#or the place inside the walmart

[just-your-average-tangerine]

As a queer person, and especially as a trans person, it is so so important to find a hairdresser you trust.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Balloon animal style erasers apparently?? Which are a very interesting texture, and surprisingly do actually erase pencil

[penisbilt]

we just went shopping and got a lot of organizational objects so tomorrow. tomorrow i shall make this apartment CLEAN mark my words

[askshivanulegacy]

It's so funny to see people slip off the deep end on these posts. This is exactly the type of place you naturally expect to be built when you don't have centuries of history already there and the landscape is already relatively flat and barren and you need homes. Cue the housing acreage, because you get a lot of decent homes for a lot of people. "Do Americans actually live like this" - it doesn't take a phD to recognize why a perfectly normal place like this exists. If this is what looks like a nightmare to you, you need to get some serious creativity back in your life. Trees are small or nonexistent because everything's pretty new, and lawns are brownish coming out of winter or mid-summer, when this photo was deliberately taken, staring into the sun, to look the worst it possibly can.

No it's not fun and hilly with winding roads because that's not what the landscape is. There's no reason to have anything other than a straight road to get places. Welcome to the midwest - it's drab as a matter of course. If you want "interest" you choose a different geography. Plus, the neighborhood hasn't been around long enough to gain a "soul." It's not like it's a bad place. Everything you love and care about is lovingly placed inside the homes. Doesn't matter what the outside looks like. 😂😂😂

And yeah, these places are meant for cars. If you're whining that you can't walk to Walmart, you're barking up the wrong tree. It's not meant for that. I specifically look for housing areas decently far from shopping centers because those places are obnoxious and noisy and I want my peace and quiet. I'll drive the *checks map* paltry 10 mins it takes to reach the store and have all the trunk space I need for my shopping.

Suburbs like this specifically cater to certain kinds of people who don't want and don't NEED to be in walking distance of stores. Nothing about this is actually bad, Tumblr just has an extremely narrow view of what they think the world has to look like. 😂

[merlieve]

bibliophile :: jess mariano

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 & 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Note: i wrote this while listening to “si tu m’aimes demain’ by iliona + the intro is inspired by 500 days of summer, so that’s basically the vibe of the story 😋 Ik there isn’t a market for GG fics but I just love me some Jess.

SUMMARY | Jess says something about how it’s a shame that people arent as beautiful and interesting as books, but he looks at [Name] and realizes that she could be the only person who could be compared to the books he loves.

The soft glow of Luke’s Diner’s sign casts a warm ambience onto the quiet street, the last remnants of daylight as it settles to the night sky.

Inside, the diner was practically buzzing with people, the sounds of plate clattering and a few conversations filled the air.

Ring. The sound of someone coming inside alerted Jess but he didn’t bother to stand up from the bar stool.

“The Old Man and the Sea? I love Hemingway!”

Jess was so caught up in his world that he failed to notice the girl seated next to him at the diner countertop. “Excuse me?”

“I said I love Hemingway,” She repeated, now gaining Jess’ full attention. “You have good taste in books.”

“Thanks, uhh?” — “[Name]” The girl said with a smile. ‘A pretty name for a pretty face’ thought Jess, looking at the girl beside him up and down.

“If you read Hemingway, I’d suggest Bukowski if you’re into poetry.” She recommended, looking down at her nails as she was slightly nervous by the way the boy was looking at her.

“I take it you like classics.” Said Jess, putting down his book.

“Oh, I like any genre! Mystery, historical, sci-fi… you name it.” Smiled [Name] as she rambled about her interests.

Jess found it adorable. “Quite the bibliophile, aren’t ya?”

“Guess you could say that, stranger.”

He was just about to ask for her number when someone came behind the counter.

“Jess, your break’s over.” Said Luke, glancing over the teenagers in front of him.

“Well, duty calls.” Sassed Jess, grabbing his book by the counter but not without giving the girl a wink. “Bye, stranger.”

Ever since that day, Jess couldn’t seem to get [Name] out of his mind and it didn’t help that she was everywhere; the quaint bookstore, at school, the library, even at the Walmart he works at, and that’s at Hartford!

If Jess had learned anything by being [Name]’s friend is that he knew that the way to her heart was to challenge her.

The two could make a conversation about just about anything, whether it was debating the end of The Bell Jar or trying to find the best coffee place in New Haven.

When she talked about her favourite books, Jess had the time of his life listening to the passion in her voice. And it wasn’t only him. Whenever Jess talks, [Name] sounds like she’s actually interested in whatever he’s talking about.

They’d exchange books, they’d lend each other books and return them fully annotated with their own opinions. They’d have study dates after school, which skyrocketed Jess’ grades by a ton and he even helped [Name] out with her AP classes. They’d go to each other’s houses to have movie nights, [Name] would pick some kind of chick-flick and he’d be “mad” at first and then grow on to love it.

Every time he spent time with her, his blooming crush would only grow and grow. At some point, he realised that his feelings for [Name] went beyond simple platonic attraction and not only did that scare him from having a genuine friend at Stars Hollow but it was how he couldn’t contain it.

Not to mention, Luke started to get sceptical when Jess said he was going to school. Since when did Jess actually go to school?

“I’m leaving!” Shouted Jess with a book bag slung across his shoulder as he closed the door.

Luke’s curiosity got the best of him and he followed Jess to a house. He knew it, Jess was lying, again. But right before he was about to reprimand him, a girl who seemed about Jess’ age walked out of the house, she looked a little familiar.

The two seemed to talk to each other for a bit before walking back… in Luke’s direction.

Luke had no choice but to hide in the prickly bushes to remain hidden from his nephew’s sight… ouch.

Later that Day

“Why’d you got a bandaid on your nose?” Asked Jess, referring to Luke’s earlier injury.

“It’s nothi- just shut up.” Challenged Luke as he walked over to refill a few coffee mugs.

A few hours passed until closing time and the diner was starting to get empty. Just when Luke was about to clean the countertops, the front door opened. It was the same girl Jess was with before.

She approached the counter with a friendly smile, the kind of smile Luke hadn't seen in a while.

"Hi, is Jess here?" Asked [Name], her eyes wandered around the diner.

Almost on cue, Jess walks out of the kitchen and greets the girl with a smile. “Oh, great. Are we throwing a fiesta or organising a pity party? 'Cause, you know, I'm just on the edge of my seat here.” Babbled Jess.

"Jess, I got a 95 on AP Bio!" The girl excitedly says, holding a paper in the air. "Really? Let me see," he replies, walking over to her.

“What, you don’t believe me? Well, it’s there and it’s in a big red mark with the words ‘Fantastic’!” She eagerly hands it over, her eyes shining with pride.

“Look at that, Ms. Fantastic,” Smiled Jess as he looked over her paper. “You hungry? It’s Danish day. C’mon it’ll be my treat.”

After hearing the news, [Name] gasped, “It’s like the stars were aligned” She giggled, taking a seat at the nearby table.

Once Jess walked over to the counter to grab a freshly cooked Danish, Luke cornered the boy.

"So, what's the deal with you and that girl?” he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.

Jess shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Just helping her out with her AP classes. Turns out, I’ve got a brain in this pretty little head of mine."

Luke raised an eyebrow sceptically. "And since when did you become the tutor type?"

Jess rolled his eyes, “I like her, she reads Hemingway.” He said as he looked at [Name] who was still walking on cloud nine.

Luke nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "She’s a good influence on you, kid. Don’t screw this one up, okay?"

Jess scoffed, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, well, don't go spreading that around. I've got a reputation to maintain."

[theygender]

I'm being so serious with this. Recently I was watching an Elden Ring playthrough by this guy who's really good at the game and while he was reassuring his viewers that they could navigate some cave without getting turned around he recommended to keep a mental map of it in their head. And I was like. Oh wow. Making a mental map of a place in your head? That must be some real next level pro-gamer shit that's so impressive damn

But. Are you telling me that the ability to make a mental map of places I've been was just supposed to come free with my brain? And it DIDN'T??

Trying to look into what might be up with my directional/spatial issues and I just learned about a condition called developmental topographical disorientation which is apparently defined by patients getting lost bc they can't picture a "cognitive map" of familiar places in their head

.........Is that real??

Can y'all like. Picture a mental map of areas you're familiar with and then like. Use that map to figure out how to get to a place from where you are??

[tarjapearce]

Old Friend

Summary: You meet an old friend in your shopping trip with the family.

Nothing but a slice of life, fluff, bit of angst and a jealous Miguel ~

Whenever it was restock day, Costco or Walmart would be the main places to go.

You'd get the list, Miguel would secure Rosie to his chest, as Benjamin would get inside your cart. Gabi would walk alongside you or her beloved Papa, pushing his cart.

Each would take separate ways, you'd get the meats and veggies, as Miguel would get the rest, powder detergent, cleansing products, and snacks.

"Mama, can I have these?" Benjamin swayed his feet pointing at the  colorful packaging of dinosaur shaped nuggets.

"Course you can, mi niño. Which one you want?"

"I tried the red one last time, I'll get the purple"

Benji's boyish voice echoed around you as you stopped on the frozen meals section.

"Alright, purple it is."

You picked the purple package, a triceratops and a T-Rex on the cover. Then, filled the cart with different sort of meats, Miguel's favorite cuts, hams and of course, lots of canned jalapeños. Orange, pineapple, and cranberry juice, a couple of sodas and finally you got to go to the cereal and coffee aisle.

Miguel was running out of coffee in his office, and back at home you only had a couple of packages. It reminded you the time Miguel nearly had an anxiety attack when he found out he had ran out of the black liquid gold, even in his secret stash.

For some reason the brand he always bought was put on the top shelves. With a huff you looked around to see if there was any ladder, but upon finding none, You stepped on the bottom shelf, trying to get the six pack in the edge, but obviously, you couldn't reach it.

Benjamin giggled when you missed, as revenge you smothered his face in kisses, earning you a loud and bubbling squeal.

"Here, let me." A deep voice rumbled behind you. Your eyes widened at the all too familiar face before you. Reaching effortlessly for the coffee packaging.

"Richard" you mumbled while taking the package, to then put it on the cart.

"Hey" His hand waved softly. Clad in a hoodie, bermudas and sneakers. A little gold band hugging his ring finger. Dull, as his overall aura.

Despite the years coming through, he hadn't lost his kind green eyes. Some wrinkles adorned his matured face. Ricky was only two years older than you, and still had some white hairs poking out here and there.

He sported a short and well trimmed beard, hair parted and neatly arranged to a side. His eyes darted to the boy that undoubtedly resembled alot like you, except for his curious big and round red-ish eyes.

"Whose this little champ?" The smile on his face was coy, but genuine.

"It's my boy, Benjamin."

A proud beam stretched on your face as your hand caressed Benjamin's head, some of his curls trapping your fingers.

"Nice to meet you, champ." Ricky stretched his hands towards him and Benjamin shook it, a tad nervous.

"He definitely has your curls."

You smiled, eyes diverting behind him, ready to meet his partner but, there was none, just his half cart full of car appliances, some diary products and snacks.

"My goodness, you have a beard now."

Ricky chuckled and scratched it. He was a handsome man, undoubtedly. Good and well worked physique. Lean muscles, athletic and healthy looking. Green eyes a shade darker than green apples, pretty lips you liked biting and a healthy tan on his skin, despite him being a pale guy. A couple of freckles adorned his nose.

"And you've got a kid now." there was a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"Three actually. Funny how we ended up doing the things we always said we wouldn't do right away."

Richard gave a soft laugh.

"At least we look good. And I'm sure you're a great mom. How long has it been?"

"I don't know, I suck at math. But I do know it's more than ten years." You pushed the cart to get the cereals and naturally he helped you to get them. Eyes looking for Miguel in every chance you had.

"How have you been?" He tensed a bit at the question, not expecting your openness to talking so casually, specially when your finger shone with a golden band. He graduated college and never saw you again, until now. Gentle and caring as always. You hadn't changed, and he was glad.

"As usual. Existing, trying to keep myself afloat after, uh... my divorce." His mouth pressed in a tight line, green eyes looked away for a second, unable to meet your stare. Ashamed.

Your eyes blinked at his reply. Clearly surprised by such thing. Face falling with worry. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Richard shook his head, and gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Things happen. It's one of those situations that get your eyes open for good." Ricky rubbed his neck awkwardly and you offered a little reassure with a hand on his shoulder, patting it softly.

"Hey, you've got this. I know it's been a while, but I'm sure your problem solving skills are still top notch."

Hw chuckled, almost sympathetic at himself, "I don't even know anymore, if I'm honest. But if you say so."

The voices in the aisles kept indistinct, each in their own world, mingling with the upbeat background music.

"Also... I'm sorry." His eyes remained on yours. Something he'd always do when speaking truthfully.

Your brow quirked, "Whatever for?"

Ricky's hands squeezed the insides of his pockets as he spoke.

"For breaking up with you. Specially like that. It was a d-" He caught his tongue before continuing with the french before Benjamin, "It was wrong of me."

You could only stare at him, and he recoiled further in his spot, shoulders hunched, eyes on the floor.

"If something's worth saying, I... divorced cause my mom also ruined it for me."

You frowned, confused and he shook his head.

"So I cut ties, went to therapy and yeah." He reached out for a three pack of granola for himself, and another for you after you pointed at the brand.

"I'm sorry, I'm kind of confused as to why would you think I'd be happy to know something awful happened to you, Richard?"

Richard's brow puckered. You really hadn't changed at all. Even after he dumped you a few days before Christmas eve.

"I... don't know? Thought you'd hold a grudge for what I did."

"A grudge?" You tittered and this threw him off guard, "Not to sound mean or anything, but I didn't even remember what had happened until now. You know I'm forgetful."

You both chuckled as he nodded.

"Yeah, kinda wondered if you'd lose your head too if it wasn't attached to your body."

You gasped while mocking offense, "That was rude."

You grabbed a couple of cereal boxes Benjamin pointed at.

"But true. In all seriousness, I'm glad that at least something great came after me. Is he a good man?, wait..." He shook his head softly, "Stupid question Of course he is, you married him."

You beamed and this made his chest swell in a mix of happiness and pride. You deserved it after all he also put you through.

"You'll find someone, I know so." It always made him wondered why he was stupid like that to allow his mother come in between.

"I'll give myself a couple of years to heal first. Wanna make sure I don't repeat things over."

It was your turn to get that pride sensation in your chest. Knowing he was making a good progress out of his mother's shadow also made you happy. You out of everyone knew how hard it was like.

"Hope they're ready to listen country music nonstop in your car." He rolled his eyes.

"I know you hated the genre, that's why I always played them"

Your lips pursed with faked anger as he tittered, however, Ricky cleared his throat off the laughing upon watching a behemoth of a man, approaching from behind. Red eyes set on him. A shudder crawled on his skin as he gulped. The baby on his chest did little to appease the intimidating aura around him.

"Mama!" Gabi came to you with an excited face as she showed you her new acquisition. A purple and glittery cover for her phone.

"Qué lindo! Do they have it in blue too?" (How cute!)

"Nah, it was the last one, Papa said this would match with my room too."

Said Papa hugged you from behind, and kissed your temple, red eyes never left him. Ricky gave Miguel a polite smile as he backed away a few steps. Miguel's strong features only turned sharper. It would be a lie to say if Ricky wasn't surprised and intimidated.

Surprised cause you hugged Miguel's narrow waist, a pleased and proud purr emanated from his chest. Loud enough for only you to hear it.

The man before him screamed danger a mile ago. But also, explained lots of things. Like Benjamin's eyes.

"Richard, this is my husband. Miguel O'Hara."

Ricky hesitated for a second, but stretched his hands towards him, big tan hands easily enveloped his in a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you." His nervous smile was like fuel to your husband's ego.

Miguel acknowledged him with a brief nod, eyes not tearing away from him. A quiet She's mine in his eyes.

"Richard and I used to go at the same college. Oh! This is my eldest daughter, Gabriella. And my youngest baby, Rosie."

Gabi smiled politely while holding onto Miguel's hips.

"You have a beautiful family." His green eyes stared at an ever curious Rosie that gazed back at him. Miguel's shoulder's tensed when Rosie gave Ricky a smile.

"Thanks, You'll be fine though. Things take time, but, It all comes together somehow. Just be patient. I'm glad you're doing good on your own." Again, you patted his shoulder, he just gave you a small but genuine smile. Miguel's guts churned as his jaw clenched.

Ricky left after saying his goodbyes, not wanting to impose his presence any further.

"Gabibi, mi amor, can you get the food cart to the line, please?"

"Okay. Don't take too long, please?"

Gabriella took the cart as Benjamin showed her his nuggets, leaving you and Miguel with Rosie alone.

"Alright, interrogation can start now." You chuckled and Miguel pulled you by your waist towards him, ebbing you to walk a few steps before giving a firm slap on your rear.

"Miguel!" you hushed, flustered while looking around to see of there were people and he smirked.

"Wanted to do that before that guy, but that wouldn't be too polite of me, wouldn't it?"

You kissed his cheek, but he quickly corrected the place and pecked your lips.

"That's better. Who was he anyway?"

"My ex from college."

He just hummed and it was your turn to return the squeeze, he chuckled, "Relax. He just got divorced and obviously not having a good time."

"Too bad." He shrugged, a bit nonchalant and you deadpanned.

"Don't be mean. You were scaring him on purpose."

"Obvio. Still, forgot to thank him." (Obviously)

You chuckled as you approached to the line, Gabi waved at you both.

"Thank him?"

"Well, he let you go, and I wouldn't have met you in the first place. So thanks to that."

"Well, he's there on the other line, go tell him."

You teased, but to your surprise Miguel stepped away from the beeline and was walking towards Richard.

"W-Wait! Miguel!" You had skip a few steps to catch him and pull him back to spot, he smirked while pulling you tighter towards him.

"Don't tempt me, mi reina."

"God, I swear. You're-"

"Your husband, mi amor." He smirked, satisfied at his own title in your life.

"A jealous one."

He leaned to your ear and whispered, "Espérate que lleguemos a casa. No te la vas a acabar conmigo, mi reina." (Wait till we get home. You'll see what's up.)

Gabriella rolled her eyes at the flirty atmosphere around you and covered Benjamin's eyes.

"You're too young to see that."

[tsunamis-for-uzumaki]

Tips for making actually cheap punk clothes from someone that has spent a maximum of $11 on any specific project over 3 years:

Bottle caps make AMAZING pins. There's countless ways to make bottlecap pins, but I mainly do it by 1) filling the cap with hot glue and 2) gluing a safety pin to the back. It's up to the individual. But the point is: Save bottlecaps.

DRINK CANS ARE AMAZING FOR MAKING SPIKES! Any aluminum can works - Monster cans, beer cans, etc. - all you have to do is cut off the tops and bottoms; make it a flat sheet; cut the metal into small semicircles; and roll it into cones. They stay in place easily with hot glue, and when you put them onto anything, they look just as good as store-bought.

Save Can Tabs. They can be put onto jackets, made into chains, earrings, necklaces, or anything else you want.

Literally anything can be made punk. Jeans, cargo pants, denim jackets, t-shirts, shoes, hoodies - the sky's the limit. Don't let these tiktok punks tell you that only their $80 Social Distortion pants and $120 denim jackets can be punk. Any clothes you pull out of a dumpster can be punkified.

Old T-shirts that no longer fit and have a design on them can be cut out and made into backpieces. Band shirts are particularly great for this, so if you thrift a Motorhead shirt that's too small, you can cut out the design and sew it onto a jacket and bam - you've got an exclusive piece of merch.

This one's more of an opinion, but: If you're patching up a jacket, sew the patches onto the outside of the jacket. If you're patching up pants, create holes where you want the design, and sew the patches from the inside of the pants.

Do research. If a "thrift store" calls itself a cheap alternative store, but has $50 jeans, it's not a thrift store. It's a vintage reseller, and the clothes are almost always WAY overpriced.

Shoplift carefully. Go somewhere you don't usually go - a large chain like Walmart or Target or Staples, not a local business - and take small things. Don't go somewhere that you're a regular at, or shoplift multiple times in a short period of times, or do too much at once. You will develop a track record and have more of a chance of being caught. However, the workers don't get paid less for you stealing, and the big suits in corporate won't notice or care about a missing pack of dental floss.

Experiment! Have fun with it! I've been Frankenstein-ing my jacket for years and counting - I've taken off the sleeves, added new sleeves, painted on it, put patches on it, added pins, anything you can think of. Be loud, be ugly, be weird, be happy.

If you have a painted patch or spot on pants/a jacket/whatever and it's old, but you want to take it off now, or if you just made a mistake, acetone can get pretty much any amount and age of paint out of any fabric. By acetone, I mean most nail polish removers or rubbing alcohols.

Now, I hate buying things for making punk clothes, but there are a few things that, in my opinion, are investments that last FOREVER. This includes: Hot glue guns; nail polish remover (for the last tip, mainly); paint pens and containers of paint (fabric or not); sharpies; dental floss or just normal thread; fabric scissors; and SAFETY PINS. None of them are very expensive, but they'll come in handy for years.

ESPECIALLY SHARPIES. That's the one thing I won't debate is a perfect investment. You can get a set of 12 colors or 12 black ones for like $9, and you can use them for EVERYTHING. The color also won't bleed when washed, as opposed to most pens and markers.

SAFETY PINS ARE A FASHION STATEMENT IN AND OF ITSELF. They're super useful in making clothes and jewelry, they're cheap and easy to find, and just nice to line the hems of your pants with.

When you make a square patch, fold in the edges slightly so that the edges don't fray. This makes it slightly harder to sew on, but it keeps the patch in good condition for longer - unless the idea is to look tattered. Then don't.

Don't be afraid to add something random and weird to your clothing because "oh people are gonna see it and know I like this weird niche thing" - that's the whole point! It's an expression of who YOU are, not what people want you to be. If people - especially other punks - judge you for it, fuck them. Unless...

No swastikas, no iron crosses, no symbols of oppression, no TERF shit. I'd say that's the only rule of punk - to say "oppression is punk" is going against everything punk stands for. Of course, if you do it anyways, you should at least know you deserve the beating you get at a basement show attended by underpaid and rage-filled faggots.

Of course, these are just mine, and there's plenty more that I do not know. If you've got your own way of doing things that goes against mine, that's awesome. But if you need to start somewhere as a kid punk, I hope this helped.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 5: Heads Or Tails, Fairy Tales In My Mind]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, RIP Jace.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Are We The Waiting” by Green Day.

Word count: 5.8k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

“I know he has a scalpel in his bag,” Baela says, meaning Aemond. You are sitting with her on the front steps of a two-story house—1970s construction, split foyer, pale blue siding and rust-red bricks—on Trux Street in Plymouth, Ohio. This town was named for the place where the pilgrims stepped off the Mayflower over four hundred years ago, pioneers who crossed through the doorway of an unfathomably changing world to die of disease, cold, accidents, starvation, violence. You wonder if you are so unlike them. “He’s assisted with c-sections before, if it comes to that. And he has needles and surgical thread. But he doesn’t have any way to anesthetize me.”

Luke and Rhaena are on the roof of the silver Chrysler Pacifica parked at the end of the driveway and surveilling the road. Everyone else is inside tearing the house apart as they try to find the keys. You don’t know what to say to Baela. There is no way to console her except by lying, and she’s too smart for that. “How far along are you?”

“I don’t even know.” She laughs like she’s on the verge of losing her mind. You don’t blame her. “The doctors calculate it based on the date of your last period, but mine was all over the place. I had tried a few different birth control pills and had all these side effects, weird spotting and cramping, no sex drive, feeling depressed, so I just figured I’d go all natural for six months and give my body a chance to reset. And we all know how that turned out.” She skims her palms over the globe of her belly, hidden beneath the flowing periwinkle cotton of a maternity dress she found at the Walmart back in Shenandoah. “I’m officially due in four weeks.”

“But it could happen at any time.”

Baela nods miserably. “My mum had me and Rhaena the…you know…the natural way, and it was smooth sailing. But she needed an emergency c-section with my little brother. What happens if that’s how it goes for me? Do you ever think about all the ways people can die now? It’s not just the zombies. I could get murdered, or fall and crack my skull open, or get a cut that turns septic, or rupture my appendix, or get frostbite or heatstroke, or get bitten by a snake. It never ends. We’ll be balancing on the knife’s edge for the rest of our lives.”

You wish you were better with words; you wish you were someone who spoke effortlessly like Rio or Aegon. You reply with the only thing you can think of. “Humans have survived for hundreds of thousands of years, and for the vast majority of that time with no modern medicine. It was dangerous, and it was painful. But there have always been people who made it. We wouldn’t exist otherwise.”

Remarkably, this seems to help. “I know Aemond will do everything he can for me,” Baela says, more steadily now. “He’s always been the most dependable one. So serious, so protective. Daeron was visiting us in Boston when everything shut down, and Aemond wouldn’t let the kid out of his sight for weeks…then Aemond almost died when he lost his eye and Daeron proved he could take care of himself with his compound bow.” Baela unwraps a Twizzler and takes a bite out of it, gazing vacantly at the sky, calm and overcast now that the storm has passed, breezy, mid-80s. She doesn’t even like them, but she’s been eating through a pack of Twizzlers Luke had been carrying in his backpack for Jace, slow mindless chewing like a cow’s. “Aemond feels responsible for you now. And that’s difficult when there’s so little control he actually has over what ends up happening.”

“Baela…I’m so sorry about Jace.”

“Drowning isn’t so bad, I guess. I hope he drowned. I hope he was dead before he washed ashore and they ate him.” Baela turns to you, eyes glazed. “Do you think we should have shot him before we left the river? To make sure he didn’t die in pain? You could have done it if you wanted to. Your aim is good enough.”

“No,” you say, horrified but trying to soften it. “I think that would have been…immoral.”

“I don’t even have a picture of Jace to show the baby, everything was online or on my phone, and now that’s all…gone. Just gone. Like he never even existed. How am I going to explain to my child what Boston was, or law school, or aerospace engineering, or grocery stores or shopping malls or Instagram, or anything else about our lives before this whole fucking disaster? All they’ll ever know is running from monsters, scrounging for shelter and supplies from the ruins of civilization.”

“The world is going to come back, Baela. Maybe not for five or ten years, and maybe looking a lot different than it did before, but humanity will recover. The Black Death wasn’t the end, and neither were the World Wars or the Mongol invasions or the colonization of the Americas, or famines or floods or volcanic eruptions. The zombies won’t end us either.”

“Do you really believe that?”

I want to. “Yeah, I do. We just have to hold on until the tide turns. We can’t give up.”

“In that case, I’ll try not to go completely insane in the immediate future. Thank God Rhaena and Luke are still here. Do you have any siblings?”

You smile vaguely. “Four.”

“Wow,” Baela says. “Do you know where they are now?”

There is an interruption before you have to decide how to answer: a roaring high above in the sky, a remote mechanical growling. You and Baela both look up to see a jet zooming by, just below the steel grey cloud cover and leaving a trail of condensation behind it like a comet’s tail of eons-old cosmic dust. From where he is perched atop the Pacifica, Luke is pointing at the jet to show Rhaena. Aemond, Rio, Aegon, and Daeron come rocketing out of the house to find the source of the noise. After a moment, Helaena moseys onto the front porch as well, tucking flashlights and napkins into her burlap messenger bag. Meanwhile, Aegon is filling his pockets with packs of Marlboro Golds and orange prescription bottles labelled Percocet.

“Is that an airplane?!” Aegon gasps. “People are flying again?! Oh, we are back, baby! We are so back! I’m catching the next flight to SFO, peace out bitches, no more Oregon Trail for me!”

“It’s a jet,” Aemond says flatly. “Not a passenger carrier. Probably military.”

“Doesn’t look like one of ours.” Rio turns to you for confirmation.

“No, I don’t recognize it.”

“Then who the fuck is up there?” Aegon says. “Canada? The U.K.?”

Rio sighs, ruffling Aegon’s already quite disheveled blonde hair. “Who knows, Honey Bun. Maybe it’s China or Russia swinging by to drop nukes on any survivors.”

“Fortunately, nobody’s going to waste a nuclear bomb on freaking Plymouth, Ohio,” Baela says, watching the jet vanish into the west, the droning of its engines replaced by the breeze through the sugar maples and sycamores, the screeching of cicadas and chirps of robins. “No luck finding the keys?”

Aemond frowns as he shakes his head, tapping his chin anxiously. He knows she can’t walk much farther.

“How do none of us know how to hotwire a car?” Aegon demands, exasperated.

Rio replies cheerfully: “Well, Chips and I have been diligently serving this glorious nation since we were eighteen years old, and you’re all clueless rich kids. So…I think that just about sums it up.”

“I need more arrows,” Daeron says, clutching his compound bow. All the ones he had are now speared through zombies along the river where Jace died. When you snuck away from the farm at dawn, Luke used his binoculars to check the shores; they were still swamped with zombies, even more than the night before. They are pack animals; alone, they are aimless and easily confounded, their memories calamitously short. As part of a group—if they were crows they’d be a murder, if they were camels they’d be a caravan—zombies attract and guide each other, moving symbiotically like planets and moons locked in orbit.

“I think you’re going to have to start making them the old fashioned way, kid,” Rio tells Daeron, accompanied by a rough pat of encouragement on the back.

“What, like with sticks?!”

“Yeah. Use a knife to carve one end to make it pointy and you’re good to go.”

“Love it. Very pioneer.” Aegon holds up a Sony Walkman, pink and covered with Disney stickers, Ava spelled out across the top in glittering rhinestones. “At least I found this. Helaena, do we have any more AA batteries?” She fishes around in her bag and hands him a pair.

Baela gapes at him, but she’s smiling. It’s horrible, it’s absurd, it’s something you can’t help but find a macabre humor in. “Aegon, you cannot use that poor eaten kid’s CD player. You know it’s haunted.”

Aegon sings like a jingle from a commercial: “Little Ava died, RIP. Now I get to listen to my CDs.”

“Oh, that is so fucked up!” Rio cackles.

You say, grinning: “Aegon, I’m really going to miss you when we’re all in heaven at the bowling alley made of clouds and you’re downstairs in the fiery version of the afterlife.”

“Don’t feel bad for me, Chipmunk. You’re the one who’s going to die without ever having an orgasm.”

“You don’t need a man for that, Aegon,” Baela says.

“You definitely don’t,” you agree. Aemond glances over at you, intrigued. You stare dauntlessly back. What? You said you weren’t interested. The corners of his lips curl up in a reticent smile; he looks down to try to hide it. He’s touching his chin again. His cheeks flush pink as his mind wanders.

Rio chuckles. “Oh yeah, I remember your little experimenting phase. Lots of trips to the Spencer’s in the Tysons Corner mall when we were stationed at Anacostia.”

You raise your eyebrows, though you’re not annoyed. “I thought you were never going to tell anybody about that.”

“It’s the end of the world, baby. No time to be shy.” Then Rio asks Aemond: “Since we’re here and it’s quiet, you want to go ahead and check every house that has a car with the fuel cap still closed? There are some minivans and SUVs down at the other end of the street. Even a few gallons of gas will take us farther than days on foot.”

Aegon adds, checking his map: “A half tank would get us all the way to Decatur, Indiana.”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Aemond says. He offers Baela a hand and helps lift her to her feet. “You guys go ahead, I’ll meet you down at the driveway with the black…what is that, a Honda Odyssey? You know the one, the van in front of the yellow house. Don’t go inside until I get there.”

“Yup!” Aegon agrees as he speeds off, racing Daeron to the house. Rio—not one for sprinting—jogs after them with his Remington in hand, ready to bash rotting skulls in at a moment’s notice. Baela toddles down to the Pacifica to tell Luke and Rhaena the plan, her periwinkle dress billowing in the wind; then they climb down to walk with her. Helaena floats across the sidewalk like a ghost, pausing to pick buttercups that grow up between the cracks in the cement.

Aemond has been waiting until the two of you are alone. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure.” A few houses down, a female zombie—early-twenties, white bikini top, red Ohio State shorts—staggers across the yard and in her attempt to snag Aegon falls and impales herself on the white picket fence. She is suspended there, clawing and yowling, her blackening intestines and dark clotted blood staining the wood. Aegon takes his time getting into a stance and swings his golf club like he’s at a driving range. He hits her dead-on, caves the front of her face in, takes a few more shots just to be sure.

“I get what’s in Oregon for Rio,” Aemond says. “Sophie, the baby, his parents. But why are you going there?”

“Rio’s my best friend. He might be my only friend who’s still alive. And when we left Saratoga Springs, he made me promise that I wouldn’t let him die alone. So before anything else, I have to make sure he gets to Odessa and finds his family. And then I can figure out what’s next for me. But if it really is safe there, I don’t see why I’d leave. I’ve never wanted to be on my own. Maybe I can end up having a family in Oregon too.”

Aemond rests his elbows on the porch railing. He’s teasing you. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m still alive.”

You tease him back. He deserves it. “I’m not sure about you and me.”

“I’d like for us to be friends.”

“Would you?”

“Resoundingly.”

“Maybe I’ll give it a try.”

He considers you. “You know, Kentucky might have been a good place for you to hide out. And it would be a lot closer than Oregon.”

You stand up, throwing on your backpack full of bullets for your Beretta M9s, beef jerky and peanut butter crackers and granola bars, lip balm, bottles of water, Kleenex tissues, Juicy Fruit, miscellaneous treasures from the road, practically worthless trinkets made so impossibly valuable. “We’re done here, right?”

Aemond is disappointed, though not with you. He has committed an error he cannot understand. “Yeah, we’re done.” He walks with you to the yellow house, your sneakers pounding in tandem on the sidewalk, squirrels and rabbits darting through the overgrown lawns, eastern tiger swallowtails swooping between blossoms.

Aegon says when you and Aemond arrive in the driveway, nodding to the once-attractive blonde zombie pawing and licking at the glass of the living room window: “Who wants to take care of Ryan Seacrest?”

“Got it,” Rio replies immediately. He kicks down the front door, macerates the zombie’s skull with the butt of his Remington, then sweeps through the kitchen and dining room searching for any other monsters in need of hasty euthanasia. He doesn’t find any. He drags the corpse outside to lessen the stench of decomposition and opens all the downstairs windows.

“Commence Operation Find The Minivan Keys,” Aegon says as he rummages through drawers and cabinets. Helaena joins him, seeking so delicately she is almost soundless, her large blue eyes flicking from place to place. Luke, Rhaena, and Daeron stay outside to keep watch. Baela collapses into a recliner in one corner of the living room and is dozing within seconds.

“I’ll clear the upstairs,” Aemond volunteers, then asks you: “Watch my blind side?”

You can’t help but smile; it is a generous invitation. It is an honor. You shadow him up the staircase of olive green carpet, through the hallway, into each of the three bedrooms and one full bath. When you are certain it is safe—exploring the back of every closet, under every bed—you and Aemond begin searching for weapons and car keys. The main bedroom is like a forest: blankets pattered with trees and deer, wood furniture, paintings of the Battle of the Wilderness during the Civil War. You investigate every drawer of the nightstand and dresser, then go to leave.

“Wait.” Aemond peeks out into the hallway to make sure no one else is around, then closes the bedroom door. Your eyes track him quizzically, shy skittish optimism, your head tilted, your fingers finding the dresser behind you, cool rust-hued oak, a color like dried blood. You slip off your backpack. Then Aemond comes to you like a returning comet—once in a lifetime, once in an eon—and holds your face in his hands as he kisses you, soft, careful, unhurried, then turning famished, sweltering incurable hunger. You lift yourself up onto the dresser; your thighs have parted, and Aemond is between them, still fully clothed and leaving yours in place too, so innocent, so spotless, and yet in your mind you are imagining what it would feel like to lie beneath him as he opens and fills you, to be so irredeemably close to another person, to watch and listen as he teaches you what to do.

Right here? Right now?

It suddenly strikes you as too soon; you want this but you aren’t ready. Your heart races, you can’t catch your breath. “I am obligated to make you aware that according to your own calculations, I am likely dangerously fertile at the moment.”

Aemond grins as he bites playfully at your lower lip. “Relax. We’re not rounding all the bases this time.”

His voice evaporates your panic, lulls your rushing blood. Your muscles turn to seamless rippling water. Your bones crave the weight of his. “Yeah, totally, good, that’s good. Just making sure.”

“I want to touch you. Can I touch you?”

In reply, you unbutton your denim shorts and pull down the zipper, slowly, very slowly, your gaze linked with his like torn flesh stitched together. He’s close enough to kiss you again, but he doesn’t; he takes your chin gently and turns your face to the side, admiring the curve of your jaw. Then his lips are on your throat and his right hand is skimming down the front of your shirt, over your belly, under your shorts. You gasp—the foreignness of another’s hand here, the disorienting vulnerability—and Aemond stops.

“No, I’m okay,” you assure him, smiling. You kiss him deeply, your fingertips tracing his scar, the work of his careful, gifted hands. Aemond does not flinch away. He presses his face into your palm, offering himself fully, taking shelter in you. And everything other than him—this house, this world, this age, this westward journey, this apocalypse—goes quiet, quiet, quiet, like when you are shooting, like when you are hammering nails under the sun. Aemond makes everything horrifying disappear. It is the greatest sort of magic you can imagine.

“So,” he says. “What did you buy at Spencer’s?”

“Green Day t-shirts.”

“Sure.”

“And some, uh, battery-powered companionship.”

“Hm.” Aemond’s fingers are moving against you; it is increasingly difficult to respond to his questions. “Internal or external? Or both?”

“Oh, definitely…um…I stayed on the outside, mostly. I tried…oh wow, okay…inside a few times, but I didn’t get much out of it. It was mostly just uncomfortable.”

“No problem. We’ll work up to that.”

“Will we?” You hope you don’t sound too desperate. The warm coiling pleasure is swelling, strengthening, begging to be released, loosed like an arrow or fired like a bullet. Aemond’s fingers slip through your wetness, circling and pressing down harder, insistently, masterfully. It feels different than using toys: it is more gradual, less sharp, helplessly overpowering.

“That’s my plan. If you’ll allow it.”

You exhale a threadbare ghost of a whimper against his throat and then reach for his shorts, fumbling blindly for the button and zipper.

“No, don’t do anything,” Aemond murmurs, soft and pleading, almost like a prayer. “Let me take care of you. Please let me feel like I’m doing something right.”

“You’re doing a lot right at the moment.” You’re close now, your breaths quick and panting. You throw your arms around the back of Aemond’s neck and fold into him, feeling the thudding pulse of his carotid artery beneath your fingertips, the softness of his lips and unscarred cheek as he nuzzles the side of your face. It’s so quiet, but there’s no need to fill the silence, no words, no uneasiness. You’ve always wondered what you would have to do to please a man, what premeditated motions and praises you would offer him, niceties, perhaps even lies. But this is effortless. The shimmering golden glow like sunlight is here, and he is the one drawing it out of you, water from a well, blood from a tapped vein. The only sound you make is a shuddering inhale, but Aemond knows immediately. He closes his eyes, relieved, proud, beaming, resting his forehead against yours.

He asks: “Can I try…?”

“Yes, do it, please, I want you to.”

Aemond’s hand shifts between your thighs, moves lower, and there is a sudden jolt of pain like a pinch, like a bite. You wince before you can think to disguise it. Immediately, Aemond retreats, kissing your lips and your cheeks. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You were incredible.”

You reach for his shorts again and unbutton them. “Show me what to do.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

He takes a shaky breath, drags his tongue over the fingers he touched you with, moans so quietly you can barely hear him. He frees himself from his clothes: long and thick, harder than you believed flesh could be. Aemond grasps your hand and places it, demonstrates how to move and how much pressure to apply. Then his own hands drop to grip the edge of the dresser as you stroke him. You nip at his throat, his jaw, the shell of his ear; you coax euphoric sighs from him, feel a high in your bloodstream like something illicit and lethal.

“I’ll be honest,” you say. “I have no idea how that’s ever going to fit inside me.”

Aemond chuckles, distracted. “Women stretch, just like men do. It might take time, but it will happen. And I’ll make sure it’s as good as it can be.”

“I want it to be you, Aemond,” you whisper, and you can feel him throbbing in your hand. “You and no one else. Teach me how to do everything.” Make the world go away.

He gasps as he finishes, a thunderous trembling all over, a gush of white heat that flows over your hand. Curious, you lift it to your mouth. “Don’t—!”

But he’s too late; you lick him from your palm and then recoil at the taste, pungent, bitter, salty.

Aemond laughs hysterically, kissing your mouth and then your forehead. “Oh God, I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

“I hope I taste better than that.”

“You definitely do.”

You peer up at him, dazed, dreamy. “I really like you, Aemond.”

“You can’t fall in love with me.” It is a taunt; it is a warning.

“If I do, I won’t let you know,” you promise. “You’re on first watch tonight, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Then I’ll stay up too.”

“Rio already volunteered to do it.”

“Really, I don’t mind.”

“No,” Aemond purrs, brushing your hair back from your face, marveling at you. “I can’t have you sleep deprived. You’re our best shot.”

“I can handle it.”

“You want to be honest with each other, you want to communicate? I like knowing you’re rested. I like knowing you’re safe.”

The door flies open with a bang; Aegon stands in the threshold. “We’ve got three-quarters of a tank of gas!” he announces ecstatically, jangling car keys in the air. Then he registers what he’s looking at. “Come outside when you’re done fucking.” Aegon slams the door shut; you hear his Sperry Bahama sneakers drumming on the staircase.

“I guess we should go,” you say reluctantly, untangling yourself from Aemond and sliding down from the dresser.

“Wait.” He gets a water bottle out of your backpack, soaks a handful of Kleenex tissues, and gives them to you to clean yourself off. When you’re done, he wipes himself down too. “Make sure you always take a piss after any…activities. We don’t have antibiotics if you get a kidney infection.”

“I know, doctor. I’ve read Reddit threads.”

“Not a doctor. Just a lowly intern.”

“You seem like an anatomy expert to me,” you say, then head downstairs.

The black Honda Odyssey is idling as the last of the supplies are loaded, the windows down, Baela adjusting the driver’s seat so she can accommodate her belly. Everyone piles inside and she steers the minivan out of the driveway and onto Trux Street. Aegon pops one of his mixtapes into the CD player. The song that pipes through the speakers is Prayer In C:

“Yeah, you never said a word

You didn’t send me no letter

Don’t think I could forgive you…”

“So,” Baela says casually, grinning at you in the rearview mirror. “How was the sex?”

“Stop,” Aemond begs, his face going red, smiling involuntarily.

You say placidly: “I appreciate your interest, but that’s not what we were doing.”

Rio turns to Aegon. “Do you know what sex looks like or not, dumbass?”

“They were doing something, okay! Those were not virginal activities!”

“See, our world is slowly dying

I’m not wasting no more time

Don’t think I could believe you…”

You rest your head on Aemond’s shoulder and watch the abandoned houses pass by in a blur.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Odyssey arrives in Decatur, Indiana just a few hours before sunset, gas to spare and plenty of time to find a safe place to spend the night. You break into a house on the outskirts of the west side of the city: a rancher with a screened-in porch, beach décor, bowls of seashells on tables and spray-painted aluminum dolphins on the wall. Baela plummets into sleep immediately, sharing the largest bed with Rhaena and Luke. Helaena writes in her spider notebook for a while before curling up on the living room couch, Daeron sprawled on the floor beside her with a couch cushion for a pillow. Aegon is in what was once a child’s bedroom; you have the bedroom of a teenage girl, perhaps spirited away to friends or relatives in some other part of the country, perhaps dead, perhaps lurching around out in the night somewhere, mad and murderous. Everything is purple, the walls, the blankets, the stuffed animals that form a mountain on the other half of the bed.

You are exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your thoughts won’t stop racing, stop craving. Aemond and Rio are in rocking chairs out on the porch, keeping watch and working their way through the case of Sunny D they found in the kitchen pantry. You go out to join them, then stop at the screen door that separates the linoleum-floored dining room from the porch. They are discussing you. You sit, legs crossed, listening in the dim silvery light, stars and moon and nothing else.

Aemond is saying: “She doesn’t talk much about where she came from.”

Rio chuckles, a low baritone rumble. “She doesn’t talk much in general. But yeah, don’t expect any juicy revelations. That’s not how she does things.”

“Do you know what her life was like before?”

“I know some of it. I don’t know a lot.” Rio pauses; you can envision him shrugging and running his fingers through his dark curly hair, weighing what you would be okay with him sharing. “I know that when I met her, her mother was calling all the time telling her to send money home. And she’d do it, because she felt like she didn’t have a choice. Then she never had cash for drinks or anything, I was always paying her way, and one day I was finally like ‘Chips, how much do you actually have in your account right now?’ because I figured she must be down real low. Jesus Christ, I couldn’t believe it when she showed me the balance, she had like three bucks left until her next paycheck, and of course then her mother would be calling again. She sent tens of thousands of dollars home that disappeared, poof, gone, without a trace.”

Aemond sounds stunned. “What did they spend it on?”

“Who the fuck knows with those people. Lottery tickets and cigs, probably. Trips to Virginia Beach. Benny Hinn Bibles. And when she tried to hit the brakes, her mother and siblings got nasty, calling constantly and telling her how awful she was and that they were going to starve. I convinced her to stop picking up the phone, but it took forever. I think she knew by then she was going to have to cut them off if she didn’t want to end up back there, but she needed somebody to give her permission. That was my job. As far as I know, she hasn’t spoken to anyone from home in years. Hell, Sophie was her AOP.”

“AOP…?”

“Oh, sorry, Arrears of Pay. It’s the person you designate to get all your benefits if you die in the service. I guess she figured that if our base got bombed or our plane went down or something, at least it would end up with my family.”

Aemond is quiet, thirty seconds, a minute, maybe two. “Obviously my circumstances were a lot different. But I understand having to choose between other people’s expectations and yourself.”

“Why are you asking me all this?”

Another pause; silent thoughts under glimmering stars and the shrieks of short-lived summer cicadas. “She takes me out of this world for a while. She makes the guilt and the fear go quiet. I want to know everything about her.”

When Rio speaks, he is gentle, compassionate. “The hard truth is, the details aren’t my business. They aren’t yours either. When people enlist, they’re starting over. It’s a Get Out Of Jail Free card. It gets them away from home, but it also gets them away from whoever they were before.”

“She said something like that once. Back at Fort Indiantown Gap.”

“It’s a polite way of telling you to shut up.” You know from his voice that Rio is smiling. “If she wants to forget her old life, you have to let her. If you care about her, you’ll want her to be able to move on.”

“I care.”

“She likes you,” Rio says. “But you could still fuck it up. She’s good at finding reasons not to trust people.”

“It’s a bad way to live.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I know. I’m the same way.”

There is quiet now, only the sounds of Sunny D being slurped and cicadas screaming through the darkness. You have intruded enough. You stand and walk back down the hallway, then remember something Aegon said outside a Burger King in Pennsylvania. You go to his bedroom, illuminated by a flashlight pointed towards the ceiling, casting long deformed shadows.

Aegon is lying on his back with his head hanging upside down over the side of the bed—dinosaur blankets, bright red and blue pillows—puffing on a cigarette and listening to his new CD player, previously Ava’s, with both earbuds in. Then he spots you. Still upside down, Aegon hits the pause button on his CD player and says: “Hey, Microchip.”

“What did you mean about people pretending to love you?”

He smirks, shrugs, takes a lazy drag off his Marlboro Gold. “Every friend I’ve ever had has used me for money, mansions, yachts. Every girl I’ve ever fucked has wanted something in return. Mother prefers Daeron, Grandfather prefers Helaena, Criston prefers Aemond, and Father prefers his real estate empire and his model ships. Can you imagine loving a miniature replica of the Titanic more than your own children?”

“No,” you say, honestly and with heavy, gore-red pity. “You shouldn’t have to go back to people who make you feel that way. I wouldn’t.”

Aegon takes another drag as he watches you. “Aemond mentioned you’re from Kentucky.”

“I am.”

“But you won’t be returning.”

“No.”

Aegon nods, like you’ve answered an important question. “Aemond talks about you a lot. It’s cute. It doesn’t make me sick like when he was with Alys. Playing her games, breaking himself in half to follow her rules.”

You peer down at your fingernails, short and functional and unglamorous. You don’t want to hear about the older woman who was his lover, his obsession, his cure, his venom. She was poisonous to him, surely, and yet she was experienced where you are uninitiated and unversed, she had a PhD to compare with your high school diploma. Surely in those seven years he shared moments with her that were divine. Surely even a curse is woven from magic.

“Anyway.” Aegon rolls over, props himself up on his elbows, and extinguishes his cigarette in an empty plastic Sunny D bottle. “I have no particular affinity for my old life or the beach house in California, but that’s where Aemond is going. And I have to be where he is. I have to make sure he’s alright, you know?”

Yes, you do know; that’s how you feel about Rio. “What’s it like? That house up on a cliff all by itself?”

Aegon grins, like he’s caught you in a mouthwateringly compromising position. “Why? You thinking about visiting someday?”

“Just wondering.”

He squirms over to one side of the bed to make room for you, popping in an earbud. “Come listen with me.”

“What is it?”

“Just come over here!”

You cross the room and kick off your sneakers, climb onto the bed, lie down and take the other earbud that Aegon offers you. What you hear when you listen is Don McLean’s American Pie. “Oh, this is ancient.”

“It’s a classic. I wish I’d gotten to live through the 70s.”

“We’ll reinvent them when the world starts up again. Disco and lava lamps and shag carpets. We’ll shoot heroin and listen to vinyl records. Jimmy Carter can be president if he’s still alive.”

Aegon snickers, and then he sings along, hushed but surprisingly melodic, solemn, tender. He’s looking at you expectantly, eyebrows raised, nodding, beckoning for you to join him. You adamantly refuse. You don’t sing in front of anybody, not even Rio.

“I met a girl who sang the blues

And I asked her for some happy news

But she just smiled and turned away

I went down to the sacred store

Where I’d heard the music years before

But the man there said the music wouldn’t play…”

Aegon shoves your shoulder. “I could be dead tomorrow. Don’t ignore me.”

Self-consciously, but smiling a little bit, you begin to sing with him, so softly you can barely hear yourself. Aegon is beaming, small even white teeth beneath sparkling eyes, a murky cool blue like storm clouds, like the ocean, waves lapping at the shores of Diego Garcia, the Gulf of Tadjoura off the east coast of Djibouti, Corpus Christi Bay, places you once never knew existed.

“And in the streets, the children screamed

The lovers cried and the poets dreamed

But not a word was spoken

The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most

The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost

They caught the last train for the coast

The day the music died.”

[starry-bi-sky]

finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

[cryslut]

Yandere 6reeze | Headcannons

「 Venti ~ Xiao ~ Scaramouche ~ Aether ~ Kazuha ~ Heizou 」

- in which you get lucky enough to be trapped in an abandoned building that you decided to explore alone, with no way out, why? you'll find out.

- gender neutral

- modern au, stalking, obsession, unhealthy dynamics, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, potentially ooc

- not proofread so probably grammatical errors 

↳ Venti

This guy is a sucker for you. When he first laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but follow you around. Using the wind to find your whereabouts. He knew the scent of your perfume like the back of his hand. He knew every detail about you so he used this to his advantage.

Especially when you, decided to go explore an abandoned worn down walmart in your city. No one knew why it's been shut down, you wanted to go find out. Venti following your every move, lurking behind every corner, you being completely oblivious to this as you tended to be all the time.

It was the only way he could get close to you in a public environment after all. Cause it's either this or he watches you sleep, right?

,

You walked aimlessly around the place, seeing the place completely trashed. The cash registers void of any change or bills. The place was dark, you turned the flash light on, the one you actually brought.

You kept hearing noises, but no one was in sight, it began to scare you. Making your way towards where you came in, it was completely blocked off, almost like someone boarded it up. There was no way, maybe you went the wrong way.

You being there for hours until you finally found a way out. That was a lesson from Venti to never go alone. He didn't have to tell you that though, you figured you wouldn't go exploring without a friend ever again. That's all he wanted, was for you to be safe.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Xiao

This man couldn't bear to ever admit his feelings for you. You two were close friends and almost did everything together. He decided to go exploring with you to an abandoned building.

At some point he completely wandered off and you didn't know where he went so you of course, became very afraid. Until eventually he came back. You didn't know where had gone. You wanted to leave the building after some time, as you two got close to the exit, it was boarded off, completely shutting you two off from getting out and from anyone getting in.

,

"What do we do now? It's completely boarded up?" panic began to settle in, breath hitching. A lump like feeling stuck your throat, "It's okay, I can call Hu Tao, she can come down and help us get out?"

"Are you sure you wanna get her in trouble?" He nods his head at you, he begins to tap on his phone, dialing the very familiar girls number.

Eventually waiting for Hu Tao's arrival for her to rescue you both. It gave Xiao the time to grow closer to you, little did you know that he intentionally did this just so you two would be together longer and alone.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Scaramouche

You had received word from a friend of a friend that there's an abandoned building with little activity around it so the chances of being caught would be quite low. What you didn't know is that Scaramouche, the man himself, paid off someone to get that knowledge to you just so you would go alone.

You walked through the giant broken down building that was boarded up, it was an old mall that had shut down due to unfortunate circumstances. Scaramouche was following you the whole night, without you even realizing.

,

Until he finally made himself known, playing it off like he wasn't stalking you the whole time, "Weird seeing you here," he says nonchalantly. Your relationship with this man was just somewhat friends, you met him through a close friend, Tartaglia.

You turn around to follow the voice, your gaze meeting a very familiar indigo haired man. You were shocked but somewhat relieved that he was here. The abandoned mall was quite eerie after all, "Oh, hi Scara," you say excitedly.

Scaramouche took note of your tone, inside he was smirking and grinning but he kept a composed expression and remained the same way, "You're all alone in a place like this? I didn't even know you explored abandoned buildings," his voice coming off bratty and stern.

"Yeah, I love exploring. It's one of the many things I do in my free time, not a lot of people know about it I guess now that I think about it," you smile gently at him.

For the remainder of the night. He got closer with you, that's what he wanted. To gain your trust and bond with you more, so that one day, just maybe he could have a chance. But if he didn't, then bad things may just happen to you, or someone else entirely.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Aether

You never knew that people were disappearing just because of some simple jealousy. Those same people you had spoken to days ago. Aether wanted to help you get your mind off the recent events so he decided to force you to tag along with him to go explore an abandoned building, it wasn't really obvious what it was as it was completely trashed.

When you decided to go on ahead and look at something out of pure excitement, Aether took the opportunity to completely shut you two in the building together. There was only one exit and he just wanted to be alone with you, no matter where you two were.

Keeping you locked up in there for hours with him, talking normally as if nothing were going on until you realize. You two were further from a lot of people so you the smart little cookie that you are, put two and two together, your intuition saying it's in fact, Aether himself doing this.

Once he had realized that his plans had been interrupted, he knocked you out cold. Waking up the next morning in the comfort of your bed, you only thought it was a mere nightmare, nothing more. Aether's cover no longer had been blown.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Kazuha

He's such a gentleman at heart, so sweet and the most romantic poet you'll ever meet. You were his biggest weakness, he had written so many poems about you, they weren't ordinary though. One day he did write something for you though, sending it your way.

It was an elaborate ruse to get you to go off exploring a place that hadn't been touched in years. He wanted one night with you, and he will have it whether you like it or not. So he sent a sort of letter, a riddle as well. Luring you into an abandoned broken down museum.

Following your every move the whole night. He craved being closer to you. So eventually he sealed off any exit pretty well, just so he could "coincidentally" bump into you and well spend the night with you until he "helped" you two escape the treacherous place.

Since you were so startled by the event itself, due to Kazuha convincing you that someone might've locked you two in there, you were on edge and so paranoid. So he put the idea into your head you should stay a couple days with him just in case anyone was going to try and harm you, and his plan worked so well.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Heizou

Heizou is a detective so he can easily get away with things, brushing everything off. He's quite the master in psychology so messing with you is no brainer for him. After all, when you're vulnerable in front of him, he gets glimpses of who you are. That being said, through one of these moments and fleeting glimpses, he knew you loved dark and mysterious things, this goes for exploring abandoned buildings.

He discreetly followed you throughout the night of an abandoned warehouse, one he actually recently had the pleasure of solving a mystery of a series of murders in. It was only natural he would follow you here, right? He had to make sure his beloved was safe after all. He didn't let you know once that he was present.

Sneaking and covering tracks was not a difficult task for this man. And you made it easy to trap you inside this building. Heizou is not one for psychological torture but sometimes when he's provoked, he will do something to mess with you, without you ever realizing it. Using the abandoned warehouse, by sealing off the exits to his advantage, it scared you into submission until you finally were able to run out of there, telling yourself you won't visit an abandoned place again, at least not alone.

This was just his simple, fun way of trying to get you to come to him for help. You two were close after all. It's only natural.

[alluring-starzzz]

VENOM NSFW ABC

Oh em gee! My first post : a simple venom x reader nsfw abc to get this whole tumblr thing started! 🤙

Gentle reminder that these are JUST my headcannons and aren’t meant to be taken to heart if anything is inaccurate to the character!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Venom is actually capable of empathetic emotions, so with you he’d be quite caring and get you whatever you need, maybe even run you a warm ( or cold if you like that ) bath and wash you up.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

During sex, I’d say his favourite part of himself would be that tongue of his. On you, his favorite part would probably be your tits / chest. Adores seeing bite marks and hickeys all over your chest the next morning.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s oddly.. grayish? It’s like, tinted. If you sniff enough you can smell a faint faint smell. His cum is quite thick, too, probably has a thing for creampies.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has 100% fucked you on a rooftop during the day or in secluded public places, but he has fantasized about ravaging you infront of a full on *crowd.*

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Symbiotes reproduce asexually, so he has actually never fucked anyone before you, but let’s just say you got him hooked. 🤭

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Reverse cowgirl and doggy style just so he can get as deep as he can into you. He wants you to feel absolutely everything, and he wants to feel it all too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Although degrading, he makes a few hilarious jokes here and there. He likes to humiliate you sometimes with his jokes just to see you get all flustered.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has no hair at all, so I guess the carpet matches the drapes, LOL.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s caring and wants you to have the time of your life. He always asks if he went too far afterwards.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His species ( symbiotes ) reproduce asexually, so he’s never really thought about it before.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Voyeurism, dirty talk, sensation play, brat taming, humiliation, degradation, exhibition.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

A lot of people I’ve talked about before usually enjoy strictly the bedroom, but Venom *loves* the thrill and feels alive in high-risk situations. He loves when you two fuck in public ; sex clubs, park bathrooms, hiking trails, nude beaches, rooftops, in your car in a Walmart parking lot.. Fuck, you name it and he’ll be ON IT!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you tease him in public or kiss his neck he’ll go insane, feral, even. He’s impulsive and will immediately drag you to the nearest bathroom even if you meant it as a joke.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

👏 FIRE 👏 PLAY. 👏 That is literally his weakness as a symbiote and will NEVER do it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He *loves* giving, especially with that long ass wet tongue of his. He could wrap it easily around your cock / can go as deep as you can fathom inside you. He knows exactly how to use it, too. Loves to overstimulate you and edge you. He’s also fine with receiving too, but would much rather give.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough, for sure. He’s massively hypersonic and can go so fast you can’t think. Makes you *cry.*

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

We all know venom is impulsive. He’ll definitely be down if you were to ask in almost any given time. Doesn’t do it too often, although.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

YES. 100000% YES. He loves risks, the thrill makes his blood run cold and he fucking *loves* it. He’s game to experiment as long as it doesn’t make him uncomfortable or hurt you too bad.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last for as long as you want, baby. But he knows you’ll tap out quickly, he knows how to tire you out and have you completely satisfied after.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s impulsively bought a few… when I said a few I mean a *lot.* He uses them on both himself and you. Also loves getting you lingerie or costumes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a teasing master, he knows exactly how to make you go absolutely stupid.. but he’s impatient so it doesn’t last long haha.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s moderate. He makes feral growls, groans, and hisses through his sharp teeth. It makes your stomach turn and twist everytime.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He knows when someone’s lying and when they’re being truthful.. so he specifically asks you questions he knows you’ll lie about or deny just to punish you. He also encourages you to have people join in, he loves having you get all the pleasure you can get.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Dude.. He’s 7’6 and 500 pounds… his dick is HUGE. GIRTHY. LONG. 😭

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Wasn’t extremely high before he met you, but as soon as he learned what intimacy was first hand... oh man.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I don’t think venom can sleep, ( can he ? ), so he just lets you go to bed and caresses you throughout the night.

[bellyyearner]

Office life at 550+ lbs Part 2

Word Count: 1050

Gender neutral POV, mobility issues, extreme obesity, stuffing, feedee perspective

Part 1

As soon as you reached your car you felt like you were gonna pass out from exhaustion. You can't remember the last time you needed to do that much activity in one shot. Gripping your meaty fingers around the door handle you swing it open and practically collapse into the driver's seat. The chassis of your car groaning loudly with the sudden burden. One leg on the ground, the other barely inside the car, and leaning back onto the center console you huffed and puffed. Trying to pull enough air into your lungs so that you don't pass out, the reality of your situation finally sets in.

You were filling the space completely. With your hips and love handles compressed between the driver's seat and the steering wheel, pushing your belly slightly higher but still pooling around you and filling all available space. Your heaving chest resting against your throat, forcing your breaths to be haggard and loud, you can hear the cars suspension creek with every rise and fall of your lard ladened gut. Your legs were burning and your joints were crying, your body giving you a harsh reminder of why you don't push it this hard. But that didn't matter to you, digging your fingers into the soft and doughy fat of your overhang, you felt elated. Jiggling and massaging the delicious fat you worked so hard to grow, the pleasure and pain your body was experiencing is the same high you've been chasing for over a decade. Almost losing yourself in it and adding even more treats to your mental grocery list you snapped out of it as you heard another car pull in.

With a sudden moment of clarity you remember you're in public and not that far from the front door of your office, "quickly" you begin to reposition yourself. A puffy left hand gripping the steering wheel for leverage you begin to heave yourself up, pulling one leg inside before taking a deep breath, pushing yourself off the passenger seat with your right. Gas rose up from the depths of your gut and you could taste the cherry cola as the burp ruptured out of you. Instinctively your left hand went to your belly as you tried to massage another out of you but to no avail.

Pulling your left leg into the car and wiggling your ass around the seat you were able to slip into position. A whole multiple minute process just to get into the car, you can't help but feel the endorphins rush through you and send shivers down your spine. The thing about getting this morbidly obese and loving it is that everything you do becomes sexual, to you at least, to others they see you struggle with the basics and feel sorry for you, but you? When you closed the car door but needed a second try because you're just so wide that your fat fucking ass gave resistance and you didn't pull hard enough? Your crotch got hotter, the blood that's usually stagnant from a lack of movement was flowing, and you desperately wanted to handle that immediately. And when you remembered that you couldn't even though you wanted to because you lost the ability to reach without toys, you decided to stop at an extra drive thru on the way home.

Pulling out of the parking lot you take one last look at your office, resolutely determined to never see it again. The familiar bumps in the road jostled your body around like waves in a pool, despite the fear for your suspension, you didn't try too hard to avoid potholes on your way to lunch. Once you had placed your order at the drive thru, you were placing your Walmart order online, adding literally anything that looked tasty with no regard to cost. This is a celebration after all, why not splurge a little. Once you arrived at the window you outstretched your fattened saggy arm to grab a grease covered bag of burgers and large soda. You wondered if the drive thru worker had served anyone as fat as you this week. The thought faded as the scent of your meal hit your nose, quickly pulling into the parking lot to devour everything before heading off to a second drive through only to repeat the process again.

Once you arrived home you spent the first few minutes in the driveway just caressing your fattened form, massaging out little hiccups and burps as you do so. With your gut pressing against the steering wheel you wondered how long it would be before getting into the car would be impossible. You didn't need the car now but decided to keep it anyways so you could track your gaining progress in a fun way. You then repeat the process of left leg out, shimmy ass cheeks towards the door, turn, right leg to the edge, and rise for what you hope is the last time for at least a few months. Waddling to your front door you enter your home and kick off your shoes, another thing you hope to abandon.

With a slow but relaxed waddle you enter the kitchen, grabbing a 2 liter, a bag of chips, and a plastic tin of blueberry muffins before heading to the couch and falling back into the you shaped dent that you've been gorging yourself deeper into. Sips of soda between salty chips you eat with passion, topping yourself up despite having eaten enough for a family of 5 on the way home. When the chips are gone, the muffins follow right after and you can feel the bread expand with soda once it reaches your over worked stomach. With the pressure in your gut rising and supplies running out your hands explore your body and trace the stretch marks you wear as trophies. Deep guttural burps escaping your lips when you find the right spots.

As the weight settles in and your eyes grow droopy from the excess sugar you bite your lip and moan, enjoying the fact that you are the smallest that you will ever be. Pulling out your phone to reorder the most recent door dash delivery because you don't care what it is that slides down your throat, you just want more

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Four - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One, Chapter Two, and Chapter Three! Masterlist :)

Chapter Four - Out Wrangled

Tyler had paid for breakfast, leaving a generous tip for the gals who both gave you smiles and winks as they watched him open the door for you. 

“Are you ready to experience not Youtube star Tyler, darlin?” He asked, walking over to the passenger side of his truck. 

“And there’s going to be no crazy schemes or secret live streams to embarrass me?” You asked, leaning against the truck. 

“Promise,” he said, opening the door for you. 

You squinted your eyes at him, unsure if he was being serious or not. You got inside the truck, gently placing the flowers in the backseat so they didn’t get crushed. Tyler shut your door and walked around to the driver’s side and slid into his seat. Being inside the famous red truck made you feel like you were in some sort of spaceship with how many buttons and switches there were. Some of the labels in Boone’s handwriting made you giggle, ‘color booms’ and ‘stay putters’ were the best two of the bunch. 

“Admiring Boone’s handy work?” He asked, putting his seatbelt on and putting the key in the ignition. 

“I don’t know if handy work is the right word,” you laughed, “Maybe lack of English skills, but I’ll let it slide.” 

“Yeah, he ain’t the brightest bulb when it comes to that, but he’s great with a camera,” Tyler laughed, turning the key and the truck firing up. 

“I’m glad your music isn’t as loud as this morning,” you teased, putting your seatbelt and sunglasses on. 

“I thought no one saw,” he groaned, putting his forehead on the steering wheel. 

You laughed, “If I count as no one, then yes. No one saw.” 

“Ugh,” he groaned, leaning back and putting his cowboy hat in the middle of the dash, “No, you’re not a no one. But I was really hoping I went unnoticed.” 

“You? Unnoticed? Ha!” You said, putting your phone in the cup holder and squeezing your purse under the armrest. 

“What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?” He asked, looking over at you over his sunglasses. 

“You’re basically a star in all of Tornado Alley, Owens,” you stated, looking back at him, “You could walk into a Walmart and be surrounded by people, even if they didn’t like you, they would flock to you.” 

He smirked, “Can’t help people enjoy watching what I do, but they’ll never enjoy it as much as me.” 

“It’ll be a hell of a way to go,” you said, crossing your legs and looking out the window, “Headlines stating Tornado Alley’s biggest Tornado Wrangler got out wrangled in his last tornadeo!” 

“Ouch,” he said, putting the truck in reverse and heading west of town. 

“You’ll be fine,” you said, rolling the window down. 

“You better hope so, otherwise you get to drive back,” he said, “And it’s a two-hour drive to where we’re going.” 

“Which is where? Do I need to inform my next of kin where they’ll find my body?” You joked, glancing over at him. 

“What?” He laughed, “You will be fine, I’ll keep you safe like my life depends on it.” 

“Good, because it does,” you said, looking over your sunglasses to watch his eyebrows go up, “My team is pretty protective of me.” 

He swallowed hard, “I know…” 

“Why don’t we listen to the radio?” you asked, turning the dial to hear the start of  The Dixie Chicks singing ‘Cowboy Take Me Away.’ 

This is where you had to decide how comfortable you were going to be with Tyler as this was the song you sang that won you the high school talent show. As you were debating on it, you noticed Tyler tapping the steering wheel along to the drums, at least you knew his taste in music was the same as yours.

As if it was planned, you both started to hum along softly before it got to the chorus. 

“Oh, it sounds good to me,” you sang softly, grabbing his hat and placing it on your head, “I said, cowboy, take me away.” 

Tyler glanced over at you, a smile coming to his face as he heard you sing. He’s heard a lot of great artists over his years of listening to music and seeing live performances, but none compared to the melody coming out of you. On top of that, putting his hat on while being in his truck? He fell even more head over heels for you, knowing deep down he was to do everything in his power to spend his life with you. 

“I wanna look at the horizon, and not see a building standing tall,” you sang softly, adjusting in your seat to put your boots on the dash, “I wanna be the only one for miles and miles, except for maybe you and your simple smile.” 

As he drove he pictured just that, the idea of having a little slice of Heaven with you sounded so peaceful. All too soon the song ended and moved onto one he could sing along to, even though he knew you could too. 

“Little place is a little bit understated, yeah, the O.J. 's always concentrated,” he sang, rolling his window down, “The AC’s broke so we gotta sleep naked, it’s a good day for livin’.” 

“Since when can this cowboy sing?” You asked, looking over at him while swaying your feet to the beat of Joe Nichols’ ‘Good Day for Living.’ 

“Since I was little, how about you Miss American Idol?” He asked, “You’d be America’s next big star, bigger than Lainey Wilson.” 

“Haha, I’ve tried back home,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt, “Didn’t get me very far so I came up here and started storm chasing.” 

“Have you ever thought about going to Nashville?” He asked, knowing he would hate if you left, but he wanted you to live your dreams. 

“No, if I did grow into anything, I wanted to do it organically. Not the cookie-cutter molds that usually come out of Nashville,” you scoffed slightly. 

“Oh, you seem like you’ve had a bad experience with it?” He asked, his tone being hushed as he didn’t want to bring up any bad feelings. 

“I didn’t personally but one of my uncles tried and was told to do the opposite of what he was doing to become a star,” you said, “It is what it is, but I vowed I would never do it that way.” 

“Understandable, darlin’,” he said, leaning back into his seat and driving with his left hand. 

It was silent in the cab for about a half hour of the drive, just listening to music and feeling the warm breeze on your skin. You glanced over at the clock on the radio, it reading 10:26 am. You had been driving for an hour since leaving the diner, and you still had no idea where you were headed. You weren’t sure what all there was to do in Oklahoma besides chase storms or a rodeo. While you were thinking over all the things you could figure out to do in the state, your phone ringing pulled you from your thoughts.

Asher was calling you. As much as you appreciated him being a part of Storm Riders, he followed you around like a lost puppy and did everything you told him to do. If you told him to jump into the Grand Canyon, he would. 

You picked up your phone, answering “This is (Y/n).”

“(Y/N)! What am I supposed to do on a day off? I’ve already gone through the whole checklist you made for me when it’s a clear day, but now I’m stuck sitting in the van waiting,” he said, “Everyone went to the big town close by to go shopping and sightseeing.” 

“Why don’t you take the drone out and fly around the area, see if you can find some wildlife, and get some cool pictures of nature, Ash,” you said, bringing your hand to your forehead and rubbing circles gently. 

“Where are you even? Your truck is here, but you’re not. You weren’t even here when we all got up,” he said, you could hear the shuffling of papers and a door opening. 

“I went out with someone,” you stated plainly, “Go fly the drone, and if you get bored call Willow or Jade. I’m going to be unavailable for the rest of the day.” 

“O-Okay,” he said and hung up. 

You sighed, “I love that kid but he needs to grow more independent.” 

Tyler laughed, shaking his head, “Send him with us for a while and he’ll learn quick.” 

“Really?” You asked a little too quickly. 

“I’ll let Ben ride with you so he can get better shots of Ol Red here and the team shooting more fireworks into a ‘nado,” he said, smirking. 

“Only you, Tyler,” you laughed, leaning onto the armrest and laying your hand over the edge. 

Tyler glanced over and decided it was now or never. He took a deeper breath and grabbed your hand with his, giving it a soft squeeze. Why this caused you to jump, you’ll never know, but it did.

Want more? Here's Chapter Five!