#But gotta do a stupid self tape

[theirloveisgross]

.

[tobiasdrake]

I really do love how much you can tell about Doomguy just from looking around his room.

Like. Yeah, all the stuff you expect to see is there.

He's got his big ol' gun rack.

What appears to be a rock he uses as a punching bag.

Whetstone for sharpening his knives. All the Real Manly Violence Man stuff you'd think would be there.

But also a pair of nunchaku. Doomguy has never used nunchaku in any of his games. Those are just there because apparently he's the kind of dork who likes to play around with nunchaku and pretend he's doing kung fu.

Also a jump rope. Gotta keep his cardio up for all that running and jumping he has to do.

He reads Guns & Bullets magazine, but he also reads Science Monthly. Which makes sense that he'd be a bit of a techie since....

...he seems to have made his new Praetor Suit by disassembling the old one and rebuilding it to be higher-quality. You can see from the guts of the suit that it's powered armor, and he just... knows how to work that.

He's mad. Not stupid.

He also reads cooking magazines, of course. His only friend is Doom J.A.R.V.I.S.; He's gotta be self-sufficient. Though how he got those pizzas delivered is certainly beyond me.

And, of course, he has a collection of regular books that he likes to read as well. Though his taste in literature reveals a certain trend.

Also, he reads comics.

So many comics.

So, so many comics that he's left discarded comics lying around on his munitions cases. This man is a nerd.

And if you doubt his nerd cred, remember that he even keeps collectible toy displays. Doomguy is explicitly the kind of person who will go out of his way in a firefight with the forces of Hell itself to go snatch up a new toy for his collection.

He even has collectible toy figures hanging out on his computer desk. He put a little hard hat on one of them.

On the other side of his desk, he's got some leftover pizza from the inexplicable delivery service, plus takoyaki flavor chips and some candy. It seems Doomguy is a fruity candy kind of guy, not a chocolate guy. Man after my own heart.

Oh, you know he has shredded every single surface of the Fortress of Doom at some point. How do you think he learned to react so quickly in combat?

That is, of course....

When he's not ROCKING OUT with one of his three separate guitars. I bet the middle one's his favorite. It has a place of honor under the giant demon skull.

Some people might say that a record player and casette tapes are old-fashioned but cut him some slack; He's a Gen X-er.

Of course, there's one thing that any walk through Doomguy's room reveals more than anything else. The one thing that matters more than the world to him. The thing that drives him in his every waking moment.

He loved his bunny rabbit. My favorite thing about the portrait - Well, my favorite thing about it is that it's a piece of fanart that got officially canonized, but aside from that - is that he's wearing his Praetor Suit in it.

That's not something he brought from home. He commissioned an artist to paint that after becoming a Night Sentinel. He still loves his poor, late bunny rabbit.

And he keeps her close to him when he's home.

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

prompt drabble series - nonverbal ways to say ‘i love you’

5 - remembering a trivial fact about them

prompts from promptingyou

PAIRING: logan howlett x gn!reader

TAGS: they/them pronouns for reader, fluff, actions speak louder than words is logan’s strong suit, tall!logan bc i love hugh jackman :)

A/N: deadpool and wolverine revived my love for logan so this is just self-indulgent bc i love him so so much. the x-men movies were my gateway into marvel so i just have to show my man some love yk? happy reading <3

WORD COUNT: 597

masterlist || request box <3

You and Logan weren’t that close. Aside from having rooms right next to each other and being co-workers, you didn’t know much about him. Rarely were you ever in a room with him when it was just you two. 

Heading over to the kitchen for a midnight snack, you stumble upon him smoking by the window. “Can't sleep either?" you asked as you quietly padded across the wood. 

Logan merely grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigar. Grabbing the tub of your favorite ice cream from the freezer, you took a seat at the counter. The tub was practically almost empty so you resorted to eating straight out of it. "Are those really any better than regular cigarettes?" you carefully asked in hopes of breaking the awkward silence—well, at least to you it was awkward. At your question, he turned over his shoulder and leaned to sit down against the window sill, his eyebrows furrowed a little deeper than they normally were.

"Haven't tried anything but these," he replied, glancing down at it before looking back at you, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

"What?"

"You're the first person who's caught me smoking inside that didn’t immediately remind me of Chuck's stupid rule."

"I mean… it is a good rule considering this whole place is built of wood," you joked, taking another bite of ice cream before speaking again. "I'm not one for rules either anyways. It'd be a bit hypocritical of me to get on your case, don't you think?"

He hummed, the tiniest smirk on his face at your nonchalance. He'd been living and teaching (begrudgingly) at the mansion for a while now, but a lot of the kids and other X-Men were still intimidated by him. His tough guy façade certainly didn’t help much but that’s just how he was used to living after being alive for almost 200 years. But that never seemed to deter you. Putting out his cigar, he started to head back to his room. "Don't stay up too late, bub," he muttered as he passed you.

"Night, Logan,” you called over your shoulder, scraping the sides of the tub as you finished it out. Throwing it away, you made a mental note to grab more whenever you went back out to get groceries.

A couple days later…

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as you made your way down to the kitchen. It was pretty early in the day, but you weren’t one to let the time of day deter you from snacking on a few scoops of ice cream. Then you remembered. You had eaten the last bit the other night when you ran into Logan and had yet to restock. Damn.

So it came as a surprise to see yet another full tub in the freezer when you went to rummage through it to find something else to satiate your sweet tooth. A post-it was taped to the top of it, big black letters scrawled across it.

For Y/N. If you’re not them, do not touch this. - Logan

Your face brightened as you read it. Sure, it wasn’t that sweet of a message, but you’d take what you could get. Pulling it out, you realized it was the same exact flavor—your favorite flavor—and brand you loved. You’d barely spent five minutes with each other the other night, but he remembered.

“I gotta thank him later,” you thought to yourself as you sat down, your day made by the gesture. Maybe your efforts to befriend him weren’t a lost cause after all.

[jedifarmerr]

Untimely - Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC (AFAB).

Summary: Joel might have a little crush on his business partner, but it’s no big deal - really.

This can be read as either pre-canon or AU. Reader has a nickname, but physical description is a blank slate

Rating: E (18+ no minors)

Warnings/Tags: Joel’s POV, readers dad used to be Joel’s boss, discussion of absent parents (not reader), very minor discussion of parental death (again not reader), Joel is kinda awkward when it comes to dating, workplace relationship but without power dynamics, squint and you’ll find an age gap (no exact age is stated but she does have a college degree), pining and lots of it, denial of feelings and all that good stuff, and smut in general. I’m not gonna tag everything or this would get way too long but consent is clearly stated and does not have any major triggers (to my knowledge, but let me know if you catch something).

Word Count: 23,000. This was supposed to be a short one-shot, but got out of control. Oops. This is separated into two parts on AO3

Note: I’m back!! I know it’s been a hot minute, but I’m very very excited and very very nervous to share what I’ve been working on in my absence. But here it is!

---

The first full week of September, and Austin was deadlocked in a nasty heatwave. 

Days like this made Joel wish he’d chosen a job that involved a roof over his head – or maybe just a little shade. Anything would be better than being crushed under the weight of the cruel Texas sun as it poured down through the bare-bone house. Still, Joel hammered his way through it. Even as the sun baked his scalp and covered every inch of his skin in sweat. 

Joel flapped his shirt to dry the cotton sticking to his chest like silicone glue. His walk was more so a waddle, which was honestly his fault for wearing jeans. The denim chafed against his thighs while combing the work site for any loose supplies. All he wanted to do was hop into his work truck, blast the air conditioning and leave, but instead he diligently checked between every wooden beam and around every corner. Despite the lack of drywall leaving barely any hiding spots, it was insane how often Tommy forgot a power drill behind a tub of paint or cement. 

Or somewhere else incredibly stupid. 

Nothing major today, though. Just a few nails that jingled around in his tool belt as he stepped out onto the future front porch, immediately spotting Tommy. Kinda hard to miss with his big ass head poking out the driver side window while puffing on his daily post-work Marlboro. 

“The engine was making that funny noise again,” Tommy claimed, his voice echoing across the dirt lawns and unpaved driveways of the brand new subdivision. 

Joel walked past the rusty-white hood, but heard nothing other than the usual ancient roar. There was the radio in the cab playing Foolish Games by Jewel – a favorite of Sarah’s. 

“Funny noise, huh?” He eyed Tommy with blatant skepticism before slumping into the dusty cloth seat with a thunk. “Well, sounds like it’s fixed now.” 

“Oh yeah good as new.” Tommy burned the soul from his cigarette, then chucked the butt out the window. “This thing’s gotta be what - 10? 15 years old?” 

“Something like that.” Joel didn’t know off the top of his head. The truck had been a part of the company even longer than him, meaning it had to be somewhere closer to 15 than 10. From what he could recall it’d been a few years off mint condition even when Danny first hired him. 

“Then, how the hell is it still running?” 

“Danny’s a smart man who didn’t buy a shitty Chevy,” Joel lightheartedly jabbed at his little brother – a self-proclaimed Chevrolet man, but only because of his buddies. “He knew that Ford was better - built tough.” 

“Well, ain’t lookin’ too tough now,” Tommy pointed out and Joel shrugged. 

As long as the truck got him from one place to the next, he didn’t care if it was taped together by spit and gorilla glue. He knew for a fact Tommy wouldn’t complain either if a new one was coming out of his wallet instead. 

Tommy threw the truck into reverse. “I’m telling you now, you’re gonna regret not buying a new one sooner.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Joel snorted. “Put some sugar in the gas tank?” 

“I don’t have to sabotage this piece of shit - it’ll crap out on its own soon enough,” Tommy said. “Hell, it could even happen today.” 

“Better not,” Joel grumbled, but otherwise went quiet. He didn’t know why Tommy had to put that idea in his head. Sarah was waiting for him at the shop. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to break down. 

For a mile or so, Joel sat on the edge of his seat, carefully listening to the bumps and groans – typical for a truck around Sarah’s age. The engine rattled as Tommy merged onto Highway 183, but it always did when accelerating. He swore it did. 

Whatever – enough. 

There was paperwork to do. Today’s timesheets were in the glovebox, only halfway complete. So, he pulled out the folder and set to work. At least it offered a distraction from the brakes screeching like a horde of bats during rush hour traffic. 

“Did you ever hear from the concrete guys?” Tommy turned down an obnoxiously loud ad for a car dealership in town. 

Grunting, he curtly nodded. His pen found Harry’s Concrete at the bottom of the sheet and promptly scratched it out with scathing red ink. Just seeing their name triggered a sour taste in his mouth. 

He was used to the concrete guys being flaky, but not like this. These last couple months had been like dandruff in the winter. Brutal. Today, the bastards didn’t even have the balls to call until after lunch. No excuse, either. 

“Third day in a row,” Tommy just had to say, as if he needed a nudge. “In my opinion - I think it’s time to hire somebody else.” 

“Well, you know who to share that opinion with, and it ain’t me,” Joel chided – annoyed. It drove him crazy how often Tommy needed to be reminded of simple things, like what Joel’s role in the business entailed. For God sake – it’d been over a year now since he became a partner in the company. 

Joel could initially understand the confusion. After all, Danny had run the business as a one-man show and everyone, including Joel, thought his daughter would fully take over once he retired. Danny had always said that was the plan anyway, and even named the place: Teddy’s Company. 

Originally, Joel had thought Teddy was her real name until three years ago when he finally got the chance to meet her. But how was he supposed to know when Danny never called her by anything else? It wasn’t like Joel had known much about her back then either, and what little he did came from Danny’s vague and blue-moon updates. 

College is going well. 

Her new job’s treating her good. 

She moved into a new place, seems to like it. 

Short – brief. Some people probably thought Danny was being crusty but that wasn’t the case. No, Danny was never rude or mean, just quiet. A man of few words who on his more mute days could even make Joel look chatty. 

Before meeting her, Joel used to wonder what she’d be like. His future boss. There was a mystery around her that made her seem almost mythical, an enigma. She was like Willy Wonka with her name plastered all over the place: on his shirts, the side of the truck, front and center of the shop. But Joel had no idea who she was. 

Even with a gun to his head, he couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd. Or even a line-up. The only picture he’d seen of her was in a popsicle frame on Danny’s otherwise bare desk: The two of them at a petting zoo where she couldn’t be older than six. 

Without much to go by, Joel had simply assumed that she would look and act, at least somewhat similar to her dad. He’d built Teddy up in his mind as a strong, burly woman who was gruff around the edges. Someone with a sailor’s mouth and stubby fingernails embedded with dirt and grit and grout.

Instead, they were fake and baby pink. She looked like she had never changed a tire in her whole life. 

She probably hadn’t, but she was without a doubt smarter than Tommy and him combined. A graduate from some fancy university in California with an equally fancy business degree. Charming with a nice, smooth voice perfect for sales. If she went to a random street corner to sell bags of cow manure she could sucker anyone, even him, into waiting in line to buy one. 

She was down-right impressive. Finances, pitches, and permits, she could do it all. However, the other side of the business – the manual labor, a little more dirty. 

Joel had not a doubt in his mind that she had the ability to learn it, but did she want to? 

Hell no. 

For one, she had this irrational fear over being electrocuted. Back before Danny retired and she first started working at the front desk, Joel had walked in on her changing out a lightbulb, and you would’ve thought a snake had popped out of the ceiling. He’d mistaken it for a fear of heights until a few months back when Sarah refused to let him shower during a rainstorm. Sarah had looked hysterical using her lanky-arms to body-block the stairs, warning him that he’d get fried if he went up there. 

“Don’t you know dad, lightning can travel through plumbing? Teddy was telling me all about it today.” 

Joel didn’t have a clue where that particular fear stemmed from, but her vendetta against attics, now that he could understand. After all, she’d probably still be in California if not for her dad’s accident. 

It was never Danny’s plan to retire so early. Despite the appointments and constant physical therapy, it’d still caught Joel by surprise, though not as much as Teddy’s offer to run the business alongside her. Together. 50/50. Sure, it came with this boring paperwork, but a bigger paycheck as well. Only a fool would’ve turned that down. 

Besides, promotion or not – he would’ve stayed and worked for her, regardless. 

—

Back at the shop, Joel would usually help Tommy unload the truck, but not today. 

Instead, Joel tucked the file under his arm, hung his tool belt on the rack, then made his way through the garage. He entered through the back door, letting it slam behind him. The cool air greeted him, tingling his tacky skin and he shivered. 

The vents rumbled inside the white hallway walls, echoing around the shop. Along with two voices coming from the lobby. When he heard Teddy’s laugh, he ran a quick hand through his hair, fixing the damp strands away from his forehead. 

He rounded the corner and Teddy was at her desk. Everything from her neck down was cut-off by the high-glass counter, making her look like a floating head. A very nice-looking floating head or a nice head to look at or -

Whatever. 

She was smiling at him – that same honey-golden smile that welcomed him every morning. The same smile he wished was here to welcome him every evening, as well. But with how late he worked most days, it was a hit or miss. He could never guarantee she would still be here, except on the days with Sarah. 

“You’re late,” Sarah said before he could even say hi. 

Joel glanced at the clock above the front door. 5:45. 15 minutes. 

“Barely.” Anything less than thirty was a win in his book. It didn’t matter that Teddy chose to stick around and keep Sarah company, he wouldn’t push it. She was his business partner – not a babysitter. 

“Still late.” Sarah stepped away from Teddy’s desk with her arms crossed menacingly over her chest. If not for the twitch of her lips, she would’ve appeared deadly serious. The girl never could keep a straight face though for more than a second. 

“Let me guess, you’ll forgive me if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” 

Bingo. Sarah tapped on the tip of her nose and Joel huffed a laugh. 

“Well, Uncle Tommy drove, but we can ask-” 

“We?” Sarah looked at him like he was crazy before shaking her head. “I think I’ll handle this one on my own.” 

“What’re you trying to say?” He asked and her lips curved into a half-cocky, half-play smirk that screamed teenage girl. A stage of life he felt rather unprepared for, even more so than diapers and potty training and 6th grade math. The teenage years were bound to be harder than statistics and exponents and long division. 

“Come on, dad. When has Uncle Tommy ever said no to this?” She showed off her best puppy dog eyes and alright – yeah, poor Tommy didn’t stand a chance. 

But Joel didn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. He was too stunned that the little girl who used to hide behind his legs at the grocery store was the same one who was strutting down the hallway now without even glancing back. 

He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at Teddy. “I don’t know where all this confidence of hers has come from recently,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the now-shut door. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with you.” 

“Me?” She fluttered her lashes like she was clueless – definitely something she wasn’t. 

“That’s right,” he replied as he approached her desk. Her area always smelled clean and homey like fresh laundry in a field of wildflowers. The last thing he wanted to do was invade her perfumed bubble with the stench of his sweat and that specific twang that came from being outside all day. So, when he caught a strong whiff of her perfume, he stopped and propped his hip against the desk before saying, “I think you’re rubbing off on her.” 

“And is that such a bad thing?” She squinted at him and unlike Sarah, she could actually keep a straight face. 

“No.” He firmly shook his head. “In fact, I meant that as a compliment.” 

In an instant, her flat-line lips split into a wide grin. He smiled in return, stupidly pleased with himself for making her light up like that. His gaze momentarily dropped from her lips to the single button left undone on her shirt. The charcoal gray fabric shined in a way that reminded him of moonlight over Travis Lake. It looked soft and smooth as butter. And not to mention expensive. Joel bet if he touched it, even so carefully, the material would immediately snag under his callouses. 

Teddy motioned for the file and when he handed it over, he felt a draft under his armpit from the hole in his shirt. He glanced down at his jeans, covered in dirt and mud and sawdust. Filthy. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness. It was hard not to feel like a mess next to her sometimes when she was always dressed so goddamn professional with her pressed slacks and tucked in shirts. Anyone who saw her would think she worked for some big corpo with a koi pond in the lobby. Not a Morton building with more garage than office space. 

“They didn’t show?” 

Teddy’s voice jolted his attention back to her face. Her lips were pinched, her cherry red fingernail was bleeding into his own pissed-off pen marks. He mentally cursed himself for being too wrapped up in his own stupid head to warn her about the concrete guys. Good going, idiot. 

There was nothing he could do about it now, except frown and shake his head. “They called and said-” 

“Let me guess, they’ll be there first thing tomorrow?” She bitterly scoffed, clipping the folder shut. The manila spine crunched under her grip before she abruptly turned away from him to face the wall of cabinets behind her. She never said it out loud that it bothered her, but clearly it did and rightfully so. 

Working here this long Joel had witnessed these same people treat her dad with respect only to now try and walk all over her. He found it complete and utter bullshit, but was it a surprise? Sadly, not really. Enough years around construction sites and his tinnitus resembled cat-calls more than a compressor. 

Still, he fucking hated it. His left eye flinched watching her file away the folder in silence. The protective lobe in his brain flared as his fingers curled and burned into a fist at his side. God – he wanted to go to Harry’s Concrete and give that bald loser a piece of his mind and maybe a black eye, but he didn’t. 

He wouldn’t. 

No – instead, he continued to bite his tongue until his mouth flooded with the taste of pennies. He’d become used to the tang of copper in his mouth after the roofers, the plumbers, even the electricians that tried her in the past. The only reason he held himself back was because of her. Because she asked him to let her deal with it, and she was perfectly capable of handling things herself. Better than him at it, in fact. 

Teddy slammed the drawer shut, rattling the entire cabinet. “I’m not gonna fire them.” 

“Okay,” he said without having to think twice. He didn’t expect her to fire them, honestly.  She’d explained to him before that she’d never burn bridges prematurely. The grass was not always greener on the other side, especially not in Texas. Especially not in this line of work. 

“Or - I should say I’m not going to fire them yet, anyway.” Her voice was steady – determined. “But one more and it’s over. I’m gonna let Harry know that he’s on his last strike when I call him tomorrow.” 

“Give ‘em hell,” he encouraged her. Whatever she said in those calls had, so far, been enough to whip everyone who crossed her into shape. Just once, he wished he could be a fly on the wall to witness her in action. She didn’t look particularly tough, but he imagined her being like an asp caterpillar, fuzzy and harmless until poked.

She didn’t linger on the topic, and instead asked about his day. He did the same. Neither had much to report outside the usual. 

“So, how was Sarah today? Did she talk your ear off about the homecoming dance coming up?” 

She giggled, gathering up the papers on her desk and stacking them into a neat pile in the corner. “How did you know?” 

“Cause she found out Monday, and hasn’t talked about anything else since.” 

“Oh and it’s only just begun,” she said with a smirk. “Welcome to your life for the next few weeks, Joel.” 

Joel scratched at the spot where his temple was already beginning to throb. Why did they have to announce it so early? It was great seeing Sarah so excited, but she kept asking him about his own first homecoming. He hated lying to her, but he couldn’t very well tell her the only thing he remembered was Rachel Borthwick and how she let him feel her up – the first boobs he ever touched – underneath the gymnasium bleachers. The thought of Sarah being that same age made him want to throw up. 

He swallowed the thought before it came out all over her desk. “Were you the same way at her age?” 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure if you asked my dad, he’d tell you I was worse.” She snorted, almost seeming embarrassed by her younger self. “For some odd reason, I had it built up in my mind that it’d be like that prom scene from Grease. Minus the broadcast and all that-” 

“Wait, your dance wasn’t on the news?” He tried to keep a straight face, but he was just as bad as his daughter. 

“Shut up.” She playfully shoved his arm and he rubbed it like it hurt. She rolled her eyes, but continued anyway. “My dad didn’t have the heart to tell me, so it was a pretty huge letdown when they didn’t even play Born to Hand Jive. I think I even requested it.” 

“How did you survive?” 

“It’s a miracle,” she said, and he huffed out a laugh. Three years later, and she still surprised him with every new story she chose to reveal. 

There was a split-second where the only sound in the room came from the buzzy-white fluorescent lights above him. Teddy stole a quick glance towards the hallway, as if checking if Sarah was back. She had still not reappeared and he wondered if Tommy had baited her into helping him unload the truck or maybe just sticking around to talk. 

Teddy clicked her fingernails on the counter in front of him. “Real quick, I wanted to ask,” she said before clearing her throat. “Have you and Sarah talked at all about dress shopping?” 

Joel shifted back a step, his boots scratching against the cheap, gray carpet. “Dress shopping?” He forced the words from his throat, then shook his head. He looked away, feeling a pit in his stomach that reminded him of Muffins for Mother’s Day in elementary school – Mommy & Me at the daycare. 

Again – dress shopping was another one of those things girls usually did with their mom’s, but Lisa wasn’t meant to be a mom. She’d even said so herself in the note she left next to her engagement ring on the day she vanished with their dog. Joel wished his own mom was still around to help fill in when the gaps felt too big for him, but sadly, she had passed away before Sarah turned 4. Since then, it’d only been just Tommy and him. 

“The only reason I ask is because,” Teddy started, clutching at the dainty gold chain around her neck, “Well, she sorta asked me to take her.” 

“Oh.” Joel didn’t know what else to say. Not that it offended him or anything petty like that. God no – he wasn’t delusional enough to think that he would be Sarah’s first choice when it came to fashion. After all, his idea of dressing up was a flannel and whatever jeans were clean. Teddy made a lot more sense than him. 

“I didn’t give her an answer, just so you know. I wanted to check with you first.” Her voice was rushed, slightly pitchy, and he realized this was the first time he’d ever seen her even remotely nervous. She must be just as cautious as him about crossing whatever line was supposed to exist in this…relationship? Dynamic? 

Joel smiled at her, softly, hoping to ease her anxiety. “Well, thank you,” he said and she appeared to relax at his calm tone. “I have no problems with you taking her, as long as you wanna do it.” 

“Of course, I want to, but are you - are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us if you want. We could all go together?” 

The offer was tempting, but he declined. He knew Sarah would enjoy it being just the two of them. It could be girl time or whatever. 

Teddy pulled out her planner to check on what dates would work best when Sarah came back in. Once she heard the good news, the victorious grin on her face somehow grew even bigger. The last time he saw her that excited was when he surprised her with tickets to Six Flags for her 11th birthday. 

Teddy and her started to discuss which stores to hit and what mall would be best, basically a foreign language to him. He should’ve started on closing duties, but instead he found his gaze drawn to Teddy. How she appeared equally as thrilled as Sarah. He always could tell when she was excited by the way she talked with her hands. That smile was downright infectious and – 

He noticed Sarah watching him. Her quizzical eyes were glued to his face. Shit. He was staring. Quick. Joel forced a smile at Sarah that hopefully said nothing-to-see-here. He didn’t stick around to wait for her reaction and instead, fled into his office. 

For a few minutes, he pretended to check over files and went down the list of closing duties, completely avoiding them until the only thing left was setting the alarm. Finally, he dared to look in their direction again. When he saw Sarah’s focus was entirely on Teddy, the tension drained from his shoulders. 

He thought he was in the clear. 

—-

“Dad, do you think Teddy’s pretty?” 

Joel’s head whipped up and a sharp, pointy fry was lodged into the back of his throat. It burned and stabbed its way down to his esophagus. For a second, he thought he was going to choke and die at his own dining room table from a McDonald’s fry. 

“What?” His voice crackled like sandpaper from holding in a cough. 

“She asked if you thought Teddy was pretty?” Tommy repeated, loud and clear with a smug grin that he didn’t even try to hide behind his Big Mac. 

Joel’s gaze flickered from one set of brown eyes to the next. He was cornered, his back against the bay window. No way out and no one to blame but himself for this mess. He was, after all, the dummy who got caught. 

Joel held up a waiting finger, then slowly sipped on his coke to calm his burning throat. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he wrapped his head around what to say. Lying was out of the question. It seemed more damning than the truth. 

The thing was – there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t like she was asking if he liked her. Not that he did like her. Well, maybe just a little. Just a teeny, tiny crush but it was nothing really. Stupid, honestly. For the most part, he could ignore it. 

Joel cleared his throat and gave a casual shrug. “Uh yeah, she’s uh - she’s pretty.” 

Despite his best attempt at cool, Sarah’s lips still flickered. Only the corners, as she continued to bathe her fries in a pool of ketchup. 

“Have you ever thought about - maybe asking her out?” 

A deep laugh barked in his ears and bounced around the tile floor like spiky ping pong balls. “Come on, Teddy’s way out of his league.” Tommy’s hand collided against his shoulder with a hard thwack. It slightly stung. 

But Joel didn’t take it too seriously. Tommy hassling him over Teddy was nothing new. Ever since she started working the front desk, it’d been Tommy’s favorite gag. In a weird way, Joel considered it a good thing that he saw it as one big joke. If Tommy had any idea about his silly crush, he would’ve kept his mouth shut instead of teasing him. Tommy might’ve been a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel. 

Sarah didn’t seem to care whether it was a joke or not and scolded her uncle from across the table. She gave him a hard glare before turning back to Joel. She blinked expectantly, not letting him out of this. 

Joel sighed. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t think so.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” He licked his teeth and sucked a stuck piece of meat from between his molars. There was a laundry list of reasons, but he went with the least complicated. “We work together.”

“So? Two teachers at my school are dating, and it’s no big deal. They didn’t even get in trouble.” 

“Wait,” Tommy piped in with a mouthful of bun and sauce. “Isn’t she dating someone?” 

Joel swallowed down the salty taste in his mouth, bitter like vinegar. He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“You think so?” Sarah looked at him with clear suspicion. “So, she didn’t tell you that.” 

“Well…no. But-” 

“Then, how do you know?” 

Joel crinkled the empty wrapper into a tight ball, then tossed it into the paper bag. “Somebody sent her flowers at work. Nice ones too.” Too grand to fit in her car, so instead they lived and died in the tiny break room directly across from his office. 

“When?” 

Three months. “I don’t know, not that long ago.” 

“Well, how do you know they weren’t from her dad?” Sarah asked, not backing down. “Or maybe her friends sent them?” 

Joel shook his head, recalling the stupid plastic holder that had poked out at him like a giant weed among the long stem roses. “The card said Happy Anniversary.” 

At that, Sarah sank into the chair like a deflated balloon. She shoved a whole chicken nugget into her mouth – no sauce. Each dry crunch-crunch grated against the silence. 

This recent interest in his love life was new. He wondered if it had something to do with her age or maybe all those rom-coms she watched. She’d never cared about him dating or – she did try to set him up once, a few months ago, with her best friend’s recently divorced mom, but when he shot it down she had quickly moved on. 

But she didn’t even finish her chicken nuggets. He noticed a faraway look in her eyes – his eyes, one of the only things she inherited from him. She was somewhere deep in her head, in that big brain of hers that definitely didn’t come from him. 

She did eventually perk up when Tommy brought up the new season of the Bachelor, but still wasn’t her usual self. So after Tommy left, Joel settled in beside her on the couch to watch Friends. This show was like her pacifier. Sick or just a bad day, one of Joey’s jokes could cheer her up instantly. 

Not today, though. A whole episode later, and she’d barely said a word. Barely laughed, which had him really concerned. He got the sense that whatever was bothering her was something bigger than just Teddy. 

“You’re quiet tonight.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and snugged her closer. She collapsed into him like a domino. Full cheeks squished against his shirt. She didn’t respond, and he didn’t press. Only can-laughter existed in the space between them. 

Laying like this reminded him of when she was a baby. So tiny, a full head of hair even then. She would fall asleep on his bare chest while waiting for Lisa to return home from work. Looking back, the signs had always been there that one day she would run. She’d practically lived at her job after her maternity leave was done. Hell, she didn’t even take the full 6 weeks. Post-partum, the doctor called it, it’ll get better in time. But it didn’t. There was no medication cocktail that could make her want this life – that could make her want to stay. 

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s eyes didn’t leave Phoebe and Monica. 

“Anything,” he murmured against her hair before placing a light kiss to the top of her head. She no longer smelled of Johnson & Johnson or desitin, but coconuts and lime. 

“Are you lonely?” 

Even with her feathery-soft tone, the words hit him like a sucker punch, square in the jaw. Where the hell did that come from? 

“Do I seem lonely?” The words left him like a reflex, automatic. It was the second time tonight she’d caught him off-guard. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her shoulders sliding along his t-shirt. “Are you?” 

Slowly Sarah lifted her head – her big eyes bore into him and when he could trace every concerned line on her young face, the guilt smothered him like wet mineral wool. It was his job to worry, not hers. 

He urgently shook his head. “No. Of course not.” 

She silently stared at him, squinting as if somehow it would give her Professor X’s ability to read his mind. Clearly, he did not convince her and so he tried again. Harder. 

“Sarah, listen. I am perfectly fine, alright?” He brushed a curly strand of hair from her face, firmly holding her gaze. “If I was lonely, I’d go do something with Uncle Tommy. He’s always asking me to do things after work-” 

“Why don’t you?” 

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at her confusion. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. Teenagers always wanted to be out somewhere, doing something with their friends.

“Cause I’m old. And I’m tired. And honestly, I’d rather be home.” With you. The last part never slipped through the gap in his bottom teeth. He never wanted to make Sarah feel guilty for leaving him and living her life. 

“You’re such a hermit.” She nudged at his chest, a smile sweeping across her face. Exactly what he’d been missing. 

“I prefer homebody,” he corrected, making her burst into a giggling fit. He waited until she went quiet to say, “Either way - you ain’t gotta worry about me, alright?” 

Once again, her expression turned very serious. Her eyes darted once, twice, across his face. “Swear?” 

“On my life.”

—

Later that night, Joel laid awake in bed fighting to find a comfortable position. Even sprawling out in the middle didn’t work. The sheets were tangled around his legs, his feet – his thoughts equally twisted up from Sarah’s question earlier. 

Are you lonely? Was he? 

Joel had never considered himself to be lonely. Not really. Or not all the time, at least. For the most part, Sarah and work kept him busy enough that he never gave it much thought. 

If he did think about it though, he supposed crawling into bed alone every night could get a little depressing. He was still human, after all. Intimacy was a basic human need. It was just simple biology when he occasionally craved a soft touch or someone to talk with before drifting off to sleep. It’d been a long damn time since he experienced either of those things. 

Maybe Sarah was onto something. Maybe it was time for him to get back out there, but oh God. Just thinking about it made him light-headed. 

Where would he even start?

His last serious relationship was his only serious relationship. After Lisa left, there was hardly any time for that. Being a single dad, dating wasn’t his top priority. 

Sure, he’d managed to squeeze in a few first dates over the years, even less second ones, and he couldn’t for the life of him recall a third. If so, it’d been nothing worth remembering. 

Honestly, the only person he’d considered asking out recently was Teddy. It was just a dumb idea that crossed his mind sometime in late spring when too much tree pollen and dust mites must’ve gotten into his head. He’d luckily come to his senses and fast. A few short weeks later, those damn flowers showed up. 

If he was being honest, no one else really interested him. 

And how could they? 

It wasn’t even just about her looks, she was sweet and smart and surprisingly funny. Joking or not, Tommy was right – she was way out of his league and why was he thinking about this right now? Joel cleared his mind with a hard shake of his head. He needed to stop, get some sleep. He didn’t want to know what time it was already. Without looking at the clock, he flipped onto his side, fluffed his pillow, then shut his eyes. 

Within seconds, Teddy slithered back into his mind with her perfect smile, the delicious scent of her soap, and those jeans she would undoubtedly wear tomorrow. Casual Friday might actually be the death of him. Denim on her hips was seriously a sin.  

Just thinking of her fully-clothed ass made his cock twitch inside his boxers. Somehow that was enough to get him half-hard, the tip snagging over the soft-cotton. 

Joel groaned in unison with the bed springs as he flopped onto his back. His palms itched to reach down and squeeze at his cock for a little relief. But he resisted, and forced his mind to somewhere far less pleasant. Broken wires. Wrong-size headers. Clogged drains. A memory of her gripping a PVC pipe invaded his brain and suddenly, it was her small hands wrapped around him instead. How would she look on her knees for him? Would she be able to fit him all in her two hands? If not, would she use her – 

“Fuck.” Joel gritted his teeth and fisted at the comforter. Get a grip. 

He felt like he was going crazy. Probably from the lack of action outside of his own fist. It was finally catching up with him. Tommy did warn him this would happen and fuck – he hated when Tommy was right. 

Joel thought back to the last time he had sex and cringed. Two years ago, but the memory was tattooed in his brain just like the monarch butterfly on the random woman’s lower back. It happened at a sleazy bar where everyone knew Tommy by name. He’d taken too many shots of Wild Turkey, then found himself fucking the woman in a one staller, quick and sloppy, right next to a clogged toilet. Not his proudest moment. He’d go to the grave blaming the whole thing on Tommy, who treated their rare nights out like the bachelor party he was still pissed off that he didn’t get to throw. 

The truth was though, even before Joel’s current involuntary celibacy, his sex life had been relatively non-existent. 

He hadn’t had sex on a semi-consistent basis since his 20’s. A casual hookup with a lady named Amy, who lived in the same apartment complex as him. No-strings attached. An arrangement born out of pure convenience rather than desire or intense lust. She lived in the apartment below him, and once a week came up after Sarah went to sleep and left before the condom hit the trash can. No surprise it ended once he moved out, and ever since then, it’d been random hookups and one-night stands whenever Tommy and him went out for a night. 

Joel sighed and stared up at the moon-stain ceiling of his bedroom, careful not to make any sudden movements in hopes to fight down his erection. While still and quiet might’ve worked to spook a black bear, his boner was sadly proving more resilient. 

With every passing minute, the warm tingly feeling in his belly spread like weeds through his body. His fingertips down to his toes. Fully hard, now. It became clear ignoring it was useless. He would just have to get this over with, so he could get some sleep tonight. 

Joel forcibly kicked off his blankets, then shoved down his boxers. His cock thwacked against his stomach and the tip was already shiny. He preferred to do this in the shower to avoid a mess, the steady stream of water helping to cover up his dry, cracked hands better than saliva. But something was better than nothing. He spit into his hand until his mouth was dry, then wrapped it around his cock. 

Whether in the shower or in his bed, it didn’t matter, Joel always jerked off like it was a chore. Hard and fast strokes where he could barely catch his breath. No need for soft and sensual, just a tight fist to take the edge off. This way, he found it easier to keep his less than friendly thoughts of Teddy at bay. 

He tried his best not to think about Teddy while doing this because friends don’t imagine their friends while fucking their fist. And that was all she was, all she would ever be – a friend. If he could he wouldn’t have thought of anyone at all, but he needed someone to imagine to get off. 

Instead of Teddy, he pictured a cover model from a 90’s Penthouse Magazine that he’d found in the guest room after Tommy moved out. A pretty brunette with big natural tits, who he didn’t have to work with tomorrow. 

His room steadily filled with the wet slap of his hand, the low thrum of the oscillating fan as he pretended the nameless woman was riding him. He was brutally fucking his fist when the woman shape-shifted into Teddy. So abruptly that he could barely register that it was her taking him down to the hilt. Her rolling her hips. Her fingernails scratching over his ribs, his shoulders, his chest with a little smirk even more sinful than her tight jeans. 

“Shit,” Joel hissed when he realized, but too late – his hips surged forward as he came. So sudden, so fast, it almost gave him whiplash. 

Joel was not usually loud during sex, more of a grunter than anything else, but it had never been so vivid. So real. He could practically feel the wet-heat of her cunt clenching around him. He had to snag his bottom lip between his teeth to keep every needy and desperate sound from bleeding out of his mouth as his cock pulsed and throbbed against his palm. He wouldn’t let himself find out what her name tasted like when he moaned. 

Clearly, this was not the first time she’d popped into his mind and he doubted it would be the last. He wouldn’t feel nearly as bad about it either, but there was a fuck-ton of cum on his stomach. Even a little on his chest. Fuck – he came so hard it made him lightheaded. 

He let the shame simmer down and once he caught his breath, he carefully dug out a travel-pack of Kleenex from his nightstand. He didn’t even wanna count how many tissues it took to wipe the syrupy-hot evidence from his skin. 

He’d be sticking to the shower from now until forever. 

—

The days had come and went and over a week later, Joel had not jacked off again. Not in the shower, and definitely not in his bed. But that had nothing to do with Teddy. Seriously. It was just a coincidence. 

Work had picked up. The heat wave had died out, giving way to more 80 degree days. Fall was fast approaching, by far their busiest season. There was a brand new neighborhood of bland cookie-cutter slab houses that had him working doubles everyday and judging by today, this week would be the exact same way. 

The streets were dark and mainly deserted by the time Joel dropped Tommy off at his apartment complex. Joel glanced at his phone – once again – for any missed calls before heading home. Still nothing. No new voicemails – 0 messages. 

The first and last time he heard from Sarah was after Teddy picked her up from school, right before heading into the mall. He’d told Sarah to call him once Teddy dropped her off, but she must’ve forgot. The same way she always forgot to lock the front door. He would be home in less than 5 minutes or else he would’ve called. But he would rather give her a talking-to in person. 

For a second, he wondered if she and Teddy were still at the mall, but it was late. Nearly 9. 

No one could spend 5 hours there. Hell, he could barely spend more than 2 without going stir-crazy. 

The last thing he expected when pulling onto his street was to see Teddy’s car parked in front of his house. The pearly white shell was perfectly lit up underneath a street light. 

What was she doing here?

He thought she would drop Sarah off and dip after their shopping trip, but obviously not. Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t waiting on him. Joel whipped into his driveway and hopped out without bothering to grab his tool box in the back. 

Inside, the living room was lit up with every lamp turned on, but otherwise empty. It was still tidy from the cleaning he did on Sunday, thankfully. He threw his keys on the console table, shutting the front door with his foot. He heard movement upstairs and headed that way. 

“Sarah,” he called out, mainly to give a heads-up and not scare them. “I’m home.” 

“Finally,” Sarah said as he stepped into her room. It smelled like that Body Works store at Barton Creek that Sarah loved, but always had him leaving with a headache. 

He stayed close to the fresh air and leaned against the door frame. Sarah was perched at her vanity, the counter in front of her completely buried under make-up, nail polish, and a bunch of other crap. 

“Teddy’s helping me decide what to wear with my dress.” Sarah swiveled around in her stool to face him. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Joel looked over at Teddy, who was standing behind Sarah with an earring pinched in each hand. The smile on her face was genuine. If she was in any real hurry to leave she didn’t show it. “When did y’all get back?” 

“I don’t know. 8:15? 8:20? Somewhere around there.” Sarah shared a shrug with Teddy. A little over thirty minutes, not bad. With the mess, he would’ve thought closer to an hour. 

“Dinner took a bit longer than I thought it would,” Teddy explained and his brows furrowed. 

“Busy night at the food court or something?” 

He noticed Sarah and Teddy share a secretive glance, and of course, they didn’t eat at the food court. He should’ve known better than to think Teddy would just take her to Sbarro. But out of every chain restaurant – did she have to pick the damn Cheesecake Factory?

Sarah was raving over the Mac & Cheese balls that definitely cost more than the 10 dollars he sent for baked ziti. Judging by the amount of shopping bags in the corner, Sarah had used her extra spending money on clothes instead of Chicken Costoletta. 

He waited until Sarah turned her back to nail Teddy with a knowing look. She swatted it away like a bothersome fly. She could be so damn stubborn sometimes. 

Later, he would deal with it. Money was not a topic he liked to discuss in front of Sarah. Besides, there were more important things at the moment. 

“So, are you gonna show me this dress of yours?” 

Sarah eagerly nodded and bounced over to her bed, picking up the black garment bag. It didn’t even allow him a peek at the color, not even when she hugged it tightly to her chest. 

“Well, come on - don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been waiting all night.” 

“Dad, you gotta see it on me or else you won’t get the full-effect,” she sassed, a duh implied in her tone. “Go downstairs, you and Teddy can wait-”

“Now, hold on there Sarah. It’s - it’s getting pretty late,” he pointed out, and Sarah’s fraying smile told him that she knew what he was trying to say. He hated disappointing her, but this was the right thing to do. “So Teddy, if you need to go home, don’t feel like you gotta stay.” 

Selfishly, Joel wanted her to stay, but why would she? She had already seen the dress, already given up her entire evening for Sarah. This was a free out, and he expected her to take it. 

Instead, She crossed her arms over her chest like a defiant child. “No way you’re getting rid of me that easily, Joel,” she said. “I’m sticking around to see your reaction.” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, she slid past him, her chest brushing against his arm. She motioned him to follow and he did without question. 

She led the way downstairs as if she’d been here before. But the few times she’d come by before to drop off paperwork she never made it past the front porch. 

His pulse slightly hiked up seeing her in his living room for the first time. Her gaze scanning the camel-colored walls, the pictures of Sarah throughout the years, his guitar that he rarely found time to play. Above the DVD and CD rack was the only real piece of art in the room – if that’s what people would call the painting of waves he’d found at a garage sale, the same one where he got the mismatched pillows on the couch. 

Interior design wasn’t his strong suit, but he was still proud of his home. Proud of himself for buying it on his own, for being able to prove this kind of place for his kid. All of this, from the rug to every decoration and lamp. It was best attempts to make this space feel homey – lived in for Sarah’s sake. She would not be the only kid in class growing up in a bachelor pad. 

“So, this is Joel Miller’s house?” Teddy spun around to face him and he found that she looked really good next to his coffee table. “It’s nice. I like it.” 

“Yeah?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, toeing the tile-carpet line that separated the kitchen from the living room. 

“Especially the Cowboys decor.” She pointed her thumb at the framed blue star logo that was hung up by the stairs. “Did you know I used to wanna be a cheerleader for them?”

Joel’s mouth went drier than when eating pretzels. He rapidly shook his head, mainly to erase the mental image of her in that skimpy little outfit. It would probably haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life. 

He cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. “I’m surprised Sarah didn’t give you a tour.” 

“Oh, she did.” Teddy plopped down on the couch with him, keeping a friendly distance of a cushion. “But don’t worry, the grand tour didn’t include your bedroom. She said that was off limits.” She puckered her bottom lip, pouting as if actually disappointed. 

“Trust me, you’re not missing much.” 

“But isn’t that where the magic happens?” 

Joel accidentally let out a snort. Magic. Nothing close to magic had ever happened in that room, unless what he did last week counted. “I think you’ve been watching too much Cribs.” 

Her lips parted, her eyes lit up with a wild look of amusement. “Does Joel Miller secretly watch MTV?” 

“Only against my will.” He jerked his chin towards the stairs. “She loves all that shit.” 

“Yeah. She did talk a lot about True Life while at din…ner.” Teddy clipped her lips together, catching her slip. 

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.” His tone carried a smug edge, making her huff in annoyance.  “So, how ‘bout you tell me how much I owe you for it?” 

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Teddy,” he warned. Still, she insistently shook her head, refusing to make things easy for him. 

“Sorry, but I can’t let you pay me back,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right.” 

“Really? How come?” 

She straightened her posture, the brown leather groaning underneath her. “Well, for one - it was my decision to take her there, wasn’t it?” 

“So?” 

“So, it doesn’t make sense for you to have to pay for something I decided, now does it?” 

Joel licked his teeth at her loop-hole logic. She was eyeing him with a very serious expression, as if this wasn’t over 30? 35 bucks? Hell, there was probably enough in his wallet right now to cover it. 

If this were anyone else, Joel would’ve already said fuck this and drained his wallet of every nickel and dime, just to be safe. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer because he didn’t need anyone’s help or handout. He made enough money to support not only himself, but his daughter perfectly fine. Thank you. 

But this wasn’t just anyone – this was Teddy. Whether it was because she did his payroll or because she was so bullheaded, he didn’t know, but she had a funny way of making him fold. 

“Secondly.” She lifted a second finger before he could raise the white flag. “It wouldn’t be right for you to pay me back for your own gift.” 

Huh? “Gift?” 

She hummed in response. “There might be a little early birthday present waiting for you in the fridge.” 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone, other than Sarah, got him a birthday present. Most of the time, not even Tommy did; his presence was the present or whatever bullshit he said. But she’d thought of him. Him. The idea made his chest begin to swell like metal on a blazing summer day. He ducked his head to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. 

“You didn’t need to get me any-” 

Teddy grasped his arm, instantly turning the rest of his sentence into sawdust. His gaze flickered from her hand on his forearm, to her eyes. She really was beautiful, especially in the warm pool of lamp light in his living room. 

“I wanted to,” she assured him with a voice as soft as her touch. Her thumb gently skimmed over his arm hair and he held back a shiver with the clench of his teeth. “It’s just Classic Vanilla Bean Cheesecake. A little boring, but Sarah said that’s your favorite.”

“It is.” His voice cracked like a pre-teen and embaressed, he averted his eyes. How ridiculous. He needed to get a grip. Pull himself together. He was acting like a fucking virgin. Joel swallowed and stiffly nodded. “Thank you.” 

She gave his arm a small squeeze before pulling away. The spot where she touched him still tingled, still burned. 

“It’s the least I could do, since I’ll be missing it.” 

Joel brushed her off with an easy wave of his hand. Other than work, he didn’t have any plans, so she really wasn’t missing anything. “I think you’ll have more fun in Phoenix, anyway.” 

“Just don’t let Tommy set the place on fire while I’m gone.” 

“Do you have that little faith in me?” he asked – teased. It was only a few days. Leaving Thursday, back in the office by the following. 

She lightly nudged his arm, just as a door opened. 

“Are you ready?” Sarah called out, and his focus shifted to the bottom of the stairs. 

“I was born ready, kiddo. So, come on, let’s see it.” Joel drummed his hands excitedly against his thighs. 

Waiting there reminded him of the fashion shows she used to put on for him. She’d wait at the top of the stairs until he popped in the Whitney Houston CD. For the big finale, they would dance around the living room to I Wanna Dance With Somebody. 

But Sarah didn’t appear in a bright-pink princess costume, but instead a pretty little purple dress. Her heels were real, not made out of cheap plastic or from the Dollar Tree. His little girl looked so grown up. The realization that she was grown up made the back of his eyes burn. 

Joel scrubbed a hand down his slack, scruffy jaw, watching Sarah twist from side-to-side. The shiny material swished around her knees. 

“Baby girl, you look - beautiful,” he said without trying to hide the crackle in his voice. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Sarah giggled, almost bashfully. “That’s exactly what Teddy said.” 

“Well, that’s because it’s the truth,” Teddy stated earnestly. Sarah’s entire face lit up and God –  she had such a killer smile. He would never get tired of seeing it.

When Sarah pulled back her hair to show Teddy two different pairs of earrings, she immediately went over to get a closer look. 

Discussing jewelry and lip gloss, Sarah’s shiny wide eyes clung to her every word as if it was wrapped in gold, as if it held some infinite wisdom. It suddenly hit him that he’d never seen Sarah look at anyone like that. Not her favorite teacher. Not her best friend’s mom. Not even Mrs. Adler who lived next door and used to babysit her after school. 

Poor Mrs. Adler, she meant well but Sarah and her could not have been more different. Thinking about it, Teddy was the first woman that Sarah shared anything in common with, who she didn’t have to share with the rest of the class or came second to a friend. 

For once, Sarah had some special bond for herself. 

His breath caught in his throat watching Teddy fuss with Sarah’s dress. Her eyes barely leaving Sarah’s bright face as she untwisted a strap and smoothed out a few spots in the back. For a second, he imagined her here with them every night – thought about how seamlessly she would fit into their lives. 

Holy shit - what the fuck is he doing? Stop it. 

Joel forced himself to look away, pruning those thoughts before they grew. The light, liquid warmth in his chest ran cold. It turned into mercury when it settled in his belly. 

Luckily, Sarah and Teddy were too preoccupied with finishing details to notice him obsessively picking at his fingernails. He didn’t know what got a hold of him.

This was insane. She was his friend, his business partner, and whatever she was to Sarah that was more important than a stupid crush. No – he would not complicate a good thing with his feelings. Feelings she didn’t reciprocate. For God sake, she was dating someone else. Get over it. 

Joel thought it might be a good thing that Teddy would be gone for a few days. More than ever, he needed some distance. Some time to help screw his head back on straight. 

—

Too early on Tuesday morning, Joel sleepily fought the coffee machine until dark liquid gurgled and spewed into the pot. 

“Have you heard from Teddy at all?” Tommy asked as Joel filled up a to-go cup. 

“Oh yeah, hear from her every night before going to sleep.” 

“Really?” 

Joel shoved the coffee pot back inside its home, and blinked at Tommy. “Of course not. She’s on vacation. Why would she call me?” 

He figured she’d brought whoever she was dating on the trip with her. They were probably going to her cousin’s wedding, meeting her college roommates new baby while he was here - in Texas. Alone. When he thought about it like that, it put everything into some much needed perspective. 

Joel didn’t give Tommy a chance to respond before barging out and heading to the garage. He still was not used to seeing her empty desk instead of her warm smile, telling him to have a good day. 

“So, do you miss her, yet?” Tommy asked while loading up the truck. 

“She’s only been gone a few days,” Joel snorted, as if it was a ridiculous question to ask. “Why? Do you miss her?” 

“Miss her coffee, that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced at the cup before taking a tentative sip. “Shit sucks. You add too much water.” 

“I’d like to see you do any better.” Joel obnoxiously slurped on his drink, then winced. It did kinda taste like dirt. “She does make it better,” he conceded. “It’ll be nice to have her back.” 

The distance had been a good thing for him, though. It was much easier for him to think without her dizzying perfume. What happened in his living room had been just a moment of weakness, of panic. Blown completely out of proportion. 

The thing was – he’d always had a crush on her. It was nothing new, and he was perfectly happy with just this. With never being anything more than friends – her in his life, that was enough for him. 

It had to be. 

“Well, speaking of Thursday.” Tommy spoke in a tone that almost always meant he wanted something. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I gotta leave work early that day.” 

“Why? Got an appointment or something?” 

Tommy shook his head, then spewed a sob story that lasted nearly the entire drive to the site. His buddy Aaron had just broken up with his cheating girlfriend, and needed help moving out of their apartment. Too bad it wasn’t a different one of Tommy's military buddies or Joel would’ve immediately said no, but Aaron actually wasn’t a douchebag. 

“Well, what time would you leave? Cause we gotta finish that block by Friday-”

“She works the night shift, so not until like 3 or 4,” he said, swaying him further. “And Aaron said he’ll pick me up from the site, so you ain’t gotta do anything.” 

Joel shrugged, whatever. Fine. They would just have to work late tonight and tomorrow. 

—-

So far, Thursday had not gone at all like Joel had anticipated. His reunion with Teddy this morning was disappointingly quick. It wasn’t like he expected her to run into his arms and hug him or anything dramatic like that, but he did think it would be more than just a few minutes of small talk where Tommy dominated most of the conversation with his plans for later. 

Which turned out to be total bullshit by the way. 3 to 4 ended up being more like 1:30, ruining his chance to see Teddy this evening. The inspectors would be here tomorrow morning, so the frame had to be finished tonight with or without an extra set of hands. 

Now, at 6:30, Joel was just leaving the site. He picked up Wendy’s to make up for his crummy day, only for the burger to be loaded with pickles and onions when he specifically asked for ketchup only. He still scarfed it down, along with a medium dry on the drive back to shop where the only thing that would be waiting for him was an empty office and a fat-ass stack of paperwork. Some supply sheets that could hopefully be knocked out before Sarah needed to be picked up later. 

He pulled in through the back entrance and was taking his sweet time unloading the truck. Lowly humming Wedding Bells by the great Hank Williams when the door opened with a screech. The sound echoed around the steel walls of the garage and he jerked, nearly dropping a nail gun on his foot. Somehow, he managed to catch it just before it slid off the rack. 

He turned around and - “Teddy?” 

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she said in a sweet drawl that made his pulse race for an entirely different reason. 

He stared at her dumbly, blinking rapidly to make sure this was not just his imagination. She was still here. He wet his throat with a hard swallow. “You surprised me.” 

“I can tell.” She giggled and embarrassment swarmed his neck like fire ants. He couldn’t believe she just witnessed him flail around like an idiot. He promptly went back to gathering up the last of the wooden boards and stacking them in the corner. “Did you not see my car out front?” 

“I came in off 77th,” he explained, brushing the dust from his hands onto his jeans. 

“I could’ve helped.” She leaned against the door, opening it wider as he walked over. 

“Nah, I got it,” he said with a casual shake of his head. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin that shirt, anyway.” His eyes dipped over the satiny material, this time a deep maroon.

“It is a great shirt.” She playfully bumped into his side with her shoulder when he stepped inside. The delicious scent of her soap sent an electric jolt up his spine. He matched her steps down the hallway. “What’re you still doing here anyway?” 

“Well, there’s the Fox Ridge pitch tomorrow and there’s two more next week. And I have been gone for like a week.” She tucked herself back behind her desk. “Remember?” 

Oh yeah, he remembered. 

For a few minutes, they caught up on work and talked about homecoming, which was Saturday, and Sarah, who was currently at her friend’s house making posters or whatever for the big game tomorrow. He asked if she enjoyed her trip, which she obviously did from the glow around her. He almost asked about the wedding until he noticed all the files on her desk, the neat stacks of paper labeled with post-it notes that clearly showed she was busy. 

He decided not to be selfish and take up anymore of her time and instead went into his office. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” she told him before he closed the door. He left it slightly cracked in a way that seemed inviting before taking a seat at his desk. He would’ve just left it wide open if he thought it would be possible to focus. But even the back of her head could be enough to distract him. 

Just like the rest of the shop, his office had been recorated by Teddy when Danny retired. He’d actually offered her the office, multiple times, but she refused. She preferred the natural light in the front, and he couldn’t blame her when the one window in here was puny and overlooked the trash cans. 

Without her, Joel would’ve left the walls as blank and as white as Danny, the bookshelves just as bare and dusty, and there wouldn’t be a single lamp, let alone two. But he definitely appreciated the lamps this late in the day when the overhead light would burn too loud and bright. 

Supposedly, she’d gotten them for free from a friend that was moving. He’d believed the story, at first, until one day she showed up with a giant picture of Yellowstone River, two more of different landscapes. A Golden forest. A mountain range. She’d just stumbled upon them at a Goodwill for the same price as a pizza. And then she’d filled the bookcases that framed his desk with architectural books that would likely never be read and tiny fake plants, which he couldn’t kill. Those she’d claimed were found at a garage sale for the magical price of a gift card to her favorite nearby lunch spot. 

She would’ve decorated the office for her dad if he would’ve let her. Danny didn’t care though if she found the space so depressing when it came down to money. But Joel could not find it in him to tell her no when she looked so damn pleased with herself afterwards. She’d done such a nice job that he wished he could use the office more. One day he probably would when Sarah moved out. He had a love-hate relationship with being home alone. The quiet could be peaceful, then other times forlorn. 

After finishing up two supply lists for upcoming projects, Joel went to start on a third when his door jarred open with a soft knock. Teddy was hovering around the threshold with a file in one hand. 

“Are you busy?” 

Joel shook his head, shoving the folder aside then signaling her to come in. She stepped inside, nudging the door shut with her hip. It didn’t latch. No one else was here, otherwise he would’ve pointed it out. But he didn’t know why she shut it in the first place, honestly. 

“Sorry to bother you-” 

“You’re not bothering me,” he interrupted. “What can I do for you?” 

“It’s the Fox Ridge pitch.” She sauntered over to his desk, hips swaying and squeezed into a pair of black jeans. Her shirt was gaping open in the front from the top two buttons being left undone and wasn’t it just one earlier? It was always one, right? 

He realized it would’ve been easy to catch a peek of her bra when she bent over to hand him the file, but like a good person – like a good friend – he looked away. His gaze remained firmly fused to her face until she sat down in the chair across from him. 

She wanted his thoughts on the pitch, and he agreed to take a look. Based on the first page it looked perfect, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be much help. After all, she was the brains of the operation where he was just the muscle. 

“So, how was the wedding?” Joel flipped onto the next page without looking up. “Your cousin’s right?” 

“Good memory.” She hummed, sounding pleasantly surprised. Her nails clicked along the steel arm of the chair. “But yeah, the wedding was… it was nice.” 

“Was it?” Joel glanced up at her with a suspiciously quirked brow. “Cause, you ain’t gotta lie to me. I won’t tell.” 

She clicked her tongue as if her reluctant tone wasn’t what led him to such a conclusion.

“I’m not lying, it was really nice. A lot of family that I haven’t seen in a while was there. And my cousin has amazing taste, so the wedding was gorgeous. It was small and intimate, but.” She let out a big breath. “It’s just everyone except my dad and I had dates.” 

“Did you not bring your-” Too late, the words had poured out before he could think twice and he cursed his stupid, overly curious mind. He had no idea what to say to cover up his lapse, so he just didn’t. It just hung in the air and he turned to the next page without reading the last. 

“Bring my what, Joel?” Her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question. He peered up at her and she looked him directly in the eyes. It was as if she knew what he was going to say. It was as if she wanted him to ask. 

Joel screwed the blue pen into his grip. “I thought - I thought you had a boyfriend.” 

At that, she reclined back in the chair. She crossed her legs and tilted her head as if to study him. “What made you think I have a boyfriend?” she asked with such wild amusement that it confused him. 

Didn’t she? Tommy had seen the card, the flowers as well, so it wasn’t something he just made up in his head. She was or used to be dating someone. Oh – maybe it wasn’t a boyfriend, but a girlfriend. Not that he was about to ask. God no. He’d butted into her personal life enough for one night. 

“Well, you know.” Joel scratched the back of his head, then pointed in the direction of the break room. “There were those flowers, remember?” 

Her eyes widened – her lips parted. “Yeah, I remember. I just, I guess I didn’t think you would.” 

“Well, it ain’t everyday someone gets a garden delivered here.” He meant it as a joke, but it came off rather jealous. He tacked on a chuckle for good measure. She snorted, so it must’ve worked. 

“Okay fair. I was dating someone, but that’s over. Been over. We broke up like 4 months ago? So, not long after that, actually.” 

Joel grimaced. He could barely focus on her being single when he felt like shit. No one wanted to be reminded of their ex. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” She brushed off like it was no big deal. 

Still, he remained silent as the grave because what the hell was he supposed to say now? 

“I was the one who ended things, just in case that makes you feel better.” Of course she was. No one in their right mind would break up with someone as amazing as her. “But since we’re on the topic and all - what about you, Joel?” 

“What about me?” Joel finally met her eyes and her lips twisted into a mischievous smirk that made his stomach swoop. 

“Do you have anyone special in your life?”

Joel stiffly shook his head. “Can’t say I do.”  

“Anyone not special?” she nudged him, suggestively wiggling her brows. 

Again – a shake of his head. “I don’t really date.” 

“What a shame.” Her voice was almost husky, breathy. She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sure all the single mom’s at Sarah’s school are devastated.”��

Joel batted his hand in the air with an ugly snort. 

“What? I’m serious,” she said without twitching. Her eyes momentarily flickered towards his lips, and suddenly, his throat felt like the mostly burnt bagel he had for breakfast. “I bet you have all of them wrapped around your finger.” 

“You’re just - you’re just saying that.” 

“Am I?” Her voice was silky, even silkier than her shirt. There was a cool confidence radiating from her as her fingernails galloped in a slow rhythm along the arm rest. 

She was staring at him, pinning him against his seat. The hair on his thighs lifted and tickled the denim. The energy in the room had shifted, the air between them had bent and blurred into something that Joel could not quite describe. But he could feel it, sense it when it surged and rippled between them and sent an electric shiver up his spine. 

She licked her lips and rolled them together until they were shiny with her spit. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal trapped and he wanted to pounce over the desk and taste her spit. He nearly did until he felt a stirring in his jeans. 

What the hell was going on? What was he thinking? He needed to get his head screwed back on straight before he did something incredibly stupid. 

Joel shot from his chair like a firework. Abrupt and loud and white-hot. He turned away and towards the filing cabinets on the back wall. He didn’t have a plan, but there had to be something in there that he could pretend to need. 

She was quicker than his flustered brain and rose to her feet before he could make it past the edge of his desk. 

“Joel.”

It stopped him, his feet stuck to the floor like wet cement. She approached him like a frightened deer. Steady. So quiet. Her steps barely scratched against the cheap carpet. 

Joel realized now, right now was the time to speak. To say something. Anything. Find an excuse. Stop standing here like a dumb-struck baboon. But there was only one word that managed to leave his lips, a breath - 

“Teddy.” 

“It’s okay,” she whispered into the shrinking space between them. “I know.” 

I know? He had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but before he could ask – she cradled the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his. Joel’s eyes widened and all he could see was the soft planes of her face, her fluttering eyelids, the fan of her raven-stroke lashes. 

She was kissing him. Holy shit. She was actually kissing him. When he finally registered that, he closed his eyes and was overcome by the taste of her spit and a hint of Burt’s Bees chapstick, which he found oddly arousing. 

For a moment, he was too damn stunned to do anything but move his mouth along hers. Then, he realized his arms were hanging like spaghetti noodles at his side and reached out and clutched onto her waist. His thumbs delicately swirled the fabric of her shirt. So damn smooth, just as he expected. 

Joel gulped when she drew back, just far enough to meet his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck this was – let along if it was anything at all. Perhaps, this was it. Just a stolen kiss, late one night in his office. 

Joel braced himself for her to yank away, to tell him it was a mistake, that she didn’t know what she was thinking. Let’s forget the whole thing. 

But she didn’t. 

She just continued to toy with the curly ends of his hair, twirling them around her fingers as her other hand fisted the loose collar of his shirt. He was wedged between her warm-heaving body and his desk. The edge was slightly burrowing into his lower back, but currently he couldn’t care less. 

Her gaze dipped to where his jeans were painfully tented. A hot burst of shame ignited behind his earlobes. The flex of his fingers bit into the hollow below her ribs. 

“It’s - it’s been a while,” he found himself explaining because there was no good reason, at his age, to be this turned on from just kissing. 

“Do you want me to stop?” She slid up against him, sealing herself against his chest. It appeared she knew the answer before he could dumbly shake his head. 

This time – his lips met hers somewhere in the middle. Where the first kiss was gentle, testing the waters like the first sip of fresh coffee, this one was deeper. More intense – a whole gulp. Her urgent lips captured his starstruck mouth and right then he knew nothing, no one, would ever compare to this. Not even close. 

The way she kissed was like some special art form that only she could master. It felt so damn good to have her fingers molding through his hair with baby scratches over his scalp and the scent of her soap flooding his chest with heat. It consumed him, his body, his mind. The rapid pulse in his ears muted his every coherent thought.

When she gently nibbled on his bottom lip, he moaned – Teddy. She licked her name from his lips, then eagerly tasted it on his tongue as if she couldn’t get enough. 

And oh God – her tongue was equally as impressive as her other skills. The tip of it dragged over his top palate, making it tingle like a buzz off tequila. She stroked and swirled and twisted around his tongue as if knotting a cherry stem. No one had ever taken the time to explore him so thoroughly. Frankly, he didn’t know there was that much of his mouth to explore. 

Despite her exploration, Joel’s hands were burning into her waist, still holding her at 10 and 2 like a student driver. Like this was a chaperoned middle school dance. Slowly he roamed them down to grip her hips, but no further. He didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want to spoil this moment from something stupid like getting too greedy. 

Joel was fully okay with her in the driver seat. Even though he was usually in charge, he was happily letting her lead. Well, actually, he didn’t know if he was really letting her or if she just was. He didn’t care either way when she was touching him. 

She broke the kiss and her lips swerved to his cheek. His jaw, paying extra attention to the patch in his beard where no hair could grow. His head tipped back when she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and deeply inhaled. After a hard-days work he likely smelled of sweat instead of his soap, but she groaned anyway. 

“Have you ever thought about this before?” She breathed against his neck. 

“I mean, I-” He choked on his words as her tongue slicked over the thick vein beneath his jaw. “I - I tried not to.” 

“But you did.” He could feel her lips split into a grin before she sucked on a spot below his ear. He hoped it would leave a mark. The idea of seeing it tomorrow in the mirror made his cock twitch and throb and it ached. 

“Uh-huh,” he whimpered, rather pathetically. It actually sounded like it fucking hurt. 

“You know what?” She playfully nipped at the spot that would soon sadly fade. She then met his gaze with a coy grin. I thought about you too.” 

“You did?” he croaked. 

She hummed in response, her fingers trailing down his chest. His stomach quivered, his breath catching before she stopped just above the band of his jeans and whispered, “But unlike you - I didn’t try to stop.” 

Joel growled, unable to form a coherent thought. His brain was too preoccupied trying to process how any of this was happening. It had to be a dream or an optical illusion or some shit. No way it could be real. But her small hand cupped his cock and that certainly felt real. 

“Fuck - you feel even bigger than I imagined.” She palmed at his bulge with a light pressure. His knees nearly buckled despite the thick, denim barrier. 

Now, he was really wishing he jerked off last night – or anytime in the past week or so. God – he was pent up. It wouldn’t take much for him to break. 

“Can I see it?” 

Joel’s mouth went half-slack and she blinked at him without flinching. 

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. Not great, but at least coherent. 

She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his. Pretty. Pretty. So damn pretty. Those two undone buttons exposed the tops of her breasts, the peek of a plain white bra that he found sexier than he should’ve. 

His restless hands found solid ground on the desk behind him. Just in time as she balled the hem of his shirt in her tiny fists and bunched it towards his waist. The office air blew cool over his newly bare skin. 

Joel wondered how he compared to the type of guy she usually dated. Did she like meatheads with six packs? Or guys with scrawny arms? Or did she like them somewhere in the middle; someone more like him? His body used to be more solid in his 20’s, but softened with age. He was still strong though, still firm in most spots aside from his stomach. 

He caught himself sucking in as her wild eyes wandered over his husk-tan skin and across the dark scatter of hair around his navel. Then, she devoured it, mapping every inch with her wet, hot mouth. 

It was a miracle that he managed to stay upright under her attention. Any attention was new. He was not used to any teasing or foreplay or whatever delicious torture this was called. 

No. 

Joel was used to his own calloused hands. Quick, rough fucks with women who called him Joe or Jack or something else entirely because why did it matter if it meant nothing. 

But did this mean anything? To him, yes. To her – he had no clue. Dear God – he hoped so, though. 

With a smirk she unzipped his jeans and shoved them down by his knees. The wet spot on his boxers was impossible to miss. Of course, he’d worn light gray today instead of something discreet like black. 

“It’s been awhile,” he sheepishly reminded her. He didn’t want her to think he was always this big of a mess. Because he wasn’t. Seriously, he really wasn’t. 

“It’s alright, just relax.” She leaned forward and mouthed at the stain. 

But it was impossible to relax when her nose nudged the underside of his cock, her mouth was so close to the tip that every muscle in his body tightened. He gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring with the remnants of his dwindling self-control. 

She must’ve realized she was ruining him because she pulled back with a wicked grin. She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and tugged. His freed cock nearly smacked her in the face. The flush red tip was weeping. 

“Shit, you’re thick,” she gasped. Women had told him that before, but he much preferred hearing it from her. The sweet honesty in her voice, the clear surprise. It stroked his ego and filled him with a strange sense of pride as if he’d actually accomplished anything profound, and not just good genetics. 

She licked and spit into her palm before stroking his cock with a loose fist from root to tip. Her thumb swiped over the blunt head, smearing his pre-come and making his hips jerk and involuntary spasm. 

Joel opened his mouth to apologize, but was quickly silenced by her tongue: warm, wet, the slightly rough texture tracing over the thick vein that ran down his length. 

He gripped the desk until his knuckles bleached. She placed her free hand on his hip as if to help steady him before guiding him between her perfect, plush lips. Just the tip, at first. But it still was nearly enough to finish him. He didn’t remember the last time someone put their mouth on him. 

Joel desperately wished to witness this moment. He wanted to memorize the glossy gleam in her eyes, the way she looked in front of him and on her knees and how her mouth stretched perfectly around his cock. But it was too much. The weight between his thighs was becoming oppressive. If he watched, he’d shatter. And he’d be horrified if he finished that fast. 

So, he focused on the ceiling tiles instead. On the black specks that formed different shapes as she took another inch of him into her feverish mouth. 

Already, she had him panting like a dog. Unable to fully catch his breath even when she released his cock with a loud pop. She continued to pleasure him with long strokes of her fist. Her tongue dipped into his leaking slit, lighting up nerve endings that he didn’t know existed. It ripped an ungodly sound from his mouth. 

“Oh, you liked that?” she asked, very smug. Then repeated the movement once, twice, before eagerly swallowing his cock again. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hand flew to her shoulder and squeezed as she took him deeper – deeper. Holy shit. Where did she learn to do this? This was like pornstar level good. 

She had taken him halfway down her throat when he felt a shock run across his spine, a familiar tugging in his balls. His release was building and brewing in his lower belly like a thunderstorm. 

But Joel clenched his teeth. No – he could not come. Not yet. He needed to get himself under control before he finished in less than five minutes. 

He shut his eyes, but not even the rumble of his eardrums could drown out the loud, lewd squelch of her mouth. It was fucking filthy. The swirl of her expert tongue around his shaft had him unraveling fast like a loose spool of thread. 

“Teddy,” he moaned her name as he got close – too damn close. 

He tried to tell her to slow down, but the words stuck in his throat. Nothing came out except grunts. Just short groans. Her lips kissed the cusp of her fist, completely engulfing him in her honey-slobber and the softness of her hand. 

His hips instinctively bucked, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat and she gagged. The walls of her inner mouth shuddered and pulsed around him and – 

“Shit.” His eyes flew open but before he could warn her – she hollowed her cheeks and sucked. 

He groaned her name, low and unrestrained, as the pleasure electrified his spine. It arced down his thighs before he could push her off. For a moment, he lost himself in the high, in the tide of her mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed on her tongue as he came. 

Hard. 

As if he hadn’t come in months – years. 

In a daze, he blinked down at her and saw his cum dripping down her chin, leaking from the corners of her mouth as she continued to twist her fist and suck down the aftershocks. It would’ve been easily the most erotic sight, if it didn’t suddenly hit him how fast he came. 

The light-headed euphoria quickly morphed into vertigo. He was horrified, mortified, staring down at her. 

He didn’t know what to say, and for once, it seemed like neither did she. She released his cock from her mouth, but otherwise didn’t move. Not even to wipe the come off her face. 

She swallowed, and opened her mouth. But a familiar ding tore through the thick, sticky air. The bell above the front door. 

“Joel? Teddy?” 

No way. It was motherfucking Tommy. 

—-

The idiot had forgotten his house keys in Joel’s truck. In the cupholder, nonetheless. 

Joel had somehow managed to button his jeans, and hand her a tissue before Tommy busted into his office. She’d pretend to blow her nose to clean the come off her face, riddling him with another level of shame. So embarrassed that he could barely look at her without feeling like he swallowed a handful of nails. 

He threw Tommy the car keys to get rid of him, but found out that Aaron had  left. Tommy had told him that Joel could just drive him home without even asking. And usually it wouldn’t be a big deal. 

But Tommy was so goddamn clueless. He just swung around the door frame, blabbering about how the girlfriend showed up and there was a big blow up in the parking lot and Joel was just waiting for him to notice the smell of sex and sweat or even the cloying embarrassment. Or Teddy’s swollen and suck-plump lips and surely Joel looked like a flushed-beet wreck. 

So how did Tommy seem to remain completely oblivious? 

When Sarah called a few minutes later, Joel left. Well, first he made sure everything was locked up and she was safely in her car, but otherwise fled like a coward. 

The shop had officially disappeared from his rear view mirror and now Joel couldn’t remember if he even told her goodbye. She just gave him the best blow job of his life, and he couldn’t even wave? 

“Are you gonna get Sarah or drop me off first?” Tommy asked and Joel snapped at him like a venus fly trap. 

“Doesn’t really make sense to go out of my way just to drop you off first, now does it?” 

Tommy threw up his hands. “Well, fuck. How am I supposed to know where Sarah’s friend lives?” He hurled himself against the passenger seat and mumbled under his breath, “Asshole.” 

Joel winced. He was kinda being an asshole, taking out his anger on Tommy. He wasn’t even mad at Tommy. Annoyed, yes, but not mad. The only person Joel was mad at here was himself. 

He was mad at himself for cumming too fast, and even more so for running away afterwards like a scared hound with his soft, spent cock tucked between his legs. Recalling the complete shit show, Joel’s grip coiled around the steering wheel until the leather squealed in protest. He could still feel the ring of her spit drying around him. 

Joel sighed and stared out the windshield at the night sky, the truck bouncing along the uneven back road full of potholes. Why did it feel like he just fucked everything up? 

“Hey, are you alright?” Tommy’s voice was lower, quiet – concerned. 

Joel scratched at his jaw, at the bald patch she’d kissed, before nodding his head. 

“Yeah, sorry - I’m just tired.” He’d rather die and be reincarnated into a gnat than tell Tommy about how he just prematurely ejaculated. He’d had enough embarrassment for one night. 

“Did I-” Tommy paused and for a moment it seemed like he decided to keep his mouth shut. Until he sighed. “I don’t know, but did I interrupt something between you and Teddy?” 

A little too late to start being observant, Tommy. 

Joel approached a red light, the truck crawling to a complete stop. 

“Come on. What would be going on between us that you could interrupt?” Joel looked over at Tommy and his brows were furrowed. In the pool of orange light from the street lamps that speckled the cab, Joel saw the realization flash across Tommy’s face. The moment everything clicked into place. 

Joel abruptly turned away, not in the mood for pity. After what felt like forever, the light finally turned green. 

“Joel, I didn’t realize that you-” 

“Don’t.” His voice was quiet, stern without being rude. “Just don’t.” 

For once, Tommy didn’t demand to have the last word. Instead, he slowly and silently fell back into the seat as if to fade into the shadows. She still had a boyfriend as far as Tommy knew, and Joel would not be informing him otherwise. This way was easier. 

The rest of the drive was filled with Willie Nelson’s album Always on My Mind, the rumble of the engine, and the buzzing of Joel’s thoughts. 

How was he supposed to face her tomorrow? 

—-

On Friday morning, Joel drove to the shop with a terrible pit in his stomach. His eyes felt gritty, and there was a dark shadow of gray underneath from a restless night sleep. He ate a bland piece of toast for breakfast, and even that made him feel sick. When he turned onto the street, he thought it might reappear all over the windshield. 

But Teddy was not there. Just a pink post-it note on the full, freshly brewed coffee pot. 

Fox Ridge pitch - Wish me luck. 

He’d forgotten that it was this early. Joel supposed he’d have to get here on time this evening to see her. 

Joel spent the day trying not to go insane. Despite the pounding of his hammer, memories of last night beat against his skull. Anytime he touched his lips, or the spot behind his ear, he could practically feel the ghost of her kisses. They had been desperate, heated. Hadn’t they? It had seemed she’d wanted him, just as much as he’d always wanted her. She’d even admitted to imagining him in some sexual way. 

But what about now? 

He didn’t have a clue. 

Eight hours later, and halfway from a complete tailspin, the truck decided not to start. The engine clicked and clicked and clicked, but never went. Even though he begged for it to start. The concrete guys had tried to jump it with no success. It’d taken everything in him not to sock Tommy in the jaw when he gave him that told-you-so look while calling a tow truck. 

The concrete guys were still on their best behavior and gave them a ride to the mechanic shop. It was run by one of Tommy’s highschool friends, Zach, who was nice enough to stick around past 5 on a Friday night. 

5:25 and this was a fucking nightmare. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to die. As if he hadn’t fucked up enough last night when he bolted, the last thing Joel wanted as her thinking that he was avoiding her. The least he could do was extend the same courtesy she had this morning. 

So midway through Tommy and Zach examining what was under the hood, he broke away to call her. 

Joel slapped his cellphone against the flat of his palm as he headed outside the entrance. With a deep breath he dialed the shop’s number. The ring-ring-ring in his ears made his chest feel like it was about to explode. 

“Teddy’s Company, how can I help you?”

“Hey Teddy.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Joel,” he said, very awkwardly. 

“Hey! Hi. What’s up?” 

Joel kicked at the loose rocks by his feet. “Well, the truck - uh the truck’s acting up. We had to get a tow, and Tommy and I are - the mechanic’s checking it over right now.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah, so I just wanted you to know - I don’t know when we’ll get back to the shop.” Joel lightly hit the center of his head with the circle of his clenched fist. He sounded like an idiot. 

“No - yeah. That makes sense.” Silence crackled on the other line and it was unbearable. 

Joel scratched his temple, unsure what to say next. He wanted to talk about last night, just to get it over with, but it wasn’t the right time. That was not a conversation to have over the phone. Not like at work was much better, but still. 

“Well,” Teddy broke the silence. There was a rustling of something on the other line – papers? Her bag? “Do you need-” 

There was a massive boom behind him – Tommy pounded on the glass door and motioned him inside. 

“What was that?” she asked and Joel mouthed at Tommy to give him a second. 

“Sorry, it’s Tommy. I think the mechanic’s done with the inspection.”

“Okay - well, I was just gonna ask if you guys-” 

Tommy banged again – harder. It was Friday, so he probably had a date with his favorite dive bar. Joel glared at him and flipped him off. 

“It sounds like you need to go,” she said. 

“Sorry.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and he was gonna kill Tommy. “But uh - have a nice weekend, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you too, Joel.” 

Once Joel found out the battery just needed to be replaced, Tommy’s pissy mood made a lot more sense. It would be a decently fast and easy fix – at most an hour. 

Joel plopped down in a chair in the lobby and mindlessly flipped through a car magazine. He didn’t even register the pictures that swished by, too busy reeling from that awkward phone call. 

Had he really told her to have a nice weekend? He wanted to melt into the cracks and scuffs in the black-and-white tiles. Real smooth, Joel. He sucked at this shit. 

What was going to happen next? 

He couldn’t tell where her head was at from the phone call that somehow didn’t even last as long as him last night. God – she probably thought he had some type of erectile dysfunction and he couldn’t even blame her. There was no excuse for a man at his age to cum that fast from a blow job, nonetheless. He was not a fucking teenager. 

The longer he sat there in the empty lobby with the melancholy of Johnny Cash’s voice, the more he began to doubt. It spread and swelled in his lower abdomen like a virus. Syphilis. If it festered for too long, he felt like it might turn him insane. 

He didn’t know how he would survive the weekend like this. 

— 

Saturday was usually his day for relaxing. All his responsibilities could wait until Sunday, but he couldn’t sit still. 

Up early, he and Sarah went to the Farmer’s Market and ran errands until lunch time. He deep cleaned the house in the afternoon. The entire main floor was vacuumed and swept, the kitchen counters looked brand new, and even his bed was freshly made with dryer warm sheets. He was determined to keep busy instead of wallowing in his looming conversation with Teddy. 

It might’ve worked if Sarah didn’t innocently keep bringing her up. With homecoming tonight, she was apparently in the mood to reminisce, especially after she’d gotten all dolled up. 

They were halfway to her friend Ashley’s house and the drive had been filled with Teddy. Their mall trip – the dress – the tiny details Teddy helped pick out. 

“I brought my polaroid camera.” Sarah pointed at her overnight bag in the backseat of his truck. “So, you can take a photo of me and show Teddy on Monday.” 

“Oh, yeah. She’ll like that.” Joel forced a smile as the hand of his knee flexed, biting into denim. 

He couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time Sarah mentioned her. Teddy would never cut Sarah out, he knew that, but things were bound to be different now. It couldn’t go back to what it used to be, not after she’d seen his cock and swallowed his come. The relationship would inevitably change between them. 

He just hoped their friendship could be somewhat salvaged. For Sarah’s sake, especially. 

Joel was able to push that out of his mind when they arrived at Ashley’s house. The Murphy’s had been nice enough to invite the entire group, including parents, to come over and take photos. He couldn’t imagine fitting 14 teenagers and their moms in his puny backyard where he could barely fit a playset. Luckily, the Murphy’s lived on a big, well-landscaped lot that backed up against a man-made lake, and not directly into a neighbor’s house. 

The few other dad’s who showed up were all huddled together under the covered patio with their eyes transfixed on the TV screen. The Longhorns were taking on the Wildcats. Still in the first quarter, so it wasn’t even a good game yet. 

Instead of cracking open a beer, Joel joined the mom’s by the rose bushes. 

“Oh my God, Joel. Sarah looks beautiful.”

“She’s gorgeous.” 

“Stunning.” 

They all complimented Joel as if his genes actually put up a fight. Sarah was Lisa’s exact twin. Even more so when her gorgeous thick curls were pulled back into a loose bun with a few loose strands framing her face. The mom’s were right though – Sarah did look beautiful. But then again, she always did; with or without all the glitter and make-up. 

Sarah’s date was a scrawny, soccer player with red hair who was her best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Eric. Joel could hardly believe his daughter was at an age to even have a date, even if it was just a set up. It made him feel incredibly old when the kid called him sir. 

Based on first impressions, Eric seemed nice enough. The kid took a few photos of Joel and Sarah together in front of the Mexican bush sage. The purple flowers were almost an exact match to Sarah’s dress. Joel had hoped that somebody would offer when he’d changed out of his dusty clothes earlier and into a different, slightly nicer white t-shirt and a pair of his best dark wash jeans. 

Still, while Joel wouldn’t threaten the kid with a fist or scare the shit out of him with a war story like Tommy would, Joel did give Eric the look – Don’t try anything, bud. When Joel shook his hand, it felt like wet paint. 

Good. 

Joel thanked the minivan moms for driving, Ashley’s mom for hosting the sleepover afterwards, while snapping enough pictures to fill up two of Sarah’s bulletin boards. 

“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he told Sarah one more time before hugging her goodbye. 

She promised to be good and handed him the developed Polaroid, specifically for Teddy. He stashed it safely away in the middle console of his truck then drove away. 

At home, an empty living room quietly greeted him. Not yet 6 P.M. – the sun continued to shine and slice through the curtains onto the beige carpet. Joel had no idea what to do with the rest of his evening. Football, he supposed. Maybe rent a movie – Ocean’s Eleven or Training Day, something Sarah had no interest in ever seeing. 

He whipped up a ham and cheese sandwich and cracked open a beer. Rather than eating alone at the dining room table, he set up on the couch and ate in the company of Longhorn football. 

It didn’t take long, not even halfway finished with his sandwich, before a Folgers commercial came on and he thought about Teddy. She never even used Folgers, but just coffee in general made him think of her. At this point, it was actually pathetic how everything reminded him of her.

For a few minutes, Joel debated on calling her and figuring this shit out already. This limbo was killing him. He even pulled out his phone from his back pocket, found her name in his contact list and let it taunt him, his thumb hovering over the call button for longer than he’d like to admit. 

But what would he say if she answered? 

It had been two days and he still had no clue. He was still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole situation. He wanted to handle it with care but it felt like holding a dandelion puff in his rough calloused hands. Inevitably, it would break and fall apart with something as simple as a gust of wind. Joel carelessly tossed his phone on the coffee table and groaned. 

At halftime, he went and cleaned off his empty plate in the sink. Using his hands always helped distract him. Maybe he needed a hobby. He could always play his guitar, finally learn Never Going Back Again. He’d always wanted to try out woodworking since it used to be his dad’s favorite pastime. 

Joel was drying off the dish when the doorbell rang. 

“Hold on,” he yelled, wiping off his hands with the rag. He didn’t know who that could be, but he’d bet everything in his wallet right now it was Tommy. He knew Sarah would be gone all night, and probably wanted to drag Joel to some bar across town for a wild night out. 

Joel was coming around to the idea of spending his night in a smoky, loud bar instead of cooped up in his house when he opened the door. It was definitely not his brother, not even close. 

“Teddy.” 

She was on his front porch in a pale blue sundress that instantly made his mouth water. The buttery light from the budding sunset sky behind her framed her silhouette. 

“Sorry to just stop by.” She smoothed down her dress and tugged at the hem. “But can I come in?” 

—-

She didn’t say why she was here when he let her inside, but he supposed she didn’t have to. 

It was actually Joel who broke the silence. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. His mom would lurch from her grave if he didn’t act like a good host. 

“Water,” she said with a small smile. “Tap’s fine.” 

It was a good thing she didn’t follow him into the kitchen. His hands were shaking so bad that he nearly dropped the glass on the tile floor. 

When he came back into the living room, she was sitting on the couch. He handed her the glass, his fingertips brushing over hers. She politely thanked him before taking a tentative sip. The cushion whined under his weight when he sat. These were the exact same spots from the night she was here with Sarah. This time, however, the empty cushion felt less like a safety net and more like a boulder about to crush him. 

He turned off the TV, the newfound silence giving further evidence of what happened the other night. 

She clinked the glass onto the coffee table, then clasped her hands stiffly in her lap. On the very edge of her seat, she looked ready to bolt at any moment. “I knew Sarah would be at the dance or, at least dinner.” 

“Yeah, dinner. I think the dance starts around 8,” he said and she nodded. He wished he would’ve remembered to bring the Polaroid inside. Maybe it would’ve helped ease the tension. 

But no – he needed to quit procrastinating and apologize for how he reacted the other night. 

Buck up – do it. 

For a moment, Joel searched for what to say, scratching the skin around his neck where it felt thickest. 

“Joel,” Teddy said before he could speak. She shifted in her seat and when she opened her mouth, he braced himself for her to call it nothing but a mistake. “I wanted to come by and apologize about the other night.” 

His brows furrowed. 

“Apologize?” 

“Yes, Joel,” she answered, very sternly. He noticed a pained look in her eyes before she stared down at her stark white tennis shoes. 

“What? I - what?” He sounded like a bumbling drunk and for once, he wished the right words would just come naturally to him. 

She sighed. 

“After our phone call yesterday,” she started, only stopping for a split-second to clasp her gold necklace between her fingers. “I feel like I might’ve pushed things too far the other night. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable-” 

“Uncomfortable? No. Shit.” Joel insistently shook his head. He would personally damn himself to hell if he sat here any longer and let her take any blame for this. Exhaling, he scruffed a hand over his jaw. “Look, I’ll admit - I panicked, but that ain’t on you.” 

“How is it not?” 

“Cause you did nothing wrong. Fuck. I’m the one who should be apologizing, alright? I acted like a goddamn idiot, Teddy. It’s just-” Joel let out a self-deprecating laugh, bashfully tucking his chin towards his chest. “I don’t usually, ya know - that fast. Just got embarrassed, that's all.” 

He absently rubbed at a patch of distressed leather on the arm of the couch. 

“Well, I never wanted to make you feel embarrassed.” She scooted closer – closer. Slowly. For what felt like the first time since the night in his office, Joel properly met her eyes. “All I wanted was to make you feel good, Joel.” Her voice was husky, almost seductive. She smirked and his heart banged inside his chest like a caged feral cat. 

“You did make me feel good,” he admitted, rather shyly. “Just wish I could’ve made you feel good, too.”  

“Who says you can’t?” Her eyes darted across his face, to his lips, to the rise and fall of his chest. She gripped his shoulders for balance before swinging her legs over him. Her knee lightly bumped into the arm of the couch and his hands instantly went to her hips, helping to steady her on his lap. 

Joel stared up at her dumbly for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. His thumbs toyed with the hem of her dress, bunching it up further until he could brush over the bare flesh of her thighs. Goddamn, she was so soft. So pretty. 

“What do you want, Joel?” 

Everything. “Whatever you’ll give me.” 

“No, Joel. What do you want?” 

The last two days – hell, the last two years bulldozed into him. Every feeling and thought he’d suppressed and ignored crashing into him like a wrecking ball. He’d spent so long convincing himself this would never happen, but now – everything he ever wanted and never thought he would have was right here. Right in his lap. 

And something inside him suddenly snapped. 

“You gotta know by now, Teddy. You gotta know.” The words spilled out of his mouth and he hated how it sounded. It didn’t make any sense. Joel shook his head and ran his hands down her thighs to lightly squeeze at the spot above her knees for stability. “Fuck, I ain’t any good at this shit,” he said, in a rare moment of vulnerability. 

She cupped his face so delicately like he was made of porcelain. With a small nudge, he met her gaze. 

“This is gonna sound very middle school, but do you like me, Joel?” she asked and he snorted. 

It did sound juvenile, but he instinctively tugged her closer and nodded his head. 

“Good. Cause I like you and I want you, Joel. Only you,” she said. “So what do you say? Wanna give this a shot?” 

“You fucking know I do.” His hand slid behind her neck, his thumb traced over the perfect curve of her hair line. “Now, come here.” 

When his lips met hers – it was desperate and sweet like cream soda. His mouth crashed against hers with every bottled up dream and fantasy of her mouth, her lips, her tongue. It surged hot and bright through him. 

His hand was a firm weight on the small of her back as he pulled her in as close as humanly possible, until only denim and a dainty sundress could separate him from her. 

She clutched onto his shirt collar before gently rocking her hips against his growing bulge. He tensed his thigh, catching on her panties. She whimpered, already so sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to learn all the sounds she made. 

He couldn’t fuck her on the couch, though. Not properly, at least. Definitely not like he wanted to or how she deserved. Still, he let himself enjoy this for a few minutes. Dry humping like teenagers in her parent’s basement before breaking the kiss with a soft peck to her top lip. 

“Would you wanna go upstairs?” He dragged the back of his hand over her thigh, his knuckles hiking up her dress to reveal a little more skin. 

“Oooh. Am I finally gonna see Joel Miller’s room?” She gave the tip of his nose a quick kiss before crawling off of him. 

She held his hands the entire way upstairs until he led her into his room. “Told you, you weren’t missing much.” 

“I don’t know about that.” She glanced at the navy blue walls, at the painting of a grazing deer in what appeared to be somewhere in Montana. It hung above his golden oak headboard. She pointed at the basic beige comforter, three pillows lined up against the frame. “I’m gonna be honest, though, I didn’t take you for the type to make your bed.” 

“I did a little cleaning today.” Joel shrugged as she kicked off her shoes by his laundry basket. 

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” 

Joel managed to only kiss her twice before getting on the bed. He scooted into the middle, using two pillows to prop and cushion his aging lower back. Again, she eagerly climbed over him. She yanked her dress over her head, leaving her in only a lacy black bra with a pair of matching panties that cut high on her hips. The tiny, pink flower on the waistband was just the cherry on top. 

She must’ve noticed the look on his face because she giggled as if she was completely innocent. “Do you like it? I wore it for you.” 

“Fuck me,” he murmured. “Look at you, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” His hands roamed from her ribs up to paw at her bra and he squeezed just hard enough to watch them pour out over the top. He growled from deep in his chest before shoving his face in between her breasts. He traced the lacy material with his tongue before kissing along his slick trail. “Can I take it off?” 

Smirking, she reached behind her and unclipped it for him. The bra joined her dress on the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips and admired her bare skin – the curves of her body in the coppery-golden glow from the sunset spilling in from the window. When he cupped her breasts, he swore they were made for his hands. His thumbs slid across her sensitive peaks, feather-light, but her breath still hitched – her head tip back and even the column of her neck was gorgeous. 

He replaced one of his thumbs with his tongue, flicking the tip of it over her nub again and again. Kitten licks that made her clutch the back of his head. The way her fingers rooted into his hair was almost possessive and she held him flush against her chest as he sucked her nipple into his needy mouth. 

Her breathing grew ragged and she tried to find friction. She rutted against him, but his hands captured her hips, holding her still before she could graze his cock. Too much dry humping and he’d be actually come in his pants like a teenager. 

“Be patient, sweetheart,” he murmured and she whined. He didn’t allow her another chance to complain before his mouth switched to her other breast and adored it with equal attention. It’d been ages since he took his time like this and he lost himself in the feeling of her soft, scented skin on his face. 

“Joel,” she moaned. It was desperate and raw and hands down the most erotic sound he’d ever heard in his life. It snapped him from his reverie and he grazed his teeth once more over her spit-swollen bud. 

“I know.” He petted her hips before cupping her sex. The lace was soaked and sticky around her cunt. 

Her hips bucked into the flat edge of his palm and for a moment, he watched her shamelessly ride his hand. Her brows furrowed – her fingers clutching his shirt for support. He was suddenly aware that he was completely dressed, and he found it strangely erotic. A part of him enjoyed it, maybe a little too much. 

“Let me take care of you.” He patted her on the hip before ordering her to lay back. She didn’t need to be told twice. 

Joel moved, so she could take his spot in the center of the bed. He tore off his t-shirt and threw it with her clothes. She watched him with glossy, moon eyes as he crawled between her spread open thighs. He captured her lips in a tender kiss before swerving to the swell of her cheek and down the slope of her neck. Gently, he nipped at her collarbone and she wiggled impatiently. 

But he still went slow when dragging the tip of his nose from her breasts and along her stomach where he placed a soft kiss above her belly button. 

When he settled back on his knees, he saw her chest rising and falling. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth and she was fisting the comforter. It was hard to believe she was really here, even as his fingers stroked her thigh. She was actually in his bed in nothing but soaked black panties. 

Joel laid down on his stomach, spreading her thighs even wider to make room for his broad shoulders. Face-to-face with her lace covered cunt, he could smell the sweet, primal musk. 

He sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling nervous. He enjoyed going down on women, but it had been awhile since he did anything more than just enough to get someone wet enough to take him. And he really wanted this to be good. 

It felt like it had to be good, after his last fuck up. 

“Joel? Are you okay?” She brushed back a tuft of hair that had fallen flat on his face. 

He shut his eyes but there was no hiding when his face was mere inches from her pussy. “It’s just been awhile.” 

“Well, we don’t-”

“No. God - I want to.” Joel groaned and dejectedly dropped his head against her thigh. He kissed at a mark above her knee. Her skin felt so warm against the stubble of his cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” 

A moan dripped from her lips as he mouthed his way to the dip where her thighs met her hips. His nose nudging along the elastic seam. 

“I’m not usually like this, but fuck - I wanna make you feel good.” He sucked at the spot directly above that damn tiny pink rose and her hips lifted off the bed, almost chasing his mouth. “Want you to know I can take care of you.” 

“You can - you can,” she practically chanted. “Just God. Please, Joel.” 

“Okay, I got you. It’s okay,” he whispered before peeling off her panties. He lifted the flimsy to his nose and inhaled without thinking. She smelled so delicious, musky, like sea salt and jasmine. He lost himself in her womanly scent and stuffed the fabric into his mouth and oh God – the taste. Dully sweet, a citrusy-tang that tingled his tongue. He devoured it. 

It wasn’t until her panties were licked clean that he came up for air. His eyes opened to find her staring at him. Her mouth gaping – pupils carbon-black. 

With a shy smile, he tossed the panties, now soaked with his spit, behind him. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she panted. “Fuck, that was hot.” 

He snorted. 

“Well, you taste damn good, sweetheart,” he said, situating himself comfortably between her thighs. Now, there was nothing, not even skimpy lace separating them. She was completely hairless, which was actually a first for him. Joel didn’t have a personal preference, though he did like how easily he could see how turned on she was. Her entire sex was swollen and glossy and perfect. Licking his lips, he peered up at her. “I wanna make you feel good, so let me know if you don’t like something, alright?” 

She quickly nodded, her chest hitching with anticipation. She wanted this. She did.

He kissed the top of her mound then experimentally licked her slit, keeping his tongue soft and flat. He deliberately stopped just before her clit, avoiding it. For now. He planned to build her up slowly, steady. Words had never come easy to him, so instead he’d show her what he could not articulate. 

Despite his own painful desire, his focus remained solely on her as he lapped at her cunt: He teased and nibbled and sucked on her folds. Letting her little sounds and sighs guide him to find her most sensitive spots. He didn’t know what he’d been so worried about before. Eating pussy was just like riding a bike. 

“More,” she pleaded, and how could he deny her after she’d been so patient? 

Her back arched when the tip of his nose grazed her clit. He smirked against her cunt, the pit in his belly stoked by how worked up she was. It fueled his confidence and his tongue swiped over her clit. She wound her fingers through his hair and tugged. 

Hard. 

And Oh – that did something to him. His cock twitched, or at least, tried to. Pack so tightly against the seam of his jeans. Again – he swallowed the urge to hump the sheets for some relief, snubbing his own arousal for hers. 

As he toyed with her clit, his fingertips skimmed over her slick, hot-heated sex. The thick bulb of his pointer finger caught on her entrance and she immediately clenched, as if trying to capture him. Greedy little thing. 

Still, he peered up at her for permission that she happily granted. He started out with one finger and inched inside her until he could not physically go any further. He cursed under his breath. She was warm and soaked and so tight. 

When finally he squeezed in a second finger, her knees slightly bowed. Even though she was wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance, he rocked into her slowly, mindful to let her adjust. He curled his fingers, trying a few different angles before finding that spongy spot. 

Immediately, she jerked with a deep, filthy moan. 

Got it. 

His fingers worked just as relentlessly as his tongue that was circling and swirling and flicking her clit. So responsive. Her walls spasmed around him as he thrusted into her a little harder. A little faster.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was as shaky as her thighs. He could feel her starting to swell under his tongue. 

Joel didn’t want to stop, but he needed to see her come apart. When he leaned back on his knees, her hand shot out. She latched onto his forearm with a death grip. 

“Wait! Wait! Joel!” Her voice was high-pitched. Frantic. Her cunt clenched furiously around his fingers as if she could not bear to let them go. “I’m almost there. I swear, I’m close.” 

She bore down, attempting to fuck his hand as if she needed to prove she was telling the truth. Like he could do nothing but sit here, and she could get herself off. Joel felt something ugly and bitter twinge in his chest. It made him wonder how often she was left high and dry and unsatisfied by the people she fucked. 

Well, not anymore. Not with him. 

Once his hand lightly pressed on her abdomen, she stopped. Her gaze found his. Her eyes glossy and wild and fucked out. It looked like the only thought in her head was how badly she needed to come. 

“Don’t worry, I ain’t done with you, sweetheart,” he assured her as his hand on her stomach moved lower and lower. “Just wanna see you when I make you come for the first time.”

A filthy moan split her lips when he circled her clit with his thumb. The panic on her face was instantly replaced with relief. Pleasure. She looked gorgeous on the verge of an orgasm. 

“Does this pretty little pussy feel good?” 

“Yes - yes - don’t stop,” she cried out. “I’m so close.” 

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it.” And he could. “I got you.” 

She moaned his name as she came undone underneath him. Her arousal was dripping down his knuckles and onto his sheets. He caught himself grinding into the air, desperately wishing it was his cock instead of his fingers making her come. 

Her clit pulsed under the pad of his thumb like a beating heart. Insatiable, he sucked the taste of her off his fingers then wiped his mouth. 

She drew him down into a sloppy, wet kiss. The painful bulge in his jeans catching on her bare flesh. By some miracle, though he didn’t burst right then and there. 

She pawed at his bare shoulders. “I need you,” she murmured against his lips that were still buzzing with her wetness. “Please Joel, I want you.” 

“Greedy,” he mumbled, grinning against her cheek. He gave her hip a playful pinch before jumping onto his feet. 

Quickly, he shed his jeans along with his pre-come stained boxer briefs. His cock was heavy. The head swollen into a furious shade of red, closer to purple than pink. 

The light outside was starting to fade into gauzy, gray dusk. So, Joel flipped on the bedside lamp before pulling out a fresh box of condoms from the nightstand. He tore through the plastic wrapping with his teeth, but slowed down when opening the tin-foil packet. 

“How do you want me?” She asked as he securely rolled on the condom. 

Up? Down? He didn’t care. “Surprise me.” 

She shot him a mischievous smirk before flipping onto her stomach. Rising onto all fours. This woman. He had no idea what she would pick, but his first guess never would’ve been doggy. 

He admired the dream-like curve of her spine and she invitingly wiggled her ass. Seemed she was trying to give him a heart attack. Did she know how sexy she was to him? She had to. She had to know what she did to him. 

“Is this okay?” she asked, and Joel growled his approval. He climbed in behind her and palmed at the plump flesh of her ass. 

She opened herself wider until he could see everything. “Shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, marveling at where her sex glistened with his spit and her orgasm.

Joel had to squeeze at the base of his cock before dragging the tip through her slick folds, all the way up to her puckered hole. Even that felt good. Almost too good. And he wasn’t even inside her, yet. 

Once Joel was lined up with her entrance, he noticed how small her cunt looked next to him and didn’t even try to push in. He questioned whether or not he could fit. It was just a fact that he was thick. Even though she was soaked, this would be a tight squeeze. 

Fuck. Now, he was really regretting only using two fingers instead of three. 

“Joel” she whined, but he still didn’t move. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“No, I can take it - I promise,” she whimpered. “Joel, please.” She tilted back against him, making it impossible to say no. 

“Okay. Alright,” he said soothingly, calmly rubbing the arc of her hip. “I’ll go slow.” 

And he did. For both his and her sake, he inched into the heat of her cunt. His gaze was welded to the painted deer above the headboard. Watching himself disappear inside her would’ve been too much. The feeling of her pulsing around him was already almost too much for him to handle. Without the condom, this would’ve been over before it could even begin.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re big,” she choked out, her walls fluttering around him. “I need - I need a second.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yeah – he needed one too. 

There was a long minute where the only sounds in the room were of his harsh breaths, her suppressed whimpers. Then, a slight creak of the bed. 

He leaned forward, his chest lightly pressed against her back. His arms caged in around hers, palms flat on the bed to help support his own weight as he draped over her body. 

“You feel so good.” His lips brushed over the top of her spine and she shivered. “I know it’s a lot. I want you to know it’s a lot for me too.” 

“Oh, Joel,” she mewled as he buried his face into her neck. She smelled and tasted just like salted caramel. 

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. So good.” He kissed behind her ear, along the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move now, alright?” 

“Please.” The word dripped from her lips – the only answer he needed. 

He stayed close to her, his breath puffing against her neck as he fucked into her. Nice and slow and tender, at first. She met his thrusts in perfect sync. Each one allowing him deeper and deeper inside her and he didn’t even know how that was possible. It was as if her pussy was molding to fit him, to take even more of him. It felt very intimate and overwhelming.

He thought if he was staring into her eyes that he might’ve cried. Sex had never felt like this before. Not with Lisa, not even when they accidentally made Sarah. If he was being honest, sex had always felt somewhat impersonal; stilted, distant, like a glory hole in a gas station, just minus the sketchy bathroom wall.

But here, right now with her – this felt sacred. He had no clue how he ever managed to live without this. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” Joel laid his damp forehead between her shoulder blades and picked up the pace. 

“Joel.” She gasped. His name seemed to be the only word she could say. It was as if he had completely consumed her. Her mind. Her body. Her every neuron. He kissed each vertebrae within reach, claiming more of her. 

More. 

“So damn long,” he answered. “And so fucking bad. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and look at you now, sweetheart. Just taking it. So good, just like I knew you would.” 

“Oh God, Joel.” 

He felt her shake, her arms appeared ready to give out and collapse. He wouldn’t let that happen. So, he widened his stance, the comforter bunching up around his knees. Carefully, but without warning, he fully pulled out and she wailed like it physically hurt. 

“I got you.” He shushed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and sealing her to his chest. “Come on, come here.” He guided her upright along with him and she groaned once the weight was off her arms. 

She sank back down on his cock instantly, her ass flush against his thighs. He felt even closer to her, somehow, in this position. Her skin was on fire, the sweat making her back stick to him like gum. Her pussy was drenched and dripping down his balls. 

He could feel her all over him. Everywhere. It amazed him how he managed to last this long.

Joel gripped her hip, his other hand went to cup her breast. When he gently rocked forward at the perfect angle, she clenched. 

“Goddamn.” He squeezed her breast, continuing to hit that same spot. “How are you so tight?” 

“It’s you, Joel.” She gasped. “No one - no one has ever been this deep.” 

The dormant, possessive part of his brain lit up and he growled. Joel buried himself to the hilt, until he could not claim another inch. No one but him had ever touched her here. 

Just him. 

Just him. 

Only him. 

His. 

She was soaking wet, white-hot, and he could feel himself throbbing inside her. Joel wanted to come so badly. The spicy-musk of her skin was swirling in his lower belly with a powerful, burning heat. On the brink of bursting. 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He pinched her nipple as his other hand went down to play with her clit. “I wanna make you come.” 

Her only response came in a whine, a frantic nod.

Joel thrusted into her with long, deep strokes that made the bed shake. The headboard hit the wall in a dull, rhythmic thud that filled the room. Just like her trembling, needy moans, his own low groans, and the heady-salt scent of sex. 

She threaded her fingers into his hair and haled his mouth toward hers. She kissed him, or more so, tried to. It was more of just lips devouring whatever was within reach: cheeks and chin and the curve of mouths. It wasn’t the best angle, but it didn’t matter. 

In this moment, nothing else mattered to him but her. 

Despite the tightness in his balls, Joel somehow held back his release. He gritted his teeth, burrowed his face into her neck, and quickly rubbed her clit. The high-pitched sound of his name lingered on her swollen lips as her walls squeezed around him like a fist. 

It wasn’t until her cunt was spasming around him that he finally drove forward. He was buried so deep inside her that he practically snarled when he came. 

He spilled into the condom, but pretended to be filling her up instead. He would watch his cum drool out of her, only to stuff it all back in with his fingers. 

Joel clutched her against him as his hips gave a few final jerks. He would have liked to stay inside her until he went completely soft, but the condom was overflowing. Cum or her slick or more likely a mix of both was soaking into the hair between his thighs. He decided not to test the durability of this specific condom brand. The last time he did that, well – it was obvious how that turned out. 

Holding the condom at the base, he slipped out of her and dropped onto his ass with a few pops and cracks. Damn, he really should stretch more.

His eyes fell to where her legs were spread and her sex was still gaping from him – for him. His mouth went dry. He wanted to lean over and quench his thirst, fill her with his tongu- 

“What’re you lookin’ at there?” The sound of her lilted voice made his gaze abruptly snap to her face. 

He must’ve been blushing because her lips split into a smug grin. Clearly, she knew what caught his attention. But even after two orgasms, she was still a little sassy. Still too damn perceptive for her own good, meanwhile he could barely form a coherent sentence. 

She straddled his thighs, careful to avoid his semi-soft cock. 

“It’s okay, you can look. I mean, it’s yours now, isn’t it?” Her soft, small voice cut through the post-sex fog in his brain. She was looking so vulnerable, so exposed, completely naked in his lap. Even he was more covered up than her, and all he had covering him was a flimsy, full condom that he had not yet found the energy to get up and throw away. 

Isn’t it? Joel got the sense it was not a genuine question, but more of a reiteration – a confirmation. Are we on the same page? 

Whatever she meant, he nodded his head. 

“It is.” He cradled her cheek. “But only if it comes with the rest of you. I’m a greedy man, sweetheart. I want it all.” 

She beamed at him. 

“Well, that makes two of us,” she declared while brushing a sweaty tuft of his hair out of his face. “I want everything you come with, Joel. And when I say everything - I mean everything. The whole package.” 

She might’ve not said Sarah’s name, but he knew that’s what she meant. 

His lips parted, amazed by how easily the words came out of her mouth. That was the first time a woman had ever acknowledged that he came as a two-for-one deal without even a hint of cynicism in their tone. Obviously, Joel realized a kid was a lot to take on. Especially since Lisa wasn’t in the picture at all, but there were some women who made it sound like Sarah was baggage, which was insane. Sarah was the best part of him. 

Speechless, Joel kissed her firmly on the mouth. It was warm and sweet and surging through his chest like an electric current. This is what it was supposed to be like. He could feel her lips break into a smile before he pulled away. 

“Stay here. Let me get you cleaned up.” 

She laid back on the bed without argument, and he disappeared into the bathroom. Joel stuffed the condom into the tin-foil wrapper, then buried it under wads of tissues and empty toilet paper rolls at the bottom of the trash can, just in case Sarah used his bathroom. He didn’t want her to see that. 

After cleaning himself up, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. She looked pleasantly surprised, a little shocked. Wordlessly, she parted her legs with enough space for him to fit. 

“Such a gentleman,” she finally said after he gently wiped down her thighs. 

“Maybe.” He moved over her tender, swollen folders with even more caution. “Or maybe I just wanted to get a closer look.” 

He winked and she giggled. 

“You had your face buried down there like twenty minutes ago - don’t think you can get much closer than that.” 

True. Joel snorted and tossed the washcloth into his laundry hamper. He went over to his dresser and dug out an old, oversized t-shirt from the bottom of his drawer.

“Caught this at a Longhorns game from one of those t-shirt cannons,” he said when handing her the folded shirt with her panties on top. 

“Ooooooh impressive.” She playfully wiggled her brows, just slightly taunting him. He didn’t expect anything less. 

His boxers from earlier were still damp, so he put on a fresh pair. 

“So, what time are you picking Sarah up?” she asked, seemingly waiting to bring up his kid until he wasn't butt-ass naked. 

“Actually, she’s staying at her friend’s house tonight.” 

“Well, that’s interesting.” 

Joel hummed his response. He was grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the closet when suddenly the home phone on the nightstand lit up, ringing. Only solicitors called that phone, anymore – shit, his cellphone was downstairs. 

He would’ve ignored it, but what if it was Sarah? 

Joel raced to the phone with his pants still clutched in his hand. Once he saw the caller ID, he groaned.

“It’s Tommy.” 

She nodded for him to answer, and so he did. Very reluctantly. “Hello?” Joel swore if Tommy was in jail again, he was going to let him rot there until next week. 

“Hey there, Joel.” Definitely not jail – too happy. “What’s going on?” 

“Uh,” Joel paused and looked at his bed where Teddy was laying in only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. What a beautiful sight. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself; Tommy wouldn’t believe him even if he told the truth. Joel tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could put on his pants. “Nothing.” 

Teddy grinned at him like they were teenagers lying to their parents. 

“Nothing? Huh?” Tommy snorted. “Then what’s Teddy’s car doing in your driveway?” 

Oh no. 

Joel nearly tripped over his pant leg on his way to the window. The street lights were on, but the sky was still a light enough blue where he could clearly see Tommy standing in the driveway, waving with a classic little brother grin on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I was coming by to drag your ass out and wait - are you fucking shirtless?” 

Joel cursed, backing away from the window like it burned him. The cover was blown and he hoped Teddy didn’t mind, but it wasn’t his fault that his brother came over uninvited. He looked at her and she was just smiling, appearing wildly amused. 

She shrugged, then yelled. “Hi Tommy.” 

Tommy howled in his ear, loud enough that he could hear it through the glass. She immediately burst out laughing, no longer having to hide. Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t even be annoyed or mad. Not right now. 

“You dirty dog.” 

Fucking Tommy. 

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| In A Week ||

frank castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: sad, angsty, reader is um... dead, Frank is not dealing well, implied sort-of suicide attempt/lack of care.

I recommend reading the short fic Seeya first if you want to amp up the sadness! 😜

It's been a while since he's been here, usually it was almost everyday without fail but lately…

When he places his hand on the earth it feels warm, but only from the waning afternoon sun. The sky is that heavy, stormy yellow-grey colour now, and as he tilts his head up and closes his eyes he can feel the pressure change in the muggy air. 

You loved storms. Told him countless times there was magic in them but damn, he'd swear the magic was all you as you had dragged him out on the balcony and kissed him stupid in the pouring rain. 

And then, not long after, God had said no. There would be no more dancing in the storms, no dinners out, no weekend adventures, no more sleepy mornings wrapped up in each other. No more anything for you, for his girl. 

Whatever purpose this God had in mind for you, it was done, but he wasn't yet done with Frank.

take me you motherfucking coward, take me.

He wishes so hard that it was the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears instead of the fading of your final breath. He tries picturing the brightness of your eyes and the warmth of your smile, but all he can see is the jolting of your  vulnerable body as the bullets ripped through and took you from him.

I'm so sorry, baby. Should've done better by you. It should've been me.

He's not asking for forgiveness as he whispers those words into the soft wind. If you could reach across the void he'd eagerly listen for your punishment, he'd beg you to tell him exactly how to suffer, because he'd do it a million times over and it still wouldn't be enough. It can't ever be enough.

One minute you were there, smiling, laughing, screaming, loving him, and then you just… weren't. 

It's okay, I'll see you…

He didn't understand, despite the myriad of lives he's taken he couldn't get his head around how this had happened. How he'd let it. It wasn't supposed to happen to you, you were meant to be different, separate to all of that, untouchable.

He hunches over, his fingers digging hard into the wet soil like you'd just reach up through it and he could bring you back. Or that you'd pull him under with you.

But you don't. His throat closes up, his body shakes but his sobs are muted by the thunder, and tears are lost in the rain.

He presses his fingers first to his lips, then to the letters of your name carved in the headstone.

Seeya.

He leans up against it as comfortably as he can with the way he's bleeding out. 

It's over. It won't be that long until he's with you again.

Things are just starting to get murky and go dark when he feels his body being lifted up.

Stop fighting me Frank, I'm trying to help

no… 

A weak murmur at first, then louder as he regains consciousness.

"NO! Leave me here, let me be with her! Let me be with her!" Even in his weakened state he's roaring, furious desperation cracking his voice as he's pulled further away from you.

"You know I can't do that."

So then, this was his punishment, to be dragged back into a living hell by the devil. To suffer a life without you in it.

"I'm gonna… kill you," Frank rasps, "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Red."

The devil wasn't for listening, hoisting him over his shoulders and staggering up the hill. "Yeah okay, but later. Gotta get you to a hospital first."

"Just let me fuckin' go Red, let me die. I'm done."

~

The incessant steady beep of the heart monitor was mocking him. The holes in him now stitched and taped up, proof of life soaking through the stark white dressings.

"Hey." Red says from the corner of the room.

Frank winces. Goddamn fucking self-righteous prick was always interfering. Taking his choice from him. He wanted to wring his neck but the fight in him was quickly draining away as he remembered just why they were here.

"I- I can't, can't do this without her." Frank's voice was quiet and hoarse as it broke. He didn't give a fuck if Red could smell his fucking tears or whatever, he was just full on crying rivers now. It was one thing at least that had been getting easier.

Matt comes closer to the side of the bed.

"She'd want you to live for her, you know that Frank. You're strong, you can survive."

Frank scoffs and shakes his head before wiping tears away. "Sh-she was it for me, made me strong… an' I don't know… she was everything."

Matt's hand is gentle on his shoulder.

"And that's why you have to keep on going, for her. Ask me how I know."

Frank didn't need to, he knew what Red had gone through, brought to a low place he almost hadn't come back from. 

Matt sighs, remembering. "It's not easy. It takes time, but you're not alone, and you've got help if you need it."

Frank's in a daze, doesn't know if it's the blood loss or what but he just keeps on shaking his head. "I dunno Red, I dunno."

I'm lost. I'm so lost.

"It's alright, we'll figure it out."

Frank feels gutted out, vacant. Memories of you like they happened yesterday reel through his mind and sting the backs of his eyes like someone has jammed fucking razorblades in there.

Sure, whatever you say Red. 

"Yeah, yeah."

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Three I It's Nice To Have A Friend

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 2498

Warning: I have literally no clue how football works.

A/N: Hey fellas! I hope things are going well for y'all and that you're enjoying the story! I am like a puppy dog and thrive on words of affirmation so if you're enjoying pls let me know!

Prologue One Two

            “She said what?” Keely gaped, looking up from her laptop at Jamie.

            “She said that I made her feel like… like she didn’t deserve to be here,” Jamie repeated, leaning back in his chair.

            “Aw, poor girl,” Keely pouted at him. “What did you say?”

Jamie shrugged. “Nothing, she walked away before I could say anything.”

            “Well, what would you have said if she stayed?” She pressed.

            “I… I don’t know,” Jamie admitted, after a second. “It just made me think about… me dad.” Keely frowned at that. She didn’t know a lot about his dad, Jamie had always stayed mainly private about that part of his life, but what she did know wasn’t great. He continued. “I was just such a dickhead.” Keely snorted. “What? I’m opening me self up to you. Can you try not to laugh at me?”

            “No, Jamie, no! I’m not…” She cleared her throat, trying to appear serious. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just, I’m pretty sure you’ve called yourself a dickhead about a hundred times since you’ve been back.” Jamie rolled his eyes and leaned forward in his chair. “Have you talked to Dr. Fieldstone about it?”

            “Yah, I have. She said I need to forgive me self so I can let them forgive me. Cause if I won’t forgive me why should they. Whatever the fuck that means.” He was frustrated with himself. It was like she could understand what the ball was doing before it even moved. Why couldn't he just tell her that. “I just want her to know I’m sorry. It doesn’t help that the rest of the team hates me to.”

            “Well Jamie, they aren’t going to just forgive you. You have to show them you’ve changed.”

            “Ted said not to buy them all PS5s.”

            “No, not like that! Just… let them show you how to make it up to them,” Keely clarified.

Jamie looked at her for a second processing what she said. “…. Keely?’

            “Yes, Jamie.”

            “Can you return 30 PS5s?”

            “Oh, Jamie.”

The next game was against Coventry City. The coaches didn’t usually spend a lot of time with the lads before games, but I loved the energy in the locker room. I walked around the room, talking with the boys, giving last minute tips, handing out fist bumps. I could feel Jamie’s eyes on me as I did. Every now and then I would glance over at him as he tied his shoes. I warded him off with a small smile, but I didn’t dare get too close to him.             

“(Y/N)! Look at this!” It was Colin, excitedly showing me his boots. “Had Will shine these bad boys this morning.”

            “Yes, Colin your shoes look great,” I rolled my eyes whilst giving Isaac a fist bump.

            “You’re not even looking!”  

I turned a looked at Colin. They did look really great.

            “You know what Colin, those do look great,” I conceded, reaching over to give him a high five.

Just then the sound of stretching tape caught our attention. I turned to see Sam pressing black tape over his Dubai Air logo. Someone cracked some joke about Dubai Air not paying him enough but he quickly explains that it was more than that. That Dubai Air owned by a compnay that was destroying the environment in Nigeria. There was silence in the locker room.

Then Jamie stood up.

I eyed him, ready to step in if he decided to make a stupid decision here. But instead, he stretched the tape and put it over his own Dubai Air logo.

            “Gotta wear the same kit,” he explained. As if it was simple. As if it was expected.

He patted his jersey before tossing the tape into the center console. I studied his face, looking for any signs of mockery, but there was none. Soon the whole team had stripes of black tape over the kits. The whole game, all the focus was on Sam, even though it was Jamie’s big return. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he celebrated Sam when he returned from the post-game interview. We lost the game, but no one seemed to mind.

            “All I’m saying is that objectively, this red looks better than the blue boots,” Colin insisted, motioning to his feet.

            “Colin, the red is going to get dirty so much more easily than the blue,” I counter, pointing at my own shoes.

            “Now that’s just- “

            “Hey, (Y/N), can I talk to you?” Jamie interrupted.

Colin and I took simultaneous sips of our beer, making eyes at each other before I nodded. Colin took that as his cue to leave, giving Jamie a cheer as he left. Jamie looked down at his shoes, looking a little nervous.

            “What’s up, Jamie?” I asked, trying to force him to meet my eyes. Then he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to me. It was a ticket. “What is this?”

            “It’s my ticket to your final game at Imperial,” he explained, motioning to the ticket.

Surprised I looked down. Imperial College. Where I had gone to uni and played football all four years. This final game I lead my team to the league championship.

            “I-I don’t under- “

            “Me and some friends had heard about this crazy talented football girl,” he began, still not meeting my eyes. “I thought, there was no way a girl could be as good as they were saying.” He laughed a little. “So, we bought tickets to see you play. And you were that good. Like… even better than they was saying.”

My mouth was agape with surprise. I looked down at the ticket, shaking my head in disbelief.

            “Jamie, I- “

            “Wait, let me finish, please,” he interrupted, again. “You really were incredible that night. I thought I would see you in professionals but.... your name never popped up. Anyways, when I found out you were coming to coach here, I suppose I thought that I needed to prove me self to you. Make myself look bigger and better. But it was really because I was intimidated by you. I was dumb, and really stupid. And I know I’ve been saying it a lot but I really am sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t good enough for us because the truth is, you’re really better than most of us.”

I was shocked by his sincerity. “Thank you, Jamie.”

He finally looked up at me. His eyes were big and searching, it almost broke my heart. I smile at him and raise my beer towards him.  

            “We’re okay, Jamie,” I reassured him.

His face broke out into a smile, that stupid cocky smile that I had seen so many times before.

            “Good, good,” he clinks his beer against mine. We both took a long sip of the beers looking around at the room.

            “You know, what you did today, for Sam, it was really good of you,” I told him, sincerely.

He shrugged. “Any of the lads would have done it.”

            “But they didn’t, you did,” I press, nudging his shoulder. “It was good.” He kept his cocky smirk, but I could see his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. “Doesn’t excuse you playing like rubbish out there today.”

            “What? I did not!”

            “Oh, yes you did!”

The two of us sat there bickering and chatting about the game until long after everyone else had left. But I barely noticed. Jamie was funny. He was sincere and honest in a way I didn’t expect. It was too soon to tell but I felt my heart jump. The same way it had that night with the ghosts. Maybe, just maybe, that Jamie was here again.

I had a routine. Since moving back to Richmond, I stayed in the same schedule. I woke up at 7:00am. Get up, get a quick workout in, shower, eat breakfast, and get to work early so I could have some time on the pitch. Occasionally, when I was leaving my house, I would run into a pap or two asking me some inane questions about my place in the league and what I was doing to single handedly fix sexism in the football industry. Keely just told me to keep my head down and keep walking.

But now there was a new part to my schedule. Now when I arrived at the pitch, Jamie was there waiting for me. We’d play against each other, throwing sharp jabs at one another for whatever tiny mistakes the other would make. It was fun. Jamie was a fun friend. Wasn’t that great. Friends? Almost best friends, I might say. It was distracting.

            “So, hows that puzzle coming?” Ted asked, as I walked into the coaches room after my daily session with Jamie.

            “Huh? Oh! Good, I suppose? He’s doing well,” I responded, sitting in my seat. “He’s a fun guy to be around.”

Ted gave an understanding grunt. “Aint, that just great. A new friendship. Beard, didn’t I tell you I knew what I was doing.”

            “Don’t gloat,” Beard grunted from behind his book.

            “Hooh! I love it when he gets bitter,” Ted giggled, smiling at me. “Turns his eyes a lovely shade of hazel!”

Beard lowered his book just enough to show me his eyes. They did look lovely.

The game that weekend didn’t go great. We ended up in the video room watching the loss on the television. Isaac’s leadership was taking a steep turn. His fear was coming out in aggressive rages on the field when his teammates didn’t make the plays they were supposed to. After one particularly bad defensive move by Jan Maas, Ted paused the tv.

He began his motivational speech. This time about romcommunism. An interesting play on words about getting through the dark forest of the season.

            “What about aca-teamwork?” I suggested referencing my personal favorite romcom.

            “Oh, that is a Pitch Perfect comparison,” Ted quipped, snapping his fingers. “Becca thought she was cool by trying to be independent but what she needed was teamwork.”

            “But wasn’t the real lesson in Pitch Perfect the understanding of sisterhood and how surrounding yourself with people you love creates strength?” Colin pointed out.

            “Exactly, Colin,” I agreed, leaning back in my chair.

Ted came to sit next to me as the lights went down. I scanned the lads to watch their attention levels when my eyes landed on Jamie. He was smirking at me. When he caught my eyes, he gave me a fist pump a la The Breakfast Club. I shook my head at him and motioned for him to pay attention.

As the boys were changing and packing up for the day, I erased the strategies off the board.

            “Good call today with the Pitch Perfect reference, I love that movie,” Colin shared coming up behind me.

I capped my marker and turned to look at him with a smile. “It’s only the greatest romantic comedy in the 2010s!”

            “I agree. We don’t talk about the sequels, though,” he pointed out.

            “What sequels?” I joked, raising my eyebrows. “I’m still waiting on Becca to choose a song for the next auditions.”

            “You get it, alright, I’ll see you around girlo!” He gave me a pat on the arm as he walked out of the room. As I watched him leave, I noticed Jamie sitting on his bench listening to us talk. I quirked an eyebrow at him.

            “Something to add, Jamie?” I asked, grabbing my bag.

He picked up his own bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Nah, I ain’t seen that one.”

            “What! You haven’t seen Pitch Perfect?” I gaped. Though I knew it wasn’t super surprising that Jamie hadn’t seen it.

            “I prefer 10 Things I Hate About You, I like… what’s his name…” He approached me as he thought about the name. “Heath Ledger’s character.”

            “Patrick?” I offered, shocked that Jamie knew about one of the best rom coms of all time.

            “Exactly!” He started towards the door. I followed him, walking close enough that our shoulders were brushing. “What are your plans for this weekend?”

            “Uh, beating Sheffield Wednesday?” I replied, raising my eyebrows at him.

            “I mean besides that.” He rolled his eyes.

            “Dunno, maybe sleep in for once? Eat a French fry?” I shrugged. “What about you?”

As we rounded the corner to leave the room, I spied the newest sponsorship that Keely had hooked up for the boys. Keurig coffee makers.

            “Woah, maybe make too much coffee with my brand-new coffee machine,” he gloated, picking up his coffee.

            “Change of plans, I will be at your place drinking too much coffee with your new coffee machine,” I joked, glaring jealously at it.

He laughed. I decided I loved that sound and smiled at him. When I went to follow him, I heard a loud throat clearing. I turned and saw Rebecca and Keely looking at my expectantly. I frowned at them and turned back to Jamie.

            “I’ll see you around, yeah?” I called after him.

He turned back and for a second it looked like real disappointment on his face. But it cleared up quickly when he saw Keely standing behind me.

            “Oh alright, see you at Sheffield,” He turned to walk away but not before calling out, “Bye Keely!”

I don’t know why but it made my heart drop to hear him address his former girlfriend. I waved at him before turning back to face the two women behind me.

            “What do you two want?” I pouted, leaning against the wall next to Rebecca.

            “You like him!” Keely shouted, clapping her hands excitedly.

I snapped my head in their direction. “What are you talking about?”

            “She’s right,” Rebecca concurred, starring at her phone. “Everyone can see it.”

            “Everyone?”

            “Everyone,” Keely concluded. “Except, apparently, you and Jamie.”

I looked incredulously between Rebecca and Keely. I do not like Jamie. JAMIE! Of all people. Just a few weeks ago I couldn’t stand him and now they think I like him.

            “Seriously, that is just ridiculous, Jamie is just my friend,” I clarified, shaking my head.

            “Your friend that you go to work with, hang out with while at work, and walk home with?” Rebecca inquired, finally looking up from her phone. Her stare as piercing. But no, there was no way that I liked Jamie like that.

            “I think the two of you need to get laid,” I finished, pushing myself off the wall. “Instead of getting in other people’s business.”

I walked away from them, back to my office where I could pretend to be mad at them. I wasn’t mad, not really. Just annoyed. So, what I wasn’t able to have a friend in Jamie? I wasn’t able to admire his physique in a friendly way? Or laugh as his naivete and honesty? I finally felt like I had someone who respected me in this field. That’s all he was. A friend.

Tag list:

@optimisticsandwichgladiator, @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo, @ajax-petropolus-wife

[flash-the-readies]

Calling my younger self out for all the embarrassing things they thought/did when I first started getting into Pink Floyd (I just think I was endearing albeit annoying)

Initially confused them with LED Zeppelin because for some reason my brain put them on a similar tier

Went to watch the Pulse tour DVD … promptly realised it was post-Waters, cried, shut it off immediately, and haven’t seen it since (I actually own a DVD and a VHS tape of the film…both of which were gifts actually)

Saw that Live at Pompeii gif of Roger blowing the smoke rings and just stared at it for a long while promptly falling in love

Didn’t know the Wall was a double album and just assumed the second disc was demos so I never listened to it and would only listen to half the album. Eventually I decided to play the second disc and realised how stupid I was (In the Flesh confused me)

Had an entire wall in my room dedicated to The Wall (I painted out the brick design and had these posters)

Didn’t really care much for the WYWH album (and now it’s my favourite Pink Floyd album..)

FUCKING GAVE AWAY THE IN THE PINK NICK SEDGWICK BOOK BECAUSE I WAS GOING THROUGH SOME SHIT AND ROGER WAS MAKING ME FEEL GUILTY AND HORRIBLE

Would listen to the Wall at least once a day for months on end especially while sitting alone at lunch

Used the fact that my mum desperately wanted me to make friends to go to a Roger Waters concert with this boy who had a crush on me and then promptly started trying to convert me to Catholicism once he found out I’m atheist, bisexual, and non-binary. Roger Played the Gunner’s Dream for the encore so no regrets there

Had a long and unhealthy obsession with The Final Cut and would play my LP of it at least once a day

Read something about Roger calling the rest of the band “the muffins” and promptly dubbed David “greasy muffin”…and got the rest of my online friends to join in

Wrote endless HCs with a friend about Watershend (Roger Waters x Pete Townshend)… I stand by this one. Sorry

Did a 10 minute presentation on the Wall for a history class when I was…14

Called in sick to school even though my teachers knew I was going to watch Roger Waters in concert

Found a copy of Rick Wright’s Wet Dream on vinyl at a market… had no cash in the moment … asked my friend if they could give me cash and then I’d pay them back later… my friend agreed thinking it was for food (I wasn’t trying to deceive them I promise I just didn’t communicate what that money was for as clearly as I thought I did… but I did pay them back plus a bit extra!) I did get my record tho

Went to Battersea Station…. DIDN’T REALISE IT WAS A FUCKING SHOPPING MALL ON THE INSIDE BECAUSE I FAILED TO DO MY RESEARCH AND DIDN’T EVEN ATTEMPT TO GO INSIDE BECAUSE I AM AWKWARD AS HELL… so instead I opted to awkwardly stand around the outside and check out the nearby shops (this is recent ;-;)

I used to draw and would just fill my notebook up with drawing of Pink Floyd (mostly just Roger…)

I am just now remembering how much of my fanart was nose-centric

You know that common trans experience of “trying desperately to live as your assigned gender one last time so you overcompensate before you come out”… well that overlapped with my “ukulele and Syd Barrett let’s dress psychedelic” phase

Have bought way too many pieces of clothing because they remind me of something Roger wore once (I think I’ll make this into it’s own post perhaps)

That’s all I can remember for now. Just feeling nostalgic. I could make a second part of all the most recent cringe shit I’ve done. I’m not laughing at myself I’m laughing with myself. Honestly my younger self was iconic, gotta love her

[vickozone]

The Magnus Archives

-S4 Notes-

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

SOMETHING ABOUT FANART GOES HERE I THINK

<- previous notes

next notes ->

Handwriting translated below:

#121 Oliver. He’s dead and JON! YOU’RE OKAY!

#122 zombies and Jon’s first instinct from waking up from a 6 month coma is to read a statement. Icon.

#123 He just got back and Melanie wants to kill him and something is up with Martin. Also, The Web, I suppose. Coding?

#124 More Simon. What a guy. Also, Jon is… very concerned for Martin…

#125 The Slaughter is back and Melanie! CALM DOWN! MY HEADPHONES ARE ON LIFE SUPPORT AS IT IS!

#126 The Spiral clarity + Martin is being manipulated (SHE STABBED HIM!?)

#127 Another letter to Jonah. AND ELIAS IS JUST CHILLIN IN PRISON. GO OFF, KING!

#128 Breekon is nothing without Hope. The institute and ooo! Jon eye powers!

#129 Guy drowned in grandpa’s house and JON NEEDS AN ANCHOR! Also, very homosexual interaction.

#130 Meat ritual and JON! NO, SELF HARM IS BAD! YOU BETTER NOT DO WHAT I THINK YOU’RE IMPLYING!

#131 AAAA! AAAA! OH. OH NO. Jared is the Boneturner and Helen is an absolute queen <3

#132 Jon saves Daisy!! Yay! She is also The Hunt, but, whatever. The tapes drew him back…

#133 The Hunt ritual, and Basira… has feelingsss. The Hunt is about the chase, not the kill.

#134 The Extinction!? NO. Also Lukas is the worst. Hate that guy.

#135 “Have I ever told you how much I hate the sun?” -Manuela Lol, The Dark, The Vast, and The Lonely funded the space expedition.

#136 Annabelle! Creepy celeb puppet. And Daisy telling Jon he’s not responsible for everything gives hope. Yes! Therapy!

#137 The Slaughter ritual & Gertrude was fond of Gerry :( The Watcher’s Crown??

#138 “And then the sky blinked.” Elias is literally the ‘no need to thank me’ meme and Jonah and Smirke knew about the 14 fears and then he dies or smthn

#139 The life and crimes of Agnes. Jon MAYBE saw Peter’s plan and- PRAISE THE LORD, JON LIKES MARTIN!!

#140 Stupid Maxwell. Also, Santa is working working with the Devine Host (/j) & we’re going on a trip! :D

#141 Salesa statement from boat guy. Oh, Jon, I see why Martin has a crush on you now. 10/10 voice acting on everyone’s part.

#142 JEEZ, JON! You gave this poor woman literal trauma! Goodness…

#143 oh, it’s Manuela! Jon looked AT the darkness and HELEN IS A SAVIOR!

#144 MARTIN! We do NOT talk to people like that! Especially Daisy! This isn’t you! The Extinction is real, I guess, but, come on! Not cool.

#145 Gertrude is COLD. Dude’s head is somewhere in the institute- uh-

#146 5 people? Goodness, Jon. He can’t control it though, can he? Helen got Marcus and Basira is off to meet with Annabelle friggin Cane.

#147 Okay. No, he can control it. I love Anna. I also got Nikola flashbacks. Oh boy.

#148 Not 5 seconds in and Elias gets assaulted. Jon is worried for Martin and he read a statement about The Eye. A.

#149 Concrete Jungle. Oh and Martin is using Lonely powers. Greaaat.

#150 Homophobic endless houses and Melanie really said “nuh uh” to her job

#151 Simon is my new husband. Uhhh. He answered Martin’s questions, yada yada, he has Lonely powers

#152 More of The Buried. Jon and Helen chat more about avatar crap.

#153 Another odd desolation flesh cult, also Trevor and chic is here and he is HUNGRY

#154 Gerry’s dead dad gives a statement. J + M both F bomb, very gay, eye gouging is the only way out. (“It’s pretty drastic.” “What you gotta gouge your eyes out or something?” “…” “…” “…” “Fuck off.” <- funniest conversation in the whole series)

#155 Guy kills others to keep himself alive + MEL IS REMOVING HER EYES- OKAY-

#156 More extinction about an abandoned park and I am very scared for Martin

#157 another extinction- OMG MEL AND GEORGIE! Did… Helen stab Jon?

#158 SO MUCH. Martin played Lukas, Daisy is feral, ELIAS IS JONAH, Not!Sasha is loose, disaster duo is here, Martin is stuck in Lonely, Gertrude wanted ‘Elias’ to kill her. WHAT.

#159 Peter shares his story, is evaporated. “I see you, Jon…”

#160

Look at the sky, Martin. It’s looking back.

I OPEN THE DOOR!

[skylarmoon71]

Clark Kent (Smallville) Short Story - Chapter 1

Living in a town like Smallville, you’d gotten used to reading about the weird and dangerous. You just never thought you’d be on the receiving end of it.

You could barely recall what happened.

Or how you ended up in someone's basement.

Next to you was a familiar face that seemed to jog your memory.

“Shit!”

Thankfully you hadn’t been bound. Your assailant must have believed you would be out for a while.

“Clark, Hey Kent you gotta wake up! Wake up!!”

You were shaking him frantically. When he rolled over on his back, you noticed the cut that was prominent on his forehead. As well as the green rock at his side. You grabbed the stone, chugging it in a random direction.

“Stupid rock!”

It’s the reason you were both in this situation in the first place. Pulling your shirt sleeve down, you did your best to rub some of the blood from his wound. The situation wasn’t looking too good right about now. You brushed his forehead a couple times and to your surprise he began to stir. When his eyes shot open and his body jolted upright you almost fell back.

“T-Take it easy you’re hurt we need to get you..”

Your words trailed off, because when he stood up, you could see the wound on his head. You’d managed to clear a decent amount of the blood. So when a golden spark ignited on his face and the wound seemed to heal itself, you briefly contemplated that you were delirious. You slowly rose to your feet, taking some much needed steps back.

Clark looked a bit more guarded.

“You’re one of them..”

Clark shook his head, taking a step forward and you backed up. He stopped, raising his hands.

“Listen to me, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. Right now we need to get out of here before Kyle gets back.”

That’s right. Kyle.

The fire wielding maniac who’d grabbed the both of you from the school. It was just bad timing on your part. You’d been doing some extra credit when you caught him trying to set a classroom on fire with Clark in it. You weren’t even surprised when you saw him holding one of those tainted meteors. It explained where his powers came from.

Right about now you weren’t sure who to trust.

Clark who had just self healed or Kyle who no doubt would burn you both alive if he had the chance.

“I need you to trust me.”

You didn’t really have much of a choice. It’s clear that Clark is a victim too. As it stood he might be the only way you make it out of here.

“O-Okay..”

You weren’t still a bit hesitant. But you moved closer, holding out your hand as a show of good faith.

“I trust you.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He sent you a small smile, giving you a firm shake.

“Hold on.”

You’re a bit puzzled by the statement.

“Hold on to wha-”

You squealed when he picked you up as if you were weightless. Your hands scrambled to steady themselves on his broad shoulders and you just stared as he gave a reassuring smile. When you felt the rush of wind, you practically screamed, wrapping your hands around his neck.

The second your bodies finally stopped moving, your eyes were still clenched shut.

“We’re safe.”

Opening your eyes hesitantly, he was right. You were both right at the police station.

Your eyes connected to his with wonder, and Clark seemed a bit taken in the moment.

“Clark!!”

The call broke the moment, and when you looked over, his parents were running towards him with the Sheriff. He finally placed you on your feet. You released slowly and Clark gave you one last look before he moved over to explain the situation.

It took maybe an hour for the police to find and subdue Kyle Sherman. Possibly with some help of course. Apparently he was found unconscious and taped to a pole on the school grounds. You didn’t have to wonder what happened because you had no doubt Clark was probably involved. He’d healed himself and ran a few miles in seconds.

Who knew what else he was packing.

After constant questioning from the cops and a trip to the hospital, you were finally being released.

Your older brother had raced over the moment he got the news and he hadn’t left your side since he met you at the police station. He was worried sick, and you couldn’t exactly blame him. There was still so much that really didn’t make sense. You were however glad that Kyle wasn’t still out there setting things aflame. You still couldn’t wrap your head around how drastically he’d changed when he got those powers.

He was just so normal. Then one break up and a missed scholarship and he’d started attacking friends and your institution.

It was scary to think about.

“Are you okay?”

You nod at your brother with a weak smile as he wrapped his hand around your shoulder comfortingly.

“I’m just glad it all worked out.”

There’s a lot you can’t truly share. It’s obvious that no one knows about Clark. Otherwise you doubt they would be that chill. Especially given their reaction to Kyle who only had one ability.

As you’re exiting the building, you notice the familiar blue and red attire of a certain Kent. Your steps slow down and your brother notices. His gaze follows your own, and he sees the exchange.

“Do you need a minute?”

He’s about to walk away, but you grip his arm, shaking your head.

“N-No! I j-just want to go home.”

You drop your head low, and your brother nods in understanding. He sends Clark an apologetic smile as you both move past him. You don’t look up. So you don’t see his hurt expression. But you can feel it. The weight of your fear, rejection. It’s definitely not easy for him to swallow. So he just watches as you walk away.

~

Three weeks and life returns to a state of normalcy.

As normal as it can get in Smallville that is.

You haven’t spoken to Clark since that day.

The guilt is present.

He saved your life and your way of repaying him was avoidance.

“I’m a coward.”

You already know that, still were you truly wrong?

For all you knew the guy could be an alien.

You scratched your head as you gathered your books, distracted. Closing your locker, you exhale softly. You’re about to take a step but you notice someone ahead and you take a step back to apologize for the near collision. Your eyes lift and you notice those blue eyes. Clutching your books a bit tighter, you freeze.

You should say something.

Possibly an apology.

But the fear of that day creeps up, and you can’t get any words out. Clark takes notice of your struggles and he moves back.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” His face changes to a neutral expression. Like he’s guarding himself.

“I won’t approach you again, I promise.”

You swallow. Because that’s what you wanted. It must have been. You’ve been avoiding him like the plague.

It’s pathetic.

You feel absolutely pathetic.

Before you can stop them, the tears begin to flow. Clark’s expression morphed into a much softer one when he sees the droplets that run down your cheeks.

“I’m terrified..t-this is terrifying..”

You can’t pretend that you aren’t scared. Clark understands. It was stupid to just expect you to accept all of this. You were taken by an unhinged teen who possessed unnatural abilities just like him. Your fear is completely rational.

“I’m sorry..”

It’s a shaky sob and you drop your books, lifting your hands to your face.

“I-I’m so sorry!!”

You cry.

It’s stupid to make a scene right in the middle of the hallway. But you don’t care. You’ve been so scared. Being kidnapped, witnessing abilities you couldn’t comprehend and then shameful running from the guy who’s the main reason you’re alive.

Clark understands.

“Is it okay if I hug you?” He asks softly.

You can’t speak, so you just nod. Before he can make a move you run into his arms. He’s startled by the action, but his hands slowly lower, and he returns the embrace.

It’s clear this is what you both needed.

Somehow, it feels like everything will be okay. 

[xxmia0wm4yh3mxx]

Backrooms POI: Finley and Funny

Name(s): Finley and Funny

Aliases: "the Friendly Partygoer"(Funny) Team BoredFun, Fin+Fun

Dummy grumpy pants (Finley) =)

Funny dont add that in =(

You can't tell me what to do! XD

A stupid annoying idiot (Funny) =(

Hey! thats meeeeaaaaan >=(

Shut up =(

Last known location(s): Level 1, Level 5, Level 2, Level 11,

Known Affiliations: The Pity Partiers are the best and you should visit them =)

look I know they sound suspicious but you should listen to them =(

(Funny and Finley running from a smiler and a more clear, edited version of the smae photo)

Description: Finley and Funny are a unlikely duo of two eneties. (A rouge partygoer and a thought to be extinct partypooper) they have been seen wanderering Levels in deep conversation with one another, running from other entities

We dont do that! >=(

yeah we do actually =(

they seem to have a interest in guns and weapons as they have been seen carring many swords, guns and bazookas and making them as well

YEAH! THEIR AWESOME! right Fin? =)

Yeah i guess their cool =|

they love it =)

They both seem to be neutral on humans, they have been only seen killing them when negatively provoked

Uh YEAH? of course we respond violently to dumb, rude people! thats how it works dummy! =)

I think they're talking about how you clawed someones eye out when they accidentally bumped into you =(

It was level 201! I was on edge! >=(

Level 201 isn't that dangerous dumbass =(

you know why I didn't feel safe... Im not usually like that, honest! you can be a funny joke if you change your perspective! =)

Despite Funny being a partygoer, they have never been seen Hunting or eating wanderers but have been seen eating a prompus amount of Cannibal Cusinie.

Honestly cannbial cusinie so much more tastier =)

Im surprised you haven't gotten fat with how you eat that shit =(

Youda mean? =|

I'm just sayin its not good for you =(

WELL the more I eat, the less their is for the humans, DUH! =)

Finley has been known to be very cold and somewhat hostile to wanders, often pointing guns at wnaders but often never shooting

Don't worry, they only pull guns when they are just when They're grumpy, YOU SHOULD SEE WHEN THEY'RE MAD! HAHAHA! =)

Partygoers and PartyPoopers are infamous for being natural mortal enemies, but Finley and Funny have been seen either neutral or Straight-up romantic with eachother wait, wait, wait, WAIT. what do you mean by romantic? =(

uh fin we've been dating forever you stupid ass =)

Don't tell them that! >=(

Awwww! are you embarrassed?~ =)

im kicking you out of the room =(

Behaviors: Funny Has been known to be friendly albeit very malicious and dark regarding to their sense of humor, often making jokes about murder, missing family members, self harm, destruction, mental illness, or just straight up being rude piece of shit

You just gotta have the right mind set to get my jokes, Or at least a Mind at all! =)

as stated before Finley has been known being, cold, crass, rude, cynical but still helpful even if it doesn't effect them positivly. they have also been known to make edgy remarks reminiscent of that of a middle schooler who thinks they're depressed.

>=(

The following Is a interview log with The two eneties and dehila of the m.e.g in hopes to understand their odd situation better

____________________________________

Dehila: *Calmly walks over to Finley and Funny* Um excuse me-

Funny: FINELY SHOOT IT WITH FIRE ITS A SKIN STEALER!

-the tape cuts out for 20 minutes-

Finley: sorry about Asshole overthere *they point to Finny* they can't tell a clicker from a skin stealer

Funny: OH well excuuuuusse me for being jumpy in a plane of existence with cosmic entity cakes and hivemind cults following a dumb bluebird!

Dehila: oh it's quite alrig-

-the tape cuts out again

Dehila: so how did you two meet?

Finley: long story, but after the fun war PartyPoopers decided to stay in the promised land for "preservation of out species" or some dumb shit like that, but I left caused that Was the stupidest thing ive ever heard-

Funny: HA! not as dumb as you wanderering the halls alo-

-The tape cuts out again-

Dehlia: so you two have a bit of a enemies to lovers thing going on huh?

Funny: Eh, I guess, i mean we still fight ALL the time, and they're Super boring if that wasn't obvious! but.. i dunno They're a boring person, but Super fun to be around with! They taught me how to shoot a railgun, We made a bazooka that fires chainsaws, we smoke MJ together, They tell the best jokes! they've kinda become my muse!

Dehila: Aww thats so sweet- wait What about memory-

Funny: Nothing.

Finley: Yeah Funnys alright, Its nice to have someone who gets me, or Not takeing literally everything thing I say personally

Dehila: so funny, what separates you from the rest of the Partygoer?

Funny: Well I hate killing humans for starters, You guys are a alot funner alive, And Also Cannibal Cusinie Just tatses better, oh and also Being unwittingly controled by a giant birthday cake is super lame honestly, plus I'm having so much Fun With Finley!.... but I do miss friends back in level fun...

Finely: *sighs* ..yeah thats the hardest part about leaving..

Dehlia: so I've heard alot about "The pity Partiers" what is that exactly?

Finley: *akward silence*

Funny: Uhh.. well.. Uhhh

Funny:

Funny: you see when you love someone very much-

Finley: they're our kids

Dehlia: All of them?!?! they're like 50 of them!

Finley: 160 actually, Partypeople usally have 40 per litter

Funny: Yeah, why do you think were everywhere?

Finley: Anyways don't worry about them, their (mostly) harmless, right fun?

Funny: I think I have something in my teeth

Finley: yeah just don't hurt them alright?

________________________________________

log ends

[bosskie]

Realization

I didn't have a plan to draw today (yesterday, yes, I tend to post before I go to sleep because I draw late) but I just felt too anxious to do anything (self-hatred stuff), so I needed to focus on something to calm down. I kinda got tired of just doing pencil stuff, so I tried a black paper and colour pencils and man, those pencils weren't for this purpose... I had to use my old, random red colour pencil to get that red since that pack of colour pencils I used didn't have strong colours but the white one. It's been like... six years since I really used colour pencils.

This isn't really this bright IRL, it felt like I barely saw what I was drawing... Luckily, those pencils were blendable enough (it was said that they are blendable) that I could create those colours, somehow. I almost did holes to the paper while making those colours (you can see two such spots on his face)... Man, I need strong paper when I draw, it's so usual that I'm ruining the paper if it's too light... Like, for watercolour stuff I must use the heaviest paper or it will be a wavy thing, even when using the tape... I guess that my way to draw is somewhat rough... When I have done those pencil sketches, I have also succeeded to do almost holes to the paper but luckily, it's so strong that they haven't went thru the paper...

It was difficult to have an idea of what to draw because I was also at the same time reluctant to draw but something melancholic and well, Molluck... I didn't have a direct reference but as you can see, this refers to that bad ending in SoulStorm. But this more like relates to Molluck after he killed his Slig chauffeur since I just wonder what he thought after it. Maybe he realized that he just made it even worse... Frankly, I do understand him in that bad ending. He did warn the Slig to not to talk about it before but he just didn't learn from those warnings... Molluck did his best to stay calm but he just couldn't do it anymore...

I gotta say that it was interesting to hear how Lorne talked about Molluck recently, calling him 'a smart monster' but also 'a prick'. I have seen Molluck being called a bastard before too, like in this Abe's Exoddus info thing he is called 'a professional bastard', so it wasn't new but that 'monster', it caught my interest... I'm just unable to see him as a monster... Sometimes, I just wonder if there's something 'wrong' with me when I do not see this 'sinister Molluck' Lorne has also been talking about, the image OWI wants to give about him.

Despite of that presentation, I do not see him like that. I do can see him having certain sinister expressions but he doesn't still feel sinister to me... I more like just see myself in him and understand him... He just feels so 'me'... No any other character is so 'me'... I don't know if it's something 'worrying' but it's just the case. I'm not sure if my negative image of myself affects this significantly since well, I feel like I'm awful and I hate myself...

It did give me anxiety to see myself posting so often today (yesterday) since I cannot really stand my own creations but I'm trying my best to let them be... It gives me some peace when I tend to disable reblogs. It's just that I tend to dislike my stuff... I'm just not able to share my stuff more widely for this reason...

But why I do post my stuff if I tend to hate it? Well, I just like to create stuff but it's another question if I like what I did or not. I also wanna spread love for Molluck. I just love that Gluk so much... Maybe I have created a better image of him than he really is but it's what gives me life and how I do see him, how those cutscenes made me see him. I did see him as a sweet Gluk in those cutscenes. He can be harsh when he speaks but I can see actual caring behind it. I just feel like, if this blog wasn't about love toward Molluck, I would have already deleted it.

I have already said this back then but when Molluck does this expression:

It reminds me of my stupid expression I sometimes did as a child for fun, 'a bull face'... Yes, I associate this expression with myself... I can still do it. So yeah, for me, it's kinda difficult to see anything else but someone I can identify with in Molluck... I have also liked boss stuff years before knowing Molluck, and well, I do can seem intimidating and bossy, even when I don't think so... But I have also heard that I'm lovely, so I just have different sides.

I have also heard often that I'm (very) handsome, so yeah, it's one more similarity between me and Molluck... Oh, and well, my name, Riki, also means 'rich and powerful', but it isn't the reason why I have it and I didn't even invent it, it was given to me by one girl who maybe flirted to me but I didn't realize it... She just asked if it's my name, and later on, I really started to love that name. I have told this stuff before too but I felt like saying this stuff again.

I just cannot help myself that I see Molluck like this... He is my precious Gluk, no matter what.

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Grandaddy - The Paradise, Boston, Massachusetts, August 9, 2003

Twenty years ago, my girlfriend Dulcie and I climbed aboard the Grandaddy tour bus, which was parked in front of the Paradise on Commonwealth Ave. I was just a kid, trying to get some music journalist cred; this may not have been going backstage to interview Mick at a Rolling Stones concert, but it felt like a big deal at the time!

I chatted for a while with drummer Aaron Burtch, who was a super nice dude. Dulcie (who I would soon marry!) snapped some pics afterwards (Jason Lytle was a no show, sadly). Later, we caught the show in the very very very hot Paradise. Grandaddy was a (surprisingly?) terrific live band both times I saw them — something that's on display on this excellent recording. It's available on the massive Grandaddy Live Archive, which is a wonderful resource. All bands should have a page like this!

And hey, here's the article I wrote for the long-defunct Junkmedia.org:

The execs at V2 Records were shocked earlier this year when they received the tapes for Grandaddy's new record, mysteriously titled Arm of Roger: The Ham and Its Lily. The label was expecting big things from the band, especially following the critical and commercial success of 2000's masterful The Sophtware Slump. But after almost a year of recording in frontman Jason Lytle's home studio, the Modesto, CA-based group had turned in a follow-up that was disappointing, to say the least.

In fact, the new record was terrible.

Kicking off with the sonic mayhem of "Robot Escort" and closing with an offensive, if nonsensical ditty called "The Pussy Song", Arm of Roger was nothing short of career suicide — 35 minutes of un-listenable garbage. V2 staff members spent about a week in a state of panic, thinking that one of their flagship bands had gone completely off the deep end.

Grandaddy drummer Aaron Burtch chuckles, recalling the label's reaction. "The people who didn't know us that well there, they were saying, 'We've gotta get these guys into rehab, this is a bad situation, there's absolutely no way we can put this record out.'" But finally, the band's A&R; person, Kate Hyman, left a message on Lytle's answering machine.

"OK, motherfuckers," she said. "Where's the real album?"

"There had just been one too many record label calls to Jason's house, wondering where the record was," Burtch laughingly explains, relaxing in the "smoking lounge" of Grandaddy's tour bus a few hours before the band's show at the Paradise in Boston. As "a kind of tension-breaker" at the tail-end of a long and difficult year of recording sessions, Lytle, guitarist Jim Fairchild, and keyboardist Tim Dryden concocted the Arm of Roger album in three alcohol-fueled nights. "They just got super-hammered and banged this really stupid record out really fast," Burtch says. "And then we Fed-Ex'd it right over to them. It's good to keep people on their toes. Especially record labels."

V2 must have breathed a collective sigh of relief when Grandaddy duly delivered Sumday a week later. Picking up where The Sophtware Slump left off, the "real album" is easily one of the year's best. While not as career-defining as its predecessor, Sumday refines the band's futuristic pop sound and features some of Lytle's most accomplished songwriting to date. Like all Grandaddy releases, the new album is a self-produced affair. "One hundred percent of the album was recorded at Jason's house," states Burtch proudly. "We've always, always done that. I don't think we could do it any other way."

Despite the comfortable confines of Lytle's home studio, Sumday's birthing process wasn't an easy one. "It took a long time," Burtch says. "There were five or six months of set-up time, starting with us getting a bunch of new gear in. Then we had to make sure everything worked. And then we had to make sure Jason knew how to work it all." Finally, the band commenced recording, only to hit a wall about halfway through. "We had about six songs finished, but we had to take a break so Jason could get his head back on straight. He had just been down in the dungeon for months by that point."

Another disturbing development was Modesto's burgeoning reputation in the media as a hotbed for shady activities. "It's become the capital of young missing women, which is kind of scary," Burtch says of the central California tract-housing sprawl Grandaddy calls home. "There were the Yosemite Murders four years ago, and then the whole Laci Peterson thing happened. It's terrible, but if you live there, you just think, 'That fuckin' figures'." Still, he has no plans to relocate. "It's a weird place, for sure," he admits. "But I'm not gonna move, as far as I know. That's because we've all kind of built our own little oasis there that's separate from everything else."

Not that the band will be spending much time stoking the homefires in the coming months. With a tour itinerary that began in April and stretches well into December, they'll be lucky to spend more than a weekend off of the road. "This," says Burtch, pausing to gesture towards the cramped confines of the band's tour bus, "is not what we do. We make music, and we'd like to play shows, but we don't want to play a show a night for a year and a half. Radiohead has it down. They put out their record, play forty shows and then they go home. It'd be neat to be afforded a luxury like that. That would be the ideal. Big records, not so big tours."

Grandaddy isn't at this level yet — not by a long shot. Still, the band is selling out most of their club dates, and is greeted rapturously by fans. Upcoming shows in the UK and the US with Super Furry Animals will see the band reaching an even larger audience. "That'll be really cool," says Burtch. "Super Furry Animals had us come out and open for them in the UK in 1998, before anyone knew who we were out there. We've been friends with them since then. And that was the first time we'd played big places, with proper sound equipment and all that. So we owe them a huge debt."

Of course, the current tour was almost over before it began. During the band's spring stint as the opening act for Pete Yorn, guitarist Fairchild was literally run over by a tour bus carrying production equipment. After a few too many post-concert libations, he stumbled down some stairs and found himself beneath the wheels of the 18-wheeler. Miraculously, Fairchild only broke some small bones under his shoulder, and was onstage performing (with his arm in a sling) a few days later. "Hey, shit happens," says Burtch of the incident. "Sometimes you almost die, sometimes you don't. You put a bunch of skateboarders in a bus and tell 'em 'You can't do this and you can't do that, and you have to be back here at one o'clock' — you're fuckin' asking for it. Shit happens..."

[pastrnaks-sainz]

mainlypastrnaksbae AO3 Masterlist

So this is definitely not because I'm procrastinating. ANYWAY, here are all my AO3 fics organized by pairing for your convenience.

Patrice Bergeron/Brad Marchand

Honey, I Adopted a College Student ~ Newly married and just having moved into a house of their own (a feat years, if not a decade in the making), Patrice and Brad were just starting to settle into their new town. They both fell in love with Amherst, Massachusetts. It wasn’t close to Boston by any means, but neither of them needed to be - or wanted to be - close to the city. And Amherst wasn’t Boston, but it was still busy. It was the biggest town in the county and it was home to not one but two colleges. Amherst College with its student body of just around 1,800 and University of Massachusetts Amherst with its overall population of just under 24,000 students. There was plenty to do in Amherst, Massachusetts and Patrice and Brad loved it.

Adventures in Captaincy ~ There was not a word in the English (or French; Brad knows, he looked) dictionary to describe just how much Brad Marchand was in love. No combination of two words, not even a made up word would cover it. Brad had tried, Pasta had tried, even fucking Z had tried and he hadn’t been witness to Brad’s shenangins in over two years. Nothing. Their three brains could not come up with a single word. Things were starting to feel hopeless.

Are They...? ~ “Krej,” Monty said as he walked into the equipment room.

“Hey, coach,” Krej smiled. He turned away from the stacks of tape he was looking through to give Monty his full attention. “What’s up?”

“This is gonna sound weird,” Monty sighed. “But Bergy and Marchy. Are they…?”

or

Monty finds out his two best players are married

Anger Management ~ “I am too,” Patrice cupped the side of Brad’s face with his hand and traced his jawline. “Do you need to take your anger out?”

Brad sighed and looked back down. There were only a handful of nights he could recall that Patrice had asked him that question.

4 Times Marchy Slept on Bergy's Couch + 1 Time he Slept in His Bed ~ “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nice to see you too, Pat,” Marchy retorted, gently pushing past him into the apartment. “Do you mind if I use your air conditioner?”

“You know you’re always welcome over here,” Bergy said as he closed and locked the door. “But just one question, did you seriously walk over here in the rain?”

Young, Dumb, and Drunk ~ “I’ll go get refills.”

“Shit."

or

Bergy and Marchy share a drunk bro kiss on the road in Philly

A Series of Stupid Decisions ~ Brad Marchand was famous for making stupid decisions. Licking Ryan Callahan had to be at the top of the list. He never had the best self control in the world and when he got too caught up in the heat of the moment things could go extremely downhill just as fast. He was a pest, sure, and he was really good at it, but he had a real problem with self sabotage. And it always had a habit of rearing its ugly head at the worst times.

Patrice Bergeron Presents: How to Remove a Pest ~ “Yeah that’s right,” one of the Wings players chirped.

“Ignore him,” Bergy said, leaning into Marchy’s ear.

“Gotta get your boyfriend to get you outta trouble.”

Fuck.

My Best Bro ~ His affection for Bergy didn’t end once they left the ice, though. It followed them once they left and went back to the locker room. Hell, it even followed him out of the rinks and back to their apartments. Brad was, unequivocally, the fiercest defender Patrice had. And Bergy knew that, he really appreciated it too. He just wished Brad wouldn’t be so… easily provoked.

Let Me be Your Fire ~ “Patrice, you and Brad Marchand obviously have one of the best relationships in the NHL,” the reporter (Patrice had forgotten his name the second he said it) said, starting another question. “What is it, specifically, that you love about him?”

Patrice huffed a breathless laugh before answering, “You know he’s… he’s a really great hockey player. He teaches me something every time we play together.”

Brad stood still at the door. He couldn’t fight the empty feeling starting to sink into his chest.

Seeing Red ~ I mean really, the National Hockey should have known by now that touching Patrice Bergeron in front of Brad Marchand was going to end up with gloves and sticks and maybe teeth flying. Even if whatever hit or jab was clean, Marchy would still be going into rabid animal mode. It was just science at this point.

Something in the Orange Tells me We're Not Done ~ It was no secret that Brad was a menace to play against. It was also no secret that, publicly, Marchy took pride in being a pest. Bergy’s was the only opinion he really valued. At least, that’s what he had always thought before that dull ache settled into his chest. The empty one that spread to his fingers and toes and made him want to curl up in a hole and die.

Charlie McAvoy/Matt Grzelcyk

Minors and Majors ~ The Grzelcyk family reunion was running late. It always ran late. Matt was just happy that his parents were hosting this year. The already small backyard of their Charlestown triple decker was packed with family members. Matt had claimed a spot right by the back door, making his escape into the house and subsequently up the stairs behind the locked door of his childhood bedroom that much easier.

His ringtone going off was just the saving grace. He made a big show of pulling his phone out of his pocket and pretending the ringtone going off was a call from Bruce instead of a text from Charlie.

Sergeant McAvoy ~ Base security drove Matt crazy. The last thing he wanted to do after a rough loss was pull out every form of identification known to man. And if there was a new person at the gate that didn’t recognize him he needed to go through the whole rigamarole about who he was and explain that, yes, Marines can in fact have husbands.

Baby it's Cold Outside ~ It was a full force blizzard at this point. Matt leaned into the wind and kept walking, fighting against the burning in his lungs. He wheezed and leaned against a building for support. What was he doing out here? He didn’t know how to get back home on foot, hell he didn’t even know where in Brooklyn he was. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. It was totally useless. The snow was so heavy and thick he wouldn’t be able to see anything no matter how close to him it was.

Charlie McAvoy's Ryan Reynolds Obsession ~ Ryan’s new movie started filming in Boston right down the street from the Garden. Charlie had passed the film set on his way into one of the games and almost drove into oncoming traffic. He’d thundered into the locker room and announced loudly to everyone that the love of his life was right down the street.

Give In ~ “I’m Matt,” the man said, extending a hand. “I’m gonna be working with you on your physical therapy.”

“Charlie,” Charlie introduced himself. “Are you new? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Stars Collide ~ Matt felt safe in Charlie’s embrace, like he always did. Especially when he threw a leg over Charlie’s thighs, holding him even closer. It took a while for Charlie to clear his throat and shift awkwardly, pulling his hips away from Matt’s.

“What, do I smell or something?” Matt quipped before he could run through all the possibilities for why Charlie would pull away.

“It’s, uh, it’s not that."

Sic Semper Tyrannis ~ Say what you will about Americans, but they loved a sex scandal. No matter what century it was. There were countless polling numbers that could back that statement up, not to mention all the examples from recent history. As long as there had been politics in America there had been sex scandals. So when Matt Grzelcyk was elected forty seventh President of the United States he was determined to keep his administration as clean as he possibly could. He just didn’t plan on the young reporter from CNN.

Hampus Lindholm/David Pastrnak

Christmas at the Krejci's ~ A lot of people had seasonal depression but David’s was different. He spent a lot of time thinking about his dad this time of year. And when he broke into the league Krejci had taken him under his wing and really acted as a father figure. Now that Krej was back in Boston and playing on a line with Pasta the two of them were visibly happier.

Twitch ~ He made himself comfortable, folding his legs beneath him as he watched. He genuinely had no idea what was going on so he kept his eyes on David. He’d been in loungewear all day, only putting on a beanie, a tank top (one that showed off his full sleeve and drove Hampus absolutely insane), and a pair of gray sweatpants. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world but to Hampus he was absolutely perfect.

Four Points Means Four Orgasms ~ It was a six hour flight from Anaheim to Boston and they had three more hours to go. Hampus could not keep his eyes off David. After the win most of the guys were too amped up to sleep. The sight of Marchy dancing around with Wagner’s tie tied around his head was an entertaining one to say the least, but the only thing Hampus had eyes for was the blond boy with the ear to ear smile on his face sitting diagonally from him. Hampus could feel the excitement and just pure happiness radiating off of him. He couldn’t wait to get them back to their Boston apartment. He had been formulating a plan and ignoring whatever Pavel Zacha was saying for the past twenty minutes.

David Pastrnak and the Intimidating Makeup Bag ~ “Do you want to watch me?” she asked. David nodded excitedly. She smiled and patted the seat beside her. David sat down and rested his hands in his lap as he watched. He was fascinated at how she used the products in front of her. He had never watched someone do their makeup before and he was absolutely fascinated.

Promise (I Never Forgot You) ~ The Swedes and the Czechs both had what they lovingly referred to as secret weapons up their sleeves. Sweden had this defenseman who was absolutely lights out. Despite the fact that he was seventeen he was able to throw his body around on the ice like someone much older than him. And Czechia had this forward, an absolute star. He was sixteen but, shit, he could play.

vous aves du feu ~ “Sorry,” he mumbled, glancing down to the dirtied ashtray. “Just… couldn’t help myself I guess. I won’t do it again.”

“It’s alright,” Hampus said, rubbing David’s shoulder, his fingers dipping beneath his unbuttoned shirt. David couldn’t help but feel he had something else to say though. “Just…”

“Just what?” David’s voice shook as he asked the question. His mind was starting to race the way it always did whenever Hampus had something planned.

“Remember what I said the last time you smoked?”

Man After Midnight ~ “I have a favor I need to ask of you,” Hampus said softly as he played with David’s fingers, their hands joined together on the white table cloth.

“Anything,” David said as he put his wine glass down, smiling at Hampus through the dim lighting of the restaurant.

“Will you cancel your plans for the next two days?”

You Can Touch, You Can Play ~ “What have you been thinking about? Specifically?”

“Well there’s that one lyric,” Hampus said, shifting his gaze from the tiled floor to David’s face.

“Which one?” David asked, swallowing thickly. He knew where this was going.

“I can act like a star,” Hampus began, cupping the side of David’s face. “I can beg on my knees.”

Come Back to Me Now, Darling ~ The thing is… David didn’t mean to fall in love. But he had six foot four of platinum haired Swedish defenseman in front of him so, like, what else was he supposed to do? Not fall in love? Un-fucking-likely.

Take Me to Church ~ Hampus loved watching him squirm. David would start shifting his weight a little bit but that wasn’t enough for his boyfriend. Hampus wanted him to react, to almost lose it and then bring him back in.

When Hampus discovered David’s thing for manspreading he was like a kid on Christmas morning who just opened the newest XBox or Playstation.

Medically Prescribed Cuddles ~ “Do you know what’s up with Pasta? He loves mini golf, did he say anything to you?”

“He probably has a migraine,” Krej shrugged nonchalantly. Hampus blinked at him. “He gets them a lot. I was going to go over to his place after this and check on him.”

“Oh,” Hampus nodded, staring at a spot over Krej’s shoulder as he thought. “Do you mind if I come with you?”

“You know what,” Krej said, a sly smile on his face that was almost imperceptible. “Why don’t you go instead of me.”

Miles and Miles Left to go ~ Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins long after the final buzzer sounded. He was wired on the plane ride home, collecting pats on the back and congratulations from the guys the entire time. He was still turning the puck over in his hands, almost not believing he’d finally reached the fifty goal benchmark.

Upon opening his phone after taking care of the usual post game business he found at least two hundred text messages and voicemails and Instagram notifications. There were only a few he had eyes for, though. The ones from Bergy and Marchy congratulating him and promising him a nice dinner the following night. And the one from Hampus. It was a simple message but he knew exactly what it meant.

Bloody Knuckles ~ “He hit you,” Hampus mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I had to.”

“Hampus, I get hit all the time,” David sighed. “What was so different about this time?”

“I don’t wanna repeat it,” Hampus said, looking down at his feet. David cupped his jaw and tilted his head up to look at him. “He called you a…”

Memories in Ink ~ Pasta had this tattoo. A full sleeve on his right arm. One of Lindy’s favorite things to do when they were relaxing at the end of a long day was trace the lines of ink decorating his skin.

“I kinda wanna get a tattoo,” he said, shifting his head so his chin was resting on his chest.

“Really?” David asked, his face lighting up with a smile. Lindy nodded, a smile of his own tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said. “I love yours and I want one of my own.”

David Krejci/Adam McQuaid

Nap Corners ~ As one of the premier heavyweight fighters in the league not many people expected to find Adam McQuaid cozied up to locker room quiet guy David Krejci. And yet that’s exactly what was found in one of the TD Garden’s many nap corners. Those nap corners had been set up a long time ago and you could only find them if you knew what you were looking for and where you were looking for it.

The Glory Days ~ The initial reason he had come up to the box was to escape the pre-game chaos. Everyone was excited about celebrating his thousandth game and a few (Pasta, namely) were determined to get him to crack a smile. After Nick had joked about gifting him a pulse in the Christmas video Sophia did, it had been a running gag in the locker room. David was half convinced there were bets going around about whether or not he was going to show emotion in the ceremony before puck drop. All told, it was loud in the locker room and David needed to get away.

Sunday Morning Plans ~ “Hey,” Adam said after depositing his gear in its designated spot in the garage. “The team is doing a family skate tomorrow morning, do you want to go with me? You don’t have to, I know you don’t like being cold but-”

“Adam,” David said gently, stopping his rambling before it started. “I would love to go with you. I can’t promise I’ll be very fun, but as long as I’m with you I don’t care.”

Jeremy Swayman/Linus Ullmark

Room 339, Vancouver ~ “You fucking did it, you son of a bitch!” he laughed, letting himself spin around before going in for their normal goalie hug. Linus picked up his hat and pressed it into his chest. “Holy shit, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Tell me about it in the locker room."

Save it For a Rainy Day ~ “Let’s go dance in the rain,” Jeremy smiled widely, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stood in the doorway of the bedroom. Linus closed his eyes, put his phone down, and hesitated before looking at his love.

“What?” he asked, blinking twice and fixing his gaze to Jeremy.

“Come on!” Jeremy exclaimed. He took three wide steps over to the bed and grabbed Linus’s hand, trying to pull him to his feet. “I’ve always wanted to dance in the rain.”

can't complain about much these days (i believe we'll be okay) ~ Somewhere along the line their cuddles became celebratory in addition to calming or grounding. It made sense, really, their go to on ice celebration was the big over dramatic hug that everyone, not just Bruins fans, had grown to love. So why wouldn’t that physical affection carry over into their office celebration?

Hopelessly Devoted ~ Jeremy felt like he was floating in space with nothing tying him down. Aimlessly drifting the cosmos until someone or something found him. He had felt that way for a while. Sure he had friends and family but he was craving something… more. A deeper connection. He wanted to feel anchored no matter where he was.

Linus was not what Jeremy expected to see when he opened his eyes.

i'm starving, darling (let me put my lips to something) ~ “Sit,” he said, pointing to one of the fluffy arm chairs. Jeremy suppressed a whine. Ully had to know what he was doing. There was no way he didn’t. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking about.”

“It’s really nothing,” Jeremy said, shaking his head and staring at Linus’s feet. “I’m just in my own head about some things. It’s not a big deal, I just need to think everything through.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Ully asked, ducking his head as he tried to catch Sway’s eye. “Come on, Jer. Open up to me.”

Okay. He had to know.

or

Sway has suppressed his need to be submissive for so long and he can't deal with it anymore

Brandon Carlo/Trent Frederic

4 Times Brandon Asked for a Hug + 1 Time Trent Asked for One ~ Hug

verb (used with object), hugged, hug·ging. 1.) to clasp tightly in the arms, especially with affection; embrace. 2.) to cling firmly or fondly to; cherish

Mine to Mark ~ “What?” Brandon asked, wheeling around. He jumped up from the couch and walked over to Trent. He opened his mouth to say something about Jeremy almost getting in a fight before he caught sight of the red mark blooming on Trent’s neck. He poked it and said, “What the fuck is that?”

or

Trent goes out and gets a hickey and Brandon gets possessive

Unadulterated ~ The buzzer sounded, the fans roared, and Dirty Water started to play. He had essentially Pavloved himself with that song, ever since Lake Tahoe. Bergy had quietly slipped him a pair of headphones on the plane ride back and he’d listened to it until he knew it word for word. And since the beginning of the season he and Brandon would always share a less than PG-13 moment in the showers after the game. He associated the music with good times, good company, and even better feelings.

'Till the Walls Come Caving in (You'll be Mine) ~ “Is something going on between you and Trent?” Nick asked point blank. Brandon cringed internally and sat down hard in his stall. Nick perched next to him and waited patiently. “Bambi, you can tell me if something's going on.”

“I know,” Brandon sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “We’ve, uh, been doing some stuff together.”

long live the reckless and the brave ~ Trent’s shoulders sagged with the weight of his day. He trudged down the hallway, dragging his feet a little bit as he went. Exhaustion was pulling him downward, tempting him to just curl up right there and take a nap like a feral cat on a stoop. But he could see the front door from where he was. Just a couple more feet.

Miscellaneous

I Can't do This Without You (Debrusk/McAvoy) ~ “JD,” he said steadily. Jake kept pushing his food around his plate. “Jake. Look at me.”

Jake listened, looking over at him. His blue eyes weren’t shining like they usually were. A frown pulled at the corners of Charlie’s mouth. He reached over and patted his shoulder before standing up, turning on his heel, and walking out of the player lounge.

missing piece of me (Pastrnak & Krejci) ~ “I’ll… I’ll talk to you later, Pasta,” Krej said, standing up. Pasta nodded, a blank look on his face as he kept his eyes trained to the table in front of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a silent tear slip from his eyes and trail down his cheek as Krej leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

The feeling of emptiness settled into his chest as he heard the bell on the door jingle as it opened and closed. Krej was gone.

Trade Season Sucks (Forbort/Clifton) ~ Washington Capitals trading Garnet Hathaway and Dimitry Orlov to the Boston Bruins for Craig Smith, Connor Clifton, Jakub Zboril, and draft picks. More details to come.

or

Derek Forbort can't lose his defensive partner

I Won't Tell if You Won't (Lindholm/Lysell) ~ He leaned against the back wall and just observed. This was his first development camp with the Bruins so he was taking his opportunity to see just what he was going to be getting into. His eyes landed on a table in the corner. He recognized John Beecher instantly, but the blond boy sitting across from him got his attention. He tilted his head as he studied the way they interacted. Beech would say something that made the blond boy laugh, the blond boy would respond in kind.

Montreal Makes People Make Bad Decisions (Bergeron/Krejci) ~ Patrice had downed a few shots and some fruity drink handed to him by Looch. But the problem was Patrice was a bit of a lightweight. He could hold his own against the boys but after he had a few shots in his system he became rather unpredictable. And going down on one of the quieter, newer members of the locker room was unpredictable for sure. However he wouldn’t mind if it became predictable.

Czech Mates (Pastrnak/Zacha/Krejci) ~ Right before he left the Devils Miles Wood had caught his elbow and told him to keep an eye out. It wasn’t uncommon for players to… welcome their new teammates or linemates in a less than conventional way. Zacha had brushed him off, saying that there was no way that was a real thing. Wood had just raised an eyebrow and reiterated his warning.

It was around right now that he was wishing he’d listened.

Kinktober

2022

[myyworldinadaze]

lol over here self-diagnosing my mental state. thanks google. well I was actually diagnosed with mild depression and anxiety dosed with repressed grief that's been slowly seeping out of me years after the passing of my mother. I am head of household and carry everything on me. I couldn't afford to break down when my mom died. I had to keep my head on as straight as I could to maintain my whole world around me. I guess the cracks have always been there but barely held together by scotch tape haha. well that's not funny but it is 🙃 with life just throwing shit at me, I guess my mind has been slipping. slowly slipping and now it's kinda picking up the pace recently. now it's like wtf do I do??? mom where are you?? everyone else is on some shit too? oops can't turn to you, damn you going through it? shit gotta seek guidance somewhere. hmmm don't wanna be a bother... guess it's back to internalizing it all again.

so I came across the word "Rumination". the summary of my personal research on the term is that it's pretty much chronic worrying. that was my take on it. maybe someone else may see it differently? constantly thinking about the same negative things over and over. it also stated that over analyzing situations can be considered ruminating. I feel like maybe I have episodes of it? it happens from time to time where I dwell on something traumatic that happened to me and try to go over the memory, dissect it to figure out why it happened. replay the scenario, try to see it from a different angle. it's so maddening.

whenever something stupid happens to me, I guess I ruminate.

idk. I'm letting the juice and whiskey loosen my tongue right now.

gotta venture out in this rain to go and pay my car registration. it's due monday and I actually almost forgot. glad I had it taped to my wall.

[moondeathhorror]

saw x good

Spoilers for Saw X, obviously, but also the rest of the franchise.

What people who haven't seen Saw don't get about it is that it's not exactly torture porn—it's basically a soap opera centered around John Kramer, the Jigsaw Killer, that has torture porn elements. In fact, I think this dual identity is essential to any entry in the franchise, and you need to be invested in both halves for a Saw movie to really work.

So far, I can't think of a Saw that has truly failed on the "torture porn" half. Each movie features at least one or two solid traps (even Spiral!), and they manage to be pretty consistently inventive, letting them be memorable even when the characters trapped in them are lame as all hell. No, where Saw more often fails is on the "soap opera" angle, and that's because unfortunately, the series is bad about keeping good characters around.

ah fuck we killed that guy

The shoestring budgets, rapid production schedule, and hot-potato hiring of the Saw movies ensured that at no point would anyone get to sit down and pre-produce much of anything. Films kept getting greenlit and what are you gonna do, not have a Saw movie out in time for Halloween and the annual "Give 'Til it Hurts" blood drive?? Stupid fool. Of course they were gonna rush the first technically cogent thing out the door and onto the screen! And that's what they did—from 2004 (first Saw) until Saw VII in 2010, there was one out every year.

This seat-of-the-pants mode of writing gave rise to a Saw formula that relied on both a constant stream of pivotal deaths and a sensational twist in the last act. Every film needed a big character reveal, and because the only three real categories in the franchise are "Jigsaw apprentice", "trap victim", and "police", you can guess what happened. The identity of the Saw franchise became, not only torture porn, but the breathless story of Kramer and his apprentices outfoxing the police, complete with blackmail, skulduggery, and betrayal.

This caused some issues, but the Saw series got around these by being famously nonlinear. You kill Kramer in Saw III because you need a big-shock ending? That's OK! Let's hide a tape in his stomach and set the next movie at the same time! You need a big twist for the "final" Saw movie that upends everything we knew so far? Fuck it just show that Wesley was an apprentice the whole time!

The garbled wall of Polaroids and string that is Saw's timeline is a direct consequence both of the quick productions and the third-act twist expectation. Maybe it's confusing and stupid, but it's a central part of the franchise. Saw's story would be nothing without the constant twists and knots. And we care about this constant twisting and untwisting because we've gotten invested in the characters, or at least the character of John Kramer and his constellation of apprentices, and by extension the efforts of the cops to catch them.

so why doesn't Jigsaw work?

A few would argue it does! I have one friend in particular who resolutely insists that it is overhated (though even she would say "works" is a strong word).

What I feel about Jigsaw is that it is uncomfortable with being a Saw film and performs Saw unconvincingly. It's got a scene with Kramer because of course it's gotta have a scene with Kramer, but it's more invested in him giving Jigsaw's new villain that apprentice cred. It's got traps, obviously, but Buckethead and the death collars are kinda aped from previous movies. It's got the detective story and silly reveal going on, but many of Logan's actions feel performed specifically for the benefit of the audience (ironically, empty and theatrical), so it falls flat.

Fundamentally, I think Jigsaw is a bit embarrassed about being a Saw movie and thinks the solution to that is insistent self-seriousness rather than leaning in. It also looks higher-budget, like more of a production, than the previous films, but feels less distinctive as a result. To be honest, I'm a bit of a Spiral defender in this regard; even though it's a bad movie, it is at least successful in doing something new with the franchise, adding some comedy to it and creating a different guy, as compared to Jigsaw, which seems interminably indecisive, uncomfortable with what it is.

back to Kramer

The centerpiece of Saw X's engoodening. X seems committed to making Kramer the protagonist, which is hilarious to watch—the scene in which he calculates the position of Cecilia's hideout is shot, graded, and lit almost like a prestige drama. When we see that he's sketching out the Rack, there's no scary sting, it's just another silly wacky thing lovable old Tobin Bell is thinking about! We even see him display real remorse when Carlos gets caught up in his trapping of Cecilia's gang. X does what no Saw film before has yet had the balls to do and goes straight to "John Kramer as sympathetic protagonist". There's no soap opera in the previous two, no Jigsaw je nais sas quoi. They're clean, pretty, open-and-shut, fucking stupid on a level far too simple.

John Kramer's introduction changes all of this. We get the immediate investment that attends the series regular, the entry is instantly building on already-established events (or, as is Saw's way, awkwardly inserting new ones edgewise), and the trap setup feels like a true return to Jigsaw-Killer form. It's not that the trial maze format is a bad one per se, but you don't need it to make a good Saw movie, and so the creators went without.

lean the fuck in

Essentially, Saw X is a good movie because it is a committed and enthusiastic addition to the Saw franchise. It's not trying to reboot or factory-reset everything. it knows that the characters it has created are magnetic and so it brings them back. It's not trying to add new elements to the franchise that aren't really necessary, like wacky comedy hijinks or Logan. It delivers on the "torture porn" and it delivers as an additional episode in the Ballad of John Kramer, giving it the elements that it needs to succeed as a worthy entry in the Book of Saw.

[thornescratch]

this boy wants the stick and loves to puck - i need more details stat

So there's these novelty shirts with the "this girl wants the stick and loves to puck" text and usually a team logo on it, and they're not to my taste but no judgement if they're yours. Ovi's stick collection is well known by now (here, here, and here if you like) and I always thought it would be kind of hilarious to see stick swapping as, like, a feature of trying to find your soulmate/soulbond, because any time you can mess around with the weird OCD sports rituals as a function of something else, you gotta.

It actually started as a casual porn thing, which was just bb!Ovi being told by one of his teammates as a joke that stick swapping requires sex. And bb!Ovi being, "OKAY.” :D :D :D And then cheerfully banging his way through the NHL in a variety of ways for sticks. He figures it out, of course, by the end of his rookie year. But Ovi frankly likes sex, is good at sex, doesn't mind having sex with most people, and is more than happy to take advantage of using a stick swap request as a pick up line as well, so why not.

Then, ugh, it grew plot and worldbuilding. So, it's sorta all about stickswapping as a way to find your soulmate, and Alex Ovechkin cheerfully collecting sticks and giving the hockey world conniptions over whether or not he's got a soulmate, and putting pictures of his stick collection on instagram, and Don Cherry having mouth-frothing sessions about how GOOD CANADIAN BOYS DON'T JUST SHOW OFF THEIR STICK COLLECTIONS LIKE THAT WHAT IS HE SOME KIND OF STICK SLUT. HE NEEDS TO SETTLE DOWN.

Occasionally Ovi gets snide rumors about him sleeping around with swapping. "Dude is so desperate for a Cup, he's doing anything to find a soulbond." (There are Ovi and Crosby truthers, who insist they're soulmates but that they're hiding it for some reason, since they totally swapped sticks and even jerseys. Crosby ignores it, and Ovi actively trolls it.) There are different cultural things around soulbonds and stick-swapping, European vs. North American traditions, what it means if you swap sticks across positions, if you ask on or off the ice, if it happens at an All Star Game...

As with everything I write, it’s a big ol’ pile of self indulgence.

"Maybe it's a goalie," Willy suggests a few days after the SportsCenter segment airs and the mood in the room has stopped cautiously tiptoeing around the elephant in the corner.

"It's not a goalie," Alex says.

"Maybe it's Lundqvist," Burky adds on, his eyes big and round.

"It's not Lundqvist," Alex says a little more irritably. "Anyway, I have his stick already, you know that. It's not him. We say so, if yes. We not."

He doesn’t bother to point out that with the number of times they’ve matched with New York in the playoffs, of course he would have fucking said something by now if it was true. He would also have taken out ads in all the New York papers and possibly hired a plane to fly a banner over their hockey arena just to be really obnoxious about it.

“Shouldn’t you be on the ice already,” Nicky says to the kids, and they scramble out with the appropriate amount of urgency.

Alex snorts when they’re the only ones left in the locker room. He tosses a tape ball in Nicky’s direction. “You don’t need to.”

“I like to,” Nicky says. “Shouldn’t you be on the ice?”

“You know me, I gonna touch all sticks while everyone not here,” Alex says. “Like pervert. You know.”

“Maybe lick them too,” Nicky says with a completely straight face, and then he smiles and it breaks up the last of the sharp edges that have been rubbing inside his chest ever since the stupid fucking segment aired, and Alex smiles back.