#without all the powers stuff - which is supposed to be the hard part

[emacrow]

Jazz always wanted a little brother.

Her best friend's mommy having a baby brother in her tummy, but right now they were at gotham, mom was meeting with some important people while she stay safe in the car with dad sleeping in the front passenger seat.

When she asked her mom and dad for a baby brother earlier that same week, mom had to explained that her tummy was broken after she had her because she was a very special miracle baby because they tried so hard to have her.

Jazz understood but at the same time, she wanted- no she need a baby brother, maybe one with dad's hair and mom's eyes, or maybe one with hair like hair and dad's eyes.

And she was determined, as she snuck out of the fentomobile car, sneaking inside beside the scary ninjas guards that were temporarily distracted.

She was very good at sneaking around thanks to mom training her to stay quiet and hide better then a ghost.

There was pools of ectoplasmic but much dirtier and less cleaner then the stuff mom and dad work with. Container and chambers full of them.

She saw doctor walking out of one room and snuck in before the the door close on her. There was another ectoplasmic container that had babies in them..

One sleeping upside down and the other upside up. The one of the bottom was sleeping but the older has his eyes open, revealing pretty blue eyes like dad's eyes.

She chewed on her bottom lip a bit and weigh her short limited choices as nodding.

She close her eyes, focusing as she quickly started to float a bit wobbly, sticking her small hands onto the glass ectoplasmic ball using her secret powers that she had learned without mom and dad noticing.

Her invisible hand grabbed the baby slowly, making it invisible as she pulled it out of the ectoplasmic ball.

The baby was very small and light then a feather while covered in wet ectoplasm goop.. the baby cough a bit, dripping ectoplasm out his mouth, squirming a bit as he was about to make a fuzz but quiet down as she held him close into her warm fuzzy jacket.

She snuck back out of the room and quickly out of the place all the way back into fentonmobile..

Covering the baby with her Einstein bear designed blanket, cleaning the baby up like she would with her baby dolls, and she open the empty toy baby bottle and open her mini almond milk jug, then pour the milk in and close it, after remembering to cut a little open hole on the tip of the hard plastic nibble part.

Scooting over to the baby, and carefully picking him up and helding him close onto her lap like she seen the mommy do on TV as she press the toy baby bottle again the baby's mouth.

It would be 1 hour later before mom came back looking excited then 2 hours later after they left gotham before a soft baby wail woke her dad from the backseat of the fenton car where jazz was.

Jazz was pink in the face as she was trying to hide the baby but she couldn't stop him from crying.

It would 20 minutes of jazz lying straight to her parents's faces on where she found the baby, and it would forever be her only best lie she ever told that convinced them to adopt the baby boy that was now named danny..

Meanwhile back at league of Assassin headquarters. The head scientist has noticed that the first unborn twin baby has been removed early then schedule, probably due to natural condition of death since the first one has a much weaker pulse compared to the second unborn baby which Talia had name Damian later.

The leading scientist check off the existence of the supposed first born who went without a name on the data base...

Unknownly to both parties, Jazz was very happy to have a little brother of her own now, even if his eyes flashes green a bit from time to time.

Ao3 story made here <-

[tryandbehappy]

Why were we so deceived by Nick and June’s story?

I’m still trying to find a logical explanation for what happened. Why were Nick and June’s scenes filmed so epically — what was the point of it all, if in the end she just hated him and let him die without any powerful tragedy? And yesterday I suddenly remembered the whole improvisation thing — Elizabeth Moss often changed scenes. For example, she changed the ending of 6.03 just “for fun,” suggesting to say “see you later” — which wasn’t in the script at all. She just wanted to make it “original.” And in 4.03, she wanted something “epic,” so she shot it with a spinning camera because it looked cool

But here’s the thing: what if she just got carried away?And maybe it wasn’t just her — maybe the whole team did. They let her direct episodes, and she turned them not into a part of a larger, thought-out story, but into little standalone films. She wanted to try all the “cool stuff”: camera tricks, stylistic experiments and of course, show Max from every possible angle. Because she adored him and was fangirling hard.

“Oh, what a beautiful neck he has. Oh, how amazing he kisses. Fans will scream if I shoot it this way. We’ll make history.”

It’s like from the very start, everyone was obsessed with their chemistry and decided to milk it as much as possible, not within the logic of the narrative or where it was heading, but just because it was cool. Damn, look how he kisses. Damn, look how fans react. Let’s do more of that.

And nobody cared whether it actually fit the story.

No one seemed to think that these moments — they’re communication with the viewer. That there’s such a thing as visual language. Editing logic. Symbolic continuity. You can’t just throw in a random scene because you feel like it. That’s not how storytelling works.

Meanwhile, Max was the only one who seemed to just do the job. He followed direction. He gave it his all. He respected Lizzie, he respected the project. You could feel that he genuinely cared where the story would go. But everyone else? They were off in their own world, high on their own emotions, loving what they were creating — but not giving a damn about the actual arc.

And someone should’ve been in charge of that. That’s the real issue.

Because here’s the real problem: the lack of leadership. In any creative project, there has to be someone who holds the whole arc in their head. Someone who can say “no” when a scene is pretty but breaks the story. Someone who knows how to connect emotional moments into a coherent whole. Someone who makes sure improvisation serves the story — not destroys it.

But here? There was no one like that. Everyone was doing their own thing. Someone vibed with the camera. Someone vibed with the actors. Someone vibed with their own importance.

And in the end, we got a mess. A hot pile of garbage — with some moments of absolute brilliance.

That’s why nothing adds up.

And the most ironic part? Now Lizzie’s mad at us. They worked so hard! And we “just didn’t get it.” We “just liked Max too much” (yeah, like she did once, let’s be honest).

But what she still doesn’t understand is that a series is not a collection of pretty scenes. A great show is cohesive. It has meaning. Direction. Intent.

Beautiful scenes are supposed to build toward something — not replace it. The story is supposed to go somewhere.

But instead, they filmed their little “highs,” their fun, their fantasies… And then acted surprised when we didn’t clap.

[fairlyang]

Like that ⚔️

w/c: 1.2K

pairing: bf!wadewilson x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. you miss him so bad, secretly masturbating, but he planned it, phone sex, dirty talk, voice kink, mutual masturbation, absolute freaks, knife play mention, blood mention, ghostface roleplay mention, freaky af

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

wade was fortunate enough to get a pretty girlfriend after vanessa rejected him. he moved on once he laid his eyes on you.

you two together were the horniest people alive right from the get-go and that never changed even a whole year after being together.

now you were alone for a whole week because he went on an x-men mission with colossus to another state and you were already craving his touch.

for the past half hour he had been rambling on about his day and how they nearly lost the mutant they were suppose to find when you had an amazing idea.

you held your phone to your left ear and started to gently squeeze your tits with your right hand as he kept talking. you just hummed, not really paying attention to what he’s saying but more to his annoyed tone.

he sounded good.

it was nearing close to his bedroom voice which was probably why it turned a gear in your mind to get horny. you moved your hand down your legs and started to rub your clit while attempting to let out normal responses so he didn’t suspect anything.

but wade being the fucking genius he was, had been doing it on purpose. hell he was so committed to hearing you attempt to pay attention that he was improv-ing. he had missed you just as much, if not more than you him, that he wanted to see how long it’d take until you broke before he did.

meanwhile he was already out of his suit and only in boxers in the motel they were staying at. he didn’t even have to convince colossus to get separate rooms, he knew him too well that he had to do it for his own mental wellbeing.

wade had been stroking himself through his boxers while talking, something he’s been use to doing a handful of times already without you knowing but he wanted to flip the script tonight and you fell for the bait.

“so then i told the tin can to go fucking screw himself sideways and upside down because i was doing all the work! who does he think i am, his wife?” he rambles on and that’s when you stopped your movements and he bit his lip to not laugh. 

you were silent for a few seconds because a part of you was listening and before he was saying how he was letting colossus do all the work, “wade what in the fuck are you on about?” you ask and he bursts out laughing. 

“listen cupcake, i wanted to do a little experiment… let’s just say i pavlov dogged you because i want you to be horny at the same time as me.” he explains and you gasp, “you sneaky fuck!” 

“you think i can’t hear how you’re practically out of breath? come on baby, you can’t hide shit from me.” he teases and you bite your lip. 

“now let’s get to it because as soon as we got to this rust bucket i got rock hard thinking of you.” he says, making you let out a small moan.

“aw you like that don’t you, sweet pea? love hearing how just thinking of you drives me fucking insane?” he murmurs and you just nod, circling your clit with two fingers. 

“you know i do baby- i love it so much.” you mutter and he grunts. 

he slips a hand into his boxers and takes his cock out, spits on it then starts to stroke himself just so you could hear it. “my fucking god i wish you had teleportation powers- fuck i’d kill anyone in my line of sight for you to be here.” he groans and stroked himself fast because he was too antsy. 

“wanna feel your hands on me, touching and groping me everywhere.” you whimper and close your eyes, imagining your fingers are his and not yours. 

going for more than a day without fucking was like not breathing, it was serious stuff. 

“fuck don’t say that you’re gonna make me miss those tits even more.” he complains and you could just picture the pout on his face. 

“need your mouth on them.” you say breathlessly and rub your clit faster, already feeling your arousal seep through your panties. 

“fuck baby-“ he moans and you could hear him working on his cock fast too so you copied his pace. 

“wanna sit on your lap while you do it so i can grind against you.” you murmur, your hips bucking up against nothing. 

“you’re actually going to kill me.” he murmurs and sinks into the pillow. 

“mm i’d already be nice and wet for you but you know i love some teasing..” you say earning yourself more grunts from him. 

“is that pretty pussy dripping for me already baby?” he asks and you hum. 

you quickly move your panties to the side and slide two fingers against your folds, “mhm.. you hear that? all ready for you baby.” 

he moans as soon as he hears the sounds of your sweet pussy talking to him, taunting him. “my fucking god i need you on my face.” he pants and increases his speed again. 

“you have no idea how much i wish i said no to this whole thing. need to take care of my girl daily and this job-“ he starts to complain but you interrupt, “you’ll make it up for me by fucking me all night long when you come home.” 

he moans and his eyes roll to the back of his head, “gonna fuck you so good we’re gonna have to get a new bed stand.”

you giggle and quickly slip your fingers in, immediately matching his pace because you needed to cum. “next one should be halloween themed.” 

“god i love when you talk dirty.” he mutters, making you whimper. 

“dirty fucking girl- what do you want chucky or myers? or maybe ghostface so we can have another excuse to roleplay.” he suggests and you quickly nod. 

“maybe we can use knives again…” you whisper, making him let out a loud moan. 

“maybe i’ll be the one in costume and hold a knife to your neck….” you purr and he feels his lower abdomen reacting. 

“fuck baby i’m close.” he mutters and you quickly pump your fingers harder. 

“you’d like that feeling of my knife pressed against you, wouldn’t you baby? just draw a little bit of blood, afterall your favorite color is red…” you murmur, making him absolutely lose it. 

“i would- fuck i’d fucking love it- fuck- god i need it so bad baby please-“ he pleased and it brought you closer to the edge. 

that feeling in your stomach that came too often, one that was usually caused by him. technically it still counts but you wished he was there. 

“we’re doing this as soon as you’re home- hell maybe i’m in the closet in that motel you’re in…” you say in a low voice, hoping to scare him for a second at least. 

as soon as those words came out of your mouth, he let out the hottest mixture of moans and grunts. his load spilled out even more than usual and some even landed on to his chest, hell almost reaching his mouth. 

your body quickly followed suit, the sounds coming out of him being enough for your entire body to shake as your orgasm hit you harder than it has by your own fingers. 

he quickly murmured sweet praises to you as you rode your high and you nearly let go of your phone. your body was shaking and you only wished he was there to hold you but hearing his voice was able to calm you down.

[gguk-n]

Can you please write second change romance with Lando where reader tells him "Love me. chose me. for once in your damned life, fight for me!"

Reader is working at sky sports as a journalist. I hope you like it. I hope I did it justice.

Track of the Heart

{Reader's POV}

I knew the world was a small place and some times you run into people you are actively trying to avoid. For me, that was Lando Norris.

We were both young and in love. He was my first serious adult relationship. I loved him deeply; if you asked drunk me, I'd probably say that I still love him. But that was the past. He broke up with me because his fans didn't like me. The hate had gotten to the point that I had stopped using my phone except to call or text my friends and family and Lando knew. I had told him through tears about all the mean things people said about me. Part of me hoped that he would tell them off for it but what I didn't expect was for him to disregard it and let it get so bad that even at races people would name call me, even in front of Lando and he would do nothing. It affected my health, my mental peace and my studies. So, I did what was best for me; walked away.

That was 3 years ago. Right now I was standing face to face with the man that broke my heart. I knew when I applied for a position at Sky Sports that I would run into Lando. Luckily, I had stayed clear of him for the year that I had interned there; by only going to cover other sports and minor leagues. Today, the team was short staffed, they needed someone to help make the scripts and organise the cue cards, so they brought along a couple new hires. I did everything in my power to evade the race because it would mean being stuck on an F1 venue for a whole weekend with my ex. My direct superior wouldn't listen to any of my crap, as he put it and told me to pack my stuff and to meet him at the venue.

So here I was, awkwardly standing, in front of the supposed love of my life. He looked shocked to see me before his eyes flickered to the Sky Sports entry pass, as if a switch flipped. He smiled and greeted; "You're finally a sports journalist, like you always wanted to be. Congratulations" he said while raising his hand to shake mine. Out of courtesy, I moved all the files in my hands to my left and shook his hand. "My colleagues were saying you had your maiden win this season, so Congratulations I guess." I retorted. I adjusted the files in my hands, almost dropping one, which Lando quickly caught with his hand. I thanked him and left to see the team with all my files.

{Lando's POV}

Her hands were still soft like I remembered them with a sweet tinge of vanilla, her favourite body lotion. She had coloured her hair recently and she looked so much more professional and put together then I remembered. I guess it comes with the job. Hearing her congratulate me felt like home even if it felt like it was laced with sarcasm, like the only thing that ever mattered. How did I even celebrate a race without her? She was still clumsy I thought as I caught the file she almost dropped. The weekend just got more eventful I thought as she walked away.

--------------------------------------------------------

{Reader's POV}

If there is one thing I will advice you is that don't be a hard worker especially in a situation if it will land you working with your ex for the whole year. One of the members from the F1 team went on maternity leave and she spoke so highly of me that I ended up working on the races till she returned. Now to my horror, all the fans still remembered me. Even after 3 years, they did not hesitate to start up rumours about me and Lando being together and that we never really broke up and it was all a publicity stunt. I had to speak to my bosses to let them know that all of that was in the past and that I wasn't dating him anymore; they didn't care unless it affected my work.

Working at the paddock wasn't easy and Lando didn't make it any easier. He acted like a menace before and after interviews especially if I was around. Sometimes I wanted to strangle him.

{Lando's POV}

Being around her reminded me why I had fallen in love with her in the first place. She brought the idiotic side of me out. "Mate, you need to stop annoying Y/N. She'll strangle you one day." Carlos said while they were on the drivers parade. "She wouldn't. There's a reason she's tolerating me." I said. "Yeah, sky sports pays her to do her job." Carlos laughed. Part of me wanted to believe that she tolerated me because she still loved. But I knew that was selfish of me, since the reason we broke up lay heavily on me.

This made me want to be closer to her. I guess proximity made the heart softer. I found myself bringing her snacks or treats during her long days. Slowly but surely I found myself back in her arms. We didn't out right say it, but we were dating each other. She made the weekends even more enjoyable. It was exhilarating to be running around trying not to get caught; until we did get caught. It was like a switch flipped inside her and she stopped seeing me.

{Reader's POV}

The gifts and the sneaking away and having someone care for me got to me. Before I knew it I was back in Lando's arms. I knew getting back together with Lando was a bad idea. All my suspicions were confirmed when a picture of us leaving together from a club in Las Vegas made rounds. The hate was worse then before; it's like they forgot there was a person behind it all. I couldn't even shut off social media because of my work. I didn't want to be seen with him anymore; I was going to stop reporting for F1 and live my life covering other sports. Hopefully they didn't find me there. Lando was still persistent even after I had stopped talking to him and cut him off.

"Babe, you gotta stop running away from me." Lando spoke cornering me, out of breath from the running. "I have work to do, if you'll excuse me Mr Norris." I said. "Since, when was I Mr Norris?" He questioned. "Since a while, I never should've gotten back with you." I declared. "You don't mean that." Lando stammered. "Actually I do." saying that broke my heart because deep down I loved him but it didn't feel like he loved me. "But I love you. Don't you love me?" he asked. "It doesn't matter what I feel, when you'll never reciprocate it." I pointed out. "What do you mean?" he pleaded. "Lando, the exact reason we broke up was because you couldn't stick up for me. I knew you and yet I got myself involved in this." I sighed. "But, baby I need you." he voiced. I laughed, there were tears in my eyes, "Not enough to stick up for me." "What's gotten into you?" Lando probed. "Nothing's gotten into me, I should've stayed away from you. Your fans hate me, they always have. They want me fired; did you know that?" I asked. Lando was at a loss for words.

"You know when we broke up I wanted you to want me. But you love your fans more." I commented. "It's not like that I love you more, I missed you a lot after we broke up." he said. "Not enough to clear the air anyways." I voiced out. "What do you want me to do?" Lando asked trying to reach for my hands. "Love me, choose me. For once in your damned life, fight for me. If you really want me you'll do something, or you can watch me walk away for the second time." I stated while turning on my heels and leaving.

I did not expect Lando to do what he did next. He made a statement on every social media account of his, even Quadrants; it read-

Hi guys, Lando here. I would like to let you all know that I love Y/N Y/L/N who is currently working for Sky Sports F1. We used to date a few years ago but we broke up because of my foolishness. Fate gave me another chance and I don't want to blow it. If any of you have any issue with her, keep it to yourself. Because she is here to stay for as long as she will have me. Kindly refrain from sending her any hate if you love and support me. If you do send hate, I will be forced to take legal action to protect the love of my life.

I was sat in shock reading the statement. I can already imagine the train wreck McLaren PR must be in. I was pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on my door. I opened it to find a sweaty Lando with a big bouquet of flowers, chocolates and a couple gift bags. "I know this isn't a lot, but this is a start. Let me apologise. I'm sorry for all the hurt I caused you. Please take me back." he said with tears in his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I love you too Lando Norris." I declared. Lando dropped all the stuff on the ground and wrapped his arms around me. "I won't let you down, I promise." he said. "I'll hold you to it." I said. "You can hold it against me for the rest of our lives." he told. "I don't think you want me that long." I laughed. He broke our embrace to cup my cheeks, "I'll have you as long as you'll let me stay." and pressed a kiss against my lips. "I think I'll like to have you inside for now." I said while pulling him in and closing the door.

[lemotmo]

The Internet will absolutely break that day. I cannot believe how real it's starting to feel. 🎉🎉🎉

Q. I cannot believe they waited for rain. They filmed the rest of the episode weeks ago but waited for the rain to film the goodbye scene. They waited for the rain!! My only niggle of complaint is that Eddie is already back by episode 13 which means it's going to feel rushed. I was hoping to have several episodes of focus. I don't want Buddie to feel rushed in any way.

A. No seriously the fact that they purposely waited for the rain makes me light headed. They intentionally want that scene to be in the rain. Rain is such a powerful Buddie aesthetic. It's been used in every one of their 'goodbye' scenes: the well collapse, the lightning strike, and now the Texas move. Rain is often used in scenes to convey sadness, sorrow, anguish or dread. Setting that scene in the rain adds to the emotions that both characters are experiencing in that scene. The fact that it is just the two of them and not the entire 118 family is also a really loud choice. They have done that with Buck and Eddie from the beginning. Yes they are part of the 118 family as a whole, but they, along with Christopher, are a separate family unit of their own, and I love that they make a point of emphasizing that. Putting them in the exact same colors as the day they met is a god tier brain choice. That is genius work. I'm obsessed with everything about it. I also completely believe that the goodbye scene is in rain so the reunion scene can be sunlit. I think one of the big reasons why they wanted the goodbye scene to be in the rain was so they could contrast that scene with a sunlit reunion scene (separate scene of course but the first kiss needs to be at sunset. I need a sunset kiss for the payoff of the 'there was construction on sunset' scene that both Oliver and Ryan have referenced. I need a sunset first kiss). They have felt inevitable for some time now but that BTS video just reinforced that belief so strongly. Everything about that scene was romantic coded, not best friend coded. That kind of feels like a legitimate 'it begins' moment.

Giving a storyline multiple episode focus doesn't guarantee a satisfactory story at all. They can absolutely accomplish everything they need from Eddie being in Texas in one episode if they make it a bottle episode. It needs the complete episode focus. They can open the episode at the 118 with something like Buck staring down at his phone and Chimney or Hen can make some wisecrack about a watched phone never ringing and Buck can then say he and Eddie talked last night and today is the day Eddie and his parents are supposed to talk and Eddie told him he would call him when it was done. Then cut to Eddie standing in front of his parents house and the rest of the episode takes place in Texas in Eddie's old house. They don't have to do more than a single episode of focus that way because you have Eddie and his parents, we one hundred percent have to see a conversation between Eddie and his parents, and then Christopher joining in at some point. That's everyone you need to accomplish the Texas stuff in one central location. It would not be hard to do and it would not be something 911 isn't capable of doing. It doesn't need multiple episode focus as long as it gets the appropriate focus. If Buddie is the ultimate goal this season, something that looks more and more likely by the day, they have to fix the Christopher situation first. He is too big a part of their unit. They cannot move forward on the Buddie front until the Christopher situation has been addressed and dealt with in some capacity. They cannot move forward on the Christopher front without Eddie acknowledging and addressing the issue of his parents wanting to be the ones who raise Christopher. Those have to be addressed prior to any major Buddie movement. I do think episode 118 is the episode where they want some kind of major Buddie movement to occur, or gay/queer canon Eddie to occur. So that doesn't allow a ton of episodes to play with. They have to be focused and disciplined in the storytelling. A bottle Texas episode gives them the best chance to advance everything forward in the most satisfying way possible given the time they have to work with.

We are seven seasons into the Buck and Eddie thing, anon. It is not possible to consider them rushed in any way at this point. Do you know the relationship that was rushed? Bobby and Athena. That relationship had no build up whatsoever. She sat with him on a curb in one episode and he asked her to go to church with him then BAM making out between fire trucks. Zero build up at all. They did all of the build up after they got together and it worked. Neither character was really ready for a relationship. Bobby was downright suicidal but no one cared. No one cared how quickly it happened. No one cared that when held to real life standards they had absolutely no business embarking on a relationship with one another at that point. No one cared. No one complained. No one said it was too fast to be believable or to be good. Their relationship is beautiful and messy because they're beautiful and messy. The fact that it happened when the timing wasn't perfect is irrelevant in every way. So I'm not going to play the 'I want Buddie but A B C D needs to happen first or else it's wrong' game with people. Not that that's what you're saying, I'm just tired of seeing the I want it but takes. We have seven seasons of build up. Why do people not get that? We have countless scenes that are just waiting to be used in a montage signposting their inevitably. Who else has 7 seasons of build up? They are hitting every rom com trope imaginable: found family, Christopher has two dads, enemies to besties (yes the enemy part lasted half an episode but it still counts), forced proximity (Bobby forced them to be partners when Eddie first arrived and the bomb removal in the ambulance), opposites attract ( hello golden retriever and black cat energy), idiots in love who aren't aware of the fact that they're in love, sad pitiful parting in the rain, and finally building towards friends to lovers. They are truly the entire package. There is nothing fast or out of the blue about what's coming. It has quite literally been building towards this for years. I am going to soak up every single drop they feed us. If that video taught me anything it is that I honestly might faint when they kiss for the first time because the energy from the goodbye video alone was enough to give me palpations. And look at the social media activity it generated. They're going to break the Internet when it happens and I cannot wait. It's time. It's clearly where it looks to be heading. And it's the right way to go. If someone doesn't want it for whatever reason that's their prerogative, but I am not entertaining the arguments about why the timing doesn't feel right because that's nonsense. It is absolutely time. Let's go 🩷🩷

Thank you Nonny!

YES YES AND YES to everything that Ali wrote here!

I just want to add something. I'm not sure we'll get actual canon Buddie that soon. I think we'll get both of their realisations very early on in 8b and we'll see them struggle with the reality of that, which will come with different difficulties for both of them.

But actual Buddie canon? I'm betting that Tim will show us the talks with Maddie and Hen, the pining and the longing throughout 8b and then in the two last episodes something major will happen and everything will come to light. And then their first kiss will happen, in the final episode of 8b, in the light of the sunset in Eddie's kitchen and it'll be perfect. ❤️❤️❤️

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[felassan]

Mass Effect: The Official Cocktail Book (Part 1 of 2)

[you can get the book here]

Drink, food, and other lore blurbs from this book. (The book also contains the associated real-world recipes and photography thereof. This post only contains the in-world lore segments).

this post is Part 1 of 2. Rest of post is under a cut due to length. [Link to Part 2]

If there's a particular drink/food you'd like to see the recipe and or picture for, lmk.

Introduction: Written in 2184 CE by “Ambree T’Sia”, identity classified It’s a big galaxy out there. Numerous planets and their inhabitants, all jockeying for power, prestige, and precedence. With these competing agendas often clashing, seldom mixing, sometimes you need a swig of something stiff to get you to the next Relay. Well, you’ve come to the right place. And me? Nine hundred years (give or take) and a variety of careers and aliases later, I hustle my way through the galaxy by the name of Ambree T’Sia these days. It’s the one fiction that allows me to keep the rest of the story honest – with varying degrees, depending on the situation. What I can share is this: a former asari huntress, I left the military bureaucracy to lead a small covert unit of ex-commandos focused on espionage and assassination outside of official channels. More effective and more fun that way. In my earlier years, I quickly learned that the best way to collect information is to buy a merc a drink or talk to the entertainers. The more I relied on bars and nightclubs to gather intel, the more connections I made with the key players. Not just the ones in the back office, but the ones slinging drinks with closed mouths and open ears. I started posing as a bartender myself and got quite good at it. Enjoyed it, even. I couldn’t exactly stay put for, well, reasons. But among those in the know, I’m still the go-to source for recommendations about the Milky Way’s best bars and nightclubs. After one too many “you should write a book!” jokes, I did. Guns and bribes in this economy? A cocktail guide seemed like an ideal little side hustle to help fund my more targeted activities. With this pen name, I’m free to share my favorite anecdotes about well-known figures across civilizations. I’ve also included a few safety tips for surviving the galaxy, setting your drink on fire, or respecting local drinking ages. (If you’re not legal, close this book up and come back when you are, babe.) I guess I just don’t believe in accidental injuries. For those feeling brave, go ahead and speculate about who I truly am. I’m not worried in the least. Because you won’t guess, and I’ll never tell… -- “Ambree T’Sia”

MIXERS Whether you’re slinging the hard stuff or milder “hair of the FENRIS Mech that bit you” drinks, mixers are the essential building blocks to any good bar. By all means, keep your favorite fruit juices, sodas, and whatnots on hand. But as someone who tends to move around a lot due to my… profession (I’m a master of the Asari Goodbye), I tend to lead a minimalist lifestyle. As such, I keep these mixer recipes on file to prepare quickly, as I need them. Let’s just say that they’ll keep your cocktails interesting.

Blue Thessia

Yes, mama is supposed to love all her babies the same, but this mixer is my favorite for its taste and versatility. (Hmm… sound like any cocktail authors you know?) Named after the asari homeworld, the Blue Thessia is the crown jewel of your bar essentials. You’ll predominantly taste sweet juniper and recognize that bold, asari-blue color. You could make your drinks without Blue Thessia, but that’s programming a Quantum Blue Box type AI and not giving it a sexy voice. What a wasted opportunity! Do be aware that this one contains trace amounts of element zero – nothing to concern yourself about, though, and it does keep things nice and sparkly.

Tuchanka Dry

This is the good stuff and it’s very hard to come by, which is why I make my own. Tuchanka Dry is similar to a fat-washed bourbon, which not only adds the flavor of the fat to the spirit, but also its texture and weight. If you’re making a Full Biotic Kick (page 43), well, this part’s the “kick”. Traditionally made with Thresher Maw fat (I did say it was hard to come by), this recipe started as a krogan rite-of-passage celebratory drink, when leftover fat from the kill was mixed together with alcohol. If you prefer dodging grocery carts over acid spit, you can make your own and get a surprisingly similar taste by substituting bacon.

Horse Choker

I’ve often found fighter pilots to be aggressive and competitive, so it delights me that this recipe I procured from a hot-tempered Alliance pilot named Jeff “Joker” Moreau Is instead indulgent and harmonious. The chocolate and espresso flavors combined with the spiced rum work oh so well together in a luxurious cooperation that especially enhances minty drinks. But don’t take my word for it – if you’re feeling a little spicy and hot-tempered, you might find this mixer helpful when you toss back a few shots of Joker’s Challenge (page 98) with your closest frenemies.

Simple Syrup

An essential building block for cocktails. Any well-stocked bar has a traditional simple syrup on hand. If you’re new to cocktail making and a bit apprehensive, start here – just add sugar to boiling water. See? Simple. As you’ll see, I prefer twice as much sugar to water. It’s on the richer side and your mileage may vary, as they say. Be aware that you don’t want to let too much water evaporate, or the syrup will reduce and cook down to something resembling krogan poetry: thicker and sweeter than expected. (Try to get past one stanza of Blue Rose of Illium without rolling your eyes out of their sockets, I dare you.)

Salarian Salination Solution

Successfully made your way through the Simple Syrup recipe (page 13) but still feel like you need one more easy win? Perhaps a mixer that’s ideal for citrus-heavy cocktails? Make this bartender’s saline next and keep in mind that science doesn’t always have to be complicated. Science is also very useful, and you’ll find this mixer in a variety of recipes throughout this book. (For the more adventurous, the Liquified Turian on page 57 is a must.) Now, if you think adding sea salt to warm water isn’t exactly “science”, then your name isn’t Sel Vass – a double-crossing salarian bartender who fancies himself an “intoxicologist”. I have… thoughts on that, which is why I’ve named this Salarian Salination Solution after him. And if your name is Sel Vass, I’m going to add your kidneys to my next bar menu – preferably with you still alive. (I’ve heard that when the Protheans did this to your ancestors, they found the fear adds “spice”).

Tupo Concentrate

I love a good Tupo Concentrate: it has a delicious balance of mouth-puckering tartness and euphoric sweetness. The only problem? I can never find any berries! Tupari sports drink-makers horde as much as they can to sell “12 trillion bottles per day”, despite only containing 10 percent real tupo juice (goddess only knows what the other 90 percent of that swill is). Fortunately, grenadine is a perfect substitute for when you’re looking to add a beautiful hue and unexpected depth of flavor to your cocktail.

Drell Skin Venom

Like bitters, Drell Skin Venom adds a nice bite, making your cocktail extraordinarily complex with just a few drops. Now, you might think that enough Drell Skin Venom may grant the memory-recall properties of its erstwhile secretor, but it’s more likely that the high alcohol content (which keeps it in heavy rotation at swanky bars like the Silver Coast Casino) will create more plot holes in your life than the salarian extranet drama Dynasty of Stars (with the same amount of nausea - stick to science, you excitable little amphibians!)

Asari Honey Syrup

For the occasions where you’re looking to spice things up, I’d suggest using this honey syrup. It’s just as versatile as its simple syrup sister but adds a bit more flavor. This particular mixer has a spicy little background as well: the original recipe was made in an Ardat-Yakshi monastery and its honeyed flavor is as alluring as its makers. Considering said makers enjoy nothing less than total domination, however, this syrup is unexpectedly collaborative with numerous drinks and flavors.

AFTERLIFE CLUB What is Afterlife? Why, the ultimate in illicit entertainment. Iconic, chic, ready to show you a good time… but mind your manners. Under all that polish, Afterlife is seething with violence just under the surface. A locus of power and secrecy – is it any wonder the glitzy club sports an ethic of violence and greed? And that’s just how this nightclub’s patrons, and its Pirate Queen, prefer things. Aria T’Loak oversees this particular multilevel palace of paradise and perdition on the space station Omega. And yes, its lure entices millions around the galaxy to leave their ordinary lives for extraordinary adventures, so be sure to show her the proper respect. She’s shot people she liked far more for way less. The recipes in this section are her top sellers – perfect for when you’d rather spend the night in than risk getting poisoned by a batarian bartender with a grudge against humans.

The Omega Sling

This cocktail is a personal favorite of mine from Afterlife for a reason. It’s sweet, tart, bitter, fruity, and spicy all at once. A complex little thing, and a single-serving punch that can also pack one. While it’s definitely a drink made to impress (look at that list of ingredients!), for me, it tastes like personal accomplishment. I once led a raid on a CAT6 outpost that nabbed enough high-end military gear to outfit my crew for a long, long time. It was a bastard to plan, just like the Omega Sling, but that only made the victory that much sweeter.

Blue Sun Spritz

Did you know that the Blue Suns mercenary group was founded by a batarian named Solem Dal’serah? That’s the public-facing story they’d prefer you believe, at least. And to celebrate said founding, Solem toasted the group with this hard-hitting wine spritz. The color ends up being a rich deep blue – a little on the nose, maybe, but it lands most satisfyingly on the tongue.

Tuchanka Sunset

Don’t ever let anyone tell you that krogan don’t have a sense of humor. I used to run with a Battlemaster in my early days whose wit was as dry and vast as an Asterian desert. We survived an Eclipse double-cross by the skin of our teeth, and when we got back to our dingy little hideout, he toasted our fortune with a Tuchanka Sunset. His own personal recipe. He claimed the bartenders at Afterlife know how to make it, if you ask. Now, I love a good sunset drink and as such was appalled to watch him dump black rum on top of an otherwise flawless concoction. Sensing my shock, with a wry half-smile he said, “Well, yeah, wouldn’t be a sunset on Tuchanka without a choking cloud of toxic ash to ruin the view now, would it?”

Serrice Ice Brandy

I find human Alliance officers to be particularly dull and single-minded. So new to space, with such a short lifespan, few know how to relax and have fun. Not so with their medical personnel: disgruntled, overworked, and with the romance of military life quickly snuffed out by the harsh realities of combat, they know how to put the Rs in R & R. Serrice Ice Brandy always reminds me of a particular Alliance officer named Karin Chakwas, very posh and put together, who got a little salty after a drink (or several) of the stuff.

Sovak Juice

Have you heard the one about how krogan males name their infants? According to salarian scientist Padok Wiks, they get drunk on sovak juice and hold belching contests. Apparently, whatever sounds most like a word becomes a name. I doubt there’s much validity to this claim (although… Wrex?) but I still remember the young krogan merc I renamed after a night of tossing back these nutty, bubbly little things together. It’s been a while, but I do sincerely hope Urp is doing well out there. [note on recipe: “Garnish: For sovak juice? Come on, now.”]

Noverian Rum Swizzle

Seeing as rum is a liquor made with sugarcane molasses or sugarcane juice, one might associate it with warm, tropical climates. One would also be wrong and very much missing out on one of the finest varieties in the entire galaxy. I refuse to make this drink with anything less than quality Noverian rum (and Asari Honey Syrup, of course). Once you’ve had a taste, you’ll understand why Aria T’Loak was so sulky after Purgatory’s stock of the stuff ran out. Though, to be fair, having her entire empire occupied by Cerberus General Oleg Petrovsky may have also contributed to her sour mood. For that authentic touch of frost, I recommend harnessing biotics to give your stick the right amount of swizzle.

DARK STAR LOUNGE Dark stars, as a theoretical curiosity, could be extremely powerful. Dark Star Lounge, an actual bar, definitively serves extremely powerful drinks. Located on the Citadel one level up from the C-Sec office in Zakera Ward (a convenient perp walk away when patrons get too rowdy), many bartenders are happy to give customers exactly what they ask for… the “usual” being a thumping hangover. If you like your drinks stiffer than a turian’s carapace, you’ve flipped to the right section. Higher-proof spirits with a higher spirit-to-mixer ratio for a higher class of drinker, Dark Star recipes do not disappoint. I trust you can handle it… and if you happen to wake up next to an attractive stranger the next morning whose name you can’t quite recall, I recommend breaking the ice over some Huevos Rancheros à la Vega (see page 12, you charmer).

Batarian Ale Shandy

If you’re not a krogan or batarian, please don’t drink uncut batarian ale. It’s mean, it’s green, and it will leave your insides clean. Instead, use this recipe to make yourself a refreshing and fizzy shandy. Yes, a human Spectre managed to stay on their feet after chugging a glass of the uncut ale – at least that’s what one Dark Star Lounge bartender claims. But ask yourself: Are you really the type? I’m reminded of a naïve bar patron cosplaying in plastic N7 armor he convinced his poor wife to buy him (along with his shuttle-fare off world, understandably). You’re not “truly extreme”. Do yourself a favor: Check your ego and enjoy the Batarian Ale Shandy.

Dark Star Vespertini

No trip to Dark Star Lounge is complete without ordering this signature cocktail, the Dark Star Vespertini, especially if you have a bit of a sweet tooth. I’ve included the recipe here, at great risk to certain of my… relationships… at the lounge. It’s simply too delicious not to share, with a rich chocolate-raspberry taste. Be sure to shake this one well – for the nonbiotics who need to do this task manually, I liken it to the amount of time until you start to worry your arm will fall off. If it feels like you’re giving the tumbler a quick ride in an M35 Mako, you’re doing it right.

Ryncol Cocktail

Listen up, tough guys. I promise you that bartenders are never impressed when you swagger up and ask for “the strongest you have”. In fact, just to make sure you embarrass yourself in front of your friends, they’ll probably slap on a fake smile and pour you a tall glass of krogan ryncol. Never heard of it? They certainly don’t advertise the stuff. But for fun, let’s spitball some potential slogans: “Ryncol! It hits aliens like ground glass,” or “Ryncol! It’s like sipping knives,” or “Ryncol! It’ll set of radiological alarms.” Just ask a certain Commander Shepard. And enjoy your purple prayers to the porcelain goddess…

Paragade Punch

While Tupari sports drinks are all the rage, don’t discount Paragade! Especially in cocktails. By itself, it’s not too good and it’s not too bad, but mixed with alcohol, it’s somewhat of a revelation. This recipe gives you a layered drink that starts out sweetly and ends with a real kick to the quads. Perfect for those nights where you might hold your tongue at one bar only to start throwing chairs at the next. It takes a deft hand to get the blue-purple-red proportions right when you’re making one, and to get the ending you want after a night of drinking them.

Dextro Heat Sink

Like a boilermaker, the Dextro Heat Sink is a great way of making strong alcohol stronger. During his Archangel days, Garrus Vakarian and his crew would slug these like candy as they racked up wins against the Blue Suns, Blood Pack, and Eclipse thugs on Omega. This is a sweet and spicy tequila cocktail (the “heat”) with a dropped shot of Ancho Reyes liqueur (the “sink”). An unlimited amount of these might be fun at first, with the occasional pause to blow some heat off your tongue, but it’s advised to keep them to a finite amount.

Turian Horosk

Considering the rigidity of turians, you’d need a pretty strong drink to loosen them up enough to get the wedgie out of their thermal armor. Enter: Turian Horosk. Another Garrus Vakarian favorite, you’re not going to find this outside of a handful of bars, and certainly not at the posher Silver Coast Casinos of the ‘verse. So, if you’re looking to calibrate your soberness in the opposite direction, here’s the recipe for you. The lemonade flavor helps it go down easy and the spices are optional – the hangover from too many rounds of this, however, is not.

PURGATORY BAR The Citadel is a tourist trap. Humans tend to view this as a disparaging label, but I say it with great enthusiasm. For my credits, there’s no better way to take in the sights than as a lowercase t tourist, and there’s no better place to do that than the Citadel. If you have the time, a bar named Purgatory serves drinks that are especially heavenly. If you like new takes on classic cocktails with a slightly higher mixer-to-alcohol ratio, sip on these before taking in the sights and sounds of the Presidium. And if you’re just not convinced it’s worth the visit, well, at least you can whip up these drinks at home. And do take your Citadel recommendations with a grain of salt when you’re there (barring the guide currently in your hands, of course). Especially ones coming from the hotshot human Spectre making the rounds – that one will endorse anything for a discount.

Frozen Pyjak

The best part about tending bar? The customers. I learn a little about a lot just by listening. The worst part about tending bar? The customers. Sometimes I don’t have to listen too intently, as their volume increases with their alcohol intake. For fun, I used to give my loudest customers a freebie: the Frozen Pyjak. I overheard Samantha Traynor boasting (loudly, ironically) about this and it sounded too entertaining not to try it out: Every few hours, you empty your spill pad into a martini glass and toss a little ice in for presentation. This is a much nicer variation for you to make. All these ingredients go incredibly well together, so you can serve it to people you actually like. [note on recipe: “Garnish: Well now, that would defeat the point.”]

Full Biotic Kick

My curiosity for the Full Biotic Kick was piqued by a charming young Alliance comms specialist named Samantha Traynor who extolled its virtues. Apparently, this was the most popular drink served when she worked “extensively” as a bartender during her university days… for a whole four years. I understand humans consider this quite the span of time – how quaint. I believe the “kick” comes directly from the Tuchanka Dry, and if you’ve ever faced down a biotic krogan Battlemaster (and lived to tell about it), you’ll understand why.

Vodka Skycar

As the Citadel became increasingly populated and its denizens spread across the wards of this colossal space station, they began to rely more and more on a centralized mode of transportation. Enter the skycar, a maddeningly slow shuttle that, though nowhere near as glacially paced as Citadel elevators, redeems itself with some of the most incredible views in the galaxy. When I need to slow down, I make myself a nice Vodka Skycar, get lost in its pretty sky-blue color, and hire an ambling ride around the glittering Citadel Tower. Magical.

Rojo Loco

Everyone loves a good Rojo Loco: C-Sec, pirates, accountants, politicians, hunky Alliance marines who think pull-up contests and cute little nicknames might get you into their beds (full disclosure, they can, and they have… cheers, James Vega). Because underneath all the stories everyone tells themselves about themselves, at the end of the day, all any of us are really looking for is to enjoy a bit of spice and heat. Maybe that’s a firefight. Maybe that’s filing paperwork. Either way, this drink ticks that box and gives you the same warm tingle.

TM88 Smash

I love a good rebrand. TM88 used to be known as “Merc’s Courage,” because drinking enough of the stuff gave one the false sense of strength that often comes with getting absolutely hammered. Salarians especially took a shine to this Earth-based whiskey and swore it had medicinal properties… when really it was the shortest distance between two points to get a person drunk. Ever the opportunists, salarians branded TM88 as a cure-all and “the only alcoholic drink endorsed by the Medical Board of Sur’Kesh.” Alliance officer Kaidan Alenko credits the stuff for his speedy discharge from Huerta Memorial Hospital. So, drink up! Doctor’s orders.

ETERNITY Due to its extreme opulence and high level of security, the asari-run planet of Illium is a preferred tourist destination and (second, third, fourth) home of many of the galaxy’s most well-known celebrities. It’s also under a state of near-total surveillance. You can take their self-congratulatory media touting Eternity as “the sexiest bar in the Milky Way” with a few handfuls of salt (though with Matriarch Aethyta slinging drinks, “sexiest bartender” would be harder to argue with), but don’t sleep on their drink selection. I have a soft spot for asari drinks, as you might expect. I find them to be sweet and mellow and think Eternity gets them right. I’ve collected a few of my favorites for you here. Regarding the Liquified Turian (page 57) backstory, well… who can say if that one’s legit? But seeing as the normally stringent customs laws of Council space on safety and sapient trafficking are relaxed on Illium, I can’t say I’d be too surprised.  

Mystery Drink

I understand mystique. It’s a powerful weapon that can influence your enemies before you ever need to fire a shot. I also understand bullshit and am very good at differentiating the latter from the former. So, when I first heard this Mystery Drink is rumored to come from “the deepest reaches of the Traverse,” distilled on a “shadowy nameless planet” by “specifically adapted Vorcha,” alarms were ringing in my head. Until I had a sip. Deceptively fruity and floral but highly intoxicating with an otherworldly appearance, well, does it matter where it came from, especially if you can get the same fabulous taste using syrup from canned lychees? No. In the case of this delicious little Mystery Drink, it most certainly does not.

Asari Honey-Mead Bellini

Made in an Ardat-Yakshi monastery, asari honey mead is for those with taste. And, let’s be honest, credits. Whoever said “the best things in life are free” was compensating, because this expensive little drink is worth the experience. Ever the one to push boundaries, I prefer to prepare my honey mead with sparkling wine to make an effervescent little bellini, because the sweet and mellow flavor mixed with bubbles positively sparkles – in the glass and on the soul.

Perfection

I once crossed paths with this pretty little human who called herself Miranda Lawson. Despite her formidable intelligence, killer biotic abilities, and, well, let’s just say her “superior physical constitution,” she seemed to be… missing something. She didn’t say and I didn’t press, but we shared a drink whose taste was as excellent as the woman pouring. Asking her what she called it, she gave a sad smile and simply said, “Perfection”. Indeed. To her surprise (and delight, I might add), I sweetened the affair with a shot of strawberry liqueur and told her, “Yes, but there’s always room for improvement, dear”. Hmm. I wonder if she ever found what she was looking for.

Memory Stealer

Ah, Kasumi Goto. The best thief in the business. You don’t remember her and she prefers it that way. She’s so good, she’ll even nick your memory of her ever having been there… along with whatever valuables you had in your pockets. When I do have the good fortune of remembering her, I like to pour this drink made with Japanese gin in her honor. And like the master thief herself, one too many Memory Stealers will no doubt leave you with a hazy recollection the next morning.

Liquified Turian

“Ambree,” you say. “Certainly, Matriarch Aethyta’s story of a krogan drinking liquified turian on a bet is embellished? A tall tale? Urban legend meant to titillate, disgust, and delight?” Maybe. Regardless, it’s one of my favorites, so I made this drink in homage (and to capitalize off the story – your girl is nothing if not quick to make a quick cred). I use a tequila base, with agave being native to a desert climate like you’d find on Palaven. Of course, I use egg white for the smooth texture, plus saline to stabilize this particular choice of “protein”. And the blue curaçao, well, turian blood is blue, after all! Mm, you can almost taste the dextro-amino acids. [note on recipe: “Garnish: No embellishment needed with a backstory this impressive.”]

FLUX

Flux is one of the more recent night spots to open on the Citadel and boasts a casino in addition to a well-stocked bar. The atmosphere is almost as inviting as the volus who runs the place – alternating between owner, cook, and bartender, one wonders where Doran finds the energy. But at some point, you’ll be sure to find this little macaroon from Irune shaking his pressure suit on the dance floor.

The recipes I’ve collected from Flux are, as you can imagine, fun and whimsical. Seeing as Doran spends an equal amount of time in the kitchen as he does behind the bar, you can also find a fair bit of culinary flare in the drink preparation. Enjoy yourself, Earth-clan!

Tupari Blast

Despite the volus being a race not cut out for physicality of any kind, their mastery of trade and commerce has helped Tupari sports drinks conquer the galaxy. It seems like you can’t swing a dead CAT6 without hitting a vending machine of the stuff, and Doran has a particular fondness for it. I’d be remiss to not include it here, both for its delicious taste and because of how well it sells. Its strong fruity flavor makes it a consistent Flux favorite. It’ll give you the courage to get on the dance floor and the electrolytes to stay there until closing time.

Rum Relay

A toast to the Mass Relays! Forgive my (brief, I promise) indulgence in sentimentality, but the Relays have brought together an array of intelligent life whose differences remind us of how we’re all pretty much the same: unsure of our place in the universe, but in our best moments willing to teach and learn from our Milky Way sisters and brothers. No one understands that better than Doran, and what better way to celebrate it than by sloshing a Rum Relay milk punch all over the dance floor as you boogie the night away.

Blasto Sting

This one unironically loves the Blasto franchise. The acting, the writing, the backdrops? High camp, babe. A human essayist, Sontag, wrote, “You can’t camp about something you don’t take seriously. You’re not making fun of it; you’re making fun out of it.”  And what’s more fun than adding cream to grape Pucker? It creates a hanar in every shot. Try my favorite drinking game: gather your friends, fire up Blasto Saves Christmas, and throw back a Blasto Sting every time he says, “Enkindle THIS!”

Denorian Beer Granita

Krogan are not known for negotiation. If you find yourself mediating with one for goddess’ sake do not show up empty-handed. I tried to bluff my way through just such a situation once and you wouldn’t be reading this book if I hadn’t had ingredients for Denorian Beer Granita on hand. I developed a fondness for Denorian beer from Urdnot Wrex, but this cocktail takes it to another level. In a desperate attempt to cool tensions, I offered to make a round of this unique drink with its smooth taste, fun texture, and visually appealing look. The krogan got the recipe and I got to walk away (with a little extra pep in my step from the caffeine). Win-win.

Tasty Tankard

What can I say? I’m a Matriarch with a Maiden’s tastes: I like a pretty young thing on my arm, a warm Acolyte pistol, and a heaping bowl of human ice cream. Chocolate, if you’re taking notes. The Tasty Tankard is essentially a boozy milkshake, and I urge you to ignore anyone who tries to tell you that drinks made in a blender only belong in cheesy resorts. This one goes down dangerously easy, and the recipe makes enough for two… or one krogan with a sweet tooth. If that krogan happens to be Grunt, I advise having enough on hand to fill a large enough container. Perhaps a flower pot’s worth? [note on recipe: “Serves: 2… or 1 krogan.”]

CHORA’S DEN Not for the faint of heart, Chora’s Den on the Citadel is the “livelier but deadlier” choice to stop for a drink. A gentleman’s club owned by a scoundrel (novel, I know), the clientele and drinks lean heavily towards the strong and seedy type. The loud music and low lighting do well to cover the bloodstains and less-than-legitimate conversations, but you’ll have a great time if you mind your business and tip the asari dancers well. Be sure to ask Fist, the proprietor of this fine establishment, about the back room – it’s perfect for your next shady deal. And I’m not one for gossip, but if you’re curious about the smell, I’ve heard Fist has a habit of burying “old problems” under the dancers’ stage. The following recipes evoke the Den’s more… aggressive tendencies.

Tequila Se’lai

Whether you’re human, turian, or salarian, we’ve all got our shared little “catch phrases” we catch ourselves saying: “Embrace eternity” if you’re asari, “Victory or death” if you’re krogan, ★heavy breathing intensifies★, if you’re volus… you get the idea. I quite like the quarians’ “Keelah Se’lai,” or “By the homeworld I hope to see one day.” Tragic but beautiful. This recipe is an ode to their homeworld, Rannoch, with desert and coastal flavors all brought together with a lovely prickly pear syrup.

Elasa

I’m not really a “drown your sorrows” type of gal. I’m more of the “drown you in a hail of incendiary ammo if you upset me” type. To each their own. If you lean more on a shoulder and less on a trigger, you can’t go wrong with an Elasa, aka Sorrow’s Companion. (They’re not joking when they say it serves one…) Pale green with a bitter aftertaste and tangy sweetness, it’s a great way to take life’s lemons and make lemon garnish for your cocktail (or limes, in this case). Fist, ever putting the gentlemen in gentlemen’s club, used to refer to this drink as The Cynthia, a snide reference to Elasa being Alliance Commander David Anderson’s preferred drink during his divorce.

Quad Kicker

Not for the faint of heart, the Quad Kicker will, well, kick you straight in the quad, I suppose. Samantha Traynor is adamant about “no curry powder” in her version, but why take away that spicy mouthfeel? Add that curry simple syrup and let this baby wake you up! It ain’t called the Quad Fondler, so step up and throw down with your friends (or enemies).

Shadowbrokertini

I hope by this point you’ve come to realize that I know everything that’s worth knowing. Yet I humbly admit that, try as I might, I’m still unable to unmask the Shadow Broker. But I am familiar with their agents, including a certain proprietor of Chora’s Den. And even though Fist refuses to confess what he knows (which, I suspect, is even less than I do), he did agree to collaborate on a cocktail worthy of that confidential entity. Dark, shadowy, and with enough caffeine to help keep one sharp in the secrets-trading game, the Shadowbrokertini theatrically uses dry ice to add an air of mystery. I trust you don’t need the Shadow Broker’s services to know that swallowing dry ice can kill you, yes? [note on recipe: “(Note: Some Shadow Brokers prefer it without lime at all.)”]

The Erotic Biotic

I suppose I should start this one off with a warning: Don’t underestimate young asari. Yes, there is a strong drive for at the Maiden stage to explore and experience. Curious and restless, some look for the nearest bar to dance in. But that’s no reason to let your guard down. Many don’t realize their mistake until they’re telekinetically slammed into the nearest concrete wall. Well, that’s just the ratio of risk-to-reward that Chora’s Den captures with this drink. With a winky flavor profile of fruit and cream, finish your Erotic Biotic with Drell Skin Venom to add a tingly bite (for the adventurous types), or with chocolate bitters (for the romantics). I like a bit of both – I may be a Matriarch, yet I’ve never lost that desire to explore and experience…

The Shifty Cow

While I’ve heard just about every maxim in the ‘verse, one rings particularly true: “You can’t trust any animal that can milk itself.” Yes, I’m talking about space cows, with their unsettling, grabby little hands. Turn your back around one and they’ll pick through your pockets. The Shifty Cow cocktail is a clarified milk punch. And that’s partly because it’s fun to separate the milk solids from the drink, but also because I’m reminded of these audacious little cows eagerly separating an unsuspecting fool from their credits. And yes, we do have that in common, which reminds me of a human maxim: “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You win this round, space cows.

-----

[you can get the book here]

[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. 

[musekicker]

Can i suggest a hurt/comf between Fire Spirit/Wind Archer?

One day Fire Spirit’s powers went haywire and accidentally hurts Wind Archer. He then runs away deep in Dragon Valley and actively avoids Wind Archer due to the guilt and had some sort of monologue about why he couldnt face Wind Archer (because Fire Spirit is known for his courage n stuff) Wind Archer catches up to Fire Spirit and face they face each other. Fire Spirit get happy again and shenanigans ensues

Ik it sounds kinda cliche but this gotta be my fav firewind typa ff

- benjy

It might not be EXACTLY what you asked but it's the basic energy of the prompt. Here's hoping it's still what you're looking for.

Taking on the odd mission or job was something hero's did. And Fire Spirit was indeed a hero. Wind Archer was here too of course, the couple being pretty much inseparable a lot of the time as of late.

So they took on this small but important job together. Too many cake hounds hunting in the woods about a small town. Cake hounds would be cake hounds he supposed. But they were threatening cookie's lives, one hound having nearly run off with a young cookie in broad day light.

Something had to be done. That something was Fire Spirit Cookie and Wind Archer Cookie. It wasn't a slaughter. Neither cookie wanted to kill the hounds. Only scare them out of the area. Prove that this was not a safe place for them to stay.

Wind Archer took on the job of scouting out where the hounds were and then chasing them Fire Spirit's direction. Where Fire Spirit was waiting in a clearing area to use his control of fire to scare off the cake hounds even more.

It was going well so far. They must have scared off at least a dozen cake hounds by now. It was becoming almost routine.

Which is how the accident happened. A sound from the bushes, another cake hound he thought. And acting purely on instinct , a whoosh of flames in the direction of a sound. Except it wasn't a cake hound. And Wind Archer moved faster then then a cake hound.

The flames moved too fast to control completely. But Fire Spirit was able to divert the flames towards the right to avoid hitting Wind Archer. Or at least not head on. Enough of flame or ember caught a part of Wind Archer, on the right hand, and up the arm. It made Wind Archer give a sharp yelp. He even very barely dropped his bow.

Hurt. Wind Archer was hurt.

Fire Spirit swore and felt his very core go cold. How badly was Wind Archer hurt? He floated closer to get a better look, all thoughts about the cake hounds gone.

Wind Archer was looking at his wounds, and there were wounds. Scorched sections of cookie on his arm that looked painful. Fire Spirit reached out to touch the  not injured shoulder, then stopped and pulled his hand back. If he had hurt Wind Archer before, it was possible that his touch could make it worse.

Checking his wounds still, the pain made Wind Archer wince. It was the wince and the thin line of Wind Archer's mouth, a sign he was trying to hide how much the burns actually hurt, that did it. The thing that made Fire Spirit flee without a word, leaving a shocked Wind Archer Behind.

Starchy got the whole story about what had happened not long after Fire Spirit returned to his home. It was hard to not know something was wrong with the way that Fire Spirit was just pacing. All it took was asking what was wrong, and then everything all bubbled up to the surface like lava itself. The cake hounds, the mistake, and how he had hurt Wind Archer.

"I made a mistake and I didn't get control of my flames in time!" Fire Spirit snapped. "I lost control and because of that I accidentally hurt Wind Archer."

Starchy could see that Fire Spirit was truly beside himself with the anxiety and shame of what had just happened. It was the first time he had seen such emotion from Fire Spirit cookie. Trying to be the comforting voice to Fire Spirit was not a moment that Starchy foresaw. But here it was.

"He must know you didn't mean it." Starchy said.

Fire Spirit's gaze stayed downwards.

"I didn't stay to apologize." Fire Spirit admitted.

Now that surprised the moletato. Fire Spirit was not one to hold back his words. Nor was he the type to lack the bravery to say what he wanted to.

"You didn't stay!? Really?" Starchy cried.

"I KNOW! I know it was terrible and a cowardly to not say anything! But I saw him, and what I did. And the thought that I could had really, really hurt him because I wasn't thinking!? I just left."

Fire Spirit put his face in his hands. It was this reason Fire Spirit didn't notice that Starchy was looking over and past Fire Spirit's shoulder. Starchy just offered a slight nod, saying nothing more.

"I think he would still like to talk to you." a voice that wasn't Starchy said.

Fire Spirit didn't need to look up to know who had just spoke. He  knew that voice very well. Fire Spirit winced and looked to Starchy.

"How long has he been here?" Fire Spirit asked.

Starchy only shrugged and walked away to leave the two cookies to talk. Alone. Fire Spirit felt that fear he felt back at the sight of the burning incident. But this time he spoke.

"I hurt you." Fire Spirit said.

"I... am wounded, yes." Wind Archer admitted. "But not badly. Just some slight burns."

"JUST some burns? Archie-" Fire Spirit cried.

Wind Archer reached out towards Fire Spirit. He had taken time to tend to his burns before coming here it appeared, the hand and arm of the burned arm wrapped in bandage, probably a pate of healing herbs used under the bandages.

If he thought bandages would help calm Fire Spirit about the whole incident, Wind Archer was wrong. The sight of the bandages wrapped around his hands made Fire Spirit float back to avoid touching Wind Archer.

There was no expression of Wind Archer being insulted. He knew that Fire Spirit's response had been only because of a emotion that the fire elemental felt so rarely. Fear. Specifically fear of hurting Wind Archer further.

Even with Fire Spirit's moving away, Wind Archer was not about to let Fire Spirit stew in guilt he did not need to be feeling. Before Fire Spirit knew it, Wind Archer closed the gap between them. And without hesitation put his forehead up to Fire Spirit's forehead.

"It's okay." Wind Archer said. "I was trying to say that before you flew off."

"I'm sorry!" Fire Spirit blurted.

His forehead was still up against Wind Archer's, warming but not too hot to Wind Archer. Wind Archer let Fire Spirit keep on talking.

"You're hurt because I wasn't thinking. I should had made sure it was a cake hound and not you. I KNEW you were still out there and-" Fire Spirit said.

"Yes, you probably should had been more careful. That's true. But that's also on me." Wind Archer admitted. "We should had worked out some sort of signalling system before hand so something like that didn't happen. So let's just be happy that I'm only slightly hurt and that next time we'll be more prepared."

Fire Spirit moved his head back to take in Wind Archer's face, his expression.

"You're really not mad at me about this?" Fire Spirit asked.

"Really... let's try not to do it again though if you please." Wind Archer said.

Fire Spirit let out a small laugh and put his forehead back to Wind Archers.

"Promise."

[germesthegenie]

Actually had most of this done for a while but wanted to wait until I finished Arc 7 and had time to type out all of my thoughts, which can be found below

Settling into a rhythm of doing 2 arcs per one of these post

Arc 6

Nice to see the Undersiders in action again + Vista

Will say Victoria’s fights, while still good and interesting in things like Aura and the careful use of the Wretch, doesn’t have the same variety and fun stuff as Skitter. I do get that it’s kind of on the opposite end of the spectrum from Taylor’s “How do I use my ‘weak’ power (her words not mine) to take down this stronger foe?”, instead being more of a World of Cardboard situation with less control / mental stability. Tradeoffs I suppose, there will probably be some stuff to help it shine in its own right (Victoria’s internal monologue after accidentally hitting someone too hard with the Wretch in 6.4 was good)

That said, the rest of the team has a lot of fun stuff going on with how they can use their powers. Kenzie even got to drone strike Mama Mathers, which is perhaps the funniest way for that fight to be resolved

The fight with Cradle and Operator Red was neat. I mean, not for Rain, but at least that meant we got to see Scapegoat again- oh hes Fallen? Huh.

I like Chicken Little, even with just the bit we see. Lets hope third times the charm, Lisa.

Super Magic Dream Parade is… certainly something. Might go into the “niche characters to draw” pile

I like the subversion of what they thought was gonna be them destroying the portals and instead expanding them. The separation of humanity to different Earths felt like more of a backdrop/flavor so far, hoping this means we get to see more of the variance between the worlds

Arc 7

What felt like 3 arcs in a trenchcoat, this one took a long while to get through (partially because of school starting up again midway through)

I like the little mini trials as a sort of epilogue to the past 2 arcs in what is for the most part a transition period before I assume is the next big event with the group behind the portal attacks. Nice little moments for Rain.

Yamada’s missing after the portal incident? Damn that sucks hope they can mamage without her- RILEYS MISSING TOO WE GOTTA GET THEM BACK

Jokes and blorbos aside, those two being missing are pretty bad for a lot of reasons, both within and outside Breakthrough

Victoria’s meeting with the other therapist was rough, though for understandable reasons. Never really thought of the implications before on her being potentially Ship of Theseus’d from stray cats

Victoria getting to see a bit more of the ugliness going on in Breakthrough, starting with Chris lashing out. Completely reasonable for him to, but damn went right for the gut with the Amy mentions

Speaking of things tied to Amy, hi Marquis! I just drew you! I can’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or he just did the equivalent of accidentally hitting every negative dialogue option but damn

A lot of buildup towards what I can only assume to be Teacher’s Cauldron making a play, especially with the Nieves interlude. Not sure what his goal could be supporting an anti-parahuman movement, other than ig weakening his main enemies in Citrine and Tattletale.

Eclipse

As someone whose first experience with Worm was making a character who was a former Boston Ward, I was excited for an arc that was at least in part all about Boston

Ashley’s trigger is tragic. I had a feeling any trigger involving pure destructive power like that was either bad leading up to the event or in the direct aftermath, and that was both.

Interesting to see how many different players there were in the Boston Games, as well as the more familiar faces like Accord and Blasto. I liked the bits of their dynamic and personality in Worm, and was glad to see more of that and how their rivalry started here.

Look. I still hate Carol. But I can’t lie, some of her lines during New Wave’s fight with Damsel were kinda cool. Now just keep that kinda cold energy for villains and not, y’know, your daughters.

Poor original Damsel, fought like hell against heroes, villains, and her own powers half the time, and didn’t even get a seat at the table. Not to mentioned played from the start by J. Maybe. Never did get confirmation he was actually a spy iirc.

Oh hi Jack! And yay Riley! Nice little tie in back into the Worm timeline. Well, nice for us, horrific for Ashley. Again, poor original Damsel.

Also intro to the other Ashley clone, neat! Also interesting stuff at the end with the mystery memory.

Kenzie Interlude (bc this also deserves a whole section)

irl was doing some labwork and decided to put this behemoth of an interlude on the audiobook to listen to in the background and that was a wild experience

The dinner was just painful to listen to. The way the parents were more focused on themselves or how things looked vs their daughter literally bleeding… like I wanna say it bordered on over the top but like with the bullying in Worm this kind of stuff and worse does happen. Glad she got out of that… right?

The little callback to Victoria doing the whole crisis point thing in Arc 2 was nice, though

Everything was going so well with the foster parents and then… that. Honestly didn’t fully get it at first until reading the comments on the website and… yeah. It’s not her fault, she was 8, she was traumatized and afraid of being separated from them and then the poorly worded search. Keith could’ve handled things better but it was also traumatizing on his end. Just an awful situation overall.

How does it keep getting worse

I’m gonna be real I went into this thinking the parents were gonna be robots or holograms with AI like she had in Glow Worm and it was gonna be sad as like a pretend of what should’ve been but… no I could not have predicted any of what was actually going on whatsoever.

Gonna need to remember to not draw Kenzie smiling if shes meant to be happy damn

[ganondoodle]

(Original art) Xaror, any pronouns, species (?), age (?)

short summary about them; they act as both an antagonist and an ally since they are only really interested in what they want or whats fun to them, they are immortal and call themselves 'death itself' since they have a special connection to souls (being the only one able to communicate with them) and the ability to seperate souls from their bodies in such a way that nothing can harm the soul afterwards their main goal is to .. bother and disturb the 'celestials'*, which they hate, as much as they can, breaking into their palace, freeing prisoners, destroying research, destroying the place, and most importantly, making as many souls unusable to them as possible-

they dont want to destroy the celestials though, they cant fight them anyway and this game of doing 'good' only with the goal of annoying them is their most treasured activity, so Xaror doesnt intend to stop them from killing or hurting anyone, only from harvesting what they are actually after (though Xaror doesnt actually care as little as they think they do about people, and has a soft spot for demons)

most of their appearance is later into the story; Zaphira (the empress) had been in coma and the medical facility she was treated in was destroyed by Shargon (orange eyed demon who acts as her bodyguard for the first part) in an attempt to save her from her estranged relatives taking over her country after they heard of her decline in health, she is believed dead but washes up on the shore of the mountain Xaror resides at years later (it has a reason, too much to write here) and they slowly nurse her back to health, the reason they give for it is that they found their first encounter very fun, thats all (is it?)

(more lore under the cut bc this is already so long .. im trying to keep it short q-q ......... this is stuff i have been working on since i was a kid so uh, some things might be cheesy but i cant change them anymore ..)

just to get some basics out of the way; theres three worlds, the celestials palace, human world and demon world, each are their own planet connected via different gateways

*celestials (possibly not final name, loosely based on angels) are the last remaining "survivors" of their planets demise, when their world died the most powerful among them cannibalized the weaker to sustain themselves until there were only less than 10 left, who each turned into different beings from it and dont resemble their own people much anymore, they built a palace from what was left on their world that protects them from space as its atmosphere collapsed shortly after- however they still needed something to live off; they discover the human world and are delighted to find rather short lived people with powerful souls, the best kind of sustenance for them (now), they aim to herd them like cattle, but a problem arose when it turned out another world has long been in contact with the human world; demons

demons are semi immortal creatures that act as protectors for their world, protection they extended, more or less secretely, to the human world ensuring them a long and secure life- the celestials need them to die at their whim though (demons are few in numbers, hard to kill and rarely have offspring, not an ideal target); as they worked out a plan on how to get rid of demons one of the celestials, Xanthriel (time) grew somewhat fond of people as they spent alot of time in the human world to observe and research them; in the end turning on their own completely, but losing the fight against Uriel (knowledge)

Xanthriel was supposed to be executed for their betrayal, but it doesnt work, instead they are splintered into many parts after a lot of struggle, most body, memory and most strength is one part (ending up as motionless forever bleeding corpse kept locked up in the palace), the rest is some time later gathered together and reforms as a seperate, weak mockery of them, they embody Xanthriels emotion- Xaror, without memory, strangely cut to pieces (hence all the missing limbs and broken halo) but driven by an unstoppable desire to disturb the celestials (they live seperate long enough to each become their own person, at some point Xaror discovers Xanthriels body after all and they merge back together, though as they are now two, Xanthriel only takes over once directly after merging, stays silent for a long time and lets Xaror be themselves, only later revealing that they are there at all .. hiding perhaps- i rarely have specific ideas for voices, but Xanthriels is like, like coarse rocks being violently rubbed against each other, less voice more noise)

(also, the celestials use Xanthriels blood from the day of their execution to create a plague that nearly wipes out all demons, only the youngest of them survived, effectively robbing them of everything, culture, history, knowledge etc- as demons rarely have children, like a complete restart of their society, they disappeared from the human world, and over time being largely forgotten as actually existing- the celestials wanted them all gone however, so they kept kidnapping them to try and find somethign that would work similarly against the young ones too (and then in general, bc the only usable blood of Xanthriel was from the day of their fall, and that has long since been used up) one of the young ones was Shargon, he was the only one still alive from his group

(also, the celestials use Xanthriels blood from the day of their execution to create a plague that nearly wipes out all demons, only the youngest of them survived, effectively robbing them of everything, culture, history, knowledge etc- as demons rarely have children, like a complete restart of their society, they disappeared from the human world, and over time being largely forgotten as actually existing- the celestials wanted them all gone however, so they kept kidnapping them to try and find somethign that would work similarly against the young ones too (and then in general, bc the only usable blood of Xanthriel was from the day of their fall, and that has long since been used up) one of the young ones was Shargon, he was the only one still alive from his group (he wasnt the strongest or special, he was jsut the last in the row and always got the lowest dosage) when Xaror found them in yet another break in into the palace and got him back to the demon world .. where he was promptly blamed for the others that were taken and treated like a pretender/fake/spy bc what he got put through changed his eye color (something that demons cannot change in any form) to one that does not exist among 'real' demons (orange ... notice the inner color of Xarors broken halo? :) ), some even suggesting killing him, but none of them were brave enough to do it (they were all kids still) .. except Eadrya (the big blue-ish one, largely regarded as the strongest demon alive) but Shargon managed to escape, and since then lived largely in isolation- this is part of why he is so hated, and why he starts to spend so much time in the human world after rediscovering the pathway there)

[windvexer]

hey, I’ve heard you mention that you’ve also had problems like fatigue, headaches, etc, after spellwork and a lot of rituals. Have you found any ways to prepare for big rituals that minimizes this, by chance?

If not, no biggie. I’m going to make sure I’m hydrated and have a full belly, but I’ve never done a casting as big as the one I’m currently planning, and even though I’m drawing on sources of energy other than myself, that hasn’t always quelled stuff like headaches/jitters in the past.

Any advice?

(- this is the main account of musings-on-wisteria)

Hello! I recognize you from my notes, I hadn't realized you and Wisteria are one and the same :)

My short answer is, yes, but it's tedious and not very easy to employ. Hard enough to employ, in fact, that I often do not. Here is the long answer:

STOP GIVING 110%. Treat magic like it's your job; only do what's required and don't go above and beyond. Which sounds counter-intuitive I suppose, but if the goal is specifically not causing myself pain during casting then the solution is almost the exact same as not causing myself undo workplace stress.

Do less; simplify; identify the strands of power on which you pull and intentionally limit yourself to pulling only what you think is necessary.

DO MAGIC OFTEN TO BUILD UP THE MUSCLE. I believe that having energy to lift a heavy weight is not the same thing as having strong muscles. Doing a single spell that exhausts you, without regular warm-ups or exercise, is like going on a long run without building up to it.

Although I am not broadly in favor of daily energy work regimens, they can be useful in the specific sense that doing ten squats a day is going to make your life easier if you some day need to help your friend move into their second-story apartment.

IDENTIFY AREAS OF UNNECESSARY PSYCHIC EXPENDITURE AND CUT THEM. I mean this more in the sense of you over-connecting and becoming overwhelmed. Do you practice magic in such a way that you stop to ensure a minimum level of sensory/psychic input?

So for example let's say you cast a circle and call the quarters; do you stop at each quarter and make sure you can feel/See/connect to that quarter?

If so, consider that each time you intentionally seek sensory/psychic perception in your magic, you are both A) forcing your energy down one of your channels to briefly open a floodgate, and that B) your channel is becoming worn out each time you use it to seriously "plug in" to a spell (just like a muscle that is continuously picking up a weight). I mean this all metaphorically; my point is that continuously seeking psychic/sensory input during magic has the potential to be exhausting.

DO EVERYTHING YOU CAN AHEAD OF TIME, AND DO IT AS MANY TIMES AS YOU LIKE. If a part of your spell includes blessing an incense and then lighting it to invite spirits, bless the incense ahead of time.

In fact, if you like, bless it multiple times ahead of time, as often as you want, until you're satisfied with it.

Suppose a part of your spell includes using a lot of a certain type of energy. Instead of channeling it all in the moment, go and find it ahead of time. Place it in a "battery" (quartz crystal is commonly used), and collect as much of it as you want. You can make collecting and storing power for use in specific spells a part of regular energy work exercises, if you're into that sort of thing.

If you're using a spell vessel, you can create it and feed it energy far ahead of spellwork, etc.

SEE IF THERE'S A BETTER WAY. If you want to use a type of energy in a spell, maybe you can just sit and focus and find that energy and then gather it up and use it - maybe you'd have to do this even if it's stored in a stone on your altar.

But is that the best use of your energy?

Is it possible that you could call the same energy by doing something a lot less intensive, like reading a prayer or charm that links up to the energy and draws it to you?

If you call on spirits, could you prepare charms, sigils, or special gateways to help them visit you more easily, so you don't have to "tunnel" to them each time?

Whatever you intend to do to the energy, is there a tool that could help you? Sure you can tear energy by hand, but maybe an enchanted knife or scissors would help. And you can bind things together, but a magical needle and thread does tend to make the operation more simple.

FEAST AT THE FULL MOON. Go outside your body and eat the forbidden fruit, etc. Consuming astral food, especially at those strange wild parties which run eternal but only have doorways that pop up every once and a while, is helpful.

[cityscarce]

How are Shadow Knights made? (my hc) part 1

I mentioned in a reblog on someone elses post about how i liked the hc of shadow knights being based on nether mobs so i wanna go a little more in depth with that with some of my own ideas.

Basically the main part of this hc is that Shad hand crafts every SK himself. He does this by taking the corpse of the soon to be SK and also some nether mob body parts and combining them and then using some of his magicks (however you spell it idk) to bring them back to "life"

I plan to draw the different uniforms and armor all the different types of SKs wear too so stay tuned! I'm also splitting this entire thing into parts because It's a lot! So stay tuned for the second half of the mobs as well. And heres what I think hed take from each mob! (and also how they fit into the hierarchy and their roles and stuff and also notable SKs in these categories)

Wither Skeleton- Top of the list, there's only ever 3 of these existing at a time. Every time Shad wants to make a new one he kills off one of the old ones because they are powerful and he doesn't want them rising up to try and overthrow him. Having only 3 and basically having them compete with each other for their usefulness to him so he doesnt kill them keeps them in check. These are 99% of the time generals and are usually made from those who were very powerful in life. This can be strength in the mind, physically, or magicks wise. Shad creates wither skeleton SKs by taking the skull of a wither skeleton (still very very rare because once you kill a WS it turns into dust and skulls rarely survive this process because it's not supposed to happen) and then chopping off the SKs head and replacing it with the skull. Then he uses magicks to recreate their head around the skull using their old head. He uses bones from wither skeletons to replace their old bones which usually ends up making them taller. This also gives them increased strength and speed and it gives them the ability to give a person the wither affect and also breathe out weird wither smog. A notable wither skeleton SK is General Gene who was picked for his charm and incredibly powerful memory magicks. His death scar perfectly matches up with where Shad cut his head off and he lies about how he died so he seems more trustworthy.

Blaze- Usually they become lieutenants, and there usually isn't too many of them because of their many abilities and versatility making them dangerous. Shad was the original creator of the Blaze species as basically the first shadow knights but made entirely out of lava which is why they're basically fire given life, but they started getting out of hand because while sentient, their lack of higher intelligence made it hard to control them so he stopped making them but left spawners in his old nether fortresses so he can still obtain the ever useful blaze rods. Some of these blaze rods he reshapes and then replaces a SKs lungs with them. The core of a blaze (their head) is then placed inside a SKs chest so they can produce their own blaze rods, shoot fire, and also float. A notable blaze SK is Laurence who had a core forced inside his body while still alive, but wasn't able to get replaced lungs so he cannot shoot fire safely without hurting himself and filling his lungs with smoke. His core is also off center and was shoved into the tear in his chest that "killed" him so he can barely float and not very high or for very long.

Ghast- Usually either alchemists or sometimes rarely soldiers or scouts. A byproduct of the small tears Shad has been able to rip into the void to reach into the overworld. Ghasts were brought to the Nether by Shad who had previously had a fascination with the large ocean creatures and who not only brought them to endangerment by stealing ghastlings to study and sometimes dissect, but also by bringing them to a world they didn't belong to. Ghasts took hundreds of years of evolution to become what they are today in the nether, which might have been a blessing since they eventually went extinct by being used as transportation during the war in the overworld and all dying during it. Ghast SKs are made by replacing a SKs eyes with those of a ghast. This makes them able to cry ghast tears which are useful for potion making as they can be used to make regen potions. Ghast lungs are also used to replace those of a SKs and a Ghasts flame sack is put into the SK's body to give them the ability to shoot fireballs and also float a little. A notable ghast SK is Sasha who was chosen to be a ghast for her potion making ability. She spends most of her time in the nether on alchemy to make useful potions for battle or to trade to piglin tribes. When she's sent to the overworld she's used as a scout because her ability to float makes it easy to see everything, get away, and also get into places others cant. She uses her own tears to make potions , and the thing that always does the trick of getting her to cry waterfalls is thinking of Kenmur and Laurence who she both betrayed.

And thats it for part 1! Let me know what you think! And feel free to use any of my ideas but tag me I wanna see it!

[prinzrupprecht]

The Curse of Muramasa

I wanted to try something new where two demons relate to one another. Also, thanks for the 100 followers! Sadly, this isn’t a 100 follower special.

Pairing: Okita Souji x fem!samurai reader with a demonic sword who’s apart of the Aizu clan and Kondo’s faction.

Synopsis: You thought he was a cocky brat at first with how much he liked to show off his strength and flaunt his skills against others. Even Serizawa called him a loser for being a try hard. He was called a demon child for having the strongest battle instinct in all the Shinsengumi. Yet, the only demonic thing you could relate to was the cursed blade that had chosen you to be its wielder. In a way, you felt like a demon as well with the power you had from it.

Warnings? A bit of angst/sad, bitter sweet, fluff

WC: 2710

You had no idea why Katamori-san asked you to watch over Kondo’s faction after half a year under the shogunate when they just established themselves as the Shinsengumi in Kyoto. You had the choice to either be a part of Serizawa’s or Kondo’s. Serizawa and Niimi gave you the creeps so you reluctantly decided to join Kondo’s faction in the end.

You weren’t much of a spy but you were more quiet than Harada, the man with the hooded cloak and scythe. He wasn’t near as scary but you wondered where he got the Grim Reaper title from. Hijikata was the mad dog who loses 9/10 times to other members. Yamanami is supposed to be the smartest member. The one that stuck to your mind the most was Okita Souji.

The demon child reminded others without needing to say the words that he was the strongest among everyone. You didn’t even bother to get to know any of them and did your job by patrolling the streets.

You loathed most of Serizawa’s group and refused to acknowledge their presence whenever they walked over to Kondo’s residence area. Saeki— someone who was suspicious of you and had almost gotten into a fight with you but was immediately stopped by Kondo and Okita. Of course… you tried not to get angry but you couldn’t unleash that power in front of everyone.

They called you a cursed witch, but it had the least effect on you. Many of the Shinsengumi accepted who you were despite being a contractor to one of Muramasa’s blades. Nobody judged you, especially the other demon in the group who kept asking to test your combat skills.

That’s when you gained the ‘laziest samurai title’ which irked you more than the cursed witch. Well, Hijikata started it and everyone else followed suit with it. “So I guess Hijikata is right?” Souji sat next to you as you were writing down stuff in your journal.

“Right? What does that mean?” You were annoyed that you had to stop what you were doing.

“You won’t spar against anyone despite Katamori-san said you were one of the best amongst Aizu, so I thought it would be fun to see for myself.” Souji gave off his innocent smile. You sighed and thought it would be better to tell the truth as to why you don’t fight any of them.

“Sometimes… it’s hard to explain. You and everyone already knows that I am in contract with one of the blades of Muramasa. I can’t use it in sparing sessions—"

“Huh? Why?”

“I just can’t. For one, It’s a sure kill if you get cut by it in certain areas unless you sacrifice that limb but the torso? You’d be dead. The second reason, it consumes the mind and takes more than gives. The more I use it, I may lose myself in its curse. I hate using it, but unless I’m dead then there’s no way it just disappears. It’ll find its way to a new wielder. Some of its power is already etched in me so I’m afraid of hurting anyone…” you didn’t know why you just told all of that to the boy who was similar to you.

“Ah, I get it. For the longest time, I was like that before Kondo-san helped me control my urge to… kill.” He was brushing part of his cheek with his index finger while he grinned.

“You don’t judge me?” It was a weird feeling. Most people tend to keep their distance from you. The blade was light and excellent for iaijutsu. The wind vacuum slashes it creates can destroy buildings if you weren’t careful. He didn’t care about the curse that holds over your head?

“Hmm, no. I can’t fully control it either, so I can relate in a way.” He stared ahead and silence engulfed between you two.

Maybe, he wasn’t so bad.

In fact, you were wrong…

The next few days you tried to duel against him after your guy’s talk and you lost each time. He was even holding back his control on his demon to not smash his bokken too hard against yours. Even with the pushback, you were still holding against your own.

You fell backwards and landed on your back while Souji smiled and held his hand out for you to take. “You still hold back, why?” he asked with much curiosity. It’s not like you had a reason to, the longer you were one with the curse of Muramasa, it’s spiritual demonic energy was within you. Something about it was terrifying. Scary? No, it was frightening.

“You won’t understand,” you swatted his hand away as you rubbed your forehead.

He suddenly remembers Kondo telling him similar about being a true samurai and how he would understand later.

He acknowledges that you were strong, and even more stronger when you used Muramasa’s cursed blade. Souji didn’t want you to lose motivation because you can’t beat him. You have won against Hajime, Nagakura and Hijikata numerous times but you still have no chance of beating him.

You wanted him to leave you alone. It’s been several days and he had asked if you’d patrol with him a few times which you declined each time. He was supposed to be the least annoying one, but now he’s somehow irritating you. You normally went with Yamanami and Harada. Souji normally patrolled the streets of Kyoto with Kondo.

The look of the commoners gave whenever the shinsengumi were patrolling, were fear and them spreading rumours. First, you heard some things about ‘how a girl shouldn’t be with them.’

It shouldn’t bother you but Okita grabbed your arm before you were about to say something to them. “Just ignore them. You’ll make us look worse if you start commotion with them,” he whispered next to you. Your mind wasn’t at ease still but you shrugged your shoulders back trying to ignore the whispers amongst the commoners.

It was barely July of 1863 and the sun burned hot down on your skin. You looked over to Souji who was stopping a fight in the middle of the street between a few commoners. Great…

He returned with a smile on his face and you stared at him with confusion. “You tried macarons before?” he opened a box and pushed the entire thing in your arms. Huh? Of course, you tried them.

“Where did you get these? Weren’t you busy dealing with some of the commoners?” You looked down at the organized French pastries in your arms.

“Did you space out? I went to the shop right after,” he gave you another one of those innocent smiles before continuing.

“The blue ones are my favourite,” he took one and ate it. Why was he so nice to you…

The rest of the day was spent talking about your original life with Aizu and how Katamori was like an older brother to you. He had spared your life when he found you with one of Muramasa’s swords and instead of killing you off, you became a contracted owner of the deadly weapon.

“I wish I fought him, he does seem strong.” Souji tilted his head forward as his bangs fell over his eyes once again.

“Really? I beat him in combat a few times, and you beat me in combat. I think you’re the strongest swordsman I’ve ever met, Okita-san.” You hated saying it but there was denying it.

“Souji, you can call me by my given name.” You could feel your cheeks heat up. You had known them for half a year and he’s allowing you to call him by his name.

“Oh… you can call me by name first name as well or whatever you like. I don’t care, honestly.” You were unsure what you were even saying. You two were already on a first-name basis.

Every patrol you were sent on, your schedule changed with Souji wanting to tag with your group. Most Shinsengumi members were in groups patrolling during certain hours and days. Everyone got 1-2 days off to themselves.

After one night patrolling, you had to fight some Choushou loyalists from the anti-shogunate movement, you had to unleash the power of Muramasa from your blade to defend yourself and fight against them. No matter how many times you used its power, you kept resisting it from taking your mind. Souji always checked up on you and made sure you’re alright.

“This empty lodge only had a few of them, go find the others. I’ll be fine here,” your head was in pain and didn’t want him to watch you pass out. You were sitting on the floor of some old inn holding your head between your hands. You overdid it again… you weren’t getting better. Why did he have to be so nice to you? Even at times like this.

“Here, let me take you back.” He tried to reach grab your arm but you pushed him away. He was stunned for a moment and he didn’t want to leave you alone if you were struggling to move.

“I’m fine, I just— I just need…” your head was spinning and you could hear Souji call your name several times in panic before your mind went into a blank state.

When you woke up, your body felt achy and sore. You could tell you were back in your own room and quiet space. Then you remembered you passed out in front of sword demon boy. You groaned from embarrassment, it’s not the first time you had borrowed the power of Muramasa’s cursed blade in exchange for losing your sanity. How could you show that side to him? How long were you knocked out for?

You heard the door to your room open slowly. You didn’t want to lift your head to see who it was. Your eyes were met with the ceiling. “You’re awake,” his familiar voice was filled with relief.

“How long… was I out for?” Your eyes linger over to where he was standing.

“A day and a half,” silence once again filled the room and you had no idea what to feel anymore. That was longer than the last two times you passed out.

“I brought you some water.” He sat next to you and was actually showing a bit of concern from what happened. You carefully looked at him and you had wondered why he was still here. He was dressed casually and wasn’t wearing his blue and white haori meaning he was off duty.

“Just say what you want to say, Souji-san.” You didn’t want to have this conversation but you sat up bringing both of your knees to your chest. Your shoulders were touching but that wasn’t it. What was this weird feeling?

“It’s just… why was your blade overheated? I couldn’t touch it after you passed out.” Your mind went blank. It was demonic after all. Only its wielders can touch it in that state.

“Where is it?” you had asked. Souji told you that he had to rush you back here and some of the others from the Shinsengumi had picked it up when it was cooled off. Rush you back?

“You didn’t have to stop what you were doing for me, did we get them all?” You turned your attention to look at him. His eyes were glued to the wooden floorboards.

“It’s fine, I didn’t want to leave you in such a state. Most have been detained but some escaped.” He wasn’t talkative much unless he was around you for some reason. That was good to hear but still embarrassing he was looking out for you.

“Thanks, I appreciate that but you don’t have to put yourself in danger for my own.” You gripped the mug full of water. You were shaking and Souji calmly told you to take care of yourself better.

After he had left to sleep that night, you had wondered what he meant by that. Take care of yourself better. You should take his advice on that.

The next few days you had rid of your mind of what had happened and was told to take a few days off. Souji had checked up on you every day and stayed by your side when he was free. You liked his company and the way he made you feel comfortable and yourself around him.

As you walked around the residence, you saw Hijikata, Nagakura and Todo sparing against each other but you didn’t see Souji anywhere. Kondo was speaking with Niimi and you loathed that man. He accused you of being a cursed witch which started the rumours in the first place. You were going to say something but Souji greeted you name from behind making you jump a bit.

“Sorry if I startled you, I was feeding the cats.” He was holding a calico cat in his arms.

He looked like he rolled out of bed considering he was still in his green kimono. He was different when he was more relaxed.

You had helped clean the residence instead for the remaining day and looked over Hijikata’s training along with Nagakura who were both very strong. You were starting to warm yourself up to them the more you spent with everyone in Kondo’s group. They were like family to one another.

You quickly found yourself wrapping up Nagakura who was too hurt to move. Yamanami was strong and did this?

“Aren’t you Souji’s girlfriend or sum…” Nagakura scratched the back of his head as you were bandaging his wounds.

“Hm, no. Why?” This piqued your interest. Nagakura shook his head refusing to elaborate.

“He said you were someone close to him, so I thought he meant girlfriend. Never mind then, you should probably leave,” he pushed you away and you stood up exiting the room. That was weird with how he dismissed you quickly.

You were special to Souji? You had assumed everyone here was someone special to him. He considered you someone close to him and that brought you warmth in your heart.

You walked back to your room and saw the demonic blade leaning against the wall in his black sheath. You didn’t even want to or consider it as yours. The blade more owned your soul than you owned it. You wanted to find a way to sever the contract… maybe you could find a better reason to live. Was there a reason to live? You remember you had spoken to Souji about such topics. His reason was to follow behind Kondo’s footsteps and fight for his beliefs.

“You’re awake still?” you forgot to close your door. Or maybe he was checking up on you like usual.

“Ya… I can’t sleep,” you frowned before turning to face him.

“Want me to stay here with you? I don’t think Kondo would mind at all.” You wanted to decline that offer. Why should he suffer with you?

“If you want… it’s probably boring staying here with me—"

“Not at all, I really like your company.” He interrupted you, but you suddenly remember what Nagakura had said. You were someone special to him?

“Remember when you asked me what I live for… I think I know. I want to live for myself and everyone,” you puffed your cheeks out in embarrassment simply due to how short your answer was.

“I want you to live as well, is that selfish?” Souji laid out a tatami mat next to yours.

“No. I shouldn’t try to keep killing myself with what I’ve been doing. I want peace between everyone, that’s my selfish desire.” What were you even doing? What were you even saying? Would he even care if you died? How affected would he be?

“I’d like that as well, only if you’re around. It would feel lonely without you,” he yawned indicating he was tired. You never slept in the same room as with a man.

“With me… around? Lonely without me?” you wanted to know what he meant by those phrases, but he was already asleep.

Was he becoming too attached to you already? Or was it you becoming attached to him more as the days dragged on.

Your desire shifted to wanting to live for them— him mostly.

- end

Note: would only do part 2 if requested. I’m gonna do a request tomorrow and do part 3 of when they hurt your feelings.

[xmyheart-hope2dye]

I wanna talk-

-about a ship I like very much. It’s Reapermare. Imma call it OctoDeath because it sounds silly. (I’m pretty sure Nightmare’s tentacles are supposed to be tree roots, but idk if that’s true.)

If you don’t want to read this, scroll. No point in leaving hate because I will either:

Ignore you

Report and block you, or

Respond (idk how else to put it)

(Someone on Wattpad told me to KMS, and all I did in response was say “No”. Someone else asked them what was wrong with their head.)

Anyway, I wanna talk about their dynamic and how I think their relationship would work. Most of my ideas (and the one who introduced me to this ship) come from @mildarka’s art of these two. (I dunno if I was supposed to tag u. Sorry if you don’t like being tagged)

So I’m not taking full credit for the ideas of this ship. Now, onto the actual ranting part.

So, these two are, at the same time, different and not different. Nightmare causes chaos, destruction, and death for negativity. Reaper’s literal job is to take souls that don’t want to go (I think).

In my mind, if Reaper has a hard time convincing a soul to go with him, that’s gotta create some negativity, right? Which would catch Nightmare’s attention; not by much, but it would. I’m guessing that the feelings from gods, since they’re pretty rare, are at least 10x stronger than a humans/monsters. At least in my mind, they are (I like making god characters on the side). At the most, a gods feelings could be up to 1,000x stronger, which I think is dependent on how long they’ve gone without emotion. So, with that in mind, it catches Nightmare’s attention to some degree.

I think that, at first, Nightmare would hang out near Reaper just to feed off of his powerful negativity. Though it would slowly develop into Reaper trying to bond with Nightmare (cuz this dude’s literally just following him). Nightmare would be apprehensive and cold at first, like how all good tropes go. But, before he knows it, he wants to know more about Reaper than just “he feeds me”.

And, Nightmare being… himself, I feel like he’d be very awkward about it since I imagine he doesn’t have the best communication skills. And this time, he really doesn’t want to mess this up. But once he does start opening up, Reaper ends up doing most of the talking anyway. Somewhere in there, they develop feelings for each other, which brings back the awkwardness, and then an accidental confession happens mid-fight after some miscommunication.

The usual. (Why’s it always the miscommunication, tho? It’s the most frustrating thing in the world when you know it wasn’t what it looked like, but the characters are so- ugh!)

‘Nyway, in the end they get together and live happily ever after. The end. Thank you for listening to my TedTalk. (Those things are actually interesting. Had to watch a few for school. Crazy stuff, man)

[felassan]

"also, on the broadest line around the edge, you can see those symbols again. I’m thinking now that these 6 symbols represent the 6 factions we can choose from for Rook to belong to."

not only that, but the factions of 6 out of our 7 companions, Harding/the Inquisition aside. from some of the things they've said lately (tho at the moment I can't remember specifically where), it sounds like we will encounter each faction in the game too and that they each play a role in the story. in the center is the Veilguard logo itself; it's like representatives from these 6 factions came together to form Voltron The Veilguard. :> about the symbols btw:

The Warden symbol is closer style-wise to this new seemingly updated or northern Warden[?] symbol than it is to previous game/southern Warden[?] symbology (two). shape of the wing, stylization etc. it being 'half' like that gives it the impression of a shield/heraldic beasts.

The Veil Jumper symbol looks to be a halla. it makes me nostalgic for Clan Sabrae heraldry :') makes sense for a faction based in Arlathan and interested in ancient elvhen ruins.

The Shadow Dragons (Tevene faction) have a snake. dragons are all around in Tevinter imagery, a country where they are a symbol of divine power. Another kind of 'worm'/wyrm also kicks around in Tevinter iconography; snakes. in the Imperium heraldry, a serpentine dragon faces off against a snake (opposition..). (side ramble - As a group the Shadow Dragons are a resistance group, they oppose slavery, corrupt rulers and the worst aspects of Tevinter society. Their name makes them seem like 'a different kind of dragon' - an alternative way for the 'dragon' Tevinter is to be, a different future it could have. a different kind of dragon than the dominant ruling one, but one that is currently still overshadowed. it also carries the implication of them working in the shadows and carrying out operations under the radar - this is contrast to the Lucerni, a faction in the Magisterium whose goal is to redeem and restore Tevinter. They're more like a political party, they operate more in public. "lucerna" is Latin for lantern. light, and shadow. Maybe the Shadow Dragons are basically the stealthy/secret operational arm of the Lucerni? like a left and right hand. end side ramble) Snakes crop up in Neve's design (her leg, her hat). I keep thinking about the snake in the Imperium heraldry. with their symbol, it's like the Shadow Dragons are saying they're fighting for a Tevinter.. without the 'dragon' part. in which.. the dragon is a metaphor for the bad stuff? corruption etc? Snakes also carry the symbolism of stealth and slyness, which again fits with the 'shadow' stuff. Would a dragon be able to see a lowly snake coming...? probably not :> I also can't help but think of the imagery of snakes that's to do with healing and medicine. like they wanna de-corrupt Tevinter, heal it of its rot. ALSO. the other thing thing is The Viper from Minrathous Shadows. well, look at that. The Shadow Dragons' symbol is a snake. "We are the Tevinter you forgot". And what do they want? "Everything". maybe The Viper is the founder of the Shadow Dragons? the story mentions they have a contact, a lady who is lightning-smart (Neve?). in the accompanying art-piece, the dealer's silhouette and other aspects of their design are snake-like, recalling Neve and what seems to be 'Shadow Dragon Rook's clothes.

The Lords of Fortune have a cephalopod. (it reminds me of House Greyjoy). makes sense for a faction with ships, dominion over the coasts of Rivain, a pirate-y aesthetic and originating from a nation almost entirely surrounded by sea. maybe this explains the cephalopod that was portrayed 'on' Rivain in the trailer from a few months ago? like maybe it was supposed to represent the Lords of Fortune, their presence in Rivain, and their storyline.

The Mourn Watcher one is just so cool. it's at once both a humanoid skull (you can see the two eyes and the teeth), recalling the symbol for the broader Mortalitasi itself, and a beetle. it makes me think of stuff like scarab beetles and deathwatch beetles, both of which have lots of cool symbolism/lore and cultural meanings irl on stuff like life and death, the cycle, decomposition etc. beetles are also culturally important in Nevarra, where they are prized. lots of households keep them in cages for good luck, and encrusted beetle wings are part of Nevarran decor.

The Crow one is obviously like looking down at a corvid in flight. its head is the top triangular part, but this shape is also known to be worn by Crows as a mask/disguise, and from that perspective the pointy part at the bottom gives the wearer a beaked appearance, masquerade-ball style. the Crows are always watching :>

[irkimatsu]

AHHHHHH I love Husk and your content is by far my FAVORITE 😍 the sweet, the smut, the little bit of both...I love it all.

So I have a cute idea for this one. Neko!reader x husk. The reader isn't fully cat, but has the ears and tail, a cat-like face and of course the mannerisms. Husk is crushing hard and thinks that she (or they, whichever pronouns :) ) is cute and nonchalantly points out that it's adorable when her ears twitch. And then she's like, "And you wonder why we're always messing with you, eyy Kitten?" which makes him all flustered and he can't even say anything.

I can just picture them doing the equivalent of holding hands only their tails wrapped around each other 😚😚

Thank you so much for enjoying my writing!

I envisioned Reader as an anthro like Husk; I'm hoping that's what you meant with your description! Reader gets drunk and rants to Husk about cat instincts, Husk offers some advice, light flirting and flustered Husk ensues. I hope this is close enough to what you wanted! 1.2k words, SFW, female reader!

---

You’ve had way too much to drink.

It’s not like you’re inexperienced at drinking; you knew the hard stuff you were knocking back would be enough to get you wasted. That was the point.  Maybe if you got drunk enough, you could shut off the stupid cat instincts that hadn’t left you alone since the moment you died. The exercises you’ve been doing at this hotel for the past few months may have taught you things like not stealing and believing in the power of friendship, but there hadn’t yet been any lessons on how to stop swiping at your own tail every time it entered the corner of your field of vision.

You’re not sure if the alcohol has turned off the instincts, but it sure has turned on your mouth. Without thinking about what you’re saying, you’ve been ranting to the bartender for the past thirty minutes, barely pausing to take a breath. Surely he doesn’t mind, right? Not only are bartenders supposed to listen when their customers want to bitch, but he’s in the exact same position as you are as far as species goes!

“...and the fuckin’ hairballs!” is the latest thought in your stream of word vomit. “I thought mucus was bad! Hairballs! They get stuck in my throat, and they itch like hell until I can cough ‘em up!”

“They sell stuff down here to take care of that,” the bartender says, pouring you another drink without you asking. “It tastes like shit, but it works. I don’t get ‘em anymore unless I forget to drink it.”

“And what about shedding?!” you continue on as if he didn’t say anything. “It’s impossible to keep my room clean! It’s like the more I clean up, the more fur there is!”

“Niffty’s been helpin’ me with that since I met her. She gets pissed about the fur I leave everywhere otherwise. She ain’t gentle with that brush, though.”

You take another gulp of your drink and slam it down onto the bar. “Fuck, think I just swallowed some fur…”

“You haven’t even been dead for a year yet, right?” Husk asks. “ That’s barely anything. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to get used to being a cat. Some of the bullshit never goes away, but it becomes part of you.”

“Do you like being a cat?” you ask.

He laughs at your question. “Hell no! But what choice do I have? There’s no going back to bein’ human for any of us. May as well learn how to deal with it.” He takes a gulp of his own drink, not even bothering to pour it into a glass. “If ya want, I can take you to a good supply place sometime. They’ve got good products if you can put up with the fact that it looks like a fuckin’ pet store.”

“Hmm…” you neither accept nor deny his offer. You only take another drink, swallowing more damn fur in the process. That’s definitely gonna lead to some late-night hairballs. “It’s so annoying…” you whine as you plop your chin on the bar. “Why couldn’t I have been something cool? You know I saw a giant lizard the other day? Lucky bastard…”

“Bet they have a hell of a time findin’ clothes,” he says. “Or even gettin’ into places to begin with.”

“And even you got wings…” you continue on.

“Yeah. Wings. I get to clean up after fur and feathers, and if I don’t find the perfect position while sleeping the fuckin’ things go numb.” He takes your glass away, but you’re too lost in your own self-pity to protest. “We’ve all gotta get used to our new bodies when we get down here, and I doubt it’d be any different if we somehow got into heaven. Just gotta make the best of it.” He turns around to put away some bottles. “Besides, it’s not all bad. At least you’re cute.”

“...what was that?” you say, not expecting that word out of Husk’s mouth.

“I said you’re cute. Everyone thinks cats are cute, don’t they? Even I liked ‘em when I was alive. I don’t want to be one, but you can’t resist their mannerisms, can ya? The big eyes, the soft fur…”

He turns around just in time to see your right ear flicking in annoyance from the condescension. “The twitchy ears…”

You smirk, knowing the weight of what you’re about to say next but too drunk to stop yourself. “So now you get why Angel and I are always commenting on your mannerisms, eh, kitty?”

“Whoa! Hey!” His fur bristles, and you know you shouldn’t find his own agitation cute, but you can’t help yourself. It helps you understand the way he was just talking to you, at least. “That’s different! You’re a young lady! You died at, what, 25? You’re supposed to be cute! I’m an old man who drank myself to death. Nothin’ cute about that.”

“You’ve still got the big eyes and the soft fur…” you continue on.

He groans in response. “If you were a stranger saying that shit to me, I’d kill you.”

“So what makes me so special?” Your tail waves playfully behind you, and he’s obviously following it with his eyes and blushing.

“I…” he starts, but never manages to come up with the rest of the sentence. “Jesus Christ,” is all he has to offer before grabbing a couple of glasses from the shelf. He fills them both with water, then carries them around to the other side of the bar.

“Here,” he says as he sets one of the glasses in front of you. “Drink this. You’re gonna feel like shit in the morning. May as well not be dehydrated on top of everything else.”

You stare at the cup as he takes a seat on the stool next to you. “How do you resist the urge to knock cups over?” you ask.

“Lots of self-control,” he says with a smirk before guzzling his glass in one go.

You place your paw on the side of the glass, originally intending to pick it up, but an overwhelming spark takes over your brain, and you start easing the cup toward the edge of the bar. Husk grabs it and places it back where it started before it can crash to the floor.

“You’ll get used to it,” he assures you. He’s finished his water, but for a reason you can’t determine, he’s still sitting next to you.

“How long have you been down here?” you ask. “A couple years?”

“Mmm… fifty?” he guesses. “Almost as long as I was alive, at this point.”

“Fifty years?!” you exclaim. “And you still have to deal with cat instincts?!”

He shrugs. “Like I said, it never goes away. Just gotta get used to it, take the good with the bad.”

“The good…” you repeat. “Like being cute?”

“Oh, shut up,” he says. “...but in your case… yeah. Like being cute.”

You finally manage to pick up your water without giving into the desire for destruction. As you take a sip, something feathery starts to tickle against your tail. You look over at Husk from the corner of your eye. He’s trying to be nonchalant, not even looking at you, but there’s only one thing that could be brushing against you right now.

Without looking, you shift your tail, allowing it to curl around Husk’s. Husk curls his around yours in turn, your tail tips forming a spiral that just barely reaches the floor.

It’s the closest he’ll get to flirting for now. You’ll take what you can get.