#Affordable Places to Live in Texas

[vaguenotions]

I really hate feeling irrational and upset over food. One of the worst things to be upset about. It feels SO fucking stupid.

[neolithicsheep]

I've been meaning to write this down for some time because there are some fundamental errors that people keep making in crowdfunding/sales that shoot their campaigns in the foot. So here's a list of easy principles.

Who am I and why should you listen to me? I am a freelance chaos marketer who has raised well over $100,000 when totaling up various crowdfunding campaigns, mostly for aid to Afghanistan. In addition I've managed to successfully market everything from stuffed plush koalas to hydration salts. Why am I putting this out here for free? Because despite a years long track record of success in social media marketing no one will hire me because I don't have a college degree, so I might as well help people out who can't afford to hire full time marketing. 

If you'd like to hire me to help you evaluate your marketing and sales and teach you better skills on a 1 to 1 basis then hit me up, I am often willing to barter, esp with artists in a variety of mediums! 

Anyway on to HOW TO CONVINCE PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU MONEY:

TL;DR: use positive messaging that humanizes everyone involved and make it as easy as possible for people to give you money.

1. Shame and guilt are demotivators. They will not inspire people to give you money. “Why aren't people helping” “I guess people don't care” “This isn't getting enough shares/donations” etc etc. Online fundraising is often frustrating, heartbreaking, and will make you angry, especially when there's a humanitarian crisis involved. It is critical that if you are raising funds for someone else that you have a place to vent that is not the audience you would like to donate to the cause. 

2. Use motivating messages instead! “You can help!” “Even a small donation is important because it tells Recipient they're not alone, and people care” “We can't fix the whole world, but we can make this one thing right, and that means something”. Emphasize that this is a problem that the reader can help fix with even a small effort. With items for sale, tell a story. "I drew this thinking about how safe I always felt under a tree in my childhood backyard". "I chose the colors in this shawl to remind me of sagebrush and piñon pine in my favorite place."

3. Make it easy for people to give you money. Never talk about your product or cause without a link that leads directly to where people can give you money. They should be able to click one link on your post and land at the fundraiser or your shop. Every required click is going to lose people, so minimize the number of them required. This also means if you have a list of fundraisers for people to choose from the ones at the bottom will be neglected - people will hit the ones at the top. Be sure to take those off when they're met or periodically shuffle the list around to make sure everyone gets a chance to be in the first 5 spots. In online stores people will often only look at the first page or two of items so be sure to shuffle things around and remove out of stock items that are taking up prime real estate.

4. Humanize the recipient - this can be tricksy when raising charitable aid because you don't want to be exploitative. But to use my last Afghan campaign as an example, “We need to raise $500 for an Afghan family” is less effective than “This Afghan family's home was damaged in heavy rains that caused extensive flooding. They only need $500 to repair and rebuild so they can stay in their home and not become displaced.”  If possible, tell as much of the recipient's story as they consent to. Eg “Fred is seven and loves dinosaurs. His favorite is brontosaurus, and he carries a stuffed one with him everywhere. He wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up and discover a complete brontosaurus skeleton that he can give the same name as his stuffed friend. Unfortunately he's also a trans boy living in Texas and his family needs $1500 to rent a Uhaul and get to Colorado so he can grow up in safety and do that.”

5. If you're not the recipient, humanize yourself while you're at it! “I'd be really grateful if you all could share or donate” “This fundraiser really means a lot to me because…” “Thank you so much for any help, whether sharing or donating” 

6. Treat the audience like humans. Speak to them like they are people you're having a conversation with, not ATMs. This ultimately is the goal of not using shame/guilt and humanizing yourself and the recipient. 

7. Set low goals and bump them up when met. One of the weird things about people is they prefer to give to successful fundraisers. Yeah I don't know either. So you're more likely to get the full amount you need if you set a partial goal initially and then raise it when that's met. Raise it in small increments and raise it repeatedly as those goals are hit to keep momentum going. You can't always control this so if you're boosting someone else's fundraiser you can do it artificially via asks like “Hey y'all can we get together and put $500 on this?”

[schisms]

somth they don’t tell you about utah (and why would they but i digress). the sun is literally out until at least 9pm

[mssalo]

safety - Part: I

Summary: After years of isolation, Joel Miller's life revolves around control and keeping danger at bay, his past as a soldier leaving him constantly on edge. But when a sweet, soft-spoken young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. Despite his efforts to remain detached, Joel becomes obsessed with keeping her safe from the dangers he’s certain are lurking everywhere.

As his protective instincts morph into darker desires, the lines between safeguarding her and possessing her begin to blur.

Warnings will vary by chapter depending on the content.

Warnings: Dark!Joel, 18+ MDNI, Obsession themes, Stalking, Joel has major Trauma/PTSD, Mentions of military past, Manipulation, Power dynamics, Joel needs a hug and therapy. As per usual.

4k

Enjoy!

Part II Part III Part IV Part V

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

Joel Miller wasn’t the type of man who sought peace or ease.

He’d spent too many years living a different kind of life-one built around routines of survival, discipline, and a level of alertness that never quite faded.

Now, back in Texas, he carried that constant vigilance like a second skin.

He’d settled in a small, secluded home just outside of Austin.

The area was quiet, isolated, the kind of place where nobody asked too many questions.

The locals respected boundaries, and Joel had made his clear. He kept to himself, lived a simple life, and preferred things that way.

People complicated things—something he wasn’t interested in anymore.

Most of his days followed a routine that he clung to with the same intensity he had in the service.

Early mornings were spent with coffee and silence, the smell of pine trees drifting through the windows of his old, weathered cabin.

Afterward, he'd take to the woods, either hunting or just walking trails he knew as well as the lines in his hands.

Out there, he could let his mind focus on something tangible—the tracks of a deer, the feel of the rifle in his hand.

There, his senses sharpened again, always on alert.

Joel’s awareness never dulled, not even after all these years.

Every noise, every shift in the wind or crunch of leaves beneath his boots, kept him on edge.

He was always scanning his surroundings, ready to react.

He knew it wasn’t just about the hunt.

It was the way his brain had been wired, after all the years of needing to be ready—whether it was for survival or something worse.

It wasn’t paranoia, just the reality of a mind that had been trained for danger. He told himself.

He didn't see many people. He didn’t want to.

But the thing about always being on edge was that it left little room for rest.

At night, the memories clawed their way in—images he’d rather forget but couldn’t.

Sleep was shallow and rare.

Even when he managed to drift off, he was often jolted awake by some phantom noise or sensation.

And once he was up, it was hard to shake the feeling that something or someone was out there.

He’d get up, check the locks, sometimes even patrol the perimeter of his land just to make sure.

In the quiet of his cabin, with only the crackling of a fire or the hum of the wind for company,

Joel would pour himself a drink.

Whiskey, usually. Something to dull the noise in his head, to take the edge off the constant tension that never quite left him.

But he never drank too much. He couldn’t afford to. He needed to stay sharp, always ready—just in case.

His life wasn’t complicated, and he liked it that way. He didn’t need company or connection, not anymore.

He kept things simple: survival, routine, and the solitude of the Texas wilderness.

It asked nothing of him, and in return, he didn’t have to share the parts of himself he’d buried long ago.

· · ─────

Waking up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat had become part of his routine, and after tossing and turning for hours, Joel would get up, make coffee, and try to focus on the small tasks that anchored him.

The sun was just beginning to rise as Joel Miller pushed the key into the ignition of his truck, the familiar rumble beneath him a small comfort in an otherwise uneasy world.

He had always been an early riser, but lately, the habit had turned into more of a necessity.

Driving out into the quiet Texas morning was one of those tasks.

The roads were mostly empty, and Joel preferred it that way—less to watch for, less noise, fewer things to trust.

He liked things simple.

Routine. Predictable.

After everything, it was easier to stick to what he knew, to keep the world at arm's length.

It was safer.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as his eyes flicked from side to side, scanning the road ahead and the landscape around him.

There was no telling who or what could be out there, even in a sleepy Texas town.

He wasn’t stupid enough to let his guard down, not after everything he'd seen.

Trust was a currency he couldn’t afford to spend, not anymore.

He kept the radio off, preferring the silence. It gave him space to think, to process.

Most of the time, though, it just made him more aware of the quietness around him.

Every little creak or snap of a twig was magnified, every shadow cast by the rising sun something to take note of.

He didn't trust the peaceful exterior of the world anymore.

Too much could change in an instant.

It was exhausting, always being on edge like that, but Joel had learned to live with it.

He couldn’t imagine doing things any other way.

As he drove further down the road toward the camping&outdoor supply store, he caught a glimpse of something moving in the distance—a flicker of motion between the trees.

His heart quickened, and his foot instinctively lifted off the gas pedal.

He slowed down just enough to check the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the tree line.

Nothing. It could’ve been an animal, but Joel’s mind didn’t let him settle on that.

Even when he convinced himself it was probably just wildlife, he remained alert, tension rippling through his muscles.

"Could be anything," he muttered under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter. "Ain't takin' chances."

The camping store was a bit of a drive, but Joel didn’t mind.

The solitude of the open road helped him clear his head, as much as his thoughts would let him, anyway.

Hunting was something he could still rely on.

He didn't need anyone else for it, and it gave him an excuse to get away from people.

He wasn’t much for conversation these days, always keeping interactions short and transactional.

He liked the supply store too; the guy who ran it knew not to ask too many questions, just handled the sale and let Joel be.

It suited him fine.

As the store came into view, Joel exhaled, his mind already running through what he needed to pick up.

The truck tires crunched against the gravel as he pulled into the lot, parking in a spot that allowed him a clear view of the entrance and the surrounding area.

Old habits.

Joel turned off the ignition and leaned back in the seat, taking a moment to observe the store.

His hand absentmindedly reached toward the glove compartment, where his gun was stashed, just in case. He didn’t need it often, but knowing it was there kept him grounded.

After a few seconds of scanning the area and feeling satisfied that nothing was amiss, he stepped out of the truck.

The supply store wasn’t busy, just a couple of people browsing inside.

As Joel stepped into the store, the familiar scent of leather and canvas greeted him. Country music hummed low in the background, and the quiet atmosphere brought him a sense of calm.

The simplicity of the place was something he appreciated—straightforward, nothing complicated.

Just the way he liked it.

His boots thudded softly on the wooden floor as he made his way toward the back, scanning the shelves for the hunting gear he needed. It was his routine, one he kept to himself.

The sudden crash jolted him like a gunshot.

Joel’s instincts took over, his body reacting before his mind caught up.

His hand flew to his side, fingers brushing the handle of the knife he always kept on him. His eyes darted around the store, scanning for threats, muscles coiled tight and ready.

He felt that old familiar rush of adrenaline—the kind that came from years of having to be on guard every second.

His heart pounded, the edges of his vision sharpening as he prepared for the worst.

But then, he saw her.

Just a girl. Bending over, trying to gather the gear she’d knocked to the floor. No threat. No danger. Just her.

Joel exhaled slowly, the tension easing out of his shoulders as the world settled back into place.

He let go of the knife, though his pulse still hammered in his ears. He hadn’t been expecting someone like her to trigger that reaction. Not here. Not now.

But for some reason, he couldn’t look away.

She was clumsy, but calm—no panic, no rush to fix what she’d done.

It was as if she was used to things slipping from her hands, not bothered in the slightest. That softness, that ease, it drew him in like nothing else had in a long time.

And even though the tension from the noise had faded, he found himself still rooted to the spot, watching her.

His eyes trailed over her, catching the way her long, soft looking, hair tumbled down her back, how her tender fingers fumbled with the items before her.

She was a mess of soft edges, and he hadn’t seen anything that soft in years.

He’s not used to that.

His world had become hard, sharp, filled with things that made sense, with people who didn’t get too close.

People like him, always on edge, always prepared.

She stood up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and for the first time, Joel saw her face.

Young. Too young. Early twenties, maybe.

Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink, her lips parted in what looked like mild embarrassment as she glanced around at the mess she had made.

But it was her eyes that hit him the hardest.

Doe eyed, wide, bright, completely unguarded.

So easy to read.

She looked right at him, her gaze catching his, and Joel’s breath hitched in his chest.

What was this girl doing? Looking at him like that?

She wasn’t supposed to look at him that way—not with that kind of openness, that kind of… trust.

Her blush deepened as her gaze flickered to the ground, but not before Joel saw it creep up her neck, warming her face.

She was blushing because of him.

When was the last time that happened?

“Oh! Sorry,” she said, her voice light, soft, but not the irritating kind of soft.

It was smooth in a way that made something settle in Joel’s chest. Normally, he hated small talk.

People’s voices grated on him. But hers didn’t.

Her voice wrapped around him, warm and gentle, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, Joel didn’t hate it.

“I didn’t see you there,” she continued, letting out a nervous laugh, her hands brushing against the fallen gear.

“I swear, I’m always knocking things over.” She smiled shyly, that blush still clinging to her cheeks, and Joel’s chest tightened again.

She was yapping—just rambling on in a way that would’ve made him turn his back on anyone else. But he couldn’t move.

He was locked in place, listening to her soft, musical voice as if it was something he hadn’t heard in years.

Maybe because it was. Maybe because no one ever talked to him like this anymore.

Most people avoided him.

They saw the hard set of his jaw, the cold glint in his eyes, and they stayed far, far away.

And that was just how he liked it. Less mess, less trouble.

But not her. She was still standing there, babbling about how clumsy she was, her voice a soft hum in his ears.

Joel felt something shift inside him, something he wasn’t sure he liked. He didn’t know her.

Shouldn’t care about her babbling, or the way her scent—something fresh and sweet—drifted toward him, making his head swim.

But here he was, standing there, drinking in her voice, her scent, like he hadn’t been around anyone like her in years.

Which, to be fair, he hadn’t.

Joel cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak, though his voice came out rougher than he’d intended. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he muttered, his words gruff, but his feet still rooted to the spot.

Her smile widened, and her eyes lit up.

The warmth in them caught him off guard. He wasn’t prepared for that.

“Thanks for not laughing at me,” she said with a small, bashful laugh, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her jacket. “Most people would’ve.”

Joel’s brow furrowed. “Why would I laugh?”

She shrugged, glancing at the gear still scattered on the floor. “I’m kind of a mess.”

Her words didn’t sit right with him. How could someone like her—someone so soft, so full of light—call herself a mess? He is a mess.

But before he could respond, she smiled again, her lips curving up in that sweet way that made his chest tighten all over again.

And that scent… God, he couldn’t place it, but it clung to her, swirling around him like a warm blanket.

His mind raced, cataloging every little detail about her.

Her soft pretty eyes. The way her smile made the corners of her eyes crinkle just a little. The way she smelled, like fresh air and something sweet. Vanilla?

He was reading her, studying her like he used to study his surroundings, picking up on every detail.

But none of it made sense. She didn’t make sense.

Normally, he’d be long gone by now. His thoughts already moving on.

But she was still talking, still smiling up at him, and instead of walking away, he just… stared.

She cleared her throat again, glancing down at her hands before looking back up at him.

“Do you work around here?” she asked, her voice a little softer now, a little shyer.

Joel blinked, realizing he hadn’t said a damn thing in what felt like minutes.

He shook his head. “Nah, just pickin’ up some things.” His voice sounded foreign to him—rough, cold, not at all the kind of tone that matched the warmth she was giving him.

But she didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her lips curving up in that smile again.

“Oh, cool. What are you picking up?”

Joel stared at her, unsure of why she was still talking to him, still smiling at him.

But he found himself answering her anyway. “Just some gear. Hunting stuff.”

Her eyes brightened, her smile widening even more. “Oh, hunting! That’s cool. I’ve never been, but I always thought it seemed kind of… peaceful, you know? Just you and nature.”

Peaceful? Joel had never thought of hunting as peaceful. Necessary, sure. But peaceful? Not in the way she was describing.

He grunted, not sure how to respond, but she just kept smiling, her voice still light, still soft.

“Oh, gosh,” she said, standing up with a bundle of fallen gear in her hands, a sheepish smile on her face. “I could never hurt an animal, though. I don’t know how people do it. Like, I get hunting and all, but... me? No way. I’d be useless out there.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, still caught between the sharp edge of his earlier reaction and the softness of her voice.

“Right,” he muttered, nodding slightly, feeling more awkward than he had in years.

“Well,” Joel grunted, his voice a little rougher than intended, “it ain’t about enjoyin’ it. It’s necessary. You do what you gotta do.”

And for the life of him, Joel couldn’t understand why he didn’t just walk away.

He should’ve. He should’ve grabbed what he needed and left.

But something about her—her scent, her smile, her softness—kept him rooted in place.

He wasn’t good at this. Talking. Interacting. Especially not with someone like her—someone who looked at him like he wasn’t something to be avoided.

But she was smiling at him, her eyes wide and innocent, like she wasn’t aware of how the world really worked.

Before he could say anything else, he saw her blush deepen, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket.

She was nervous, but not in the way people usually got around him.

She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t backing away.

She was blushing because of him.

Hm?

As the awkward silence stretched between them, Joel cleared his throat, the sound rough and abrupt.

He hadn’t realized how long he’d been standing there, just staring at her while she kept talking, her soft voice filling the space between them.

He needed to go.

This whole interaction had lasted far too long, longer than he was comfortable with.

His chest tightened with a mix of confusion and frustration, and he could feel the tension creeping into his limbs, urging him to move, to walk away.

She was still smiling at him, her eyes bright, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

“Right,” Joel muttered, his voice gruffer than he intended.

“I should… get goin’.” He nodded awkwardly toward the hunting gear in his hand, using it as an excuse to leave.

Her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes flickering with a hint of confusion.

“Oh, sure! No problem,” she said quickly, her voice still sweet, but there was something softer in it now, like she wasn’t quite sure what she’d done wrong.

Joel could feel her eyes on him as he turned away, the tension in his shoulders growing with every step he took.

He forced himself to keep walking, not allowing himself to glance back, not letting himself think about the way her scent still lingered in the air around him.

As he pushed open the door of the shop, the cool air hit his face, a stark contrast to the warmth that had been building inside him.

He needed to get out of there. Now.

“Have a good day!” she called after him, her voice still light, still warm.

Joel didn’t respond.

He just kept walking, his boots heavy against the gravel as he made his way to his truck, his mind already trying to shove the whole interaction into the back of his mind.

It shouldn’t have affected him like that.

Joel climbed into his truck, the door creaking as it shut with a heavy thud.

The sun was setting, casting a golden light over the horizon, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he sat there, staring straight ahead.

He let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had settled deep in his chest.

That girl—he couldn’t get her out of his head. It didn’t make sense.

Her smile. The way her cheeks flushed when she looked at him.

The softness in her voice, the way she smelled—fresh, sweet, and somehow... so pure.

His brow furrowed as the memory tugged at him, gnawing at the edges of his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

He hadn’t felt like this in years—hadn’t felt much of anything, to be honest.

And yet, there it was. Something stirring inside him, something he couldn’t ignore.

With a grunt, he turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life.

He needed to get his mind straight, back to reality, back to the things that actually mattered.

Surviving.

Not some girl in a supply shop.

It couldn’t be because of her.

But as he shifted the truck into gear, his grip on the wheel tightened even more.

He couldn’t deny the physical reaction in his body—the tension building low in his gut, the heat rising through his chest.

Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his breath catching for a moment.

He hadn’t even noticed it before, hadn’t allowed himself to.

But now, as he adjusted himself, the realization hit him with a force that nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs.

He was hard.

His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of it settling low in his gut.

How long had it been?

He couldn’t even remember the last time he felt like this, the last time his body reacted this way.

But it couldn’t be because of the girl in the shop, right?

“Jesus.” He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck tightening as he fought the urge to dwell on it. “There was no way.”

She was just a kid. I mean, a woman sure. But so young, soft, innocent.

Completely the opposite of everything he was—everything he’d become.

Joel’s grip on the steering wheel tightened even further, his mind racing.

This was wrong. He shouldn’t be thinking about her like this, shouldn’t be feeling this way.

But the more he tried to push it down, the more it rose to the surface.

Her voice, the way she’d blushed when she looked at him, the scent of her clinging to the air around her like a warmth he hadn’t known he needed.

Joel shifted again, trying to shake the thoughts from his head. He’d drive home, clear his mind, and forget about it.

Forget about her.

But as he drove down the empty road, the tension in his body only seemed to build. It had been years. Years since anyone, or anything, had made him feel like this.

And the truth gnawed at him, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

It was because of her.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

moodboard:

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

New series incoming!! Thank you for the nice comments, they make me the most motivated to keep writing. :)

[mandoalorian]

save a horse, ride a cowboy

pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

masterlist

warnings: EXPLICIT, no minors. m!masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism to some extent, riding, unprotected p in v. both so so touch starved. joel has a lot to teach the reader.

notes: 1000 notes on my last post— thank you. I haven’t written in a long time and get quite anxious to post new fics, but when the response is that great, how could I not? You make me feel way more confident with my writing and encourage me to post more often. I hope to soon get to a place where I can start accepting requests again and writing what you want me to.

Joel didn’t like you— that much was clear. He hadn’t spoken a word to you since daybreak, when he left Tess at the QZ to deal with ‘unfinished business’ and promised her to deliver you to the outskirts of Boston without Fedra knowing. It was a difficult journey with the soldiers scouting the area on every corner, but after around six hours of travelling on foot, you and Joel had reached the border of Cornwall, Canada, which is exactly where you needed to be.

Unbeknownst to Joel, you wanted to be in Canada because that’s where your parents were. Or so, where you last heard they were. You’d do anything to reunite with them and make sure they were safe but you weren’t exactly good with a gun and you weren’t a particularly fast runner either. You needed someone like Joel to smuggle you out of the Quarantine Zone. He was your protector.

“You haven’t said a word to me all day,” you acknowledged when you couldn’t sleep that night. You lay next to Joel in your own sleeping bag, framed by a roaring fire and underneath tall, forested shelter. “Why?”

Joel huffed out a sigh and rolled over onto his back, now looking up at the starry night sky.

He didn’t reply.

You gave him a few minutes and tried to gather your thoughts, hoping he’d eventually cave and tell you why he’d hated you all this time. Had you done something wrong? You didn’t think so. Hell, you’d only met him earlier in the day. You’d hardly had enough of an influence on him to hate you. You liked to think of yourself as big and strong and apathetic in regards to people’s opinion of you. In the world that you lived in, you couldn’t afford to give a damn. And yet, you did. You couldn’t help it, it was just who you were. You got anxious about it if you thought about it too long and so you would desperately try and find a distraction or think of something else to focus on. The trees— the stars— the fire— Joel.

He was the epitome of ‘grumpy old man’. You briefly wondered if he was this grumpy before the apocalypse. Why was he so highly strung? Sure, life wasn’t exactly good or easy for him— but it wasn’t good or easy for anyone.

“I didn’t tell you why I wanted to go to Canada,” you said slowly, figuring that if you could open up to the man, then maybe he could at least offer you a few words back. “My parents are there. I think they are anyway. My father sent a letter over to the QZ months ago but I only just got it on Tuesday. I don’t know if they’re still there but I need to check. My mom is sick and I just… need to be with them… and I couldn’t go alone. I wouldn’t last two seconds out there with infected. So I guess, what I’m trying to say is, tha—“

“Okay.” Joel cut you off abruptly. He didn’t want your ‘thank you’s’ or your tokens of gratitude. He was doing a job and he was only here to get paid.

“Where are you from?” you asked him quietly. He shuffled but didn’t reply, and so you were prompted to follow on further. “You got an accent. Southern, there’s no doubting that. Tennessee…—?”

“Texas.” Joel corrected and you smiled to yourself. He may have been a man of few words but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you think he was from Tennessee.

“Texas huh?” you beamed brightly. Joel didn’t move his head, but he looked over to you and noticed your grin. “So you’re like, a cowboy.”

You giggled playfully and nudged his arm, but he only grunted and closed his eyes.

“You ever ride a horse?” you asked him.

“You’re annoying,” Joel sighed, rubbing his temples, but he supposed that— if he had to be honest with himself— he was somewhat amused by your plentiful questions. “But yeah. I’ve rode a horse.”

“I always wanted to ride a horse, but I don’t think I’d be any good at it,” you admitted sheepishly. “No co-ordination.”

“It’s all in the hips.” Joel explained and his interest in horses took you by surprise. This was the most he talked all day.

You pursed your lips together fighting back another smile. There was no denying the rush of blood that flushed to your cheeks as you felt them heat up over the thought of the Cowboy riding his horse. But then you remembered how he’d also just expressed his irritation with you and your abundance of pointless questions and you felt your heart drop in your chest slightly. A pang of guilt.

You told yourself that it was okay— no big deal— and it didn’t matter if he found you annoying. No, it didn’t matter that the extremely attractive Texan man who hadn’t uttered a single word to you all day, found you annoying.

You’d been so lonely recently. So lonely. You’d kill for a friend. A partner. Someone. And perhaps it was your fault for getting your hopes up when you met Joel. You figured that maybe you could finally have someone in your life who liked you back for you, and didn’t want to use you or hurt you in some kind of unexpected way.

“I— I don’t mean to be annoying, y’know. I just— I’m sorry,” you murmured, rolling over onto your side and facing the other way from Joel. “Uhm— good night.”

Joel wasn’t a heartless monster. He wasn’t as cold and calculating as he let off to be, but he sure as hell wasn’t innocent and pure-of-heart either. He was a broken shell of a man simply trying to get by, and the way he saw it, he couldn’t afford the time or effort to make friendships or have partners or even anything more than an acquaintance. It just wasn’t on his radar.

And although he was certainly taken aback with how beautiful you were, he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything he wouldn’t do with any other piece of cargo. This was a delivery, after all. A smuggle run. And he had to be professional about it.

But you were so— so beautiful. During the hours of hiking you and Joel did through the fields and forests, he often lagged behind you and consciously allowed you to take the lead when he thought it was safe to do so. Really though, he just liked to take a few seconds to admire you when you weren’t looking. You were funny and smart and although you couldn’t aim a gun to save your life, you might’ve been able to charm a Clicker away from you if you tried hard enough.

Joel enjoyed listening to you babble on, despite displaying no signs or signals to show that he had any interest in you. He couldn’t do that because he didn’t want to lead you on or give you the wrong impression. He really did like you, but if he dared to open his mouth, Joel was certain he’d slip up and say the wrong thing or embarrass himself. And so to him, it was better to not say anything at all. However, his heart would warm when you would get bored along the way and start humming— and eventually singing. You were in no way melidous, but still, you weren’t trying to be. Joel wondered what it would be like in another universe where your lives weren’t constantly at stake. Maybe then he’d grow the courage to actually have a decent conversation with you.

But this wasn’t another universe. This was reality and Joel had lost all hope in humankind a long time ago. Joel allowed himself to get lost in his own thoughts for a long time and by the time he’d snapped out of it, you were already fast asleep next to him, emitting light snores. He watched you, watched as your chest rose and fell with every breath. You looked so peaceful.

Truth was, Joel wasn’t entirely sure he could fall asleep here next to you. There was no way of telling if this forest was safe. Certainly he found it difficult to imagine there’d be signs of infected around but people? That was certainly plausible. Making sure his rifle was close enough to grab in case of an emergency, Joel took another glance towards you.

So goddamn pretty.

Joel didn’t know when, but at some point in the night, he’d gotten hard. Probably because he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you all night. He felt like such a creep for watching you sleep, but even under the pearly white stars and the sunset orange embers bouncing from the campfire, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever saw. And he wanted you.

Now, Joel probably wasn’t as touch-starved as you were, but still, it had been a helluva long time since he last got laid. Without drawing his gaze away from you, he reached his hand down into his sleeping bag and dipped it into his boxer shorts began to pump at his already throbbing manhood. His eyes snapped shut at the shock of the thrill which raced through his body. There was something so erotic about doing this outside, with you laying next to him, unbeknownst to it all. Stifling a groan, with his free hand Joel gathered the material of his sleeping bag and squeezed it with pleasure.

The coarseness, roughness, of his hands was never ideal, but he had no trouble imagining the softness of yours. Your hands were a lot smaller than his, and your fingers were a lot thinner, and as he stroked his cock, his toes curled at the thought of you in between his legs, playing with him.

He hissed your name through his teeth as he begin to feel a knot tie in his lower stomach, indicating that he was close. God, he’d only been at himself for a few minutes and he was going crazy for you. You stirred slightly at the mention of your name but Joel wasn’t paying attention anymore. Now his eyes were shut and his entire body was tensed up as his hand movements became faster. He guessed it wouldn’t be so bad if he finished quick because the longer he touched himself, the more chance you’d wake up and discover him.

But for some reason, that only stirred Joel on even more. Of course, he wasn’t trying to wake you up, but there came a point where he was so enveloped in his own lustfilled thoughts, he didn’t even notice you whisper his name softly through the night.

“Joel?”

Briefly, Joel registered the sound of your voice but he thought nothing of it. So deep in thought— he was close. He moaned your name back.

You stilled, your eyes widening when your gaze dropped to his crotch and you noticed the movements of his hands underneath the thin material of the sleeping bag.

“Oh… Joel.” you mumbled, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you nimbly slipped out of your sleeping bag and quietly crawled over to him.

He still hadn’t noticed you, but between the tinnitus in his right ear and being so lost in his own thoughts, you couldn’t blame him. On your knees and by his side, you placed the palm of your hand on his chest and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, alerting him immediately.

His movements stopped and his eyes snapped open in horror, only to be met by your wide smirk.

“Hey cowboy,” you teased, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Shit.” Joel cursed, looking away from you. “I— you shouldn’t have saw me— I’m—“

You hushed him by placing a soft, chase kiss upon his lips. Joel froze and softened under you, completely feeling at ease under your touch. It has been years since he had been kissed. You hovered over him, finding his gaze in the dark before pressing a harder, more intimate kiss to his lips. Joel moaned underneath you and brought out his hand from under the sleeping bag, releasing his cock and bringing it to cradle the back of your head.

“Let’s get you out of here,” you giggled, unzipping Joel’s sleeping bag and bringing yours next to his, giving you both some kind of barrier between the grassy ground.

Joel’s belt was already undone and the zipper of his jeans pulled down.

Still beaming, you straddled Joel, positioning yourself over his lap and continued unbuttoning his shirt before before peeling it off his torso and discarding it into the corner.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Joel asked softly and his tone of voice took you by surprise.

“If I didn’t want to be doing this, I wouldn’t be grinding on you already, cowboy,” you giggled, thrusting your hips over the material of his jeans and getting a feel for his bulge.

Joel swallowed and nodded his head in agreement. Hastily, he brought his hands to your waist and guided you over his hips. You tossed back your head and let out a moan.

“Oh, I need you.” you whimpered, bringing Joel’s hands to your breasts and letting him feel the hard pebbles of your nipples under your t-shirt.

Growing impatient, Joel tugged on your shirt and you let him pull it off your body. He then smoothly unclipped your bra and let it fall off, before using his large, rough hands to cup and fondle your breasts.

“Joel,” you gasped, pushing back onto his legs and taking the hem off his jeans in your grip. “I need you,” you repeated. “Need you inside of me.”

Joel choked out a wanton groan at your words and nodded his head again. You took his signal as confirmation that he wanted this too, and tugged down his denim along with his underwear.

You removed your own pants and then sunk down ontop of him, sighing an air of relief when you felt the skin on skin contact. Joel adjusted himself and gave you a questioning look.

“I’m ready.” you whispered and leaned down, pressing your chest against Joel’s. Joel pushed himself inside of you and you tensed up, digging your nails into his shoulders as you adjusted to him. He was so big and thick, and yet he felt like he fit inside you perfectly. Like he was made for you.

Joel slowly thrusted upwards and into you, stretching you out. When you felt comfortable enough, you sat upright and rested your hands on his tummy.

“Show me how to ride, cowboy,” You urged. “You said earlier, it’s all in the hips? Show me.”

Joel looked up at you with wide eyes and extended his arms around you. He held onto you, and you felt like putty under his grip.

“Show me what you got, girl.” The handsome man demanded, his voice having dropped an octave.

You began to roll your hips over him, and Joel squeezed his eyes shut. “That feel good for you?” you taunted, letting a giggle escape your lips. Joel wordlessly nodded.

“Try— try circle your hips.” Joel requested, and immediately you changed your movements. You’d do anything to please him. You felt yourself get increasingly wet, making it easier and more comfortable to move freely. “That’s good.” he praised under his breaths.

“This is how you ride?” you enquired, raising an eyebrow as you continued to circle your hips.

“This is how you learn,” Joel corrected. “It’s all a process, baby girl. You go straight into the ridin’, you’ll get hurt.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed himself into you, the curve of his cock hitting you in just the right spot, You held onto him, gripping onto the broad of his back and this time, Joel kissed you. He yearned for your lips— for your affection. He dragged his tongue along your collarbone and planted sloppy kisses up your neck, along your jaw, and finally to your mouth. He slid his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entry, which you quickly granted him, and started to make out with you.

“Joel,” you whispered against his lips, and he pulled off you, allowing you to speak. “I need more.”

“Think you’re ready for your next lesson?” he quizzed, pressing his nose against yours.

“Mhm.” you replied. “Teach me.”

Joel leaned back again and brought his hands down to your hips. “I want you to bounce on my cock sweet girl, show me what you can do.”

You grinned with excitement and began to move yourself up and down, grinding on his cock so you could feel every ridge and vein against your walls.

You felt yourself clench around him, indicating that you were close.

“Shit, like this I won’t last long.” Joel admitted bashfully, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Me neither,” you replied, and began to speed up your movements. “Joel— please. Please cum inside of me.”

Joel panted, bringing his hands up to massage your tits. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, oh— please.” you begged him. “Please cowboy.”

With those two words, Joel spurted ropes of his warm seed inside of you, painting your walls a milky white. Feeling him fill you, you clenched one last time around his cock and let a blinding hot light envelope you as you rode out your own high.

You rolled off the man and laid next to him, catching your breath. “How was that? Did I pass the test?” you nudged him playfully.

Joel let out a laugh and you felt your heart flutter at the sound of him displaying genuine happiness. “You passed the test,” he chuckled. “But— there’s still plenty more for you to learn.”

“Well,” you shrugged. “You do make a pretty good teacher.”

Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his chest. “Sun will rise in a few hours, you should go back to sleep.” he hummed into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, still in sheer bliss, and smiled.

You couldn’t believe that just a few hours earlier, you were so sure that Joel hated you.

You’d never been so wrong.

——— Taglist: ———

(I’m working on rebuilding a brand new taglist ever since returning to Tumblr. Let me know if you want to be added!)

@pedrosprincess

[buddiedreams]

falling together | 1.8k, buddie

read here on AO3

rating: general tags: Falling In Love, Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Eddie Diaz Loves Evan "Buck" Buckley, Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley Loves Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley is Christopher Diaz's Parent, Accidental Relationship

They never even get together, is the thing. Not officially, anyway. Chris came back from Texas three weeks after Tommy dumped him, and a week after that, he found out that his building was being sold and converted into condos, which he definitely couldn’t afford, even if he wanted to (which he didn’t; the loft had always been more of a place to crash than his actual home). He’d bitched about the situation to Eddie that Friday night, after Chris had already ditched them to play online video games with his friends. Eddie had frowned and suggested that Buck crash with them while he was looking for a new apartment and… well. Buck is only a man. He’d agreed almost immediately, even if it meant sleeping on Eddie’s way too small couch for the foreseeable future. 

In his defense, he did look for an apartment. He looked for three months for anything even slightly habitable, but with the housing market stupidly inflated and Buck living off the salary of a public servant, there was basically nothing that was available, unless he wanted roaches. Or a studio apartment, which he was vehemently against. He was an adult, he deserved an actual bedroom. Sue him. 

And anyway, it wasn’t like Eddie and Chris were trying to kick him out. Actually, it felt like the opposite, most of the time. He and Eddie split the housework, he took over cooking and Eddie took dishes, and it actually worked so seamlessly that Buck was a little shocked. Obviously, he and Eddie are a well-oiled machine at work, but it was good to know that extended to domestic life too. And it was nice to consistently have other people to try his recipes on. He and Eddie ended up carpooling more often than not, which meant he got to tag along when Eddie picked Chris up after school, and Buck… well, Chris is his favorite Diaz, he can’t be blamed if he wants to spend as much time as possible with the kid, especially since he’s getting old enough to realize that hanging out with his—with him and Eddie wasn’t exactly cool, when he had friends to talk to and video games to play. 

And honestly… it was kind of nice to be around people whenever he wanted. Eddie and Chris are his favorite people, so it’s not exactly a hardship to be around them, and it was especially nice after a rough shift. Before, he’d go back to his loft alone and try to sleep away the crawling of his skin caused by a bad shift, and especially by a loss on the job. After basically moving in with the Diaz boys, though, he gets to see his favorite kid and give him a good squeeze. Chris seems to be able to tell when they’ve had a bad shift, and lets them be a bit clingier than he normally would. Plus, he’s got Eddie to lean on, since they’re usually going through the same thing. It’s… it’s nice. 

He’s been there six months when Eddie nervously comes out to him over the lunch they’re sharing at the kitchen table. Buck really hadn’t seen that one coming, and it makes something odd happen in his stomach, but he grins and reaches over to squeeze Eddie’s hand, telling him how proud of him he is and how honored he is to know. Eddie visibly deflates and shoots him an exhausted grin, squeezing Buck’s hand back. 

They don’t talk about it, but there’s a shift after that day. Eddie is more open about the discovery process that led to his coming out, and how he’d been to see Bobby’s priest, who had actually managed to help him. It seemed like a weight was lifted off his shoulders once he’d come out to Buck, and a warmth Buck wasn’t very familiar with settled into his bones.

They still don’t talk about it, even after the admission leads to more casual touching between them. Buck’s always craved physical affection, and Eddie idly admits that he’s trying to get better at expressing his affection with people other than Chris, and he’s still uncomfortable doing it with words. And it’s not like Buck is going to stop him. His skin always feels so tingly and flushed after Eddie’s hand touches it, always leaving a pleased smile on his lips. 

They don’t talk about it when the casual touches turn to less and less personal space. When he slips behind Eddie to show him the proper way to chop an onion, or how to flambé safely (thank you, Bobby). Or when Eddie says one day that it’s stupid for Buck to keep sleeping on the couch if he’s going to keep staying here, that Eddie has a perfectly good bed and it’s not like they haven’t slept in the same bed before, more than once. 

They don’t talk about it when sharing Eddie’s bed leads to spending far too long whispering to each other in the safe darkness of the room, admitting all their deepest fears and, even scarier, their deepest wants. Buck admits, for the first time out loud, that all he wants is to feel like he belongs to someone. Maddie has Chimney, Hen has Karen, Bobby has Athena. And Buck longs for that, longs for a relationship like that. For someone to have his back. For someone to truly be his partner.

They don’t talk about it when Buck realizes that he’s in love with his best friend, and even scarier, that he has been for god only knows how long. That’s not something he can voice, even in the darkness of their bedroom (because it is their bedroom, Buck’s been sleeping there for two months by this point, his clothes are taking up half the closet, and Eddie’s sleeping in one of his old LAFD shirts). But god does he long to. He wants nothing more than to close the small distance between them and wrap his arms around Eddie, never let go, but it’s not his place. He’s not going to fuck up the one healthy relationship he’s had in his life, not for anything.

They don’t talk about it when the late-night talks turn to what can only be described as cuddling. But again, Buck’s never been one to turn down physical affection, and Eddie’s not complaining. In fact, Eddie is the one that’s more often than not seeking Buck out, pulling his arm over Eddie’s torso as they’re falling asleep.

They don’t talk about it when the flirting starts. They’d spent a rare Friday night off out with their coworkers, getting stupidly drunk and catching up on all the things going on in everyone’s lives. Maddie and Chimney are out for the first time since Kevin Daniel Han was born, and they both look exhausted but so stupidly happy that Buck can’t help but think about Eddie and Chris, and how adorable Eddie is with his son. He doesn’t even realize he’s said as much out loud until Eddie’s cheeks turn a cute rosy color, and it takes all the strength in Buck’s body to keep from leaning over and kissing the spots. That seems to open a dam, though, because after that he and Eddie are trading sincere compliments back and forth whenever they think of them, which quickly devolves into funny pick-up lines when they’ve run out of compliments. The pick-up lines keep going for weeks, until one day, hands still wet from doing the dishes, Eddie grabs the front of his shirt and kisses him. 

They still don’t talk about it, but… nothing has really changed. They keep kissing (which Buck can honestly say is his absolute favorite thing in the world, he’d like nothing more than to die happily with Eddie’s lips on his) and trading flirtatious jokes and compliments. They don’t even talk about it when the kissing inevitably leads to sex. It seems silly, but Buck doesn’t even think they need to. He’s known how to read Eddie like a book for over eight years at this point, he knows they’re on the same page of the exact same book. 

They don’t even really talk about it when they get engaged. They’d had a bad shift and Buck had admitted in the darkness that he feels like Chris is his son. Eddie had smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, softly admitting that Chris had been his son at least since the well, and then quietly asking if Buck would consider adopting him. Buck had failed spectacularly at choking back the tears the question had prompted, but Eddie had just smiled and brushed them away. Buck agreed (obviously, he’s not an idiot) and Eddie offhandedly mentioned that it would be easier to do if they were married, before pulling Buck’s arm around him and promptly falling asleep, like he hadn’t just chucked a grenade into the middle of their bed. Buck spends a majority of the night staring into the darkness, absolutely dumbfounded. He’s not even mad when Eddie and Chris wake him at lunch time and present him with a ring, which he eagerly accepts.

That’s what breaks the streak, in fact. That night, when they’re laying in bed, Eddie finally addresses whatever they’ve been dancing around for the first time. 

“I know we haven’t really talked about this, about us,” he whispers, shifting around to face Buck, “but is it… you’re okay with it? With this, with me and Chris being who you belong to?”

Buck swallows against the sudden rush of emotion that tears through him at Eddie referencing one of the first midnight chats they’d had. And any other time, any other relationship, maybe he’d be anxious about how little they’ve faced what they are, how they’ve barely addressed it with their loved ones but really… nothing has changed. At least, nothing important. Sure, he’s allowed to kiss Eddie now, and have sex with him, but other than that, their relationship is the same as it’s always been. They’re best friends. 

“I… I don’t think I realized it when I said it originally, but I think I was just waiting for this. For you. Both of you, but mostly just waiting until you were ready, I guess,” he whispers back, smiling when Eddie’s fingers thread through his own. “Besides, I’ve really always belonged to you and Chris, if we’re being honest. It’s why none of my relationships ever worked. I was trying to fill a role that was already occupied,” he admits, bringing their hands up to press a kiss to the back of Eddie’s hand. “It sorta feels like this was inevitable. Does that… make sense?”

He can’t see it, given the darkness currently surrounding them, but he can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice. “The inevitability of us just… falling together like we have? Yeah, Buck, honestly? That makes more sense than anything else in my life ever has.”

[sammyunhinged]

I grew up in South Carolina, in a deep red county of Southern Appalachia. I live in the Boston area now for school and the number of people I talk to and witness who cannot comprehend their privilege—the privilege of simply being born in a northern state—is astounding to me.

The southern states are consistently ranked in the bottom in terms of education, minimum wage, and personal freedom. They are consistently at the top for rates of teen pregnancy, incarceration, poverty, child mortality, and STI (STD) diagnoses.

The conservative, republican policies in place are directly linked to all of these things. In the South we cannot afford to vote third party because our rights our on the line. Our state officials gerrymander to strip rights from black Americans. They incarcerate at mass levels to strip rights from the poor and non-white. They pass laws to take health and freedoms away from women, especially poor women. They refuse to raise minimum wage or give out more aid in order to help people live above the poverty line. They pass laws that make gender affirming care illegal for minors. They ban the discussion of queer identities from the classroom. Even more is at stake this election because of Project 2025. The federal government under Trump would strip away more of those rights and supports state level laws like the ones I mentioned above.

My state will not go blue this election. I don’t know if it will go blue in my lifetime, but my border states have and can again. Those in Georgia and North Carolina need to feel empowered to vote! My birth state of Texas absolutely could. Get out and vote! However, the rights of the people in conservative states rely on people in other states not voting third party.

My rights, my family and my friends rights, the rights of my high-school classmate and the rights of my four year old niece are all on the line. This election is personal to me. It should be personal to you.

[goatpaste]

Alrighty, this has been something I'v been putting off for awhile because I really just wanted to save all the money myself but I just dont think its gonna be able to happen anytime soon and I'm tired of putting it off for Daisy's sake

but this is officially the Donation Post for us to start pooling together money to move daisy up from Texas to Pennsylvania. I'll bore you with the details under the cut but in the mean time here is links and info on the ways you can support the move!

[My commissions are Open] [My Etsy is Open]

[My Kofi were i offer PWYW commissions as low at 3$]

[My Toyhouse has designs for sale on it]

[You can Donate here and all the saving made toward this will be going directly into savings]

These are all the ways you can directly support us and help us work toward the goal of getting Daisy into a safe and better environment! I know not everyone is going to be able to chip in but anything helps even reblogs and sharing around! We've been talking about this move for over a year and I want to try and move her by the end of this year at the latest.

For more info on our specific situation and bit more details, please read under the cut

Daisy has been my friend since we were 6 years old, she is like a sister to me! We've been at each others side through thick and thin and I care about her so much.

Daisy's home life has never been the best and her parents are nightmare people who are a blight on the general public but as well as Daisy's home life.

Daisy doesnt have the ability to drive, work or save her own money even when she did work as her mother would take the money she earned constantly, and was ultimately the reason Daisy was unable to keep her job.

So for Daisy's end she has no ability to save and moving funds, it will primarily be on me to round up the money.

We are not 100% sure how much we are going to need at this moment in time but have a rough estiment.

Were hoping to get Daisy's mother on a good mood and have her pay for Daisy's plane ticket. We are going to be unable to move all her stuff and will just have to pack as much as she can into a large suitcase and fly up. So we will not have to pay for the plane, but will have to pay for bedding, and everything else she will need once up here. we have some temporary arrangements Via my bed and couch and potentially picking up a blow up mattress. But my current apartment is extremely small and not much room for two people let alone just me. Not sure how long I will be in this space while Daisy is up here if at all.

I may potentially reach out to my step father and ask him to dip into the savings he has kept for me to get Daisy furniture and necessities. But im avoiding that for as much as i can as im not on the best terms with my dad.

I will start looking for a bigger place for us to live together once we start getting in a comfortable area on savings. As the only money maker currently i will be needing savings to afford a place for us to share that will of course be much more expensive than where i am right now. Daisy will start looking for a job once she is/has moved up here and hopefully we will be able to support ourselves at that point, it will just be the first little bit of time we will need a cushion.

this is one of the areas im not 100% sure how much were going to need but certain in the thousands area knowing rent for a place big enough for two individuals.

after that its just gonna be us figuring it out.

but this is the situation as it stands right now, we are trying to help a trans woman out of her shitty living situation and across the country where her friends who love and care and want to support her are. We dont know exactly how much its going to be, but its going to be a lot and were really just looking for a bit of support!

thank yall so much!

[clowningaroundmars]

aromantic mike chilton for @aggressivelyarospec week!!!! :D

accompanying story under the cut!

It didn't work out with Julie.

They had broken up and decided it would be best to stay friends. After all, with Mike... nothing really changed at all. Like... nothing.

And that was kinda the problem.

Julie didn't think herself to be too judgmental of a person, not after everything everyone's been through. She and the Burners worked hard, played hard, and succeeded together (oftentimes against all odds).

They slept in cuddle piles after dinner some nights whenever Julie could slip away for more than a day without arousing her dad's suspicions. They passed bongs around for a lung-hacking hit or two, went skinny-dipping in the lake at night, patched up each other's bloody wounds countless times.

And then somewhere down the line, Julie fell in love with Mike.

She had no idea when exactly, since she doesn't really do feelings like that, can't afford to with a life like hers. But it happened... somehow.

Julie couldn't quite place exactly what it was that initially drew her to him, especially at first. Sure, the guy was friendly, decisive, assertive without being too overbearing, and unbearably charming. But.

It was the charm that caught poor Julie totally off-guard, really. She'd often hear her father ranting and raving about his golden-prodigal-son-turned-traitor, and his ID photo in his file wasn't really much to look at, either. Julie would never admit it out loud, but she had snuck down to Motorcity for the first time ever with low expectations.

Later, she came back up to her pod in Deluxe with stars in her eyes.

But she wasn't in love with him then, no. She knew this because she was pretty sure her constant Mike Thoughts did not manifest until after the kids all went to Antonio's together for the first time.

It was summertime, around nine months after the group was (un)officially formed. The heat had Mike shirking his jacket and leaving it in Mutt, and his old t-shirt was getting a tad bit tight after all the exercise he was getting around the hideout, especially after Texas moved his workout gear in and Mike took him up on his offer for semi-regular sparring sessions.

And boy, did that Mike fella fill out. Mhmm.

Even Julie-- a girl who was mostly blind to typical male affections directed at her in school-- had to admit to herself that when Mike put on a little more weight in the right places, when his biceps bulged a bit as he flexed an arm and his shoulders got a bit wider... it took a lot more effort to wrench her studious gaze away.

Geez Louise.

Before long, she was doodling their initials and combining both of their names in her little sketchpad. Gag. Gross.

But Mike never seemed to pay attention to her the same way in return. She didn't catch him looking away from her at inopportune times, and he'd never lay a single hand on her aside from a typical friendly pat on the shoulder, or a comfortable lean on an arm while the Burners all lounged around during movie nights. Hell, he seemed more affectionate with his best friend Chuck than he was with her most times.

So she kept her thoughts to herself. Easy peasy. She kept secrets from her dad, from her friends, and now from Mike. Like everything else, she created a neat, separate file in her head and tucked that little secret away. She managed to conceal it for long enough.

Until it became too big to ignore.

And then it happened.

And it really just... happened. Julie hardly registered herself even doing it.

It happened like this: Mike had rescued Julie from certain death at the lake after she crashed an out-of-control 9 Lives out through the barricades and into the water, and they were panting and coughing up water on the sand after Mike succeeded in dragging her out. Dutch and Texas were busy racing around and distracting the Kanebots, luring them all away from the pair.

Julie didn't say anything. Neither of them did. Julie just... surged forward when she blinked the water out of her eyes and saw him, his angelic face hovering mere inches away from hers. She remembered the dewey drops on his long lashes and the warmth of his lips more than anything else.

And then she's pretty sure she blacked out afterwards because the next thing she remembers, she's waking up on the couch wrapped in blankets and towels, wearing Chuck's hoodie.

She doesn't ask anyone why Chuck opted to be the guy to lend his clothes to her.

(It wasn't Chuck who lent it to her though.)

After Jacob makes sure she has a steaming mug of soup in her hands and is generally fussed over enough, he bids her a goodnight and leaves a big holoscreen playing old-timey anime shows for her.

Shortly afterwards, Mike slips into the room on feet far too quiet for a rowdy teenage boy like him. Julie almost misses his entry and startles when she notices him casually leaning on a wall over to her right, almost blending in against the garish grafitti and street signs.

They sat down and spoke quietly, privately.

Julie appreciated that Mike had enough tact and forethought not to confront her in front of all of the guys. Thank god. Julie wouldn't even know how to handle the endless teasing that would inevitably assault her from all angles if they ever even suspected that she had a crush on Mike.

And how embarrassing, really! The only girl on the team falling for the charming and roguish leader of a group of rebels. Double gag.

It was by some miracle that no one ever suspected Julie's true feelings, and that the actual love interest found out before anyone else did. Lucky her!

And incredibly, Mike shared her feelings too! Who would've thought it! Definitely not Julie, that's for sure.

Mike hadn't even seemed to glance her way at all in all the time they had known each other. He always maintained the same level of friendliness with her as he did with the other guys. But he confessed then that he knew Julie was special, and that their bond that grew in the time they had known each other was special, too.

Wow. Look at them, both hiding their feelings so well! It's like they were meant to be.

So they agreed to go steady.

Eventually, they told the rest of the Burners. Well, it really was just that it was kinda hard for them to ignore when Julie would sneak her index finger over to Mike's hand and hook it onto his pinkie as they walked back to their cars after a quick errand run for the Skylarks or an easy mission.

So they decided to make the announcement at Antonio's, which Julie thought was perfectly poetic. It was where she first fell in love with Mike, and now here they were a year and a half later, making it official.

They didn't expect the other guys' reactions, though. The Burners received the news... lukewarmly.

"You guys were in love?" Texas spewed bits of pizza all over the table as he chewed with his mouth open. Ugh. Typical Texas.

"Oh! Wow... uhm. Congrats, guys." Chuck seemed to hide behind his hair even more as his shoulders hiked up in a nonchalant shrug.

Dutch rubbed his chin. "...Yeah. Uh, yeah...? Cool. Congrats, you two."

And then silence fell over the table.

"Is... is there a problem with this, or?" Julie dared to press.

Everyone silently exchanged glances.

Mike-- bless his heart-- misread the situation and clasped his hands together on the table.

"Guys, look," he started, "this isn't gonna change anything about the team. We're still gonna be friends, I’m not prioritizing Julie over anyone else on missions. It's just... we're gonna... we're gonna be the Burners, except I’m dating Jules now! That's all!"

Mike smiled warmly at all his friends. Chuck chewed on his lip.

Dutch bobbed his head thoughtfully. Then, after a while, he said "nah, yeah. We figured. I mean, you're a pretty great guy so it's not like we thought you were gonna up and abandon us or anything. It's just that... uh. So when did this uhhh, yanno, this whole thing start?"

Julie blinked.

Mike cocked his head. "Start?" He asked.

"Y'know, like when did y'all start liking each other? Because uh, no offense, but this is kinda comin' out of the blue for us. Literally nobody thought this was gonna be a thing. Tell us some stories!"

Mike blew out a breath and leaned back in the booth. Julie smiled.

"Weeeellll," Julie squinted with excitement and then let the cat out of the bag.

She told them all about it, how in this very same booth she watched as Mike's t-shirt stretched over his muscles all those months ago and how his smile seemed to shine brighter than the diner's neon signs. Then about how she leaned against Mike's broad chest after agonizing for hours over not being able to free him from her father's maximum-security prison that one time. About all the dreams she'd have of them together, the intimate late-night talks they'd have while having a couple of drinks on the rooftop of some abandoned building. How she loved his bright eyes and strong hands...

When she finished, she had a dreamy kind of look all over her face. Mike had a brow quirked, but he smiled back at her all the same.

Everyone exchanged glances again.

"So Mike. Was it like that for you?" Chuck asked eventually. It had a strange sort of lilt to it, like he was in on an inside joke that Julie wasn't.

She bristled a bit.

"Oh! Uh." Mike glanced around quickly. "Not... really? But Julie's super pretty, so when she confessed to me, I was pretty stoked."

Mike grinned like a goofball. Julie grinned like a goofball. The rest of the Burners looked skeptical.

"Hm. Cool! Well, great." Chuck turned back to his loaded pizza slice.

And just like that, things mostly went back to normal.

And, uh... Mike was right, this... really wasn't changing anything between them and the Burners. Like at all.

A small part of Julie was kind of hurt by it, but she tried to wave the feeling away. It was nonsense, and she should be happy. Mike loved her! He just wasn't a romantic type, that's all. He loved his friends, loved being a Burner... it was fine.

Right?

It was normal for her to have to remind Mike every now and then to go out on a date with her. He's a busy guy, and this was his first relationship. Julie just had to be patient.

Patient... patient. Yeah. She could be patient.

It was when Chuck joined them for their sixth "movie date" in a row that the patience was starting to run a bit thin, though.

Chuck and Mike settled side-by-side on the communal couch, swapping snacks as easily as breathing and nursing a popcorn bowl between them. Mike hooked an arm over Julie's shoulder though, so Julie said nothing.

It was a couple of months later when Mike makes a quiet confession to her as they laid together in his pristine bed one night.

"I don't really like kissing all that much," he mumbles, face half-buried into his pillows. "But I like holding you. Is that okay?"

Julie's heart sinks into the covers. But she nods anyways. "Yeah. That's okay."

"Really? Do ya mean it? It's not weird or anything, right? We can still be together but not kiss. Maybe I can give you forehead kisses instead?"

Julie sighed softly. "Mmnyeah, that's fine."

"It's not you, it's me, Jules. I just--"

"Mike. Trust me, I get it. It's okay, seriously."

Mike gave her a grateful smile back.

Damnit. Well.

Anyways, life continued on. Julie resigned herself to accepting the fact that her boyfriend was just simply a guy's guy.

Julie liked cars but Mike was all over Mutt. Loved the damn thing more than he loved her, honestly. She loved being a Burner, but it seemed like it was Mike's purpose, like he was more devoted to the city under the dome than he was to his girlfriend. And above all, Mike loved the Burners. All of them. He spent a bit more time with Chuck than he did with anyone else in the team, but he was always there for everyone just as passionately.

Which was. Fine.

Freeing Motorcity from her father's reign of terror was indeed way more important than holding hands with a cute boy!

Duh, of course, stupid Julie.

Whatever.

When they inevitably broke up, it blindsided Mike. He thought they were the best of buds! The bestest of buds-- aside from him and Chuck, of course! But while he loved Chuck fiercely, his love for Julie was... different. Fierce but different. He could never describe it in words but he knew what he was feeling was real.

He loved Julie! So when she suddenly broke up with him, it was like getting hit with a sack of flour out of nowhere.

They were leaned up against Mutt's hood on a cliff overlooking Lake Erie when Julie finally broke the news. They were casually smoking a cigarette, passing it back and forth. Mike's idea of a "date." Anyways.

"I can't really keep doing this, Mike." Julie sighed out a cloud of smoke. She said it so matter-of-factly, as casually as if she were simply commenting on the weather.

Mike whipped round to look at her. "Keep doing what?"

"This," Julie threw her hands up and tucked them into her vest pockets after handing Mike the cigarette back. "This... 'relationship'. It's not working out."

"What... whaddya mean? We just started dating, it's kinda too early to tell--"

"No, Mike." Julie interrupted loudly. Her eyes were avoiding Mike's face carefully. "No... it's not. We've been together for months and we have never moved on from our friendship. You... just admit it, dude. You're just not into me."

Mike pushed himself off of Mutt and placed his hands on both of her shoulders, forcing them to stand face-to-face. "Julie, look at me." He had his jaw set.

Julie swallowed as she peered up at him from her bangs.

"I love you more than you can ever know. I know I’m messing up, but... but I’m trying, okay? Just give us one more chance, Jules. I can make it right, I know it!"

Julie took a step back, wrinkling her nose. "Mike! Just give it up, okay? I know you don't feel the same about me as I do about you," she pleaded, mortified. "It's okay! It's fine! We can just move on and let it go!"

"B-but it's not! No, Julie c'mon, bro--"

"Bro?!" Julie exploded, hands in the air now. "Are you hearing yourself right now? Am I your girlfriend, or your bro?"

Mike gaped at her like a fish, mouth opening just to close again. Then, he hunched his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets.

He kicked a couple of rocks off the cliff, watching the pebbles scatter and plummet dozens of feet below.

Then he ran his hands through his hair, a nervous habit of his, before returning back to Julie.

He exhaled loudly. "What... what's the difference? You... isn't that what dating is all about? Being best friends with your partner?"

Julie glared at him. "Yes! And it's also about being more than that, too!"

Mike scoffed. "More than friends? What does that even mean? Nothing is more important than friendship, Jules. Not in Motorcity."

"Nothing is more important than friendship?! Mike--" Here, Julie took a step back to pinch her nose and exhale. "Look. When I confessed my feelings to you for the first time, what were you feeling?"

"What was I feeling? Uh, I dunno, happiness I guess? What, did you want me to say that I didn't care? I care about your feelings, Julie! I do!"

"So you started dating me because you didn't want to hurt my feelings?!" Julie shouted.

"Where are you getting that from?!" Mike shouted back.

"Mike! You are just not into me! I can just tell! It's okay! W-we can just be friends, like how we used to be. I don't even know why you're fighting me so hard on this, I'm the one breaking up with you. You can't change my mind!"

"Right," Mike huffed, "because you don't love me anymore. No, I get it. It's fine."

They glared at each other for a beat.

Then, Julie shoved her hands back into her vest pockets. "No, Mike. I do love you. I just think..." she sighed, all the wind in her sails blowing away, "I just think it's best for us to go our own separate ways."

Mike startled. "Wait, what? Jules... are you...? You're not leaving the Burners, are you?"

"No, I'm not leaving the Burners." Julie says through clenched teeth. "I'm just gonna take a quick break and then when I come back? We're gonna be just friends again, Mike. Alright?"

Mike inhales deeply, his own anger trickling out of him like water as well. "... Fine. Fine, yeah. Whatever you want, Julie." He hangs his head.

They then stare off into the horizon together, watching the twinkling star-like pinpoints of light on the underside of the dome. Watching as the lake's waters undulate and shimmer in the darkness of the cool evening, a gigantic dark mirror reflecting the pinpoints back to the ceiling.

Mike idly scuffs his boot on the ground again, putting out their shared cigarette. In a sad sort of way, the dying ember of the smoldering stick being stomped out into rocks and gravel was a lot like their relationship: dead and done. And of course it had to be Mike to put them both out, huh. Right.

Real poetic.

Julie turns around wordlessly, climbs into Mutt and sits in Chuck's seat.

Time to go.

After a few seconds Mike nods once, fixes his collar and slides into his own seat.

The ride back up to Deluxe is quiet.

It was a couple years later when the kids were a bit older --but not that much older at the same time-- that they all filed past the doors of Antonio's and slid right into their usual booth.

Except this time, it had been a long while since they had the time to relax like this. These days, Kane's attacks were getting more and more savage, brutal... and cunning.

Kane's latest attempt at a hostile takeover of Motorcity involved way too many sneaky double-crossing spies all trying to break the Burners up and weaken the city's best defense. Sneaky bastard, that Abraham Kane.

But they thwarted him yet again, despite it all. They beat the bad guys, restored peace back amongst the gangs and the civilians, and saved the day.

It had taken weeks this time, but they succeeded.

So now to celebrate, they're placing their orders for the greasiest, most heart-clogging fast food on the menu and sitting back to happily sip at their drinks. They're finally enjoying their time together again, and Mike is especially pleased that everyone made it out alive.

Sitting elbow-to-elbow with his bestest friends in the world, Mike takes advantage of a lull in the conversation to clap his hands together and get everyone's attention.

"Okay, guys!" He announces. "So, I'm pretty sure we're all kinda fried after... y'know, everything. Everyone's probably too tired to care about what I'm going to say next! So... confession time."

"Hmhmm! Spill, then," Chuck smirks, his chin in his cyborg hand. It was a recent upgrade to his prosthetic, and it shone a beautiful silvery-blue under the diner lights.

Mike chuckles nervously. "Uh, I... I think that... I figured out that I can't fall in love!"

Everyone stares at him.

Chuck casually slurps his milkshake through a straw.

Dutch turns to him then. "Wait. You knew?"

Chuck sits up. "Uhh hahaha, whoa. Where'd that come from? You psychic or somethin'?" He deflects awkwardly.

"You're clearly not surprised," Dutch points out.

"Pfft yeah I'm not surprised. Who's been Mike's best friend since, like, kindergarten again?"

"Ah. And ya didn't think to let me know anything back when we were dating? Sure would've saved us a lot of time," Julie quipped drily.

Chuck holds his mismatched hands up. "Now hold on a minute! I didn't know back then, obviously. Besides, you two dated years ago for like... three seconds!"

"Two years ago, smartass," Julie snips back.

Mike clears his throat conspicuously. "Guys! Guys, no need to fight over me," he jokes awkwardly, "because I, uhm, I've decided I don't belong to anybody! I'm just me, and I'm not dating anyone. Like, ever."

Everyone turns back to him again.

With four pairs of eyes on him, Mike draws in on himself a bit as he continues. "Yeah, it's. It's something that I've been kinda discovering about myself and I'm still... exploring it. But I'm pretty sure I've never had a crush in my life. I was just walking through life distracted by everything else for so long that I never noticed it, but... yeah. I've just. I've just never felt love for anyone else before, I guess."

"Which is fine," Chuck blurts out suddenly. "It's... it's fine! That Mike's never fallen in love with anyone. It happens. Some people just don't experience a common thing most people do... like romance, or sex. Yeah! Totally normal!"

Dutch smirks at Chuck. "You too, then? You a non-romantic as well?"

Chuck shakes his head so hard his bangs swing. "No! Nuh uh, I'm a lover, not a fighter. I'm definitely a romantic!"

"Why so nervous all of a sudden, then?"

"Because," Chuck replies, "because... it's fine! To not ever fall in love or like... date, or kiss or have sex or whatever. We're in Motorcity now, and we can get to do whatever we want. And if we don't wanna date, then we don't have to!" Then he clamps his mouth shut.

Mike perks up then. "That's right! And ah, yeah! Speaking of, Chuckles... lemme tell ya, I really gotta hand it to ya. If it weren't for you, I'd've never figured this one out. So, thanks, buddy! As always, you really had my back on this one."

Chuck and Mike smile at each other and Texas raises a brow.

"Huh?" Texas says. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

Chuck titters nervously as Mike pulls up a screen and opens up a forum.

"It means that Chuckles here helped me find a site that explained everything I was experiencing! Or... not experiencing, really."

Chuck clears his throat, clearly relieved. "Uh, yeah! Well, after Mike's like, 10th girlfriend that one time he couldn't stop bringing people back home, he came to me all frustrated and stuff and... well, we went off to find my friends in the LARPing arena to see if anyone had any idea why he was burning through dates like Mutt burns through tires. And so someone suggested he might be aromantic, and uh... well, the rest is history!"

Dutch and Julie hummed in acknowledgement.

Everyone knew what that was like, how weird it was that Golden Child Mike all of sudden started bringing people home from parties and bars shortly after his breakup with Julie. Sometimes he even had two people on his arms, some men, some women. Never the same person after two or three times, though.

They were all perplexed when they first heard laughing and chattering behind Mike's bedroom door. Once the moaning started, though... well! Everyone poked fun at him the mornings after and teased him to varying degrees, but things were mostly chill in the beginning.

Everyone remembered Mike's frustrations after a while, though. How he could never quite land a steady relationship-- no matter how hard he tried, with whoever. It got to the point where the Burners stopped their teasing and became quite concerned after Mike introduced his 5th girlfriend in the span of like... 6 months, once upon a time.

It was shortly after his final breakup that Mike flopped down onto his best friend's messy bed one evening and finally had The Conversation.

It went well, all things considered. Chuck, patient as ever, listened to his friend and then when he couldn't offer any solid advice, he offered a distraction. The LARPing arena proved to be much better help than they could ever hope for.

Ever since then, Mike's been up late into the night often, completely engrossed in all things aromantic. He wanted to learn more about it, yearned for a community that knew exactly what he was feeling; so he stayed awake just swiping through sites and PDFs on his holoscreens, eating every bit of information up.

Now, it looked like Mike was at peace with himself and his station in life after all this time. That was a relief!

"Aromantic! That's it! Look at this, guys." Here, Mike grins and pulls up a photo of a striped flag. "This is the community flag. Look familiar?"

The colors of the flag had two shades of green at the top that then cascaded into white, then grey and then black.

Texas leaned forward. "It looks like Mutt!" He practically shouts.

Everyone laughs.

"Yeah, that sure is a you flag if I've ever seen one," Julie quips.

"Right? Like it was meant to be! So I guess I'm part of this community, then. I mean, this really is a kickass flag..."

"But what does that mean, though? That you can never fall in love with anyone, ever?" Julie asks.

Mike closes his screens and clasps his hands on the table, exhaling a bit. "Uhh, well? Well, yeah! I can't ever fall in love... but it doesn't feel that way to me! Ugh, I'm probably gonna do such a bad job explaining this," he laughs self-consciously.

"It's okay, dude. Take your time," Dutch smiles warmly.

Mike shoots him a grateful smile back. "... It... it's like. Well? It's like... I've never felt butterflies in my stomach before, so I have no idea what that's like. But I like you guys, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. I love hanging out with you all even though I don't think about any of you guys like that. I love making friends-- like true friends-- and I can't stop thinking about how happy hanging out with people makes me. I guess I'm just way more platonic than romantic, because I am just... so bad at love! God, I've never had so much trouble with anything in my life before like I have with romance," he groans, grimacing.

"And when Mike Fucking Chilton says that, that's how you know he's struggling!" Dutch puts in.

Everyone giggles.

"Wow," Julie gives Mike a side-long glance. "Finally. Something that The Great Mike Chilton is bad at! We've finally got him, boys."

Texas leaps out of his seat and enthusiastically karate-chops the air. "Hoo-WAH!!! Finally! Something I got over on ya, Mike. Texas is better at romancing than you!"

Julie rolls her eyes.

Mike guffaws. "Psshhwhat? C'mon guys, I'm bad at plenty of stuff. This isn't the first!"

"Oh yeah? Name one thing!" Dutch challenges.

"Uhhm well uh, I...? I'm pretty bad at... hm." Mike drums his fingers on the table. "I'm bad at coding! I'm not nearly as good as Chuck at the software and tech side of things!"

"But ya could be! You could totally learn how to, if you'd just sit down with me for more than 20 minutes," Chuck points out.

Mike stubbornly folds his arms across his chest. "Well, I don't wanna! What're you gonna do about it?"

And just like that, the kids all return back to normalcy, bickering and quibbling about nothing as they finally receive their food from the waitress. Soon after, Chuck and Texas are throwing pizza toppings and wadded up paper at each other and Mike is mom-ing at them to quit it before they all get kicked out.

It was as if nothing even happened.

It was simultaneously comforting and also thrilling how easily Mike was accepted back into the fold; the Burners' Heartless Leader who could never fall in love.

On the inside, Mike was deeply grateful and his heart felt full upon learning this, though. It was a nourishing feeling that his bestest friends in the whole world who worked hard, played hard, lived fast and free alongside him... they loved him and accepted him back, no matter what. It was a much nicer and fuzzier feeling than any romance-filled relationship or hookup ever gave him.

Now, the Burners are finally leaving the diner, all tipsy and giddy from their impromptu late-night happy hour session.

Mike has a casual arm slung over Chuck's shoulder as they traipse on over to Mutt. Everyone casually daps each other up and offers quick goodbyes before climbing into their respective cars.

Mike slides behind the wheel and exhales. Chuck clicks himself into his secure harness.

"Well! That went pretty well! A little too easily, honestly but," Mike breathes.

Chuck's blonde head bobs. "Well yeah, dude. Of course. What'd ya think, that'd we kick you out of the team for that?"

Mike shrugs and turns his skeleton key into Mutt's ignition, bringing her to roar awake again. "I mean... no. But, y'know. It's weird, having a leader of a gang that can't ever fall in love, right? Like some heartless freak or somethin'. I dunno," he chuckled wryly.

Chuck frowns. "Mike. You're not a freak," he says firmly.

Mike gives his best friend a sidelong glance. "Chuck..." he speaks, voice low, "it's not like that! You know what I mean... it's just that sometimes people who are different don't get treated so well all the time, yanno?"

"Yeah, sure, back up in Deluxe," Chuck argues. "But it's different down here in Motorcity. It's good here for people like us!"

Mike hums thoughtfully as he drums his fingers on the wheel. "Yeah, you're right..." then, he smirks at Chuck. "So if that's true, then why didn't you come out, back there? I actually thought you were gonna do it. It even looked like Dutch suspected something, too!"

Mike smiles at his friend, who is doing his best impression of a carseat cover now.

"Mmnyeah... yeah, I could've." Chuck gives a noncommittal shrug, hesitating.

"What's wrong?"

After a few seconds, Chuck swipes at his bangs self-consciously and clears his throat. "Uhmm well... being aromantic and never falling in love is kinda... badass, don'tcha think? But for a guy like me, never wanting to have sex and being a dope for romance is just pathetic," he laments. "If people hear that I'm asexual and that I never want to bang anyone, I'd get laughed out of the room! It's not an asexual thing, Mikey, it's a me thing."

Mike throws Mutt into reverse and backs her out of their parking spot with practiced ease.

"Chuckles. My guy. Look, who cares what other people think? If you don't wanna bone, you're just not gonna. That doesn't hurt anyone at all, so screw anyone who says anything about it. If anyone gives you a hard time, call me up and I'll spin the block for you,"

Chuck bursts into a peal of nervous giggles. "Whoa, whoa Mikey, geez! Christ, thanks, man but that's really not necessary. I appreciate you, though,"

They smile at each other again.

Then after a beat, Mike adds, "plus, if they know about aromanticism, they're gonna eventually find out about asexuality, too, dude."

Chuck laughs weakly as he clutches his arms. "O-oh...! Yeah... yeah that's tr--"

Mike suddenly slams his boot down on the gas pedal and Mutt growls as she lurches into hundred-mile-speeds from a standstill. Her tires screech loudly on the pavement and she leaves a giant plume of smoke and dirt behind as everyone careens over a drop straight onto the Deluxian Supply Pipes.

"Miiikkee-eeyyyy!!! We just ate!" Chuck screeches, horrified. He clings onto the car seat with both hands as Mike laughs.

Chuck's screams and Mike's loud, joyous shouting and whooping can be heard far and wide throughout Motorcity as they race all the way back home.

[clockways]

After undergrad, I was done living with people. People didn���t turn off alarm clocks or clean up their messes or, perhaps, people even blamed you for their mental breakdown. I had had enough of people.

But I couldn’t live alone.

Luckily, I knew the perfect solution. See, other than the semesters of undergrad, I had always lived with cats. There were also dogs and hamsters and reptiles, but cats were the constant. It was a noble line going all the way back to Yoda, whom my mother got to be her cat in college.

It was only the start of summer, and I was already surreptitiously walking past the adoption area of the pet store. It was a good thing I did.

There in the cage, the only animal in the whole adoption area, was a tiny kitten. As soon as he saw me, he started to meow and kneed and reach through the bars. It was probably as close to love at first sight as I will ever get.

After finding out when adoption was and leaving and coming back at what was the wrong time and talking to the kitten through the glass—I finally was able to hold him.

He was perfect.

This little kitten with brown so deep it was black and a white underside and a very pink nose settled right into my arms and purred up a storm. I adopted him then and there.

Depressingly, with this adoption center, the little boy had to go back to get sniped before I could take him home. I often joked that the poor guy never had a lick of testosterone in his body with how early it all happened. (That didn’t stop in from growing into quite a tall, long cat, mind you.)

While he came home without his balls, he also came home with a kitten cold. My poor little perfect boy was sick to the point that he could die. Cats, if you didn’t know, don’t eat if they can’t smell. Stinky food was bought, force feeding was attempted, and in the end it was some Vick’s in hot water that cleared his sinuses up enough to eat.

Now that he was well, it was finally time to find the right name. Name is a process in my family. In rather reverse fae rules, by giving the pets the right name, they are cemented as family. My mother even adds them to the family bible.

This boy took two tries.

His first name was Underwood as you see, once he got is energy back, he was constantly walking across my lap and the laptop that had a pretty permanent place in it. My friends swiftly got used to getting ‘kitten messages’ sent to them. Annoyingly, some of the same friends wouldn’t stop calling him Carrie, even after I asked them not to, and I decided that I wasn’t going to put up with that for the next fourteen plus years.

As he was my ‘squirmy worm’ for his lack of desire to be held and ability to pop right out of a hold due to his silky fur, I combined the two and, finally, he found his right name of Wormwood. (This also, unbeknownst at the time, started the naming convention for my next two cats.)

Wormwood and I went off to graduate school not much later. The old but passable apartment I was in had a (rather shoddily) screened in porch. It became Worm’s favorite spot to sit, even in the middle of Texas heat.

Paper balls were discovered to be his favorite thing, followed by very tiny pompoms. If I was ignoring him, he’d knock my remote off my table to play. Even with that playing, I often joked that Worm was my semi mobile throw pillow. He loved to lounge and nap to the extreme, even for a cat.

Worm never wanted other cats in his life, though he managed to accept Bugsy—my Siamese mutt—into our home in time, though Worm never ceded the foot of the bed to him. Together, we three moved back in with my parents (to total a too many five cats) until I could afford my own place. Worm had to suffer through another new brother, Beetle, about three years ago. Then not quite two years ago we moved to a new state.

All three boys did wonderful on the very long drive, and I like to think that it was worth it because of the fabulous sunroom in the new house. All of them had their favorite spots to sit out there and soak up the sun.

This winter, Worm took a turn. He dropped some weight while I was gone on a trip. I got him a heated bed that became his very favorite thing in the whole house. He would just melt into it.

Then it got worse.

I took him to the vet, and he had gone from about fifteen pounds down to five and a half. Blood work was clean though, so we increased his food and changed some things around.

Tueaday he was quite ill.

Wednesday was the first time there was a moment where he wasn’t there mentally. It felt like it was going to be time.

Thursday, today, I found him laying in a sunbeam. He didn’t even ask for food. At eleven today I took him to the vet. For about an hour before I held him, resting against my chest, and the two of us sat in the sun, listening to the birds.

I think he was ready to rest. He hardly moved at the vet during the shot and then… then he was gone.

And I had to leave him.

For sixteen years, nearly half my life, he has been my family and one of my best friends. I would have been so lost without him. I’m so sad to have to say goodbye, but I’m glad that he can rest now.

I’m glad that it was a pretty day and that we got to sit in the sun together and listen to the birds.

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

To Break Free

Summary:

After a lifetime in the big city and a brutal break up, you decided it was time for a change. Austin was everything you expected it to be; quiet, warm, and totally different from the fast paced environment you were used to, but what you hadn’t expected was the particularly handsome stranger that lived across the street to catch you in a compromising position. Although you had hoped to put the experience behind you, the spark between the two of you was hard to ignore, especially when his two teenage daughters quickly became regular guests in your home. After years of heartache, will you be able to keep a kind and devoted man like Joel Miller at arm’s length?

Warnings: NoOutbreak!Joel Miller, Sarah and Ellie as siblings, Neighbour!Joel, The Miller Girls Being wingmen, Reader is just getting over a break up, Mentions of Reader's Shitty Ex, Soft!Joel, Protective!Joel, Eventual Smut, Eventual Fluff, Angst, Eventual Romance.

A/N:

Hey y'all, my name is Em and if you haven't read anything I have posted before, welcome! <3

This fic includes NoOutbreak!Joel as a single dad to two teenage girls, living in Austin when reader moves across the street. This is going to be a fluffy fic, not necessarily a slow burn but it will have all the angst you need to yearn for the handsome Texan. Reader is in her early 30s, while Joel is in his mid 30s. She is just getting out of a marriage that was undoubtedly emotionally abusive, so there will be brief mentions of that throughout the story. I will be sure to leave a note at the beginning of the chapter in case any of you wish to avoid it. Anyways, I love writing for fun and I hope you enjoy the result of that haha. Enjoy! :)

Chapter 1/10 - More to Come!

Chapter 1: Don't Be Ridiculous

Sweat poured down your face, stinging your eyes as box after box got loaded into the bare bones of what would be your new life. This was not how you expected your thirtieth birthday to go, trying to ignore the resentment that clogged the valves of your heart as you tried not to collapse under the Texas heat. It only made you hate the man you had once called your husband all the more. Every twinge in your back from a particularly hefty box, or momentary pause to catch your breath, all brought you back to him. 

Two months ago, after an entire year of couples counseling sessions where you were forced to put on a brave face while he practically dozed off, after a year of scheduled date nights where he dragged you around the city like a some sort of prized hog, you had found him in bed with one of his research assistants. You gagged thinking about it, shaking your head as you slammed yet another unreasonably heavy box down on the living room floor. The hot shot professor banging his pretty research assistant was so cliche and yet, you had fallen for every lame excuse he had given for six years. That is, until the truth of your unholy union had smacked you dead in the face. It made you want to scream, especially since you had been that same research assistant once upon a time but stupidly, you had assumed that what the two of you had was different. 

Which led you to the place you were, in the first reasonably affordable home you could find on such short notice, lugging all of your worldly possessions in by yourself because the person you had given up everything for had turned out to be a stranger. Betrayal had been coiled around you for two months after the grand reveal, imprisoning you in the carcass of a marriage way past its expiration date. For two months you had stayed silent, shocked into a void by the audacity of your ex as he begged you to stay, but it had all come to head after you found the messages that proved he was still seeing the other woman. 

To call her a woman was generous. She was barely an adult really, twenty years old and filled with so much hope, just like you had been when you met him in an intro course during your first year of undergrad. It broke your heart to see the same lines being used on yet another fresh face and finally, a lightbulb had gone off in your head. A week after finding the messages, while he was at work, you vanished without a trace. Austin held the only home you could actually afford without his help, so Austin would be your new start. 

“Fuck me,” you groaned, dropping the final box in the entryway in lieu of dragging it all the way to the kitchen. 

With heavy limbs, you wandered over to the couch that you had almost dislocated a shoulder trying to shove in through the front door and plopped down on it with a grunt. There was still the bed and a couple other big things left in the moving truck but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. After a morning filled with nothing but emotionally draining goodbyes to the city you once loved and the beautiful apartment that had served you since grad school, followed shortly by the workout of a lifetime, you were wiped. Plus, there was much else left to do, like setting up the AC and grabbing one of the beers you had shoved in the fridge upon arrival. You could practically taste the ice cold Coors Banquets and feel the frigid air sputtering out of the air conditioner that you hadn’t used since undergrad, but you remained glued to the couch.  

The weight of the day came down hard, pressing you into the soft cushions until you were sure that your body would become fused to them. It was like you were trapped, shackled to the seat with nowhere to go but further down. No matter how hard you tried, your limbs refused to cooperate and so you sat, admiring the first space you could truly call your own. As the sun filtered in through the big bay windows, illuminating the tiny home in a warm glow, you supposed there were worse places to be trapped. All in all, the house itself wasn’t all that bad. Sure, it had some years on it, but with a few fresh coats of paint and some much needed updates to the appliances, you were sure that it would do just fine. 

The big windows along the front of the house called to you through the ugly wallpaper and carpeted staircase when you saw it online, along with the hardwood floors that only needed one good scrub before they gleamed once more. The apron front sink in the kitchen, the clawfoot tub in the bathroom attached to the master suite, the built-in shelves in the living room where you could imagine organizing all of your many books, they all spoke of a life worth living, a life where he wasn’t around to ruin it. You could make this work, you had to. If anything, just to prove him and everyone else in your former life wrong. 

“Uh - Hiya,” came from the front door, snapping you out of the pit of loathing you were so prone to these days. 

The voice was light and sweet, the sound of it caressing your ear drums as you turned to examine its owner. The girl it came from was young, probably somewhere in her early teens if you had to guess, with beautiful bouncing curls and big eyes that reminded you of a puppy dog. She smiled brightly as you muscled through the pain to stand, taking that as her cue to dart into the house. 

“Um, hey there,” you chuckled awkwardly, unused to being in the presence of teenagers outside of working hours. 

“You must be new! Well, I mean obviously, you’re not Mrs. Thompson. She was like a hundred years old or something,” the stranger chirped, her curls lightly bouncing as she spoke. 

“Yeah uh, I think she went to live with her son in Boston. She gave me a good price, so everyone wins I guess,” you said, wincing at how boring you probably sounded to the young girl. 

“That’s great!,” she smiled, the sincerity nearly knocking you off balance, “Anyways, Ellie said she watched you move in today all by yourself. Ugh, don’t worry, I already gave her hell for not helping, she’s always hanging out with her girlfriend. But I felt bad, so I made you these.” 

A tin container was thrust into your face, the faded faces of Sesame Street characters on the side of it making you cock an eyebrow at her. With a hesitant smile, you took the box. Peeling the lid back, the pile of chocolate chip cookies that greeted you made your throat grow tight. Not one happy birthday had been sent your way, much less any sort of treat. Looking down at them, your stomach rumbled, a ferocious sound that made you bypass all social niceties and cram one of the chocolatey treats into your mouth before the organ caved in on itself.

“Jesus Christ, that’s fucking good,” you moaned, closing your eyes to fully savour the taste.

It was only when you opened them that you were reminded of the child that stood in front of you.  

“Oh don’t worry about it” she giggled, waving off the panic that undoubtedly spread across your face, “Dad is in construction. I’ve heard him and Uncle Tommy say way worse than that.” 

“I bet,” you laughed, shaking your head as you put the container down. 

“I’m Sarah by the way, I live over there,” Sarah said, pointing towards the home across the street that seemed to radiate the same warmth that she did. 

There were two kinds of people that owned a home like that; the kind that paid someone to meticulously craft it and got mad at anyone in the neighbourhood who seemed bad for their brand, or the kind that simply enjoyed the art of architecture and wanted their home to reflect it. With how much TLC your well loved bungalow was in need of, along with the measly salary you were about to be making at the local library, you hoped like hell that Sarah’s parents were the latter. The last thing you needed was a member of the PTA banging down your door because the bushes weren’t trimmed to perfection. 

“It’s nice, your parents have really good taste,” you said, admiring the stone pathway. 

“Oh no, that’s actually all dad. He owns a contracting business. Pretty boring stuff really, but it means me and Ellie get to order take out whenever he has to stay late at the jobsite,” she said mischievously, making you grin in return. 

Sarah had a way about her, a magnitude that came from being the purest form of extrovert. It made you wonder about the rest of her family. With most of the hyenas that you had once called your friends miles away, you hoped her parents were as friendly as their chatty daughter. The thought of having another grown up to talk to, one that didn’t expect anything from you other than a glass of wine and laughter, was incredibly attractive. Maybe her mom had a group of girlfriends she could introduce you to, perhaps even a book club that had room for one more. You sighed, a girl could dream. 

“So, what about you newbie? What’s your story?,” she asked. 

Loosened up by the sweet treat, you found yourself telling Sarah your name, some censored details of your past life, your future gig at the library, and even the fact that it was your birthday. In return, you listened as the teen chirped excitedly about her favourite books and even agreed to help her find a few things in the stacks once you got your bearings. The conversation was nice, uncomplicated and cheerful, making you completely forget about the disaster that surrounded you. 

For weeks, all of the people in your life had hung you out to dry. The men who were likely cheating on their own beautiful brides scoffed at what they thought to be a theatrical reaction to your ex’s betrayal, while their polished wives asked through thinly veiled humor if you actually thought you could do any better than him. And the worst part was that you had started to believe them, entertaining the idea that maybe they were right, maybe all you were meant to be was a pretty face for him to drag to stuffy parties or university sponsored fundraisers. After all, you were nothing but a stray that he had picked up along the way. And him? Well, he had always held all of the power. But in that moment, in your own home with a bubbly teen chattering about the joys of YA novels, you finally felt like you could breathe again.  

“I don’t want to talk your ear off when you clearly have some stuff to unpack, but maybe later tonight you could come over for supper? My dad always makes way too much and Ellie is probably out with Riley, so…,” Sarah trailed off, looking up at you with her best puppy dog eyes. 

“Ah well, as much as I’d like to, I really need to hose this stench off and I’ve still got a couple heavier things in the back of the truck that need to come in before it gets dark. How about next time?,” you tried. 

Sarah smiled at that, nodding excitedly despite the rejection. Although you were curious about her proposal, there was no universe where you would accept a dinner invitation from a random child. No matter how cool her parents might be, you were pretty sure it would be weird for their teenager to come home with a random woman in tow. What would you even say to her father? Her mother? You could practically see them in all of their middle-class American glory, the father pot bellied and wary of any woman who was educated, and the docile wife that had settled for him once those dreaded blue lines had shown up. There was no way you were going to sit through a dinner with the embodiment of your living nightmare for anyone, much less a teenager you barely knew. Although, her enthusiasm did make you hesitate. 

“Of course! Go! Take your shower and let me worry about the rest,” Sarah exclaimed, practically bouncing out the door with a cheeky grin. 

“What? Wait! What do you mean you’ll ‘worry about the rest’?!,” you called after her, but she was already out the door. 

Weird, you thought, shrugging it off as you turned back towards the disaster spread across your home. It would take hours to unpack it all and with the bigger things still loaded into the truck, you decided that there was no use in worrying about making the place look homey quite yet. What needed to be addressed immediately was the acrid stench wafting from your pores. It was as if the last few years of your life were literally oozing out into the tiny space, the move itself cleansing you of the toxins that had been building up for far too long. 

Sighing, you dragged yourself up the stairs and into the ensuite, thanking the heavens that you had thought to label the boxes so that you didn’t have to pilfer through the mess for a towel. After finding the expensive shampoo and conditioner that you had swiped during the escape, you turned the valve as cold as it would go and stepped in. The frigid stream rained down on you, banishing every thought from your mind as all of your muscles tensed in displeasure. Goosebumps erupted all over, your nipples hardening up so fast that you were sure they could cut through glass, but you powered through it. The cold water was as invigorating as it was uncomfortable and you wanted to revel in it for as long as possible. 

However, just as you had finished going through all of your hair care and scrubbing down your body for a third time, you heard it. The sound was small, so small that you might’ve ignored it if you were in your previous home, but this was different. No longer were you in a high rise filled with other tenants that shared the same building. And no longer were you subjected to a husband that ungraciously crashed in and out of the home at all hours. You were all alone, in a home that had no other owner. A home where any vaguely masculine sound could not go unchecked, especially when you were naked and it was coming from inside of your bedroom. 

“Shit,” you cussed, quickly shutting off the stream of water that pounded against your backside. 

With shaky hands, you slid the door to the shower open, stepping out onto the tiles carefully so as not to make any noise. Had you locked the front door before coming upstairs? You couldn’t remember, but it hardly seemed important at that moment. Not when there was an unknown assailant in your bedroom, doing god knows what as he grunted from exertion. With most of your pointy things downstairs and the clothes you were wearing somewhere in the bedroom with him, there weren’t many options. Either you stayed in the bathroom and prayed he didn’t bust the door down, or you covered up as much as possible and ran for it. 

With no other option, you gulped and wrapped a towel around yourself as tight as it would go. You couldn’t remember the last time you ran anywhere. It must have been the rugby tryouts a college roommate dragged you to during your first year. Shivering, you tried not to think about how you had gotten your ass kicked that day. Athletic was not a word you would use to describe yourself, you had always been the girl who had lunch with the English teacher because she didn’t have any friends, but this was life or death. Taking a deep breath, you eased the door open and slipped out, eyes trained on the sweaty back of a stranger. You were just about to start running when the man grunted, lifting himself from the floor with a huff. Frozen, you watched in horror as he turned around, his big brown eyes falling on you instantly. 

“AH!,” he exclaimed, his booming voice catching you off guard and making you drop the towel that was already doing a horrible job at containing your curves. 

A beat passed, one where you wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and cease to exist. Whoever the home invader was, he was handsome. Handsome and staring quite plainly at your exposed breasts like he was trying to burn them into his memory. Your face burned, cunt clenching from his quiet reverie. If you were a stronger woman, or at least a woman who had been given regular orgasms from her partner, perhaps then you would have tried to escape him, but you weren’t. With your heart slamming against your ribcage, you stood there in complete silence, trapped by those dark eyes that took in every inch of your damp skin. 

“Please,” you whispered, unsure whether it was his mercy or ruthlessness you were asking for. 

Either way, the stranger seemed to know what you needed. Before you had a chance to even think about elaborating, he had already stepped into your space. For a moment the most twisted fantasies, along with the most terrifying thoughts, bubbled up from deep inside of you. His scent engulfed you, a delicious mixture of sawdust and the spiciness of his cologne, and it made you rub your thighs together to ease some of the pressure gathering there.  

“M’sorry sweetheart,” he mumbled, the gentleness catching you off guard entirely.  

It was soft, the low cadence of his syrupy drawl similar to that of a lover whispering sweet nothings after a particularly passionate night. All at once, you felt that electrified pull beneath your navel, an animalistic draw that you could tell he felt as well, and suddenly it didn’t matter that he was a stranger. Who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth? Especially one with such kissable lips. He stepped even closer and your heart stuttered, the proximity forcing your gaze up towards his face to gauge his intentions. 

However, just as you thought that the gorgeous stranger might swoop down and take you, he averted his eyes, stooping down on creaky knees to grab the towel off the floor for you. All you could do was stare at him, watching as a bit of red crept up the side of his neck and brightened the highs of his beautiful cheekbones as he held it out. It truly was a shame that your burglar didn’t want to fuck you, especially since you were more than happy to let him take whatever he wanted once he made you cum, but reality wasn’t like the smutty novels you had lived off of. Trying to keep a petulant whine from spilling from your lips, you snatched the towel from his grasp and wrapped it around yourself once more. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give ya a fright by hollerin’ like that. My ears are mostly for show these days darling. Fifteen years of construction will do that I suppose,” he awkwardly joked, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Um, okay? Who the hell are you? Why are you in my house?,” you asked, sounding more confused than angry.

He straightened up at once, brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what you had just said. 

“What?”

“What do you mean what?! I don’t know about you sir, but I don’t just walk into other people’s homes uninvited while they are in the goddamn shower,” you sassed, rolling your eyes at the way he was suddenly so keen to stare at the walls instead of you. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he said under his breath, shaking his head. 

“Excuse me?,” you snapped, the illusion of a steamy fantasy shattered.  

He held up his hand, which made you want to rip the limb clean off his body but with no other option, you let him finish. 

“My daughter sent me over here to help ya move the last little bit of your stuff in,” he sighed, his hands scrubbing at his face, “She said you knew I was coming and that I could just go in. Fuck, I know that sounds stupid but the kid is kinda the master at convincing people to do stuff for her.”

“You must be Sarah’s dad,” you laughed, suddenly noticing a couple of the features they shared. 

He nodded, flushing even more as he chuckled alongside you. Looking at the man’s side profile, you couldn’t help but feel a bit bummed. When you thought of construction guys, men like Sarah’s dad didn’t exactly come to mind. But this man was something else, a unicorn hidden in a field of goblins that drank too much and had terrible political views. With a nose that you’d love to smush your clit against as you took his face for a ride and thick thighs that you knew would be more than capable of administering mind breaking thrusts, you were sure that proof of your arousal was about to start dripping down your thighs. It was unfair for a man like him to be so attractive, yet so off limits to you in a time of need. But before you could dwell on it too much, he started talking again.

“Listen, I uh… I’ve got that death trap that you call an AC set up downstairs, the kids are lugging in some of the other stuff right now, but I just thought that with a fancy ass bed frame like this, you might need a hand. I really didn’t mean to uh…,” he trailed off. 

So this was what Sarah had meant when she said she’d take care of things. You sighed. She had been trying to help you, that much was clear as your eyes landed on the dresser and vanity that had been dragged upstairs as well, but all the teen had truly accomplished was embarrassing you in front of her absolute smoke show of a dad. Even now, with his eyes elsewhere and his jaw set, you could tell that just one glance from him was going to have you weak in the knees. 

“I mean, she mentioned leaving it up to her. Never said how she planned to help though,” you chuckled, “You can turn around now too by the way, I’m decent.” 

And just as you thought, the second that he turned around you had to lock your knees so that you didn’t keel over. Fuck, you hated that you were right. Sarah’s dad was broad, the type of broad you knew came from a lifetime of working with his hands. His hair was a mess of mussed curls, with just a couple slivers of grey peeking out to show his age amongst the usual brown. But his eyes, god damnit his eyes, shot straight through you. 

The way he loomed over you, his gaze seeming to predict every mood, every whim, every desire without ever proding, made you want to jump him. And weirdly enough, you knew he felt the same, could practically taste the chemical reaction that he was having alongside you. His pupils were fully dilated, nostrils flaring like he was savouring the warm smell of vanilla that wafted off of you. He licked his lips as he stared down at your own and you wondered how he would taste if he gave himself permission to lean in. 

There was a part of you that wanted to shrink away from it, from the unwavering glance of someone whose vibrations seemed so aligned with your own, but you didn’t. It was strange. For years, despite the fact that you were literally married, nobody had looked at you like Sarah’s dad was in that moment. To be vulnerable, to be known,  was a burden by all reports and running from the past had become something of a sport to you as of late. Nevertheless, for some reason, even though you were half naked and incredibly flustered, you had never felt more rooted in place. 

“I’m Joel by the way,” he drawled as he shoved one of his big bear paws out towards you, “Joel Miller. I live across the street, but I’m sure my knucklehead kid already told ya that.” 

The way Joel’s hand swallowed yours when you took it, his thick fingers warming your freezing skin as you barely managed to stutter out your name, was not lost on either of you. Something hummed underneath your skin, making you want to reach out and yank his face towards yours. An electric current lit up every single nerve ending in your body, while warning bells went off in your head. 

For the sake of human decency, you tried to be reasonable. A man this hunky definitely had a wife, a girlfriend, or several more casual flings, and you were not in any position to be looking for anything. But that didn’t stop the uncensored filth that flashed through your mind. All you could think about was tearing his shirt off, licking the bead of sweat that dripped down his neck, and grinding against what you knew would be a devastatingly huge bulge. You bit your lip, shifting a bit uncomfortably as you felt your clit pulse with desire. 

Joel flicked his gaze down towards your bare thighs, a ghost of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He knew. You wanted to run from him, to bury your head in the sand until the hot flash of embarrassment fizzled out, but you didn’t. Instead you stayed put, letting his scent dizzy you as he shifted imperceptibly closer. One more step and your nose would be brushing Joel’s chest, one more step and you knew that you would be climbing him like a tree. The situation itself was insane, but you couldn’t help but imagine what his rough palms were going to feel like against your hips as he speared you down on his thick c-

“Well, I’m real sorry about the miscommunication darling. I truly thought that she told you. Christ, I can’t even imagine how scared I must’ve made ya. The last thing you needed was a dumbass like me welcoming you to the neighborhood with a heart attack,” Joel joked, gracefully extracting his hand from your grasp. 

You didn’t even realize you were still holding it. His awkward smile brought you back down to earth, halting any internal debates about whether the strength he so clearly used at his job would translate in the bedroom. Instead, you waved him off and turned towards one of the boxes, grabbing whatever clothes you could find to cover yourself. 

“Don’t worry about it Joel, just maybe call first next time… Or at least knock, I’d like to know in advance if I’m gonna give someone a show,” you shot back, the humor in your tone catching him off guard. 

“Shit, alright then darling. Will do,” Joel chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he grew even redder than before. 

The two of you laughed for a second, completely locked in one another as the unbearable tension melted. It was incredibly comforting and extremely odd all at once. Despite the fact that you were exhausted, your mascara undoubtedly smeared beneath your eyes due to the elusiveness of your makeup wipes, you didn’t feel any particular urge to get dressed. 

Anyone with eyes could see that Joel Miller was a certified DILF, but the comfort you felt had nothing to do with his attractiveness. It was his presence, a steady flow of calm that radiated off of him and soothed the usual restlessness that drove you to the point of madness everyday. That and the way he looked at you, his eyes no longer widened from the sneak peek he had received, falling upon you as if you were someone he had known for years. It made you want to stay right there, drilling him about his life in nothing but a towel as he put together your bed, almost like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Hey, where do you think she would want this - Oh fuck, what the hell?,” a voice said from behind you, forcing the two of you to finally break eye contact. 

Another girl, this one interestingly also around the same age as Sarah, stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Based on the way she cocked an eyebrow at the man behind her, looking like she was about to make his life a living hell with all of the jokes she had conjured in that instant, you had no doubt that this was his other daughter. Ellie looked different than Sarah, with lighter skin and wavy hair, but their expressions were pretty much the same. With how close in age the two teens were, it seemed as though the devilishly handsome man in front of you had been blessed with a ridiculously busy year around fifteen years ago. You wondered which one of their moms Joel had raised his daughters with and sighed. Both of them were beautiful, which left no doubt in your mind that their moms were models of some sort. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” Ellie started, already drawing an exasperated sigh from her father, “Go help Sarah with the rest so that I can get this shit put together Ellie. Puh-lease! If you wanted some alone time with the hot new neighbour lady then you could’ve just asked us. That would have been a lot less weird than this.” 

“Damnit Ellie, that’s not -” Joel stopped, rubbing his eyes as he grew more flustered, “I was just putting her bed together and she came out of the shower, that’s all. Cut it out, would ya?” 

Ellie rolled her eyes, forcing you to bite back a laugh as her father floundered behind you. 

“Sure yeah, just putting her bed together so that you can get her pregnant on it,” she mumbled as she backed out of the room. 

“Hey! Watch your mouth kid,” he called after her, getting nothing but a cackle from down the hallway in response. 

Joel looked upwards, as if he was asking for assistance from a higher power before his gaze came back down to meet yours. Embarrassed didn’t even begin to cover how the man looked at that moment. Something akin to a fondness blossomed in your chest and you tried to shove it down but he was making it impossible. He looked cute all riled up, like a twelve year old boy rather than a man in his mid thirties. 

“Fuck’s sake, m’sorry about her too. That’s my other kid, Ellie. She thinks she’s a goddamn comedian or something, but I’m workin’ on it,” Joel groaned. 

“She IS funny Joel, you just don’t think so because the joke was at your expense,” you pointed out with a sly grin. 

“Yours too.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a sense of humor,” you teased, giving him a cheeky wink for good measure. 

Joel laughed, throwing his head back in a way that you couldn’t help but find endearing. His Adam's apple bobbed as the boisterous sound escaped his lips and you longed to nip at it until he whined. Did Joel Miller ever whine? God, you hoped so. Or perhaps he growled, muttering twisted promises in his lover’s ears as he fucked them into the mattress. You stopped yourself as Joel’s laughter petered off, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would notice how close you were to exploding in an instant. All of it was so ridiculous, you were just two adults having a normal conversation, nothing more. 

“Well, anyways I uh-,” you cleared your throat, “I should get dressed. You don’t have to finish all of this Joel, but I really appreciate the help. I’m sure you have stuff to be getting back to at home and I don’t want to be a pain. I’ve got the rest of this.” 

“With all due respect sweetheart, considering the fact that I ain’t seen a single box of tools anywhere and you’re on your own, I’m pretty sure you could use all the help you can get. How about I finish up while you get dressed? If you still want to kick me out after that, then by all means,” Joel proposed. 

“Fine, but I’m a speedy dresser so chop chop,” you said, pointing a finger at him. 

He laughed and gave you a mock salute, “Yes ma’am.” 

And while it was usually true that you were a speedy dresser, the shredded muscles that weighed you down ended up working in Joel’s favor. Plus, it had taken you nearly fifteen minutes to dig out your deodorant from one of the boxes. If it had been anyone else, you would have left it for later, but there was no way you were going to smell bad in front of a man that had turned you into a horny teen again. Once you were done, you slipped back out into the bedroom, coming to a halt when you saw the progress of Joel’s work. Although you were sure that he would likely be done getting the frame together, and perhaps even setting up the headboard, nothing could have prepared you for the amount of work he had accomplished. 

The bed was fully set up. The only task that was left was to cover it in sheets. Meanwhile, your bedside tables were in place on each side, the lamp and alarm clock set up on the one closest to the window. Even the rug you typically placed at your bedside for the chillier mornings was exactly where it should be. It was as if Joel had delved into your mind to find the exact layout you desired in a home. You smiled as you looked over his work. Who would have thought that such a man, or any man for that matter, could possess such attention to detail? You smiled, deciding that you needed to thank him, but as you looked around, you realized he was gone. 

A bit peeved from Joel’s sudden absence, you moved down the hallway in search of one of the three Millers you had been acquainted with so far. The spare bedroom that you planned to make an office now held your desk and your monitor, another clue of the man you had wanted to climb like a tree just moments before, but the culprit behind the set up remained elusive. As you drifted down the stairs, you felt the cold air being pumped out of the clunky air conditioner in the living room and sighed. The kitchen table was in place, the loveseat, the armchair, even your many plants that had been strapped into the passenger seat of the truck were shoved along the wall of the big bay windows, soaking up the last bits of the Texan sun. 

The kindness that the Millers had shown to you today was not lost on you, especially with how shitty of a day it had been thus far. Today was supposed to mark your thirtieth year on this earth, a cause for celebration that you had actually been looking forward to and yet, you had commenced it with a hasty escape and ended it with a difficult move. Still, you supposed there was a good side to even the worst endings, and maybe the good side was getting to fluster a ruggedly handsome contractor in your bedroom without really having to try. Even with your unshaved legs and melted makeup, he had still looked at you like you were some sort of nymph. That had to count for something. Stepping into the kitchen in search of the beer you so desperately needed, you decided to count the experience as a win. 

So what if the hunk across the street had seen you but ass naked? The thinly veiled desire in Joel’s eyes for those few split seconds after the towel had fallen was the perfect balm to an itch that hadn’t been scratched in quite some time. For years, your ex had barely glanced in your direction, which made sense now that you knew that he had been cheating on you for the entirety of your marriage. Stupidly, you had assumed it to be your own fault that he wasn’t interested. As if his lack of desire for you and your body was somehow proof that you were not only unattractive, but a burden to him as well. 

The rejection had made you do incredibly ridiculous things like signing up for pilates and trying every bogus crash diet there was, but this absolute stranger had been interested in your curves in an instant. A stunning man that any sane woman would happily ride into the sunset had stared at you like you were a four course meal, never once frowning at any of your imperfections. There was power in that, a power you had completely forgotten until the moment that the towel fell. Fuck your ex, you thought as you uncapped a cold beer, you would be fine without him. 

-

Life in Austin had started off a bit hectic, as you found yourself distracted for days after the encounter with Joel, but it slowly started to take shape as the days turned into weeks. More of the boxes were unpacked, a fresh coat of paint eventually covered the walls of your living room and kitchen, and even the weeds in the little garden out front had been dealt with. With the few art pieces you owned hung on the walls and your plants crowding every windowsill of the house, the place was finally a solace. Even your job at the library, despite the disarray everything had been in because its former director, had become easier with time. The staff slowly learned to accommodate your managing style, along with the much needed updates in the form of a functional filing system and actual advertising for the small events that the library held. 

By the end of your first month, Austin no longer felt like a holding place for something more, it felt like home. And although you had still not made any friends outside of the two teenage girls that somehow always sweet talked their way into a night of movies and junk food in your living room, you were happy. Originally, you had hoped for girlfriends to drink wine and chat with, but if the best that Austin could offer you was hanging out with your neighbour’s chatty kids, you’d take it. The girls were good company, which was more than you could say about the previous crowd you had ran with. Plus, you had managed to greedily squeeze some information from the two about the handsome man that they lived with, the same man who had since vanished from your life without a trace. 

Joel was a single father, a fact that you tried not to dwell on too much for fear you would do something stupid like try to seduce him. After Sarah’s mom had left he had taken on full responsibility for the newborn girl, all while juggling work and a brother who apparently had been known to get into a bit of trouble from time to time. That alone was worthy of respect, but it was his guardianship over Ellie that made your heart melt. Sarah was only a couple months old when a bundled up newborn had been found at one of his worksites and without knowing anything about the nameless child, Joel and his big heart had taken her in. 

Everything you heard about this man, whether it be his care over his daughters, or his apparent love for cooking, or the fact that he never missed an event in his children’s lives despite owning his own company, was enough to light a spark in your belly. You tried to suppress it, the cave woman instincts that screamed at you to find a way to get Joel alone so that you could pounce, but it was becoming harder the more his daughters told you about him. The allure of a man like him, a true provider that seemed to put everyone above himself, was getting harder to ignore. Which meant that as hard as you tried to not to be disappointed by his sudden absence, you couldn’t help the sour look on your face every time he managed to dodge you. 

Every morning when you heard Joel’s truck start, you found yourself racing to the window, hoping to get a sneak peak at him in his work clothes. Much to your dismay, he managed to escape in the nick of time every day, and you were left kicking your feet like a goddamn teenager as you watched his tail lights disappear down the street. It was probably for the best anyways, or at least that’s what you told yourself. The last thing you needed was to be caught drooling at him in his carhartt like some sort of creep. 

Despite the obvious crush that you held for the gruff stud, you continuously reminded yourself that Joel Miller was off limits. It didn’t matter that he was single, nor that he was obviously attracted to you. After a full ten years of being committed to only one man and eight years of a heart breaking marriage, with the last six of them being downright embarrassing, you knew that getting involved with someone so soon was a bad idea. What you needed was something flirty and fun, the fling you never got the chance to have in your twenties. All you wanted was someone who would call you pretty, someone who would take you on a few nice dates and maybe even fool around with you in the back of their car. And Joel Miller… Well, Joel Miller was a man through and through. There was no way someone with so many responsibilities would be interested in something so fleeting. 

Which was why when a handsome stranger had approached you at the coffee shop in town and asked you out, you had happily accepted. Brad was handsome and tall, with a smart blazer that had made him look incredibly sharp in the more casual environment of the cafe. In hindsight, that should have been the first warning sign, but you had ignored it in hopes that you might get a nice dinner out of him at the very least. How ridiculous you had been, hoping for a nice dinner from a man that was almost a carbon copy of your ex. 

From the moment you saw Brad in his flashy convertible, you knew the date was a mistake, but you had stupidly pushed it aside. But as you listened to him drone on about the thrills of working in marketing, you felt yourself beginning to drift away. All of the work you had raced home after work to accomplish, the makeup, the dress, the heels, the Pamela Anderson updo that you had spent nearly an hour trying to perfect; it had all been for nothing. 

“... And that’s when I said, you call that content creation? Are you in communications or something?,” Brad laughed, a nasally sound that grated upon your already thin patience. 

You granted him a fake laugh, too out of it to make it sound overly convincing but he didn’t seem to notice or care. 

“Anyways, so that’s just a little bit about me,” he sighed, as if he hadn’t been talking for ages, “And you? I think I remember you saying that you’re a school teacher right? Man, those little boys must love having you around all day. I know that I would’ve loved having a hot teacher like you when I was their age.” 

A sharp burst of frustration burned through you, igniting a fire inside of your chest that clawed at the backs of your eyes. Three times you had told him what your profession was and yet it seemed that your words still hadn’t permeated through his thick skull. And the comment about the boys in the classroom he thought you ran? That made you want to punch him straight in his overly smug face. You supposed you shouldn’t have been that surprised, especially since every bathroom break Brad took was followed with the tell tale sniffling that came from railing lines when he finally returned to the table. Every fiber of your being longed to get away, tears threatening to spill over as yet another man made you feel as though you were not worthy of attention. And still, your date was oblivious to it all, a nostalgic reminder of what you had dealt with for the last ten years. 

“Alright, well I gotta go take another leak. You stay here gorgeous, I’ll be right back,” Brad announced suddenly, clapping his hands together as he unceremoniously lifted himself from the booth and scurried towards the safe zone where he could delve into the white powder in his pocket. 

He shot you a wink as he waltzed away, making you shudder as you watched him disappear into the bathroom. The second Brad was out of view, you were up out of the booth, fumbling with the hem of your dress as you made your hasty escape. Patrons turned towards you as you went by, no doubt amused by the frazzled woman that was doing a horrible job getting out unnoticed. All eyes seemed to be on you as you bumped into waiters and busboys, but it was when your heel suddenly snapped just inches from the front door that you finally broke down.  

“No,” you croaked, the pitiful sound of it muffled beneath the upbeat pop music that the chic establishment was blaring through its speakers. 

The gazes of the entire bar, along with undoubtedly most of the restaurant, burned a hole into your backside and you had no other choice than to slip the heel off so that you could hobble towards the exit. You barely managed to make it just a few steps outside before the real tears came. Heaving sobs tumbled from your lips as you hobbled towards the sidewalk, making the smokers out front scatter like rats, but you couldn’t care less. You had already made a spectacle, what were a few more judgmental looks to someone so desolate? 

Brad had offered to drive and you, swept up in the fantasy of being treated like a lady for once in your god forsaken life, had stupidly accepted. With nobody to call, and no idea how to navigate the transit system, you had no choice but to take the thirty minute journey back home on foot. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…,” you muttered, berating yourself for even thinking that you might have a good time. 

The idea of a perfect date was so stupid, it was just a concept fueled by cheesy romance novels and hallmark movies. Every date you had ever been on was a flop but for whatever reason, there was still some childish part of you that dreamed of one day being knocked off your feet by someone who cared enough to try. It didn’t even have to be flashy, all you wanted was to have someone to plan something that you would actually enjoy, not some sleazy date at a place way above your paygrade. Upon accepting the invitation, you knew that Brad wasn’t the kind of guy that was going to dream up something life changing, but you had hoped that he would at least pretend to care about what you had to say, even if it was just to swindle you into some mediocre hand stuff in the car on the way back. But of course, no such luck. 

Wiping some of the smudged eyeliner off of your face, you leaned down and took off the other shoe, readying yourself for the long trek home. You sighed, heart pounding as you looked down at the get up you were in. The dress was beautiful, but it was also one of the more revealing items in your wardrobe and it would be dark soon. As a car full of young men slowed down as they passed, all of them looking at you like you were a piece of meat, you resigned yourself to running down the highway if you must. However, as you hastened towards the crosswalk, a fresh wave of panic propelling you forward, you heard someone call out your name. You sighed, thinking it was Brad hot on your heels, only to be met with the sight of none other than Joel Miller running after you as you turned. 

“Christ woman, you’re fucking fast,” Joel panted as he reached you, his hand rubbing at his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. 

“Joel? What are you doing here?,” you asked, so entirely bewildered by his presence that you briefly wondered if he was a panic induced hallucination. 

“I was meeting with a potential client back at the bar, some hot shot asshole that wants to put up a new subdivision. I was just about to leave but then uh…Well, I saw you come in,” he said sheepishly, his words only baffling you even more.

“Oh,” was all you could say. 

A beat passed, one where you tried to avoid eye contact despite the fact that his gaze was burning through the side of your face. The last person you wanted to see at that moment was Joel, especially when his hair was slicked back from his face and his well built physique was practically bursting through the seams of his button up. You were a complete mess, as was your life, and the truth of it was laid bare for him on the filthy sidewalk as cars passed by. You were mortified. 

As to why Joel would stay at a place like that on account of you? You couldn’t say. It certainly didn’t seem like the type of restaurant he would be caught dead in, but you supposed that was just the type of man Joel was. Hell, he probably sensed the time bomb your date was going to be and felt obligated to make sure that the strange woman his kids seemed to like hanging out with made it home safe. The thought of it made you nauseous. 

“Here, you left this. I uh, I figured you’d need it,” Joel mumbled as he shoved your purse at you. 

The act was nothing really, something any normal person would have the decency to do if they saw someone leave behind their things in a public setting, but it shattered the last bit of resolve that you had been desperately clinging to. A strange noise came from you, the sound somewhere between a choked whine and a garbled apology, then the dam broke. The first sob was harsh, all of the pain of having yet another man disappoint you bubbling up and slapping Joel straight in the face with its volume. And yet, as you tried to grab the purse from him so that you could run from him and the terrible night, he snatched it back. 

“W-What?,” you squeaked, unable to stop the shaky cries that slurred all of your words.  

“C’mon sweet girl,” Joel sighed, pulling the broken heels from your shaky hands as well, “Let’s get you home.” 

You barely had time to think before one of his hands was pressed against the small of your back, leading you towards the parking lot like it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t say anything else despite your incoherent attempts at refusing his assistance, he simply continued to coral you towards his truck with his soft touch. Joel wrenched his passenger door open, throwing your heels into the back of the truck and carefully placing the purse on the center console before he held his hand out to you. 

“Joel, I don’t need - ,” you stopped, cut off by the stormy look and sharp shake of the head that he sent your way.  

With no other choice, you grabbed Joel’s hand, quietly thanking him as you used it to lift yourself into the cab. Once you were in the seat, he stared at you for a moment, like he was trying to solve some sort of puzzle in his head. His eyes flicked over every inch of you, the warmth in them almost as palpable as the concern. Your heart stuttered when Joel’s eyes finally met yours again, the poor thing stumbling through its duty under his heavy gaze. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, warring with himself for a couple more seconds before he finally asked, “Are you okay darling?”

“I’m…,” you stopped, unsure how to answer him. 

The answer to that question was complicated. Were you okay? That was something that you asked yourself almost every single day since arriving in Austin and luckily, thanks to all of the ways your life had improved since leaving you ex, your answer was closer to a yes than it had been in years. 

“Almost… I’m trying to be at least,” you said quietly, “That’s why I thought it might be good to… I don’t know, try to get out there again? It was a stupid idea. That guy was clearly not the right person to try with but I just wanted to feel special I guess.” 

Joel nodded, a look of genuine understanding slightly softening his clenched jaw. His fists unclenched at his sides, his whole being deflating with the immediate danger out of sight. He started to say something, to answer the vulnerable admission you had made to him, but an obnoxiously loud voice cut him off. 

“Hey! There you are. Shit, I only left for like ten minutes babe and you ditch me? C’mon! What the fuck is up with that? I thought you were fun,” Brad laughed as he approached the truck. 

“God damnit,” you muttered, readying yourself for whatever bullshit argument this guy was going to force you to take part in because of his dented ego. 

“Stay here,” Joel grunted, a grim expression wiping any trace of compassion from his face as he began to close your door.  

“Wait, what? Joel, n-.” he cut you off, slamming the door in your face as he turned towards the man stalking towards the back of his truck. 

You turned, watching through wide eyes as Brad tried to keep his cool in the face of your kind neighbour that had just morphed into a frightening guard dog. Sure, Brad was just as tall as Joel, but Joel was undoubtedly stronger than him. Whereas the muscles your date had were for show, created in a gym with a million other douchebags that looked just like him, Joel’s were earned through back breaking labor. Next to your neighbor, Brad looked like a shrimp dick nobody and based on his nervousness, he knew it too. 

Their words were muffled, so much so that you could barely make out anything other than your name, but their faces said it all. While Joel remained stoic, Brad grew more petulant by the second, until he slowly began to take on the shape of a child who had gotten their toy taken away from them. You didn’t know what to do. The mess was yours and yet, there was Joel looming over your shitty date, looking like he was about ready to strangle the asshole if he said one more stupid thing. With how much the Millers had helped you on your first day, the last thing you needed was to feel more indebted to any of them, especially Joel. Sighing, you ripped open the door and turned on shaky legs to face the man throwing a tantrum over your disappearance. 

“Fine, what do I care? That bitch has probably fucked half the town by now,” Brad laughed, the words slamming into your chest so hard that you stumbled a few steps back. 

“I’m gonna give you one chance to walk that one back asshole,” Joel seethed, the veins in his neck straining as all of the kindness you were accustomed to seeing in him shifted into something much darker. 

Brad took one step forward, smugness oozing from his pores as he leaned in to say, “I’m just saying man, might want to get checked out if you’ve hit that. Do you know how easy it was for me to get a date with her? All I had to do was ask and that slut -”

The rest of that statement was lost, a sharp grunt replacing whatever scathing comment Brad had brewing as Joel’s fist connected with his face. You gasped, watching as your date fell back on his ass, groaning as blood spurted from his shattered nose. Brad didn’t even try to get up, the fear evident in his eyes as his attacker knelt down and roughly took hold of his collar. 

“You’re not going to call her, you’re not going to try to talk to her in town, and you sure as shit aren’t going to tell anyone about what happened here today. I don’t want to see you even fucking breathe in the same space as that woman, you got me?,” Joel hissed, giving the bleeding man a hard shake for good measure. 

“Shit man, I-I’ve got it! She won’t hear from me ever again,” Brad stuttered, sounding almost close to tears himself. 

“Good, now fuck off before I knock your goddamn teeth out,” Joel snapped, dropping your date onto the pavement and promptly turning back towards the truck. 

His eyes widened a little when he saw you standing near the bumper, seemingly unaware that he had an audience for his threats. You gave him a weak smile, something that earned you yet another shake of the head from him as he stomped towards you. Joel took your hand this time, grumbling about safety as he dragged you back towards the passenger seat, but you were too flustered by the scene to ask him to speak up. 

Joel had defended you, despite the fact that you were basically strangers. And not just that, but he had looked damn good doing it too. You tried to keep yourself in check, to remind yourself that he was simply a good man, but he was making it incredibly hard. A gasp fell from your lips as Joel mindlessly gripped your hips, forgoing the hand hold in order to lift you back into the truck. 

“Shit,” you whispered, unable to keep the cuss from tumbling out with his fingers digging into your curves, releasing a swarm of butterflies inside of your gut. 

Joel paused, his face just inches away from yours and his hands still placed on your hips as he looked you right in the eye. Neither of you said a word, the silence thick as your breaths slowly synced with one another. Once again, the rest of the world fell away and it was just the two of you. A tidal wave could rush past and you’d be none the wiser, too wrapped up in the way his dark eyes searched yours for something unknown. The warmth that radiated off of him soothed your nerves, until all of the shakes that had previously been wracking your body petered off. 

“M’sorry sweetheart, you shouldn’t have had to see that nonsense,” Joel said after a while, giving you another once over before he grabbed your seat belt and buckled you in. 

Normally if any man would have buckled you in, you would’ve lost it. But with Joel, it didn’t feel like infantilization. You weren’t even sure he was aware he had done it. The act was simply a part of his programming, the stress of the previous encounter making him move entirely on autopilot. At first you stayed silent, overwhelmed by his proximity and the feeling of his fleeting touch drifting away as he started to lean back out of the cab, but the void that his absence left broke you. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed his bicep, the thick muscles making you shiver as you felt them tense under your palm. 

“Thank you Joel,” you said softly, the sound of it almost getting lost under the hum of traffic, “I’m not… I don’t have anyone, or really anything except for my house and my job. This was… kind, more kind than someone like me deserves. Thank you.” 

Joel stared at you for another moment, his brow furrowed like he was trying to work out some sort of equation before he said, “Don’t be ridiculous,” and slammed the door in your face. 

The silence was deafening as Joel walked over to the driver’s side, the sting of rejection coming back with a vengeance. You couldn’t understand why he would shut you down like that, especially after risking an assault charge just because some asshole called you a slut. Embarrassment nipped at the heels of his rejection, warming your cheeks as you tried not to think about the visceral reaction you had to his touch just moments before. Joel was just being nice, that’s all there was to it. He wasn’t your lover, he wasn’t your friend, he wasn’t anything other than the neighbour who his kids happened to like. To hope for more was ridiculous. 

The second that the door to the driver’s side was yanked open, you looked ahead, not wanting to make the situation anymore weirder than it had to be. Joel eased himself into his seat, fumbling with his own seatbelt for a second before he started the engine. Without another word, he backed out of the parking space, even placing his hand behind your seat in a way you couldn’t help but find attractive. Every inch of the tiny space already smelled of Joel, but with his chest inches from your face and his musk in your nose, you suddenly longed for the walk home you had originally feared. 

The ride home was quiet, neither of you saying a word as the truck sped towards your culdesac. Joel fiddled with the radio a bit, putting on an oldies station that played stuff like Johnny Cash and Hank Williams to fill the silence. Meanwhile, you tried hopelessly to wipe some of the makeup off of your face, all while a few more tears slipped through to ruin the little bit of progress you made. Groaning as the final stretch of the ride came into view, you decided to give up on the task altogether. Soon you would be home, where the makeup remover awaited you in the upstairs bathroom. 

You sighed as Joel turned down your street, longing for comfier clothes and a pillow to suffocate yourself with. He turned into your driveway, ignoring your half-assed attempts to assure him that you were perfectly capable of walking across the street as he parked. Instead, he jumped out of the truck and rushed over to your door, yet again surprising you as he held it open. 

“Um, thanks,” you said, feeling particularly shy as he led you towards the front of the house. 

Joel said nothing in return, his meaty hand pressed into the small of your back again as the two of you walked up the pathway. He followed you all the way to the porch, only dropping his hand back down to his side the second you were in reach of the door knob. But you didn’t grab the handle, too busy staring up at him with your lip caught between your teeth. His words - Don’t be ridiculous - played over and over inside of your head, until all you could focus on was the hot sting that thickened the lining of your throat. He didn’t waiver when a fresh line of tears clouded your vision, steady in the storm as per usual, and you suddenly wondered how he could stand being in the presence of someone so emotional. 

“He’s not worth your tears honey,” Joel said after a moment, his tone laced with something akin to affection, “You’re too pretty, too good, and way too fucking smart to be datin’ a dumbass like him. Whoever gets to take you out on a date should thank their lucky stars, not be a dick.” 

The words were like a shock to your system, making your mouth fall open. He sounded almost wistful, like it should be him taking you out on the town and not someone like Brad, but that couldn’t be. Joel had already made it perfectly clear that he didn’t consider himself someone you could count on, so why would he say something so charming? Was he trying to further complicate your night or was he simply trying to stop you from crying? It had to be the latter. 

“I don’t know what to say Joel,” you confessed. 

He shook his head, staring down at his feet for another second before he looked back up at you. 

“Ain’t nothing to say, I’m just stating facts,” Joel said, pausing as his own words made him so flustered that he had to clear his throat so he could continue with, “Uh, you got anything other than beer in that fridge of yours? That meal you were picking at wouldn’t even be enough to feed a damn pigeon.” 

“I’ve been here for over a month Joel, so luckily I’ve gotten the chance to fill up my fridge since move in day, but it’s good to know that you snooped through it,” you chuckled, some of the tension dissipating. 

“Good, that’s uh… That’s good,” Joel breathed, shifting uncomfortably on his feet for another painfully awkward stretch of silence. 

“Look, I really appreciate what you did for me today. I know that this was not how you probably wanted to spend your Thursday, but you don’t have to stay. I’m fine, everything is great. You can go back to the people you’ve got and I’ll go back to… Uh, this,” you laughed bitterly, “I mean, this is all I’ve got, right?” 

The vague gesture you made towards the tiny home was pathetic, even to you, but you weren’t sure how else to get Joel to leave you be. He wanted to help, that much was clear, but his harsh words still hung above your head, shattering any illusion that the two of you could one day be friends. It had stung, but it was just the reality check that you needed. You were a big girl and your handsome neighbor could not be the answer to all of your problems. 

“Oh sweetheart, that’s not what I m-”

“Good night Joel,” you cut in, not wanting to hear another word. 

The weight of the day had caught up to you, pressing down on your shoulders as you swung open the door and closed it straight in Joel’s face. Perhaps it was harsh, but you were too tired and had been toyed with by far too many men as of late to care about his feelings. All you wanted was a steaming hot bath, a tub of ice cream, and perhaps a few rounds with the rabbit hidden in your nightstand before you promptly passed out. Was that so much to ask for? 

Leaving Joel and all of his confusing sentiments behind, you trudged up the stairs, trying not to think about the fact that Brad’s words had meant absolutely nothing in comparison to your neighbour’s. In fact, you could care less what that asshole thought. What truly irked you was Joel and his flagrant disregard for your feelings one moment and his caring words the next. Nevertheless, you tried your best to tamp it all down, focusing instead on filling the tub with steaming hot water so that you could finally put the day to rest. 

-

The next day came much too quickly and you found yourself thanking the universe that it was finally Friday. If things were slow, which they usually were given the fact that the local kids would rather be caught dead than in the library on their weekends, you decided that today would be the perfect day to sneak out a bit early. An extra large pizza, some beer, and one of your many rom coms called to you, forcing you to get out of bed with an exasperated grunt. It was much too late to go through your usual routine, so you quickly splashed some water on your face, hoping that the bit of mascara you put on afterwards would distract from the puffiness around your eyes. Forgoing pants, you threw on a semi professional violet dress that brushed your knees, the sweetheart neckline showcasing your collarbones perfectly. After pairing it with a strappy pair of heels and throwing a cardigan over your shoulder to combat the frigid AC in the library, you slipped out the front door. 

The sun sat high in the sky, the heat of the day already well underway despite the fact that it was only eight o’clock in the morning, but that wasn’t what you noticed first. What you noticed first was the wrapped sandwich that sat on the porch swing, along with the small note that peeked out from beneath the iced coffee that was sweating under the morning heat. You approached the swing carefully, as if at any moment something might jump out at you. Before you had even read a single line, you knew who the gifts were from, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know why he had left them. 

Figured you might need an extra boost this morning and Ellie told me what you liked at that fancy ass cafe in town. 

You giggled, the first line of Joel’s note already breaking through the walls that you had tried to construct after leaving him on the porch the previous night. 

There’s a barbecue at my house this Saturday and I’d love it if you came and I think you should come and meet some people. Plus, it would make the girls really happy if you came, they really like you  and so do I. 

If not, I understand, you probably already have weekend plans anyways but I thought I’d let you know. I also left my number in case you wanted to talk, in case anything came up. You never know when you might need someone. 

Hope to see ya on Saturday,

Joel 

(512) 765 - 9140

Although Joel had tried to cross out his original words, you saw straight through the thin layer of blue ink. He wanted you to come, despite everything that had happened the previous day. And not just that, but he had given you his number as well? To talk? You tried not to squeal like a schoolgirl. If that wasn’t enough to make you swoon, the fact that the cafe that you liked was on the other side of town, which meant that Joel went out of his way this morning to pick up your order, was enough to bring a giddy smile to your face. You shoved the note into your purse, standing a bit taller as you walked towards your car with a half melted iced coffee and a room temperature breakfast sandwich. 

It didn’t matter to you that the taste was a bit off as you dug in, shifting your rust bucket into reverse and ignoring the way the engine clanged as you sped towards your last workday of the week. A handsome man had left you breakfast, along with a sweet note that tied a helium balloon to your heart and lifted it from the confines of your chest, and he didn’t even expect anything in return. By all regards, that was a win. So, as you sipped on the slightly watery coffee and inhaled the sandwich, you found yourself distracted by thoughts of Joel Miller and the barbecue he had invited you to. 

Maybe you weren’t so alone after all. 

[cryptidghost]

Help a queer t4t couple afford rent this month.

Hey guys, my name is Caden and I live with my girlfriend (@heavens-break-down) Mary. We're a t4t couple living in Texas, though we're not out because of the social and political climate here.

I don't like asking this, but rent is due next Friday 11/01/24 and my girlfriend and I have been in a tough spot this month with moving, getting a new place, and with me getting new jobs. I now just started my new jobs and my paychecks from those places won't come in until after rent is due (and we don't want to be late on rent at our new place and we've never been late on rent before previously).

We've had to be frugal this month with buying food and other necessities. We've even forgone celebrating our 8th anniversary this month. I still need new clothes and new shoes for my job, my girlfriend needs new shoes, and we still need a few things for our new apartment, but right now being able to pay rent is the priority for us.

If any of my followers would like to share this post and donate to us, we'd really appreciate it.

Donation links:

ca

pypl

vmo

Our goal is $500, but really anything would help us out tremendously.

[slutforgluttony]

Hi guys, I guess I never really gave an update to my Tumblr followers, so I'll do that now.

Recently, I took a trip to Texas for an esports event and got essentially broken up with mid trip w/ the partner I currently live with.

We've been living in an Airbnb together since we didn't have our own place, but now they sleep in a different room and I've been going through a really bad heartbreak.

We had been together technically for a year (I called things off when they cheated on me, but we were still together but not officially, so a type of situationship)

I'm having a really hard time adjusting to being on my own again, and need to save up money to afford the monthly rent I'm going to be required to pay when they're no longer helping.

Because of all this stress and heartbreak, my eating disorder has come back bc I'm too sad to eat most days, and stay in bed most of the time not wanting to be awake or to be alive 🥲

(I struggle with BPD and they were my favorite person, so losing them feels like the world is ending, and it's very difficult for me)

This is why I haven't been able to post new content recently, it's been very difficult to function.. but I don't want to lose my place of residency 😭

So please consider purchasing content from my Fansly to help me out 👉🏻👈🏻 I would greatly appreciate it.. or perhaps sponsor a stuffing bc I haven't had the money to order delivery (gotta save up all I can so I've just been starving myself instead 🫠)

You can find all my links and ways to support me @

[chadfallout76podcast]

Major Update: Life...is a changing for me/us (and a sneak peek of Vault-Tec Rises!

Good afternoon!

I wanted to give you all an update on Vault-Tec Rises as well as an update on myself and some major life changes happening this year that may impact our season while the dust settles. Firstly, I'm more than halfway done with our next major feature length episode, "Vault-Tec Rises"...which is technically episode 16, set BEFORE Little Sanctuary of Horrors. It essentially is the story of how everyone came to be there in the first place, what Vault-Tec and the Enclave are really up to, and is the start of our last 4 episodes of the season as the Battle for Appalachia begins.

Secondly, I've shared quite a bit about the journey of these past 10 years with my husband Travis and his struggle with mental health. Many of you were kind of enough to support or share our GoFundMe to help take the pressure off the crushing debt we were under with mounting medical bills and his bills, none of which was covered by insurance fully. Trying to keep us afloat financially has been a long-term struggle of mine and here's in New Hampshire we just haven't been able to get ahead. After having to cancel some of his services last week as we couldn't afford them, we made some major decisions.

The next few months I'll be doing a lot of painting, landscaping, plastering and prepping to list our home on the market. Financially we can't afford to buy again for a while, so we're stuck renting. Based on what things are selling for in the area, I'm not too worried about getting out of it fairly quickly. We'll be moving to Texas, in between Dallas and Fort Worth in a really beautiful, new planned community where leasing and the overall lower cost of living will save us $20k a year which will allow us to not only fix our debt issue permanently, but also they have one of the leading centers in the country for C-PTSD. Once settled, I'd be able to get him more direct help he's needed that we just don't have access to out here.

Texas is going to be a big, big change for us...a huge move, but one I'm eager to make. Our backup editor is continuing to plug away at stories as well as I've had my hands full with work trying to keep the lights on (literally). I wanted to explain all of this with clear honesty so you know what I've been doing, what I'll be doing this year and why it often takes us so long to ship episodes to you. Your patient and support of me really, really means the world to me. The other benefit of this move is that once I'm not strangled hustling for work 7 days a week, I'll have more free time to actually create. Something I really want to do...as there are still two more seasons of Chad and some other projects I really want to share with you all.

I hope to have our 3-hour feature length Vault-Tec Rises completed in the next few weeks, so stay tuned. :) And if you can please excuse how hectic this year will be between selling and moving halfway across the country I'd appreciate it.

Much love to you all,

Ken