#there is a point where i'm actually safer to drive with a small amount of pain killer in me

[moonlight-at-dawn]

Maybe now that I have adderall again I can get back to all the things I've left off....

[the-golden-ghost]

(Drive through voice) uhm I have uh...ocs....with a description of their background.... home address....... character flaws....... or like a surprise

LET'S GO

Faith:

Background: I don't know if you mean background like their life or like phone background? I'll do life. I'm reworking Faith's backstory still since The Update but I think she lived a fairly standard life. I mean she lives in a world of Fucked Up Happenstances so I'm not sure how standard it could be but she's got like, a mom, two sisters, a dog. A high school diploma. Maybe she worked at Sears for a little bit

Home Address: Wherever the shop is, she lives there. Above it. There's an apartment. It's technically a derelict building and she's not supposed to be in there but Nobody Tells Faith What To Do

Character Flaws: She is SO impulsive that she's never thought twice about anything. Her motto about consequences is "Consequences Be Damned." However she fails to realize that A). sometimes the Find Out part of Fuck Around And Find Out is actually not good and B). Sometimes her actions also have consequences for more than JUST her

Surprise: She likes to play the lottery. One day she plans to rig it but she hasn't figured out how to do that yet so she just plays scratch tickets for now

Davy:

Background: AGAIN I need to rework this but currently I think he was raised by a gang of thieves ("gang" being 2. 2 thieves. It was a Bonnie and Clyde situation.) I think this caused him to have a hard time fitting in with standard society due to All That.

Home Address: Where Faith is. Unless they've split up for some reason. Then it's Wherever He Can Find

Character Flaws: He is cautious and suspicious to the point of self-destruction and trusts LITERALLY nobody except Faith and eventually Lilah. He's always waiting for the other shoe to drop but he doesn't always realize that It's Not Gonna and sometimes having trust issues doesn't make you safer, it just makes you vulnerable

Surprise: He likes to remove "don't remove under penalty of law" stickers from mattresses. Why? Only he knows.

Lilah:

Background: Small-town girl? Went to the city to try and make it big? Only made it to moderate amounts of fame and is now starting to age out of the scene? Can't believe her life is over and she's only 30ish?

Home Address: She's got a nice apartment but she's starting to have trouble affording it. People just aren't as interested in her as they used to be :(

Character Flaws: She's kind of... I dunno if vanity is the word exactly but she's concerned with her image out of necessity mostly. Obssesed with the past, refuses to face the reality of certain situations etc.

Surprise: I dunno if they have viddy games but she'd be GREAT at viddy games and I know this in my heart

[caffeineforbucky]

As Time Goes By...(Chapter One)

Post-blip (five or six months later)

A/N: This is my first time writing on this website or anything public really, I usually just write for me, please just bear with me if it looks or sounds janky. Also, thanks for taking the time to read. I deeply & wholeheartedly appreciate you. Enjoy!

Summary: I suck at them but, I'll give it a shot. You- the reader, are surprised by 'old' friends when they show up out of the blue, asking for your help on a mission. (This is just the sum for chap. 1)

Word count: 2,760

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! reader

Warnings: Angst, swearing, ex-boyfriend jealousy...

The day was coming to an end, a small heatwave conjuring up a sweat as you wiped down your last table for the night. You blew out a breath, brushing back a sheen of perspiration with your forearm, watching the last customer walk out of the restaurant as the bell chimed above their head.

You never understood why people chose to sit inside when there were tables out on the sidewalk. It was hotter in here than out there, especially since the air conditioner had gone out just a few days prior and the fans above the tables were only circling the air inside. It was an actual oven, but they contended.

Your hightops heaved across the tile, dragging yourself with the sufficiency of a person who was only working because they had to. You kicked up the doorstop, pulling the door towards you with a small amount of goodwill and vigor to finish locking up, flipping the paper sign over from open to closed. It wasn't as if you hated your job. You thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere of it all. It was the only person working the night shift job you hated with every fiber of your being. You weren't completely alone in the restaurant, having a few cooks and the owner to keep you company, especially on busy nights like the one you just had.

"I'm clocking out, Mrs. Turner!" You call out, reaching behind your back to untie the knot of your apron, pulling it up and off your neck once the ties came undone. Trudging back to the table, you picked up the disinfectant wipe and toss it in the bin, making your way to your boss's office before hanging up your apron on the hook. "Mrs. Turner...?" You murmur softly, poking your head in through the doorway, only to see her counting the profits for the day. "I'm heading home," You chime, pointing behind your shoulder with your thumb as she glances up at you.

"Alright, Honey," She beams, a bright smile pulling at her lips as her eyes meet yours. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Working for the Turners wasn't supposed to be a permanent job, in fact, it wasn't even your original plan, as opposed to the small favors you would complete now and then for the people that were willing to pay a pretty penny for your...services.

But you figured having a stable job was smarter and safer than the alternative. And the help wanted sign was very persuasive, due to the pretty colors and splashes of glitter. It looked like it was made by a child, which you later found out, was decorated by Mrs. Turner's seven-year-old. "Always." You accede, tapping the doorframe as your goodbye before parading into the breakroom to gather your things from the lockers.

You take your backpack off the hook and swing the strap over your shoulder before time punching your card and going straight through the back door. The sounds of the city hit your ears as the heavy door slammed behind you. Traffic honks and tires treading against the grain while you walk further into the busy streets of San Francisco.

As you were about to turn the corner, you were met with the sight of your friend's van, followed by a trumpet rendition of La Cucaracha. You grinned widely, gripping your strap tighter as you jog up the 1972 Ford Ecoline, aka Big Bertha. At least that's what you called it. "Luis!" You rejoice, resting your palms on the ledge. "What are you doing here?"

"Scotty sent me out for a few things," Luis answers, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his head turned to you. "I was just about to go when I saw you. Thought you might need a ride." He shrugs, a cute smile playing on his lips.

You nod, reciprocating the smile at his answer. "Yeah, if it's not too much trouble..." You drag, your voice hesitant, as if he didn't offer at all.

"Nah, get in." He gestures, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. "Your place is on the way," Luis loosens his seatbelt, reaching over to the passenger side to pull up the lock, opening the door for you.

You climb in, plopping down on the tufted leather seats as you pulled the door towards you, closing it shut. "Thanks, Lu," You breathe, dropping your backpack below your feet, then you fasten your seatbelt. "How is Scott, anyway?" You ask as Luis changes gears and presses the gas, the van rolls onto the street.

"Ehh...he's...he's alright, know what I'm sayin'?" He answers, glancing at you before focusing back on the road. "I mean, he missed like five years of his daughter's life. He's just trying to spend as much time with her to make up for years they both lost."

You nibble at the inside of your cheek, nodding softly in agreement as the city lights passed you by. There wasn't much you could say to that, having lost so many people yourself. People you considered family just...gone.

"Yo!" Luis pipes up, snapping you out of your train of thought. "Didja see the news today?!" He shakes his head, whistling at the thought. "I can't believe they would just give some random dude the shield like that, ya know?"

You drew in your bottom lip in contempt, nodding once again at Luis. You had seen the news, and they couldn't have picked a better time to broadcast. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Turner asking you in, you would've hunted Sam Wilson down and kicked his ass yourself.

The van rolled to a stop, brakes squealing as Luis pulled up beside your apartment. You sighed heavily, glancing at the small apartment you shared with your Ex-boyfriend. By the looks of the living room light illuminating behind the curtains, he was home, and you absolutely dreaded when he was. It wasn't as if you wanted to live with him, but you had no other alternative. Ever since dropping your side job, money was tighter, and he was kind enough to let you stay, just until you found a place. "Thanks again for the ride, Lu." You mumble, unclicking your seatbelt as you took hold of your backpack. "You didn't have to."

"Don't even mention it, Y/N," Luis reassures, watching you as you pull at the door handle, opening it to get out. "I know how hard it is to get back into the norm."

You shut the passenger door, shooting him a sympathetic smile. "I'll see you around?"

With a smile, Luis waves goodbye and drives off into the night, the exhaust pipe blowing smoke as he rode off. You shook your head, cracking a smile at the honk of his horn. You turned towards the front entrance of the apartment, your stomach twisting as your smile dropped completely. You swallowed thickly, rolling the tension from your shoulders to prepare yourself before jogging up the small flight of stairs.

You fished your keys from the front pocket of your backpack, taking a breath before shoving the key into the lock, twisting as you pushed the door open with your shoulder. "Joshua?!" You voiced, calling out your ex's name to make sure it was him. You dropped your belongings beside the door, pushing your sneakers off before kicking the door shut with your foot.

"Yeah, in here!" He responds quickly, a slight tremor to his tone.

You frown softly, tossing your keys into the bowl on the console table before sauntering to where his voice was emanating from. "Josh, are you...?" Your voice came to a halt, your footsteps stopping altogether as you walked into the living room.

"Hey!" Joshua exclaims once your figure comes into view. "You wanna explain who they are?" He presses, his face crossed with fear as he gestures to the two men sitting calmly on your living room couch.

You remained quiet, your body tense, eyes wide as your focus shifted between the men on the couch and your ex.

"Well...?" Joshua demands, crossing his arms over his chest, shifting in his stance at the unsettling glare one of the men was sending his way. "I was in the middle of hosting game night-as you can see, when they showed up," Josh drops his arms, hands splaying out to gesture to the coffee table consisting of five different dips, two bulk-sized bags of tortilla chips, and a twenty-four pack of Blue Moon beer. "The guys were just about to come over."

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to refrain from any and all insults towards your ex. That explained why he was home. "Um..." You utter, pinching the bridge of your nose, "Fucking hell," You curse under your breath, eyes fluttering open to look at Joshua. "Josh," You begin, clearing your throat as you start with the man on the left. "They are Sam Wilson and..." You hesitate, eyes settling on the man to the right, his sight alone bringing back the memories that you swore you didn't want to remember. "James Barnes," You finish, ripping your eyes away from his baby blues to look at your ex. "Aka-"

"The Falcon and The Winter Soldier..." Joshua finishes for you, his eyes flashing with amazement, head whipping towards the guys. "Shit!" He curses, smiling widely like a kid in a candy store. "Can I get you guys anything? A plate? Beer?"

"Actually," You grunt, interrupting before Sam or Bucky could answer. "Can you give us a minute, Joshua?" Insisting while your foot tapped impatiently against the hardwood floor.

"Should I be worried?" He inquires, eyes filled with confusion as he looked between the three of you, trying to piece together the situation at hand. The main reason you and Joshua couldn't work it out was that you kept a lot of secrets, mostly from him. He didn't like the fact that you wouldn't let him in. Sure, you lied to him, the biggest lie being that you were an Avenger, but that was just to keep him safe. There were other reasons why you decided to split up as well. Joshua knew...he knew deep down you were just with him to pass the time. He could see it when he looked into your eyes. There was someone else in the reflection and it wasn't him. If he was honest with himself, he could admit that it did hurt him. That he wanted a chance to make it work with you, but with the way you were staring at James, he finally recognized that reflection.

He should've noticed it early on-like that day he had somehow convinced you to take a trip to D.C for a tour of the Captain America museum. You were hell-bent on not going, trying to make up some elaborate excuse or an alibi of sorts, but alas, you still went. And for some odd reason, you couldn't stop coming back to the Bucky Barnes portion.

"No," You reply, keeping it short to dismiss him.

Joshua's mouth set in a hard line, a foreign feeling forming in the pit of his stomach-jealousy. He never had to worry about it before, especially when his friends used to come over, back when you were still together. Except for that one time, but how could he blame them? You were the kind of person that listened, laughed at the jokes being made, could lend a hand when needed, and your looks were just a bonus in his book. "Uhm, yeah," He coughed, frowning softly while nodding his head at you. "I have to go pick up the pizza, anyway," Josh brushes past you, fetching his keys from the bowl while slipping on his Vans that sat up against the wall ledge that separated the front door from the living room. "Are you going to be okay?" He mumbles, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

You shoot Josh a smile, nodding reassuringly, his footsteps approaching closer before stopping in front of you, the palm of his hand landing gently on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Let me know if you need anything, m'kay?" Josh's voice is soft, the concern in his eyes making you feel guilty. You knew he cared about you, and there wasn't a time where you'd catch him staring at you for far too long, but you were well past that. "I'm just a text away," He notes, waving his cell in his hand.

"Josh, I'll be fine," You sigh, stepping away from his touch, the sound of his hand hitting his jeans as it dropped from your shoulder. "I always am."

"Right," Josh nods, looking over at the men on the couch before gazing back at you. "I'll see you in a bit, bug." And with that, he turns, opens the front door, and steps out, shutting the wooden door behind him.

You close your eyes, the pet name Josh had coined for you making you sigh. He agreed to stop calling you that all together and it only made you feel that more guilty for ending things. "So..." You pipe up, opening your eyes as you turned to look at the guys. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Bug?"

Bucky is the first to speak, his jaw clenched at the mere sound of the word. Indignant at the way Josh had touched you, even if it was just your shoulder. "I didn't know he knew you like that," Bucky flashes you a taut smile, nodding softly as he shared a look with Sam, but the falcon only shook his head. "How long have you been..." Bucky couldn't even finish the question, his glove-clad hands tightening at the thought of you being with somebody else...someone that wasn't him. Though, it was his own fault. If he hadn't done what he'd done-you'd have never found another.

"Wow," You scoff, padding closer to where they sat. "You don't miss a beat, do you? Just..." You sink into the sofa adjacent to the one they occupied. "-Right into the big stuff."

"I didn't bring you here to question her about her love life," Sam voices, his scolding eyes on the man beside him. "And she sure as hell isn't obligated to answer you, Bucky."

You smile gratefully at Sam before glancing down at your leg that had begun to bounce in anticipation. "What are you guys doing here? And how'd you find me?" You ask, tilting your head in curiosity as you look up at the guys. "When I resigned from the Avengers initiative, they ensured me that I wasn't able to be traced, not by your or any other remaining member. I was supposed to be scot-free," You declare, hitting your thigh with your fist.

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Sam chuckles, shaking his head at the naivety. "We both know that's a bunch of bullshit. The government is always going to have its eyes on us. Especially free agents like you and us."

You draw in your bottom lip, biting down, eyes flickering between Sam and Bucky. You knew it was too good to be true, and part of you sensed the bullshit when the government explained it to you. You just didn't want to believe it.

"You were an ex-assassin. How could they not keep tabs on your whereabouts?" Sam recounts, emphasizing that it was in the past. At least, that's what they thought. "And I had some help from Redwing as well." He shrugs nonchalantly.

You choke out a laugh, shaking your head at the smug demeanor emitting from Sam. "Redwing," You whisper, smiling thinly. "Of course, nothing could ever be hidden from your personal P.I, huh?"

"I hate that thing," Bucky grumbles, folding his arms across his chest. in annoyance. "Invasion of privacy, I'm telling you."

"You love redwing," Sam jokes, playfully jabbing Bucky's arm with his elbow, "It's okay Bucky, you can admit it."

"Can we get back to the issue here?" You interject, "Not one of you has explained the reason you're here. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's great to see you...one more than the other," You whisper that last part but, completely aware that Bucky could hear it. "But, you both showing up out of the blue...? That's almost a bad omen."

"I didn't ask him here, by the way," Sam acknowledges, raising his hands in defense, "I just want to get that out of the way. Bucky came because he wanted to. I'm here," Sam gestures to himself, "-For one reason and one reason only..."

"And what's that?" You ask, leaning forward in your seated position.

"I need your help, Y/N."

[potions-and-potters]

The tags on your newest snack post were wild. What a roller coaster of emotions. Any chance we get to hear the story involving mashed potatoes and a bed that was not even yours? I'm intrigued. ~Sleepy Anon

Lol

It’s a long story and is probs less funny than is awful. Here is shorter version:

When I was in middle school we had this trip. It was just a long weekend, but it was a traditional trip. Everyone who went to my school district knew about it. It was legendary. It was to this camp. No idea where. Basically, we packed our bags and went off to learn about nature, recycling, sharing, waste, etc. We weren’t allowed technology and we’d be sleeping in cabins (separated boys and girls)

Here is the thing to know about me when I was this age:

I had one best friend, who was also my only friend, and wasn’t going on the trip at the same time as me. It was a big school, so certain wings of the school would go one week and the other the next and we weren’t in the same wing. 

I was bullied a lot. Badly. Like Severus ain’t got nothing on me, son.

I was very very very self-conscious and had hella bad untreated anxiety and depression.

I learnt from experience that telling teachers about bullying did jack shit to help it, but did make it 500000000000 x worse.

I was really looking forward to this trip, but was fucking terrified of being humiliated by the others students.

I was terrified of getting in trouble because I had brought my phone with me even though we were forbidden to do so. My parents had forced me to take it in case, and also I felt safer with it knowing my mom was a phone call away.

I had a huge fear of teachers and getting in trouble. No idea what I thought they’d do. But I was always good. 

So, after driving for, what to my 11-year-old self, felt like forever and being left alone or bullied the entire way, we finally arrived. Here is why it was awful and traumatic:

I had to sleep in a bunk bed with the other girls in my classes that made their entire lives about making mine utter hell. Like I cried myself to sleep every night and begged my mom every morning not to send me to school or transfer me to another one or send me to boarding school in Switzerland (another story).  

I put NOTHING past these girls. They were 11-year-old MONSTERS. They didn’t want to just see me crying. They wanted to break me. They wanted me to utterly and completely break down. They wanted blood. When I say these were the worst years of my life, I mean it. Honestly, I’m genuinely surprised I can share this story because due to those monsters and the psychological survival mechanism of repression, I don’t remember much of these years. At all.

So, just having to be there was awful. I couldn’t sleep. Not just because those assholes talked and giggled all damn night, but because I was scared of letting my guard down. I also had to make my bed and I had a stuffed animal (not the usual one I slept with because NO WAY would I risk bringing it there with them). I tried hiding it all the time. Like a freaking spy mission so they wouldn’t see it. 

There was one girl that wasn’t absolutely horrid to me. She used me and I knew it but at that point, someone who openly used me but would be decent to me was better than nothing. None of them were her friend either, so she basically “let” me hang out with her so she had company. She also made me make her bed. Like verge of tears and whining until I did it. To make sure the others didn’t pick up on it and use it against me (also didn’t want them to start targeting her because what asshole is okay with someone else being bullied?), I did it. Too bad right after I got made fun of like hell by the others. 

I was terrified of going to the bathroom. I was scared they’d like somehow open the door or somehow figure out how to make fun of me for peeing like a normal damn person. They had also all snuck their phones in, so I was also absolutely terrified they’d stand on the toilet and take a photo of me sitting there trying to pee in peace and then pass it around the school.

Then there was showering. Oh my god. Me being naked at ANY POINT IN TIME with them there? The showers were already a little too cabin-y for me anyway, as in there was like a shower head and a door that wasn’t exactly completely concealed. And I had to shower there. Where they might peek to laugh at me for whatever reason. Maybe even just to laugh to make me think they were laughing at something about me. They were cruel and manipulative. I wouldn’t have put it past them. So yeah. Terrified. Also, showers were timed. 5 minutes MAX. Any longer and the water turned ice old and then off.

I came out one night and they were all acting… well they were ignoring me. I had walked out the bathroom from brushing my teeth and it had been a whole half hour at least that they’d said anything to me… and they ignored me? I immediately went to my bed. My stuffed animal was gone. I asked for it. They laughed. I told them it wasn’t funny. That I wanted it back. Please. Stop. It isn’t funny. Just give it back and leave me alone. Please. They laughed. I checked every bunk. They stuffed it under the mattress of the last top bunk in the very very back. Then bullied me for being upset.

This was like nightly.

The days were boring and spent alone. Writing in notebooks. Listening to teachers. Dealing with bullying. The usual except we walked through the woods.

Meals were absolutely horrific. This is the waste part. It was basically child abuse. I mean even as a kid I knew it was wrong, but the older I get the more angry I get that it happened. My parents, when I told them when I returned, were FURIOUS and said it was a good thing it didn’t happen to me (it did).

There was a competition. Because the camp was to teach us about nature and waste, we were to have no leftovers. That meant you only took what you could eat. Nothing more. The table with the least leftovers won. In the middle of the table was a tube thing with measuring lines where you dumped the leftovers. The thing is, you also didn’t get to eat anything other than your 3 meals a day. No snacks. After spending the ENTIRE day (from like dawn to dusk) running around outside and doing stuff, you’re STARVING. Everyone is. And super cold because it was freaking late Autumn and wet as fuck so we all sat on wet leaves if we sat at all so you just want to fill yourself with hot food at the end of the day. But you can’t take more than you can eat. This sucked for me because I was so scared of getting in trouble for wasting food, but so hungry, but couldn’t get small amount then more if I wanted to because I was scared of getting bullied for it. So I went hungry.

This girl that was sat at my table though. She didn’t think about it one night. She was hungry. So she put food on her plate and she ate. Then, the end of the meal was coming up. Each table had one of the people from the camp thing sitting there to teach us more facts. She saw that this girl had food on her plate. She wasn’t happy and wasn’t about to lose. The girl said she was full and couldn’t eat anymore. She said she was sorry we wouldn’t win. All the kids said it was okay because hey we get it. Also, it’s just a competion. And one night. Don’t force yourself.

The camp lady didn’t agree. She forced the girl to eat it. The girl tried. She really did. But she couldn’t. Nobody was allowed to help her. The lady forced her to mash her muffin, mash potatoes, some kind of meat I can’t remember, eggs, and some kind of dessert together into a disgusting thick mixture. Then, she forced her to spoon it in her mouth and swallow. Spoonful by spoonful until it was gone. The girl was crying at the end. Ready to vomit. We all watched on in horror. 

We didn’t even win.

After four days of this, we came home. I was exhausted, starving, gross, and upset. The ONLY thing I wanted was to shower, eat something, and sleep. But no. With the WORST TIMING EVER this family that my family was friends with came over as well as our neighbors. It was like a little party. Worse, my mom was babysitting this four year old kid that I swear at times turned into an actual demon child. Well, already at the breaking point, this kid pushed. Hard. And I cracked. Bad. I ended up screaming at her to behave and basically stop being a bitch (but nicer) as she hid in the corner glaring at me, in front of everyone. It was… not a good look. 

So yeah. All that added up to condition me to see waste= BAD NO DO NOT DO NO NO BAD SO VERY BAD

Middle school sucked.

[inklingofadream]

I was talking about this with my mom earlier and then encountered this ~2 year old post clearing out my email

So. Every summer, we go to Park City for a few days. The thing about Park City is that solid majority of the interesting places and events are on Main Street, but it isn't very... main. 15 minutes up the road you've got most of the hotels, the normal outlets like Walmart and McDonalds, one of the main sites for outdoor concerts, and so on, but Main Street is one of those nebulously-historic Main Streets preserved for tourist appeal. The stuff there is mostly small/local, with a marked preference to things that could be described as art galleries and/or boutiques.

It's also pretty narrow. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that it's a bit narrow even by the standards of other preserved historic streets. And Park City is up in the mountains, so it's at a pretty steep angle. Altogether, it feels a lot like being down a slot canyon, and while you probably could, in ideal conditions, have cars parallel parked on both sides of the street at the same point where cars going both directions pass each other, you probably shouldn't.

So part of the tradition is going to the bookstore, Dolly's, with my mom. We've spent a while there, puttered around some of the other places, and returned to the car with ice cream. Which is fortunate, because we ended up needing something to do. The street is narrow enough that you generally want to be cautious about when you pull out.

As we're sitting there, waiting for the cross-traffic to pass, it does not pass. It's usually pretty sparse, because there's a big parking garage within walking distance because they REALLY don't want a bunch of cars on their nice walkable picturesque street. I think there might actually be signs telling you NOT to take oversized vehicles through. Main Street has signs telling you not to drive there, period, a good chunk of the time, because it's shut down for festivals of various descriptions.

A man taps on the window and he and Mom get wrapped up in having her pull exactly the right 3 inches up the hill. Someone missed the memo on what kinds of vehicles Main Street is ideal for, BIG TIME. Eventually, we're able to see that someone has pulled one of the biggest RVs I've ever seen into one of the itty bitty alleys connecting Main Street to the rest of the world, and is trying to turn onto Main Street. The man at our window was the passenger in a car waiting for them to manage this quite possibly impossible and definitely foolish feat, and ended up jumping out to direct traffic around this farce so that we didn't all die waiting. [readmore inserted so you don't die scrolling]

We can tell from the first section of the RV that it's one of the great big ones with a little loft over the driver's compartment, but it becomes apparent that it's also super long. A discussion was had about making the RV go backwards through the alley, because this was such a bad idea that that would probably have been the safer option. The people in the RV do not care about the rulings of the Traffic Samaritan, unfortunately, even though without him I'm absolutely convinced they would have ended up shelling out exorbitant amounts of money to repair the RV, the buildings, probably some other cars, and quite possibly human bodies.

We're just eating our ice cream and watching this go down, because barring further rulings of the Traffic Samaritan we're out of the line of fire and the RV should be able to make an itty bitty set of point turns to stop being perpendicular to the street. It feels not unlike we have walked out and sat in the middle of the road and looked up about .3 seconds before RV impact. Every time we think it's going to make it, we are proven wrong. It just. keeps. going.

The Traffic Samaritan manages to get people to move enough that the RV can slowly (so slowly) start to turn. I think this was the point when the Traffic Samaritan was freed from his purgatory (but we and the RV and gathering spectators were not). As the RV turns, we can see its front windshield. I'm in the passenger seat, and can't really see the main action. so that's where I look.

At first, I think I'm seeing things. It's a very tall RV, and we're downhill, there are some reflections adding to the obfuscation of the tinted windshield. I decide to see if Mom can get a better look.

We are forced to conclude: the guy who thought this was a good place for his RV has a prosthetic hook. This is additionally confirmed moments later, because he's a guy who talks with his hands, and I assume his passengers were assessing the RV's odds of managing this safely to the same grim conclusion we were. The driver has a point, though: At this point, it's kinda point of no return territory.

We finish our ice cream, and start amusing ourselves by checking to see if maybe we've hallucinated the hook because the rest of the events were already pretty surreal. The RV literally rivals some of the surrounding buildings in size, and since we're downhill it looks even bigger. The main thing said is, "He really does have a hook, right?" over and over, trading off who asks and who asserts that he absolutely does.

Victory! The RV has hit the point where it should be able to easily orient itself the rest of the way and drive down Main Street.

Defeat: The RV is also TOWING AN SUV. We begin a new round of tiny, treacherous course corrections. The RV is literally stopping all vehicle traffic and most foot traffic, because one side of the sidewalk is full of RV and the other is full of spectators as well as pedestrians.

Fortunately, this round passes faster and just as uneventfully as the first, and the RV is soon headed down the street. Which is good, because if it hadn't we were probably going to injure ourselves laughing at the situation.

We're still laughing and confirming that that actually happened when we leave Main Street behind and realize that we didn't take any pictures. At all, even of the initial approach. My dad literally thought we were playing a joke on him, because the RV in and of itself is such a wildly bad idea. He still would, probably, if he hadn't run into someone else who independently brought up their view of the RV action earlier.

I encountered IRL man door hand hook car door today