#my town is like being in 2006

[nullsk]

presenting as a gender but being ambiguous enough to make jokes about any type of genital is peak comedy to me, is it a joke? is it half a joke? am i actually completely serious? yes to all

[beeapocalypse]

was about to start a post with 'do you remember the desperate housewives videogame. the husband shouldve been stoned to death. the cop and the mobster as well' and then realized no. nobody remembers the fuckin desperate housewives game are you kidding me

[fullsandwichmiracle]

"Oxford: A Year Abroad, part three”

Paring: Felix Catton x reader 

Warning: 18+, nsfw, smut, Oral, MDNI

Word count: 2006

01|02|03|04|05|?

When Y/N woke up Felix was no longer laying in the bed next to her, She pouted already missing the feeling of his skin. She crawled out of his bed and put on one of his shirts lying on the floor, it was so big on her and smelled just like him. As she walked out of his room Y/N saw Felix sitting on the sofa smoking a cigarette. Felix smiled and looked at her standing in only his open shirt and nothing else. “ Want a cigarette?” he asked, holding up the package. “No thanks, but I would kill for some breakfast,” Y/N said, plunging down next to Felix on the couch, still a bit damp from yesterday. Felix took up his phone and called up a pizzeria. “You okay with pepperoni?” he said as the phone began to call. “That will do” Y/N answered and leaned against Felix's arm as he answered the pizzeria. “ One pepperoni, thanks” he told them and gave them their address and hung up. “ They will be here in fifteen minutes” he told Y/N and put out his cigarette and began to kiss Y/N on the neck. “You're sexy in my shirt” he whispered seductively while continuing to kiss Y/N neck and shoulder and placing hickeys as he went. Y/N moaned as her eyes rolled back in pleasure. Felix began to passionately kiss her and feel up her body with his hands. 

His phone rang, prompting him to cease caressing Y/N's body as he answered. After ending the call, he exclaimed, "Pizza's here!" and stood up, leaving Y/N alone as he walked out of his apartment. Taking advantage of the moment, Y/N delved into his dorm, fueled by curiosity about Felix. In one drawer, she uncovered a car key and an unopened letter sealed with wax. Tempted to read it, she hesitated, realizing that tearing the seal would be noticeable. Continuing her exploration, she found a pair of panties under a cabinet, causing her heart to sink a bit. Even though she'd only been around for a week, she didn't like the idea of imagining him with someone else, preferring not to dwell on such thoughts, she discreetly returned them, concealing her snooping. As footsteps neared the door, Y/N quickly retreated to the couch, pretending as if nothing had occurred.

Felix opened the door, holding a pizza carton, entering and placing it on a table, he waited for Y/N to join him and take a seat. As Y/N approached the table to sit down, Felix opened the carton, grabbed a slice, and glanced at Y/N. "Hungry?" he asked with a smirk on his lips and held out a slice right in front of Y/N. “ Beg for it” he demanded and took a big bite of the slice. He liked being in control. "Can I pretty please have a slice?" she begged, looking at Felix with puppy eyes. "Who can say no to that?" he replied, taking a new slice. "Open up," he said, and Y/N did as she was told. Felix held the slice next to her lips, and she took a bite as he held it. They finished the remainder of the pizza, and as they were done, Felix declared, "Time for dessert." and hoisted Y/N from the chair and carried her on his shoulder, leading the way to his bedroom. Felix tossed Y/N onto his bed and climbed on top of her once again towering over her and making her feel so small in his presence, he then began to kiss her on her lips and then made his way down to her neck and placing small kisses as he went down to her shoulders then down to her chest. a small moan of pleasure released from Y/N lips as he began racing town to her belly. He began kissing her thighs and looked up at her telling her “ Beg for it”  as he went up to kiss her on her lips again. “Please eat my pussy Felix” Y/N begged as he kissed her around her neck once more. “When you're in my bed you will only address me as daddy,” he said, taking his hand and holding her chin. A bit aggressive “Got it” he said and placed a kiss on her squished lips. Y/N answers “ Yes, daddy” with his hand still squishing her cheeks. “ Good girl” he said as he let go of her and began tracing down her body as he had done before, this time when kissing her thighs began inching closer to her now wet and throbbing pussy. Slowly beginning to kiss her clit and then starting to circle his tongue and later going up and down between her folds. He held onto her thighs with a firm grip holding her still as he began tongue fucking her pussy. Y/N moaned, as she gripped his hair with one hand and clutched the satin covers with her other, scrunching the bedding. He began picking up the pace going faster and gripping her tighter from keeping her still as she began twitching with every stroke of his tongue. “Can I cum daddy” she moaned, barely containing herself. Felix looked up nodded quickly and began to finger her simultaneously as he tongue fucked her. The sensation became too much for her; she came and moaned, nearly screaming. He licked her clean tasting her cum before going up and Kissing her lips, he murmured, "Such a sweet dessert.". and kissed her forehead before laying down next to her. 

Y/N and Felix lingered in bed for a while until Y/N realized she should probably return to her room to prepare for the upcoming school week. "I should probably go back to my room, school tomorrow," Y/N informed Felix as she sat up. He sat up and kissed her neck from behind. “ As long as you promise to visit me during the week.” he murmured into her neck. "I'm going to try my hardest,” she answered, aware of the week packed with lectures.”Okey but I'm going to miss you,” Felix said, still kissing her neck from behind. Y/n didn't wanna leave but knew that if she stayed she wasn't going to be able to pull away from his passionate kisses. As Y/N started to leave the bed, Felix grabbed her hand dragging her back into his arms kissing her passionately on the lips. “Okay now you can leave” He said, then laid back down in bed, watching her leave. Y/N buttoned the shirt she was wearing, donned her pajama shorts, but couldn't locate her panties,She glanced back at Felix lying in bed one last time before heading out.

Upon returning to her room, Y/N layed down in her bed, pondering whether what had just happened was a dream or not. Ever since she first laid her eyes on him on her initial day during the tour she had wanted him, and now she knew he wanted her. After lying in bed, replaying the events of yesterday in her head for what seemed to be an hour or more, she looked outside and noticed the sun setting. Only having eaten a pizza the whole day Y/N put on something suitable to go and get something in the school cafeteria. 

In the cafeteria there were only a few people left as it was soon going to close for the day. She purchased a sandwich and took a bowl of soup that was free and sat down at one of the tables. Eating her dinner in silence and then tidying up and leaving. On her way back she saw Farleigh kissing someone down in a corridor.  Hearing quiet moans as she went up the stairs. Back in her room again she sat down and looked at her schedule for next week, filled with lectures and a seminar. They also had a writing assignment that started sometime next week. She recalled one of her professors mentioning it before everyone left the Friday lecture. After Y/N quickly outlined a brief schedule for her studying, she prepared for bed and packed her bag for an early morning lecture tomorrow. Lying down in bed, Y/N dreaded the upcoming week. However, she reassured herself that seeing Felix at some point during the week would make it more tolerable. She drifted off to sleep thinking about Felix and his soft brown eyes. 

As Y/N woke up the next day, she felt a wave of disappointment as she opened her eyes, realizing that Felix wouldn't be there. The warmth of the previous night's memories lingered, leaving a bittersweet feeling in her heart. As her alarm continued its persistent ringing, she snapped out of her fantasy, the remnants of last night's dream dissipating in the face of the new day's reality. She started getting ready for a day filled with lectures, choosing a stylish outfit to blend in with the evidently wealthier crowd at the school. Her homeschool covered the majority of the tuition, but she still had to pay a significant portion, and that alone nearly depleted her bank account. The struggle to manage expenses weighed heavily on her mind as she prepared for the day. To cut costs, she decided to pack a lunch, determined to avoid unnecessary spending in the cafeteria. 

Upon entering the lecture hall, she spotted her friends seated in the crowd, eagerly waving for her to join them. Their friendly gestures added a touch of warmth to the academic environment. Taking a seat next to them, one of her friends eagerly asked her to spill the details about what went down at the party. The curiosity in their eyes made her realize that her escapades had become the talk of the group. She began recounting the events, determined not to leave out any details. However, just as she was about to dive into the part where she jumped into the pool, the teacher started the lecture, forcing her to interrupt her story. The disappointment on her friends' faces mirrored her own frustration at the forced interruption. 

The day's lecture delved into various economic models, setting the stage for an upcoming paper assignment. As the professor explored the nuances of each model, the challenge of crafting a comprehensive paper loomed over the students.Y/N received the assignment to explore the Cournot model with identical goods and started contemplating what to include in her essay. The essay was relatively short, around two thousand words, and she figured it shouldn't take her more than a few days. The deadline wasn't pressing; they had until next week to complete and submit it. After attending two lectures, Y/N and her friends strolled towards the cafeteria, eager to grab lunch and catch up on Y/N's latest gossip. While recounting the events of Saturday, she intentionally left out certain details, feeling a bit reserved as the cafeteria buzzed with conversations. The awareness of the public space made her choose discretion, keeping some aspects of the story to herself. 

As the day progressed, she exited the final lecture feeling weary from the extended period of sitting and lack of movement. The physical toll of a day filled with classes left her yearning for some activity to shake off the fatigue. Upon returning to her room, she grabbed a bag and contemplated heading to the campus's swimming pool for a refreshing swim. The idea of immersing herself in the water seemed like a perfect remedy for the day's academic strain. Upon reaching the pool, she swam a couple of laps until she felt satisfied with her exercise. The rhythmic strokes and the cool embrace of the water provided a welcome break, allowing her to unwind and clear her mind from the academic demands of the day. Returning to her dorm, she took a refreshing shower and prepared herself for the next day of academic torture. 

Tag list: @celestialstar111

[wisteria-lotus]

Hidden Confessions

Written by: wisteria

Edited by: lotus

Content. MDNI :nsfw!, 18+, fluff, slight angst, smut, explicit language, vaginal fingering, breast play, unprotected sex (tell us if we missed anything!)

Sorcerer AU

Pairing:Fushiguro Megumi x fem! Reader

(Childhood friends to lovers)

(all characters aged up!)

August 14th, 2007

You looked at all the other kids your age, playing around and having fun. Laughing and screaming as they played tag endlessly. While you, a six and A HALF year old, were talking to your very first friend you made when you moved to this unfamiliar town. That first friend being, Tsumiki, Tsumiki Fushiguro. “Tsumiki!” you would shout, each time you would see her at the playground nearest to your house. Yet, this time a grumpy boy was next to her, with jet black hair, sharp eyes, and a very intimidating mood to him. Tsumiki soon introduced him, her younger brother, Megumi Fushiguro. Though at first he was scary, it’s right to like people that Tsumiki likes, if she likes something, you would. If she didn’t like something, you wouldn’t like it. She was your role model, someone who first approached you. And so, with the built up courage, you approached. “Hello! My name is Y/N. I’m six and a half!” which was actually the standard first-time greeting for kids your age. Pushing your hand forward like an adult for a hand shake, awkward seconds passed until he finally spoke,“ Fushiguro Megumi. five years old” his voice monotone without a hint of the joys you hear from the other boys. “Sorry, He’s not very…social.” Tsumiki quickly said after the cold greeting his brother had given you, followed by an awkward laugh from her.  Although he was a bit odd, you would have to like him, since Tsumiki did as well.

September 5th, 2006

You found out some details about him, but not from him of course, all from Tsumiki. One thing you learned was that he liked to read, since that was usually all he did when you three were hanging out, even when you attempted  to talk to him. you noticed that he likes to eat food that's well paired with ginger, for some odd reason, especially for someone who’s only six years old. Yet you let it slide, since Tsumiki didn’t mind. The one memory you remember would be the one where you were playing hide and seek with Tsumiki, while megumi was reading a book filled with tiny words, which you knew barely nothing of, you had been caught from hiding and started to run away from Tsumiki, where she was the tagger, yet you tripped on a uneven pavement tile, making you scrape your knee. It stung a lot, especially since it was basically solid concrete, your eyes burning a little, but trying not to cry. Megumi was there, rummaging through his backpack and walking towards you with a blank face, crouching down to see the injury. You were surprised he had even seen you fall at this point. While Tsumiki was worried about you but also adoring the little interaction you two were having. Megumi taking out an alcohol wipe to clean the scrape, those ones you would see at the doctors when they were cleaning your wound that would sting like you had been hit by a car. You were terrified. “Noooo!!!! Not the wipe!!” You whined with slightly watery eyes. Megumi looked up at you and sighed. “It’s not gonna hurt”, was what he said, but that was a big lie, a big fat lie. Because right when it touched your skin, it stung. You bit your lip, maybe enough for it to bleed, not wanting to be known as a crybaby in front of Tsumiki and Megumi. The pain did subside though with the help of the plain band aid that covered your once exposed wound. You were a bit bummed out it wasn’t any of your favorite band aids, like the one with hello kitty on it, but you’ll accept, just because he’s Tsumiki’s beloved younger brother. “Thank you!” you said to him after he had put the band aid on, your nose red from the attempt to not cry. He stood up and turned around after, you swore you saw a glimpse of him smiling when he turned. But you were four, how would you remember?

November 23rd, 2006

The last day you saw the Fushiguro siblings, you were waiting for them at the playground, the same time you guys usually meet. Yet, after 15 minutes passed, they were nowhere to be seen. . So, you decided to walk towards their house to check on them , only to see people moving things. . ‘Huh.’ is what popped up in your head that day. Then, Tsumiki and Megumi began to walk out and get into a car, one you have never seen being used by the two of them.  There was also a peculiar tall white haired man going into the car with Tsumiki and Megumi.  But, the people moving boxes from their house only meant one thing: they were moving. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that they hadn’t even told you. A trickle of teardrops fell down your cheeks and your sleeves were stained from rubbing the tears off your face. . Megumi turned back, feeling someone staring and saw you, crying, the same expression that he wore that day when you had scraped your knee. Megumi gave you one last look before turning back to get inside the car, where Tsumiki was already in. That day was the last day you saw those two. The last day they would be there to play with you. The last day you saw the Fushiguros.

January 1st,2017

January 1st, 2017, was the day you almost died. Frozen in place from seeing the gruesome monster in front of you. ‘What the hell’, was your only thoughts that momentYou couldn’t move and broke out in cold sweat, because of the ‘thing’ in front of you that was eating a… human limb?! . Blood splattered on the walls, the floors and you could hear the horrible noise and crunch of the monster chewing on the bones. . ‘Run. run. Run. run,’ you screamed internally to yourself,but for some reason, you couldn’t. Then, in the flash of an eye,  someone came in and punched it. You saw a glimpse of bright pink hair and brown eyes. You finally staggered back. It was gone..? How?

The boy looked over at you, kinda like a very curious puppy, “You can see it?”

“What?”

“The curse, like the ugly one”

“Y-yes…”

He smiled, like a big beam of sun, so warming.

“I better tell Gojo about this. You're gonna be my classmate!”

He pulled his hand out forward even though it was still covered in the goo.

“Oh-” 

He wiped it after noticing it though.

“My name is Yuuji Itadori.”

That’s how it started. How you had started your training of becoming a jujutsu sorcerer.

January 3rd,2017

You could hear Yuji talking, his voice a bit muffled, mixed with the voice of a girl. It was nerve wracking how a girl who was attending a regular high school transferred to one in the mountains, also finding out that she had some weird curse technique of some sort that you still can’t figure out yourself. ‘Here it goes’ you thought. Taking a big breath and finally sliding the door open, walking in. “This is our new student! y/n!”  your teacher, Gojo, said with a big smile.

You lifted your head up finally, to see one girl with short brown hair, slicked to the side, Yuji Itadori, and… Fushiguro..Megumi. You found out the girl’s name was Kugisaki Nobora. She was pretty cheerful, like Yuji. Then there wasMegumi, the same Megumi from eleven years ago, the same one who gave you the bandaid on your knee that day. So, you being you, you tried to approach him again.  A small spark of hope grew inside you that Megumi would say something back. Anything.  But, as expected, he just walked away, crushing any lasting hope that you had into ashesUntil you met him in the hallways while going back to your dorm.

“Megumi.”

He looked at you, his hands in his pockets, with that same blank expression.

“How’s tsumiki?” you asked, since that was the first thing that popped into your head. 

That's when it hit him. The sad look on his face when you mentioned her name. He looked away for a moment. The whole mood just got brought down even more. He finally just crumbled, the once stone statue crumbled in an instant. He crouched down on the ground covering his face while his body was shaking. You quickly went down knowing that something had probably happened. 

“Megumi?”

You tried to put your hand on his back but he quickly swatted it away. His face getting revealed, tears rolling down his delicate green eyes. He was crying, in front of you. He felt warmth the next second, your arms wrapped around him, making him finally give in and cry it all out. He was hurt. 

“Oh..it's going to be alright..”

But he shook his head covering his face on your shoulders.

What had really happened?

January 4th-5th, 2017

This was themost awkward situation you’ve ever been in. sparring with THE Fushiguro megumi, and after last night seeing him like that?! You gave Nobora the saddest face, mouthing to her, ”please get me out.” You had gotten beat up quite a bit after the sparring session. You walked towards Yuji and Nobora for comfort.

“Does he usually hit so hard..” you groaned

“What.? He went so easy on you!” Yuji said

“WHAT.”

There was no way he would go easy on you. Why would he? 

You thought about that for some time, no, the whole day, and you made the conclusion, it’s probably because Tsumiki said something..

But what really happened to her that made him break down like that last night..?

So you went up to your sensei, finding out the horrifying news to which would make you break down too if you were in megumi’s shoes. Tsumiki fell into a coma. 

The next day, you didn’t really process things well. Yuji would be talking to you head on, yet you were in another world. The whole day.

October 5th, 2023

It’s been years, and Tsumiki was still in a coma. Well, she was in front of you after all, laying down in the hospital for god knows how long. Megumi besides you, just looking down. You guys have gotten closer throughout the years though. Knowing each other's hobbies and sorts.  One wet droplet fell on the blanket of Tsumiki’s and you looked to your right. He was crying, just like that day, his fluttering eyelashes slightly clumped together from his tears. Even if he was crying, he was still drop dead gorgeous. You really didn’t know what to do in this situation except to hug him, when the feeling of deja vu hit you. “It’s gonna be okay..” you said repeatedly, even though you wouldn’t know half the pain he felt. 

“Y/N.. it hurts.” 

“I know..” 

You regret saying those words right when it came out of your mouth, you knew you were lying, you could never feel how hurt he was.

Him crying like that, was what ended you up in the bar, drinking to your heart's content with him. The beer bottles out on the table from others, the bustling restaurant and the drunk workers talking to each other. Other college students having a party for who knows what. But what really concerned you was Megumi’s drinking skills. You could handle maybe 3 quarters of a bottle at most. But he couldn't even handle half. He was already confessing to you about how even though he looked like he hated Gojo sensei, he was grateful that he had a home thanks to him. Just hearing that made you sober.  Telling you how Yuji and Nobora were actually the first people after you to talk to him without being scared. Soon after his rants, he  fell asleep. This led you to having his arms on your shoulders, carrying him into his apartment (you found his keys in his pocket). Clacking your shoes off the front door, finally, you just have to make it to the couch. One step, two step, three.. You felt a hand creep to your waist, pulling you down with him, you landed with a big oof on the couch. 

“y/n.”

You were only mere inches away, you could feel his minty breath against you. While he nuzzled his head against the crook of your neck. 

“Megumi, you're drunk..”

He shook his head.

“Mm..shut up.”

He raised his head up to see your face. His delicate eyelashes flutter to admire you. Oh. he was close. Too close. You were sure it was the alcohol making your ears heated as well as your face. It had to be. 

“I should go-”

He cut you off with a kiss, one so gentle but so alluring. Geez, it had to be the alcohol. Even from breaking the kiss once his lips kept on coming back to yours, like a magnet. You knew he was smart, which was probably how his tongue slid into your mouth, and how his hand slid up your sweater. His hands were cold, unclasping your bra while you were still distracted with the ongoing kisses. Your nipples perked up, while he squeezed and played with it like the little remotes on the claw machines and then that slick feeling in your panties. His other hand creeped to play with your clothed folds.

“You're making me go insane..”  his voice was raspy yet it made your body shake.

 His lips made its way down to your neck, sucking on it. It didn’t make the mess in your panties get better at all, it made it worse. His fingers rubbing your still-clothed clit gently, as you couldn't keep in your moans ever since the beginning anyways, but now it had only gotten louder. The noises filled the room, casting a heated mood. The wet noises of his fingers going in and out of you while your moans filled his ears. How did it even turn out like this? What was more insane was how Megumi looked under you. You knew he was skillful with his hands, after all, he uses it for summoning his shikigamis, but not in this way. Not the way to make your body shudder and feel all tingly when he kept rubbing and thrusting his fingers inside. The light scent of his perfume matched him perfectly. It was all so intimate to you. How his hands roamed around leaving sparks of excitement. Lifting up your clothes from your body swiftly, taking off your panties, while his lips trailing red marks.

“Do you like it?”

Yet your mouth wouldn’t help you reply at all. Only moans coming out. His fingers thrust into you from each breath you take. You were close. Your insides tighten around his fingers, making his dick harden from thinking about the pure ecstasy of his dick inside you instead of his fingers. 

“I’m gonna-” but the last word wouldn’t come out.

“Say it for me” his voice slightly seductive from his usually cold tone of voice. 

“Im gonna cum-” which was followed by a loud moan and your back arching.

His two fingers getting drenched in your cum was such a sight. His eyes filled with raw desire, erupting butterflies in your stomach. 

“Fuck. y/n..”

Even after you came you wanted more, like a magnet for him. You wanted him, no, you needed him. Even though after this your friendship may become a ruin, you wouldn't care less after seeing his dick bulging out of his gray- black boxers. Leading to you trying to put his length inside of you, tempting to megumi. Moaning continuously from each inch getting swallowed deeper inside you. Your hands on his chest while sucked your hard nipples, saliva dripping down your chest. It was so tempting for him to just bring his hands to your waist and thrust you down onto him, but he had some self control. Slowly thrusting up and down from him, squelching noises filling the room. Shit, he really couldn’t help himself anymore. So his hands were brought up to our waist finally pushing your waist up and down.

“Ahn-!” gasping from the surprise of how deep and quick he went.

He flipped you over and started to thrust deeper while occupying your mouth with sloppy, deep kisses. 

“Your tightening around me so much, y/n..ngh-” his groan was even beautiful to you.

His sweat making his body glisten in the dim lighting.  The creaking of the couch was unnoticeable to what was already happening. 

“Megumi, megumi-!” His name spewing out of your mouth from each thrust was melodic. Everything was so sensitive to you, as if your senses were heightened. You thought, at this point his dick would be shaped inside you. His grip on your waist tightening more as he thrust into you deeper, making you already loud moans even louder. 

“I love you for being so damn stupid” thrust “stubborn” thrust “annoying”

Your walls clenching around him, making you cum for the second time, making a grunt spill out of his mouth. His dick getting pulled out quickly while his cum shot onto you. A gasp leaving your mouth from his withdrawal, while your clit throbs from the previous orgasm. He fell next to you on the couch to regain his composure, panting while sweat dripped down his handsome sculpted face. 

After a few minutes you finally realized what mess you made with him as well as what you did with him, first of all. Yet he was unfazed, I mean after all he confessed to you his long burrowed feeling for you while you guys were…  In the corner of his eyes he saw you slap your face to get yourself out of the trance, making him chuckle a little. Bringing some wipes and cleaning the evidence of what had happened. His touch was soft and gentle, who wouldn’t fall for a man like him. 

“I love you too, megumi.”

He looked up at you in slight surprise, “what did you say?”

“I love you, megumi”

You saw the slight pink rise up on his face as well as his ears, and you couldn’t help but smile.

He just continued to help you, but you already knew he loved you as much as you did him. 

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Oh baby my baby you're in your seventies and can't beat the dementia allegations

Can you say "Jesus Christ ell could you make a longer tilte"? And I'll tell you yes I could've but I didn't for your comfort you're welcome btw

Barbie dolls: Five Hargreeves x gn!reader

Word: 2.9k

Summary: uh right so you were with five during the apocalypse and then it's like set in season 2 but you like forgot all about your life and shit and five findz you and yada yada it's cute I think

Warnings: I said you were born is 2006 BUT IT MAKES SENSE I DID MATH FOR THIS OKAY OKAY YOU GUYS ARE THE SAME AGE, I made a timeline if you need it, you're married to him, five makes a half joke Abt you being an escapee from the insane asylum, it's a lil sad bc Five loves you and you don't even remember him but whatcha gonna do?, you ogle a stripper/burlesque dancer I KNOW THEY AREN'T THE SAME BUT LEAVE ME ALONE I DODNT EVEN KNOW HOW TO DRIVE, five ogles a stripper/burlesque dancer, open ended ending bc I got tired of writing about a season we've all already watched, that's it I think

Something has always felt off. You couldn’t remember anything before five months ago. There were faces around town that made you tilt your head because you were sure you knew them. Even the people you lived with hadn’t met you before five months ago. They found you standing on the sidewalk down some road, looking around like you’d never even seen a town before. They let you in. You got a bed and a roof all for free. They were taking care of you out of the goodness of their heart. You didn’t have the guts to not give them anything back so you got a job within your second month of living there. 

It was a fine job. You worked in a diner. It wasn’t anything crazy. It had milkshakes and a fine paycheck. It had red booths and a box pattern on the floor that you pretended was hopscotch when it hit a lull. Sometimes customers were rude but you spit in their food sometimes so you considered the world balanced. It was just a diner in the simplist terms. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

Something about it all just seemed off. You’d get songs stuck in your head that no one knew. You’d get Deja vu about things you couldn’t place. You’d see people stare at you like they knew you and when you walked by they seemed sad. You didn’t know who they were. You’d get this feeling like you missing something. You were homesick for a home you couldn’t remember. 

You were currently listening to your coworker telling you about his day as you scribbled into your server pad. You had a flower in the bottom corner and you were starting a new spiral. The bell above the door rang. You kept listening to your coworker. 

“Sit anywhere you’d like and we’ll be right with you.” You said, eyes still on the pad. Your coworker paused his spiel. You looked up from the pad to see what made him stop. A man who appeared to be your age walked straight across the diner floor. He was in a school uniform that you didn’t recognize and his eyes were set on you. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he walked to the counter in front of you. He sat in the barstool right across from you and smiled at you. He looked you up and down before sighing. 

“Hi.” He said it like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. It sounded like he was seeing an old friend again. His face gave you that same sick stomach feeling. You tilted your head, staring at his face to see if you could place it. Nothing. 

“What can I get you started with?” Your coworker said, picking up your slack. The man glanced over at your coworker and rolled his eyes before looking at you again. 

“Have we met before?” You asked, leaning onto the counter to give him your full focus. His smile fell a little, sitting back. He gestured to his chest subconsciously. 

“You don’t- you don’t remember me?” He asked, looking hurt. You shook your head. 

“No, I had a mishap five months ago. I can’t rember anything before that, so if we’ve met I’m sorry I’ve forgotten.” You said, shoving your server pad into your apron. The man’s eyebrows furrowed. He hummed. 

“That is horrific news.” He muttered. You shrugged. 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, I’m not sure what to do now.” He said, looking down at the counter. 

“You could order and I’ll give you my number before you leave so you can call me and maybe reinform me?” You said. The man looked up and nodded. He sighed and tapped the counter. 

Days later he was standing in the bedroom that was temperaily yours with a blackboard behind him. He turned to the blackboard writing something at the top. He pulled back and let you read it. ‘Your life for the past 50 years’ You snorted at his joke, looking over at him to see if he was laughing too. Your smile fell at the very serious look in his eyes. You tilted your head to the side. He pressed his lips together and shrugged. 

“Right, first things first. You’re in your seventies.” He said, clapping his hands together. You stared at him, realizing you might have let a crazy man into your home. 

“Right. You can tell by my loafers and shaw.” You muttered. He shrugged. 

“Second thing my name is Five.” You actually laughed at that. You had officially let a crazy person into your home. You leaned back on your bad, staring at the ceiling to laugh harder. 

“Course I’m seventy, and your name is Five. What’s next you’re going to tell me you’re a time traveler?” You joked, snorting again at your own joke. “Five” avoided your eyes and sighed. You gasped. 

“You are going to tell me you’re a time traveler.” You said, staring at him in shock. He turned back to the blackboard. His hand shot out, making a line across the board. “Five" drew a small vertical line at the start. You heard the chalk writing and then he pulled back. On top of the vertical line was ‘Birth (2006)’. Your eye twitched. 

Hours later the board was full to the max, Five was breaking a sweat, and you felt like your head was going to explode. You stood from the bed, pacing back and forth as Five pulled off his top blazer and rolled up his sleeves. He really was selling the substitute teacher look now. You huffed and faced him. 

“So just to recap, We got stuck in the apocalypse for 45 years. Then we were hired by basically an assassination team. Then we time traveled back to the ‘present’ which at the time was 2019. Then we didn’t stop the apocalypse and time traveled again so we didn’t all die. Your time travel shit knocked my memories out of my ear or whatever. We got trapped in the 60s and you just got here. There are 5 other people in this town who are also time travelers. You and your siblings have superpowers. And there’s another apocalypse coming. Is that right?” You said, counting on a finger at each new event. Five hummed, tapping the chalk against the side of his face and turning back to the board. He looked at the chalkboard covered in white lines. It was honestly hard to look at and you were curious as to how either of you were still standing up right. Five clicked his tongue. 

“Oh! Also, we’ve been married for decades. Coming up on 36 years or something along those lines. It’s a little hard to keep track with all the time travel but once I get my hands on a calendar I can let you know specifics.” Five said, adding another note to the board. You stared at him for a moment. He turned around and gave you a small smile. 

“Well, isn’t that wild? What a life huh? You know not to be rude but if all of this is true, and that’s a major if, why would I want to go back to a life like that? I mean running from apocalypses, apocalypsi? Ends of the world. Actually, I'm an assassin. I know it’s a lame life but I think I’d rather work at the diner.” You said, sitting down on the edge of the bed again. Five chewed on his lip, setting the piece of chalk down. He settled next to you sighing on his way down and making you believe the 70-year-old spiel a little more. 

”If you want to stay here, you can. I won’t stop you. I’m not going to force you to come with me. I just want to remind you that your life here would only last 10 more days.” He said. It was subtle and quiet but you heard the break in his voice at the end of his talk. You hummed and stared at the carpet. You looked over at him to see a dusty white patch on the side of his face. His head was dipped down like he was trying to hide the fact he was crying. You reached over and wiped the chalk off the side of his face. Five turned his head away from you, wiping at his eyes. When he faced you again you were holding out a tissue to him. He pulled back, staring down at the tissue. 

“Where’d you get that?” You scoffed, waving it at him. He snatched it out of your hand. 

“Stop asking me questions, I’m clearly in a fragile mental state. I just learned I’m 70 and married, it’s a lot to take in. Especially now that I know I have to help stop the end of the world for the second time apparently.” You muttered, looking back at the carpet. Even though when you first walked into the room you felt like you were going to throw up just looking at the color now you thought you might miss it. Five sat up. 

“You’re not staying?” He whispered, scared if he pulled his tone up you’d change your mind. 

“Well, I don’t know you. I used to. And when I did, I trusted you enough to marry you. And not divorce you for the thirty years after that. I think if I had my memories, I’d trust you enough to follow you to the end of the world.” You said. Five sighed and looked at your lips. You had no idea what it felt like to stare your lover in the eyes and see unrecognization staring back at you. You felt an awkward pain of ‘I don’t really care but I should’ hit your heart. You leaned back and reached your hand out. You awkwardly patted his shoulder. He pressed his lips together and nodded. 

“Yeah, it’s you. It’s still you.” He muttered before standing up. He held his hand out towards you. You looked between his face and hand, staying seated. 

“Right.” Five dropped his hand and spun around towards the door. He gestured over his shoulder to follow him. You looked at the chalkboard and assumed he didn’t care enough to fix it. You followed after him. 

“Where are we headed?” You asked once you were both halfway down the street from your temporary home. You should’ve asked earlier but you were focused on keeping pace with him. Five glanced at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Strip club.” He said blatantly. You clapped your hands together once. 

“Ah. What was I thinking? Of course, we’re going to the strip club. Perfect first date if you ask me.” You said, waving your arms in the air. As a lady in short heels and a blue dress walked past you, you spoke to her. “Where are you off to? We’re off to the strip club! I think I’ve associated myself with a madman!” You said, shaking your head around and throwing your hands up. Five reached back for you, pulling you away by your elbow. The woman looked at you both with disgust as she slowly walked backward away from you both. 

“So sorry. They’re an escape from the asylum. I’m taking them back now, pay it no mind.” Five said. He gave the woman a polite smile. You turned back to him gasping and holding your finger up. 

“That’s what the P in Marsha P. Johnson stands for!” You said, facing ahead again. “Oh, how I love that woman.” You muttered. Five kept his attention on the woman. 

“See? They’re making up historical figures. Cuckoo.” He waved his finger around next to his ear and faced the front again. You smacked his shoulder. He pulled you away faster, picking up his pace. 

Initially you thought he was kind of kidding when Five said you were going to a strip club. But you were now starting to realize you should stop assuming he’s joking about things. You sighed in the rather uncomfortable chair as you both sat near the stage. Your chairs were pressed together, by Five no less. The second you made it inside he was shoving a chair up against the other one, the armrests pressing into each other. You watched the lady on stage, wondering how much money she was making and wondering how hard burlesque would be to pick up. Five leaned over the arm of his chair, his hand hovering over his mouth as he spoke into your ear. 

“You know this isn’t our first date right? Not even a date really.” Five said, watching you intently as you turned your head to face him. You were so close you could easily count the number of hairs forming his peach fuzz on his face. You didn’t because that would be a waste of time but you could. You shrugged. 

“I mostly said it as a joke but yes I would assume our first date wasn’t to burlesque. Seeing as it was the apocalypse.” You said, shaking your head and looking back to the woman. You thought of dropping the conversation but knowing the specifics of your relationship would be so nice. 

“What was it though? For research.” You added an excuse like he didn’t fully know you were lying. Five shrugged and stared at the floor. 

“We had a table and chairs made out of these rocks we found. It was hard work getting it set up but we had an apocalypse dinner. Which basically consists of Twinkies and other food that cannot perish no matter how hard it tries. It was actually quite nice. We didn’t really have a whole lot of time to just be normal people so even just sharing a Twinkie over our rock tables felt refreshing. Our dates after that were really just us sharing the same dirt pile as our bed and keeping each other alive. Then when we got back to 2019 I actually took you for a half-decent date. We went out and got takeout from the greasiest place imaginable and ate it at my father's extremely expensive table.” When he spoke a smile met his face like an old friend. He kept his eyes on the floor because he knew even though you were sitting next to him you wouldn’t return the nostalgia ridden smile. 

“You really loved me. I can’t believe I just realized that because you talked about Twinkies.” You said, looking at the floor like it could feel your surprise too. Five hummed. 

“I love you, not loved. It’s not in the past.” Five said, staring at you to make sure you saw the severity. You furrowed your eyebrows when your stomach swarmed. You raised an eyebrow. 

“I wish I could tell you I love you back but I don’t know you in that way. I don’t even remember your favorite color.” You said. Five hummed and rubbed the side of your cheek with his thumb. 

“It’s okay. I know you love me, even if you can’t remember it. I’m almost entirely certain we fall in love in every single timeline. Not to mention we’ve had plenty of time together. I know you inside and out. I know the color of your 13th birthday cake. I know what you look like when your body has aged 50 years. I know all I need to know about you to love you till the day I die and onward. You know these things about me but they’ve settled like dust in your brain. Someone just needs to kick it up and you’ll know my favorite color again. You’ll know what it was like to share a Twinkie over a rock table.” Five said, his thumb dipping down to your neck. He pulled his hand away, holding his head up with his hand instead. 

“How could you say something so nice while a woman’s tits are shaking on a stage next to you?” You asked, glancing at the now mostly naked woman on the stage. You looked back to Five. His eyes were fully set on you. His head was tilted in a way that made you think he was thinking of you before you lost every memory. He pressed his lips together. 

“I’m looking at someone gorgeous, why would I waste my time letting my vision slip to her breasts.” Yeah, Five might feel that way, but you don’t. You looked past him, dropping your jaw when you saw the move she made to slip her stocking off. With your dropped jaw, Five turned his head too. You both stared at her as she started to lose more clothes. A man stood behind Five’s chair. You reached out to Five, hoping he was down for conflict. The man leaned down towards Five’s ear. He whispered something and looked over at you. He smiled and gave you a light wave. You awkwardly looked around your surroundings, staring at the floor again. 

“They lost their memory. It’s okay though, I have a theory it’ll come back. Family meeting on the corner of Commence and Knox by the way, today at 10 pm.” Five said before standing up. 

“Come on, love. We have four other people to find.” Five said. Snatching your hand off the chair and dragging you away. He must’ve realized he was holding your hand by the time you left the building, dropping your hand immediately.      

“She was about to lose her pants.” You said. Five smiled but pretended he didn’t, sighing and shaking his head. You snorted and followed after him. 

[angelic-ambedo]

The Weirdest Fucking Movies I've Ever seen Pt. 1

Okay so I sort of champion myself as a lover of weird movies. And it's funny because regardless of how many I've seen, every time I watch a weird movie I genuinely feel as if it is the weirdest movie I've ever seen in my life.

So, I decided to make a list which compiles all of said weird movies and then a description of why I find each so uniquely weird. If you find any of these descriptions or titles intriguing, I recommend you seek these movies out, because a weird movie = a good life ya know so yeah

If you have more weird movies please please recommend them im hungry for new crazy cinema bebesssss

Eraserhead (1977) - genuinely makes no sense.

Coherence (2013) - trippy scientifically interesting thriller

Some Velvet Morning (2013) - abusive cat n mouse relationship

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) - emotional violence

Greener Grass (2019) - let's shame suburbia!

Trash Humpers (2009) - people fucking the trash...?

Julien Donkey-Boy (1999) - mental illness be so sad and trippy

Gummo (1997) - literal photo album of a dysfunctional town

Slaughtered Vomit Dolls (2006) - bulimia PSA in disguise

Black Bear (2020) - art seeps into the "real" world

Begotten (1990) - god kills himself

Trouble Every Day (2001) - eating people presented as...a turn on?

Baise-Moi (2000) - punk feminist murderous women are sick and society sux

Palindromes (2004) - one character is played by a ton of different actors of different ages, races, and sexes

964 Pinocchio (1991) - so much vomit, even more cyberpunk lobotomy sex machine madness

Meet the Feebles (1989) - the muppets give each other STDs and commit mass murder

In the Realm of the Senses (1976) - a torrid, pornographic affair used to escape the horrors of a war-torn world

Enter the Void (2009) - going to the past, present, and future, POV shots that include blinking, going inside the body, taboo themes with a psychedelic style

Love (2015) - horny pseudo-porno about a misogynistic asshole who somehow pulls hot, sexually adventurous women

Climax (2018) - LSD fueled nightmare

Pink Flamingos (1972) - a competition to be the "filthiest person alive" (spoiler alert: the cool drag queen wins)

Vivarium (2019) - Suburbia is still creepy, guys

Be My Cat: A Film for Anne (2015) - can we please stop having erotomania like celebrities aren't into u babe :(

No No Nooky TV (1987) - Computers being cool and saying "boobs" and "clit"

The Piano Teacher (2001) - unsafe nonconsensual bdsm and sexual repression is...no. please no.

The Night Porter (1974) - stockholm syndrome and wild bdsm stuff with postwar themes

Belle de Jour (1967) - more bdsm themes

Titane (2021) - woman fucks a car and gets pregnant

Daisies (1966) - two girls cut up pickles and destroy the patriarchy

Creep 1 and 2 (2014, 2017) - murder has never been this funny

Garbanzo Gas (2007) - a human cow gets an all-expenses paid trip to a motel before it hits the slaughterhouse

Melancholie der Engel (2009) - ew.

In Our Garden (2002) - old men dicks + weirdest dialogue I've ever heard in my life

The Rehearsal (TV series) (2022) - this is the ultimate weirdest thing ever and I don't know how else to categorize it.

Trigger Warnings (all of these movies are weird/fucked up but some of them contain actual fucked up stuff that like. happened in real life. so below are the triggers for that kind of stuff. All of these films are genuine films, not the gore stuff the internet produces, but some of them because of the country/time period/transgressiveness include content that is inappropriate and/or ethically unacceptable, so I've included those movies below)

Baise-Moi - unsimulated sex scenes which includes SA scenes that actors consented to but characters did not. this proves a feminist point but is still incredibly upsetting and stayed with me for a while as there are close ups and its awful.

In the Realm of the Senses - Please look into this one more before you watch it, I'm not going to describe things in detail because it makes me so uncomfortable but there are some scenes that involve young actors that should not ethically have been in the situations they were put in. The movie is exceptionally well made and from what I know globally respected so I don't know why they had to ruin it for me but whatever.

Pink Flamingos - One infamous scene involves an actual chicken death. It was the early 70s (long time ago and no PETA) and they apparently ate the chicken afterward, so I felt less immoral about this one but still gross.

Melancholie der Engel - okay please genuinely never watch this movie unless you're super into traumatizing yourself and are very desensitized I guess. There's a ton of actual animal abuse in very very graphic/unnecessarily disturbing shock type situations. There's other bad unsimulated stuff but this is the worst of it from what I know.

Love and Meet the Feebles contain scenes that are transphobic and/or racist, which is gross. Slaughtered Vomit Dolls was made by a very bad person. A bunch of the movies also have unsimulated sex stuff, I don't know if that makes anyone uncomfortable but if it does I'm just putting it out there.

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-One

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: More angst, but of the wolfy-variety!

Notes: I know I said two chapters before Jasper, but I had to fit this one in which is why I’m posting out of my normal window. Trust the process when it comes to why I did what I did this chapter lol and if you don’t spot it, everything will be fine (famous last words). Honestly I think I’m just healing inner me with how I wish conversations should’ve happened in the movie lol

Word Count: 2401

Series Masterlist

• March 8th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

Time starts to pass by a little easier with Quil, the quiet isn’t as deafening even when there’s a comfortable silence. I think the same could be said for Quil, since all of his Rez friends have gone AWOL.

Our days are usually spent under blankets on my couch, watching movies and just being present for each other. Plus, there’s not much to do in this tiny ass town anyways.

“Heard anything?” I ask him tentatively, hopefully.

He shakes his head solemnly in response, eyes never leaving the tv. The fact that he doesn’t even want to talk about Jake or Embry twists a new little knife in my gut.

“I’m okay, Y/n/n.” The grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes and I hate it.

“It’s okay to miss them, I know it’s hard to be stuck with just me now-”

“Don’t.” He reaches over to grab my ankle since I’m facing him on the couch and drags it to his lap, “You’re here and they’re not. I was friends with them longer and they ditched me for other dudes. I’m where I want to be.”

“You don’t have to hold it all in, I’m familiar with that feeling.” I nudge his hand with my socked foot to get him to look at me. “What good am I if I don’t therapize you too?”

“That would insinuate I do anything for you, you won’t talk about him.” His gaze levels on me and I’m caught red handed.

“There’s not much to it, I-I loved him and he’s gone. End of story.” I pick at the loose strings on my blanket, the topic hard for me to meet his eyes.

“There’s everything to it.” He squeezes my foot, “Not end of story, you deserve to vent just as much as I do. You don’t need to feel guilty for grieving him, heartache is a real bitch.”

“Heartache is a bitch, huh?” I huff a laugh as I try to breathe through the tears that want to spring up.

“Y/n, I’m the loneliest guy on the planet. In the male friends department and the girlfriend department, don’t make fun of me.” His lighthearted tone trying and failing to make light of his situation.

“We’re just fucked, aren’t we?” His brown eyes meet mine as we commiserate in our collective sadness.

His head drops back against the back of the couch, “Beyond comprehension, my dear Y/n/n.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

My finger hovers over a text to Quil, asking him to come over, when I get a call from my other best friend.

“Bells, hey-”

“I need backup.” Her request draws me up short. “I’m going to the Rez-I need to see Jacob.”

“Bella, he’s with Sam now-”

“I don’t care anymore, you in?” She presses.

“I was in the second you called, I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Good, because I’m almost there.” Hanging up the phone, I grab a jacket and my shoes.

So much for the first day of Spring Break, might as well start it off with a bang.

•March 11th, 2006 • Quileute Indian Reservation•

Reader

Bella slid to a stop in Jacob’s driveway and both of us hopped out, memories of bike-building settling like a weight in my stomach. It wasn’t even that long ago and I miss it, I miss Jacob.

Bella knocks on the glass pane of his front door and Billy Black answers, “Bella?”

“I need to see him.”

“He-,” glancing between us briefly, “he’s not in.” The lie blatantly obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Bella pushes past his wheelchair and inside the house, “I really need to see him.”

I remain awkwardly on the front porch, torn between not wanting to intrude or following my friend.

“Bella!” Billy’s warning is ineffective as she storms to Jacob’s room.

Just when the situation couldn’t possibly get worse, I spot four shirtless figures emerging from the forest by the house, Sam’s group.

I hear the back door open and shut and I just know it’s Bella.

I sprint around the house to catch up to her, “Bella!” But my warning falls on deaf ears, she’s on a warpath for the boys. “Shit.” I mutter under my breath.

Stomping up to the tallest - Sam, “What did you do?” She pushes his chest, hard. “What did you do, huh? What did you do to him?!”

“Hey - watch it!” The other two guys plus Embry shout as they step up around their leader.

“Easy.” The word is more of a growl than anything and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

If this comes to a fight, we’re fucked.

“He didn’t want this!” Her desperation pulls at my heart.

“What did we do? What did he do? What did he tell you?” The questions from the guy to Sam’s right are rapid-fire, his anger clearly volatile.

“He tells me nothing, because he’s scared of you!”

The same guy barks out a laugh, clearly he finds her concern for Jacob silly.

“Bella, let’s go home-” but my plead immediately goes unheard because she throws a fucking right hook for the guys face, son of a bitch.

“Too late now.” Another guy jokes, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Bella, get back!” Sam orders, trying to diffuse the situation as this guy begins to shake.

I grab her arm and we slowly start to retreat for her truck, too scared to turn and take our eyes off of the angry male.

“Bella…” I whisper, unsure of what to do.

“Paul! Calm down now.” The authority in Sam’s voice rings through the backyard, but it’s too late somehow.

The shaking and heavy breathing from Paul leads to a transformation that snatches my breath from my body - a wolf. And not just any wolf, a wolf from the fucking meadow. A wolf that saved us from Laraunt, now standing before us where Paul was.

Where Paul was.

Paul is a wolf. A really big one at that - a really big angry one.

Anger directed at Bella and by association, me. The death grip I have on her fucking arm has to be painful, but the menacing look in his eyes shocks me to my bones.

Bella moves before I do, using my tight grip on her to yank me into action with her as she makes for Jacob’s house.

“Bella! Y/n!” Jake yells, clearing the back porch railing in one leap, sprinting for us.

“Run! Jake, run!” Bella screams back at him, but he charges towards us anyways.

He jumps last minute before he reaches us and I trip trying to follow his path with my eyes before-

Before he turns into a fucking wolf too.

Jacob Black, our best friend, is a wolf? I mean, vampires are definitely a thing, but wolves?

Squaring off with Paul, both the russet-colored wolf and the silver-grey wolf launch for each other. Snapping and snarling as they roll into the woods, my heart painfully thumps in my chest, Jacob.

“Hey, take the girls back to Emily’s place.” Sam orders Embry and the last remaining male, both of them jogging over to us.

“I guess the wolf’s out of the bag.” They joke, ushering us up and towards Bella’s truck.

They’re wolves, Sam’s gaggle of Rez boys are fucking wolves. Jacob is one of them and so is Embry, what about Quil? Is this why they’ve ditched him, ditched us? Wolves can’t be friends with humans? What do I even tell him, or should I tell him anything?

My mind is racing a million miles an hour in the span of seconds with questions I desperately need answers to.

Embry holds open the passenger side door to Bella’s truck with a smile and I walk right past his invitation to climb in the bed with the newly acquainted Jared.

“Y/n, that’s not safe-”

“I’ll be fine.” I don’t even spare a glance at him with my monotone answer, I’m mad at him for how he’s treating Quil.

Jared raises his eyebrows and quirks a grin. “Feisty, I like it.”

Embry huffs as he shuts the door behind Bella and rounds the truck for the driver’s side, “Don’t encourage her, man.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Uley Residence •

Reader

“Hey I think we should go back and see if Jacob’s okay.” Bella rolls down her window as the rest of us hop out of her truck.

“I hope Paul sinks some teeth in him, serves him right.” Jared quips to Embry.

“No way! Jacob’s a natural, you see him phase on the fly? I got five that says Paul doesn’t even touch him.” Embry argues, “C’mon in Bella! We won’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jared jokes and I shove him as we turn to walk inside.

“Oh hey, about Emily - Sam’s fiancé? Don’t stare, it bugs Sam.” Embry warns both of us before following Jared.

“Why would we stare?” Bella asks and I shrug, just as confused.

“You guys hungry? Like I have to ask.” The female in the kitchen asks the boys, laughing at what must be an inside joke. “Who’s this?” She asks after turning around, glancing between us.

“Bella Swan and Y/n Y/l/n.” Jared answers her.

“Hmm… So, you’re the vampire girl-well, girls.” I instantly admire her easy-going vibe, diving straight in to acknowledge the elephant in the room to get it over with.

“So you’re the wolf girl?” Bella asks in return, accepting her olive branch.

“Guess so,” smiling to herself, she picks up the largest platter I’ve ever seen of muffins, “Well, I’m engaged to one.” Snatching both Embry and Jared’s hands as they reach- “Save some for your brothers! And ladies first, muffin?” It’s comical, the way she mothers them.

“Thank you, Emily.” I smile at her and sit across from Jared, the muffin still warm from the oven.

“Leave it to Jacob to find a way around Sam’s gag order.” Emily scoffs, not surprised.

“Umm, he didn’t… Say anything to us.” Glancing at me, Bella explains.

“That’s a wolf thing, alpha’s orders get obeyed whether we want ‘em to or not. Oh and check it out - we can hear each other’s thoughts.” Embry brags and I gape, this is all fucking wild.

“Would you shut up! These are trade secrets - damnit, these chicks run with vampires!” Jared’s frustration is lighthearted as he admonishes Embry for giving away some of their abilities.

“Can’t really run with vampires,” Emily and I chuckle at the boys not quite catching on, “Because they’re fast.”

“Yeah? Well we’re faster. Freaked out yet?”

“You’re not the first monsters we’ve met.”

“Jake’s right, you’re good with weird.” Sam nods at us, beelining for Emily as soon as he steps in the door. He presses kisses to her lips and then all over her face, causing her to giggle. The obvious display of affection carving out my heart just a little bit more - looking away I set my muffin down, no longer hungry.

Pushing and shoving each other, Paul and Jacob finally show - unhurt and brotherly even. They just beat the shit out of each other and they’re tighter than ever? Boys.

“Sorry.” Paul apologizes and flashes what has to be his signature smile at both of us.

I catch Jacob jerking his head towards the door and Bella follows, probably off to explain this whole entire shit show. I turn my gaze to Embry and level a glare on my former friend, waiting for him to say something.

“You going to let me explain? Or are you going to look at me like you’d like to castrate me until Bella gets back?” Embry stares right back, munching on another muffin.

“Jared?” I look at him sweetly and he grins, “take me home?”

Embry stands so quick and his chair teeters dangerously on two legs for a moment. “Y/n.” His tone is hard, done with this game.

“Embry.” I match him back.

He walks out the front door and it drags me from my own chair, this blowout long overdue.

“You know now and you’re still fucking mad at me?” He turns, leaning against Bella’s truck and folding his arms.

“I don’t even know where to start, Embry!” I yell at him exasperated. “You ditched us, you ditched your longest running best friend-”

“I had no choice!”

“He’s struggling-”

“I’m struggling!” His eyes are wild and his hands have a slight shake, “Cutting everyone out has been the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done! I can’t tell anyone, can’t see anyone, can’t do what I want to do anymore! I belong to this Reservation, to this pack, to Sam now. He says jump, I ask how high. He says keep your mouth shut, I cut everyone out. It’s how it has to be.”

“Embry, that’s no way to live.” My heart breaks for his situation.

“It’s in my blood and not something I can opt out of, Y/n/n. Besides, they’re my brothers now and they need me as much as I need them.”

I surge forward to hug him, “I’m still mad at you for Quil.”

“I missed you too.” I hear his grin as I hug him tight. “You can’t tell him though.”

Immediately I retreat, “What?”

“It’s a tribe secret, the pack is sacred and must be protected.”

“He wouldn’t done anything to endanger-”

“It doesn’t matter, anyone on the outside has to stay on the outside. It’s not like I don’t want to, he’s my best fucking friend. But he doesn’t have a need-to-know.”

“Embry-”

“I can’t argue with you about this, please drop it.” His wide eyes plead with me and I surrender.

“Okay, okay. Consider it dropped.” I mime like I’m locking my lips closed and I toss the invisible key over my shoulder.

“Good,” throwing an arm over my shoulder, he leads me back inside, “Now you can hang with the big dogs.”

“Okay I’m going to need you to not make stupid jokes about this situation.” But I laugh anyways, I miss this - him.

I smile to myself, happy to finally have people back in my life that I thought were gone for good. I still feel the massive hole in my chest, but the pain is on the back burner for now.

At least until I’m alone again.

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

[imasl0tforchallengers]

I missed u.

Summary: During the night before the Challenger, Art knows Tashi is going to Patrick so he calls his ex, You. But ends unexpectedly.

Art Donaldson x reader!Oc. Kai Miller is you.

A/N: English is my third language, so bare with me. Minors DNI.

You sat at a bar, drinking Chardonnay, you had closed the bakery you owned, Glazed&Glory, you were tired, exhausted. The bartender asked if you wanted more, and you decided to get more. You had to prepare a huge order today, and you had a packed bakery since tomorrow is a tennis match being played at a nearby place from your bakery.

Tennis, you thought. Tennis was something you hadn't thought about since... Art Donaldson. It was now 2019 and 2006 was a long time ago. You moved on, right? "Another glass?" The bartender asked pushing you away from your thoughts. "Yes," you downed your glass. You stroll through your phone, checking if you had any messages. As you take a sip your phone rings, UNKNOWN NUMBER. It's probably a customer, you thought.

"We are closed, so sorry," You answered. "Kai?" You froze. "Hi, it's Art," You were silent, too stunned. What did he want? After thirteen years? "Um, I-" your breath was unstable. "I know, it's been a long time but I'm in town, I wanted to know if you would be okay with meeting me at Carl's." He said. Your mouth goes dry. "I-i-i don't know," you replied. "You don't have to, I just wanted to see how you we-" he continued. "I'm already here," you cringe.

"Oh? Can I meet you there?" Art asked, his voice dripped with desperation. "Um, sure" you said. "Ok, I'll be there in 5," he replied. "Kai?" He said. "Yeah?" You downed your glass. "It's good hearing your voice," you almost choked. You quickly hung up. You took in very deep breathes. Art? Art Donaldson?

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"Kai Miller?" You turned around. "Art Donaldson," you forced a smile. "It's been so long," Art said. He pulled you into a hug, his fingers burning through the fabric of your sundress. He hugged you tightly before saying, "You still smell so good, I will never get used to it," you cough softly.

You both sat on barstools. "So..." Art trailed. "How have you been?" he sat back as he ordered a beer. "Good. I see you and Tashi have been busy," he avoided your eyes, clearing his throat he said, "Ah, Tashi...yeah, we're doing great, so is Lily," you looked confused because you were. "Sorry, who's Lily?" You asked. "Um, our daughter," his eyes wandered.

Daughter? Your chest tightened, "Oh," you remembered how much you two wanted kids together. Art cleared his throat snapping you out of your trance. "What have you been up to?" He looked into your eyes. "I own a bakery, now, three branches," His eyes stayed on me. "What is it called?" He asked. "Glazed&Glory." He choked on his beer, eyes widening. "Holy shit," he coughed. "What?" You queried. "That's where we order donuts in California, Lily loves them, I love them" He explained smiling, you couldn't believe your bakery drew attention to the likes of the Donaldson's. "Aw, thanks," you smiled. "But I knew they tasted familiar, I missed your baking, how you would bring me glazed donuts after tennis practice," he looked at you, his gaze lingering at your lips as you drank your Chardonnay.

You two spoke until midnight, catching up and telling each other on what was missed. "So you and Lloyd dated?" He chuckled as you told him about your ex from Stanford. "Yeah," you giggled, the alcohol taking over your body. He watched as your breasts bounced at each movement, his eyes remained, thinking about how much he wanted to see you again, feel you, and care for you. "So you single right now?" He asked. You nodded. "I think I'm gonna go to the restroom, be right back," he said.

"M'kay," you replied. As he got up, someone pushed him, knocking her beer over and spilling it onto your sundress soaking your chest. "Fuck!" The sundress was wet, revealing your lacy red bra. "I'm sorry," Art used his hoodie to try and wipe away. He felt himself grow hard as he stared at your breasts. You looked up at him catching him staring. You quickly looked away. He inched closer, you breathed out. "Art..." Before you could say anything, his lips were against yours. His arms brought you closer. You kissed him back, "Art..." You gasped.

"You have no idea of much I've missed you," he said between the kiss. He grabbed your hand leading you the restroom, and locking the door. He captured your lips pinning you against the wall. "Art, you'r-" you said. "I'm what, baby?" He asked as his hand raked up your thigh. Your breath hitched. "You're m-married," you managed to say. "I know," he said, continuing. You pushed him off, "What?" He asked confused. "No, Art," you sighed. You couldn't let him, "You love Tashi," you said stepping back. "You serious? You gonna talk about Tashi?" He said. "Yes, why are you here, Art?" You queried. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I-i-i don't know, I- t-thought," he stopped speaking. He stood there recollecting his thoughts.

You looked at him, waiting for his response, "I just wanted to see you again," he said. "Why?" He looked at you, "I just wan-" he continued. "Want what? Why are you here? You made it clear that you didn't want me," you huffed, gaining anger. He was shocked by the sudden anger. "You chose Tashi over me, right? I needed you, I choose Stanford over Harvard for you, now I need to know, what the fuck are you doing here?" He did betray you. He looked at you, tears brimming his eyes. "Tashi is with Patrick right now," his voice cracking. "I needed someone,"

You stepped back, you chuckled, "So you call me? Really? Me?" He nodded. "Fuck, you are so fucked up, Art, you call me just because the women you married isn't with you? Just because she is fucking Patrick? Wow," Your chest tightened, a painful pang shocking your chest. "I see what this is, I'm a rebound," You pushed him. "No, Kai, you ar-" You slapped him. The noise filled the restroom. "What? We are not going to fuck, Art," You squared up to him, looking up at him.

"Your little wife doesn't want you, anymore?" You asked. Tears stung your eyes. "You are pathetic, Art," his jaw tightened. "Fuck. You."

You unlocked the door and left.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

A/N: Thanks for reading. Maybe part two???

[forge7menot]

In The Air (Tonight)

Pairings: Patrick x Reader, Tashi x Reader, Tashi x Art

Word count: 2.7k

Content warnings: alcohol use, suggestive content

Notes: Hi everyone! This is my first time writing a ff but I love Challengers with all my heart so I thought I'd give it a try. English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes don't pay too much attention to them!! Also, I despise the use of “Y/N”, that's why I tried to make it as neutral as I could.

Summer 2006, New York: 10:45 PM

Your room was a mess. Not only were there piles of dresses, colorful crop tops and jeans scattered across the floor like confetti, but you still couldn’t decide what to wear. And it was getting pretty late —at least, too late for your liking一 as the faint sound of “SOS” by Rihanna drifting from nearby bars hinted at the start of another sleepless Saturday night.

“Where’s the mascara?”

“Right in there,” you said, pointing at your makeup bag while your head was still buried deep in your closet. This bra isn't even mine, you thought, picking it up before tossing it on the ground. Tashi was too busy curling her eyelashes to hear the cellphone that had been buzzing for the past five minutes.

"Tash, could you please get it?" you grabbed a pair of low-rise, medium-wash bootcut jeans and looked at them with a satisfied grin before sneaking your legs in them as Tashi’s manicured nail pressed the green button to accept the call.

"We're still not ready," you heard her say and Art groaned on the other end.

"Are you serious? You said that an hour ago!"

"I am, unfortunately. I'll text you when we're finished.” Tashi ended the call before he could say a word.

She's been your closest friend since middle school. It was around that time that she started to invite you to watch her tennis matches on Sunday afternoons, just to hang out later. You've been incredibly supportive of her love for tennis ever since.

She even tried to teach you how to play, which led to you spraining your ankle once—after that, she didn't push you to try again.

However, you were always there at her matches: front rows, holding a big sign with her name on it, rooting for her.

That's also how you met Patrick and Art, Fire and Ice: the two of them were also tennis players, which is why they already knew Tashi very well. The four of you quickly became close after your first encounter at a party, which ended with smoking cigarettes by the beach and engaging in random conversations.

It was quite obvious that Art, the blond one, had a thing for her from the first night you all spent together. You still remember how he was staring at her in awe as she explained to Patrick, the brunet one, how “you can actually build something out of ice while fire just tends to burn shit down”—it was obviously an innuendo to his technique. Art could hardly hide his grin as she tore into it, watching her like he’d just discovered something rare. You wondered if she noticed—or if she was just used to his attention by now.

As for you, you weren’t really looking for a relationship and you’d come to peace with the fact that being single was probably the chillest you’d ever been. At the same time, you couldn’t deny that Patrick was a really cool guy—not just for his confidence and personality, but because he was fucking hot. Sure, he was flirtier with you than with most people and maybe that got under your skin a little. But you often asked yourself if it was real interest or just his way of being; you hadn’t quite decided yet.

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The clock on the dresser blinked 11:10 PM, the glowing digits reminding you both that Art and Patrick were probably rolling their eyes somewhere across town. They’d waited this long, but you knew they’d wait a little longer.

Tashi was finally dressed, wearing a dark blue one-shoulder mini dress and a wide black belt with a large buckle that you’d gladly lent her. She was already pretty tall, but that didn’t stop her from slipping on the black peep-toe heels you two had bought together just a few hours ago. “One thing I like about my height is that ugly short boys can’t even try with me. I can’t hear them at all!” she’d joked in the shoe aisle.

As she carefully helped you curl your hair, you slipped on a white vest-style top with a V-neck. “Do you think I should add a necklace or something?” you asked, gesturing to the empty space just above your collarbones.

“How about that black beaded necklace with the heart pendant your grandma got you for your birthday?” she suggested, turning off the curling iron. “It contrasts perfectly with white.”

“You’re a genius!”

You fastened the necklace, running a finger over the heart pendant, feeling a hint of comfort.

There was just one last thing left to do before leaving the house: post a photo of Tashi and you on MySpace - where, of course, she was placed first in your TOP 8 and you were placed first in hers.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The two boys had been leaning against the stone ledge outside the club for a solid twenty minutes, watching people trickle in. Art had insisted on getting there early—“in case there’s a line.”

Patrick had rolled his eyes at the time, knowing you and Tashi weren’t even close to ready yet. They’d both checked their phones multiple times, refreshing messages and waiting for a sign. Then, Patrick’s phone buzzed.

He glanced down and let out a low laugh, nudging Art with his elbow. “Look at this,” he said, tilting the screen toward him: a freshly uploaded photo on Tashi’s MySpace page, clearly taken in your room. The two of you were posing in front of a mirror flashing playful peace signs with the caption “NYC nightlife, here we come!”

Art squinted at the screen, his smile widening. “Well, at least we know they’re coming,” he said with a chuckle. “Though judging by that post, they’re not exactly in a rush.”

Patrick shook his head, amused. He put his phone back in his pocket, feigning indifference but sneaking glances at the entrance.

Another ten minutes passed, during which Art fiddled with his phone, checking Tashi’s page and refreshing it as if a new post might appear any second.

Patrick caught him doing it and snickered. “Dude, you’re practically stalking her page. Can you look any more desperate?”

Art shrugged, unfazed. “It’s called keeping informed, man.”

Just then, his phone buzzed again—a new notification. But this time, it was a message from Tashi: “Almost there. Keep your shirts on, boys. ;-)”

Finally, Art spotted you and Tashi across the street, walking toward the club entrance, laughing and leaning on each other as you navigated the crowded sidewalk.

He elbowed Patrick, who looked up just in time to see you both smiling, looking effortlessly glamorous under the city lights.

“There they are,” Art said, relief mixed with excitement in his voice.

Patrick’s exasperation faded, replaced by a grin. “About time,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.

As the both of you got closer to them Tashi smirked, flipping her long brown hair over one shoulder with a dramatic flair.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, boys,” she said with mock sincerity. “Had to make sure the MySpace crowd knew we were out tonight.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Oh, trust me, we saw. Next time, maybe just send us a smoke signal instead.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you shot back with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the whole situation.

Tashi turned to Art, who was still smiling as he took her in. “You think we look worth the wait?”

Art nodded, a bit too enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I mean, you posted a teaser and everything—how could we not stick around?”

As the two of them were already flirting, you turned your face towards Patrick.

“Hello, sweetness,” he greeted, slipping an arm around your shoulders with a familiarity that felt both bold and strangely comforting. He always called you that—sweetness—ever since you’d mentioned your obsession with the song “Bigmouth Strikes Again” by The Smiths. You weren’t sure if he was teasing you or if he actually liked the nickname, but you didn’t mind it, even if you’d never admit that out loud.

“I hope you still would not like to smash every tooth in my head,” he continued, his grin widening as he quoted the song. His gaze lingered on you, mischievous and a little too pleased with himself.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “I’m not that violent, you know. I’m more of a pacifist.”

Patrick chuckled, giving your shoulder a little squeeze as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Oh yeah? I don’t know. I think you’ve got a bit of a fire in you. A little spark.”

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “A spark, huh? Guess I’m playing for your team then,” you hinted at the nickname people would always give to him on the tennis court.

“That’s the best decision you could ever make,” he shot back, flashing you a grin that was just this side of cocky. His hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment longer before he finally let it drop, but not before brushing his fingers lightly down your arm. It was a subtle touch, but enough to send a small, pleasant shiver down your spine.

As the four of you finally stepped into the club, you were hit by a wall of sound, the bass vibrating through the floor and up into your bones. The music was loud—really loud—the kind of beat that left no room for conversation, only dancing and shouted exchanges.

Strobe lights and neon beams cut through the darkness, casting fleeting shades of blue, purple and red across the crowd, turning everyone into silhouettes and glimmers. The air was thick with the scent of spilled cocktails (that’s what almost made you gag), mingling with a faint haze of cigarette smoke and the sharp tang of cologne and perfume. People were laughing, shouting, swaying in sync, some raising their arms in time with the music.

On one side there was a raised platform where a few braver dancers were showing off their moves, illuminated by a set of blinding white lights that flickered on and off. On the opposite end, a long bar stretched out under soft, glowing light, bartenders moving swiftly as they mixed colorful cocktails, sliding them to customers.

You felt Patrick’s hand on your back, guiding you gently through the crowd as Tashi and Art led the way, squeezing past groups of people until you found a good spot by the bar.

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You didn’t even know what time it was as you sipped on your Cosmopolitan, comfortably nestled into the soft cushions of the booth, when suddenly you felt Tashi’s hand on your shoulder.

“Everything alright?” she asked, sliding in next to you, nearly out of breath as she tried to recover from the last half hour of nonstop dancing: her cheeks were flushed and you could tell she was enjoying the break just as much as you were.

“Yeah, absolutely. This drink is bomb,” you said, pointing at your glass before downing the last sip. “So, what did I miss while I was out here living my best life?” you asked, giving her a playful look.

“Patrick and Art are still out there trying to one-up each other’s dance moves. It’s… something else. You’re missing quite the show.”

As the two of you were talking, a girl dressed in a bold, sparkly top and a low ponytail approached your booth, her arms loaded with a tangle of neon bracelets. She flashed a wide grin as she held them out.

"Hey, ladies! Care for a little light?" she offered, her voice barely cutting through the music.

Tashi’s face lit up as she leaned forward, picking out a few.

“Oh, these are perfect! Thank you!” She slipped a neon pink one onto her wrist, watching it glow under the lights. You took a couple yourself—a bright blue and green.

“Y’all look amazing, by the way!” the girl shouted with a wink before slipping back into the crowd, leaving you both with your new accessories.

Tashi tilted her wrist, admiring the soft glow. “Okay, this is exactly what I needed to get back out there.” She shot you a playful look, her neon-pink bracelet gleaming as she offered you a hand. “Coming with me?”

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The thump of the bass vibrated through the soles of your heels as you and Tashi weaved your way through the crowd.

You found the two boys near the center of the floor, bouncing with the beat of the music.

The brunet spotted you and Tashi first, his eyes lighting up when he saw the bracelets glowing on your wrists. He flashed you a knowing grin and moved fluidly through the crowd towards you. Art followed his lead and came over too.

“Didn’t think you’d make it out here,” Patrick said with a sly grin, his voice cutting through the bass of the song.

Tashi turned to Art and gave him a wink.

“We couldn’t resist, could we?” she laughed as Art pulled her into the rhythm of the music, his hands gently guiding her into the groove.

You stood next to Patrick, feeling his energy just as strongly as he could feel yours and for a moment the connection was undeniable. The way his body moved with the music was drawing you in: he extended a hand towards you, his fingers brushing against your wrist as he gestured for you to join him.

“Don’t be shy,” he said, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. Without hesitation you placed your hand in his, allowing him to pull you deeper into the rhythm of the dance.

Patrick was a master of subtlety—his touch, his movements, everything about him felt so deliberate. The music wrapped around you and, for a moment, there was no one else in the room but the two of you.

As you spun into the next move, Patrick’s hand landed on your lower back, the contact warm and possessive as he gently guided you.

In response, you placed your palms on his clothed shoulders. The alcohol in your system gradually made you bolder than usual.

The proximity was intoxicating.

His gaze never wavered from you, his lips curving into that playful, knowing smile. When he leaned in closer the tension was thick and almost overwhelming.

“You’re a natural,” he whispered, his hand now resting at your side, fingertips grazing the skin of your hip. You couldn’t help but shiver at the contact.

“Probably because I’ve got such a good teacher,” you teased him.

Whatever was happening felt more than just a casual connection: the closeness, the unspoken tension, the way you moved together—it all felt too real to ignore.

The air between you felt charged, each beat of the music syncing your heartbeats closer together.

As the song transitioned into something slower, the change in tempo didn’t break the tension—it only amplified it. His breath was warm against your cheek and his lips hovered just near your ear. Your heartbeat was so loud, you thought it might drown out his voice.

“You feel that?” Patrick’s breath was warm against your ear, the words almost like a challenge. You swallowed hard. The music still pounded, but it felt like it was coming from miles away.

“Feel what?” you asked, trying to hold onto control but knowing you were losing it.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your gazes locked. You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words caught in your throat.

Patrick’s lips were so close to yours at that moment.

Your breath hitched as both his hands found the softness and warmth of your cheeks, holding the flesh.

You tilted your head, just enough to close the gap and in a move that felt almost inevitable. His lips brushed yours—soft at first, like a question. You feel that?

When you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, one of his hands moving to your neck.

In that moment, everything else ceased to exist: the world outside of the dancefloor—the crowd, the flashing lights, the music—faded away.

The kiss was heady, slow, a direct answer to the question that had been hanging in the air between you two.

When you finally broke away, breathless, your forehead rested against his, both of you struggling to regain some semblance of control.

Needless to say, that night you didn’t fall asleep alone. And you certainly didn’t fall asleep in your bed.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Night in New Orleans

Normally the men Y/N is in charge of managing are the ones getting in trouble, not the other way arround. This time, while shooting in Louisiana for the second movie, it’s a bit of both.

Johnny Knoxville X Gn!Reader, Bam Margera X Gn!Reader (if you squint)

(Fluff)

5.7k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, crude language, heavy nudity, alcohol, drug use, fights, blood, hurt/comfort, flirting, stripping, fighting

An: Another manager Y/N fic!! I can’t seem to get away from this premise for the life of me! XD they’re just so fun to write for!! Also as proof of how much research goes into these fics, every location mentioned in this fic is entirely real and on Bourbon Street! I had an ex that went to New Orleans but I’ve never been there myself, so I could only hope it’s as wild as I immagine it to be! Also, this fic takes place ~2006 during the filming of Jackass Number Two because they filmed a good chunk of that movie in Louisiana! Anyways,thank you for sending in requests and please keep sending them!

Backroads seemed to stretch on forever as you ranted to Jeff on the phone, “MTV is not paying me enough for this shit! I mean, it's bad enough I gotta spend every day with idiots, now I’m the one who’s gotta find them when they run off?” The dusty road ahead of you was solely illuminated by the one working headlight on the van as you drove through the darkness, your only source of direction being the man you were on the phone with, “It's not my fault they decided to run off to some ranch in the middle of Nowhere, Louisiana!” You rolled your eyes, leaning forward against the wheel to try and see ahead as he sighed, “Listen, we gotta shoot in the morning so just get them back to the hotel. Manage the talent!” Click.

Fuckin Jeff, making you go out in the middle of the night in the stupid van that was bumbling allong on its last legs- you didn’t even want to immagine what went down in it based on how it smelled. The whole ‘manage the talent’ thing became almost a motto for when shit turned sour but calling them talent was an overstatement. This is what chauffeurs- better yet, the town dog catcher is for, not managers. Thanks to his amazing directions, you ended up at a ranch, sure, but it seemed practically deserted as you pulled up into the dirt parking lot. Squinting into the darkness, you could barely make out the carved writing on the wooden sign that hung over the front gate that read, ‘New-D Ranch’, whatever that meant. You waited for a few minutes, trying to catch a breeze from the one working AC vent while wondering why the hell you hadn’t quit already to find a job somewhere a little more sane before you heard the swish of the doors behind you opening.

You knew it was Johnny who called shotgun when you heard the slight twang in his grumble as he slid in the passenger seat, “Christ, for a nudist ranch you’d think there’d be more chicks…” Blinking, you turned to him, looking him up and down. Shoulders, chest, thighs- oh god he was naked. Well, naked save for those stupid sunglasses he never seemed to take off. The guys chattered amongst themselves in the back seat as you whipped your head around- yeah, them too. Knoxville must have seen how big your eyes got or the blush that spread across your cheeks, and judging by the way he chuckled a little and let his knees drift apart as he settled down in his seat, he didn’t seem to mind. Pervert. It’s not like you could help it that he was so shameless and all blue and glowy from the way the moon kissed his skin. Finally, you got your words out, yanking the van into gear as you peeled out, “Why are you all naked?”

Admittedly, you were speeding a little down the desolate road while Chris and Steve filled you in on how they heard about this totally rad nudie ranch from this guy at the hotel bar and were down to get with some really hot chicks that night, but all they found there were dudes and farm animals. Every now and then you would sneak a glance over at Johnny who was still wearing that shit eating grin he always had when he knew he was pushing your buttons. You didn’t want to debate yourself if this whole thing was turning you on or pissing you off, but you didn’t have a whole lot of time to consider it as you saw those flashing red and blue lights in your rear view mirror. Shit.

What a perfect time to get pulled over. Veering the car off to the gravelly shoulder, you did the routine. Yes officer. No, I don’t know why I got pulled over. My license? Oh sure! Right here, officer! He flashed that stupid little flashlight inside the car and audibly gasped as he gawked at the proud exhibitionists- that is, all except Bam, who was redder than a tomato and practically squirming in his seat as he desperately tried to cover up his junk. You could tell Officer Friendly got a little uncomfortable with the way Chris suggestively raised his eyebrows at him from the way he stuttered as he continued his police spiel, “May I ask why you are out at this hour with a- a van full of nude men?” Thinking for a moment, you tried to come up with a worthwhile excuse, “Well, I, uh- these are my brothers, officer, and they had a little too much to drink tonight, so they called me to pick them up from the bar!” Making eye contact across the center counsel, Johnny nodded with a very clear tone of amusement in his voice, “Yeah, brothers.” The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

All the cop could do was awkwardly ask for your license and go back to his car, leaving you alone in the oppressive humidity and near silence as crickets chirped faintly. Turning around, about to deliver the lecture of a lifetime, you noticed Steve eerily uiet and nevrous, of all things. Looking up at you from his nails that he was biting to the nub, there was a trace of panic in Steve’s eyes as he started, not even waiting for you to ask what was wrong, “I’m fuckin’ naked and I gotta warrant, man! I-I can’t go t’jail- not like this…” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics- really it wouldn’t surprise you if they all had warrants based on the shit you had to get them out of. As he stood up a little to get a better view out the front window, he anxiously bounced his leg, murmuring to himself, “Fuck, man. That’s it. I-I’m gonna make a run for it.” Your eyes shot open and you pushed him back into his seat. If there was anything you didn’t need tonight, it was a naked man under your care on the loose, so you shut that down fast, “Steve! Stay!”

When the cop returned, the guys turned to look in completely different directions so as to not appear suspicious as you got the news that everything seemed fine with your license. He let you off with a warning and a shake of his head, muttering something about you taking your brothers home to sober up and getting some damn clothes on them while you were at it. Yes, officer. Thank you, have a nice night, officer. As you started back to the hotel, Chris, who was previously distracted by looking at fireflies out the window, noticed something, “Woah, dude. What’s wrong?” Glancing in your rear view mirror as you pulled away, you saw Bam, in between Steve and Chris, white as a ghost with sweat just pouring down his face. Running a hand through his soaked curls, he shook his head, “Shit, dude! I was worried- like, I-I’m small and cute! And naked!” Johnny turned to face him and piped up, “And famous.” Bam disregarded any traces of sarcasm as he turned to you, “And famous! I’d get the shit kicked out of me, dude!” With how cool these guys were normally, the way they freaked out when a cop showed up surprised you.

By some miracle you made it to the hotel, a motel, if you were being honest, in the middle of bourbon street. The place was the definition of a shithole, but you’d stayed in worse and it was better than sleeping in the van so you made do with the used condoms under the bed and roaches in the bathroom because if they could survive this, so could you. Not wanting to leave the guys unsupervised for too long, you decided that your best bet at getting the guys from the car to the room would have to be something in the near vicinity, and while scanning the parking lot, you got an idea so good it made you want to ask for a raise. An assured grin crossed your face, ”I’ll be back.” Just as you were halfway out the door you heard Bam protest with an exhausted sigh, “Fuck it! I’m going with you.” He climbed over Chris to open the door, putting his hands up as he got over his previously held shyness at being nude in front of others, “I’ve been sittin’ between two naked dudes and I gotta get the fuck outta here.” Stopping just before an indecent exposure charge, he held his hand out to you, “Gimme your jacket.”

Begrudgingly handing over your hoodie to Bam, he casually tied it around his waist backwards to cover his crotch loincloth-style as you made a mental note to wash it before you wore it next time it got chilly. Decent enough, you thought, shaking your head as you walked towards the shitty hotel pool that glowed teal in the night. You tried to pretend he wasn’t there as he followed on your heels through the parking lot and through the metal gates that fenced the pool in. As you nearly dove into the big plastic green thing that housed the neatly folded towels, you heard Johnny wolf whistle from the van. Initially assuming that it was directed towards you, you flipped up, clutching an armful of fluffy white fabric, but before you could shout something back you very quickly noticed that Bam’s pale little ass was just completely out. Goddamn it. As you handed out the towels, he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest when Chris chuckled and said something about hating to see Bam go but loving to watch him leave.

Making sure to stay behind the group like a Border Collie to a herd of sheep, you marched the idiots through the lobby who were miraculously dry despite allegedly having come from the pool. As celebrities go, they didn’t attract as much attention as you would have otherwise expected, but that didn’t stop a few drunken women splayed out in the wide, red silk upholstered chairs in the lobby from loudly propositioning them. Steve threw up a ‘call me’ gesture and Bam dragged his feet, whining something about you never letting them have any fun as you nudged them along. You were so exhausted that you didn’t even bat an eye when Chris ‘accidentally’ dropped his towel and glanced back at you with a finger over his lips like one of those pin up girls. Humorously snatching the towel off of the ground, you shoved it into his arms as you all crowded into the tiny, rickety elevator that was surely over it”s weight limit. How strange it must have looked from an outsider’s perspective- you and four nearly naked men, all packed shoulder to shoulder into that tiny space. But you were too tired to care about any of that, leaning your forehead against the wall with a thump as the doors closed.

You were the one Jeff gave the keys to because you were the only one deemed responsible enough, so you tossed them to Bam as he passed you in the hall, but while the others were stumbling in and tossing off their towels, Johnny lingered in the hall as you went to unlock your room. The hallway was only maybe wide enough for you to stand on one side and stretch your arm out to touch the other side, so you really had to look up to talk to him, “Where’re you going?” Holding his towel up far too low with one hand, Johnny shrugged, leaning against the wall opposite to you, “M’goin t’our room.” Most people, if they were in your shoes, staring up maybe six inches away from this ruggedly handsome, partially nude man, would fold like a house of cards, but you were not most people, so you kept your composure. Shrugging, you unlocked your room. “No, this is my room.” The dryness of your words contracted with the playful tone in his voice, “You sure ‘bout that?” Tossing your keys into the bed, you turned to him flatly, “Yep!” Johnny shrugged, turning to leave before dropping his towel. He cackled that signature Knoxville laugh, picking it up only after he heard you snicker from your doorway.

After sending the kids off to daycare, you finally got a moment to yourself. Your day was mostly spent lounging about your room, trying to savor the peace and quiet however short lived it may be. But it came to a stop all too soon when your hotel room phone started ringing- it was Bam, who was apparently too lazy to just go next door and knock. He mumbled over the line, sounding a little embarrassed to ask you, “We wanna go out, n’Jeff says we can’t without you.” This premise never ends well. Hearing your sigh, he turned defensive, “Hey! We just wanna go get some food, okay? That’s it! Jeez…” In the background, you could hear Johnny say something about how the boys were starvin’ over there. “Okay, fine!” You relented after hesitating for a moment, “As long as it's just for food.”

The group walked through a blur of light and sound, dazzling neon signs flanking either side of the street: Bourbon Gifts Cigar Shop, Tropical Isle- Home of the Hand Grenade, signs advertising $5 Jager Bombs, but no restaurants. The guys seemed to have completely forgotten about looking for dinner, more concerned with what trouble they could get into than feeding themselves. “C’mon, Bam! I know this kickass voodoo lady that lives ‘round here- she’ll totally get us footage!” Steve’s excitement was met with a shudder, “No fuckin way, man. Like I wanna get hit by brooms’n play with snakes ‘n shit.” Maybe the fact that Johnny was holding the portable video camera from the hotel room should’ve tipped you off that they may not have been on the prowl for food. He chuckled, turning to Steve, “She sounds sweet. Think’y could get me her number?”

So far you had done a pretty good job at keeping the guys together, even if you had to grab their hands and tug them through the crowds like you were their mother when you caught them rubbernecking to peep into whatever strip club you were walking past. Suddenly, you saw Chris dart away from the pack. You weren't sure if it was the Penthouse Club, the Kama Sutra Cabaret, or Lary Flynt’s Hustler Club that he b-lined it into, but just as soon as he did, the rest of the guys followed quickly behind, leaving you stranded. Knowing how much shit you would get into if you lost one of them or god forbid someone got arrested, you went after them.

Given your line of work, you would’ve thought that, by this point, you would have gotten a little more familiar with the inside of one of these places, but nope. This place was on some real Girls, Girls, Girls shit, like the image of a strip club- mirror poles, velvet tablecloths, and women wearing barely more than a smile and nine inch heels. Averting your eyes from the ladies onstage, you let out a sigh of relief when you spotted Knoxville sitting at the bar. Hopping up onto the tall red vinyl stool next to him, you let out a sigh of relief as Johnny glanced over to you and let out a chuckle, taking a sip of his beer before reassuring you like he could read your concerns without you having to open your mouth, “If you’re lookin’ for the fellas, they’re out on the floor. S’not like they’re goin’ far”

Rolling your eyes, you kept your head low as you scouted the place out. “I thought we were gettin’ dinner.” This was not the kind of place you wanted to be found in, and you bet Johnny could tell from how entertained he seemed at your discomfort, looking you up and down, “Well, for these guys, this is dinner.” You couldn’t deny, you actually were kinda hungry, distracting yourself by eyeing the initials that were keyed into the countertop, “I don’t even think they have food here…” Knoxville nudged a glass bowl of peanuts sitting on the bar top toward you with a smirk. “Here,” He grabbed one himself, crushing the shell in his hand before tossing one in his mouth with a smirk, “Lemme buy you dinner.” Taking one from the bowl yourself, you scoffed, a smile ghosting over your face as you murmured, “Oh, you’re quite the gentleman, Knoxville. Strip joint and peanuts.” Laughing, he relented to you, “Alright, how about I make it up to you with a nice dinner sometime- one good dinner? I owe you.” Wait, was he asking you on a date? Before you could consider maybe taking him up on that offer, you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Hey, hey- Y/N!”

Turning around, you weren’t sure if you were annoyed or relieved to see Bam standing behind you, holding out a fifty, “Y’got any singles?” It was like a kid asking his mom for money to go to the movies. Johnny shrugged, turning to you to remark, “I mean, at least he’s tippin’ the ladies. Not like Steve-O over there.” He jabbed a thumb at the corner where Steve sat, a herd of women clustered around him. Sure, Steve never tipped, but every time you saw him at the club, he was never drooling over the strippers. Instead, he would be sitting over in the corner, just chatting up the ladies while they were on their break. Strangely enough, they always seemed to be more than eager to hang out with him, waving and blowing him kisses as they headed back onstage. It bewildered you, but it was kinda sweet in a weird way. “Wha- no! I don’t have any singles!” Bam shrugged at your reaction, turning to walk away, “Ah, I’m sure I can get some at the bar. Thanks though!”

The question you were about to ask Johnny, about where Chris was at, was answered before you could ask it. Just as Bam ran up to the edge of the stage with a handful of singles, excited to see some T and A, you could see his face just fall as he muttered to himself at the sight in front of him, “This is so fucked up….” You yourself stared slack jawed as Johnny snickered at the sight of Party Boy himself strutting out onto the stage wearing nothing but his silver mankini while the beginning riff of one of those cock rock strip club songs started up. Not one to miss this kind of thing for the world, Knoxville whipped out the camera to capture the wide eyed shock in Bam’s eyes that turned to disgust when Chris started his little routine, eyeing the fat stack of ones in his hand. He kept inching closer and closer to the edge of the stage- specifically, closer to Bam. Getting down on his knees, Chris wasn’t shy in the slightest about shaking what he had (which he had quite a great deal of), barely inches from his face. Even you couldn’t deny that he was pretty damn good up there, and it seemed that Johnny agreed as he got up to toss a couple singles up there with a whistle. As the song reached a crescendo, everything seemed to reach a fever pitch and Bam hurriedly shoved the bills in his arms onto the stage, unable to stand it any longer, “Just take my money- and get your junk outa my face!” Pontius smirked, tucking the cash in the strap of his mankini with a wink. He whispers something you couldn’t quite hear, but you assumed was some sort of flirty comment from the way Bam rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You know, this is how I wanna spend my night.” Johnny turned to you as you tried to speak up over the music, “Watching Chris strip.” He chuckled, leaning back on the sticky bar, drink in hand. “Yeah, me too.” The incandescent lights of the club looked so pretty in the reflection of Johnny’s glasses that you hardly noticed when Bam ran back to the bar in the stupid little way he ran everywhere, as Candy or Trixie or whoever was strutting out onstage. He just happened to cross paths with Chris, walking off the stage and flipping through all fifty two dollars he got. Bam stopped him in his tracks with a hand on his baby oil covered chest, “Dude. Gimme my money back.” Chris just gave him that stoner laugh and shook his head, “No way! I earned this. How about you go up there and shake your little moneymaker?” Bam turned a little red and debated arguing or just getting more money. Looking back up at the stage, he gave in, more concerned with what article of clothing the girl on stage was shedding than his own money.

But just a few moments later, it was him who was getting physically tossed out onto the sidewalk, landing on his ass. All you saw was this little dark blur getting hoisted up by this bouncer twice it’s size and going flying out the doors. Of course, all the guys followed behind, laughing as he stumbled to his feet. “Rookie mistake, man.” Steve joked, his hands in his pockets as a curious few of the ladies peered out the door after him. You should’ve known that of all people it would be Bam who got a little too handsy with the girls. Nobody on the street even stared at the spectacle as you fled outside after them. “Okay, that’s it- let’s just call it a night.” The guys collectively groaned about you being a killjoy and begged for just one more stop at another bar for a nightcap as you threw your hands up in the air, not easily swayed, “C’mon, it’s a sign. Let’s just get you all back to the hotel…”

You got them safely tucked away in their room for the night, but of course the chaos didn’t cease. Maybe an hour passed after you collapsed onto your mattress with the lights off, trying to get a few hours of shuteye before you had to deal with them in the morning when the shouting started. Chalking it up to some couple having a marital dispute next door, you brushed it off until you realized which room it was coming from. Oh. Oh no. Clambering to your feet, you jumped at the telltale sound of an appliance shattering against a wall and tried to run the numbers of how much that’d cost to cover as you scrambled out the door. Hoping it was just a coffee maker or something and not a repeat of the time Bam hurled an entire Zenith television out of a plate glass door, you barged in the room.

Now, you didn’t know what the argument was initially about, but you got the gist of it as Steve’s elbow made contact with your mouth, slamming into you. Everything froze. Just your luck to get caught in the crossfire of one of his drug induced fits. Bam, who was on the other side of the room, was completely shirtless, as was Steve, but significantly more all together mentally and seeming to be on the other side of whatever conflict was happening. Running your tongue over your teeth, you confirmed that none of them were missing, but that wet iron taste lingered on your lips. “Holy shit…” This quickly sobered Steve up, whose voice was barely a whisper as he watched the blood that got Jackson Pollocked all over your face drip down your chin and neck. That was one way to break up a fight.

Blood trickled down the drain as you held yourself over the bathroom sink in the guys’ room, blinking away the tears that swelled in your eyes. Everyone cries when they get hit in the nose- it’s probably a reflex or something, you thought, not that it hurt that bad. Glancing up to the mirror, you caught sight of someone standing in the doorway- Knoxville, holding this ice pack he fashioned out of a towel full of ice from the hall. It seemed that your waterworks had really gotten his attention, judging from the concerned tone in his voice, “Y’alright?” Taking it from him, you gently pressed it to your face, wincing at the cold sting. “M’fine.” He smirked but the tone of his voice was still present as he sat down on the lid of the toilet seat next to you, “You sure?” Johnny waved you closer, gesturing for you to lean down towards him. You did, and he reached out to gently grasp your chin, “Lemme see…well, that might leave a mark.” It was an oddly intimate moment, feeling his noticeably larger hand on top of yours as he went to move the ice pack. Leaning it to get a better look at your face, Johnny smiled just barely, “I think you’re gonna be alright.”

With the way the guys treated you the next day, you would’ve thought you were the queen of England. When you woke them up the next day, they didn’t whine or complain in the slightest, instead obediently getting out of bed and starting to get ready, avoiding your gaze. You felt like the headmaster at some British private school for undisciplined boys. As you stood idly in the doorway, perplexed at their sudden shift in behavior, you noticed something- Knoxville was MIA, and it seemed that nobody cared or was willing to say anything to you. Dipping your head in the door, you scanned the room, “Does anyone know where-“

Jumping a little, you caught your breath after the initial surprise when you realized it was Johnny who was standing next to you out in the hallway, maybe six inches away. He smirked at how easily he startled you and wordlessly handed you one of the two complementary breakfast coffees he had in his hands. Look at Mr. Suave-Cool, coming in with the apology drinks. Still, you weren't going to say no. Taking a sip and pondering how he could be the constant center of attention and, at the same time, so damn sneaky, you didn’t even notice when Bam sprang up from his bed, scampering to lean against the doorframe behind you. While all of the guys were quietly doing it already, Bam seemed the most eager to grovel, not even waiting for you to turn towards him before he started fawning with uncharacteristic earnestness, “Hey, I just wanna tell you I am so sorry about last night- I mean, it was totally Steve’s fault, but I feel so bad!” Immediately, you turned to Bam and looked him up and down, as did Johnny, who snickered at the fact that he was standing there without a care in the world, totally naked. At this point in the trip you were so desensitized to the male nudity that you didn’t even say anything. From behind him in the room Steve, who had his shirt halfway over his head, was clearly over his faux niceness by the way barked at Bam, “Oh, fuck you man!” But when you made eye contact with him, his ego shrank up like he just got into a cold pool as his voice dropped a decibel, “I-I mean, you looked pretty rad with all the blood and stuff...” Chris, who was totally unbothered by all of this, just smiled at you as earnest as ever, “Yeah! The blood was totally sexy, dude!”

“Is there anything I can do to make it up?” Bam looked at you with this eager to please look on his face, and you weren't one to pass up this opportunity. You thought that hell would freeze over before any of these guys would ask to do something nice for you. “Well…if you really want, you could grab me a danish from down front.” He started off before he glanced down and noticed the obvious. Quickly running back into the room to tug on a pair of jeans- no underwear, Bam slipped past you and ran down the hall in that same stupid way he did at the strip club.

While the guys were out for the day, you shot a call over to Ed the Medic, who was, as his name implied, an on set medic (if you could call him that) who they only really kept around because he really liked giving people pills, so this was maybe the first time anyone called him for a legitimate injury. He was nonetheless happy to pawn them off onto you. While you debated whether or not you should take them, the throbbing pain in the middle of your face failed to cease, so you gave in, throwing them back and hoping the high would wear off before the guys got back and you made a fool of yourself the same way they did with you.

For the first time that trip, nobody wanted to go out that night, not after the day they just had. Drenched in sweat from the hot Louisiana sun with sore muscles from a day of stunts, all anybody wanted to do was maybe have a beer and crash for the night. Nobody was more exhausted than Bam, who arguably had the worst day out of any of them. From getting locked in a trailer with snakes and racking his nuts to having to eat and by extension throw up a piece of cowshit- not even Johnny asking to take a gander at his sprained dick could bring any humor to the situation. So as soon as they got into the room they all fell onto beds or chairs or whatever they could find, content to call it a night before six. That is, until you came knocking on the door.

“Heyyy!!” Stumbling into the room, you were all giggles as you bumped into Johnny who had opened the door. He looked down at your purple, swollen face confusedly as you slurred your words, “Didn’t you guys wanna go out…? C’mon, let’s go. I wanna party!” Turning back to the other guys, they all reflected the same bewildered expression as his- never once had you ever expressed interest at partying, or at least their idea of partying. However, though he had arguably had the roughest day out of all of them, Bam’s mood shifted at your sudden change of opinion, getting up from his place on the bed with a grin and putting a paintball-scarred hand on Johnny’s shoulder, “Alright, you heard ‘em! Let’s party.”

The streets were nearly empty as you and the guys walked them. Hell, you didn’t even know you were on Bourbon street until you saw the street sign on the corner as you left the hotel, “Wait, this is that Marti gras place, right?” Johnny nodded as he walked close to you, making sure you didn’t run off or hurt yourself doing something stupid. He clearly wasn't doing a very good job at it, made apparent when you tugged your shirt up to your neck, squealing, “Oh! I’m gonna get some beads!” Imitating women who flashed for plastic at those parades, it seemingly didn’t occur to you that not only were you about three months late to the whole Marti gras thing, but you were doing it to nobody in particular. Johnny noticed, his eyes going a little wide as he grabbed the sides of your shirt, quickly but gently pulling it back down, “Woah, woah- Y/N,” There was this almost protective tone in his voice as he talked to you the way you usually talked to him when he had a few too many that night, “If you wait right here, I can get you some beads, okay? Just- just stay in this one spot.”

He returned shortly after with a handful of multi-colored strands of plastic beads, brilliant iridescent purple and greens under the gas lamps that lined the sidewalks. Your eyes sparkled, “Woah…you got these for me…?” Johnny nodded. Maybe instead of getting them from a float like you assumed he had ran into a gift shop and hastily bought the first bulk bag of necklaces he could find, but he wasn’t technically lying. As you happily pulled them over you head, Bam elbowed you in the side, raising his eyebrows as he leaned in with a grin, “I could get you some beads if you flash those titties again.” Before you could comply, which you would’ve been more than happy to do, Johnny put an arm between the two of you, pushing you apart. What a killjoy! Still, he gave you a good explanation, “You don’t need any’a Bam’s junky beads cause I got you the good ones- the fancy kind.” Looking down at the beads in your hand again, you weren't sure what made them so fancy as they just looked like any old beads to you, but you trusted him. “Besides” Johnny brushed Bam’s hand off of your shoulder, “Why don’t I take you out on that dinner I was talkin’ about?”

You spent half of the meal gushing to the guys about your shiny new beads you got, somewhat less high but far from sober. Chris and Steve found your predicament absolutely hilarious, sitting on either side of you with giddy smiles at their uptight manager who was finally getting in on the fun. The lot of you ate your dinner in that sleepy little twenty four hour cafe a block from your hotel (about as far as you had gotten) and afterwards Johnny took you back to the hotel and up to your room with an arm around your shoulders, preventing any further mishaps. Dragging your feet, you collapsed onto your bed in your jeans. He gently removed your shoes and tucked you in before quietly leaving to go back to his own room next door. If there was going to be another time you ever ended up high, he would be the man you would want to babysit you. Tomorrow would be the last day of shooting in New Orleans, and you would be mortified at the stories of your behavior, but for that moment that night everything was just perfect.

[factual-fantasy]

25 ASKS!! THANKS U GUYS!! 🤶

@elegysonnet (In response to this post)

Ok so to explain Lolbit, you'll need a little background--

In my sister location AU I was thinking that William uses the circus as a front to go from town to town killing kids. He takes the remnant of his victims and puts them in the animatronics. This remnant is making the animatronics more "human". Its giving them the ability to feel things like love, hate.. and fear..

Another detail is my animatronics do not move their face plates to appear more life like. The face plates are there for easy access to the endo skeleton and for easy make up changes and replacement. While the animatronic is in use, the faceplates are clamped shut. They are never meant to open them and are not supposed to see each other with them open.

This then leads us to Funtime Foxy. He went into a parts and service tent he wasn't supposed to go in.. and on a table he saw a set of purple and orange Foxy faceplates. But having been programmed to never remove the faceplates and having the remnant in his system.. he just.. couldn't understand what he saw.

It was his face.. but.. also not him? It had no eyes, no teeth, its jaw sat at a bizarre angle. It was.. horrifying. The remnant is really messing with Foxy's head after seeing that. He cant understand what he saw and is basically having "nightmares" about it. Seeing himself in the mirror as this "other Foxy" with missing eyes and a black mouth. With black sludge dripping from his eye sockets..

So "Lolbit" doesn't.. really exist..? Its more like a nightmare concept that Foxy created in his own head. And he just doesn't have the means to understand what he saw.

Yendo has a very similar story..

Oh yeah.. I'm aware.😔 Remember folks, all reposted artwork is stolen. All.

(Also thank you! I'm glad you liked my FNAF stuff! :}} )

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD As for the fusion idea, I love those names!! :DD And I was leaning towards it being a separate AU of sorts. Since the ability to fuse would change A LOT about my characters stories and personalities--

XD And don't worry, that was a good read! Though I believe I had already planned an encounter with King Boo.? Well, "encounter", they never saw him face to face--

I couldn't find the original post talking about this, but if I remember correctly..

Mario and Luigi had found the mansion on one of their adventures and went inside. In which the boos locked the doors and turned out all the lanterns. The boos then proceeded to play tricks on the bros and got them separated. I think King Boo was watching the other boos from the shadows..?

Now Mario had gone into one of the rooms and there was a fire flower in a plant pot. Mario grabbed the flower and created a fireball in his hands so he could see. Immediately after that the entire mansion went completely silent. The Boos were all stunned. Someone absorbing a power up was so foreign, so terrifying... so.. so impossible, that all the boos were immediately terrified of them.

All the lights leading to the front doors lit up and the doors swung open. Mario and Luigi followed the lights, reunited and left the mansion. As soon as they stepped out, the doors and windows all slammed shut. Basically saying "DO NOT COME BACK IN HERE-"

Then the bros went home! Shaken, but safe and sound <XDD

(Referencing this post)

XDD Not exactly, my sona comes in all shapes and sizes. I just drew myself looking more human/"put together" in that post because I was resting on the couch XDD

Plus its only 1 drawing! I tend to put a lot more details into the characters I draw if I'm only drawing them once. :0

@2006-stupid-thatsme (Referencing this post)

Oooo I've never heard of empanadas until now! They look delicious!! :DD

(Referencing this post)

"What's a stomach ache??"

XD Ah don't worry about her! Lucky for Cici, her and the gang cannot get stomach aches. Mostly becuase I've dealt with them enough to know that they are the worst things ever! And I would never wish stomach aches upon even my worst enemy. :')💔

Sooo since I have full control over this universe, I have decided that there will never be any consequences to eating food! They can eat as much as they want, whenever they want, however they want, and they will never suffer any ill effects! No stomach aches, no gas, no uncomfortable fullness, no weight gain- no mess?? Once Cici is done chowing down on that cake the frosting will suddenly vanish from her face and hands. Cuz who likes to clean up after eating??

So don't worry bout her, anyone in the factual fam could eat that entire cake and come out absolutely thriving XDD

..Lucky aren't they.. :/

Yes! Though its only really a moustache-

I pictured that they're basically just straight up tentacles and there's a set number of how many can grown out of his head at once.

He can grab things with them too! And I imagined that they can fully grow back if cut off and the longest they can grow is down to Octo's knees. Once they get that long they kind'a stop growing.

Though Octo has never grown them out that long before <XDD

WAAAATHANK YOIUUUU SO MUSHCHCH!!!!! 💖💖😭💖😭😭💖

@tmelvinborg31

I DIDN'T KNOW THEY COULD BE SO LARG??

@minnesotamedic186 (Post in question)

These past few weeks/months(??) have not been my best

"The Jar".. how can a name be so haunting and creepy yet so funny at the same time? XD

Thank you, <:} I'm sure that I'll peek into the fandom every now and again.. becuase I cant escape my love for Octonauts. But I'm rethinking how I'll approach the fandom next time around-

<XD What can I say, I'm a wizard ✨✨ Though some parts have been spoiled but that's my own fault tbh.

As for why I haven't watched it, its just really hard for me to switch gears for some reason. All I gotta do is sit down, and watch the movie. But my brain just cannot seem to do that, it makes it seem like its this huge task/activity that will be a drag to go through. Its really hard to explain.. I guess I'd much rather just sit in my room an draw and not interrupt the usual flow/pattern of my day-

(In response to this post)

:DD Thank you so much!! And yeah Luigi could probably use a hug or at least a friendly pat on the shoulder <XDD 💔

@whereismycupofcoffee

XDD Not just when I wanna draw. This is my mood like 75% of the time-

For ME??? THANK YOU!! :))))) 💖💖💖

@blade-liger-4ever

Its all ups and downs, not quite sure where I am rn but it don't feel great so it must be a down :(

I don't know much about those characters or the relationship they have.. but Blue and Seafoam have been compared to them in the past. They must be really similar! :0

OH! <:DD Whelp I guess they're not saying there long!!- <XD

@whateverdraws1008

Tucked away deeeep within my brain goo. Its a rarity that I have the motivation to return to that fandom :( the characters are just so hard to draw! 💔💔

@beryl-shade

Ooooo this is so clever!! :D I can totally see this being apart of the actual games too!

YOO I LOVE SURFACE PRESSURE!! :DD I'll have to look into the other songs too! :00

@beryl-shade

I cant remember much of Chef Saltbaker.. he's from the Cuphead DLC right? I imagine he's giant to them, maybe they'd be afraid? DD:

(Related to this post) (I cant find the ask post- but this is in response to someone saying "what about Cici?" And I commented that the mic simply wasn't offered to her-)

Bibi picks up an absolutely miniscule Cici and she squeaks out a tiny;

" ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃᶜᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᶦˢʰ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ >:³ "

[shojizbae]

Memory Lane

Adult! Tom Kaulitz x Reader

“Ich bin nervös, bist du?”

“Ja eine kleine.”

The studio has a chilled doctor's office waiting room feel, with an all-white background, boring gray chairs, and gigantic LED panels. It’s been ten years since Tom and I broke up, so Vogue wanted us to tell our story. We’re both wearing smart blazers, although Tom has paired his with some slacks and leather sneakers. Mine is paired with a slim dress and some utility boots.

The crew is finishing up micing us and doing a final mic check before the camera starts rolling. The director calls us on, and we take our seats. At least the chair is comfortable.

“So it’s been ten years since the two of you separated.”

“Ja, well, we tell our friends it’s been 10 years since we ended our sexual relationship.”

“Ja, well, we are still excellent friends.” I agree and pat Tom's knee

“So, how did the two of you meet?” the producer asks. He looks very stereotypical, with his crossed pensive arms and all-too-self-important expression. He even has his finger on his lip like Jeff Goldbloom.

“Well, Tom met me when I started touring with them as their opener, but I met Tom through the band. I got a CD of Schrei the day it came out. So working with them was like a total dream come true.” I explain, gesticulating the whole time.

“And Tom, what was your first impression of (Y/n)?”

“Well, they put us in a meeting to discuss her work with us and showed a video of her shredding her bass, and I thought, wow, this girl is so hot and so good at playing. And the. We met her in person, and Bill will say I followed her like a puppy, but she made the first move. And yeah, I always thought she was so cool and talented, and she was just so pretty.” He finished his rambles by looking at me

“Aw, thank you, Tommy.” You cross your legs and await the following instructions. The producer hands you an ornate-looking scrapbook. They instruct you to open to the first page, and it shows the first tabloids to sniff out your and Tom’s relationships. Pictures of the two of you strutting around Berlin, hand in hand.

“Oh, sehr kleine!” I looked at the pictures as the memories came flooding back—the first few weeks when we were so excited to be in love with each other. I had a pout and enormous sunglasses clouding my face, and Tom was smiling proudly and holding up our interlaced hands.

“Woah, we were so. Gott, you were so skinny.” Tom mentions

“Do you want to explain these photos?” The director asks.

“This is-this is 2006.” I look right into the lens. “We, I think, had been dating for a month at this point.” I point to a picture of me readjusting Tom’s dreads on a park bench.

“Poor Georg and Gustav, they were so sick of my shit at this point.” Tom points to an infamous photo of the two of you making out of a sofa between the boys, and their faces are completely annoyed. I laugh at the picture. Everything about it reminds me of being young. I’ve got Tom’s hat on, and his hands are sliding under the hem of my shorts.

“Yeah, we’re little animals.” I agree. My eyes scan the bag one more time. The dramatically patterned zip-up hoodies and the DC sneakers were just beautiful.

“Alright, you can turn the page.”

The next page shows more pictures of us walking around town, on vacation, and on stage together. I whoop when I see the photo of Tom and I playing guitar back to back.

“Woah, I remember this night.”

“Ja, the crowd was just electric.” Tom reminisces

“It was electric, and everything just worked out. We were supposed to be late to the venue for traffic, but it cleared out. Mic checks were shady, and one of Gustav’s drum heads almost ripped, but this was an incredible night.”

“I remember your singing being extra special, too. " My heart flutters, and I brush my hand over the photo. When I look at my hand, I see the tattoos and my promise ring.

“What a good night.”

“Alright, now that we’ve got some background, we’re going into your more notable fashion moments.” On the next page were some of our most ridiculous statements. The time Tom wore 3 hats on a red carpet. At the time, I performed in a bra and underwear. The two of us wearing Dirndl and Leider Hoisen. And most famously, the handcuff belt accident.

“Oh, this is when we performing at the worldwide German convention.” I point to pictures of me and the band dancing around in traditional German clothes. We couldn’t have been older than 18 at that time.

“That night was so fun. We all bought these matching steins, and we nearly went through a keg of beer.” Tom recalls. I tried to recall that, but after I got off stage and we started drinking, my memory fogged up.

“Who is the better drinker?”

“Well, technically, Bill is the best of the band because he could put back as much hard liquor as he wants and then roll out of bed and sing, but I think that night,”

“Nein, it’s totally Georg; he had the body mass to soak up all the liquor.” Before we knew it, Tom and I argued in German about the best drinker.

“Well, if we want to talk about this picture,” Tom recenters the focus, pouting at the page, “(Y/n) can drink any of us under the table when it comes to beer.”

“I think you guys are intentionally ignoring one pair of photos.”

“And which ones would those be?” I play coy with the producer

“Why don’t you turn the page.” The next page is just many zoomed-in shots of the two of us wearing my infamous handcuff belt. I wore it on a four-month tour of the United States in almost every show. But during one show in Fort Lauderdale, it had been damaged very distinctly. I was in a post-show interview showing it off, so everyone knew the handcuff belt had two big scratches on the left side. Which was all fine and dandy until I got home to Germany, and I hadn’t seen my famously horny boyfriend in four months. And, of course, we took to the first private area we could find. I can't remember if that was a car or a hotel, but in the evening, a photograph of Tom in a handcuffed belt with two scratches on the left side was circulating every drama outlet and tabloid.

“Oh, nein, why would you circle it?” Tom holds the book up to show close-up shots of me performing and him giddily strutting down the sidewalk.

“I don’t know why this photo got so much attention at that moment because we shared clothes all the time,” Tom said casually as if that would save this. “I think once I was on stage, a pair of your panties fell out of my pocket. Everyone knew what we were doing.”

“Did you ever steal Tom’s clothes?” Someone on the crew asks. It’s difficult to see beyond the panel of lights

“Did she? Sheiße, she wore my underwear more often than she would wear her own.” I hid my fave in my hands, knowing that when Tom’s voice pitched up like that, we were in for a rant, “Anytime we shared a hotel on vacation or for work, I would leave clean clothes on my bed for after my shower. I would go in the shower rubba-dub-dub. And when I got back, my boxers were gone. Where did they go? I would scratch my head for twenty minutes until (y/n) got out of the shower, and she toweled off her hair in a big t-shirt. That big t-shirt was usually mine, by the way, and when she would lift her arms, I could see that she had taken my underwear!”

I could feel the blood racing around my face under my skin. Tom started rubbing circles on my back.

“You seem to be overhearing. Why don’t we turn the page?” I’m still reeling from embarrassment, so Tom flips the page.

“Oh mein maus.” Tom coos under his breath.

“Was?”

“You be got to look at these.” He placed a hand on my wrist. I scan around the page, and it looks like a true scrapbook photo with twisted angles and stickers everywhere. I run my finger over a photo of me on a skateboard and Tom facing me, holding both my hands. I feel a lump forming in my throat. Our smiles were completely taking over our faces. Photos of us on dates to the mall and the roller ring. Tuning each other's guitars and cuddling on tour buses. In one picture, I was completely knocked out on a couch, and Tom was under me with his face scrunched up like he had eaten a lemon.

“Why did you look like that?” I point at his I-just-stubbed-my-toe-face

“You were sleeping like an angel, baby.” I was lying on his chest, and his hand tangled in my hair.

“When even was this?” I mutter somewhat to myself

“I think it was the music festival in Italy.” He replies in German.

“Oh Ja, I can see the hem of my stupid leather pants. Hottest day of a southern Italian summer, and I decided to wear leather leggings. They were so sweaty. My whole body was like wet.”

“That’s probably why you fell asleep. I think I remember peeling those pants off you and giving you some boxers to sleep in.” I remember waking up in red checkered boxers with flaming skulls on them. “They were dripping sweat,” Tom confirms

“That’s gross.” I groan. “Wait, who took this picture?”

“Es war Bill.”

“Aw wie geht it ihm?”

“Gut.”

“Gut.”

We chatter about pictures taken as we walk from the cinema, shots of us performing together, pictures taken sneakily on vacation, and some god-awful photos of us on the red carpet. We talk about our styles and how they’ve evolved. Obviously, Tom’s the most, as he no longer wears pants that could house a small village.

“But I feel like your style has changed a lot. And when we got older, you dressed a lot according to the trends.”

“Yeah, there was a time in 2012-2013 when I was as obsessed with wearing colorful, like, pastel skinny jeans with pumps. And then just a tank top and a blazer.”

“Oh, Ja,” Tom flips over to a picture of the two of us. You looked nice—like a little business lady.”

“I was a little business lady. I just don’t like how they looked on my thighs.” I heard Tom scoff next to me. “I’m glad the fashion pendulum has swung back to baggier, more relaxed-fit jeans.”

“I do enjoy being more easy breezy.” Tom wiggles his hips around on his chair, “I didn’t like wearing skinny jeans. I felt like everyone was staring at my dick.”

“I was,” I smirk, and we reminisce about our early 20s, and I feel pity for the girl stomping around Manhattan in her pumps with the boys she’s in line with because she has no clue she only has two years left with him.

“That’s when you had the cornrows and wore a lot of flannel and scarves.” We reminisce about his switch to slim-fit jeans with little leather patches from his embroidered diesels.

“Alright, and we’ll finish things with a bang.” The producer states and tells us to turn the page. On the next page is my biggest embarrassment. For a few months, Tom and I had a running gag. An overly intrusive interviewer was nearly interrogating Tokio Hotel, and I came into the studio just at the wrong time. The journalist had asked the boys about their hobbies while some were walking around. Naturally, as we had been dating for a year, I stood near Tom as he paced. When they asked him what his hobby was, he replied, “This,” and grabbed me by the hips and dry-humped me a few times. At first, I spun around and slapped him on the chest, non-seriously.

I loved how horny he was for me.

Later, I was being interviewed, and a different journalist asked me what my favorite pastime was. As the boys were lingering behind the camera crew, Tom decided to wander in and bend over in front of me, so I grabbed him by the hips and dry-humped him. He topped off with dramatic moans and crossed eyes, but seeing the journalist completely flushed made us laugh.

“I would say that’s my favorite pastime. Or maybe writing music.” For the next few months, we would take any opportunity to pretend to fuck each other on red carpets, on the street, or on stage. Going so far as to write a single called “sexsüchtig” or sex addict so I could have Tom sit on a wooden chair and give him lap dances on stage. There was a smattering of images of us just being promiscuous everywhere. One picture showed me in chunky platform heels and a lacy mini skirt, sitting on a wooden chair with my head tipped back, singing. I had a foot on Tom’s shoulder while he fake ate me out, kneeling in front of me. I even wrote the song with a verse of just runs that sound like moans.

That was a crowd favorite when I would perform it.

“Alright, we’re going to have you guys watch some edits that people make of you on TikTok.”

“Oh, nein.” I groan

“Are you on TikTok?” The producer asks

“I’m not. But I know everyone else is. And some of that stiff bleeds over to Instagram. And so I see it there. But I try to stay off social media.”

“And you, Tom?”

“I’ve seen some stuff, but Ja, I’m most just like Instagram.”

“Ok so for the most part, you haven’t seen these?”

"Nein because Gustav's daughter sends them to me." At one, they hand Tom a giant iPad and open the photos app with a few edits loaded up. They began a screen recording and showed what they had learned to be a standard edit of Tom. Some clip of him saying something, and then they would splice photos of him over some sexual song called "Do you wanna fuck”. I smiled down at it in memory.

“Woah, you’re such a baby. You can’t be more like than 15 in some of those.”

“Ja, I was young.”

“It’s kind of weird that people wanted to fuck you if you’re so young.”

“In all fairness, it’s not like I wasn’t having sex at the time these pictures were taken.” He smiled. “All right next!”

The next edit was of me to a sir-mix-a-lot song, and out came blasting, “but I got to be straight when I say I wanna huh-ooh til the break of dawn.” It played a clip of me rolling my eyes. God, I used to wear so much eyeliner. There are more pictures of me at suggestive angles.

“God, you’re so hot.” Tom laughs. “look at you and your hot pink guitar”

“This is super weird to watch. It’s impressive, but I’m just slightly jarred.” We watch more individuals before they switch over to some nonserious clips of us essentially chirping at each other. They caption the videos with 'goofiest couple' or 'cutie patooties.' I enjoyed the videos of us being children having pillow fights in hotels and making weird groans.

"Alright, and finally, we're going to finish the video with one final edit of the you two." Tom clicks the final play button it's a slowed-down edit of the two of us while in the era of me giving lap dances. The pure eroticism of us grinding against each other. The look of it. His eye as he studies me singing. And how I stared into his soul while I sang about how good he fucks me.

It wouldn't hurt to climb into his lap again. I love his wife, Heidi, but I miss him. After 3 years with my boyfriend, Gregory, and no engagement ring in sight, just this shitty promise ring. That was the whole reason we split. After dating Tom for a decade, I was ready to get married. Sure, we were only 24, but I only wanted him. And that wasn't what he wanted, so we split.

Now, ten years have passed, and I'm still not married.

He's right next to me, and I miss him.

[hostilemuppet]

Saw the JD & Floyd post and was about to say “Maybe he should” but then it just made me sad. Like damn he cares about his family to the detriment of himself, what does that say about his relationship with Creek. I think I remember you writing something about Floyd realizing he’s genuinely fallen in love with him.

you want me to show how much thought ive put into tdau floyd? the funny cokehead with commitment issues? the guy who posts thirst traps out of spite? okay (keep in mind that most of this is just what *I* think and hasnt been cleared with alex, but when i write for floyd its genuinely what i consider in the back of my mind)

i think he was 13 y/o when he went out on his own (1999), began seeing the rest of the troll tree for himself, until he finally escaped on his own at around 15 (2001), a year before the entire tribe was evacuated (2002). he hitch hiked a bit and got to see a bunch of tribes but he only really got to see techno reef and volcano rock city, staying in vrc a lot longer (LONG before barb was in power and turned rocks view on pop from "they fucked up a really long time ago but were safe from them now" to "we need to colonise them back") and discovering a lot about himself in the process

he turned 18 (2004) and, as most ex-child stars do, immediately went IN on hard drugs and sex with strangers, as if thats the test for proving your adulthood. and he had a good time! he spent most of his life drugged to the gills and unable to look himself in the mirror the rare moments he was sober, but, yknow. details. then he got bored. and he went travelling again

at the age of 20 (2006) he left troll kingdom entirely. obviously he stayed CLEAR of bergen town (and silently prayed to whatever god pop trolls typically believe in that his family were safe and undigested). but he saw all sorts of places! places we havent seen yet, with species we havent seen yet, of extremely varying sizes! hell, he mightve met a species or two that are smaller than trolls! imagine that. but spending years travelling, it gets lonely. he never got to connect with anyone. hell, he never even had a real boyfriend! the most he had was that situationship he had that lasted 5 weeks before he got ghosted when that techno troll got back with his girlfriend. (its okay though, he channels his pain into his art, and that was one became his most popular song on bandcamp by a significant margin!)

at 27 years old (2013) he arrived in mount rageous. sure, they were huge, and he was terrified of being eaten, obviously. but they didnt want to eat him! they thought he was cute. and, he wont lie, he liked the attention. he became a novelty, that tiny little creature with his even tinier guitar, who apparently built up such a tolerance he can handle mount rageon drugs. imagine doing blow with stewert little. they loved him, as entertainment. he still didnt have anyone who loved him as a person, but at that point he was willing to settle.

when hes 36 (2023) he gets kidnapped by velvet & veneer, and of course no one thought to look for him. you wouldnt notice if the mouse in your house suddenly went missing. at most youd think someone you live with finally took care of it, and youd move on with your life.

the events of the movie happen, hes reunited with his siblings, he actually feels valued as a person again, AND to top it all off, those two months in the bottle did WONDERS for detoxing. next time he tries pop troll coke he actually feels a buzz! he never thought hed see the day!

brozone reunite, we see the early days of their career carry out in the au. floyd feels like hes on top of the world. hes got his family back, hes back in pop village (albeit, its a different pop village than he knew. hell, they used to all it troll village back then!) hes releasing actual music again, and not just busking for tips (its okay he didnt need much, he rented out a mouse hole for cheap). but he wants an actual connection. he wants a relationship. but hes never actually had that! hes never even felt respected by a potential partner! so he goes back to random hookups. and, yknow, its fun, he guesses. but he wants more

the first troll who seems to actually take interest in him as anything more than a hot piece of ass or "that guy from brozone" rocks his world. hes ashamed to admit that after knowing the guy for 3 hours he already thought about spending the rest of his life with him. he just wasnt used to being spoken to like a person by anyone other than immediate family members! its okay though, he couldnt scare him off, because he was being paid to be there, and after recording himself getting in floyds pants (the only way he knows how to show affection at this point) it was all over the internet

so, you know, obviously floyd wasnt doing great. hes gotten good at hiding his feelings (not like anyone really cares about them anyway) but he was clearly struggling. he did what he does best, and turned it into a joke, so maybe itd hurt a little less. he probably made it worse, but at least he was numb now. he goes back to hookups, deciding hell never have an actual boyfriend, hell never get married, and hes okay with that. well, hes clearly not, but its not like anyone ever asked, so he has to deal.

then he meets creek. and at this point hes not stupid. hes not that naive little kid anymore, and when he wakes up the next morning and realises his newest one night stand was that guy, the asshole, the one who everyone hates, he knows hes the butt of the joke, again. theres probably a camera, again. he leaves before creek wakes up.

but then he meets him again, a few days later. and creek says how much of a shame it is he never got his digits. and floyd doesnt know what to make of this. but he knows he shouldnt trust him. he heard everything riff said about him, everything BRANCH said about him. he knows every one of creeks crimes. but maybe he just wants to have some fun, yknow? everyones always fucking with him, maybe he wants to play around sometime. show the world hes not some little helpless doll.

what follows is about a year and a half of gay chicken on expert mode. creek pretends to love floyd. floyd pretends he doesnt know creeks pretending. floyd feels in control, almost. he gets comfortable. he refuses to believe its love, how could it be love? theyre awful to each other. but its, technically, his first real relationship. he tries not to think about it.

maybe encouraging creek to propose was a little more than seeing how far he can push him before he snaps. maybe he wanted to prove that hes worth it, even if the other guy wasnt. maybe he genuinely cried when he got angelinas egg, even if hed rather die than let creek see him express genuine emotions. he knows hes the sensitive one, but hes more than brozone. hes a person. a person that people dont ever seem to want to know.

then he realises. hes not the only one whos gotten comfortable. creek looks... not happy, exactly. but content. and floyd thinks thats terrifying. its too far, thats not how any of this was supposed to work. it was REVENGE. floyd was fucking with him, because creek was fucking with him first! now hes married, hes MARRIED, with KIDS, TWINS! THAT HE NAMED! and he loves them! and he loves creek! and creek loves him! hes gonna be sick. he cant do this. he cant be here. he lives in a mansion but its suffocating him. he leaves. he divorces creek.

hes miserable again. jd doesnt notice bc hes "the sensitive one", and his other brothers dont know how to bring it up without making it worse. branch is the only one who asks how hes holding up, but he just says hes fine, hell bounce back. he doesnt bounce back

when he meets creek again, he wants to cry. he wants to get on his hands and knees and beg him to take him back, but he has a LITTLE bit of self respect left. when he finds out creek missed him too its more than he can take. when they get drunk, and floyd forces jd to re-marry them, floyd actually feels like a person. a broken person, who healed in a creek-shaped mould, but a person nonetheless. and maybe thats all he can ask for

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls- 3x9-Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving- Part 1

It's 6:30am on the 4th of July. It feels like as a good a time as any to write about a Thanksgiving episode. I am quite fond of this episode, it's one of my favorites. It includes a historical first: which is Lorelai being kinda nice to Jess? Hooray! It's a Thanksgiving miracle! But off to the house fire with him again for Black Friday. I cannot, however, even in the spirit of Julyskiving, be nice to Lorelai when describing this episode. This is, after all, the "Just because you and Rory broke up doesn't mean we did" episode. Would you mind taking a Niceness Raincheck, Lorelai? I doubt it will be useful in s3. For the time being, just accept all of the comedic verbal beatdowns that you have coming from me. On with Julyskiving.

Jess can sympathize with Pete. But he's beating his meat instead of eggs. This one is a bit borderline, but it qualifies for a check on the "thinly veiled sexual reference" square on my Bingo Card. I cannot take my eyes off this mug Michel is holding and "sipping" from because it's the emptiest Empty Mug I've seen so far on this show. I've seen some empty cups on this show but dang, this one is empty.

Me looking for love in all the wrong places.

Heh heh. We learn that Lorelai has faked illness and poor cellphone reception (that's not terribly hard in 2002, the year of our lord) to try and weasel out of the last two FND's. Why, you ask? Because she's still hopping mad at Emily and Richard for...taking Rory on a trip to look at a school that wasn't Harvard. Emily Gilmore, the Queen that she is, lays down that in no uncertain terms that Lorelai will have to spend Thanksgiving doing FND. Emily won’t allow Lorelai get in a word in edgewise, complain, or protest 🫡 so Lorelai lays down like a dog and submits. I love to see it.

*checks off "Millennial Pop Culture Reference" on the Bingo Card* Have I mentioned how much I love the 35 year old extras playing high school students?

Not anymore he ain't. Just ride it out for another 3 short years. girl. Reese will be history by 2006. He never married again, either. "Is it me, or did everything the teacher say sound dirty? I mean come on, reticulum? The golgi body? Does that sound majorly pornographic or what?" Heh heh. Yeah. I'm scandalized by the use of the word "pornographic" on this wholesome show. We learn that Louise's father is in prison for an unspecified crime. I love Madelyn & Louise lore, don't you? Paris wanted to volunteer at a soup kitchen to pad her Ivy League resume but no one would take her. She will be ever so lonely on Thanksgiving and needs a place to spend the holiday. *bats eyelashes at Rory* Madelyn plans to spend Thanksgiving filling out applications for safety schools. Paris agres that is incredbly important to weigh as many options as possible when applying to colleges. Rory, meanwhile , remembers that just a short while ago, her Mommy had a nuclear meltdown in public and shut her grandparents out for weeks over the mere idea of her even looking at or thinking about a backup school. Much like the time she realized she forgot to enroll in extra cirricular activities, this is someone who is quietly contemplating just how badly she's boned. Academically speaking.

Paris receives a return call on her ancient cellphone from a soup kitchen, with whom she tries to wrangle a volunteer opportunity. This is how Rory looks at Paris angrily ranting at a charitable organization:

Paris may not be able to pad her college application by helping the needy this year, but she will always be a volunteer in the soup kitchen of Rory's heart.

OMG. Could it be? Is that...the window concession stand from s1?

IT IS! IT IS! I love that little guy! I thought the fragile small town economy had swallowed up another beloved business! You ladies are just gonna walk past and not pick me up a fiesta burger and onion rings, huh? Besides snubbing a small business that has to compete with Luke's and could really use the help, ahem, Rory and Lorelai's Thanksgiving itinerary includes dinner at the elder gilmores, Sookie's, Lane's, and Luke's. They then decide to cut Luke from their schedule, because ol Grumpy Gus doesn't care about holidays and he won't miss them.

And so what if he did? Peace and harmony will be achieved when the people of The Hollow are free and able to be their true and authentic sexual selves.

None of which they'll pay for.

"Such a food rut we're in!" Concession Stand Guy would like a word.

Ya'll are just filthy. You're making jokes about stuffing each other a day before this wholesome holiday. Continue. Please. Lorelai informs Luke that they can't make it for Thanksgiving tomorrow. He seems quietly shattered. *Mr Lonely plays*

Perhaps you can un-disappoint him by paying for your food. So moved were the Gilmore GIrls by Luke's rare, almost visible display of emotion, that they decide they can work him into their schedule after all.

Batten down the hatches, guy. The Gilmores are coming. To your restaurant. Just like they do every day. Multiple times a day. Sometimes after you've already closed. Always eating, never paying.

Rory emptied two beach pails of Ben and Jerry's ice cream in one sitting after Dean dumped her. She ain't wrong. Stay tuned for the next chapter where I will explore the re-appearance of the vomit green puffy coat, Rory's continued pre occupation with Dean, Lorelai's continued pre occupation with Dean (the re emergence of the DALA), comedic thoughts about Black Friday, and much more.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Please tell me more about your human welcome home au 👀

!! gladly!!

i don't remember what i said in the first - and like... only lmao - post about it so if i restate some things! fuckign oopsie! (a lot of this is just Barnaby &/or Wally asbdjasj im sorry) also this got! so fucking long!

~ (im gonna talk about their middle/highschool years a lot so keep in mind the time frame is late 90s / early 2000s. they graduate high in either 2006/2007. so. yk. obvious warning for homophobia, transphobia, etc)

fun lil thing no.1)

so Barnaby & Wally briefly meet for the first time in the summer before 7th grade. the town Barnaby grows up & goes to school in isn't tiny, but it's not huge either. - i don't have a very good frame of reference for how many students are typically in a school, bc in both my middle/high there was at least nearly 2k of us. - so we'll just say it's smaller than that - a respectable, normal size, however many students that is. but Barnaby's school rarely, if ever, got any new kids.

so Wally randomly appeared on the edge of the Beagle farm one day, staring directly at Barnaby from across the fields. before Barnaby could go say hi, Wally vanished - but! on the first day of 7th grade, they wound up sharing a class. ofc within the day Wally was known as not only the new kid, but a weird kid at that. for the first week he sat next to a kid who had zeroed in on that and was an ass about it. Barnaby - already having an established rep as class clown & also widely well-liked by his peers - would try to stand up for Wally (from across the room) whenever that kid was being a dick to Walls in front of the class

by the end of that first week, seating arrangements were shifted, and Barnaby was seated next to Wally for the first semester instead. ofc the moment Barnaby sat down, he tried to strike up conversation and cracked a killer joke. and Wally, as we all know, doesn't laugh. he doesn't even blink! it rattles Barnaby to his core - not everyone laughs at his jokes, but there's always some kind of reaction!

class begins before Barnaby can be like "hey that. that was a joke. you're supposed to laugh". the whole hour all he can think about is the strange new kid next to him Who Didn't React To Barnaby's Joke. when the bell rings, Barnaby lingers as Wally (very slowly) packs up to go to his next class and walks him there. on the way he explains the joke, and Wally does the whole "oh. ha ha." thing. this all makes Barnaby very late to his next class (he's usually very punctual and never late - he doesn't want to disappoint his mama!) but for once he does not care.

Barnaby has been struck with this soul-deep need to get a genuine reaction out of Wally. he needs to make that guy actually laugh. it's all he can think about. he seeks Wally out for lunch, tries to find him after school (can't), looks for him in the halls. and to be clear! this is all very platonic! well, ok, these two kinda muddle the line BUT they have no romantic interest in each other. Barnaby just... really wants to be the new kid's friend. he wants to make him laugh. it's a friendship crush! platonic yearning! an inescapable desire to please & be accepted! he wants Wally's approval so so badly!

basically, Barnaby says "you're the weirdest person i've ever met (affectionate, intrigued, entranced)" and Wally replies "thank you (proud)"

fun lil thing no.2)

in my mind, Barnaby was a small kid. he was one of those kids who seemed like they were either gonna stay short, or just barely reach average height. he got his main growth spurt when he was like.... 16. it was very sudden. he lived the classic trope of "teen gets way taller over the summer and startles everyone on the first day of school". im talkin he goes from around 5'7 to 6'3. shoots right up like bamboo! and he's still not full height yet! mf is gonna cap out at 6'6!

on the flip side, Howdy was always just. so tall. he was that kid who towered over his peers from the start! ofc he got teased relentlessly for it (along with the transatlantic accent he started talking w/ at a young age and refuses to stop - among other eccentricities), but yk. he already got constant comments from his huge family about it, so he grew a thick skin pretty early on.

Poppy, on the other hand - the last of the three giants - had it worse than both of them! she wasn't outright taller than Howdy, and didn't have a sudden growth spurt like Barnaby, but steadily grew over the years until she was the tallest teen in town. this hit her hard bc not only did it draw unwanted attention to her & make her a target, but it made her dysphoria way worse (Poppy doesn't realize she's trans until highschool, and then doesnt medically transition until her early 20s)

but! once she started getting super tall, Howdy essentially glued himself to her a la "we tall guys gotta stick together!" a classic 'extrovert adopts introvert' thing. Poppy had no say in the matter.

fun lil thing no.3)

everyone's family sucks - except for Barnaby's, Howdy's, and Eddie's. well, mostly Eddie's. in my head they meant well but just... didn't really see the harm they were doing to him. he never spoke up, and they never saw him deeper than surface level.

but Frank's family? horrible. eugh. he was the school's "out gay kid" - not of his own choice! his peers picked up on it because it was very obvious. then the teachers heard, and let his parents know because of course they did, etc etc. Frank's home life was already shitty, and then getting outed (without any real proof or confirmation) made it a hundred times worse. he was a pretty depressed teen (emo Frank lets go) with mild anger issues & a habit for picking fights. but anyway on his eighteenth birthday he packed up his essentials into a backpack, escaped out the back, and never returned.

and Julie's siblings were alright, but their parents and grandparents were all very ~traditional~. it wasn't as rough as Frank's - it was more of a neglectful, passive-aggressive "you're all disappointments' household. ex: Jonesy was known as the local pothead & dealer, and his parents essentially pretend he's not part of the family despite him living in their basement. Bea had a bad (untrue) reputation, Franny was the goth weirdo who people blamed for their problems, etc. and then Julie was always different from "normal girls", and so her parents chalked her up as a mistake as well. but hey! at least the sibs were in it together! and the parents didn't care if Frank stayed over!

Poppy's family was great up until her parents caught her trying on a skirt Sally had made for her. it was a horrible, terrible downhill slide from there. they forced her to join the basketball team, made her keep her door open at all times, etc. for a while she couldn't even see her friends, though eventually they started sneaking in through her window & passing her notes in class. messaging in a 'secret' chatroom yk how it is. Poppy never directly stood up to her parents (very understandable & valid) but she rebelled in small ways. lying about having an after-school thing so that she could be with her friends, convincing her parents to let her go to a study group when in reality she'd be having a girls' night with Sally & Julie & Julie's sisters @ the Beagle farm.

Sally's family was similar to Julie's in that they were more lukewarm towards her than outright abusive. they thought she was too loud, too flamboyant, too expensive, too obvious, pretty much too everything. they wanted her to be normal - Sally wanted to stand on the roof and wax (loud) poetic about damsels. she wasn't outright bullied for being gay like Frank was, but it was certainly a common rumor that she was a lesbian. as a result, most of the girls at school wanted nothing to do with her, and the guys loved to provide commentary on the subject. her parents tried their best to ignore that truth and acted like she was totally straight. sure. still, Sally always refused to compromise on who she was, and treated it all like a mild annoyance. totally didn't hurt her at all. yep. (sarcasm)

there isn't anything known about Wally's family. not even Barnaby knows about them. the group tossed theories around (amongst themselves) over the years - was he an orphan? foster kid? was his family / home life so horrific that he doesn't want anyone to know? all they know is that he became an emancipated minor as young as legally possible and started living in Home, his (admittedly very spacious & high quality) RV. and they didn't even know about that until their junior year except for Frank

on the other side of the coin!

Ms. Beagle was the friend group's favorite adult growing up. the Beagle Farm was a common refuge & hangout spot for them, and Ms. Beagle let all of Barnaby's strange & delightful little friends know that there's always a guest room open for them, should they ever need it. and as a respected member of the community (and provider for the best chicken eggs in town), anyone who tried to speak up against the kids was Immediately shut the fuck down. Ms. Beagle took no shit. if people were talking ill about that "group of depraved teenage fuckups" and Ms. Beagle turned the corner, all conversation would cease until she was well out of earshot. she likes to say that she has 6 kids, all of whom she loves dearly and is very proud of <3

Howdy's family is too damn big to care. not in a neglectful way, just in a "oh, you're friends with... who was it again? Franz? invite him over to dinner someti- STOP PUNCHING YOUR BROTHER-" there's too much chaos, too many things to keep track of to care if Howdy's friends are gay, or trans, or absolutely fucking bizarre. they'll blend right in! Howdy could bring them over for dinner without telling his family and none of them would blink twice! Howdy mentioned that his friends have bad home lives Once and his parents immediately insisted that he bring them over for next week's thanksgiving so that they don't have to deal with that during what should be a holiday. thus began the All Six Of Us + Ms. Beagle + Franny/Bea/Jonesy Attend The Pillar Family Thanksgiving. its incredibly chaotic every time. there's so many fucking people. they're too busy fighting for survival (bread rolls) to bother with manners or awkwardness. every time they leave feeling like they fought a war. none of the friend group has missed a single year.

fun thing no.idontremember!

Wally & Barnaby have had three fights. each are catastrophic and threatened to tear the friend group apart. because those two are closer than anyone - they are each others person. they would both rather chug rat poison than willingly hurt each other. and while Barnaby - a pretty easygoing guy - can get riled up, Wally... really can't. he's never angry. even things that Should make him angry only make him confused or sad. he's too kind, too earnest, a bit of a pushover. he'll just take it with a smile.

so when Wally stands his ground, they all know shit is going tf down. code red, everyone brace. and if he stands his ground against Barnaby? pack a fucking go-bag and ditch town until the storm blows over.

the first time was when Barnaby found out that Wally lives in a damn RV. Wally got weirdly defensive about it, Barnaby was upset that Wally never even told him but somehow Frank knew (he had a bad night & couldn't go home, Julie was unavailable, and Wally found him and took him to the RV for the night) & that Wally is living alone in an RV at all, etc etc - it was a huge fight. & it just kept getting worse. when Barnaby tried to get Wally to move to the farm - that was the first time he's ever heard Wally snap at anyone, let alone him. and since the friend group is fully established at this point, and they're all hopelessly entangled in each others' lives, it affects all of them. sides have to be chosen - there is no neutral party on this. Wally ended up vanishing for a week without a word, and his RV vanished from where it had been parked thus far. the group was in shambles. when Wally turned back up, he actively avoided them all. it took Barnaby tracking down the rv and not leaving until Wally talked to him to have a conversation and fix things. but hey! the disaster actually helped them get even closer!

the second fight was when Barnaby had to go back to the Beagle Farm for their second year of community (Ms. Beagle had a minor accident and needed his help running the farm). Wally wanted to drop out too & go with him, and it turned into a big deal of Barnaby trying to get him to stay while Wally gets unusually pushy & upset about it. the fight wasn't nearly as bad as the RV one, and was more just sad/distressing, but it was still a fight. they parted on less than stellar terms, which they both felt horrible about. Wally has to go through the last year of community alone - he hasn't been alone in many years at this point, and since they met he's never been without Barnaby.

the third fight comes many years later, and this one is the worst. the friend group has all graduated university(those that attended), they're living in the same town, Barnaby & Wally (technically) share a house, Eddie is part of the group now. once again, its over everyone's favorite RV, Home. Home is very old at this point - Wally has had it for around 15 years, and he didn't get it new, and it's been through a lot. Wally is still half living in it, even though it's starting to fall apart. Barnaby brings up the notion that maybe it's time to send the old thing off to a dump, or find a way to put it in storage. they can't keep up the upkeep. it's time to say goodbye to it. Wally flips his fucking lid - or his version of it, anyway. because, uh. no. absolutely fucking not. it's already a very touchy subject, and emotions rise fast. Wally initially shuts down the conversation immediately. over the next week or so, few weeks maybe, tension between Barnaby & Wally simmers. the entire friend group is holding their breath. Barnaby wants the RV gone, as sad as he is about it. Wally won't allow it. of course they reach a breaking point - Barnaby pulls the "i own the property its parked on" card, Wally threatens to leave. of course that scares Barnaby, but that fear mixes with the anger and he fully yells at Wally for the first time. and then Wally shoves him. or tries to - it does nothing physically, but emotionally? it immediately drains all anger from the situation. Wally has never purposefully raised a hand against anyone ever, for any reason. and yet he tried to shove Barnaby. Wally immediately turns tail and runs - he locks himself in the RV, and Barnaby goes to Howdy's.

at Howdy's, Wally calls Barnaby. at first Barnaby jumps at the chance to apologize and try to work something out, but then he recognizes the background noise - Wally is driving Home somewhere. that RV is absolutely not fucking safe to drive anymore. the conversation immediately derails and goes from 0 to 100 within a second. Howdy is off to the side nervously sipping at his beer as Barnaby argues w/ Wally. the phone call abruptly cuts off, Barnaby says "the little bastard hung up on me" and starts Ranting. he says things he doesn't mean, obviously, and Howdy is trying to get him to chill tf out. he's just too angry/scared/hurt/worried yk?

but don't worry Barnaby! Wally didn't hang up on you! yeah so a while later (a little over an hour i think), Barnaby gets a call! it's from the town hospital! yeah so he's Wally's emergency contact, and apparently Wally "hanging up on him" was actually Wally getting into a horrendous accident. it wasn't his fault! there was a drunk driver! but it's... bad. the drunk driver had died in the crash, and since it was night and no one was around, help was a long time coming for Wally. its a miracle that someone found him & called an ambulance in time! so Barnaby realizes that the whole time he was talking shit & being angry, his best friend was slowly dying in a ditch somewhere, alone and in pain. and that's a whole thing!

time for some fun "facts"!

the first time Eddie went over to Frank's place, he immediately fainted when Frank turned the lights on & Eddie saw that he was surrounded by pet tanks filled with Very Large Bugs. then he fainted again when Frank removed the tarantula from its tank to clean said tank.

Wally & Barnaby's cat is named Welcome! she's usually small & pitch black with a permanently bristled tail! she's actually Barnaby's - he found her in a park as a kitten, and her unnerving stare reminded him of Wally so he took her home. Wally would like a dog! Barnaby would not! the cat is their only pet and will remain their only pet, no compromise. Wally retaliated by gluing googly eyes & dog ears onto a rock he found, then painting it. its name is Barnaby. Barnaby has beef w/ it a la Elmo & Rocco when Wally isn't looking

one time, during a group trip to the annual Pillar Family Thanksgiving, the gang stopped at a cabin-themed diner. Sally gasped at stopped Barnaby at the door "We must leave - you can't eat here". when everyone asked why, she pointed at a decorative sign on the wall: Don't Feed The Bears. it instantly became a smash hit inside joke that sometimes backfires (like that one time they go camping and Barnaby acts like he can't open the bear-proof dumpsters & locks & coolers). Howdy once got a "dont feed the bears" sign to put up in the store's diner section as a joke, but as soon as Barnaby saw it he left and refused to come back until Howdy took it down. he'd stand outside the store window and gaze at Howdy from afar w/ the biggest, saddest puppy eyes. it was incredibly effective

speaking of Howdy's store! they all built it together! Howdy managed to get his hands on an abandoned shell of an old building, and they all refurbished/renovated it! they all had the collective skills to get it done. Wally helped draw up blueprints & directed the color-scheme / painting portion, Sally and Barnaby used their carpentry skills, etc.

when Eddie "reconnects" with everyone, he feels like he's going insane. 'cause he keeps running into people who are familiar enough that it bothers him, but he just can't place where they're from (most if not all of them look very different from the last time he saw them in highschool). it drives him nuts! and then he meets Wally and Wally's like "oh! Eddie! it's you!" and Eddie's all "uh... how did you know myna- OH MY GOD IT'S YOU". he has a small crisis because he's over that time in his life, he's in a much better place, he's grown as a person. then he realizes that it's not just Wally but the entire fucking friend group he agonized over wanting to befriend for years and years. the group that (unintentionally) made him feel completely alone and like he was living a lie. and he keeps. running. into them. so Eddie, who just moved to this town, starts looking at mail carrier opportunities elsewhere bc he is Not doing this again - only for Julie to show up and drag him to a friend group function. because they all got together and went "oh, you caught up w/ Eddie too?? so we're in agreement? great! he's ours now! Julie, go get him". and then they accidentally break Eddie's wrist in a zealous game of soccer-baseball-corntoss & from then on won't leave him alone <3

Wally keeps his hair consistently dyed a rich royal blue - even his eyebrows! he continuously touches it up so his roots are never showing! Barnaby keeps his hair dyed blue in solidarity, but to a lesser extent - his roots show, and he doesn't dye his eyebrows or his sideburns/beard

on that vein, Wally has a very extensive hair-care routine he does every morning. he straightens his natural curls out, manipulates his hair into that absurd swirl, and hairsprays it to death. & gels down everything else. shit's Airtight. then at night he has an equally elaborate routine of washing the hairspray/gel out, treating his hair with high quality shampoos/conditioner/oils, and blowdrying it with impeccable technique to keep it Healthy

continuing on that vein - one time Barnaby was makin' breakfast when he heard a crash from upstairs. he sprinted to go see if Wally was alright, but Wally had locked the bathroom door and refused to open up. after Barnaby convinced him to, the door opened to reveal a very miserable Wally still in his towel. his hair was green. "the bottle said dye-safe', he said. the bottle lied. he wore hats for a while.

ok im gonna stop here! this is an absurd amount! i got carried away!

[rebeccathenaturalist]

I miss storms.

Growing up in the Midwest, I was scared of them. Tornado drills in school from a young age brought home the fact that one of these destructive maelstroms could come through and wipe an entire town off the map in minutes. Twister came out when I was in high school, fueling both fascination and fear when we watched it in a science class so we could pick apart the fact and fiction. And I was terrified of getting caught out in one if I had walked too far from home, and up from the southwest came dark clouds, wind, and a growl of thunder in the distance. Yet I also felt security as the winds blew around the house, tucked into my bed in the dark; so long as a tornado didn't snake down from the sky, I could rest amid the thunder and lightning, watching the trees blown back and forth by the wind.

But when I moved to the Pacific Northwest in 2006, I found after a few years that I began to miss them. It wasn't just that their relative infrequency had defanged them. Rather, I found that the part of me that curled up while the wind howled and the sky rumbled missed the feeling of safety amid the chaos. Sure, there was always the chance that factors would align to bring a powerful spiraling juggernaut racing across the land, but the vast majority of the time things passed without incident, other than perhaps a few small branches and leaves washed into the storm drain by a sudden torrent.

The few true thunderstorms that raged when I lived in Portland, and then on the coast, became special occasions. Unless I was absolutely uninterruptible, I would stop whatever I was doing, turn off the lights if it was dark, and bear silent witness to the passing of the flashes of light and their resultant chorus. Sometimes there would be no more than one or two distant disturbances to the south or the north; other times we would get a few minutes that almost--but not quite--felt like being back in the Ozarks on a muggy summer evening. These times became so special to me that if my partner were awake later than I was as was often the case, and a storm rolled in, he would gently wake me and sit with me while we enjoyed the show together, before I drifted back to sleep.

So now that I come back here a couple of times a year, I always hope that there will be a storm or two. And as I write this, the southern edge of a storm brushes past Rolla, following I-44 toward St. Louis. It's not an especially wild beast here; the leaves barely move, the rain drops sluggishly, and the thunder only occasionally speaks a ways away. But I am curled up in my old bedroom, blinds open to watch the lightning flash, listening to spatters against the windows.