to owe / to lack / (literary) to be deficient in / (bound form) yawn / to raise slightly (a part of one's body)

(77) 顿 dùn - to stop / to pause / to arrange / to lay out / to kowtow / to stamp (one's foot) / at once / classifier for meals, beatings, scoldings etc: time, bout, spell, meal

(78) 逗 dòu - to tease (playfully) / to entice / (coll.) to joke / (coll.) funny / amusing / to stay / to sojourn / brief pause at the end of a phrase (variant of 讀｜读)

(79) 沉 chén - to submerge / to immerse / to sink / to keep down / to lower / to drop / deep / profound / heavy

(80) 挡 dǎng - to resist / to obstruct / to hinder / to keep off / to block (a blow) / to get in the way of / cover / gear (e.g. in a car's transmission)

(81) 晒 shài - (of the sun) to shine on / to bask in (the sunshine) / to dry (clothes, grain etc) in the sun / (fig.) to expose and share (one's experiences and thoughts) on the Web (loanword from "share") / (coll.) to give the cold shoulder to

(82) 聚 jù - to congregate / to assemble / to mass / to gather together / to amass / to polymerize

(83) 派 pài - clique / school / group / faction / to dispatch / to send / to assign / to appoint / pi (Greek letter Ππ) / the circular ratio pi = 3.1415926 / (loanword) pie

(84) 叠 dié - to fold / to fold over in layers / to furl / to layer / to pile up / to repeat / to duplicate

(85) 缠 chán - to wind around / to wrap round / to coil / tangle / to involve / to bother / to annoy

(86) 嫁 jià - (of a woman) to marry / to marry off a daughter / to shift (blame etc)

(87) 逼 bī - to force (sb to do sth) / to compel / to press for / to extort / to press on towards / to press up to / to close in on / euphemistic variant of 屄

(88) 喊 hǎn - to yell / to shout / to call out for (a person)

(89) 躲 duǒ - to hide / to dodge / to avoid

(90) 抓 zhuā - to grab / to catch / to arrest / to snatch / to scratch

(91) 藏 cáng - to conceal / to hide away / to harbor / to store / to collect

(92) 瞒 mán - to conceal from / to keep (sb) in the dark

(93) 挑 tiāo - to carry on a shoulder pole / to choose / to pick / to nitpick

(94) 扑 pū - to throw oneself at / to pounce on / to devote one's energies / to flap / to flutter / to dab / to pat / to bend over

(95) 踏 tà - to tread / to stamp / to step on / to press a pedal / to investigate on the spot

(96) 断 duàn - to break / to snap / to cut off / to give up or abstain from sth / to judge / (usu. used in the negative) absolutely / definitely / decidedly

(97) 捡 jiǎn - to pick up / to collect / to gather

(98) 拖 tuō - to drag / to tow / to trail / to hang down / to mop (the floor) / to delay / to drag on

(99) 肯 kěn - to agree / to consent / to be willing to

(100) 挖 wā - to dig / to excavate / to scoop out

(101) 摔 shuāi - to throw down / to fall / to drop and break

(102) 伸 shēn - to stretch / to extend

(103) 摸 mō - to feel with the hand / to touch / to stroke / to grope / to steal / to abstract

(104) 绕 rào - to wind / to coil (thread) / to rotate around / to spiral / to move around / to go round (an obstacle) / to by-pass / to make a detour / to confuse / to perplex

(105) 飘 piāo - to float

(106) 碰 pèng - to touch / to meet with / to bump

(107) 染 rǎn - to dye / to catch (a disease) / to acquire (bad habits etc) / to contaminate / to add color washes to a painting

(108) 搁 gē - to place / to put aside / to shelve

(109) 铺 pū - to spread / to display / to set up / (old) holder for door-knocker

(110) 托 tuō - to trust / to entrust / to be entrusted with / to act as trustee

(111) 捧 pěng - to clasp / to cup the hands / to hold up with both hands / to offer (esp. in cupped hands) / to praise / to flatter

(112) 剥 bō | bāo - to peel / to skin / to shell / to shuck

(113) 挠 náo - to scratch / to thwart / to yield

(114) 填 tián - to fill or stuff / (of a form etc) to fill in

(115) 瞅 chǒu - (dialect) to look at

(116) 蹲 dūn - to crouch / to squat / to stay (somewhere)

(117) 溜 liū - to slip away / to escape in stealth / to skate

(118) 坠 zhuì - to fall / to drop / to weigh down

(119) 撩 liáo - to tease / to provoke / to stir up (emotions)

(120) 牵 qiān - to lead along / to pull (an animal on a tether) / (bound form) to involve / to draw in

(121) 装 zhuāng - adornment / to adorn / dress / clothing / costume (of an actor in a play) / to play a role / to pretend / to install / to fix / to wrap (sth in a bag) / to load / to pack

(122) 望 wàng - full moon / to hope / to expect / to visit / to gaze (into the distance) / to look towards / towards

(123) 编 biān - to weave / to plait / to organize / to group / to arrange / to edit / to compile / to write / to compose / to fabricate / to make up

(124) 冻 dòng - to freeze / to feel very cold / aspic or jelly

(125) 抛 pāo - to throw / to toss / to fling / to cast / to abandon

(126) 喷 pēn - to puff / to spout / to spray / to spurt

(127) 刻 kè - quarter (hour) / moment / to carve / to engrave / to cut / oppressive / classifier for short time intervals

(128) 逃 táo - to escape / to run away / to flee

(129) 偷 tōu - to steal / to pilfer / to snatch / thief / stealthily

(130) 吐 tù - to vomit / to throw up

(131) 摁 èn - to press (with one's finger or hand)

(132) 瞪 dèng - to open (one's eyes) wide / to stare at / to glare at

(133) 递 dì - to hand over / to pass on / to deliver / (bound form) progressively / in the proper order

(134) 扭 niǔ - to turn / to twist / to wring / to sprain / to swing one's hips

(135) 轮 lún - wheel / disk / ring / steamship / to take turns / to rotate / classifier for big round objects: disk, or recurring events: round, turn

(136) 混 hùn - to mix / to mingle / muddled / to drift along / to muddle along / to pass for / to get along with sb / thoughtless / reckless

(137) 揪 jiū - to seize / to clutch / to grab firmly and pull

(138) 卷 juǎn - to roll up / roll / classifier for small rolled things (wad of paper money, movie reel etc)

(139) 瞧 qiáo - to look at / to see / to see (a doctor) / to visit

(140) 刺 cì - thorn / sting / thrust / to prick / to pierce / to stab / to assassinate / to murder

(141) 搜 sōu - to search

(142) 遮 zhē - to cover up (a shortcoming) / to screen off / to hide / to conceal

(143) 争 zhēng - to strive for / to vie for / to argue or debate / deficient or lacking (dialect) / how or what (literary)

(144) 撤 chè - to remove / to take away

(145) 闪 shǎn - to dodge / to duck out of the way / to beat it / shaken (by a fall) / to sprain / to pull a muscle / lightning / spark / a flash / to flash (across one's mind) / to leave behind / (Internet slang) (of a display of affection) "dazzlingly" saccharine

(146) 耍 shuǎ - to play with / to wield / to act (cool etc) / to display (a skill, one's temper etc)

(147) 忍 rěn - to bear / to endure / to tolerate / to restrain oneself

(148) 摇 yáo - to shake / to rock / to row / to crank

(149) 戳 chuō - to jab / to poke / to stab / (coll.) to sprain / to blunt / to f*ck (vulgar) / to stand / to stand (sth) upright / stamp / seal

(150) 晃 huàng - to sway / to shake / to wander about huǎng - to dazzle / to flash past

[ms-ajt-whumps]

Handholding and Asthma

Genre: Whump, Fluff. CW/TW: Bullying, Asthma Attack

Fandom: The Adam Project Characters: Young!Adam, Y/n, Ray, Chuckie, Ellie

2332 words

Let me know if any tags of warnings should be added, I want to be sure everything I post is properly tagged.

@almost-gabrielle

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Adam would never admit this, but Ray did scare him a little bit. It wasn't that Ray was actually an effective bully, it was more that he had a couple inches on Adam and serious daddy issues. There was also the chance that Ray would accidentally hurt Adam, worse than he himself was truly capable of. Freak accidents could always occur.

It had started simply enough: Ray had been picking on Adam’s friend Y/n during lunch. Now, it wasn’t that Adam like-liked Y/n, because he really, truly, most definitely, 100%, probably didn’t, but he couldn’t stand by while Ray picked on her. So, he’d instigated. Ray had rounded on him and bolted, and so did Adam. They’d run through the lunchroom and the school, dodging teachers, the principal’s grabbing hand, and other students until eventually Adam (who felt that his lead in the race would save him from a serious ass-kicking) burst outside. He’d hesitated, looking left and right, breathing heavily but not badly, and hurried to one side. He had felt, with his advantageous lead and stable (so far) breathing, that he’d win. He had not. Adam fucking tripped and went sprawling. Ray had been on him in a second, yanking him to his feet and pinning Adam up against a wall, glaring at him. Adam's mouth went a mile a minute. Quips, jabs, one liners, some of them even pretty good. They had flowed out automatically, the easiest thing in the world for him. It wasn't until Adam had said something about Ray and Chuckie being too stupid to snark anything back that Ray had really reacted. 

“You turds are standing here like a couple of mute mimes, ventriloquist dummies with no puppetmaster. You really think I'm going to be scared of a couple of meat bags who can't even talk?” Or something like that. Adam couldn't really remember what it had been right now, as he was on his back on the ground, Ray's foot stomped down into his chest. 

“You think you're so funny, Reid.” Ray had sneered. He had grabbed Adam by the front of his shirt and jerked him forward and around, pushing him to the ground. “Well, we'll see how funny you are when, …when you've lost!” Ray had put his foot on Adam's chest triumphantly. Chuckie had offered up his hand for a high five, a lumbering and slow gesture, a stupid grin on his face, and Ray smacked it, smirking down at Adam.

“That's your best? Really?” Adam snarked back from the ground, to which Ray pressed his foot down harder. This was when it began. It, the pressure. Then It, the crushing feeling, the internal collapse of systems intended to keep you alive. Damn it, he’d been fine running, even. You'd think providing oxygen to a 98 pound twelve year old would be an easy task, but no, apparently not for Adam's lungs. He sucked in a thin, wheezy breath, looking up at Ray. Adam tried to glare but the fear was setting in. He did the only thing he knew how. “Step any harder on me and I'll have to petition your mom to stop being so fat. The weight was…” he gasps slightly as pain snaked through him, “transferred to you in bone density. Thank God not in fat density, or you'd be enormous.” 

Ray looked presently peeved at this, and moved to punch Adam in the face. Adam sucked in another wheezing breath. Chuckie stood stupidly alongside Ray.

“Leave him alone!” An indignant shout rung out across the lot. 

Ray's head swiveled to see who it was. The girl from lunch. The quiet one. He smirked. “Go home, you're not involved in this.” He pulled back from Adam, his foot still on his chest, baring his own chest to the girl. He was trying to look big and scary. Ray almost didn't even bother really looking at her, he figured she would be scared off pretty easily, but at the last second caught a glimpse of her expression. His eyes snapped up, a thin trail of dread trickling down him. He saw anger. Crystal clear, unfiltered fury. More than Ray had ever seen, even from his mom when he failed tests. She also looked calm, like she knew precisely how to… how to…

“Let him go,” Y/n said firmly. “Before I have to fuck you up, Ray.”

This made Chuckie nervous; he took an unconscious step backward. Ray looked to him desperately, betrayed. “Chuck,” he hissed.

Adam wheezed tightly again, hands twitching against the concrete, searching for something to hold onto.

She stalked towards the three, a menacing stature about her. Determination, Certainty. “Go, Ray. Before I have to bring you home in a bag.” Y/n was two feet from him when his nerve finally broke. He stepped off Adam, who gasped and coughed, and took a couple nervous steps backward. Y/n looked at him darkly, shooing him away with her hands. 

Ray really wanted to be tough, but he kind of believed her. Maybe she would bring him home in a bag. Maybe she was insane or something. He took another couple steps away, still hesitating, looking for an opening he could hurt her through. But there were none, so he ran. Chuckie ran with him of course, much more slowly. 

Y/n called, “You're a bitch, Ray! Everyone knows it!” Then she was on her knees, talking to Adam very gently. “What's wrong?”

He wheezed, hands grabbing at his chest. He looked briefly at her, the panic now evident in his brown eyes. 

“Asthma attack, Ok. Where's your inhaler?” Y/n said quickly, hands at the ready, hovering in the air over Adam. “You have it with you, right?” Her eyes flashed to his, suddenly nervous.

Adam nodded, coughing, and grappled with the front pocket of his jeans. Y/n pushed his hands away quickly–they fell uselessly to the ground–and wrestled the inhaler from his pocket. She pulled the cap off and tossed it aside, bringing the inhaler to Adam's mouth.

“Ready?” Y/n asked.

He couldn't respond, just coughing and wheezing. He reached for her and grabbed her arm tightly, pulling it towards himself. 

Y/n put the inhaler in his mouth and triggered it. “3… 2… 1…” she counted down for him, watching his face closely. Adam let his breath out in a burst of air. Y/n rested a light hand on his chest, keeping the inhaler near his face. “Good?” she asked quietly. 

He shook his head, weakly pulling her arm back towards him, brown eyes wide with anxiety and focused on the next dose of medicine. He winced as his lungs wracked with pain again. She put the inhaler back in his mouth and triggered it again. Y/n counted again, watching him closely. Adam relaxed slightly, closing his eyes as he held his breath. He let his breath out slowly, the correct way, and sighed. His eyes flickered open, looking at Y/n with a surprised, trusting expression. He didn't talk for a long minute, just laying tiredly on his back, staring at this girl in front of him. Adam dimly realized that he still held her wrist and awkwardly let go, hand falling to the ground.

Y/n asked, “Should you sit up?”

Adam nodded, tiredly trying to get himself up. Y/n helped quickly, pulling him up by the arms. Adam ended up slumped against her, which made Y/n blush slightly. She supported his weight though, figuring that he needed the contact. Adam still didn't say anything, just breathing slowly. Y/n grabbed his hand and pushed the inhaler into it, wrapping his fingers around it for him. “There you go,” she said softly, feeling awkwardly self-conscious about holding Adam like she was. That wasn’t something that people who were just classmates did.  

“Thanks,” Adam finally said. “Ray is a bitch.” He continued to just slump against her, trying to pretend that he would get up soon and that he wasn’t really liking being this close to her. He didn’t have a crush on her. 

She nodded, smiling. They sat there in the quiet for a long time. Adam toyed with his inhaler and glanced shyly up at her and away quickly again when their eyes meet. He breathed slowly. “What makes you brave enough to…” Adam asked quietly, his eyes tracking her face.

She shrugged, jostling Adam slightly, looking off into the distance as she considered the question. The way Adam was leaning on her reminded her of the one time when she was a child and had found a puppy with a hurt foot. She’d cradled him too, as a protector. “I just know how to scare him. He's not really that big.”

“Bigger than me,” Adam mumbled, still fiddling with his inhaler. 

“Everyone's bigger than you, Adam,” she teased, laughing. Y/n looked back to him, catching a smile on his face.

Adam was laughing too. He found he didn't mind when Y/n teased him. He pushed himself up, sitting alone now. 

“I'll have to teach you my tricks.” She smirked. 

Adam nodded quietly, triggering another puff off the inhaler into his mouth. 

“Do you usually have to do more than once?” Y/n asked curiously.

Adam held up a finger to show that he needed a second. Y/n waited patiently. He let out his breath slowly, then speaking. “For the worse ones.” 

“Oh. Okay.”

Quiet again. Adam looked shyly between the ground and Y/n, who pretended not to notice. She looked towards the playground. 

The awkwardness present wasn't only because these were two awkward middle schoolers, though that wasn't helping at all, …it was because Y/n had had a crush on Adam Reed for a little while now. Sure, he was scrawny and had asthma but who really cared? His jokes in class always made her want to cry laughing, and he seemed to not care about all the stupid stuff teachers were always trying to make kids care about. It was kind of like he knew what was important in life. Like he knew there was something bigger out there. He looked at her and her insides would do flips and turns and some shy part of her brain would urge ‘look away, look away right now!’ So she stared at the playground. Y/n could feel his gaze on her, and saw in her peripherals that he seemed just as nervous as her. He was looking at her and then away, then glancing back.

The most hopeful part of her brain whispered quietly, ‘What if he likes me too?’ But the protective part was quick to reprimand, ‘don't think like that, he probably doesn't.’ Y/n glanced quickly at him, their eyes met, and she looked away.

Adam looked away too, blushing. 

He wasn't sure why he was feeling so nervous all of a sudden, he'd never felt nervous around Y/n before. Usually she would just let him copy off her homework and would trade good snacks at lunch. It was chill. Maybe he was feeling weird ‘cause she'd saved him from Ray, not that Adam wouldn't have survived on his own, he would have been fine. Maybe it was because she had been so smart about his inhaler, or like… something about her not judging him, or… he glanced at her again, noting the pinkish color on her cheeks and ears.

‘Oh, dear god no, please no,’ some part of Adam’s mind pleaded. He glanced at her again. ‘Fuck. …That’s it, we’re fucked. We’re fucked for sure.’ He tried to shush his racing mind, and think like one coherent thought at least but before he knew it was going to happen his mouth said, “Wanna come over and see a movie?” This was punctuated by a mental ‘Fuck! No! What are you doing?!’ But it was too late, he’d said it. Now he was trapped. He stared hopelessly at Y/n, waiting for her to… crush his heart, maybe? Perhaps he was still too young  for that. Would she accept? She wasn’t even looking his way, what if she said no? Would he just die on the spot?

Y/n turned to him with an abashed smile and said, “Sure.” She was blushing. 

‘Dear god, no! You’ll get cooties or something, god, stop!’ “We could watch something at my house, I’m sure my mom could bring you home after,” Adam said, trying to play it super cool. His hands danced nervously around the plastic inhaler. 

She nodded. “That… that sounds good, I’ll bet my dad could pick me up too if needed.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked nervously at him, never wanting to look away but also thinking, ‘I need to blink, did I blink enough? Or too much? God, I’m the worst. This is terrible.’

“My mom should be here soon, we could…” He gestured to the pickup area of the parking lot.

“Yeah.”

-

Y/n and Adam were sitting on the sofa before the big screen, Alien playing. Ellie was at the kitchen table, trying desperately to comprehend her husband’s tax filing system. 

The tension was palpable. Y/n and Adam could basically feel electrical vibrations passing between the two of them. Neither were watching the movie.

“Do you like the… movie?” Adam asked softly, looking to Y/n.

“Yeah, I think so.” Y/n smiled, looking back at him. 

Adam glanced over his shoulder at his mom, then to Y/n. His whole brain was screaming not to, but he hesitantly placed his hand onto Y/n’s. His breath hitched nervously, as he waited for her to punch him in the face or scream in disgust, but… her fingers laced into his calmly. Adam glanced up at her, face beet red. She smiled, squeezing his hand in her own. 

Adam looked shyly back to the TV, a grin creeping onto his face. 

-Fin

[queen-scribbles]

For pairing + AU setting: ryn/red + The Mummy AU?

Em, what are you doing, I don't need another Ryn/Red AU in the 20's, I'm trying to finish the current one. xD Soon™

"So... why did you kiss me?" The question had been burning a hole in her brain for days, and much as she was normally the type to suffer in silence(for her love life, anyway), Ryn couldn't stand it any longer.

"Hm?" Red blinked as he looked up, clearly pulled from some inner monologue. "Oh. I don't know, I was about to die, seemed like--" He stopped himself, thumbed the pages of his book. "Seemed like I wouldn't get another chance, so it was as good an idea as any."

It was her turn to blink, caught off guard by the candor. The boat's engine seemed unnaturally loud as she struggled to find her voice, let alone words. "...another chance?"

He cocked his head, and that roguish edge he'd picked up in their years apart shone through. "C'mon, Xaeryn, you trying to say you've never wanted to kiss me?"

Every damn day. "I-"

The sound of rising tempers floated in from the direction of the dining deck and the card game Pan had gotten himself enmeshed in.

Ryn groaned and rolled her eyes as she and Red both pushed to their feet in response. One-God above, Panrachus, what is it this time?!

Send a pairing + AU!

Notes below :D

SO. This was a tad tricky bc they're both more Evie-coded than Rick-coded to me, but either can be the Rick figure with just a little... tweaking to their character. Red got that honor, imagine all his adventuring he had to get a little cocky/daring to deal with tomb robbers etc. (He's like 98% the same old Red and 2% Chase. Lord have mercy). Ryn is Evie, Pan is Jonathan, I guesssssss Neon would be the Ardeth stand in(?)

But see, what's fun about this is they still have the history together at the Circle. Bc that's too big a part of who Ryn is for me to take it away. Her time there and friendships with Red, Pan, and Neon were too formative, she'd be a completely different, nigh unrecognizable, person with that(+ her crush on Red /cough). So now the romantic tension is the exact opposite of what it was/is in tLBT; he did kiss her, near the beginning even, and spends a very large chunk of the story trying to either dodge talking about it or playing it as Not a Big Deal(seriously, Xaer, have you seen yourself? Most guys would want kissing a pretty girl to be their last act on earth¯\_(ツ)_/¯) and it not coming out until toward the end he's been crushing on/in love with her too. :3

So there's some changes to the relationship dynamics that make it not completely align with either of Ryn/Red's romance arcs ( @shepherds-of-haven canon or tLBT) OR Rick/Evie's. It's completely its own thing. FUN.

Love that the one constant, however, is Pan inadvertently interrupting Confessions.