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#and paul with spiky hair because that’s a big part of my life
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I was tagged by @joestrummershowl to describe myself with 9 images without downloading anything!
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This was fun! I quite like fashion, photography and 90s movies, so I included a little of that! The gif is from a movie called The Craft! And of course a cowboy meme, because they are the greatest.
I tag: @leftiesoftie @chadbot01 @breadpunk7 @dailybromeo @groovietimes @libertineangel
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its-monster-mash · 3 years
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Paul(The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine(Part 1)
Content Warnings: Vaguely Love-Triangley? (Reader and Michael are still good friends and broke up a while before Mike moved, but things are a little awkward because they were each other’s first serious relationship; so he’s more protective than he needs to be, and there might be a few hurt feelings, but I wouldn’t quite call it a love triangle), Brief Sexual Harassment
Part 2
This turned out SUPER long so I’m putting it under a readmore; also I think I’m going to make it a series because I want to go a lot further with this but I suspect I’m going to run out of space soon
• Michael Emerson had been your best friend since you were kids, growing up in Phoenix only a ten minute walk from eachother...if you knew the right shortcuts. You knew all of them, thought you knew everything when you were younger, and you got yourself and Mike into a fair amount of trouble because of it...but he had always been a good kid, and was able to temper your more destructive elements.
• It surprised exactly no one when the two of you eventually started dating, nor did it surprise them when you broke up a few years later. You had always been inseparable, and the love had always been there, but over time you just couldn’t help but feel stifled. You had spent your entire teen years with him, and so many people liked to joke that Mike tamed you...at the rate you were going it seemed like sundresses, picket fences, and a couple of kids weren’t far off in your future...and that scared you.
• Mike was heartbroken when you left him, and for the first few weeks he absolutely held it against you, but due to your shared friends and history your friendship survived. Unfortunately, his parents’ divorce separated your iconic duo once again.
• When Mike’s dad showed up on your doorstep a few days after the move, you tore him a new one for basically abandoning his sons. He set a box on your porch, Mike’s Tools...his Grandpa gave them to him when he was just a little kid and they were one of his most treasured possessions...they were forgotten in the chaos of the move...His dad thought you might visit him sometime...
• That’s what led to you hopping in your shitass El Camino and making the drive to Santa Carla. Lucy had given you their new address before they left...you knew she hoped that maybe you and Mike would get back together some day, but that just wasn’t in the cards. At the end of the day he was just too good, too normal, for you.
• Driving through Santa Carla, you can’t help but be drawn to the sheer...strangeness of it all. Looking at the people, you feel like you actually fit in here. You definitely plan on hanging around the town for a while.
• Mike isn’t home when you get to his Grandpa’s house, but his mom could not be happier to see you. It’s a bittersweet reunion for you; she had been more of a mother to you growing up than your own parents, but after breaking her son’s heart you just don’t feel like it‘s right for you to call her “Mom” like you used to. She has a million questions, and she even suggests you stay with them for a while...you politely decline.
• You didn’t tell her that sleeping in your beat-up old car was preferable to her hospitality, but it would just be too weird, with how recent your breakup was. You and Mike are still friends, but you think sleeping under the same roof might be weird for him
• You still want to see him though, so you decide to explore the town on foot for a while; maybe run into him. You’re wandering around when you hear a familiar voice coming from the open door of a comic book store.
• As soon as you walk in you see the unmistakably garish patterns of Sammy Emerson’s signature style and break into a wide smile. “Long time no see, huh kid?” Almost the second he sees you he practically knocks you over with a hug, backing away in embarrassment after a second of thought. You and Mike were already best friends by the time he was born, so Sam was almost as much your little brother as he is Mike’s.
• “Now What was that about Vampires?” You had overheard Sam and the Frog brothers when you walked into the store...Sam rolls his eyes, and the Frogs assail you with some insane story about how the town is overrun with vampires. Some imaginations these kids have.
• You bail out of there pretty quick in favor of wandering the boardwalk, seeing what Santa Carla had to offer...before you know it, the sun is starting to set
• Maybe going out alone in “The Murder Capital of The World” wasn’t your smartest decision, but you weren’t exactly known for your self preservation; that had always been Mike’s job...but he isn’t here now.
• You grimace as you notice a group of surfers take notice of you. You had wandered a bit aways from the main crowd, so you aren’t sure anyone would notice if things went south... “Hey Sweetie.”
• “Get Bent.” You sneer as they close in on you. “Awe well that’s not very polite,” the leader says, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “You should try being a little nicer.”
• You humor him with the sweetest smile you can muster as you stomp as hard as you can on his foot. He calls you a bitch and you flinch as his fist flies toward you.
• You open your eyes when the hit never comes, and are shocked to see that someone had caught the guy’s fist. You look up at him and your cheeks flush; when was the last time you saw a guy this handsome? “This guy bothering you, babe?” He asks as he squeezes the guy’s fist so tight you hear something pop. The guy falls to his knees and gasps in pain as his friends back away nervously. You smile wickedly. “Not anymore.”
• You watch the douchbags storm away with their wounded pride, shouting empty threats, only distracted when your Knight in Shining Tight-Pants tucks your hair affectionately behind your ear. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a town like this?”
• You bite your lip, eyeing him appreciatively; now that you could get a good look at him you can tell he is definitely your type...and you hadn’t been with anyone since you broke things off with Michael. “Hoping to run into an old friend, but I haven’t seen him.”
• He grins, clearly appreciating your look. “That’s too bad, wanna make some new friends?” His eyes are fixed on you with a certain hunger, there’s a palpable danger to him; it excites you.
• You shift your stance flirtatiously, leaning into him ever so slightly. “That depends, are they all as cute as you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek with an amused grin. “Almost.”
• He takes your mischievous smirk as agreement, and throws an arm around you, leading you back to where his friends are gathered by their bikes. “This the chick you ditched us for?” The curly-headed blond asks, humor in his tone.
• “Well I for one am grateful for the timely rescue.” You grin. “How grateful?” The blond on the bike asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively; making you laugh. Your hero slaps at him playfully, and the favor is returned.
• Seemingly the leader of the group, the spiky-headed blond interrupts the roughhousing. “Paul, Marko, knock it off and let’s go.”
• Paul nods, climbing onto his bike and grinning at you seductively. “You wanna go for a ride, babe?”
• His smile is infectious, and his innuendo isn’t lost on you. Maybe it’s not your safest decision, but you climb on the back of his bike; earning a loud “HELL YES.” From him, and hooting and hollering from Marko.
• “Make sure you hold on tight babe, I’m about to take you on a ride you’ll never forget.” “Shut up and drive,” you tease as you wrap your arms tightly around his midsection.
• They all laugh deviously as they rev their motors to life, and you’re glad you’re holding on tight, nearly falling off when they take off from 0 to 100. “HOLY SHIT!” “What’s the matter sweetheart, can’t handle a little speed?”
• “That all you got?!” You ask, acting tough. It was a mistake though. “That all you got, Paul?” Marko asks, mocking you. “I dunno girl, I think that’s all he’s got.” The big brunette says, first time he’s spoken since you met the boys. “Fuck off, Dwayne!” Paul shouts. The leader gives his engine a rev, egging Paul on. You scream, forced to cling tightly to his back as his bike tears into the night. Marko pulls up next to you, mimicking you with a falsetto squeal.
• “Damn babe, already screaming for me,” Paul teases over the roar of his motor. You’d sass him back if you weren’t too busy burying your face in his back for dear life. You’d ridden on the back of Mike’s bike plenty of times before, but he was never this reckless. You’re as terrified as you are thrilled.
• By the time you start to get used to the speed, the boys are slowing down, and much to your surprise, they pull right up to Michael, who is standing with a girl you haven’t met. His eyes snap to you instantly and go wide with confusion, he hadn’t even been aware you’d come to town. “(Y/N)?”
• “This that friend you were looking for?” Paul asks. “Yeah, (Y/N), care to introduce us to Star’s new friend?” “David please.” You watch the exchange a bit uncomfortably, shifting on the bike, arms still around Paul. “Yeah...Hey Mike, I uh, your old man dropped your tools off at my place so I took them up to your mom.” Your chest feels impossibly tight. You aren’t jealous to see him with a new girl, but you had hoped that maybe he’d be a little happier to see you here...and him, the earring and that jacket...it doesn’t feel like Mike at all. Paul can feel you shrink against him.
• “Hope I’m not stepping on any toes here,” Paul says, giving your thigh an unsubtle squeeze; deliberately antagonizing Michael. You smile a bit awkwardly as Mike scratches the back of his head in discomfort. Star looks between the two of you, avoiding eye contact with David. “No, Mike and I used to date but...” “But it’s over,” Mike says, a bit too shortly, trying to cover the awkwardness with an unconvincing smile.
• David shoots him a not-all together-friendly look. “Well, you seem to be moving on well enough,” he says, gesturing to Star, who shrinks beside him. “So’s (Y/N),” Paul interjects, looking over his shoulder to smile at you. You smile back at him, despite the awkwardness.
• “We should go, Star,” David urges. Star hesitates, but climbs on the back of his bike. Michael looks mortified, and you can’t help but feel awful for him. You’re shocked when David nods his head toward Mike’s bike. “Come with us, Michael.”
• You know the look on Mike’s face; his first instinct is to back out, avoid trouble...but then he looks at you, and he looks at Star; like he’s worried what will happen to you if he doesn’t come along. “Mike,” You don’t have to come, you start to say, feeling Paul tense in your arms. “I’m coming.”
• “This is gonna be so sick,” Marko says with a practically manic grin, before Dwayne swats him upside the head. “Don’t be an ass.”
• “Don’t forget, (Y/N), hold on tight,” Paul says, side eyeing Michael a little less than subtly. Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug apologetically. This is awkward, for sure, but one way or another you want to see this through. Paul and the boys seem cool as hell, and at the very least seem like a good way to get back on the horse after getting over a long relationship.
• You squeeze Paul a little tighter, heart pounding against his back. He revs his engine. “You ready, babe?”
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familyvisionis2020 · 4 years
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Day 5 - Huntsville
Jeremy’s up the earliest and sends a text to us that he’s getting breakfast with Noah at a place called the Grit. Rather than opt to join I just post up on the porch with Trey and indulge in a long long blog post.The weather is cooler and grayer, joggers and dog-walkers and kids on bikes roll down the streets, slow syrupy sunday morning, humidity and gristle, butter pats wouldn’t melt if you left them out on your plate but they wouldn’t be too taut to sink your teeth into. I feel a fundamental sense of repair from typing, reviving a column of spirit I’d quietly suffocated, knock loose a clot of rust in my clockwork and the machinery is humming along again. Now that I have the link to the blog to share to people I feel like I’m gingerly handing the missing puzzle piece to my patrons and well-wishers and companions, indulging a curiosity and rounding something out to myself that might prove the regard and sensitivity my quietness can bely, might be a kindness or a service to people who find me austere or impenetrable or bristly. I was staring at a picture of a cactus and identifying with it the other day, tall, two arms, tiny head, spiky, full of water, not so bad if you’re careful with them, just like me. 
Later tonight I will watch Tired Frontier play the last set of their tiny tour with us and what will end up being our last show of the tour as well. Watching the face of the guys I see things so so different then when I saw them for the first time, when they were complete strangers, tourmates but sight unseen. What I saw in their faces the first time I saw them play: Royal is tall and broad-shouldered and country and active and maybe a little sloppy and expanive and reminds me a ton of my friend Mike, so I have love for him off the bat, also his weird tuning and rococo pedal board setup and heedless mustache and you know, wife, set off little clockworks of insecurity in me and my mind props up baseless criticisms of him sourced solely from my ignorance of him. After three shows we are not friends but I know him much better, have seen him from more angles, have a better sense of him, he loves doing bits and laughs high and loud and chills endlessly, in this way he matches the tone and cadence of Kabir magnificently. Paul is beautiful and has a face like a svelter Jim Carrey and kneads the keyboard effortlessly, digital dough, his fingers are narrow and elegant and move only enough to play the next keys, the same sort of parsimony of motion I used to see from chefs with expert knife skills. I envy his bouny raven thick-sable hair. Trey looks plainly joyful when he plays drums. He extends his crash cymbal hardware to the maximum length so his crash is preposterously high up. I can’t discern a reason other than it’s kind of fun or different. He’s enthusiastic about my writing, I get to share him some other work I’ve done, he says he loves it, I swell with gratitude and we exchange emails.
The morning in Athens goes more or less like the morning before: me and Kabir and John and Paul all go get breakfast at Donderos’ again, drink tea and coffee, pack up our stuff. We take some group photos with both bands outside on the porch with the orbs and they’re cute and silly. Kabir flipped a coin to decide whether me or John drives the next stretch, it’s me, I’m a little apprehensive because I haven’t driven a 15-passenger van in awhile, but once I’m in it’s like riding a bike, I have muscle memory of driving big vehicles from U-Haul trips and, before that, the box truck I drove to transport food donations to the pantry of the Servant Center in Greensboro. I’m a good driver, I check my mirrors, I put on a halloween mix I made in 2015 and I am feeling myself, focused, caffienated, surrounded by friends, there’s some clouds in the sky and drizzles but it’s not bad and we’re making good time. The boys just listen along with me to the DJ mix for awhile then start up a new crossword puzzle and we all 4 do it collaboratively, one person describing the clue, letters, cross-clues, and we brainstorm for answers, between the four of us we’re really good at this, and we’re all laughing and in great spirits as we methodically complete the puzzle. We stop in Marietta Georgia at one point to use the bathroom, we stop at a KFC with a 20-foot mechanized/animatronic chicken head whose eyes roll back in its head and whose giant beak opens and closes in regular time like a campy pendulum. I buy a postcard and a souveneir cup from here because I think my Mom has family from Marietta Georgia but when we’re back in the car I can’t remember if it’s Marietta Georgia or Marietta Ohio, but I figure it will be well-received either way. We get back on the road and now we’re off the highway and onto some more remote state routes and we pass into Alabama and the rain lets up but its still overcast so the light is gentle and diffuse, the hills are rolling, we pass a colony of tiny homes, weird, livestock, bulls with giant horns that when I see them I just say ‘aurochs’ absent mindedly, livestock and cotton fields and when we see police someone will just say ‘ops’ and the whole drive everyone is just in a good mood, making jokes, kind and breezy. I marvel at how these boys do not seem to carry the same sort of darkness I feel I do, or maybe they just don’t wear it on their sleeves, or maybe none of them are neurodivergent or addicted or traumatized, or maybe they are but hide it well, or have coped and healed…something I’m used to is being around people who require a space to talk about extremely serious and heavy and heartbraking things. Maybe it’s a vestige of a lifestyle I’ve left behind. In all the time I’ve spent with Kabir and Jeremy and John and David (our NC bassist who plays home shows when Jeremy is in NY), I’ve never seen anyone come close to losing their temper, yelling, crying, crumbling, whatever. I marvel at the putative stability of my friends. I like having stable friends, I like having a stable life, it’s not how my life has always been. There is a level of tranquility and calm that washes over me while I’m driving through rural Alabama with my stable friends in a well-maintained van in my healthy body wrapped around a heart that is not broken and a mind that feels as clear and capable as it has ever been. Grace is unearned, I’m told.
We make it to Huntsville on time, the venue is called the Salty Nut, kind of a spacious and tidy bar with a kind bartender my height but with a double thick country accent and the show booker is slight and soft spoken and exceedingly kind, he receives us and then points us in the direction of a nearby restaurant called Banditos Burritos. The restaurant is festooned with vaguely southwestern or hispanic decorations and also random camp like a dirty 1990s Bart Simpson doll, a ruined acoustic guitar, a King Khan poster, a garden gnome on an old-fashioned scale with the sliding thing, a skateboard without trucks painted with a sleeping cactus person wearing a sombrero, etc. The people there are so so nice and when we say we are playing the Salty Nut tonight the guy behind the counter explains that menu items with steak and all beers will cost, but otherwise we can order whatever we want for free. We get burritos, nachos, beans, rice, salsa, hot sauce, ice water in a paper cup. We feast, scarf down, all hungrier than we realized, it’s essentially a non-franchise Taco Bell by my appraisal, which is absolutely perfect as far as I’m concerned, the beans and rice feel good and substantial. Tired Frontier shows up a little after us, gets the same stuff basically, we eat and laugh and finish and go back to the venue and wait around for awhile, I join Jeremy and Royal outside skateboarding and act crazy and try to film them doing tricks but my phone dies and and eventually they stop and we go inside and set up and play. The show goes fine, TF sounds as good as they have so far. They’re playing to a crowd of the other two bands and maybe 8 people in the bar sitting at a table eating food they brought over for Banditos Burritos. The show is fine, unremarkable. When we play, I do the usual routine of trying to play my hardest and with my whole body, and end up dropping sticks more than once and missing some snare hits and not being able to keep up on the driving floor tom parts, mostly because I’m not warmed up and maybe not focusing enough, I’m letting myself get a little carried away trying to play hard and fast rather than keep things tight, I worry this may miff the other guys but after the show there is no indication that anyone even noticed it or cared. There was a cool part where I dropped a stick but instead of it falling to the floor it bounced around on top of the snare and tom and I managed to snatch it out of mid air and keep playing and Jeremy noticed that and that made me feel cool. We played hard and to my ear we got good claps between songs, we are pretty live and high energy and I think even if people don’t like our sound they appreciate the energy, but also some of the songs are earworms and catchy and people like that too, I’ve heard. We finish, the other drummer from the other band, Golden Flakes, says great set man, we perch at the merch table but sell nothng. We listen to Golden Flakes play for close to an hour, very jam band vibe, many many guitar solos, kind of sloppy, sort of high energy rock and roll I guess, I by this time am tired and pretty disinterested, get on my phone for most of it. Toward the end of their sets someone who I assume is a townie is drunk and heckling them between songs in a way that they are clearly fine with and they know the guy and to me for some reason he looks the way I imagine the way the protagonist John from Shit Town the podcast would look. We are in Alabama after all. He sounds like John (not from our band, from the podcast). He’s annoying and I’m being judgy in my head about him when I should maybe feel sorry or indifferent, idk. It feels sad to me, I don’t feel like writing more about it. It’s awkward enough, the heckling and banter from Golden Flakes, that by the end of the set we all kind of joke-rush out of there, quietly agreeing that what’s happening is awkward and unpleasant and we should go. We get put up in Thomas’s apartment, and on on the ride home the guys talk about how Huntsville’s claim to fame is being the place where the Nazi engineers taken during Operation Paperclip were taken after WW2, whose skills were put to use developing rockets, and that all manner of testing has taken place in and around the nearby military base, the Redstone Arsenal. Kabir tells a story about how a nuclear warhead was dropped on NC and by freak chance did not detonate. It would have wiped out the population of the entire Southeast. I didn’t believe it but you can read about it here:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1961_Goldsboro_B-52_crash?wprov=sfti1
At the apartment I make a b-line for the couch, get my sleeping stuff out, eat an apple and a banana and a bunch of peanut butter out the jar and go to sleep. At the end of every day I feel so much more irritable and grumpy than I do at other times. I still really treasure a quiet space all to myself to sleep in and so this troubles that. But I just listen to a youtube video on European history, learn nothing, and have no dreams I remember.
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