#i've had this idea since i started the blog though

[graysistance]

𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧

the year is 34 aby, and the resistance has a new political star.

two, actually. 

the first, a young woman who streaked from galactic oblivion to not only survive capture by kylo ren and torture by the first order, but count a significant victory against ren atop starkiller’s ashes to her name. the second, a young man who'd rejected the first order's stormtrooper programming, proved that starkiller base wasn't as defensible as the first order would like to think, and just narrowly survived what should have been a debilitating lightsaber injury.

about that….

rey is, frankly, more than upset to have missed the bulk of finn's recovery. chiefly, his waking up. instead, she'd run off to the other end of the precious map bb-8 and r2-d2 had put together, components practically shaking with hope and glee. leia's blessing and pleas had gone with her, an enormous privilege, but when all was said and done finn was far more preferable to cantankerous luke skywalker. not even the stunning setting of ach-to with water as far as the eye could see helped sooth her irritation. 

but the island did give her one happy gift: in the end, luke agreed to return to his sister's side - and by extension, the resistance. either rey convinced him or he convinced himself; it almost didn't matter. the journey back to d'qar very nearly reduced rey to exclaiming in luke's face that she didn't understand how luke managed to achieve what he apparently had over the course of the galactic civil war, but she held her tongue and they did in fact arrive in one piece. the reunion of a long-parted sister and brother did manage to soften her heart. as did being able to throw her arms around a mostly recovered but very awake finn. 

eventually it was decided that luke would begin training rey in the ways of  the jedi arts while leia would contribute as she had the opportunity. suddenly, rey's life was busier than it had ever been before. hours spent in hyperspace became days spent in focused mediation or exhausting rounds of dueling and saber forms. it all escalated too quickly. her time on d'qar was limited, and therefore time with her friends was as well. rey began to hoard opportunities to join resistance fighters in the black, defending planets in need or forming up to rain fiery hell down upon the first order. training was important, but the whole reason she was training was the resistance. it made no sense not to divide precious time between both. 

everything spiraled further into drastic change when, after eight standard months of tutelage under luke, the skywalker twins sent rey out alone on a mission to stalsinek iv with nothing save her recently completed yellow bladed saber and a short holo from leia referencing some prior agreement of safe passage "should anything go wrong."

her mission: find the site of a fabled great fountain supposedly spewing water that granted healing and a longer lifespan. the drinking of the water wasn't the point, luke emphasized, but to soak in the fountain's presence, sense the strength of the force around it, and meditate in the wash of heightened power. he'd called it a "nexus", much like the caves of dagobah from his youth or the jedi temple on ach-to and by extension the cave below from rey's recent experience. it was there she was intended to find some semblance of balance and peace. 

during rey's most arduous journey yet to the mysterious hapes consortium, she began to wonder if balance or peace were even possible. 

once she'd manually threaded her way through the heavily ionized minefield of the transitory mists, locking the consortium away from the rest of the inner rim and indeed the rest of the galaxy itself, past the tangled knot holes that threatened to yank her into a plethora of unknown hyperspace lanes and setting her progress maker knew how far back, rey arrived in the hapes cluster that contained stalsinek iv. with great care rey crept her way through consortium space, clinging to the barest threads of the force to show her the way. and show her the way they did. 

from space, stalsinek iv was a jewel-toned planet that conjured thoughts of rich forests and the constant presence of burbling rivers and streams. rey had only moments to feel the intensity of gleeful relief before the falcon's sensors blared, warning her of a speedily approaching craft. there were no seconds to spare between flicking on all the falcon’s shields and a barrage of cannon fire slamming against the falcon’s hull.

kylo ren had followed her through the transitory mists and waited until she'd slowed her search to a crawl before attacking. the absolute sleemo. he was not at all interested in keeping to a low profile and continued to unload his munitions onto her, cornering rey into firing back. 

what followed was a concentrated dogfight that left rey's head pounding as she grit down on her teeth in painful ferocity, the entire span of the falcon groaning from sharp turns and dives. the two ships crawled closer and closer to the surface of the rainforest planet the harder their pilots pushed every avenue of firepower to their limits. 

in a sudden, inspired move that rey could barely telegraph, she fired precisely toward one of kylo's sublight engines and hit dead on. she lost all sight of his ship in the resulting explosion and, taking the opportunity presented, reflexively dove for the planet's surface below. 

not long later, the smoking falcon landed in an almost too-small clearing. planetside, rey found it both difficult yet instinctive to command her rush of adrenaline into a more aware sense of calm. the force was almost breathable it was so strong here, and rey could trick herself into believing she saw the force itself filtering through sunbeams like fog. putting kylo ren from her mind and the oddly bittersweet possibility that she may have crippled him and left him to whatever hapans may come across the debris of his tie, the young woman pressed forward. 

whispers from the force led her step by step, leap by leap, to a quietly glimmering fountain. the surrounding clearing was dotted with a circular arrangement of glittering stone pillars covered in carvings that read long past ancient. such confounding and unearthly beauty left rey speechless, awestruck to the point of utter serenity. how long she stood there, she couldn't quantify. she only knew her time of mute reflection had come to an end with the crack of a saber igniting behind her.

stang. kylo didn’t simply survive her blast. he’d limped his craft down to the surface and followed her through a barely habitable jungle to the fountain luke warned her was partly myth, but worth protecting with her life if discovered to be real. 

the following fight was merciless. 

minutes or hours couldn’t keep pace with the two adversaries. rey and kylo clashed again and again and again, losing their sabers only to find them again, diving between columns and dodging falling debris. all the while, the force nexus roared, imbuing each force user with an intensity of power they'd never before felt capable of. not even on starkiller base when the voices of jedi past had whispered in rey’s ear, encouraging her with every strike and even mutely suggesting multiple offensive moves she'd never before considered with a saber or her quarterstaff. again and again red mingled with yellow as rey valiantly attempted to drive kylo away. yet they were evenly matched with every swing, the force answering each of their calls to it with bellowing might. 

and then the force quieted and was gone. 

completely. 

such an anomaly was enough to cause kylo to cease his barrage and rey hers, though their sabers were still locked together. rey stared into the obsidian blockade that was kylo's mask, unwilling to pull back. strangely, his helm left her view as kylo's head whipped to the side, apparently detecting something rey could not.

the unmistakable thudding of footsteps reached her ears too late.

upon hearing them, the sound of blasters being set to what she hoped was stun overrode all other questions. if her and kylo's dogfight had not alerted hapes' defenses enough, their fight and subsequent destruction of the fountain certainly had. 

rey was momentarily confused by the sight of armed soldiers wearing what looked to be night vision paraphernalia. but there was no time to think more on it once the command came to put their hands in the air. characteristically, rey had no intention of doing so. kylo, apparently, felt the same. almost as if they were linked, kylo and rey began to take down as many soldiers down as they could, enough to form a path of escape. they were nearly there when a strange thought to “stop the attack” squirmed its way into her head. very unlike rey to think such a thing, but the thought was persistent and rey eventually wore down and listened. as soon as she stilled, a cry of “set to stun!” broke through the air and rey went down like the ruins behind her. 

the scavenger woke in darkness and not alone. she and kylo had been brought to an unfamiliar cell and thrown in together to wait on whatever fate the hapans felt was deserved. in typical fashion they argued until more soldiers materialized to remove rey from the cell and haul her somewhere private for questioning. she quickly found that whatever strange technology had been used to fool her into thinking strange thoughts, that made her obey commands, was once more being employed. every question she was asked she had to answer in full truth, leaving no details out. 

but the strangest one was the question of whether or not the names isolder or tenenial djo meant anything to her. her open response in the negative seemed to confuse her interrogator. 

she was sent back to her cell after all inquiries had been exhausted, but quickly removed one more time before she could begin explaining to kylo what had transpired. soldiers murmured that prince isolder had arrived. it clearly meant something very important that he was here, although rey couldn’t fathom why.

many halls and doorways were passed in haste, but one door at last swung open to reveal a standing, clearly regal, older man. he ushered for them both to sit down, then began speaking. slowly, strangely, but clearly. and as he spoke, rey soon began to realize that her life was changing in a far more immediate way than ever before: she and this prince were related. 

not only that, rey was the royal heir of hapes and granddaughter to ta’chume herself. quite possibly strangest of all, her name was kira. her true name, after all those years. 

isolder continued for long minutes, answering all of rey's poorly pieced together and sometimes silent questions. the air was filled with more and more and more practically unbelievable stories that rey nearly refused to accept outright – if it hadn’t been for all the proof isolder was willing to provide. apparently, fourteen years prior, civil war had been tearing the hapes consortium apart at the seams and the royal family were scrambling to keep the throne and stay alive. the crown prince and chume’da’s six year old daughter was under heavy protection, but apparently not enough. to rey’s shock, she was informed that she had not been left behind out of necessity or abandoned with prejudice, but smuggled far, far away from her home to the relative safety of coruscant. only, during a refueling stop on jakku, a bounty hunter tailing them at the behest of isolder's rebelling brother kalen pulled rey and her nursemaid from their ship, sold the little girl to unkar plutt, and flew away with the nursemaid never to be seen again.

a simple story resulting in disaster that left a family in pieces. almost worse was the revelation that rey no longer had a mother. tenenial had died shortly after kira's birth under suspicious circumstances. rey couldn’t pick which was worse: discovering that her apparent mother was dead, or realizing that even if she'd been able to grow up in hapes she would never have known her at all.

an alarm suddenly split the air calling for the prince and his "guest" to be evacuated. kylo had escaped his – their – cell and was now nowhere to be found. and he was armed. rey sprang into action, determined to follow kylo and stop him before he made it off planet. a path of destruction was laid out in front of her as rey discovered that he'd taken her saber, too.

for the second time that day she plunged into the jungles of stalsinek iv in search of her quarry. once she breached the walls of what she now knew to be the mist patrol's outpost, the force returned to her with a vengeance and rey bounded to catch up with her rival, only to reach him just as he boarded his tie. with his and her sabers clipped to his belt. miraculously, the falcon was not far off. rey jumped in and threw all systems into overdrive in order to catch up. but for once, the force was on kylo's side – that or his mind was far clearer. he managed to evade her completely, diving into the transitory mists and out of her reach.

this battle of their was over and she was weaponless. yet on the ground things did not get better. a previously unnoticed transmission from leia had been beeping away, waiting for rey's attention. the first order had sprung upon the resistance's d'qar base, forcing them to abandon it completely. the entire population of the base was now in hyperspace on their way to what they hoped was a viable new location, still to be determined. luke stood by leia’s side, offering advice and support, but they both urged her to abandon the consortium at once and meet them at a soon to follow rendezvous point. that had been five standard hours ago, and there was no second message.

rey turned the falcon toward the mists and began her journey back anyway.

it was only when rey on a strange whim stopped above jakku for no other reason than to stare at it that the second message arrived to meet on batuu. black spire, specifically.

upon arrival, poe and finn met her in a rush and practically carried her back to luke and leia. rey's entire story burst forth without preamble. both the twins' reactions to the name isolder were peculiar, but none more so than leia's. come to find out, leia had previously met isolder under almost equally strange circumstances. but as rey came to the end of her story, silence reigned. continued to reign until rey was half inclined to demand the full details of what happened on d'qar. luke broke the silence first, however, by suggesting the two of them go in search of another crystal with which to build her a second saber. then he turned to his sister. what leia said should not have shocked rey, and yet it did anyway. she suggested returning to hapes and speaking more with isolder – maybe even stepping into the place his daughter should always have had at his side.

true power came not only from the force, leia said, but in other, more surprising places. this could be one of them.

so rey did the only thing she could do: listen.

after a standard month of searching and not-so-patient crafting, a second (still yellow-hued) saber fit perfectly into rey's hands, singing the same song as the first crystal had. soon after she reluctantly boarded an x-wing nursing feelings of dread despite all of the kindest goodbyes she'd been offered. batuu shrunk to a pinpoint behind her, along with the warm force signatures of everyone rey had come to love during her time with the resistance. there was no guarantee she'd ever see them again.

her arrival at the transitory mists was as unwelcome as the first go round, but she made it through the second time with far more skill. unsure what else to do, rey returned to the site of the force fountain and from there picked her way to the hapan military outpost. once again the force left her in a cascading of numbed silence, but enough soldiers remembered rey that her quiet request to speak to the prince was heeded unusually quickly. prince isolder was indeed called and arrived in record time. rey greeted him in embarrassed silence, unwillingly willing to do whatever he asked.

rey didn't remember much after that besides climbing aboard isolder's transport, touching down in a place called ta'a chume'dan and being told she would need to undergo a dna test before anything further. all this in order to be presented with confidence to ta'chume, the prime ruler of the hapes consortium. in a fog, rey went where she was led but barely slept in the room set aside for her, so consumed was she with this new place, new life, and new purpose. 

the next morning, she was informed that the test results had finished calibrating. isolder at last had his answer.

rey really was kira ka djo.

what came after that, only ta'chume would be able to tell her.

*** AUTHOR'S NOTE: this verse is based off of the legendary fic "landscape with a blur of conquerors". while loosely following the beginning story beats of the fic, i've changed many details in order to make the story more my own, although all credit belongs our eternal reylo goddess thea for both the base idea and the inspiration with which to create a verse. this one goes out to you, kylorenvevo. may the force always be with you.

[tiger-moran]

I just got reminded of that time someone requested a Moriarty/Moran fic from me (which I wrote) and then within a short period of time turned out to be a raging aphobe who started not only posting aphobic shit on their main blog but also started an actual """"exclusionist"""" """"ace discourse"""" blog devoted to insulting asexual people (and possibly aromantic people, I can't remember) and invalidating our experiences and oppression, and I'm still thinking about how it was just kind of mind boggling that... you were quite happy to get me to write fic for you for free but then you do this? You know I'm asexual right and you know I've written Moriarty as asexual pretty much all along right? Right?

[amethystina]

a crazy voice in my head tells me that you would write a destiel fanfic. honestly, i would be the first one to wave the flag and shout “woohoo, you can do it! you are amazing! i am here for you!”

I mean. The first post I ever made on this blog, back in November 2012, was a short Supernatural ficlet called Every Last Prayer. And while the Destiel isn't explicitly stated, I view it as a Destiel fic.

So I guess you're not entirely wrong? xD

I just never posted it on AO3 because I wrote it back when I was still very insecure about my writing and was hesitant to share it. Plus that it's so short.

I don't know if I'll ever end up writing a longer Destiel fic, though. I do view Destiel as one of my OG ships but, sometimes, even if I love the source material, I don't always want to write or read fics. And, in the case with Destiel, I don't really have any ideas for fics? Especially since it was years since I watched the show (and I also haven't finished it yet, so there's that >_> )

Adding to that, I have this habit where I often stop reading fics in fandoms I write for. Partly because of lingering insecurities (I'll start comparing my fics to other people's works) but also because my brain is like a sponge and I tend to soak up information left and right without even realising it. And so I'm often worried that I might accidentally steal someone else's idea without even knowing it. Or that I'll be influenced and change my ideas/characterisation because of peer pressure.

Anyhow, point being, I'm not sure I want to stop reading Destiel fics just yet. And so it's safer for me not to write a long fic for that ship xD

My brain works in mysterious ways.

Thank you so much for the support, though, even if a Destiel fic isn't likely to happen xD

[icharchivist]

Lucifer and Sandalphon's love for each other being so strong that they overtake the entire narrative and make it about them is so on brand though. They have irrevocably altered my brain chemistry, I believe they can do that to everything else they set their mind to as well.

SOOOOO TRUE THIS IS SOOO THEM

When the sky is so incredibly blue sometimes i get choked up remembering them. They've even hijacked the sky for me. This is what it is all about.

they're just so so good it drives me insane.

[secondbeatsongs]

Food Crime: Frosty the Slawman

so a while ago, I saw this photo going around on tumblr:

at first, I thought this was photoshopped. I mean, "welcome new man in your life"? that feels like a translation error, or someone being silly on purpose.

but guess what! turns out, Frosty Slaw Man is real!

and soon...he will be mine. let's get cooking

(full disclosure: I crafted this snowman and took notes about it over a year ago. and then, like with many things in my life, I forgot about him, and let him drift into the ADHD void of Things I'm Not Currently Staring At, where object permanence is tentative and largely unrealized.

but here we are! and here he is: the slaw man. it's time to share him with you, so that you can suffer as I have suffered, and/or rejoice in my gelatin creation!)

so this recipe photo originally came from Mid-Century Menu (archive link), a blog that seems like one after my own heart, and which once tried to make the Slaw Man (with not much success; but we'll get back to that)! but it's not just that blog that has copies of this ad. I also found it on reddit, and in a few different places on ebay!

lookit that guy! he's a real guy!

both the reddit post and some of the ebay listings say that this is from 1963 (though I haven't been able to figure out which magazines it was printed in, to confirm this for myself). but in looking this up, I discovered something else fun! there's another version of this ad!

Best Foods is what Hellmann's stuff is called on the west coast, and the "this is no place for second best" thing makes a lot more sense when you consider that the ad was probably made for Best Foods first, and then just reused and rebranded for the east coast

the more you know!

anyway the benefit of finding this alternate ad is that the scan on this image is a lot clearer, and so the recipe is more readable! and in looking at it, I've realized something important:

when Mid-Century Menu tried this recipe, they got an ingredient amount wrong.

when they made their beloved Slaw Man, they had the water amount written down as 1/4 cup, but looking at this scan up close, it is actually 3/4 cup of water! something that might make a significant difference, considering we're working with gelatin!

(there's also another change I want to make compared to what they did, when I do this recipe. but we'll get into that in a sec.)

for now: we begin

so. there's no way I'm making a Slaw Man this large. I am just one person, and considering the ingredients of this, I don't think I'm going to be able to consume that much Slaw.

two entire heads of cabbage? three pounds of cottage cheese, a thing that I don't even like to eat? no. that's a bad idea.

so I'm starting small here and making this 1/3 the size of the original:

2 packets of unflavored gelatin 1/4 cup cold water 1 cup mayo 1 tsp salt 1lb cottage cheese 4 cups shredded cabbage

surely this will result in a reasonable amount of Man

...okay, I started chopping the cabbage thinking it would be easier, but I've given up and pulled out a grater. this is much better! and somehow more violent (affectionate)

the recipe says to soften the gelatin in cold water, and then stir over hot water until it's dissolved. I'm going to assume "stir over hot water" means a double boiler, so let's do that

hmmm, the gelatin is very foamy? it’s melted, but the bottom of the pot feels really....sticky

okay. after a couple minutes more and no change, I’m calling this good enough.

so one thing that others who have attempted this recipe have not taken into consideration is the cottage cheese. you see, the others used normal cottage cheese, but the recipe says to use "cottage cheese, cream style"

I’ll be real, I’m not 100% what that means, since we don’t have that here. but I can take an educated guess! so let’s blend the cottage cheese!

(with an immersion blender. I am not willing to wash an actual blender because of this)

mmm, yes. very smooth

...actually. why isn't all cottage cheese like this? the thing I hate about cottage cheese is the texture, so why isn't it all smooth and creamy like this?? I could eat this!!

a new discovery is made every day in this house.

okay, time to start mixing things together.

ah, frosty. I opened a whole new thing of mayo for you! do you feel special?

(I'd make a "pre-dinner snack?" joke, but sometimes I think I'm the only one that remembers Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time)

okay, the mayo, cottage cheese, and salt have been added to the gelatin. but as this cools, the texture is getting...hmm. less than appealing.

lastly: the cabbage

oh. oh this is not very nice

next it says to pack the "salad" into a one pound container, and two six-cup bowls, but since I made this recipe so much smaller, I'm going to uhhhh. uh. find some bowls that seem like they'd be correct...snowman? proportions?

ah. this bowl is too big.

hey, these'll work!

now I just have to let them chill for a while, and continue another day.

(edit from current!me: ahhh oh my god I forgot this was pretty soon after we adopted Jackie! look at these cat pics that I took while I was food crime-ing!

look at them having their little interactions! Knuckles was trying so hard to be friends with her! I love them)

hello! two days later and we are ready to assemble the slawman. and my sibling has started referring to him as "frosty: attorney at slaw", so that's fun.

I've done a thing where, as these set, I flipped them around in the bowl so that hopefully they'd be more round. we'll see if they actually stay like this.

I have also made some decorations for him out of peppers, olives, and carrots!

let's build our boy

oh he's so heavy. and wobbly

no no no he almost fell over!!

okay. he's fine. but more skewers were needed.

and...okay. he is complete.

behold!

gaze upon my beautiful man!

(he is not structurally sound! he wobbles unsteadily as I rotate him! there are already cracks forming in the gelatin around where his arms are! don't worry about it!)

 now it's time to stab him

and...to devour him

this tastes like...a bland coleslaw? and not even that. it's just sort of a salty, cottage cheese-y cabbage. the ingredients don't combine to become something greater, they simply...sit there. like this.

and the texture is...mmm. it's not a jello kind of texture, but it is a bit squashy in a way that's mildly strange.

it's very creamy once it softens in your mouth.

...I don't like this!

and look! taking just that one chunk from him was enough to destabilize him entirely :(

RIP frosty. now I just have to see if I can eat all of you before you go bad.

(note from current!me: I could not.

 I ate maybe half of him over the course of many days, often adding other stuff to him to try to add some flavor: bacon, frozen peas, cheese, etc. but even with that, I just couldn't stomach him.

after a while I stuck what was left of him in the freezer, hoping that maybe I'd find the will to consume the rest of him some other day.

do you know what a frozen-and-then-thawed mixture of cabbage, cottage cheese, mayo, and gelatin looks and tastes like?

bad. the answer is: bad.

I threw him out pretty quickly after thawing him.

do not try this recipe at home)

[fireinmoonshot]

death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.

One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.

The fact that you hated his guts would be the second. 

He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.

And you had – in the start. 

You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.

To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it. 

But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today. 

You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not interested in going viral?”

You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”

“I didn’t realise you were looking.” 

There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason. 

“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.” 

Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”

You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”

You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are. 

“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”

He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”

The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were. 

“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.” 

“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike. 

“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”

You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?” 

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”

You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers. 

“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.

—

When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler. 

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.

He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you. 

“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.

Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”

Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had. 

It drives Tyler insane. 

The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is. 

The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.

He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.

“You sure that’s all it was?” 

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another. 

He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.  

He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.

—

The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed. 

It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.

Until you learnt about the bet.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.

“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.

“Explain.”

“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”

You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”

She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer. 

Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers.  They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.

“Which direction are we going, then?”

“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.” 

You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…

Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.

“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.

“I’m going to fix this mess!” 

—

Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.

“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God. 

“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”

Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”

“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”

For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you. 

You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?

“Nothing can change your mind?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”

“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”

“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?” 

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”

Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening. 

You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same. 

“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”

He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”

“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler. 

“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat. 

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck. 

You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go. 

“East or west, Owens?”

Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet. 

“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.” 

A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out. 

“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again. 

“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”

You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.

“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.

“Oh, we will!”

—

As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.

He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.

Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.

If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive. 

He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing. 

In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual. 

“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.

“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them. 

Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.

Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield. 

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims. 

Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”

It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size. 

He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.

He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time. 

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.

Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.

He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

—

You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this. 

When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.

You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you. 

And then, it changed course.

“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.

He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.

Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.

You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it. 

The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore. 

The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.

The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom. 

You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline. 

You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead. 

The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it. 

Everything is okay,  you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.

—

By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name. 

Boone is quick to follow him.

Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.

No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.

He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?” 

He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.

“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.” 

Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.

He only hears silence.

—

The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.

You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?

Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain. 

With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.

You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.

“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.

His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”

You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome. 

“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”

“Tyler!” 

He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his. 

“You never call me by my first name.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”

Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive. 

“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”

You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.

The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive. 

“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”

He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment. 

“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.

There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.

Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler. 

“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”

“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.” 

You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”

“Embroidered it myself.”

You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.

“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.

Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.

It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.

Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.

You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully. 

It was something both of you were glad for.

“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused. 

“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being. 

Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”

You snort. “You, classy?”

“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”

Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”

“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”

“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”

He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.

[dianight]

Let's talk about transandrophobia. And by that I mean let me monologue about my findings browsing the tag and checking related blogs.

For context, most of my (second hand) interactions with it are from additions to the posts of transfeminists where random people antagonize them. Also from knowledge about how a certain user who helped popularize the term and gets referenced on posts about it (and other adjacent pawns) just happens to be a piledriver for callouts that just happen to target trans women. So you will excuse me for being biased and not going into this with a naive mindset.

And I will say that I've engaged with this in significantly more good faith than it deserves. My hope was that perhaps most people using the term were doing it out of ignorance and not malicious intent. I haven't really "counted" or done any actual note taking for this, it's more of a general observation that coalesced over a few days after I did all that digging so numbers are rough estimates and not accurate numbers. I checked about 50 pages on both "latest" and "top" on the tag, aswell as checking the recommended blogs.

Ignoring certain users who use the tag to highlight how absurd the mere concept of it is, since it's just mainly one woman having fun(?) cluttering (neutral) the tag and a few others mocking posts about it; we can roughly put the people who talk about transandrophobia in 3 groups. There is potential for overlap and I reiterate, my good faith is going to skew this toward a more positive vision than reality.

The first group are mostly trans men and a few trans women who would define transandrophobia as transphobia targeted at trans men, which is not at all what the term means nor what its history or actual use is. This group was around 30-40% of the posts, but one has to keep in mind that this was from going over the posts with the tag on their blogs. Posts that would talk about their experiences being the targets of transphobia and calling it transandrophobia.

Not to sound condescending, but getting treated differently to your cis peers (before coming out OR even knowing you are trans), pushback against your transition and toward the closet, bureaucratic hurdles and general hostility to being "the other" is not a transmasc exclusive thing and it's in fact "just" transphobia. Even the supposedly unique to trans men experience of having issues with reproductive health... also happens to trans women, it's the general transphobia of medical professionals. It manifests in different ways, that's it.

Most of the transmascs on this group seem to be under the impression that transandrophobia is an analogous term to transmisogyny that simply describes the targeted transphobia to transmascs and transfems respectively. I understand their posts and it was painful to read many of them, but ultimately what they describe is called transphobia. Most of the (few) transfems on this group were making additions in defense/support of trans men on those same previous posts.

That's as good as it gets though. I really hope the 30-40% estimate is real because the alternative is grim, and as a disclaimer I have (over time) blocked a massive amount of those users who go on posts about transmisogyny to start fights. Those hostile users are very likely to use the tag and be part of the second or third groups, which means that accounting for all the people I've blocked the first group percentage is likely to be <30%.

The second group are cryptoterfs. Or alternatively, people with ideas so bioessentialist that they are indistinguishable from cryptoterfs. I have found only two blogs that were openly "gc" and straight up interacting with open terfs, but many of them had their rethoric and semirelated posts all over and sometimes even the recommended blogs would give it away. Possibly 10% of the tag users belong to this group.

The main giveaway beyond the previous ones seems to be a really transphobic view that what trans men experience as transphobia is really just misogyny. So when they experience that misogyny as trans men it's called transandrophobia. Don't ask me what logic this is, but I've seen it repeated on their blogs so whatever is going on in their brains they seem to commonly agree that trans men are "just" experiencing misogyny. The obvious implication always, always being that trans men are women, a very transphobic idea.

There were some users who are part of the previously mentioned overlap. They will have some posts that tangentially allude at that trans men = women idea but never quite reblog or interact or expand those transphobic views. But they would also be part of the third group.

The third group are transmisogynists. No other way to put it. And I don't mean it in the casual way, we are all kind of transmisogynistic due to society and that's it; I mean it in the openly in opposition to transfeminists and actively spreading hateful and harmful rethoric kind of way. More than half the users of the tag are part of this group.

It's a key difference but a very telling one; where the first group talked about their experiences and how they are affected by transphobia (incorrectly labeling it) the third group engages in reactionary behaviors, always blaming/harassing/critizicing transfeminists posts. It's a genuinely weird feeling to see a post you agree with, along the lines of "men benefit from patriachy" and the "critique" from these users being "how dare these [insert misgendering term] insinuate that trans men are oppressing them".

Reading anything in bad faith, calls for "unity" while at the same reblogging from and interacting with known callout spearheads, honestly shocking hostility to trans women all over their posts and a general very open opposition to any transfeminist theory. Like I was genuinely speechless at some of the posts.

Literally calling random trans women transphobic. Screenshots without context to make it seem like the OP is saying the literal opposite of what she was saying. Congratulatory posts about getting people banned. Straight up callouts.

And I was hoping that the first group would be the majority, with a few bad apples and the expected bad actors.

My conclusion is very simple. Stop using the term transandrophobia. It has no good faith uses, what trans men experience is transphobia since misandry is not a real structural force and misogyny is. Most of its users are hostile to and a danger to trans women in this website, and somehow terf rethoric is generally accepted by them.

Transandrophobia doesn't exist.

[fashion-runways]

hiii new pinned post again because the last one was outdated, there are links to the previous ones in that one as well. unfortunately there are no real updates re: my dad's wrongful imprisonment. at this point, they might be waiting until the statutes of limitations happen and it's over, i don't know. he has a therapist who's kind of expensive but we have to pay for and he has to go weekly because of all the trauma he has left from being in jail and from losing his job/not being able to find a new one because of this. his health got worse in there, too, so there are a lot of different doctors he has to go to, medications, etc. he's doing better every day, though, but that takes a lot of money of course.

i used to have a redbubble account that helped me get afloat alongside this blog, but it got suspended without notice and never got reinstated no matter how many things i've tried, so... that's another source of income that we lost. i used to make around 30/40 dollars a month there, now i make like 1/2 dollars on teepublic monthly, that's a huge difference. argentina's economy was always bad but it has been an absolute disaster since the current president got elected. prices rise literally on a weekly basis for everything from basic groceries to public transportation, power, water, phone bills, etc. my laptop's keyboard broke at some point and i almost had to buy a new one with money i literally didn't have, just going into negative numbers, but i managed to find a guy who replaced it for as cheap as he could. it was still expensive, but it was better than having to buy a new laptop entirely. would love to get a stable job, but that's always been impossible in this country, even more so lately. for updates on argentina in english, this person on twitter makes very good informative threads if you're interested.

on top of that my dog passed from cancer a few weeks ago, that was really expensive for us too, meds and appointments and special foods and everything that we could do to keep her happy until it was her time to go, and she was. i also started therapy around the time she was diagnosed (thank god) but my therapist had to rise her rates because of the economy mess i already mentioned, so... yeah. everything is exhausting and everything is expensive, and this is literally my only source of income. it's also the thing that i love doing the most and the thing that keeps me sane in all of this mess, so hey, never leaving. in fact, if anything ever happens to this website, you can always find me under fashion_runways on twitter or probably anywhere else. some of you guys mentioned not seeing my posts lately too, so if you can/want to, you can turn notifications on!

anyway yeah, all that to say i love this blog, i love fashion, and i love showing you guys new cool things and giving you guys ideas for art, or writing, or your own style, or just interesting stuff to look at. so if you can donate any money, that would help me more than you think. even a single dollar can change what i can do with my day sometimes, i swear. as usual, my kofi link: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my teepublic link: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. thanks for being around and sharing and reblogging my posts, thanks for asking questions about fashion, and of course thanks for helping to the ones who can, and thanks to the ones who can't too, i know how that feels like, don't worry about it. i love you 💖

[official-bunbun]

you all asked for more, here you go yall

I have four additional (lower effort) doodles for the concept done cuz god DAMN did yall go nuts over the last post and while im slightly overwhelmed by the attention i am VERY appreciative of it

ANYWAY, TO THE DOODLES & CONCEPT RAMBLES

Firstly, i've decided that the Cosmo player will be able to move, but with a VERY limited range - a similar model to Razzle & Dazzle's vines but with thorns and maybe single thick vines rather than several smaller ones? That would act as how far Cosmo can go, and the place for other players to avoid or else they'll be damaged by Sprout

I also had the thought of maybe, Sprout could heal the Cosmo he takes? But only when he attacks one of the other players - so like a reverse of Cosmo's usual mechanic! One heart healed per player hit, maxing out at 2 hearts since the Cosmo can't get damaged while in Sprout's circle

Speaking of his heals - He wouldn't be able to do so! Even if he's able to reach a player without leaving the circle nor the other person getting damaged, he'll be stopped from using it since healing people damages him

And finally - The cosmo can try to leave, technically. But will be stopped each time up to a point. Eventually, though.. Sprout will become agitated. Why is his friend trying to leave? Why is he abandoning him like this? So, after enough attempts, he'll let him go... but he'll go on a rampage trying to kill everyone in sight. It is INCREDIBLY difficult to outrun him, and he has a very high attention span too. He's P I S S E D.

It is not advised for the Cosmo to try to leave Sprout

There might be a part 3 to this at some point, i dunno yet but we'll see! do you like my ideas and storytelling based on this? you may be interested in the dandy's world ask/story blog i started!

[mydarlingclaudia]

no shirt, no blouse

note : I've only ever written for Leon like, once in my life and no matter how many times I tried to fix it tumblr kept my blog and what I uploaded hidden, this is my third time trying this again so I'm not gonna be too surprised if the same thing happens. I'm sorry if Leon is ooc, this is just a Leon comfort fic

wc : 2k

desc : you taking care of Leon when he comes home from a mission. established relationship, fluff, comfort, Leon being kinda head over heels for you, mentions of injuries, re4r Leon (but not specifically his mission in Spain), pet names (baby), gn!reader, not proofread.

To you, Leon was always sweet.

In the quiet evenings when he'd come home from a mission, that's when his shell would break and he'd let himself rest. When he'd crawl under the covers with you and hold you close to his chest while he laid on his cold side of the bed that the two of you shared, that was when he knew he was officially home. Hearing you talk about how badly you had missed him and how happy you are to have him back as the tips of your fingers lightly run over any cuts on his face was like a dream to him.

His shirts would always smell a little bit like you whenever he came home, so would his pillow, he’d never admit to you that he loved it. By the time that you’d fall asleep, after the two of you ate and you washed his hair for him in the bath, he’d still be awake, despite the late hour. He’d sit and watch your chest rise and fall as you slept, his hands resting on your sides underneath the sweatshirt you slept in, the one you had stolen from him.

He had missed you, you knew that much. He knows that there’s always a possibility that he won’t be able to come home to you, or something that would keep him away from you for much longer than either of you hoped. But no matter how long it took for him to get back to you, or the amount of damage his body had taken while working, you’d always greet him with a smile. You push away all your questions and worries for the next day, content on just having him back in your arms, feeling his heart beat underneath your palm while he holds onto you tightly.

You would never be able to read Leon's mind, you thought it would be difficult to do even if you possessed that kind of power, but when his face softens as he looks at you while you help him wash away his aches and pains, you have a good idea of what's going through his head.

This time is no different.

You're sitting on the edge of your bathtub, combing your fingers through Leon's wet hair while he sits in the warm water. He hadn't said much since he walked through the door, just a simple, "Missed you, love you." You never pushed him to talk too much when he gets home, you just want him to tell you if he's hurt badly, which he hardly ever is.

There are bruises splattered across his body, all in different shades of purple and yellow. There were a few gashes that had been stitched up before he came home to you, thankfully no broken bones, just a few more cuts along his face and arms, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. You knew that the government would do a checkup on him after he finishes a mission, but you liked to look him over again in the odd chance that they missed anything or if he was trying to hide a wound from you.

He still hadn't eaten yet, but you wouldn't let it stay that way for long, you'd let him lay down in bed while you put some food together for the two of you. But he likes to sit in the tub for at least thirty minutes before he either decides he's hungry or the water's starting to cool down, you'd stay with him however long he wanted, though.

Leon shifted slightly in the tub, moving closer to you than he already was to rest his head against your thigh, the water from his hair seeping through your jeans while the soap clung to the fabric. He brought his arm up to rest over your knees, letting more water soak through your jeans while some of it ran down his fingers and onto the bathmat outside the tub. You smiled down at him, one of your hands leaving his hair to run down over the back of his neck and his shoulder blades.

You let your fingers trace over a bruise the size of your fist on the back of his shoulder, pressing against it gently. "How'd you get this one?" You whispered to him, watching as he rolled his shoulder slightly in response to your touch.

"I fell," He murmured against your thigh.

"You fell?" You giggled, letting your hand leave his shoulder and return to his hair while your gaze lingered on a few gashes on his back that had already been stitched up.

"It was raining and I slipped, sorry that I don't have a cool story to tell you." He huffed, nuzzling his face into the side of your thigh as he moved his arm back into the tub and instead let his hand rest on your knee, giving it a light squeeze.

"Do any of them have cool stories?"

"If you think me getting my ass kicked is cool, then yeah, I guess some of them do." You chuckled slightly in response, pulling your hands out of his hair to rinse the remaining shampoo off in the bath water.

"I'll ice your bruises for you later," You offered, bringing the cup you kept in the tub down to the water to fill it. "Tip your head back."

"Too cold," He mumbled softly, detaching himself from your leg and tipping his head back while you moved one hand to cover his eyes as you poured the water over his soapy hair.

"Yeah? You'd rather just let them heal for the next four days instead of three?"

"I can ice them whenever, it's no big deal."

"I get that, I'm just trying to take care of you." You say softly, removing your hand from his eyes and setting the cup of water back on the edge of the tub.

"I know, baby, I know." He quickly reassures you, laying his head back down on your thigh and pressing a kiss to your clothed leg. "It just doesn't need to get done tonight. Thank you, though."

"Yeah, of course." You nod, resting your hand on the back of his neck, letting your thumb trace over the skin that lays there.

"C'mon, let's go lay down." He pressed a few more kisses to the fabric of your wet jeans before he allowed you to stand, grabbing him a towel and holding it out to him as he got out of the tub. Leon dried himself off carefully, his body facing you as you leaned against the bathroom sink, watching him quietly.

Leon moves out of your way as you go to pull out the drain plug at the bottom of the tub, "What do you wanna eat?" You groan out softly as you stand back up, placing the bath plug down next to the cup on the edge of the tub. "If you want, I can make those little kraft mac'n'cheese microwave packages for us."

"Yes, please." He sighs softly as he wraps his towel around his waist, then grabbing you by the shoulders to place a soft kiss on your lips. "Don't take too long."

"I won't," You smile, leaning forward to kiss him gently. The kiss is only a second long, Leon chases after your lips as you pull away before he catches himself and freezes, you give his bicep a slight squeeze as you pull away and open the bathroom door.

You listen to the faint shuffling noises of Leon getting dressed in your bedroom down the hall as you microwave the small, plastic bowls of mac'n'cheese. Leon never asked you to put too much effort into cooking whenever he came home. Cereal, ramen, even just some slices of cheese and pepperoni would be fine for Leon as long as he'd be next to you in bed by the end of the night.

Leon was waiting for you underneath the covers of your shared bed as you entered your bedroom with your small dinner in each hand. He graciously accepts the food you hand to him, resting the hot bowl down on the blanket, watching you intently as you begin to change into your pajamas.

"I missed you," He mumbled to you, his eyes resting on your face as you adjusted your clothes.

"I know, you told me already." You smiled at him, sitting against the pillows on your side of the bed as Leon immediately moved to cuddle into your side.

"Thought you'd like to hear me say it again."

"I mean, I guess," You shrug jokingly, poking at your mac'n'cheese with your fork. Leon snorted slightly and rolled his eyes, leaning against you to press a kiss to your jaw before he began digging at his food.

Leon always watched you while the two of you ate in bed, focusing on the way your lips curled around your fork instead of focusing on the bowl in his hands. His eyes would trail from your lips to your eyes, patiently waiting for you to finish eating so you could pay attention to him again. There wasn’t a tv in your room, so you’d often fill the quiet void by telling him about your day or the things that you had done while he was away. He’d listen intently, even if what you were saying wasn’t all that interesting, he didn’t ask follow-up questions most of the time, instead focusing on the way your lips moved and the sound of your voice. Your days were mostly all the same; work was boring, you missed him, you went on a longer walk than usual and got a new treat from that bakery down the street, Leon loved hearing it all. He’d tell you a little a bit about his recent mission, leaving out most of the parts where he came too close to death, instead telling you about whatever scenery he saw that he deemed good enough for you to like and how well he fought.

Both yours and Leon’s bowls of mac’n’cheese are long finished by now, both of the bowls and forks left to rest on top of your bedside table until you threw them out the next day. You rested your head on his left bicep, tucked in close to his chest while you held his right hand in both your hands, your fingers running over his bruised knuckles. It was eleven, maybe eleven-thirty at night, you were well past tired, but Leon let you keep rambling on.

“I’m really happy you’re home.” You yawned, your grip on his hand and wrist tightening as you curled into him further.

“Me too,” He smiled, pulling your hands closer to his chest, he squeezed your hand back, shifting slightly to let you get more comfortable. “Go to sleep.”

“No,” Leon chuckled softly at the faint whine in your voice, watching as you let go of his hand and wrap them around his back, his hand that you were holding captive finding purchase on the skin of your waist underneath his old sweatshirt that you took as your own.

“I’m gonna be here in the morning,” He whispered as he kissed your forehead, running his hand up and down your side. “Just go to bed, baby. Don’t you need your beauty sleep?”

“Yeah, but I missed you.”

“I know that, I missed you, too. But you also look really tired right now and it’s late.” He squeezed your waist, moving his arm out from underneath your head to wrap around your shoulders. “I could listen to you talk on and on for hours, but right now I wanna fall asleep next to you. We can sleep in tomorrow, I’ll spend all day with you.”

“M’kay…” You yawned again, letting his quiet voice coax you further into your drowsiness. “You’re not hurt too bad?”

“No, you’re a great doctor.”

“Alright,” You nodded, lifting your head slightly to kiss him. “Goodnight.” You murmured against his lips, feeling him smile and run his hand along your spine.

“Sweet dreams, go to sleep now.” He whispered, tucking you back into his chest, feeling your heart beat against his chest as your breathing evened-out, signaling you falling asleep in his arms again.

[caracalla-dondus]

Home Again

Pairing: Sam/reader

Summary: Sam has returned home and spends the night with his partner.

Warnings: light smut but I don't go super into detail when describing it.

Author's Note: I never expected to write for Warfare but here I am. This one is quite short but hopefully once I think of more ideas I'll be able to write longer fics for him. I also think this is my first kinda smutty fic I've posted on this blog. I didn't make it too explicit because I'm not super experienced when it comes to writing smut. Now I have to go and figure out how to post this on Ao3 since Warfare doesn't seem to have a fandom on there yet lol.

Dividers By: cafekitsune

He hadn’t meant to start anything that night.

Not really.

He was newly returned home. He was tired. Sore. Still trying to remember how to simply relax. To breathe without checking corners. Still healing from his injury. But the second your fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt to rest against his warm skin, he forgot every reason to wait.

He kissed you like a man starved. Not just for your mouth or your skin, but for the way you sighed his name. The way your nails dragged lightly down his skin. The way you looked at him like he hadn’t changed, even though he felt like he had.

You pulled him onto the bed, legs tangled, mouths never quite parting. His hands gripped your hips like he wasn’t sure if you were real or just something his brain had conjured in a fevered moment of hope overseas.

“Missed you,” he rasped against your neck, voice cracking from more than just want. “Didn’t think… fuck, I didn’t think I’d get back to this.”

You cupped his face, kissed his forehead, kissed his lips. “You’re here now,” you whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Clothes came off slowly, reverently. His gaze never left you, even when his hands were busy memorizing the curves he hadn’t touched in too long. There was hunger in his touch, yes, but more than that, there was awe. Like he couldn’t believe he got to have this again. Got to have you again.

When he slid into you, his breath caught, his forehead pressed to yours as if that closeness could protect him from every memory clawing at the edges of his mind.

He didn’t rush.

Even with weeks and months of wanting and desire behind him, Sam moved like this was sacred. Your sweaty skin touching his. His lips brushed your cheek, your throat, the shell of your ear. And when you whispered his name, just a soft, trembling “Sam”, he shuddered like it broke something open inside him.

You held him through it.

Even as his rhythm faltered with the weight of emotion, even as he buried his face in your neck to catch the tremble in his breath, you never let go. You just clung tighter. Met him with every movement, every desperate kiss.

When it was over, he didn’t move. Just held you, skin pressed to skin, letting the silence wrap around you both.

And when you reached up to gently caress his buzzed hair, he caught your hand in his.

“I don’t want to sleep,” he said hoarsely.

“Why?”

“Because if I wake up and this was a dream, I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

You kissed his chest, right over his heart. “It’s not a dream. I’ll still be here when you wake up. Just like I am now.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just kissed the top of your head, pulled you closer, and let himself believe you.

That night, Sam didn’t sleep because he was exhausted. He slept because he was safe with you in his embrace.

[foodfightnovelization]

ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight

Holy chips! It's an exciting time to be a Foodfight! fan, because ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight is finally out! This really is THE definitive documentary on the insanity behind the movie, and it finally answers the question of just what was going on behind the scenes during production. Since I helped out with research (and I even get a short line of dialogue at 45:19) I've already seen everything that was shown off, but had to keep quiet until all the interviews were conducted and the documentary was finished. But now it's out and everything has been made public, the cat's out of the bag (the Fat Cat Burglar?) and I can talk about all the production material that's been shared.

Before I get into any of that though, I'd highly recommend you watch the documentary for yourself. It's insanely well researched and put together, and having worked together with Ziggy Cashmere (the documentary's creator) I know how hard he dedicated himself towards making this all possible. If it weren't for him, the most interesting Foodfight! discovery would've been finding the novelization, and we would have never gotten any real insight into how this movie came to be. It's also a documentary that really speaks for itself- I don't want to say too much about what it reveals since it's all expressed far better through its narrative and the interviews with people who actually worked on the project. My favorite is the interview with texture artist Mona Weiss- she tells such horrifying stories about how she was treated by Larry and other crewmembers, yet does it all with a sense of humor that makes it clear she's enjoying getting to talk about her crazy experiences. It's clear Foodfight! was an unmitigated disaster from start to finish, and there's nobody to blame for that but Larry Kasanoff himself. The movie was rotten from the top down and despite the countless talented animators and artists working on it, nothing could fix the fact that it was fundamentally mismanaged in the worst way possible. I think the quote from producer George Johnsen summarizes it best: "Foodfight! was a good idea that unfortunately lost its way during production. The technology, the art, and the direction were not in sync. Many very talented people gave their all to make the picture, but more understanding of process from the top was needed for it to succeed."

But if you saw the documentary, you already know all that, right? So instead, let's talk about the behind-the-scenes material that's finally been shared! You can find everything I'll talking about HERE on archive.org-

It's worth following the link and checking it out for yourself- there's so much it'd impossible to discuss everything. Artwork, storyboards, bloopers, models, a nude render of Lady X, an interview with Larry Kasanoff, the list goes on and it's still being updated! Despite the documentary already being out, people who worked on the movie are continuing to share new material! It's pretty incredible- for the past year I've ran this blog all I've really had to discuss are two tie-in books, and now there's so much Foodfight! material I can't even keep up with it.

I mean LOOK at all this, isn't it fantastic? The character art by Jim George showing off just how much better these designs originally were, the countless environments showing off just how stunning Marketropolis could've looked as well as the strength of the core idea "what if a supermarket came to life at night", and insanely detailed storyboards for a 7-minute pitch reel that was used to sell the movie to investors. Normally, I'd be ALL OVER this because it's all just incredible, but there's something far, FAR more fascinating than any of it.

There are even multiple drafts of the script (one from 2005 and one from 2007 respectively) and normally I'd be insanely fascinated by those too, making extremely detailed posts explaining the differences between the drafts and how they compare to the novelization, but there's something else that was found that blows ALL of this out of the water and is easily one of the most monumental lost media discoveries of ALL TIME.

That's right, a rough cut of the ENTIRE movie from 2005 has been found, containing nearly ALL the completed animation from earlier on in production. I mean, that's mindblowing right? We first got sent this around a month ago, a little while before the documentary came out, and I literally stopped everything I was doing at work to just sit and watch this. This is the closest we're ever going to get to the "original" version of Foodfight! after all- only 7 minutes of footage was ever actually made before they switched to mocap, made solely for the aforementioned pitch reel, and this workprint contains practically all of it! On top of that there are some great storyboards in here, as well as some truly hilarious ones cobbled together from 3D renders, and the plot is far better than what we ended up with, a lot of the more inappropriate jokes being absent. This rough cut is actually pretty similar to the novelization in that regard, and it also contains scenes that we'd previously only read about in there.

For example, in the novelization there's a snowmobile chase through the mountains, with Brand X soldiers on snowmobiles and a heavy avalanche close behind. This scene was completely left out of the movie itself, but in this workprint it's here! ALL the previously novelization-exclusive scenes are included, and this rough cut is seemingly based on an even earlier draft of the script than that- here Brand X are still defeated by a flood, whereas by the time of the novelization it'd been changed to a lightning storm. There are SO many exciting differences in this workprint, the snippets of original animation we get to see are SO good, and it's SO much better than the movie itself that I think it by far deserves the crown as the DEFINITIVE version of Foodfight! There's so much in it I want to discuss, that there's no way I can fit it all into this one post...so stay tuned, because in the next few days I'll be doing a FULL analysis of the 2005 workprint, pointing out all the extra brand mascots not in the finished film, and generally just gushing about how amazing it is.

I mean, this is it. Just take it all in for a second- the original footage was considered lost media for over a decade, and now it's practically been found in its entirety, embedded in an early cut of the whole movie...isn't that just phenomenal? All the mysteries have been unraveled, all the questions have been answered, and now we can relax, take a deep breath, and watch Foodfight!...the REAL Foodfight! Make sure to enjoy it, and join me next time for my analysis!

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Oh my God I'm such a twilight girlie you write him so good!!! Like I'm a blushing mess here giggling kicking feet the whole nine yards. Also making him thic is such a accurate power move 🤭🤤 one of these days I'd love to hear all your thoughts on the different 🍆 sizes for the links I just know it'd be glorious until then I shall devour all your writing repeatedly while imagining hot blondes (your four rut one is my absolute favorite I must confess)

Anon you flatter me!!

Hyrule: 4.9 inches. Now, before you come at me in the comments for making our fairy prince smaller than Four, hear me out: like I've said before, and continue to say, penis size is heavily affected by both genes and external factors, and even a slight discrepancy in either one can had mixed outcomes. 'But Fyre, we came here for sin, not a biology lesson!!', some of you may gripe, but I promise there's method to this madness. Ever since starting his first adventure at the ripe age of 9 or 10, Hyrule has been on constant alert because of 1) the literal cult trying to steal his blood to reincarnate a giant pig man and 2) the fact that his world is quite literally a wasteland with minimal food/tainted water/and all sorts of other nasty things. I can't even imagine the stress he was under during those frankly crucial developmental years, so it's highly likely that his body just... didn't fully develop due to a combination of him not getting enough to eat/drink and being on the run for most of his life (i.e lots of stress + probably a horrific sleep schedule). Moreover, both of these factors are what's known as endocrine disruptors, which can heavily affect mental and physical growth.

But now onto the dick-cannons: while he may not be the largest or thickest, I like to think Hyrule has a pretty good handle on what he's doing regardless*. Definitely not circumcised, considering his background (someone please tell him how to wash).

*(I once saw a headcannon that Hyrule probably used sex as a form of payment when things got tough, which I think is very underrated and absolutely true.)

Four: 5.5 inches. So I DEFINITELY did too much research on Four's, but I think y'all need to hear this. While I love the headcannon about Four's dick being 4 inches because his name is quite literally 'Four', I'm not sure anyone has tried to tackle this conundrum with his heritage in mind. Typically, penis size is influenced by parental genes, the person's own unique genes, and a combination of other external factors. For Four, we know for certain that he has Hylian parents, BUT he's also part Minish because of the events of Minish Cap. The Minish are typically described as anthropomorphic mouse people, so we can comfortably use mice as the basis for this genetic addition. Now, mice typically have a penis size of 10% of their body length (tip of nose to base of tail), which would concurrently put Four at 0.458333333 in feet, or 5.5 inches.

Dick-canons: probably circumcised. He's got the vibe of being pretty unassuming, but then he whips it out and everything suddenly makes sense. Balls* are on the bigger side (BREED), but no one's complaining.

*(Have you seen mice balls?? They're fucking [tee hee] massive. View at your own risk, but I couldn't have stopped the idea of Four like this if I tried. Yes yes I know this is a rat, but close enough!)

Wild: 5.6 inches. This one was probably the most difficult, because Wild's just... an average guy*. He doesn't have any non-Hylian transformations or crazy evolution history under his belt (tee tee), so all that really leaves is his height–which isn't a truly reliable measure of penile length, BUT we take what we can get in this blog–and background. It's somewhat implied that his father was a knight/someone who worked for the kingdom, which means he and Warriors were likely raised in very similar situations, though Wild's likely was a bit more stressful. For one, he pulled the Master Sword from its pedestal at the ripe old age of 12, and was immediately shipped off to guard Princess Zelda while she attempted to awaken her powers. While not as extreme as Hyrule's backstory, this is still a great deal of pressure for a child who arguably had a very peaceful life before finding the Master Sword, but I don't think he suffered any developmental conditions; even with the stress of finding out you're the Hero of Hyrule before you even finish puberty, it's reasonable to assume that Wild was physically cared for by the royal family, if only for the fact that his destiny was to defeat Ganon. Not just that, but there's the whole other issue of being stuck in a shrine for 100 years after dying; I'm no doctor, but that doesn't sound like favorable conditions for anyone. Obviously, the shrine heals him, but is that all it does? It's a well-known fact that water isn't good for skin**, especially considering he laid in it without moving for a century, so it's hard to imagine how his dick looked after the bath to end all baths.

Dick-canons: it glows– assuming he actually does have a penis, it's fairly average looking. Probably circumcised for military/cleanliness reasons, but he does have a very lovely vein running up the side of the shaft that always looks like it's about to pulse out of his dick. He should probably get that check out. Average sized balls, maybe a bit on the small side due to 100 years of cold water exposure.

*(I'm just going to come out and say this: all the Links are, at their core, average guys. Twilight was a goat herder. Time may or may not have been birthed by a tree and raised by tree people. Hyrule is just a simple traveler. Wind wasn't even chosen, he just wanted to save his sister. That's why they're so likable... they're not born special, or heroic, or anything. They're just dudes. Regular, selfless, boring, amazing dudes. Anyways enjoy the rest of my insanity.)

**(Is it wrinkly? Dried up? Completely and totally detached?? Laying in water for even a few days can cause severe medical complications, such as open sores, loss of skin elasticity, bacterial and fungal infections, and tissue decomposition. Cold water can temporarily slow the effects of decomposition because of adipocere formation, which is a phenomenon in which a waxy substance forms over the skin as a byproduct of fat decomposition, but not for 100 years. By this logic, Wild shouldn't be on this list because he shouldn't have a dick.)

Legend: 6 inches. Y'all already know where this is going. Unlike his successor, Legend didn't begin his first adventure until the age of 12, and lived a fairly stable life before hand thanks to his Uncle. This means that there likely wouldn't be too many developmental factors to worry about in determining the dick-cannons, so now we must turn to his rabbit-ifying encounter from his first adventure. I'm going to use the eastern cottontail rabbit (Sylvilagus floridanus) for this example because they're one of the most widely studied/available rabbit species. Now, cottontails typically reach 14-19 inches in length, but I'm going to go with 20 inches for Legend because he is CHONK, and also 20 is a lot easier to do math with. Keeping this in mind, WikiVet has informed me that rabbit penises can range from 20 to 45 mm in length. I'm going with 45 mm (4.5 inches) because he's a big boy and I also want him to have a big dick, so, when paired with the 20 inch body length, you'll find that approximately 8.86% of a rabbit's length is dick. Now that we know dick-to-body ratio, all that needs to be done is put that against Legend's height of 5'6", which leaves us with 5.8476 inches, but I added an extra 2 in to account for the fact that he is also hylian. It just feels right.

Dick-canons: Definitely a good choice if you're not sure what you want; bunny boy has many talents. Definitely has some breeder balls*, and I firmly believe he's curved just right for maximum pleasure. Probably circumcised because of his uncle, but he's secretly glad because it means he doesn't have to clean it like he would if he wasn't.

*(Yup, we're doing this again. Scientifically, rabbits have some of the highest sex drives of any animal, and are capable of breeding six hours after giving birth [WTF], which means this absolutely applies to Legend. He is never not down for a fuck.)

Sky: 6.3 inches. Prepare yourself because this one is very speculative. So, Sky was born on Skyloft, a set of islands in the sky. He was trained as a knight for most of his life and had a generally very peaceful life, so no endocrine disruptors or developmental discrepancies to worry about. Moreover, we know he started his journey at seventeen, which means he's at the tail-end of development. Now, instead of turning to some type of animal encounter, I'll turn to his Hylian heritage to answer this conundrum. I doubt there's anything out there with Skyloft's exact elevation, but it does appear to be a decent few thousand feet above the cloud barrier, which I've discovered are most likely altocumulus clouds, which typically form at an elevation between 6,000 to 20,000 feet. To calculate this, I watched a Skyward Sword gameplay video and determined that, in-game, it takes approximately 1:02.87 to reach the surface, and, assuming Sky/Link, is going at terminal velocity (the fastest an object can go while in motion, which happens to be 120 mph for belly-to-earth skydiving), this would put Skyloft at a roughly 7,544.4 foot elevation, which aligns with the altocumulus cloud prediction. There are only so many places on Earth that match such a high elevation, but I'm going to choose the Himalayas (which are inhabited by the Tibetan people, which are already known to have more capillaries and a more specialized hemoglobin function due to living in higher altitudes) as our comparer-region. Using this information, we can safely assume that Skyloftians, though fictional, who evolved in a very similar environment, may exhibit some similar traits to the modern-day Tibetan people.

While researching, I also discovered an incredibly interesting phenomenon called "airplane boners", which is a scientific occurrence where changes in pressure can cause erections (i.e. flying on a place), and decided that this would be perfect fuel for my scholarly degeneracy, which leads me to my next point: Sky has a big dick as an evolutionary response to what is colloquially known as the 'airplane boner'. Not convinced? Let me explain. When a penis is erect, arteries in the pelvic/penile region dilate to allow for greater blood flow, which thus increases the size of the penis itself. Now, imagine being at a high elevation for your whole life, surrounded by people whose ancestors have never lived anywhere else. I firmly believe that Skyloftians are well-endowed as an evolutionary response that allows the sustainment of larger blood vessels as a sort-of defense against high air pressure. Natural selection favors these traits because they ultimately lead to reproduction, which is the single-most important characteristic of evolution. 6.3 inches was a bit of an educated guess, but I believe that because the people of Skyloft evolved in a closed high-altitude ecosystem, it's entirely reasonable for Sky to be THICC because his body has a adapted to handle a greater hemoglobin factor and increased vascular capacity, likely in the penile region.

Dick-canons: due to the blood-vessel evolution, Sky's dick is likely thicker than average, with some very visible veins running up the sides; so many that it likely makes his dick appear incredibly flushed when erect. Contrary to what some of you may think, I don't think he has large balls, because it is likely more advantageous to have a smaller scrotum to combat the elements/conserve heat. So no breeder balls for him, but that doesn't mean he can't breed you just as good ;)

Twilight: 6.8 inches. I feel like this goes without saying, but he's a country boy. He's hung. Twilight grew up in Ordon, a close-knit community where everyone takes care of everyone, which means he most definitely had a very good childhood. Like some of the others, I see no reason to bring up developmental challenges due to being chased by a cult or some similar bullshit, so we're going to skip right to his transformation of a wolf at the beginning of his journey. Contrary to Legend and Four, I do not believe that this transformation affected him significantly in terms of penis appearance/size. Twilight was 17 when his adventure began, which means he already is at the end of physical development from a biological standpoint, and, in Linked Universe, his tattoos appear to be the only true physical mark on his hylian body, so it's safe to assume that we don't need to take this into consideration. Now, some of you may say: "Fyre, but your theories were so crazy for the other ones and now you're saying Twilight's hung because he's country??" Yes. Yes, I am saying that.

BUT.

There's a pretty solid theory running around that Twilight is a very small part Gerudo, due to Talon (Malon's father) having married/banged a Gerudo woman in secret. In LOZ, it's fairly obvious that the Gerudo are supposed to emulate modern-day Middle Eastern culture, which a study by the National Institute of Health states have an average penis length of 14.34, or 5.6 inches. Obviously, this is nowhere near 6.8, but this is also a race of mythical female warriors, so everything's a little skewed. However, in every iteration we see of the Gerudo, they're always tall, somewhat aggressive, and visibly muscled, which are all indicators of above-average levels of testosterone. This is highly important because, in addition to being required to build muscle mass, testosterone is heavily responsible for penis growth during puberty, meaning that Twilight could very well be the way he is because of this naturally-increased testosterone production (i.e why he's so visibly muscled compared to the other Links), plus an assumed more efficient vascular system due to his heritage. Adding on to this, Twilight likely already has booming levels of testosterone due to his very physical, very labor-intensive occupation as a rancher, plus the fact that he's in the prime of his life. In short, he's doing everything right: he eats well, works out, and has fairly decent emotional and mental health, all of which can be correlated with optimal penile development.

Dick-canons: Breeder balls to the MAX. All that extra testosterone has got to go somewhere, and it ain't his head. Fairly girthy, so prep is a necessity. Has one big vein right under the head that honest-to-god throbs when he's turned-on. Probably not circumcised because Ordon is fairly closed-off and I can't see them as being sticklers for that.

Warriors: 7 inches. While height isn't directly correlated with dick size, it is reasonable to assume that Warriors would be a bit higher on the list because of this, as well as his overall health in comparison to Hyrule and/or Legend. It's hinted that Warriors was raised in a very military-esque lifestyle, so it's not a surprise that he wouldn't have any true developmental setbacks in terns of penile length. Now, that doesn't mean we can't analyze the reasons why he's like this. Being raised in a militant environment means he was fed appropriately, participated in training regularly, and was likely taught stress-regulation habits (does he use them? no, but at least he knew them during his developmental years). Like Twilight, increased muscle mass is typically linked to elevated testosterone levels, and since Warriors has been training his whole life, it's reasonable to assume that these factors had a positive impact on his penile development. He and Twilight are very similar in this regard, except Twilight's size comes a bit more from favorable, wack genetics, though they both make sure to take care of themselves. However, Warriors is shown to be somewhat vain in Linked Universe canon (to the point that the other heroes have a running joke on it), which means it shouldn't be put past him to try more... under-the-table methods to ensue his 'perfection' reaches all aspects of his body, dick absolutely included. I'll leave it up to y'all on whether it's actual herbal/medical enhancements or sheer force of arrogance, but it's still a fun thought!

Dick-canons: Definitely circumcised (if not, definitely obsessed over keeping that shit squeaky clean). He's not as girthy as Twilight or Sky, but it'll definitely feel like he is from the way he wields it* during the deed. Doesn't have the biggest balls, but they'll definitely smack against any ass he can get his hands on.

*(There's a lot of speculation on whether Warriors is a manwhore or not, but I believe he's got experience. Definitely not in relationships, but one-night stands? Tavern hook-ups? He's done more of those than he's [un]willing to admit, but when it's someone he honestly, truly cares about? Slap a blush on him and call him a virgin, because he sure acts like it!)

Time: 7.3 inches. I saved the best for last. I want to preface this by saying that Time is HUGE, so obvious he's got to have a bitchbreaker in those britches, right? Right? Not exactly, because the version of Time we see in Linked Universe is the 'second' version; the one who got sent back in time by Zelda for Majora's Mask. This is HUGELY relevant because, honestly? Time likely took terrible care of himself over the course of Ocarina of Time, or at least somewhat neglected his needs in favor of completing his quest. Then, when he was sent back to being 12 years old in a new timeline by Zelda (Majora's Mask), you cannot convince me that he didn't have a major epiphany on how to actually take care of himself now that he was literally given another chance to get it right. He still trains, hard, but also knows his limits and, for the first time in his new life, he actually makes a point to start eating vegetables and drinking milk*, which give him all the essential nutrients to bridge the gap between surviving and living, especially during these crucial developmental years. Time genuinely makes an attempt to try. For himself, this time. And it pays off in the form of that fat-ass cock ;)

Dick-canons: a true bitchbreaker that will rail you six ways to Sunday. Not circumcised (bro was basically birthed by a tree), and definitely has breeder balls; he basically acts like he's in rut, and Twilight's got to get that trait from somewhere. Probably pretty veiny, like his hands (HNNNN), with just the slightest curve that'll have him hitting all the right spots.

*(Lon Lon milk all the way, my good readers.)

And, of course, I had to consult google:

[e-vay]

See, with this newly revealed information for Sage and Aurora's friendship, love it btw, how did Shadow and Aurora's first date go? Who asked who? Where did they go?

I'm so happy to hear you're a fan of the Luminescent Ladies! 🤩 The first date was very casual, but a hit! Shadow is the one who asks Aurora out and they go to a café and end up spending hours together.

Since I've never fully written out the full Shadora story, bits and pieces of it exist here on my blog but sometimes the details change. But here's a very rough version of how I envision their first date going:

(If you're familiar with my story, you can skip the text in blue)

Shadow has spent the last several decades taking odd merc jobs in deep space in the hopes that he'll run into the woman he fell for years ago, but he never finds her. Rouge eventually convinces him to head back "home," and since he's never failed a goal before he decides he has to replace it with a new one: Get to know and enjoy the planet Maria always wanted to visit. So he heads back and that's where he meets Aurora (she does not know him yet, as she meets him later in her life via time travel). He's pretty certain Aurora is the woman who saved him years ago, but since she doesn't seem to know him he thinks maybe she's been reincarnated or something, he isn't sure. He wants to know her better and find out.

Since Shadow's new goal is to better acquaint himself with the planet he abandoned decades ago and since Aurora knows her hometown like the back of her hand, the two decide that she will be his guide (his 'guiding light' if you will 😉 ) around town. (Shadow doesn't need one. He's the ultimate life form; he's plenty fine exploring on his own. But he considers this an opportunity to do some recon to get to know her better). It mostly starts fairly professional even though Aurora does flirt with him a lot (she can't help it, just look at him!) but Shadow quickly becomes fond of her, and he decides he wants to pursue her romantically.

As they are going to bid each other goodbye after one of their tours, Shadow asks "You have a recommendation for every kind of activity in this town, correct?"

A: "Yeah! What is it you're looking for next?"

Sh: "Something... romantic, but humble. Where one might go for a first date."

And at first Aurora is internally thinking "Dang, so he is interested in somebody." But she dismisses that thought because it's none of her business who Shadow spends his time with.

She's gotten to know him a bit by now so as she's pondering ideas she's taking into consideration that he doesn't like loud, busy scenes and would likely enjoy somewhere more intimate, and she remembers him mentioning that he likes coffee. So she suggests this quaint little café that's on the edge of town.

He says "Very well" and surprises her by taking her hand and asking "Would you accompany me there tomorrow afternoon?"

She's shocked but enthusiastically agrees. He offers to "pick her up" at her house so they can go together, but since even as an adult Aurora still lives at home with her parents, she knows that if Sonic answers the door he will be very wary and likely follow them to see what's going on. She doesn't want the date to go awry before it's even happened lol So she convinces Shadow that she'll just meet him at the café.

Aurora is VERY nervous as she has basically no experience dating. She's only had a "boyfriend" once when she was a very little kid and that was really more of just a crush when she was too young to be dating anyway. She also has no idea why Shadow would be interested in her because she thinks she's pretty boring compared to him. (She even briefly thinks "Oh no, what if this is a prank!?")

But upon meeting him at the café he makes it very clear this is a date, bringing her flowers and being a real gentleman by getting her chair for her and all that jazz. Initially she is super self-conscious but Shadow quickly makes her feel really giddy (Ex: SH: "Wow, you look-" A: "Too bright?! I can tone it down! I just have to bend the light to make my clothes darker-" SH: "I was going to say 'lovely'. Please, don't dull your light for me." A: *Can't help but glow more*)

She very quickly gets swept off her feet haha.

They end up losing track of time and even continue to hang out on the outdoor patio after the place has closed and enjoy the sunset together. Before he gets the chance, Aurora over-enthusiastically asks if Shadow would like to have a second date with her and he warmly says yes.

-----

For the record, I'm always open to y'all's ideas of how Shadow and Aurora's first date would go down. If you want to write your own version of their date and it's completely different, I'd still love to read it :)

[pokemonshelterstories]

Hi, love the blog!

I don't think you've written about this before (if you have you can just ignore it), but is it okay to use ancient pokeballs for catching pokemon in this day and age? Some context: I recently found a journal from my great-grandmother while helping my grandparents downsize, and she had copied the crafting recipes for multiple items from another family member's journal, who copied from a different family member who lived in Hisui not long after Jubilife Village was fully built (apparently meticulous notes runs in the family lol). According to my grandmother, she kept the recipes for posterity, but no one since that first family member has had any interest in using the recipes.

I've decided to try my hand at making these Hisuian pokeballs, just to see if I can do it. A buddy of mine has an apricorn tree that he said I could get apricorns from, and my rock-loving nephew's already found tumblestone deposits during our weekly nature walks. I even bought some tools to get started. If this works out, I'd even like to use the pokeballs to catch a pokemon of my own if I can (I've never had one before).

My question is if there's a downside to using them in the modern day. Obviously there'll be some technological features missing, but it'd be fine to use the Hisuian pokeballs, right?

Also, a bonus question: if I can use the Hisuian pokeballs, do you have any suggestions for pokemon to catch? I like the idea of having a crafting buddy to work with me (I live in an apartment in Unova if that helps).

Thanks!

yes, you can! these pokeballs are still made today by heritage craftsmen like kurt of azalea (though i think his granddaughter recently took over the business?)

they're perfectly safe to use if they've been made properly and are well cared for. however, it's highly recommended to have the apricorn-based pokeball shell fitted with modern storage system chips. these are cheap to get- i think my sibling pays about 1500 poke for a pack of 100 of them, and installing them isn't too difficult from what i hear. this will give you access to the international pokemon storage system on that pokeball.

they function pretty much the same as mechanical pokeballs, but they do require more maintenance. i purchased one as a souvenir once, and i was told to apply an abrasion- and weather-resistant coating every couple of years if i planned to actually use it for a pokemon. apricorns are naturally very durable, but getting thrown around on a regular basis takes its toll.

i can't really recommend a pokemon for you with just these details, but if this is your first, just make sure that you really know what you're getting into before you catch a pokemon! unova has some great pokemon, but not all of them are suited for your first time raising a pokemon, and you also need to make sure whatever pokemon you catch is allowed in your apartment and can be comfortable living there.

[mavsstar]

𝑀𝑦 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎

Summary ︱Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much.

Pairings︱Mechanic!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Fem!Reader, Robert Pronge x Innocent!Fem!Reader

W.C︱4k

Warnings︱18+ MINORS DNI, Trailer Park AU, it's pretty tame for right now, pet names (Sweet Pea),cursing, reader is scared of Pronge, masturbation (m!) and I think that is all the warnings. Let me know if I missed any!

Author's note︱I am very excited for this series :) This is set around the 90s just because I feel like it fits better with the idea I have going on in my head. It has been awhile since I've written anything so I'm hoping it's not too terrible. I hope you will enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated! Follow my side blog and turn on post notifications :D

“Did you see Mr. Levinson today?” your Mother’s friend, Valerie, asked while wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Nope,” you instantly responded. “Have you?” 

“Already got my dose of that sexy man.” She smirked while winking at you. 

Ari Levinson towered everyone he’s ever met. He stood at a proud 6'6. It was hard to miss the luscious brown locks that fell over his face and the cerulean blue eyes that you could never find your way out of. His beard adorned his jaw and hid the pump rose colored lips he held.

Even when he was doused in motor oil and dirt he was still a beautiful man. He was your neighbor and very well known at the trailer park. Ari was a woman’s walking wet dream come to life. 

“He’s already up?” you asked as your eyes bulged out of your head. “It’s like 6 in the morning.” 

“Of course he’s up, he’s having his morning coffee.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Only you would know that stalker.”

“It’s not stalking Y/N, it's called being an astute observer,” she retorted. “That’s besides the point, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?” 

“I should be but…” you started to answer, looking out the window cautiously, “I have a feeling you know who is outside.”

“If you don’t leave now you’ll be late for work which by the way is in 20 minutes,” she reminded you, pointing towards the clock. 

“Please don’t remind me.” You internally groaned as you threw your head back and rubbed your eyes. 

After a few moments you finally decided to lift yourself from the couch and head your way out. Goosebumps arose on your arms as you opened the front door. You hated this kind of weather, you couldn’t be without a sweater in the morning but by 3pm you’d be sweating like a dog. You shrugged on your brother's jacket, not bothering to zip it up and closed the front door.

Just as you predicted, the person you dreaded seeing most was standing right outside, Mr. Pronge. 

Robert Pronge was your neighbor and lived right across from you. Ever since you moved in he formed the bad habit of staring at you and hitting on you like there’s no tomorrow. From what you heard he was a sick sadistic bastard who liked to torture girls with pleasure. He’s had many lovers enter the trailer but seemingly none of them come back.  

You didn’t like the way he makes you feel. It felt like a hungry lion stalking its predator, ready to pounce at any moment’s notice. At the same time you couldn’t help but feel hot. Everytime he was near you, your heart raced from the fear and you felt a pulse in between your legs. 

“Morning Princess!” Mr. Pronge called out from his front lawn.

“Good morning Mr. Pronge!” You greeted back but only to be polite. You tried to avoid looking too much at him and instead looked towards the ground. 

You heard shoes beating against the ground and you prayed with all your heart that it was someone else running. Luck was not on your side that morning. When you looked up it was the one and only Mr. Pronge. 

“Where are you going Princess?” he asked. His breath was minty fresh even though his appearance would say otherwise. 

“To work,” you bluntly replied, trying to open your car door. 

“Aw Princess, don’t be like that,” he cooed. Once you did get your car door open, he immediately slammed it closed, almost smashing your finger in the process. “I’ll give you a ride. Come on, let's go.” 

“I appreciate the offer Mr. Pronge but I can take myself,” you insisted while attempting to reopen your car door. 

“Princess…” he warningly said.

Mr. Pronge didn’t like it when people told him no. The word no did not exist in his world. 

“I said I’ll give you a ride.” 

“Leave her alone Robert!” Ari yelled from his porch, causing the both of you to turn around. “She’s probably late for work!” 

Mr. Pronge sighed as he stepped back in defeat. “I’ll take you next time Princess.” 

You internally groaned at his comment. He could never leave you alone. Every morning he would play this game with you. On the bright side, you were one of the very few people allowed to tell him no and get away with it. 

“Thank you Mr. Levinson!” you yelled as you got in the car. 

“Anytime!” Ari walked over to Robert after you drove off. Though his eyes never peeled off from you the entire time. 

“You’re always in my way,” Robert playfully commented. 

Ari chuckled at the jab. Ari always had to save you from him every morning without fail. “Rob, how many times have I told you to leave the poor girl alone?” He asked as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips. 

“I will never leave her alone,” he answered with a proud smirk. “Not until I make her mine.” 

“Oh please! You’re old!” Ari jabbed at him. “She’s going to want a hot 20 year old guy not some 40 year old.” 

“Her father was not present in her life.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?!” Ari asked, confused at Robert’s statement.

“The girl has major daddy issues, Ari,” Robert said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All I gotta do is caress her a bit, say sweet nothings in her ear and bam! She will fall in love with me.”

“Do that and she will call the cops on you.” 

“I’d like to see her try,” Robert remarked as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Besides, why do you care?” 

“Because her mother is really starting to get concerned and-” 

“Oh that's why you’re concerned!” Robert hooted. “You want to fuck the mom!” 

“I do not want to have sex with her mom,” Ari declared with a serious tone. “The woman is stressed enough and I feel bad for her and I feel bad for the girl. I see her peek her head out of the door every morning to avoid you.” 

“Ari?” 

“Yes Rob?” 

“Mind your business.” 

The following morning was the same dreadful routine. You were trying to stall, not wanting to face Mr. Pronge though you knew he would be there. He always was. Even when you would try to leave at an earlier time. It’s like he would sleep there and wait for you. 

 Your mother shoved your car keys in your hand. “Sweetie, you need to go now before you’re late.”

“But what if he’s out there?” you asked with a slight hint of fear. 

“Is he still bothering you?!” she questioned, her overprotectiveness coming out. “I’ve had enough, I’m going out there.” 

“No! No! No!” you instantly said, jolting your hands out to stop her from taking another step. “Please don’t say anything. Mom please!” 

Your pleads were granted. She stayed still as she squinted at the window, sending a silent threat to Mr. Pronge.

“Fine,” she said. “But If I hear or even get the feeling, I’m going to rip his nutsack and his stupid smirk off of him.” 

“Wow,” you said with your eyes bulging out in shock.

“Sweetie, you’re too nice and a little bit–how can I put this?” she sarcastically questioned herself as she tilted her head to the side. “Oh yeah, you’re naive.” 

“I am not naive,” you muttered under your breath, offended. 

“Yes you are,” she said as she was walking out of the living room. “Now go to work!” 

You grabbed your bag from the couch and swung it over your shoulder. Your hand went on the doorknob, turning it to open the door. You peek your head out to see if you’re one and only was out there waiting for you. 

“He’s not there Sweet Pea!” Ari exclaimed. “You’re safe, you can come out!” 

“Thanks!” you yelled from the door, fully stepping out. You confidently walked over to your car, happy Mr. Pronge wasn’t outside to terrorize you. Your happiness was soon cut off when you saw a complete flat tire. 

“Dang it!” you cursed to yourself. You peered down at your watch, it was 6:41 A.M. You were trying to calculate how much time it would take to go on the bus and you heard the dreadful sound of boots hitting the road. 

“Oh no,” you internally whined. 

“Got a flat, Princess?” Mr. Pronge sarcastically asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Ari quickly stepped in. “Robert no.” You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. You looked at Ari in shock and sent a cry for help at the same time. “Leave her alone.” 

“She needs a ride, I’m giving her a ride. What is the problem?” he challenged, taking a step closer to him. 

“You’re not taking her.” 

Robert straightened his back and puffed his chest out. “And why not?” 

“Because I’m taking her. She was just getting something from her car.” Ari grabbed your bag from your hand and placed his hand on your lower back. “Lets go Sweet Pea,” he said as he guided you to his car, opening the door for you and handing you back your bag. 

Robert stood in shock. Ari was taking you. And you let him. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed, he was just wondering how he did it. That lucky bastard. 

The inside of his truck was bigger than you ever imagined. It was dirty and there were oil stains everywhere you looked. Wrenches were scattered across the floor along with bolts and lug nuts. The only thing that was almost impeccable was the air freshener hanging off the rearview mirror but there were five oil stained fingerprints on it.

“Thank you for the ride Mr. Levinson, you didn’t have to take me. I could've taken the bus.” 

“Don’t even mention it Sweet Pea,” Ari said. “Plus I don’t think you wanted to ride with Rob now did you?” 

“No,” you answered as you shook your head. “He scares me.” 

“He scares you?” Ari repeated, barely shocked. 

“Mhm,” you confirmed with a small hum. “He’s really big and mean. Everyone says he’s the nicest to me and if that’s true I don’t want to see him when he’s mad.” 

“It’s true, he’s the nicest to you.” Ari found it weird when Robert wouldn’t constantly yell at you like he did with other people but he can see why. You’re the sweetest thing ever.

“Is that all?” 

“Mr. Pronge used to bring women and–and they would come out screaming and crying. It frightened me.” 

Robert used to bring women over all the time. They wouldn’t last for too long. They would run out of the house screaming all kinds of profanities after 3 weeks. You’ll never forget the moment a woman came to your house and asked if you had anything sharp. You gave her one of the knives from the kitchen. 5 minutes later the word asshole was embedded on the side of his car in big, bold letters. 

You’ll also never forget the time another woman came to your trailer. She screamed while she banged on the door like a madman. When you opened the door she had red hand prints on her body and a barely carved ‘R’ on her exposed hip. She asked you to hide her because he was coming. Sure enough a minute later Mr. Pronge came, demanding you to show him where she was hiding. Luckily your brother was there to kick him out.

He could see why you were scared. Hell even that scared him a couple of times. For some reason Ari didn’t like the thought of you being scared. Hell, he could barely deal with the fact how uncomfortable Mr. Pronge made you. 

When you approached the building Ari parked the car and exited out, lightly jogging over to your side and opening your door for you. He held out his hand to you to help you out of the truck, your hand delicately gripped his and he could feel the rush of dopamine releasing in his body. 

“Thank you again Mr. Levinson!” you beamed with a bright smile. You raised yourself on your tippy toes and slightly bounced to place a thank you kiss on his cheek. 

An unexplainable warmth rushed through him. The action was short and sweet but it made him feel weak in the knees. He would get cheek kisses from women quite a lot but it never felt like this. 

“Anytime Sweet Pea.” He felt himself staring at your eyes for a little bit too long. He forced himself to look anywhere else for a brief second, making sure you didn’t grow uncomfortable. “What time do you want me to pick you up?” 

“Oh it’s okay Mr. Levinson, I can take the bus or have my brother pick me up.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked you again. 

You nodded your head. “Thank you again! You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Don’t even mention it,” he waves off. 

You muttered a small goodbye to Mr. Levinson before taking off into the diner. He watched you go in with a small smile on his face.

 Even though this was your first real interaction, he knew he wasn’t going to get enough of you. You were the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. The whole way back he thought of you. You were like a deadly plague in his mind. A beautiful, rose scented, warm plague. 

Luckily your brother was able to pick you up after he got off of work. The next bus was going to come within another hour. When your brother picked you up, he was agitated. 

“What happened to your tire?” your older brother asked, not amused at all.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I went outside this morning and it had a flat.” 

“I helped Mr. Levinson changed the tire, it had 4 nails,” he said in a matter of fact one. “4.” he repeated as he held four fingers in the air. 

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized. 

“You need to pay more attention where you’re driving.”  

“I didn’t mean to drive over the nails. There weren’t even any when I drove yesterday!” you protested. “I only drove to the library which is 2 minutes away.” 

“So they magically appeared?” he sarcastically asked. “Just pay attention please.” 

“I will.” 

“You left your bus pass on the table this morning. How did you get to work? ” he questioned you. “Mr. Pronge didn’t take you, did he?” He turned to glance at you with a worried look. 

“No, Mr. Levinson did,” you told your brother.

“Did you make it on time?” He quickly glanced at you again, “because you are horrible at giving directions.” 

“Hey!” you barked at him. “I am not horrible at giving directions.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“Well lucky for me I didn’t even have to tell him, he already knew where to go,” you responded, “sure did save me the hassle.” 

“Did you thank him?” 

“Of course I did, I’m not rude,” you responded, half hurt he would think that of you. 

The rest of the ride was short but your brother took the remaining 4 minute drive to lecture you once again to pay attention. You tried to zone him out but he would snap at you, telling you to listen. You knew he did it to annoy you, it was simply too easy to annoy you. 

When you arrived at home, you jumped out of the car to look at the tire. Sure you had no idea what you were even looking at but it never hurt. You bent down to look at it and you noticed one thing. It wasn’t patched up like before. It was brand new. 

“Are you coming in?” your brother asked you. 

You turned to look at him. “Yeah, I just have to do something really quick.” 

“Don’t take too long, I’ll be done cooking in 10 minutes.” 

“I promise,” you told him before he went inside. 

You took out a sticky note, a pen and 50 dollars that took you 4 days to earn. You used the hood of your car as a desk and wrote a sweet but short thank you on the sticky note. Afterwards you walked over to his house and placed it under the surprisingly alive flower pot he had on his front porch. 

The both of you didn’t see each other for almost 2 days. You got overwhelmed with work that you barely were in the house. It wasn’t until Ari caught you late at the laundromat. 

“Sweet Pea?”

You turned around at the sound of your name. “Oh hi Mr. Levinson,” you greeted him with a huge smile. 

“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you though he could barely pay any attention to you at the moment. You wore a thin pastel pink cardigan with a pearly white nightgown that had a bow at the valley of your breasts.

“I forgot to do my laundry this morning and I didn’t have time so I came here after work,” you told him. 

“Isn’t it a little late to be working?” he questioned you. 

“I’ve been picking up other shifts at work,” you said, “it doesn’t help having the extra money.” 

“Speaking of money,” he began to say as he took out the fifty you gave him from his front pocket of his flannel, “you left this on my porch.” 

“Yeah it’s for you,” you innocently said, “I noticed the tire is brand new and I’m 90% sure my brother forgot to pay you.” 

“It’s your money, I’m not taking it. Here.” He passed the money back to you but you refused. 

“Keep it, you changed my tire and I’m paying you for your service.” 

“I really can’t—” 

“Please,” you begged him with puppy eyes. 

You pulled at his heartstrings. It agonized him, he didn’t want to take your money but he also didn’t want to make you sad. But he kept it anyway and stuffed it back into the front pocket of his flannel. 

“What are you doing here so late?” you asked him as you bent down and took out your now dry clothes. 

His eyes peered down for a quick second and he saw the nightgown riding up, revealing your baby blue panties. His throat went dry and he fought hard to keep his gaze up but it found itself looking back down. 

“I–I realized I forgot to wash my work clothes.” 

“I hate when that happens.” You came back up after you pulled out the last piece of clothing. “Then I’m stuck getting yelled at by the manager when I come in with the wrong clothes.” 

Ari chuckled to avoid an awkward silence. Really it was to refrain himself from stuttering or making a fool out of himself. In his head he wanted to compliment you and how pretty your nightgown was but the words wouldn’t leave the tip of his tongue. 

He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You look pretty in your nightgown,” he quickly muttered out. 

Your eyes lit up at his compliment. “Thank you Mr. Levinson. It’s pretty but I don’t think I’ll keep it.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“It always rides up and by morning it’s all the way up here,” you pointed to your upper stomach.

Oh what he would give to be a fly in the room in the morning. He quickly changed the conversation, it was obvious you were too oblivious to what you were doing to him. Your sweet voice and innocence were driving him insane but he loved it, he secretly wanted more. 

The both of you left the laundromat 40 minutes later. He insisted on carrying your basket for you. You both walked side by side. You were busy trying to keep up with him while he was busy looking down at your breasts. 

“Thank you for carrying my basket Mr. Levinson,” you thanked him as you took your basket from him when you got to your front porch.

“Anytime Sweet Pea.”

You kissed his cheek once again to seal your thank you. “Sweet dreams Mr. Levinson.”

“Sweet dreams honey,” he repeated to you. 

Ari was in a rush to get back to his trailer but a dear beloved friend was waiting for him. 

“Well would you look at that?” Robert sarcastically asked him. “She gave you a kiss on the cheek.” 

“Not now Robert,” Ari pleaded, dying to get back into his place. 

“What’s the big rush to get back home?” Robert crossed his arms as he smirked, “I see you’re sporting a hard on. Surely it can’t be because of her. Right?” 

“Oh shut your trap.” 

“It is, isn't it?!” he gawked. 

“No it’s not!” Ari protested. 

“Oh really?” Robert Challenged as he squinted his eyes.

“I was about to get lucky with Kim before she came into the laundromat and interrupted us,” Ari quickly lied. 

“So you waited for her to be done then walked her back?” Robert questioned Ari. 

“Of course I did,” he scoffed, “otherwise she would’ve ran into you. Not to mention she’s terrified of you, fuckin’ creep.” 

“Whatever. She wants me, I know it,” Robert boasted. 

“Yeah in jail.” 

Robert rolled his eyes and walked back to his trailer while Ari walked back into his. He immediately locked the door behind him and dropped the basket on the floor. 

“Oh thank god,” Ari hissed as he unzipped his painfully tight pants. 

His cock was rock hard and had been for the past 20 minutes. The pants barely gave him any friction and if anything, made it worse. He palmed himself through his boxers and moaned in relief. 

All he can think about is you in the short nightgown and how he’s never been this hard before. Sure he’s been turned on but it was nothing compared to this. It was like he was a horny spazzy teenager all over again. 

He freed his cock from his boxers and sharply inhaled at the impact of the cold air. The tip of his cock was bright red and oozing with precum. He used his thumb to spread his precum and use it as lube.  

His eyes screwed shut in bliss when he began pumping up and down. He tried to think of the porn he watched three days ago but instead you kept popping up. He imagined you being here with him, helping him out. 

“Does that hurt?” you ask him as you point to his angry, leaking cock. 

“It does Sweet Pea,” he rasped out. 

“Was it because of me?” you innocently ask him as you bat your lashes. 

“Yes,” he admits. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize to him. “Let me help you,” you tell him as you take his cock into your tiny, warm hand. 

“Oh Sweet Pea,” he moans out. 

“You’re s-so bi-big,” you sputter out, slowly pumping him up and down. “Does that feel better?”

He doesn’t have the strength to talk so instead he nods eagerly. “G-Go a little bit faster.”

You obey him and start pumping faster. His moans fill the room as he gets lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. Your hand is cramping but you don’t care, anything to make him feel good. 

“Sweet Pea, I-I’m about to cum,” he warns you. 

You get down on your knees while you still pump him. “Let it all go,” you seductively say as you open your mouth. 

Ari was brought back to reality when his high overtook him and he orgasmed. It was so intense his thighs started to shake. He continued pumping and pumping until he got too sensitive he had to stop.

He stood there with his cum dripping down his hand and secretly wishing you were there to help clean it all up. The realization had hit him hard, he needed you.