#truck drift games

[curitibacitybrazil]

9 of March 2023, trip from Curitiba to Joinville, there was an entrance to the escape area, it happened around 4 pm. A truck carrying 36 tons of vegetable oil fell 85 meters into the box after losing its brakes. The driver was not hurt.

Curitiba - Brazil 🇧🇷

[roseydamazonia]

Freaky diva..

[yourbabygirlu]

[novaninjan]

A Next-Level Car Simulation Open World Game

Wheel Wizards is one of the most popular new games, captivating players with its realistic car simulation. This game combines the thrill of car parking challenges with the freedom of an open-world experience. Players can explore vibrant cityscapes, complete various missions, and test their driving skills in over 20 parking challenges. The game’s realistic mechanics and smooth controls make it feel like you're truly behind the wheel.

[motorsportverso]

Novidades Fia Motorsports Games 2024

A terceira edição do Fia Motorsports Games , a olimpíada do esporte a motor da Fia em Valencia na Espanha no final do próximo mês de outubro com 26 modalidades dividas em Rally, Crosscar, Kart Endurance , Kart Sprint, Esports, GT Racing, Truck Racing, Drift, Slalon, F4.

As categorias de GT , TCR,Kart Sprint usaram combustível sintético, de Kart cerca de 100% e nas categorias de GT e TCR, 50%, combustível fornecido pela ETS Racing fuels.

A categoria de corrida de caminhões, foi cancelada por ter poucos inscritos.

A Pirelli será a fornecedora oficial de pneus de rally, GT   Sprint e Relay, TCR Cup e F4 Cup.

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A post shared by Linda Dominguez (@naijalifeprtv)

[drivingonly]

SnowRunner - Balancing some goods

[phantomrose96]

What the hell happens in the pikmin game?? Those little colourful bitches have been around for ages, but i never bothered looking them up, i just figured they were cute little mascots of some game. But your posts are making me question everything. Is it a horror game? (I know i could just google it, but asking you is funnier)

Yeah you're right asking me is much funnier :)

Pikmin is a fun and relaxing game! You play as a little astronaut man who gets to spend his days growing Pikmin, who are sweet and peaceful little plant creatures with leaves, buds, or flowers on their heads. You can corral them around with a little trumpet, like a bouquet of flowers following you through the pretty and whimsical landscapes of planet PNF-404 :)

Wait did I say fun and relaxing?

Sorry, typo.

It's a brutal skill-based survival game (❁´◡`❁)

So then maybe you're wondering, what's up with the Pikmin? What was that about growing a bunch of little flower guys? Well growing the Pikmin is super important!

It's super duper important mainly because you need to replace the Pikmin who die in the carnage of battle for you!

Battle against what?

Everything.

See on PNF-404, Pikmin are the bottom of the food chain. Just about every living breathing creature on this planet is orders of magnitude larger than the Pikmin and munch Pikmin by the hundreds for breakfast. Predators will do this instinctively. They will do this unprompted. They will do this while you're not looking. They will do this endlessly until every last Pikmin is dead.

So... what good are the Pikmin? What chance do they stand?

Really easy. Pikmin are the most violent creatures in the entire game 🥰🥰🥰.

How else do you survive when you're small and fragile other than incredible violence? Pikmin can exist out and about in swarms of up to 100. And the only way to survive predators as small little leaf creatures is to beat those predators to death with incredible mob violence before they can kill all of you.

Pikmin don't die like plants. They die like warriors.

And sometimes, this is the hardest mechanic to handle. Left to their own devices Pikmin will seek to shed blood. It's up to you to call them away from orchestrating their own demise, their own pursuit of the glory of Valhalla. It's in their nature. It's in their plant-blood.

And they go down hard. They shriek when snapped up in the jaws of predators. They glub and wail when drowning in water. They trill out screams when on fire. They choke and cough in poison. They die instantly to electricity. And you'll know a Pikmin is well and truly dead once it lets out a final whimper, and a ghost drifts away from where it once stood. This can happen by the dozens. This can happen to all 100 at once.

So wait, wait I've gotten far ahead of myself. Why the violence? Why the death? Why the fighting? What was that about a little astronaut man?

Well your astronaut man is Olimar, an honest and simple family man who's a freight ship captain from his home planet of Hocotate. He's a truck driver! He's just a guy taking his first vacation in years.

And a meteorite strikes his ship, tearing it to pieces as it crash-lands on a completely uncharted planet. Welcome to PNF-404...

And so you're Olimar. A truck driver. A nice dad. A victim of capitalism with the world's worst boss. Out on vacation.

Your ship is destroyed. No one is coming for you. No one will save you.

The oxygen on PNF-404 is poisonous.

You have 30 days before your life support system runs out.

You have 30 days until you die a brutal and lonely death.

Your only hope is to find every scattered missing piece of your ship--30 of them--strewn across the planet, return them to your ship, and repair it, before your 30 days are up.

But this is simply impossible. You're one tiny little man. You wouldn't be able to lift a single piece of your ship, let alone 30 of them, let alone doing so while fending off the wildlife hellbent on killing you.

But the Pikmin seem to like you...

So all that death? All the carnage and destruction? It's all in the effort to repair Olimar's ship before he suffocates. You pave a path of destruction decorated with the bodies of any creature that stands before you and your missing ship pieces.

The Pikmin do it. The Pikmin trust you. The Pikmin follow your command and die by your command. After all, you're growing their species. Oh did I forget to explain that part? The "how" of how growing Pikmin works?

Simple. Pikmin are grown from the corpses of the creatures they kill :).

If you kill something, the Pikmin take it back to their base and process it for pieces, and grow new Pikmin from it. That's how you get all the nice little flower creatures following you around. :)

Is it good enough? Can you sleep at night knowing that 50 creatures who trusted you implicitly were slaughtered under your misdirection? All to retrieve a hunk of metal which is 1/30 of the hope of getting you home alive? 100 slaughtered? 200? Day 30 is approaching. Things are looking bleak.

You're Olimar. Day 30 has arrived, and you haven't fully reconstructed your ship. You have no option to stay. Your life support has run out. You watch the Pikmin you've left behind, as you attempt to start up your ship which has not been safely repaired.

You try to take off, and try to make it home.

It does not go well.

But at least the Pikmin have another corpse to carry.

[exactlymaximumgarden]

schlatt with a celebrity s/o. maybe you're famous from acting, from music, streaming, modeling, literally whatever. either way, you're famous in your own right.

so imagine schlatt is doing a simple gaming stream, specifically another drunk truck simulator. he has media share turned on to entertain himself while on the road, and his viewers are submitting the usual stuff they know will make him laugh. however, one submission throws him for a loop.

it's a thirst edit of you.

schlatt has to stop a second and watch, ogling at the screen as the edit plays. "god damn," he softly mutters under his breath. meanwhile, his truck slowly starts drifting to the wrong side of the road, half of chat laughing at his reaction and the other half screaming at him to pay attention to the drive.

"who sent that in? who sent that? that is- ope." schlatt quickly veers back into the correct lane. "that is not funny. do not send me edits of my girlfriend while i am on the road, okay?" he can't help himself as he starts dissolving into laughter. however, his cheeks have very visibly heated up. "i am not a distracted driver, chat! i will not become one of those... those drunk crashers they warn you about."

this, of course, only enables chat further. more and more edits of you are flooded into the media share queue, and every single time, schlatt can't take his eyes off you. he tries to play it off by laughing, yelling "STOP!" at chat, but he secretly loves it. any opportunity to admire you is a welcome one. however, finally, he pauses his game and playfully scolds the viewers.

"guys, guys. look, i love looking at (y/n) as much as you do. i do. but i really need you guys to curtail it for tonight, alright? i'm gonna flip the fuckin' truck again if i keep takin' my eyes off the game."

he squints at chat as the responses come flooding in.

"someone said, 'you know you like it, sclit.' i know i do! you got me, man, i do! my girl might kill me if i set a bad example on the road, though. y'know how it is."

[roseydamazonia]

Dine with the Devil #Damazonia

[foldingfittedsheets]

My beloved requested we get pizza tonight from the place I got fired. It’s been long enough that I’m not salty, it’s good pizza.

It was packed which wasn’t too unusual for a Friday night but the line was crawling at a super slow pace which was unusual. As we got closer we realized there was a massive table full of uncooked pizzas waiting to go in the oven. Which like, how?

We also saw they didn’t have dough pressed and ready and were frantically doing that while restocking the line with pepperoni and mushrooms.

A harried man shouted it would be at least a 30 minute wait. After a moment he added that they were hiring. It took every ounce of willpower not to shout that that I’d been fired once already but I’d go for twice.

I kept looking for a reason for this predicament. What had happened to set them so far behind? Why hadn’t they had a ton of dough pressed and ready for a Friday night? It seemed absurd that they couldn’t handle a Friday crowd.

After waiting for thirty minutes in line, we got up to order. The girl misspelled my name in the most bizarre way I’ve ever seen in the manner of someone who’s brain has moved passed stress into madness.

She didn’t have dough to make our pizzas but was gamely pressing on with taking our order when the fire alarm got pulled.

The whole restaurant had to empty and the staff looked like they were at the end of their ropes. We got outside and my beloved was ravenous. They had sat in traffic for an hour to get here from work. I kissed their face and told them I’d go pick up pizza at another location and meet them at home. They thanked me effusively and we parted. I saw the fire truck arrive as I pulled away.

When I arrived the other location was *dead*. There were only three customers. But I immediately recognized one of them as the girl who had been behind us in line at the last place. “Are you…?” I asked

“Yes. What do you want to bet they pulled that alarm themselves?”

We laughed and finally got our pizzas, drifting our separate ways after our shared unreasonably long quest for dinner.

[tradgedyinwaves]

First Choice - Part 4

Part Four of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: social anxiety, self-doubt, drinking, more touchy-touchy, reader thinks about sexual acts

In celebration of 200 followers, this part has way more than 650 words. More like 1600. :)

Conversation flowed easily with them despite their sole focus being on you. At some point, Kyle’s hand had drifted onto your thigh, fingers pressing into the flesh gently. John’s arm had slipped from the back of the booth and now rested around your shoulders. You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed Johnny couldn’t keep his feet still and kept tapping yours under the table. The only one who couldn’t seem to relax was Ghost, sitting almost across from you. 

His eyes never left you and he mainly seemed to communicate in grunts. At least, he was drinking this time, his glass now empty of his own whiskey. You were careful not to drink too much, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of these beautiful men. But it didn’t keep you from relaxing and feeling the warmth of the two next to you. 

Pulling out your phone, you checked the time and groaned. “I really should be going. It’s been great,” you announce, looking to Kyle to move so you could slide out from the booth. “Aw come on. We’re having so much fun. Just a wee longer?” Johnny asks and you turn to him, finding yourself giving in almost immediately. Damn the puppy dog eyes. 

“Only a bit longer,” you concede and relax back into the seat. This time when Kyle’s hand lands on your thigh, it’s higher and the heat is searing through your jeans. You let out a soft sound, biting your lip as his hand starts slowly caressing your thigh up and down. He’s not even looking at you when you look up, already deep in conversation with Johnny about some sports game you had no clue about. 

John’s arm settled back over your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer so his hand hovers over your breast and you can feel the hair of his arm on your bare collarbone. Your breasts jiggle slightly with your laugh when Johnny makes a joke and you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate ever so slightly before darting back up to your face. He, at least, has the decency to blush, the faint pink color tinging his cheeks. 

When the crowd in the bar starts to thin out and you realize even your friends have left for the night, you’re yawning in your seat and now leaned completely against John with his thick arm draped over your shoulders. Kyle’s hand is now tucked between your thick thighs, the side pressed as tightly to your core as he can get it and you hope to whatever higher powers that be that he couldn’t feel the radiating heat or the damp spot that had soaked into your panties. 

“Okay, okay. I really do need to go now. My friends aren’t even here anymore and that’s saying something,” you chirp, suddenly very awake and aware that you’re in an almost empty bar with four men you’d only met that night. They all look at you like they’d rather eat sawdust than let you go and you feel a warmth creep over you. 

“Ahw, bonnie, we couldn’t let you go home on your own. Let us take you home,” Johnny chimes in, soft smile and kind eyes that hold a hint of something else in them. You swallow, looking between each of them. Your gaze lingers on Ghost for a while, noticing the man’s eyes had almost never left you.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s go. It’s not a far walk,” you reply, biting your lip at the reckless decision. These men could be serial killers and you were just inviting them to know exactly where you live. “Why don’t you let Johnny and Ghost take you home? Kyle and I can follow in our truck so they’re not stuck walking back here,” John offers, a warm smile curling up the thick mustache. 

At this point, you’re ready for bed and just want to get home. “Sounds good to me,” you reply though the words are manipulated by a yawn. All of you shuffle out of the round booth, both Kyle and John kissing the top of your head like they’d known you for years before disappearing out the door. You wrap your jacket around you again, pulling the zipper together over your belly and getting a little frustrated when it gets caught up on your shirt. 

“Lemme,” Ghost grumbled, stepping up to you and taking hold of the jammed zipper. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night and it almost stuns you how deep and growly it is. Your breath hitches as he grabs the zipper, yanking on it and subsequently making your breasts bounce as he accidentally pushes against them. He gets it undone and you mutter a bashful ‘thanks’ before turning on your heel as you finish zipping it up to your throat.

You know they’re meant to be escorting you home, but you’re out the door so fast the two men have to jog to catch up. Johnny’s arm wraps around your waist, fingers pressing into the pudge of your stomach in a way that makes you want to shrivel up. You don’t like anyone touching your stomach, but you’re warring with yourself on whether or not to move his hand, to show that kind of discomfort in front of these men. 

You choose to do so anyway, wrapping your fingers around his and lifting his arm up over your head and ducking under it, dropping it at his side. Johnny looks down at you with a furrowed brow. “Don’ like it when people touch you, do you?” he asks as he shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t look bothered that you’d removed his arm, but your anxiety rears its ugly head and makes you worried you’d offended him. 

“It’s not that I don’t like being touched. It-It’s…complicated. I-I don’t want to talk about it,” you manage to stammer out before picking up your speed. It’s not like you’re going to shake off your two guard dogs whose legs are easily longer than yours by several inches, but you take off anyways. 

When your building finally comes into view, you slow your pace and breathe a soft sigh of relief. Your bed was so close, just a few more yards and you could get rid of the guard dogs and curl up in bed. “Well, this is me. Thanks for bringing me home. I really appreciate it.” You were grateful that they’d walked you home. It wasn’t safe this time of night to be wandering around in this part of town. 

“We’re walking you to your door, bonnie. Wouldn’t want someone to snatch you up between here and there,” Johnny stated, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the scent of him, warm and tingly to the nose like oranges and nutmeg, but you shook your head and backed up to the door of your building. “There’s really no need. My neighbors are great.” Lie. Absolute fucking lie. Nestor at the end of the hall on the first floor would, no questions asked, rip you from the hallway if he saw you alone. A chill went down your spine and you conceded the moment you looked into Ghost’s eyes. You didn’t have a choice if they were escorting you all the way up. 

You turned and opened the door to the building, looking down the hall to make sure Nestor was in his apartment before slipping in and letting the boys in behind you. You headed to the elevator and punched the up arrow, biting your lip as you tried not to wither under the intense stare of the man in the mask. The elevator had been the selling point for you. It was the only place within your budget that had an elevator and you weren’t about to walk up five flights of stairs multiple times a day. 

The lift dinged and you stepped inside, Ghost and Johnny slipping in behind you just to stand with their bodies pressed against your back. Unintentionally, you leaned into them before your eyes widened at your own movement and you straightened so your body pulled away slightly.

The doors dinged and opened allowing you to step out onto your floor. You headed to your unit, digging for your keys in your purse. With a ‘aha!’, you pulled them out and shoved the key into the doorknob, unlocking it. “Would you guys like to come in? I might have some whiskey left?” you offer, turning to look at them. You didn’t know why you were inviting them in, but the sense of safety you had around them had you desperate for them to stay. 

“Sure, lemme text Price and Kyle where to come. Go on in, Si-Ghost. I’ll come in in a minute,” Johnny stated, already pulling his phone out and going to stand next to the window at the end of the hall. You opened the door and allowed Ghost in, leaving it unlocked so the others could join once they arrived. 

Heading into your kitchen, you stood up on your tippy toes, reaching up so you could pull out five of your good glasses. You were looking for the last one, but it was just out of your reach. Suddenly, you felt what could only be Ghost against your back, pressing you against the counter as he leaned over you to grab the glass. 

The heat of him against your back has your thighs clenching together while you watch his thick digits wrap around the glass and you wonder briefly what they’d feel like inside you. He takes a step back once he has the cup and holds it out to you. 

You turn back to him while trying to fight off the blush coloring your cheeks. You murmur a thanks and wrap your own fingers around the glass. 

Of course, that would be when the other three burst loudly through the door.

I wasn't intending for this to become a whole story, but it's really stuck with me over the last week or so.

<- Part Three Part Five ->

[obxsummer]

good things fall apart // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: post-pogue reunion calls for campfire conversations, more walking, and PhDs in thiefology. jj asks you about your wishes and a near mercenary encounter has you on the run again (to no surprise ever).

warnings: usual obx drama, nothing too exciting

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

--

“I think next time we take a trip, we should maybe plan ahead.”

John B’s obvious statement made you burst into laughter. The lot of you were crowding around the campfire that was still trucking along through the day and night, conversation flowing to pass the time as you tried to come up with a game plan on your next move.

You were settled against JJ’s chest, his legs caging you in on each side as you leaned into him. His arms hung loosely around your chest and his back pressed into a log that he and Pope had managed to roll up the dune and situate as a seating option for your temporary setup. Neither of you wanted to separate from the other for as long as you could, so you kept close. 

“We can stay in a hotel next time,” Sarah offered, smiling brightly at the idea. “Preferably one with a shower.”

Kie’s face turned up in disgust. “Oh yeah, I smell awful.”

“I smelled myself today,” John B grimaced in reaction. It was no secret you guys needed fresh clothes and a hot shower for sure.

“You’re not the only one who smelled you,” Sarah added, pinching the boy in his side as the group laughed with her.

Rhythmically, JJ’s fingers moved back and forth on your arm, the motion lulling you to sleep. “Hey, uh, you know what’s a good name for a baby? JJ.”

You rolled your eyes at his words but didn’t stop the small smile forming on your face. “The last thing we need are two of you running around.”

“What baby?” Cleo asked, eyeing you particularly. You shook your head slightly, letting your eyes drift to Sarah as a hint. 

The blonde girl was much more enthusiastic to share the news, having come to terms on her own with it. She reached out for John B, gripping his fingers with hers as realization fell across Pope’s face. “No freaking way.”

“A Poguelet?” Cleo asked with a huge smile on her face, sitting up in Pope’s arms as the couple descended into chaos.

“You?” Pope pointed at Sarah but he was staring at John B in shock. “You’re gonna be a freaking dad!”

Your brother’s arms went up in the air in celebration. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“A little baby!” Cleo scrambled out of Pope’s embrace to press her ear against Sarah’s stomach dramatically, like she would be able to hear anything. Her lips continued to move as she spoke into Sarah’s dress, promising that she would be the favorite aunt if she had anything to do with it. You laughed at the sight, snuggling closer into JJ who was happy to tighten his hold on you. 

“You’re so ill equipped for that!”

“I know, but it’s totally okay!”

“Congrats, holy shit!”

Your gaze moved slightly to the left where Rafe was lounging. It was hard to miss that he kept glancing over and it was even harder to admit that you kinda felt bad that he was finding out about Sarah’s pregnancy in this way. 

You couldn’t imagine if John B found out you were pregnant from an overheard conversation and not you directly telling him. Which, sore subject and all, but your opinion still stood. 

You sighed, biting your lip in consideration before shifting out of JJ’s warm grip. He looked up at you expectantly. “Be right back, okay?”

He nodded, accepting the small kiss you gave him before you stepped away from the group to sit in front of Rafe. Not too close, of course, but enough that only the two of you would hear. Your fingers tugged at your lip and you contemplated how to even begin the conversation. 

There was a lot more to your “relationship” with Rafe than the two of you even noticed. Despite all of the hard feelings and trauma, you were both broken souls that were laid bare to the other at some point in time. Rafe didn’t realize it, but he’d spilled more of his deepest darkest thoughts to you when you were at their house. He found comfort in that. And whether you realized it or not, you’d been at your lowest in his presence, even if he was part of the cause. 

“Um, thank you. For what you did earlier,” You started, your fingers picking at your shorts. “I’d probably be fish food if it wasn’t for you.”

Rafe glanced over at Sarah, a moment of silence passing before he answered. “Yeah, I uh, things might be different right now with me and Sarah but I didn’t want to stand by knowing I could’ve prevented that for someone else.”

The answer caught you off guard slightly. Rafe’s relationship with Sarah was not a good one, in any way, shape, or form. Maybe at one point it had been, but you’d yet to see it. It had only gotten worse since she’d returned with John B and when Rafe found out Ward had died, he’d been downright cruel to her. 

Sarah had done her best to talk to him, especially when Rose declined all of her calls and Wheezie’s number was suddenly no longer available. She was rightfully scared of Rafe and his unpredictable anger, which had ended most of their conversations before they even happened. 

“I can’t speak for her, but I think she would appreciate you trying to talk to her… in a calm manner,” You emphasized and looked at him pointedly. 

Rafe rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. “Yeah, well she should’ve thought about that before she let Dad die. She chose John B, that was her decision, not mine.”

You didn’t say anything, knowing it wasn’t your place to explain what happened in El Dorado. It wasn’t like Rafe would understand anyway, since he didn’t seem to listen to anyone but himself. You were trying. Despite the screaming feeling in your chest that wanted you to run, you were trying. If you didn’t make peace with what happened, it would continue to have a hold on you. Not saying Rafe deserved (or would receive) any forgiveness, but acceptance was part of the grieving process and you owed yourself freedom from it all. 

“Rafe, look at me.”

He nearly winced at the authority your tone held, the sound unfamiliar to him when it came from you. He looked up to see you staring at him with what he assumed was sympathy. You, sympathizing with him after all he’d done. 

“Your dad is not here anymore, and I know that’s hard to deal with. Trust me. But his hold over you, the way he manipulated you, it left with him. You don’t have to do anything for him. In fact, everything you do now, is for yourself. Just… think about that, okay?”

You didn’t leave room for conversation after that and returned to JJ, feeling much lighter than you had in a long time.

--

Sometimes, it felt like all you guys did was walk. Or run, you were always running from something, too. And you know what, it was getting really annoying. Crossing the dunes of Morocco wasn’t on your bucket list at all, and the beating sun wasn’t helping in the slightest. 

You were trying to keep a positive attitude, but man, today was not your day.

“Look, all is not lost. Like, we got a bead on Groff, and he can lead us to the crown. Happily ever after, right?” JJ theorized as the two of you walked hand in hand, your arms swinging slightly between you as the group followed in your footsteps. 

You nearly laughed, “Oh, someone woke up on the right side of the bed today, huh?”

JJ rolled his eyes, playfully pushing into your side and nearly knocking you over before he pulled back on your hand to keep you upright. A shocked gasp left your mouth as you lost your footing before he stabilized you again, a laugh bubbling from his throat.

“Asshole,” You joked, bumping your hip with his.

“Hey,” He whined in faux annoyance. “You love me.”

You paused in your walk to face him. “You’re so lucky I do.” Shifting on your toes, you kissed him slowly, ignoring the complaints from your friends as JJ flipped them off in response. It was hard not to dismiss everything that had happened in the past 48 hours when you were all here, together and alive, safe and sound.

As long as everyone made it out of this, you could keep moving forward, one step at a time.

--

The walk across the dunes continued for what felt like hours (and likely was), before civilization came into view. Essaouira, Pope explained, was a major port city for Morocco. The landscape was a crowded one, with building after building stacked next to the other. 

“What’s the plan here?” You asked, glancing back at your brother who was keeping Sarah close with her evident exhaustion. Everyone was dehydrated, sore, tired, and in need of a refresher. 

“We locate the wharf and find Groff, yeah? That’s all we gotta do,” JJ said as you guys walked through the tunnel that opened into the bustling town, people flooding in all directions. 

Your eyes widened at the surplus of individuals moving about and you turned to JJ to see his shocked expression. “That might be a little harder than we thought.”

Pope scoffed next to you, his expression unamused. “You think?”

JJ’s grip on your hand tightened before he took the step into the crowd and you reached your other hand back to grab ahold of Cleo’s, determined to keep the group together as you weaved your way through. 

It was overwhelming as the voices blended together, people shouting at you for money or items, hands grabbing on to your clothing before Cleo smacked them away with a disgruntled disapproval. 

“Babe, we gotta get out of here,” You huffed as someone else bumped into you causing you to stumble into JJ’s back. 

Pope must’ve overheard because he was suddenly taking the lead, JJ following in step with him to get out of the chaos to somewhere quieter. It didn’t take long before you found yourself staring up at a large statue of a man with a menacing sword, the stone carved with delicate details.

“Yo, that Murat,” Pope explained as everyone came to a stop. “The Barbary pirate. That’s the guy Groff was telling us about.”

“Holy shit,” John B mumbled as he looked up at the statue. “That’s him, the one who made the map to find the crown.”

“Which might be closer than we think. Let’s go.” JJ started following the path again which unfortunately was taking you all back into another crowded space. 

The heat was almost nauseating at this point and you hoped there would be a good opportunity to take a break here soon.

Apparently, Sarah was feeling the same way as John B eased her down on a nearby ledge. She was obviously pale and not feeling well. You separated from JJ as the group stopped walking and crouched next to the blonde girl. Your hands moved quickly to pull her hair off her neck and up into a bun, twisting a hair tie from your wrist to keep it out of her face. 

“Nauseous?” You asked with a knowing feeling. Nobody had really eaten a sustainable meal since you left Poguelandia, just snacks and bits of cooked fish that you’d caught. It wasn’t a surprise she didn’t feel good.

She barely nodded, letting out a deep breath and resting her head on the stone wall behind her. “Really nauseous.”

You looked at John B and almost laughed at the stress on his face. “Bee, she’s fine. Just needs some food and water, okay?”

John B nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“Everything okay?” Kie asked as she hovered over you. 

“No-”

“I’m fine,” Sarah spoke over John B’s reply, her stubborn attitude peeking out as she made eye contact with you. You gave her a reassuring nod, hand resting on her shoulder as John B’s fingers brushed through her hair.

Turning, you looked up at JJ. “She needs something to eat and water.”

“Good luck with that, we don’t have any money,” Pope commented before Cleo glared at him and smacked his shoulder in reprimand.

“Don’t be so negative,” She hissed at him before addressing you again. “We can do it the old fashioned way.”

“A little five finger discount?” JJ followed her idea, his fingers waving teasingly. “I got my PhD in Thiefology.”

You shook your head at him, not necessarily pleased with the idea but realizing there really was no other option. “Guys, please be careful okay? We’re not in the States and-”

You were cut off by a $100 bill being shoved in your face.

Blinking in shock, you looked up to see Rafe holding out the crisp bill with an unamused look on his face. When you didn’t move to grab it, he gave you a pointed look and waved it slightly. “Baby steps?”

You nodded slightly, unsure what caused his sudden change but appreciating it nonetheless. Shock wearing off, your fingers pinched the money gently and he pulled back, resuming his uninterested appearance and stepping away from the group. Sarah looked at you, confused, to which you could only shrug. 

You let out a deep breath and offered the money back to Pope. “Essentials, yeah? The more the better.”

Money in hand, Pope nodded and recruited JJ, Kie, and Cleo to come with him. 

“Just hurry up with whatever dumb shit you guys do, alright?” Rafe called as your brother joined the group heading into the market, leaving you with Sarah. Apparently his momentarily kindness was spent as he yelled at them. 

You gave him a sharp glare to which he raised his hands in surrender, walking away to entertain himself for the time being. With a sigh, you put your attention back on Sarah, who was already looking at you. “What?”

“Are you okay?” She asked with a knowing look on her face. “Talking to him?”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. It doesn’t help any of us if we’re tiptoeing around each other the whole time. So I tried to talk to him about it last night. Obviously, it didn't work fully but we’re getting there.” 

“Baby steps?” She repeated his words and you nodded.

Shrugging off your backpack, you tried to find any snacks within the mess of first aid supplies and JJ’s obnoxiously long charger cord (not that he needed that anymore, considering his phone was at the bottom of the ocean). Your fingers caught hold of a water bottle and you cracked it open for Sarah to drink.

She sipped slowly and closed her eyes to rest against the wall, her body finally beginning to cool off from the hike and beating sun. It didn’t take long before your group was back together, various food and clothing bundled in their hands.

Pope took your backpack to fill with the remainder of the items after passing them out, including some to Rafe who took them with a grunt of thanks. You bit into the fresh fruit aggressively, nearly devouring it in record timing.

Once everyone had eaten, you were moving again, weaving through the throngs of people in the direction of what you hoped would lead you to the wharf. 

“I think we lost Rafe,” Cleo commented as the group slowed and sure enough, the elder Cameron was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s fine, he’ll catch up,” Sarah dismissed with a wave of her hand, figuring if anything he left on his own with the intent of finding Groff without waiting on you all. “He probably has his passport, anyway. Better him than us.”

You nodded in agreement with her words, figuring Rafe would’ve prepared for this trip better than you all and considering he had a shit ton of money with him, he’d be fine. “Agree.”

“Where we going?” Kiara asked, her eyes falling on Cleo as she held the fresh clothes in her hands. She was itching to change and get the ruined fabric off her body. Plus, you all stood out like sore thumbs and switching outfits would help blend.

“Here.” John B waved you all over to an empty hut. “You guys go first, we’ll switch.”

You ducked inside with Cleo, Sarah, and Kie to change quickly before the boys swapped spots and you all continued on your journey to the wharf. The new attire was much more comfortable, and although still unfamiliar, you felt more in place than before. 

Eventually, you found yourself staring across hundreds of boats all packed in the tiny marine area. 

“Groff was on Hollis’s boat, so look for something fancy,” JJ offered as he scanned the vicinity for the familiar yacht. “I mean, it’s gotta be here. This is the only wharf in town.”

“I don’t know about no fancy boat, but that’s Terrance’s boat,” Cleo spoke up, her finger pointed across the way to one of the vessels that was docked. 

Pope wasn’t so convinced. “Are you sure?”

Cleo turned to him, unamused. “I grew up on that boat, man. I’d know that boat anywhere.”

“If his boat’s here, the Corsairs are here,” You added and crossed your arms over your chest. “Which also means Groff’s here.”

“And the one who killed Captain T.” Cleo smirked at the idea, her fingers already tracing the handle of her knife on her side.

“No lights, no motion. My vote is we go, see if we can use anything,” Kie said with a shrug.

You nodded in agreement and JJ took a step forward to move on before rushed disagreements fell from the others.

“No, wait. Not you. They know what you two look like,” Pope pointed to you as JJ stopped in his tracks. “Somebody else needs to go.”

“They know what half of us look like,” You countered. “Which leaves-”

“I’ll do it.”

You turned with wide eyes to Sarah, who’d spoken up. “What?”

She shrugged, confused by everyone’s reactions. “I’ll do it,” She repeated and rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, I can do things.”

“I believe you,” John B was quick to agree, though his tone said otherwise. 

“They don’t know what I look like. I’ll do it, I can do it.”

“I’m coming with you!” He called to the blonde girl before pointing at you as he started to walk. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckled as John B took off after her to catch up, mumbling to himself in the process. The rest of you quickly agreed to keep an eye out, you and JJ claiming the high ground (JJ copied Obi Wan, don’t you fret) which left Cleo, Pope, and Kie to monitor down below. 

“Not quite our dream vacation, huh?” You joked as you followed JJ up the path so you could gain a better view. 

JJ scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe. Warm weather, interesting views, an unfamiliar location. Sounds dreamy to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his wording. “Sure. Interesting views my ass. I love looking at stray animals and getting slammed into for trying to walk from Point A to Point B. And there’s no time for me and you.”

“Hey, rumour has it, if you find the Blue Crown, you get a wish,” He offered as you guys came to a stop up on a bridge. 

You leaned against the stone to face him with a smirk. “Oh, is that what they say now?” You asked, feigning your obliviousness. 

JJ shrugged, closing the gap between you with each step closer. “It’s the legend, after all,” He hummed, his thumb resting on your lip gently before he leaned down to kiss you. “I’ll wish for us to go on the best vacation ever, how ‘bout that? No interruptions… just me and my soon-to-be wife.”

The title made you shiver and you laughed quietly, eyes closing as you kissed him again with a satisfied hum. JJ’s fingers squeezed your sides gently as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. Your back dug into the stone behind you, not that you were paying attention in the slightest to it.

“Let’s hear it, pretty girl. What’s your wish?” He asked quietly, his eyes staring into yours with interest. 

You smiled at him and shook your head. “If I tell you, it’s not gonna come true.”

JJ forced a pout into his lip when you wouldn’t play along. “But I shared mine!”

Shaking your head, you kissed him again, nearly folding when he bit your lip gently. “You’d vote for a truck, babe. Suspension, LED, nice rims. All the bells and whistles.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter if you’re not going to be in the passenger seat.”

You tilted your head at him. “Who said my name won’t be stitched in the seat in the first place?”

The two of you were blissfully unaware of what was going on behind you until JJ’s eyes drifted for a split second and he caught sight of someone familiar. “Hey, that’s one of the Corsairs that kidnapped me and brought me on the ship.”

You frowned when you caught sight of the man he was referring to. JJ moved quickly, taking the spare pipe he’d found to bang on the cannon that was there for show, the noise echoing around you. Pope looked up, before knocking on the barrel with the ore Cleo had found for their use.

Their attempt at signaling John B and Sarah was interrupted by Arabic chanting across the space. Tilting your head in confusion, you looked over at JJ, who was clearly annoyed.

“It’s the call to prayer,” He answered your unspoken question. 

It didn’t settle right in your chest that you had no way of alerting John B and Sarah of the man’s presence and you definitely needed to act quickly to fix it. Pope and Cleo stared back at you before you groaned to yourself. Kie, however, had different plans and explained something to the duo near her before giving you a thumbs up.

“What’s she doing?” You asked the rhetorical question, watching as the curly haired girl maneuvered her way through the crowd and purposefully bumped into the mercenary you were watching. When her hand landed on his arm, your jaw dropped. “Oh, shit.”

“Flirting with danger, nice move Kie,” JJ spoke quietly, keeping his head ducked down slightly so he was harder to see. You lounged above, trying to act as subtle as possible while keeping a close eye on your friend. 

Noticing the call to prayer had ended, Pope grabbed the ore to bang against the empty barrel, the sound bouncing its way around the area and hopefully reaching John B and Sarah.

“There they are!” You said as you caught sight of the couple moving about on the boat. Kie started waving her arms wildly as the mercenary began to leave her, clearly not buying her distraction any longer. “Shit, J, let’s go!”

You darted down the path you’d taken up here, taking the turns as fast as you could to get to your brother faster. JJ apparently wasn’t satisfied with your speed and moved around you. “Be careful!”

“I know!”

You watched, horrified, as he grabbed another nearby ore and managed to collide with the mercenary, causing the gunshot to miss completely. JJ winced shortly after, his hand grabbing his side and you cursed yourself for not even thinking about fixing his injury when he’d showed up on the beach yesterday. 

“Kie!” You called out for your friend as you ran over to JJ who was scooping the discarded gun off the ground. Pope was heading in the direction of Sarah and John B, but Cleo was nowhere to be found. Kiara accepted your hug instantly, her hands shaking with adrenaline as the two of you caught up to JJ. 

The question of Cleo’s location was answered with a car horn as the girl came flying around the bend in an open air truck. You laughed at her timing, all of you meeting and practically falling into the car with zero coordination.

“How did you get this?” Pope asked as he flung into the seat next to her. 

“I stole it!”

A scream almost slipped out as she took off and you nearly fell into Kiara completely, the two of you trying to balance with the sharp motion. JJ was on your other side, yelling at Cleo to floor it as if she wasn’t speeding already. 

When you made it out of the crowded wharf area, you breathed a sigh of relief and moved forward to shove your head between your brother and Sarah. “You guys okay?” You asked, your hand squeezing the back of John B’s neck. You nearly gagged at the sweat on his skin and wiped your hand off on his shirt with a huff.

“We’re okay, we’re okay,” Sarah repeated as she tried to catch her own breath, her fingers tangled with John B’s on the seat between them.

Sliding back into your seat, you whistled at the events that just occurred. “This is only the beginning, y’all. Hope you’re ready.”

JJ laughed next to you, his arm coming to rest across your shoulders to pull you into his side so he could kiss your temple. 

“Let’s do this shit.”

--

a/n: sorry she's a lil short but we're goin into the craziness 🥴

navigation -- series masterlist

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[novaninjan]

A Next-Level Car Simulation Open World Game

Wheel Wizards is hailed as the most realistic car simulation game on Android, offering an unparalleled driving experience. The game features breathtaking graphics that bring every detail of the cars and environments to life, making you feel like you're truly behind the wheel.

[motorsportverso]

Federação Alemã de automobilismo anuncia Line-up para o Fia Motorsports Games

A federação Alemã de automobilismo anunciou os representantes da edição de 2024;Rally 2 Tarmac: Björn Satorius / Jenny Lerch(Ford Fiesta Rally 2); Rally 4 Cup: Timo Schulz (Opel Corsa Rally 4),Rally 4 Gravel: René Noller(Opel Corsa Rally 4), Históric Rally: Björn Satorius / Jenny Lerch(Volvo 242 Turbo ou Saab 99) , GT Sprint: Finn Wiebelhaus / Hubert Haupt(Mercedes AMG GT3), GT Relay: Finn Wiebelhaus(Mercedes AMG GT3),Drift: Jan-Eric Seeber(Nissan 350z), Auto Slalon: Claire Schönborn / Markus Firsching, Truck Racing: Jochen Hahn(Iveco), Kart Mini: Amelie Heuwers, Kart Sprint Senior: Elia Luis Weiss;Kart Sprint Jr: Arjen Kräling;Kart Endurance: Janina Schall / Moritz Groll / Leon Ehleider;Esports GT: Niklas Houben; Esports F4: Moritz Löhner; Kart Slalon: Louis Stange / Maja Braun.

[rootedinrevisions]

One of Them Girls

SUMMARY: After a long day of Tornado chasing, Tyler Owens and his crew head to a local bar to unwind. At the end of the bar sits a woman who sparks Tyler's interest. Despite her initial reluctance, Tyler's persistence leads to a playful evening of banter, pool games, and dancing. As the night progresses, the barriers between them begin to fall. INSPIRED AND LOOSELY BASED ON THE SONG "ONE OF THEM GIRLS" BY LEE BRICE.

You were sitting on the patio of the local bar, enjoying the evening air and the company of your friends, when the sound of a truck engine caught your attention. Turning your head, you saw a red Dodge pickup truck pull into the parking lot, its exterior covered in gear and storm-chasing equipment. The truck's driver, a familiar face.

It was Tyler Owens, the charismatic storm chaser who had dubbed himself the Tornado Wrangler with over a million followers on his YouTube channel. You'd seen his videos, filled with thrilling footage of him chasing down tornadoes and navigating wild weather. He exuded confidence and energy, and he clearly thrived on the attention.

Behind him, an older RV rolled up, its loudspeaker system blaring country music that added to the lively ambiance of the bar. The driver honked the horn, grabbing the attention of everyone on the patio. Conversations paused around you, and heads turned to watch the crew make their entrance. It wasn't every day that a storm-chasing team rolled into town, and the buzz of excitement in the air was contagious.

You watched as Tyler got out of his truck, a crowd of excited fans already gathering around him. The man who appeared to be the cameraman of the operation jumped out of the passenger seat and ran around the front of the truck just as Tyler exited. Tyler opened the driver's door and stood up, bracing himself with one hand on the bars surrounding the truck and raising the other hand in the air to acknowledge his fans. A bright white smile spread across his face as he placed a cowboy hat on top of his head.

"Hey T, tell the folks how you're feeling?" The cameraman, Boone, called out, pointing the camera at Tyler.

Tyler looked directly at the camera and said "I'm feeling pretty good, Boone." He then turned to the crowd, his energy infectious, and called out his catchphrase, "And if you feel it..." he paused, letting the crowd finish the line with a loud, "Chase it!"

Tyler, clearly enjoying the moment, amped up the crowd even more. "I said if you feel it, chase it!" The crowd responded with even more enthusiasm, their voices echoing around the patio.

"Oh, it was a beautiful day," Tyler declared, his smile widening as the cameraman stopped recording. With that, Tyler and his crew began to make their way into the bar, being slowed by fans trying to get an autograph or picture with Tyler.

Back inside the bar, you and your friends had returned to your usual spot at the end of the bar. It had been five or ten minutes since Tyler's crew had pulled up, and they were just now making their way inside after taking photos and signing autographs. You were mindlessly peeling the label off your Bud Light bottle as your friend talked about her most recent breakup. Though you nodded occasionally, your mind began to wander, tuning out the conversation.

Your gaze drifted across the room, landing on Tyler as he made his way towards the bar. You took in his appearance, noting every detail. His dirty and worn boots and his blue Wrangler jeans fit better than should be legal. His button-up shirt was damp from a day spent in the rain, clinging to his frame in a way that only accentuated his rugged charm. The signature cowboy hat atop his head and that ever-present beautiful smile completed the picture.

As you continued to watch, Tyler's eyes met yours from where he stood about halfway down the bar. His grin widened slightly, and he shot you a playful wink. You raised an eyebrow, unfazed, and turned back to your beer bottle, peeling the label with renewed focus. One of your friends, having caught the exchange, nudged you with a teasing grin.

"Really? Not even a blush for THE Tyler Owens?" she whispered, loud enough for your little group to hear.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "He's just a guy, right?" you replied, playing it cool despite the flutter in your chest.

Your friend's eyes widened in disbelief. "Just a guy? Have you seen his YouTube channel? He's a legend!"

"A legend for making jeans look that good," another one of your friends added.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Legend or not, he's still just a guy."

Your friends laughed, and the conversation continued, but you couldn't help sneaking another glance at Tyler, wondering if he was used to getting such a non-reaction.

About half an hour had passed since Tyler and his crew had settled into the bar. You were perched on a bar stool, peeling the label off your second Bud Light bottle of the night. Your friends had migrated over to the jukebox, dancing on the makeshift dance floor the bar owners had put together, leaving you alone at the bar.

You glanced up and saw Tyler walking towards you, that ever-present grin on his face. He approached casually, stopping in front of the stool next to you. "Is anyone sitting here?" he asked, his tone light.

Tyler took a seat, his charm turned up to the full volume. "I'm Tyler," he said, as if you didn't already know.

You played along, giving him a slight smile. "Nice to meet you, Tyler. I'm (Your Name)."

"It's a pleasure to meet a real-life angel," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

You laughed out loud, rolling your eyes. "Wow, that's original."

He chuckled, unphased by your reaction. "Can I get you to dance with me?" he asked, nodding towards the dance floor.

You shook your head immediately. "No, thanks."

Tyler leaned back slightly, still smiling. "Come on, just one dance."

"Nope," you replied, your voice firm but still amused.

He tried one last time, his persistence evident but not overbearing. "Are you sure? I promise I won't step on your toes."

You shook your head again, and Tyler finally raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Maybe another time then," he said with a wink. "Enjoy your night, (Your Name)."

He stood up and headed back to where his friends were, leaving you with a curious mix of amusement and intrigue about the lengths he'd go to win you over.

As soon as Tyler walked away, your friends quickly made their way back to you, their faces lit with excitement and curiosity.

"So, what did he say?" One of them asked, practically bouncing on her toes. "What did he want?"

You took a sip of your beer, trying to play it cool. "He just wanted to chat and asked me to dance."

Your friends' eyes widened in shock. "He asked you to dance? And you said no?"

You nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Yep, I told him no."

They stared at you as if you'd just revealed you were a secret agent. "Are you serious? Tyler Owens? Most women would kill for a chance to dance with him!"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "He's just a guy, remember?"

Your friends shook their heads, laughing and exchanging incredulous looks. "You're unbelievable. But hey, at least you got his attention!"

You chuckled, enjoying the playful banter, and took another sip of your beer. Despite what you had said earlier, you were secretly hoping Tyler would make another move. Or at least try to.

You were leaning against the wall near the pool tables, watching your friends play a game. The bar's dim lighting cast a warm glow over the tables, creating a cozy yet competitive atmosphere. Tyler spotted you from across the room and made his way over, his grin still firmly in place.

"Hey," Tyler said as he approached.

"Hey Tyler," you said returning his smile.

"Looks like you aren't too busy, how about a game of pool?"

You glanced at the open table and raised an eyebrow at him. "Sure...but what's the wager?"

Tyler looked intrigued. "Wager?"

"Yeah," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. If I win, you pay for my next drink, whatever I want."

Tyler's grin widened. "And if I win?"

"You get that dance you were asking for earlier," you said with a smirk.

He extended his hand, and you shook on it. "Deal."

You started the game by playing the role of a novice, pretending not to know the rules or how to handle the cue stick. Tyler, ever confident, offered you the opportunity to break.

"Want to take the first shot?" Tyler asked with a grin.

You picked up the white cue ball and placed it in the center of the table. Looking over at Tyler, you asked, "Is this where it's supposed to go? I've only played once or twice."

Tyler's grin widened. "You're doing perfect so far. Just hit it towards the other balls with a good hit."

You took a deep breath and struck the cue ball. It cracked again the racked balls with a satisfying thud, scattering them across the table. Tyler's eyebrows shot up as he watched them spread, clearly impressed.

"Well, that was a good break," he admitted, though he assumed it was just a stroke of luck.

You lined up for your first shot, aiming carefully. As you sent one of the balls rolling smoothly into a pocket, you looked over at Tyler with a playful smile. "Am I doing this right?:

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. "You're not just doing it right - you're making me look bad."

With each shot, you continued to maneuver the balls with impressive skill, all the while maintaining your guise of a casual player. Tyler's initial confidence slowly gave way to a mix of admiration and mock frustration as he realized you were far more adept than you'd let on.

In the end, you won decisively, with a victorious smile on your face. Tyler threw up his hands in mock frustration."Alright, you got me. Guess I owe you a drink."

You laughed, returning the cue sticks to the rack. Tyler led you back towards the bar. "A man's nothing if not true to his word," he said guiding you to the counter.

He flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink for himself before turning to you, "And for the lady, what'll it be?"

You made your choice, and as Tyler paid for it, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of satisfaction. The playful banter and easy chemistry between you were quickly becoming one of the highlights of your night.

As the night wore on, the bar began to clear out. People slowly paid their tabs and headed home, leaving the once bustling room quieter and more intimate. The music had softened, creating a relaxed atmosphere that almost felt private.

All your friends had left by now. One of them had offered to stay so you wouldn't be alone, but you insisted she go home. "I'll let you know when I get home safe," you promised.

Before she left, she teased you, nudging you with a grin. "You better tell us if anything happens with Tyler!"

You rolled your eyes, amused. "He's just a guy, you know. And we are roommates, so you'd definitely find out if anything happened."

"Should I leave a blanket and pillow on the couch for him, then?" She teased before giving you a quick hug and making her way out of the bar.

Your attention shifted to Tyler, who was now alone at the bar. His crew had left, and he seemed to be enjoying a rare moment of solitude.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way over to him. As you approached, you asked, "Is anyone sitting here?" Gesturing to the stool next to him.

Tyler looked up, surprised by your move. "No, go ahead," he said, his smile returning as he gestured for you to take a seat.

You sat down next to him, feeling the subtle shift in the night's energy. The bar's quiet hum and the soft light made the moment feel unexpectedly intimate.

As you settled onto the stool next to Tyler, the soft lighting and the quiet hum of the bar created a cozy atmosphere.

"So, how were the storms today?" You asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

Tyler leaned back, taking a sip of his drink. "Eh, they were okay. Nothing too dramatic. No big tornadoes or close calls like the viewers love. Just a regular chase day."

You nodded, intrigued. "That's too bad. I guess those big moments are what makes the videos so exciting."

"Yeah, they definitely get the adrenaline pumping," Tyler agreed, his gaze shifting from the bar to you. "But enough about me. What's your story? What are you doing in a small town like this?"

You considered his question for a moment before answering. "Actually, this is where I grew up. I graduated a while ago and didn't really know what I wanted to do next, so I stayed on the farm to help my parents out while I figured things out."

"That sounds pretty grounded," Tyler said, his tone genuinely interested. "So, what's next for you? Any big plans?"

You shrugged. "I'm still figuring that out. For now, I'm just here, helping out."

Tyler nodded thoughtfully before turning the conversation back to himself. "And what about me? How did I end up wrangling tornadoes?"

"Yeah, I was curious about that," you said. "How did you get into storm chasing?"

Tyler's eyes lit up with a mix of nostalgia and passion. "Well, I've always loved storms. Ever since I was a kid, they fascinated me. But it wasn't until a few years ago, after a really bad close call during a bull ride, that I decided to make a change. That bull ride nearly ended my life, and I figured if I was going to be on the edge, I might as well do it in a way I love. So I put together a crew of close friends and started recording our chases, and one viral video led to another. Before I knew it, 'Tornado Wrangler' just stuck."

You listened, captivated by his story. "That's pretty amazing. It sounds like it's been quite the journey for you."

Tyler chuckled, a hint of humility in his voice. "Yeah, it's been a wild ride. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and soon you found yourself delving into more personal topics.

"So, do you have a girlfriend or anything?" you asked, trying to keep the tone light but curious.

Tyler let out a thoughtful sigh. "Not at the moment. I get a lot of attention from fans, but being on the road all the time makes it hard to really connect with anyone."

You nodded sympathetically. "That sounds rough. It must be hard to balance everything."

"Yeah, it's a challenge sometimes," Tyler agreed, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "What about you? Any interesting stories from your love life?"

You laughed softly, a hint of self-depreciation in your tone. "Oh, my love life - or lack thereof - is pretty sad, to be honest. It's hard to find anyone in a town this small, especially when you've known most of the guys your age since preschool."

Tyler raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? So you've never met anyone that you were interested in? That sounds like a tough situation."

"It is," you admitted with a shrug. "And I'm not exactly the type of girl guys usually choose first. I'm a little quiet and shy, and a lot of guys think I'm stubborn and hard to break through to."

Tyler chuckled softly. "I'm sure that's not entirely true. Everyone's got their own charm, even if it's not always obvious at first."

You smiled, appreciating his attempt to reassure you. "Thanks, Tyler. I guess we all have our own struggles."

"Definitely," Tyler agreed. "But it's nice to have someone to talk to who gets it."

The conversation continued, with both of you letting down your guards a bit more, enjoying the rare moment of honest connection amidst the bar's quiet backdrop.

The night was winding down, and the bar was now a quiet sanctuary with only a few patrons scattered around. The soft music playing created an almost magical atmosphere. You felt a sense of calm settle over you as you looked over at Tyler, who was leaning against the bar, eyes catching yours.

With a mix of anticipation and nerves, you softly said, "You know, I think I'd like to take you up on that dance," you said, surprising him with your decision.

Tyler's eyes widened, and a genuine smile spread across his face. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice laced with excitement.

You nodded, feeling a flutter of nerves and excitement. Tyler slid off his bar stool and extended his hand towards you. With a deep breath, you took his hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving you a look as if seeking confirmation. You returned the gesture with a gentle squeeze, letting him know you were comfortable with the contact.

Tyler led you towards the dance floor, his steps confident but gentle. As you reached the floor, he carefully placed one hand on yours and moved his other hand to your waist. The touch was light but firm, and he drew you closer, though your chests didn't quite touch yet.

The two of you began to sway side to side in time with the music, the silence between you punctuated only by the soft melody playing in the background. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

As the song moved into the second verse, Tyler's hand slid from your waist to your lower back. With a careful and deliberate motion, he pulled you gently into him, closing the distance until your chests were touching. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, and the rhythm of the music guided your movements.

You could feel the steady beat of his heart, and as you swayed together, the intimacy of the moment grew. Tyler's grip was tender yet secure, and you found yourself relaxing into his embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest as you both moved in sync.

The dance was slow and tender, each movement a soft conversation between your bodies. The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in a dance that spoke volumes without needing words.

As the dance continued, Tyler's touch grew more confident. His hand on your lower back slid up to your waist, and you instinctively wrapped both of your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. The move felt natural as if you were meant to be in this close embrace.

Tyler's hat, which had been perched atop his head, was suddenly tossed aside with a casual flick of his wrist. It landed somewhere out of sight, but you didn't notice. All your focus was on him and the closeness you shared. His forehead gently pressed against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. The sensation was intimate, his breath soft and warm against your skin.

The world around you seemed to dissolve as you both maintained this closeness. Tyler's eyes, now only inches from yours, were soft and focused. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours synchronized with the rhythm of the music, creating a soothing, rhythmic dance that was more than just physical.

The space between you was filled with unspoken words, a quiet intensity that neither of you needed to voice. Every subtle movement, every shift of his body, seemed to deepen the connection you both felt, making the dance a private exchange that was as much about the closeness and shared warmth as it was about the music.

As you swayed together, the intimacy between you deepened. Tyler's movements became slower, more deliberate, and he began to lean in just a little closer, his face coming nearer to yours. The moment felt charged, his intention clear as he seemed to be inching towards a kiss.

Your heart raced with anticipation, the closeness and warmth of his breath mixing with a subtle thrill of excitement. Tyler's lips were almost close enough to brush against yours when suddenly, the bartender's voice cut through the intimate silence.

"Last call, folks!" the bartender announced loudly. "Everyone needs to pay their tabs and head on out!"

The interruption was jarring, and Tyler halted his movement, his breath now mingling with yours in a mix of warmth and surprise. He straightened up, giving you a sheepish grin. "Well, I guess that's our cue," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

You both laughed softly, the tension of the moment dissipating as the reality of the bar closing in on you settled. Tyler gently released his hold on you, and you reluctantly began to move away from the dance floor, the spell of the moment broken but not forgotten.

As you made your way back to your barstool, you reached into your purse to retrieve your wallet, only to realize with a sinking feeling that your roommate must have grabbed your bag by mistake when she left earlier. You had hoped to settle your tab without any trouble, but now you faced the awkward situation of having the wrong purse.

You turned to the bartender, who had been a friendly face during your many visits. "Hey, I think I've got the wrong purse," you said, trying to hide your embarrassment. "Is there any chance I could come back tomorrow to pay for my tab?"

Before the bartender could respond, Tyler stepped in with a grin. "Hey, don't sweat it," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'll take care of it."

You started to protest, but Tyler gently cut you off. He slid his card across the bar and gestured to the bartender. "Put both tabs on this," he said with a wink.

The bartender raised an eyebrow but nodded, taking Tyler's card and beginning to process the payment. You looked at Tyler, a mix of gratitude and surprise in your eyes. "You really don't have to—"

Tyler just shrugged, his smile playful. "Consider it a token of appreciation for the dance. And hey, I owe you a drink, remember?"

You chuckled, touched by his gesture. You and Tyler stood outside the bar, the rain starting to pick up around you. You exchanged numbers with a smile, your fingers brushing against his as you typed in your contact details. He gave you a quick, friendly hug before pulling away, saying, "Goodnight," and heading towards his truck.

You watched him get into his truck, then pulled out your phone to call a taxi, only to realize you had no signal. You sighed, glancing around the deserted street, the dark and the rain making the thought of walking home less appealing. The house you shared with your roommate was only a ten-minute walk away, but the weather was less than ideal.

As you began to make your way towards the street, the sound of a horn blared through the night. You turned to see Tyler's truck pulling up beside you. He rolled down the window, his concerned eyes finding yours. "Hey, what are you doing out here?"

You explained the situation, your voice a mix of frustration and resignation. "My roommate took the car home, and I can't get any signal to call a ride. I was just going to walk—it's not far."

Tyler shook his head, a firm yet gentle tone in his voice. "No way. Get in, I'll give you a ride." His expression made it clear that he wasn't giving you a choice, and you knew better than to argue.

You climbed into the passenger seat, shivering from the cold rain that had soaked through your clothes. Tyler noticed and reached into the back seat, pulling out a hoodie. He offered it to you, but you started to decline.

"It's fine, really—" you began, but he cut you off, insisting as he pulled the hoodie over your head.

"Just put it on," he said gently but firmly, ensuring you were snug and warm. The hoodie smelled faintly of him, a comforting mix of cologne and the outdoors.

You settled into the seat, the warmth of the truck's interior a stark contrast to the chilly rain outside. Tyler glanced at you, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips as drove off into the night.

[alchemistc]

fascination with your presentation | bucktommy 1/1

read on ao3

Tommy likes to touch things. It's just a random quirk of his that Eddie's noticed - a hand sliding along the back of the couch as he follows Eddie into the kitchen to grab a beer, fingers balancing along the table as he leans, elbow pressing into the frame of the doorway like he's gauging the space between walls.

He's tactile - a smack to the space between his shoulders, fist bumps and high fives and teasing hair ruffles when he's got Eddie pinned in the middle of a spar and they both know Eddie isn't getting out of it.

It's nice. There aren't a lot of men, especially with their background, in their line of work, who are remotely comfortable expressing affection like that.

He's a fan.

Christopher is less so, when Tommy lays a big hand to the crown of his head and goes for a noogie. He huffs, rolls his eyes, rolls his head forward and away from the touch, makes some noise about a call he's supposed to make later that night and how he doesn't want his hair messed up for it, and Tommy holds his hands up in apology, fighting a grin as Chris smooths his hair back down.

Eddie's used to it already, so it takes him a second to really notice Tommy rounding the edge of the table to flick through papers and pictures and receipts tacked to the fridge as he digs through one of his drawers in search of the bottle opener he knows he has stashed in here somewhere. Eddie's more of a twist cap beer guy, but Tommy's oddly flavored fancy bottles always need an opener.

"Here," Tommy says, and Eddie turns just in time to catch the keys Tommy slings at him.

"I don't like your truck that much," Eddie tells him, which is a lie.

Tommy tips his head forward to indicate the keys. "Bottle opener, Diaz."

Which makes sense. He should get one for himself, actually. It's a little shocking neither one of them carries a utility knife on them. The preparedness rules maybe didn't stick after discharge as well as they could have

Tommy's gaze drifts, and Eddie watches his head tilt, ring and middle finger reaching up to tap at one of the pictures on the fridge. Chris and Buck, a few years back, some trip to the museum during either Buck or Chris' dinosaur phase. Buck's holding a giant stuffed pteranodon ("Pterodactyls were smaller and had cone-shaped teeth and backward-projecting crests, actually, and this isn't technically the most accurate depiction anyway, it's generally accepted they probably had feathers, now." -- So, definitely Buck's phase, now that he's remembering.) and Chris has a specific brand of smile across his face that Eddie has quietly dubbed his Buck-smile. Something around the edges of his eyes that's always just a little brighter for Buck.

"Cute picture," Tommy says, and Chris's eyes draw to it as Tommy taps his knuckles once-twice to it before dropping his hand to his side.

It's not the first time someone in this circle of three has brought up Buck.

The first night Tommy'd been here, camped out on the couch watching a game, Chris had had a million questions, and Buck had come up pretty naturally over the course of them comparing disasters they'd been a part of, or worked.

Chris had brought up the tsunami, which had led to a back and forth where they discovered Tommy had likely flown right over them at least once during that disaster of a day, and then it had evolved into Chris memorializing all of Buck's greatest (most traumatizing) hits - pinned under a fire engine, climbing a crane tower in the middle of a county wide panic about a shooter targeting firefighters (he doesn't bring up Eddie being shot, which - maybe they should revisit that at some point, make sure Chris isn't burying that), Buck getting struck by lightning, Buck taking charge in the bridge collapse.

And obviously, if Chris was gonna debate Star Wars, he was gonna bring up Buck's involved opinions on Machete order and OG vs Prequels vs the Somehow Palpatine Returned era, and be delighted that Tommy's opinion differed from Buck's, because that made Chris the victor in that ongoing battle.

Buck is a big part of Chris and Eddie's lives, so he's gonna be dropped into conversation. Nothing strange about that.

Tommy always calls him Evan, which is a big old dose of whiplash every time, and he can't think why he does that, because despite Buck introducing himself (weirdly) as Buh-Evan Buckley, they've seen each other since, and no one else Tommy talks to calls him Evan, so he doesn't know why Buck hasn't corrected him.

Chris' mouth does something strange as Tommy keeps looking at the picture, his expression going a little curious in a way Eddie can't quite parse, and then he's grinning. There's no reason to be suspicious, except for the way he actually puts down his phone to engage with Tommy as Eddie passes a beer off.

"Yeah, Buck always takes me to exhibits every time there's a new one. He's cool like that."

Tommy hums around his first sip, expression placid, posture relaxed. "Maybe I could take you to the next one."

Christopher's eyes narrow.

Eddie's lost.

"Uh, not without Buck. Carla took me once without him and he pretended to be fine about it for weeks until I asked him to take me again. He was not happy we went without him. But you could come with us."

Tommy tap-tap-taps his finger against the rim of his bottle, unfazed by the slightly territorial way Chris had phrased it. Eddie's fazed. Eddie is not sure there's not a second layer to this conversation he's missing. "I'll look it up. Jot it down in my day book."

Christopher is too young to have a clue what that means, but he doesn't seem to be quite done with whatever the hell it is he's got going on right now. "Good," he says. "Buck's single right now, so he's got a lot of extra time for stuff."

Tommy's gaze flits to Christopher's, and Eddie doesn't have a fucking clue what's going on, but it's a weighted look for half a second before Chris' gaze turns back to his phone.

"You have his number, right? Maybe you should call him and figure out a day we can all go."

Something happens around the corners of Tommy's mouth that he hides by tipping the bottle mouth against his lips again. "Yeah. I've got his number."

For a second Eddie wonders why, before he remembers catching Buck down at Harbor before the fight. When had Buck gotten his number?

"Cool," says Chris, eyes already glued back to his phone. "We usually get lunch first. Buck really likes pizza."

"Everyone likes pizza," Tommy says, eyes glimmering with mirth that Eddie absolutely does not know the source of.

"Yeah, but Buck's picky about it. He says there's a perfect pizza to crust ratio that most places don't get right. Also he likes it when they have a stone oven, and the little pizza risers."

Tommy rolls his tongue over his teeth. And - why is Eddie watching this interaction so carefully? It's not like he's worried Tommy's gonna say something weird to his kid, even if his kid is being weird.

"I'm gonna go throw the game on. You hungry?"

Tommy's eyes shift to meet his, and Eddie feels that same frisson of excitement he gets sometimes when Buck is paying close attention to him. "I could eat. Not pizza though. There's nowhere around here with a good stone oven."

"Dad likes pineapple on his pizza, his pizza opinions suck."

Eddie tosses his hands up. This is an old argument, one created entirely by Buck because Chris hadn't minded a good Canadian pizza before Buck declared war on them. "Pizza's just pizza. I was thinking Chinese, anyway."

"Can we get those spring rolls Buck always gets?"

Tommy's gaze slips to the fridge one more time, eyes drifting across the picture he'd pointed out earlier, before he unclips the menu for the Chinese place down the street from its spot half-covering the calendar to hand it off to Eddie. He spots the circle around their plans for Thursday and reaches out to touch the date.

"You invite anyone else for Thursday?"

Eddie rolls his top lip over his bottom one. "Buck hates basketball, turns me down every time I ask. I might ask Chim, though, he and his brother always liked to play."

Literally nothing in Tommy's expression changes, but Eddie feels like he's reacting to something in that sentence anyway. He's trying to figure out how to cut the weird tension in the room when Christopher starts listing off his order, and he's so distracted by trying to get a list prepared to call that he misses two thirds of Chris and Tommy's continued conversation, which is somehow, for some reason, still about Buck. Geez, is Chris pissed that Eddie's got a new friend? He should invite Buck next time he makes plans to hang out at home with Tommy.

----

"It was a date," Buck tells him, a week and a half later, while Eddie's staring at his phone like looking hard enough might make it, and his relationship with Marisol, maybe disappear. Just for a little while, while he squares things up with God.

Eddie tosses his phone, turns to look at Buck in the second before it computes, manages to pull back just enough so that it's not a full, ridiculous double take.

"When you and Marisol ran into me and Tommy, we were on a date."

"Really?" Buck usually tells him the second he's interested in someone, because for some reason he thinks Eddie has any idea how to have a loving, lasting relationship, even though Eddie's been lobbing live grenades straight at love since he was fourteen. He hadn't said a word to Eddie about -

Well.

Well actually --

Well shit.

Oh, he's definitely giving Tommy and Christopher both shit about this later.

"Wait, Tommy's gay?"

A whole host of things are suddenly lining up -- Buck at Harbor the afternoon before the fight, and Buck asking half a million questions after the fight, and Buck and Tommy both picking at the thread of Christopher's praises for the other, and -- Buck had been jealous. Buck had been jealous of Eddie spending time with Tommy. Buck had shoulder checked him to the court and sprained his ankle because he liked the guy enough to lose his head about it.

Oh, he's gonna hold this over all of their heads for sure.

Which for the moment is apparently not that great an idea because Tommy'd pressed pause after one date, which is fast even for Buck. He tells him so.

"When we ran into you guys I kinda made an idiot of myself and he said he doesn't think I'm ready." Buck looks -- sad. Disappointed. Nervous, hands rubbing at his thighs like he's soothing himself. It's a fair point, on Tommy's part, even if he doesn't know all the details.

(Something about hot chicks pings in the back of his mind, but he shelves it for later.)

Buck's never really hinted at romantic inclinations in that direction, although some of his comments about good looking guys are making a little more sense, in retrospect.

"What do you think?" Eddie's pretty sure he knows the answer to this question, but he asks anyway, because Buck likes to work these things out. He likes to talk about them. Eddie imagines not being able to articulate exactly what he was feeling without wondering if his friends would think it was weird probably (definitely) contributed to his wildly dramatic behavior the last few weeks.

Geez, Tia Pepa would be eating this telenovela shit up.

"I kinda can't stop thinking about him," Buck tells him, and it's a voice Eddie's not entirely sure he's ever heard from Buck before -- at least when he's talking about someone he's into. Buck's always got a checklist and a trillion rationalizations. Now he just sounds... smitten.

And Tommy is too, Eddie thinks. He is absolutely gonna call him out for pumping his kid for information. Maybe accuse him of only befriending him to get to Buck -- see if he can make the unflappable Tommy Kinard flap, a little.

"You should call him," Eddie tells him, already imagining double dates with a partner of Buck's he doesn't hope will spontaneously combust in the middle of dinner. Maybe between Tommy, Chris and Eddie they can finally convince Buck to go to one of the car shows he's always rolling his eyes at. Maybe Tommy and his terribly hidden romantic side can actually match Buck's crazy.

Eddie hugs Buck on his way out the door and feels the tension drain from his shoulders.

Maybe touched starved Buck will get to enjoy that little tactile quirk of Tommy's, too.