#heavy-duty garbage bags

[cleaningproducts78]

Exclusivity: Revealing The Benefits And Surprises Of Sturdy Trash Bags

In waste management, heavy-duty garbage bags stand tall as unsung heroes, silently carrying the weight of our everyday disposables. These durable bags are designed to last and provide several advantages beyond their apparent strength. They are not just thicker versions of their lighter counterparts.

Rugged Durability:

The primary hallmark of heavy-duty garbage bags is their superior strength and durability. Crafted from high-density polyethene or other resilient materials, these bags are designed to resist punctures, tears, and leaks. This ensures that even the heaviest and sharpest waste items, such as broken glass or jagged packaging, are securely contained.

Versatility in Size and Capacity:

Heavy-duty variants provide a spectrum of sizes and capacities, unlike standard trash bags, which come in limited sizes. These bags cater to diverse waste disposal needs, from small kitchen bins to industrial-sized dumpsters. This versatility makes them ideal for both residential and commercial settings.

Odor Control Technology:

Recognising the importance of maintaining a pleasant living or working environment, many garbage bags incorporate advanced odour control technologies. Whether a fresh lavender scent or a neutralising agent, these bags help keep unpleasant odours at bay, ensuring a more comfortable waste disposal experience.

Resistance to Harsh Conditions:

Challenging weather conditions do not deter garbage bags. These bags maintain their integrity in scorching heat, cold, or pouring rain. This resilience is particularly beneficial for outdoor waste storage, preventing premature deterioration and reducing the likelihood of leaks during adverse weather.

Enhanced Closure Systems:

Heavy-duty garbage bags often feature improved closure systems to prevent accidental spills or overflows. Reinforced drawstrings, secure ties, or even zip-lock mechanisms provide an extra layer of security, making it easier to transport bags without the fear of spillage.

Ideal for Construction and Demolition Waste:

Construction sites generate substantial waste, including heavy and sharp materials. Heavy-duty garbage bags are the go-to choice in these environments due to their ability to handle the demanding nature of construction and demolition waste. Their toughness ensures that debris is safely contained, promoting a safer and cleaner work site.

Reduced Risk of Rips During Handling:

The reinforced design of heavy-duty garbage bags significantly reduces the risk of rips and tears during handling. This is particularly advantageous when lifting and transporting bags, ensuring they hold up even when moving from the bin to the curb or disposal area.

Streamlined Recycling Processes:

Garbage bags streamline the recycling process in facilities that process recyclables. Their robust construction allows for the efficient transportation of sorted recyclables without the risk of bag breakage, ultimately contributing to a more efficient and sustainable waste management system.

Heavy-duty garbage bags prove indispensable in waste management, providing many benefits beyond their apparent strength. From enhanced durability to advanced odour control and eco-friendly options, these bags are evolving to meet the diverse needs of modern consumers while contributing to more efficient and responsible waste disposal practices.

[elonline]

5 Benefits of Using Heavy Duty Garbage Bags

Are you looking for ways to reduce your ecological impact? If so, you will be happy to know that using heavy-duty garbage bags is one of the best ways to do just that. Not only are these bags more environmentally friendly, but they also have a number of other benefits that you may not have realised. Heavy-duty garbage bags make it possible to move or get rid of large, heavy objects more easily, and they are also less likely to tear or rip when you pick them up. In this article, we'll discuss five of the most noteworthy benefits of using heavy-duty garbage bags. So read on and see for yourself!

Increases Safety

When you use heavy-duty garbage bags, you are more likely to avoid accidents. Not only are these bags much stronger than regular garbage bags, but they also tend to hold up better when being handled or transported. This means that you will be less likely to cause damage when trying to move large objects or pick them up quickly. Hospitals and clinics are often able to save lives by using these bags when dealing with accidents.

Reduces Waste Going Into the Landfills

One of the biggest concerns that many people have about environmentalism is our impact on landfills. By using heavy-duty garbage bags, you can help reduce your impact on this issue tremendously. Not only are these bags less likely to tear or rip, but they also take up a lot less space in landfills than regular garbage bags do. This means that you will be doing your part not just for the environment, but for humanity as well!

Helps Reduce Noise and Smell

Garbage often generates a lot of noise and odours when it is being handled or transported. By using heavy-duty garbage bags, you can help to reduce these noises and smells. Not only that, but these bags also tend to keep liquids inside the bag until they are disposed of properly. This means that there will be less mess created when disposing of liquid waste, which is always a concern in environmentally friendly households.

Helps You Save Money on Your Monthly Bills

One of the biggest expenses for most people is their monthly trash bill. By using heavy-duty garbage bags, you can help to reduce your monthly bills by reducing the amount of trash that goes into the landfill. Not only that, but these bags are also much stronger and more durable than regular garbage bags. This means that they will hold up longer in the event of a mishap or accident.

Helps You Keep Your Home Clean and Organised

Not only do these bags resist tears and rips when being handled, but they also tend to keep debris and dirt inside the bag until it is disposed of. This means that you won’t have to constantly clean up messy garbage piles in your home, and you will also be able to save time by not having to search for stray pieces of trash.

So if you are looking for an environmentally friendly option when it comes to garbage disposal, heavy-duty garbage bags may be the perfect solution for you!

[pharmpak]

Five Benefits of Using Heavy-Duty Garbage Bags You Need to Know

Using heavy-duty garbage bags plays an essential role in our lives because it provides a convenient and efficient way to dispose of waste. These bags are designed to handle heavy loads, resist tearing, and prevent leaks. This article will discuss the benefits of using heavy-duty garbage bags.

Heavy-duty garbage bags are made to withstand heavy loads and handling, making them perfect for households and businesses. These bags are made up of strong and thicker material, which can make them more durable and less likely to tear. This strength helps prevent leaks that don't create any mess. Also, make it easier to transport and dispose of garbage. 

Heavy-duty garbage bags are available in small, medium, large, and extra-large sizes. This size availability makes it easy for users to choose the right size for their needs. 

Cost-Effective 

This is also an essential tip for choosing heavy-duty garbage bags. This can be a little more expensive than regular garbage bags, but it can save you from the risk of spills and tears. Sometimes garbage bags tear, then require an additional bag to contain the waste, increasing expenses and creating a mess. 

This problem is solved by using heavy-duty garbage bags, as it is a cost-effective solution for businesses and households. To reduce the cost effect, you can buy garbage bags in bulk.

Environment-Friendly Option

Heavy-duty garbage bags are a better economically friendly option than regular garbage bags. These bags are made up of a material that breaks down waste naturally over time.  

Using environment-friendly bags can also assist in promoting sustainability by reducing the overall impact of waste disposal. Users can further lessen their environmental impact by selecting the right bag for use, like compostable bags for food waste.

Versatility and Convenience 

Heavy-duty garbage bags are very versatile and convenient. We can use heavy-duty bags in offices, homes, and outside environments. The user who wants a quick and easy option to dispose of waste, it can be a convenient option for them. More than that, heavy-duty garbage bags are also used in cars, recycling and small bins. The versatility and convenience make it a more reliable and easy solution for waste management.

Improve Hygienic Safety 

Heavy-duty bags are made of material, so there is less risk of tear and spill. Pharmpak also provides hygiene and safety for contained waste. These bags also reduce the risk of contamination and reduce the spread of diseases. Black bags are primarily used in public spaces like parks and streets. 

In The End

Heavy-duty garbage bags provide many benefits for a user looking for a reliable and efficient disposal method. Heavy-duty garbage bags provide a proper waste management solution because of their strength, durability, affordability, and sustainability. Users can improve hygiene and safety by using these bags while reducing their environmental footprint. We urge readers to convert to heavy-duty rubbish bags to enhance the environment and their daily life. Users can improve hygiene and safety by using these bags while reducing their environmental footprint.

[haikyu-mp4]

Classroom duty

word count; 1317 – f!reader

Iwaizumi was on classroom duty this week and he used to hate that. It meant that he got to volleyball practice late and didn’t even have time for a healthy snack. In addition, he had to make some kind of small talk with whoever he was paired with. It goes by the pairs in which the desks are placed and he was never the best at socialising outside of the athletic world.

However, classroom duty wasn’t so bad this time around, because ever since last break, he was paired up with you. Iwa didn’t notice you that much before, he just knew you were bright and kind. And of course, he couldn’t deny to the universe that you were nice to look at, but he would still keep trying to deny it to his friends. 

He knew he was fond of you. You with the cartoonish drawings of the teacher on the sides of your notes so you could make him smile in class. You with the lipgloss that looked like it might not taste good, despite how it made your lips look so biteable. You with the evil little laugh every time your paper ball would hit the trash and his didn’t. Yeah, Hajime Iwaizumi was very fond of you.

“Iwa?”

“Sorry,” he shook his head and chuckled awkwardly, glancing around at the pristine classroom. “What did you say?”

You snorted a laugh and turned around pointing to the garbage bags collected by the door and ready to be thrown away. “I said, let’s go?” Hajime spurred into action, happily finishing up here and putting those muscles to good use.

Usually, there was this thing where the people on classroom duty did rock paper scissors for who took the trash, letting the other off. No one knows who started it, but it stuck. Oikawa seemed to believe you and Hajime were the only ones who didn’t follow tradition.

“Why does she even go with you when all she does is hold up the lid on the trash can while you do all the heavy lifting?” Oikawa complained now that his best friend was finally back in his volleyball uniform. Some might say he was jealous.

Iwaizumi shrugged, about to answer when someone else did from behind him, making him turn around and causing Oikawa to lift a brow at the interruption.

“Sounds like she likes you.”

“Mad dog?” Oikawa exclaimed dramatically with a gasp. Kyotani glared at the setter.

“No, we just do it that way, you know?“ Iwaizumi said, sounding a bit like he was fishing to hear it again. Hear that you might like him.

“Okay, whatever,” Kyotani grumbled. Charming as ever. His two per cent of extra respect for Iwaizumi went into that effort and now it was spent.

They went back to practice, and Oikawa forgot about the interrupted gossip as soon as the practice game started, leaving Iwaizumi to mull this over himself. When this week was over, would you stop talking to him so much?

The next morning, you’re both there early to prepare the classroom, and Iwaizumi greeted you with a shy nod. “Last day!” you cheered. Iwaizumi’s eyes followed you for a few seconds as you skipped over to the teacher’s desk, where you picked up the note left by the teacher and then walked over to the chalkboard to prepare it. He liked how you were always so bright, even as you had to be there earlier than everyone else. And then he was happy to see you weren’t invincible, when you looked a little more tired in the evening while walking out with the trash, stubborn smile still directed at him like you refused to give up.

But for now, it’s still morning. “You sound excited, any plans this weekend?” he asked, leaving the mop in the corner after mopping the floors. Then he strolled up beside you, picking up the sponge to go wet it. You turned to glance at him exactly when he turned away. Maybe he’ll ask me out if I say no?

“Not much. Just happy it’s the last day we have to do these chores,” you said, seemingly carefree in adding little hearts and stars around what the teacher wanted. It made Iwa smile as he placed the wet sponge on the little edge beneath the chalkboard.

Wait, she’s happy we’re done? Maybe Kyotani is totally clueless. “Oh,” he said, not meaning to. “Me too.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” you teased, putting the chalk down and turning to him. “You like taking the trash out?”

“Maybe…” he said defensively, clenching his fists and then unclenching them again. “I like hanging out with you.” There, at least he said something.

“Iwaizumi…” He looked at you hopefully but glanced away quickly when he realised his face was burning. “You know we still sit beside each other when the week is finished, right? It’s not like I’ll stop talking to you.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, embarrassment sinking into every nerve of his body because he hadn’t much thought about that. “Of course,” he said first like it was instinctual. I just like hanging out with you alone. That’s what he should have said. Instead, he stuttered out meaningless sounds for a second before the bell rang and students started rushing to their seats, meaning you had to move too.

Oikawa sighed from the entrance to the classroom, in absolute disbelief at how his best friend, the ace of all aces, in his opinion, could fumble so badly for a girl.

“Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi closed his eyes at the agitating, grating voice that interrupted his peaceful lunch on a bench outside in the sun.

“Shittykawa.”

“Hey! I’m here to help you.” He sat down beside his best friend, opening his bento and stuffing some food in his mouth. Iwaizumi was chewing slowly and waiting to hear more with a disinterested look on his face.

“With?”

“Your love life.”

Oikawa went on a rant about grand gestures, making some very grand gestures himself while explaining, and Iwa could just not figure out why the girls swooned for him when he looked so stupidly invested in his stupid plan for his stupid love life.

“Are you even listening?” Oikawa asked, angrily stuffing another spoonful of food into his mouth.

“Absolutely not. I will not be renting a horse and armour.” And even though that was evidence he had in fact listened, Oikawa was not pleased that his best friend didn’t seem to understand what an expert in love he was. “She’s probably not even interested.”

“Iwa!” Another voice said, making him turn around and almost knock over the water bottle beside his bento.

“That you listen to.” Oikawa mocked from his side, but anything he said went in one ear and out the other once again, when his eyes fell on you.

“Hey,” Hajime greeted you, somewhat awkwardly as you hadn’t chatted much outside the classroom or on the way to the trash containers. “What’s up?”

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” you asked, your words sharing space with a sigh as you had jogged over.

“He’s not,” Oikawa answered, and while that would normally make him annoyed, he just repeated it while still looking at you.

“I’m not.”

“Maybe we can go out for some ice cream? Or a coffee?” you asked further, and it was obvious that you were nervous despite trying to seem confident, not smiling like you usually did. He didn’t answer right away, so you involuntarily went into a word vomit. “I was waiting for you to ask, but then you didn’t and if you’re not interested then we can just forget this, but…” You stopped and looked at him hopefully, one hand on either hip.

“Take him, please.”

Iwaizumi didn’t even need to look to plant his hand over Oikawa’s face before giving you an endearing smile. “I’m interested. Coffee sounds perfect.”

masterlist

/a special thanks to @cottonlemonade for helping me with my writer's block for this one

[knickynoo]

McFly July Day 7: Back in Town

Lone Pine timeline

“Alright, I’d say this one’s about done.” Doc hefted the cardboard box into his arms to check its weight, nodded, then set it back down. “Yep. Additional tools can go into this one.” He nudged an empty box with his shoe.

Marty sifted through the pile on the floor, looking for anything in decent enough shape to warrant packing it up and sending over to Doc’s new house. They’d been at it all morning- picking their way through the cluttered garage, consolidating the essentials into boxes and bins and bags. Everything deemed junk was promptly tossed into heavy duty garbage bags, and the stuff in the middle—non-essential but not quite junk—would be left as is.

He was glad that Doc was keeping the garage. A “vacation home” his friend had said with a laugh.

Still, it was hard to reconcile that the small place would now spend the majority of its time empty. No longer filled with the bustling activity of a scientist, a boy, and a dog.

“I wish you could be closer, Doc.”

Doc paused in his fight with a pile of tangled extension cords. His gaze swept the room before landing on Marty. “I wish I could be closer too,” he said with a sigh. “But with Clara and the boys…I have to think of them. It’s safer to start somewhere fresh than bring them here where people will ask questions.”

“Yeah, I know.”

It all made sense to Marty, really, and he was just glad Doc had decided to permanently move back to the present day. What did an hour’s drive compare to the hundred years that previously separated them? This was reason to celebrate, not mourn.

Marty tossed a wrench into the box, then looked up when he felt Doc’s eyes on him. “What?”

“It’s not an ideal situation, is it? For either of us. What with you still adjusting to so much change at home and myself—” Doc cleared his throat. “—Myself having missed you for all those years I was living in the Old West.”

The sensation of feeling like a foreigner in this new timeline was something Marty had no chance of ignoring, but the near decade of life Doc had lived while building the time train was something he’d worked hard to push to the recesses of his mind. After all, he’d seen Doc less than an hour after making the return trip to 1985; how could it have been almost ten years since Doc had seen him? How could he have lived so much life—married and had two children and become so comfortable in the 1800s?

Thinking about it too long made him feel a little sick.

“Do you want to pack this up, Doc?” he asked, waving a hammer through the air. “The handle’s got a chip in it, but it’s fine other than that.”

There was no response to his question, and he set it into the box as Doc crouched beside him. Marty sensed a speech of some sort coming—a pep talk that he really wasn’t in the mood to hear. But instead, Doc said, “Let’s take a break from all this. Go next door and get some burgers.”

Marty looked at the mess, then took note of his empty stomach. He rose to his feet and dusted off the knees of his jeans with his palms. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that. I might need two burgers if we’re gonna try to squeeze in a couple more hours of packing after.”

“Two burgers and a pile of fries,” Doc declared, straightening back up. “Though I’d say we’ve made excellent progress already, so we don’t have to rush right back to this. In fact, why don’t we take a trip to get some paint samples after lunch? You can pick out a color for your room.”

The suggestion quickly worked to brighten Marty’s mood. “Cool. Let’s get moving, Doc. And hey, maybe we can think of something else to do after picking up the paint—put off the cleaning and packing even more.”

Doc chuckled and grabbed his wallet from an end table. “Yes, I'm sure we can come up with something. Besides”—He waved his hands toward the destruction caused by the overpowered amp, which they’d managed to consolidate into one giant heap in the corner of the room—“I don’t even know how to begin tackling all that.”

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance: The Outtakes - Rekindled

Word count: 12.8k

Pairings: Sam x OC

Warnings: Alcohol, Smoking, Cursing, Mentions of Sickness, Death, Heartbreak, Abandonment, Dramatic Themes, Angst, Fluff, Smut Including: Kissing, Making Out, Touching, Fingering, Digital Penetration, Praise, Unprotected Sex.

A/N: Hey! Welcome to Vigilance: The Outtakes! Not everything can make the cut, right? These outtakes will be snippets of things that we cut from the original story during the editing process, but are still important to the overall storyline and may even provide a bit of background information on previously mentioned plots, characters and themes. These outtakes will not be posted on a schedule, but will be released as we see fit. Keep your eyes peeled you won't want to miss these!

SAM POV

AUGUST 2017

“We did it boys…” Danny said, flopping down into the chair in the makeshift greenroom. 

“Finally a fucking week off…what’s it been? Two months?” Jake says, popping the lid off of his beer. 

“Yeah, two months.” you reply, sitting down on the worn leather couch. You were still sweating from your set, your heart still racing and the adrenaline still coursing through your system. The last show of your two month long run across the East. Tonight you’d leave Atlanta and head home for a much needed break.

Luckily tonight the set was just a handful of songs, and you knew them like the back of your hand, in fact, you could probably play them in your sleep. 

“Then what?” Danny asks. 

“Then we start back again, hit the West. Be gone until we come home for Christmas I guess.” Josh replies.

Shit. A week off? That’s it?

Seconds later a man walks through the door and nods, “Good show boys, gotta clear this room for the next act. Make sure one of you sees the bartender for your payout.” he says, and just as quickly he is gone. 

“Damn, really getting the royal treatment.” Josh says. 

“I’ll start loading up, Danny, you want to help me?” Jake asks.

“Yeah, Sam, you got clean up?” he asks.

“Sure.” you agree.

As they all file out of the small room you begin collecting up trash, empty cans and bottles into a grocery bag you found on the table. You had spent all of about two hours in here. How you had amassed such a large amount of garbage was a mystery. 

Once you had all of the trash collected you set it on a table and began moving the chairs and furniture around, repositioning everything how you found it when you got there. You made your way over to your bass, locking it securely into its case, and setting it by the door for Jake and Danny. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you looked up from your duties as you pulled it from your pocket. 

Y/N

10:38pm: Yeah! Classes are going so good! I made some new friends! Miss you! Where are you guys even at?

Of course. You’d asked her that four days ago. Four. 

You shook your head and shoved it back into your pocket snatching the bag of trash off the table to take to the dumpster.

It was hot outside, and the air was so humid you felt like you were practically swimming. If you weren’t already sweating, you were now. The streets were busy with people walking from bar to bar down the bustling strip. 

You walked around to the back of the bar, spotting the dumpster in the alleyway, near where Jake and Danny were loading the van.

As you stepped up to it you noticed, there were actually two dumpsters, one trash, and one recycling. You smiled to yourself and began sorting the trash from the bag in your hand, tossing the cans into the blue dumpster.

As you were about to walk off, a side door opened, and a girl in a pair of black denim overalls stepped out, hauling a black trash can behind her. Her face was covered by a mess of brown curls tied up into a messy bun. You watched her struggle to pull the obviously heavy can towards the dumpster, as she fought with the yellow rubber gloves on her hands. 

“Here, let me help you.” you offered, watching her head snap in your direction. 

She looked up at you, her eyes as big as the moon overhead. “Oh. Oh, sorry. No. It’s okay. I’ve got it. Just full of liquid I think.” she said, dragging it towards you.

“It’s really no big deal…” you offered again, stepping towards her. 

“Just help me drag it over?” she asks. 

You nod, and grab the handle, pulling it to the dumpster with ease. 

“Thanks. How embarrassing.” she said, a blush creeping over her face. A small dimple formed in her cheeks as she tried to stifle the smile on her lips.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’m sure that thing is full of half drank beers and glass bottles.” you said, trying to cheer her up. 

“You were playing, a little while ago…” she said, starting to throw bottles into the dumpster.

“Yeah, I was. Did you catch our set?” you asked nervously.

“Yeah, I mean sort of, I was collecting trash but I heard you guys, caught the end for sure.” she answered, a small flutter gliding through your chest. 

“What did you think? Did you… enjoy it?” you asked, completely unsure if you wanted to hear her answer.

Even in the dark light of the alleyway you could see how pretty she was. A tingle in your chest caught you by surprise. You hadn’t felt it in years. 

“Yeah! You guys were alright.” she admits.

“Oh. Yeah, well, this is our last stop for a bit. We are a little burnt out, kinda ready for a break.” you say, trying to seem like it didn’t hurt you just a little. 

A smirk crossed her lips, “I’m Elle. Well, Eleanor, but my friends call me Elle.”

“Are we friends?” you ask playfully.

“I think we could be.” she smiles, hauling the heavy bag out of the can. “This is typically the part where you tell me your name.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, I’m Sam.” you laugh.

“Well Sam, what’s your band called?” she asks. 

Oh god, don’t ask…

You swallow nervously, “Greta Van Fleet?” you answer.

“Is that a question?” she asks.

“No. You’re right. Greta Van Fleet is the name of our band.” You answer confidently.

“Okay Sam of Greta Van Fleet, where do you guys live?” she asks.

“Michigan. Frankenmuth, Michigan.” You say, pointing to your palm. “What about you? You live here?”

“No. I actually live almost two hours from here. I’m just here for the night.” she says.

“Working in a bar?” you ask.

“Well, kind of. The bar owner gives out tickets for shows here if you volunteer to clean up after a show night. Blitzen Trapper will be here next month and I really want to go, so I figured tonight would be just as good as any.” she says.

Wow, a girl with taste.

You smile at her, watching her throw the black trash bag into the dumpster, shaking off her yellow gloves. She removes them and holds them in her fist as she turns back to you. 

“I’m really glad I picked tonight.” she smiles. 

“I’m glad you did too.” you agreed. 

“So, Sam from Greta Van Fle–”

“Sammy! Let’s go!” Jake calls out in the distance. 

Shit.

“You have to go…” she says nodding her head, grabbing the handle to the trash can.

“Yeah, we have…a long drive ahead of us.” You admit.

“A long drive, huh?” she smiles.

“Yeah, maybe I could text you?” you ask, feeling your heart pound out of your chest.

“Are you asking for my number, Sammy?” she says, mocking Jake’s words.

“Yeah, I think I need it.” you reply, probably putting your feelings out there a bit too much.

She smiles and reaches out her hand, as you pull your phone from your pocket. You hand it to her, and watch her type away, her eyes sparkling in the light of your phone. 

“There. I sent myself a message so I’d have yours too.” she says, handing your phone back to you. 

You glance down and a smile sneaks out seeing her name across your screen. Eleanor, with a small white heart.

 “Perfect. I need to go before they leave me here. And yes, they definitely would leave me if you’re wondering.” you laugh.

“Okay, well you better go…I hope I hear from you, Sam of Greta Van Fleet.” she smiles.

“You will, Eleanor of… two hours away from here.” you laugh. 

You put your phone in your pocket and start to walk away, heart racing as your mind tumbles though a thousand different scenarios.

“Sam, wait!” she calls. 

You turn on your heels, looking over your shoulder at your brothers, starting the van. 

“You… you sounded really good. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you all night.” she admits, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

“Really?” you ask, the thought falling from your lips before you could catch it.

She nods, “This is going to sound crazy, I know we just met by a dumpster and I probably reek, but I just…I feel like I want to kiss you.” she says.

“Me?” you ask, completely shocked.

“Yeah…” she smiles, her dimple showing again.

“For the record, Elle, even covered in trash juice, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen in a long time. And I want to kiss you too.” you reply.

You grabbed her hand and pulled her towards you, letting your hand glide up to her chin, as the two of you drifted towards each other, before pressing your lips together. Your hand cupped her face as you felt her soft lips against yours, sending a shock through your body. Her hand rested on your stomach as you kissed her back, slow and soft, if only just this once. 

You pulled away from her, eyes completely blown out with lust, as you removed your hand from her smiling face. 

“I’ll see you Sam…” she said, shoving her gloves into her back pocket, lugging the trash can through the door behind her. 

You stood there as the door shut, mind spinning from the kiss you could still feel on your lips. Who was this woman? What had she done to you?

“Two seconds asshole!” Jake yelled from the driver's seat.

You ran over to the van, sliding in next to Daniel in the back, still thinking of her. You pulled your phone from your pocket and immediately went to her message. 

You

11:13pm: Sam

Should you message her again, or should you wait to hear from her? You wiped your sweaty hands on your jeans, bouncing your leg up and down as you tried to weigh your options. 

“What’s got you all worked up?” Danny asks, scrolling through his phone.

You let out a sigh, “Nothing I just…I just met the coolest girl.”

“A girl?” he asks, looking over to you.

“Yeah, throwing trash in the dumpster.” you smile.

“Romantic…” he smirks.

“It kind of was…” you admit.

“Whatever, might as well forget her. You’ll never see her again.” he laughs.

No. You knew you would. But you couldn’t say that. That sounds crazy. Right?

After a few more minutes of nervously switching between apps on your phone you opened your thread with her, and began to type.

You

11:34pm: Too soon?

Eleanor🤍

11:39pm: What took you so long?

—

From that point on the two of you were practically inseparable, well, not physically. You would spend most of your time talking to her. Texting, calling, anything you could. The more you got to know her the more you realized how similar the two of you were. She told you about her hometown, a place similar to your home. She told you about her family, just her and her dad. She told you about her hopes and dreams and you told her yours. She encouraged you and believed in you, eventually admitting she watched your entire set that night, barely able to drag her eyes away from you. 

Elle was the beacon of light you didn’t know you were looking for. Finding you at a time in life where you felt stagnant. As the tour continued through the fall the two of you grew closer, eventually deciding to see each other again as soon as possible. That time would come around Christmas, when you’d convinced her to come to Frankenmuth. She met your family and your friends, all who welcomed her with open arms. How could they not? 

To say the two of you were nervous would be an understatement, but the moment you saw each other it was like everything clicked into place. All the hours spent talking to each other, learning everything there was to know about each other, all had a meaning. A purpose. 

When summer rolled around she decided to stay for the season, taking a job at a local boutique and crashing with you. You spent your days busy working, and your nights wrapped up in each other. Your life felt like it was finally falling into place. You couldn’t imagine a day without her in it, and frankly you didn’t want to. 

A year later, when the time came to move to Nashville, she decided to move with you, packing up her life in Georgia and moving to what she referred to as ‘the big city’. She had her conditions though, opting for her own apartment a few blocks from your house. Though the two of you spent practically every night together, she felt happy having her own space, and who were you to take that away from her?

You remember that summer, the first time you told her you loved her, sitting in your backyard, watching the fireflies buzz around in the bushes. She watched them in awe, talking about her childhood and chasing them near the lake. You still aren't sure if it was the heat or the alcohol, but the words tumbled from your lips and you made no effort to stop them. You did love her. You think you may have even loved her that first night you kissed her. Through the years it became more and more clear to you that you couldn’t live without her, and maybe you weren’t supposed to. It hadn’t been an easy road but it was one she wanted to travel with you.

—

SEPTEMBER 2020

“Alright guys, let’s take a break. I gotta piss and I need a drink.” Danny said, standing up from his kit.

You slung the strap over your head, setting your bass into the stand before bounding up the stairs after Daniel. It had been a long week practicing nonstop. Tucking yourselves away in the foothills of the mountains, where the fog rolled in around 7pm. You spent days strategizing, writing, even arguing, but making magic nonetheless. 

After a morning spent in the sun shooting visuals for the single release, you promised to lock yourselves inside the basement for the rest of the night, hammering out a few final details for one of the tracks. 

There were pro’s and con’s to not being able to tour. But as of recently, you’d only been seeing the con’s. At least that’s how it felt. You weren’t able to travel at all, and mentally you felt it was taking a bit of a toll on you. You liked to fill your days traveling city to city, and country to country. Truth be told it's all you’d ever really known. So when you were parked in Nashville indefinitely, it brought all of your lives to a screeching halt. 

You sipped a seltzer on the stiff leather couch, placed peculiarly in the living room of the cabin, watching as Josh and Jake argued over the difference between a Hazy IPA and a Juicy IPA, stating ‘not all hazy’s are juicy, and not all juicy’s are hazy’. Regardless they both did the job of numbing your mind to the persistent bickering of your twin brothers.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, causing your eyebrows to raise, seeing as how you hadn’t had proper cell phone reception in nearly two full days. You pulled it from your pocket, and swallowed nervously as you read the name on the screen.

Eleanor🤍

10:25pm: Hey, just wanted to let you know that Dad passed away the day before yesterday. He went peacefully. I held his hand all the way through...hospice was here to make it a little less painful. His funeral is this Friday. 

Eleanor🤍

10:27pm: Sam, I’m not coming back to Nashville. I need some time. I’ve gotta get my feet back on the ground and figure things out. I hope you understand. Thank you for everything you did for me, and for my dad. I know he appreciated you all the way up until the end. Please, don’t respond to this, just know that you were one of the greatest parts of my life. 

You stared at the phone in your hand while the guys continued to talk in the kitchen.  You settled forward with your elbows on your knees as the news hit you. 

You sat there, completely dumbfounded and unable to form a thought. He died two days ago? Why hadn’t she said anything? 

She was completely alone, she was there with him when it happened. She has nobody to lean on. No one to cry to. What does she mean she’s not coming back to you? Is she leaving you? Is it over?

You knew you hadn’t seen Elle in a few weeks; she decided with her dad being so sick, it was best to stay away from each other for a while so as not to bring any unforeseen illness around him. She left you with a kiss and a see you soon, and you believed her. You understood. You agreed. You agreed with the unspoken condition that she would be back. But now?

You dropped your phone to the floor beside you, letting your head fall into your hands.  

“Sam?” Danny said, walking over to your side. Jake and Josh followed closely behind, as they all stood around you. 

“What Sammy boy, you okay?” Jake asked. 

You kicked your phone to his feet, eyes barely catching his movement as he bent down to retrieve it.

“What? What does it say?” Danny urges.

“Fuck.” he says, blowing out a breath, “Elle’s dad died two days ago. She’s not coming back.”

—

LATE JUNE 2021

You never thought you’d find yourself in this position. After Elle left you were a little unsure if you could ever even feel like that for another person again. It took you months to pull yourself out of the depression you were in. Spending night after night wondering where she was, and what she was doing. How she was doing. Texts went unanswered, phone calls straight to voicemail. It was the worst you had felt in your life, and you didn’t know how to snap out of it. 

Throwing yourself into the production aspect of the new album, you nitpicked and critiqued every last detail until you felt it was perfect. Essentially it was. You and Josh would spend nearly every night listening to the album start to finish, picking out things to tweak the following day. Eventually both of you ran out of fixes. Those nights spent with Josh were the most helpful. Letting him talk to you in a way that only he could. Explaining things in the way only he can. Slowly you came around, meeting Daniel for dinner, or Jake for drinks. Going for  a walk through the park with Josh. Every day started to get easier and easier until you woke up one morning and the hurt you were harboring was so small, you couldn’t feel it anymore.

A few weeks later you walked into a bar to meet the guys, and left with the last person you’d ever expected. A person who held a piece of your heart you weren’t sure you’d ever see again. Suddenly though, you took hold of a piece of hers, and you would be damned if you were ever going to let it go. 

Things had changed. She had changed. But she was also the same girl you remember, sitting next to you on your living room floor, pencil behind her ear as she drug her pink highlighter through a history textbook. The girl who slow danced with you at prom to a song that has lived in your head ever since and for the first time in a long time Elle was not a thought in your mind. 

—

You

1:37pm: Hey there sunshine! Question…

Y/N

1:41pm: Hey babe! Yes? 

You

1:41pm: We made plans to go home for the fourth, would you like to go? 

Y/N

1:45pm: Actually, I am already going back! Told my parents a few weeks ago I would be home.

You

1:47pm: Well perfect! We’ll be going to the lake, you’re invited obviously. I’ll let you know what time.

Y/N

1:50pm: You sure that’s okay? 

You

1:51pm: Positive. Get some rest tonight, I’ll see you when we get there.

Y/N

1:52pm: Safe travels!

—

“Moooooom! We’re hoooome!” Josh called through the house as you followed behind, lugging bags and boxes of fireworks. 

“My babies!” she cried as she came bounding towards the door, taking you both in her embrace. 

“I’m so happy you’re all going to be here! How long are you staying?” She asked, taking the bags from your hands. 

“Just a few days, Ma. We’re actually busy touring rockstars, did you forget?” you said, finally able to pull your sunglasses to the top of your head and close the door behind you.

It always felt so good stepping through the front door of your home, no matter how many times you’d done it. The familiar sound of the echoes of your voices bouncing off the walls, the smell of the home itself, and the instant feeling of comfort enveloping you, no matter how long it had been. 

You and Josh had spent most of the evening stocking up for the lake the next day, visiting two or three stores to get plenty of beer and snacks for the long day on the water. 

“Should we get mortars or bottle rockets?” you ask, standing back and looking at all of the choices on the shelves. 

“Uh, fuckin’ both? Whoa, look at this!” Josh replied, picking up a giant box filled with a mixture of a bunch of different fireworks. He was like a kid in a candy store, filling up the basket with tons of boxes while you followed along through the aisles. 

“Think this is enough beer? What is Danny even drinking these days?” Josh asked as you continued perusing. 

“I don’t think he gives a shit as long as it gets him drunk.” You replied as you picked up two cases of seltzers, and some white claw for Y/N. 

Speaking of…

You pulled your phone from your pocket to text Y/N, but instead found a text from a contact that you hadn’t seen in ages. 

Elle? 

Her contact in your phone still had a heart next to it. You couldn’t ever bring yourself to take it off. As you blinked a few times to make sure you were reading right, your heart dropped. It’s been almost a year since she’s contacted you. Since the day of her last text, she hasn’t even so much as sent you an ‘I’m ok’ message. No updates on her social media, nothing. Silence. After you spent weeks messaging her and calling her, you finally got the picture and gave up. So to see her name now on your screen, came as a bit of a shock. Your finger slowly and nervously opened the message. 

Eleanor🤍

5:17pm: Hey Sam, it’s Elle. Not sure if you had my number still saved or not.

Strange. 

You looked up from your phone to find Josh still trying to pick out his alcohol for the weekend. You were blindsided. You didn’t know what to say. Should you text her back at all? You were kind of upset with her for not giving you a good reason for ending things that you spent years building with her. 

You knew she was going through an extremely rough time, but the two of you were serious, you thought at least. You wanted to be there for her, help her through the good and the bad, but she left without even a word. She abandoned a relationship that you thought was growing, right at the time that was going to make or break everything. 

You slid the message closed, and opened your texts with Y/N. 

You

5:21pm: We made it. Stocking up on stuff for tomorrow. Let me know when you get to your parents! 

You

5:22pm: PS…don’t know where we’re going to be able to sneak off to this weekend, but I’m sure we could find somewhere ;) 

Y/N

5:24pm: I’m not far, maybe an hour or so. And I’m sure we’ll be able to find somewhere. You’re telling me you don’t have any old spots you used to take your girlfriends? 

You smiled, thinking back in time. You did have a few spots, but they were kind of, less than comfortable. But Y/N didn’t seem to really care about that kind of thing. You stowed away a few ideas in the back of your head, and urged Josh to hurry it up. 

You

5:36pm: Hmm, I’ve got a few places in mind. See you soon!

The entire ride home, you wracked your brain searching for something to say back to Elle. Should you answer at all? Of course you should. You didn’t want to be rude. She wouldn’t be reaching out for no reason. 

You and Josh unloaded the car, sticking all the alcohol into the fridge for the next day, and packing up snacks in coolers. You knew Josh would want to be out the door first thing in the morning, and packing tonight would let you sleep a tiny bit longer in the morning.

Finally you got the gumption to just do it. You felt anxious for some reason, to even bring up her name on your phone. She held such a special place in your heart for so long, it made your stomach do flips when you thought about texting her back. Y/N would be here early in the morning, so just saying hey to Elle shouldn’t hurt, right?

You brought up her text from earlier, figuring you let it marinate long enough. You plopped down in a chair at the kitchen island, your thumbs flitting over the keyboard as you thought of what to say. 

You

6:48pm: Hey, Elle. Of course I still have your number. How are you?

There, that was easy. Light and simple. You huffed a cleansing breath. The seconds ticked by as you waited for her text bubble to pop up, your heart racing. 

A smile crossed your face at the sight of the tiny gray bubble.There it is. 

Eleanor🤍

6:50pm: I’m okay, just keeping myself busy. How have you been? 

The conversation went on candidly and platonically, just catching up with one another as you brought her up to date on your life, and she with her own. She told you that she was working two jobs, one at a daycare facility, and the other waiting tables at a restaurant in the evenings. She explained how she made great money at both places, and was happy spending most of her days with young children, teaching them and playing with them. 

You

7:18pm: Have you kept up with the band?

Eleanor🤍

7:20pm: Of course I have, you guys seem to really be making it big! Do you have any plans for anything new coming up?

You grinned, she has no idea. 

You

7:21pm: Actually, yeah, we do. It’s in the works now, it’s probably our best work yet, honestly. 

Eleanor🤍

7:23pm: Well, I’m very excited to hear it :)

Your conversation with Elle went on for hours, the two of you talking so easily, just like old times. You asked about her dad, and how everything had gone after he passed. You didn’t want to be too forward, but you also didn’t want to be rude and not ask. She let you know that he’d left her the house and a few other things, which wasn’t much, but he left her comfortable; she really didn’t need to work. 

Eleanor🤍

9:15pm: Any plans for the Fourth?

You

9:16pm: Yeah! We’re actually back home in Michigan right now, gonna head to the lake tomorrow to spend the day drinking way too much and getting sunburned. You?

Eleanor🤍

9:18pm: That sounds like a great time. I’ll be working, but our boss promised to close up before dark so we could all watch fireworks together. I’ll probably just hang out with some friends. 

The question crossed your mind, but slipped away as soon as it came. Should you ask? Is it too forward? You took a swig of the beer you’d allowed to get warm from sitting between your knees. Ah, fuck it. 

You

9:20pm: Sounds fun. No one special in your life to watch fireworks with?

Vague. Basic. 

Eleanor🤍

9:21pm: No, no one special right now.

Your stomach flipped. Why did that make you anxious? You felt a tiny bit of giddiness sneak up. 

Eleanor🤍

9:22pm: What about you? 

Shit. How do you answer this…

You

9:24pm: Nothing serious, no.

That will have to do. You didn’t lie…

You’d retreated to the couch, sprawling out and drifting in and out of sleep as Josh flipped through channels of old movies and spaghetti westerns. About that time you heard the front door open, and Jake’s familiar quiet tone ring out through the house. 

"You made it, huh?" Josh asked, standing up from the chair.

“By the grace of God…” he joked. He walked a little further inside the house, you knew it had been some time since he’d been here. He probably felt strange. 

“This place looks...”

"The exact same? I know, it's weird isn't it?” You said, finishing his sentence. 

"Yeah.” He said, dropping his bag. "Is Mom awake?"

“I think so, I think she's in the basement. Dad is finishing a gig." Josh answers.

You watched as he rounded the corner and descended the stairs, followed by your mom’s hearty half-yell at seeing Jake coming down to greet her. You glanced to Josh, and the two of you shared a wide smile and a chuckle, her voice music to your ears. 

With your brother finally home safe, you let your eyes drift closed, feeling peaceful in your true home, knowing Y/N would be here early in the morning to surprise the family. And that an old flame had decided to reach out once more and say hello.

——

You must’ve gone up to bed at some point during the night, not having much memory due to how tired you were from traveling. You also must’ve fallen asleep with your phone on your pillow, as it’s incessant buzzing woke you from your slumber. You cocked your head and peeped one eye open, seeing four texts from Y/N. You slid your finger across the notification and blinked rapidly to clear your vision. 

Y/N

8:27am: Wakey wakey! I’m heading over in 10.

Y/N

8:32am: Helloooo…Sam..I thought you set an alarm

Y/N

8:39am: Do you want a coffee? I’m stopping

Y/N

8:51am: Fine, no coffee for you. I’m almost there. 

You smiled at her discourse, feeling excited that you got to see her today. You hit the call button, waiting to hear her voice. 

“Good morning starshine! The earth says hello!” She burst out, her voice light and chipper. 

You laughed, the sound of her voice making your heart skip a beat. 

“Okay Willy Wonka, did you get me a coffee or not?” You asked, rolling over onto your back to stretch. 

“No, you didn’t text me back and tell me what you wanted. Sorry.” she said. 

“Geez, how rude. I haven’t seen you in days and I’m not even on your mind?” You relayed. 

“You’re always on my mind, babe. I’m in your driveway, jackass. Come get your coffee.” she quipped. 

You smiled as you hopped up from the bed, unplugged your phone and pulled on some sweatpants. You bounded down the steps to find your dad and Josh in the kitchen. You walked over to the front door, twisted the lock and stepped out onto the front porch. 

She was waltzing down the walkway, drawstring bag hanging from her shoulder, and two coffees in her hands. 

“See, I knew you were thinking of me!” You teased, earning a severe eye roll from her as she shoved it into your hand. 

“I hope you burn your tongue.” she says, cutting her eyes at you.

“Sheesh, already feisty this morning, I like it.” You said in your flirtiest tone as she entered the front door, your hand already attached to her backside before anyone could see. 

You joined your family in the kitchen as your dad made breakfast, talking and laughing and catching up on life. It was so great being at home again, and having her here, it was like you were teenagers again. 

Suddenly you heard the stairs creak, the last person to arise from his slumber. This isn’t gonna be good. You took a short breath as you prepared yourself for his wrath. 

Some light normal conversation. So far so good…But you could feel the tension building in the room as you made eye contact with Josh. His eyes widened, feeling it too. It wasn’t long before you felt the sleeve of your t-shirt being pulled, yanking you to your feet and pulling you to the next room. 

“What the fuck? What is she doing here?” Jake snapped.

“Well, I don't know if you know, but… her parents live ten minutes away. She was born here!” You answered in your most sarcastic tone. 

“Sam…” 

“Jeeze lighten up. She told her parents she would come back for the Fourth a few weeks ago. I invited her to come to the lake with us.” You answered. 

“You invited her to the lake?!” He said, trying not to yell at you. “Sam…”

“What? It will be fine…” you reassured him. 

“So you knew she was going to be here all along?” He asked.

“Mmm, more or less.” You answered. 

“And you just thought…you shouldn’t mention that to me?” he asked.

“Mmm, more or less.” You shrugged him off, no longer trying to entertain his aggravation. 

“You are on my fuckin’ list.” He said. What’s new?

You made your way back to the kitchen, quickly finishing your plate of food. 

“You ready to have some fun today?” You asked her. 

“Sure am! How ‘bout you?” She answered. 

“Hell yeah I am.” You suddenly felt the urge, being close to her again always lit a fire inside you that was extremely hard to extinguish. You leaned in close, bringing your mouth directly to her ear. 

“I’m ready to see your beautiful body soaking wet in a bikini all day. It’ll be hard to not rip it off of you right there on the beach…”

—

Everyone piled into the car one by one, ready to head to the lake. You’d asked Y/N to braid your hair like hers, so you could match. In all honesty, you just wanted her to touch you. It may be innocent, but you didn’t care. It was something. 

“You ready?” She asked, flitting her eyelashes at you. 

“Always ready for you, sweet thing.” The words slipped from your mouth before you could bite them back, knowing that they probably hit Jake in the gut. 

She took all your hair in her hands and began rubbing your scalp, brushing her nails in and lightly and dragging them in tiny circles. Shit. She knew what this did to you, teasing little thing. She pulled your hair backwards into a tight fist, and lightly jerked it back toward her. You hissed through your teeth at the slight pain. 

God damn. What is she trying to do? 

She began lightly massaging again as you felt your whole body envelop in excited tingles. 

“You’d better watch. Your. Fucking. Self.” you murmured quietly, just loud enough for her to hear.  

Your heart was racing; she knew exactly what to do to get you worked up, even if it was as simple as touching your hair. She finished up the braids, tying off the ends as you turned back to her. 

You took her chin in between your fingers, bringing her face close to yours. “God I wish we were alone in this backseat right now…” you said, and you brought her toward you for a sweet and sensual kiss. You couldn’t help yourself. Would it piss Jake off? Probably. But he’ll get over it. 

Just then, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You brought it out to find a message from Elle. You both had fallen asleep mid-conversation last night, so she was following up with an answer to your last question. 

‘Do you think we’ll ever get to see each other again?’ you’d asked her, with the tiniest bit of liquid courage and delirium from being half asleep. Your stomach dropped, seeing that she’d actually responded. 

Eleanor🤍

10:46am: I don’t know, but I really hope so :)

Your heart fell to the floor. Could this be going somewhere again? You had a lot to think about, but you truly missed Elle. There wasn’t a day that passed since the last time you’d seen her that you didn’t think about her. Her gorgeous smile, her wit, her independence…all of it felt like it was ripped away from you when she left. Right as you were falling the hardest for her. A book left unfinished. 

But, what Elle didn’t know, and what Y/N didn’t know, Jake, Daniel, Josh, or anyone but yourself…was that something had begun brewing in your psyche. Your conscience was being pulled again, reminiscent of a fierce and uncharted time in your past. Your entire mind, body, and soul were being beckoned a different direction, straight toward the girl sitting beside you in the backseat. 

But here was Elle. You hadn’t even been talking for a whole day, but you already found yourself being swept up by her charm again. So, you threw yours on, too. She wouldn’t be texting you this much for no good reason, right? What’s the harm… you and Y/N had an agreement, and you were sticking to it, though you found yourself falling for her again, you had to stick to the plan. So you lied. You could never tell her the truth. 

No feelings involved, only keeping each other physically happy for now. Best friends having fun. 

Way too much fun… 

You

10:51am: You really want to see me again?

Eleanor🤍

10:52am: Of course I do. I’ve got a lot of explaining to do…apologies to offer.

There went your stomach turning in on itself again. The giddiness of nerves from finally hearing what you’ve wanted to hear for almost a year. 

You

10:54am: Well. I’d really love to give you the chance to do just that. ;)

—-

The day went on, the heat becoming unbearable as the sun got higher in the sky. You all spent the majority of the day in the water, downing drinks and swimming until your bodies were prunes. The perfect summer day. 

Each time you’d go to grab a drink, you’d check your phone. And each time, you had a text from Elle, every one sweeter than the last. 

When it reached afternoon, Y/N had gone up to sit on the beach and read a book. You snuck peeks of her from underneath your dark sunglasses, sat comfortably on a blanket still dripping with the remnants of the water. Hair a mess, cheeks pink, completely unbothered. You felt yourself staring, biting the insides of your cheeks as you fought hard to conceal what the murky water was hiding in your shorts. After a while, you noticed your can was empty, so you went to take a second to join her. 

“Hey gorgeous. The view of you from the water is absolutely phenomenal. I really didn’t want to leave the water...” you flirted as you laid down beside her. 

“Hmm… what made it phenomenal?” She asked, lowering her sunglasses. 

“I dunno, these ties sit perfectly on your hips…” you said quietly as you tugged at them. “And this top accentuates your curves perfectly…it hardly covers anything at all. You’re barely leaving anything at all to my imagination, baby…” you trailed your fingertips all over her body, ending directly over her core. 

“I’d really love to pull this to the side…do you think they’d notice if we disappeared for a minute?” You felt yourself hardening again in your trunks, turning yourself on just by speaking to her, watching her get worked up from your words. 

“Mmm yes, they’d definitely notice.” She whispered, licking her teeth. 

“Ha…you’re right. It’s too bad…I bet this bathing suit isn’t the only thing that’s wet right now, hmm?” you asked, your lips ghosting her ear. God you wanted her, bad. Right now. But you had to push the thought away. There was still a whole day of fun to be had. 

She glanced to the woods, the car, then back to your brothers still bobbing in the lake. She sighed a heavy sigh, showing that she wanted to sneak off just as badly as you did. Chalk it up as a loss. You pulled a fresh seltzer from the cooler, offering one to her as well. You laughed to yourselves, both feeling the unending pull toward one another, and unable to act upon it. 

You retreated back to the vehicle to check your phone again and have a smoke, you needed to physically separate yourself from her before you went crazy. Plus, you noticed Y/N and Jake had begun to make eyes at one another while you were swimming. Maybe you should give them their space? 

—

As the day was coming to an end, you’d started to feel the alcohol take up shop in your body, a headache creeping its way in. Probably from too much sun, too. You’d had a blast with your brothers and Y/N, only getting a little bit careless with the fireworks. You’d talked to Elle sporadically throughout the busy day, sending cute and flirty texts every single chance you got. You were truly enjoying talking to her again. 

You’d decided to go back home early with Danny to set up a special movie night for everyone, and, honestly, to let Jake and Y/N have a little alone time. You knew they had some things to discuss, and you could tell it was eating at them both leaving things unsaid. Though it hurt you, you knew it had to happen. As much as you wanted her, she could never be yours. 

—

You’d just sat down on the couch when Y/N tumbled in the front door and across the room, immediately positioning herself close to you and draping her freezing cold legs across your lap.

“Fuckin kiss me, Y/N.” You demanded of her to be quick before your brothers made it inside. She grabbed your face, attaching her lips to yours in a quick and heated kiss as your hands dug into her sides. Her tongue buried itself in your mouth, and you let out the tiniest of moans at the contact. You needed to find that spot to sneak off to, and quickly. She detached herself, lust written all over her face. 

Just then, Jake and Josh came in, Jake making his way to the fridge for a beer. You leaned in close to whisper in Y/N’s ear. 

“I need to get you naked as soon as fuckin’ possible, you wanna go shower?” You asked her quietly. She giggled and nodded her head, the alcohol still lingering in her body. 

“I’m gonna go shower, and then we can start?” Jake asked as he popped his beer open. 

“Sounds good, I think we are gonna do the same.” You answered, earning a stern look from Jake. Oops. 

Y/N stood up from the couch. “I’m going to go get my stuff from the car. Be right back.”

Just then your phone buzzed. Another text from Elle. 

Eleanor🤍

11:27pm: Hope you had a great 4th! 

She’d attached a photo of herself posing with exploding fireworks behind her, her face gorgeous and sunkissed and her eyes shut from the bright flash. She had on a giant dark green hoodie that reached way down to her mid thighs. An old hoodie. Your hoodie. 

Your face flushed seeing that she had still kept your favorite high school jacket after all this time, and she looked absolutely gorgeous in it, still. She’d changed a bit, her hair was a little longer, and she seemed to be glowing. You stared at the photo until your screen went dark, taking in every little detail of her.  

“You ready, Sammy?” Y/N’s voice broke you from your gaze. 

“Yep, let’s go.” You responded as you followed her up the stairs, sending one last text before closing the bathroom door. 

You

11:29: Still look perfect in my clothes :)

—-

After some of the hottest quickie bathroom sex you’d ever had, you left Y/N to shower alone, and joined everyone back downstairs in the basement for the movie. 

“Not showering?” Jake asked. 

“Nah, I will later.” You replied as you typed away on your phone, continuing to text Elle. 

“What movie, Sammy? “ he asked as he sat down in his favorite spot on the other end of the couch. 

“The best 4th of July movie there is! The Sandlot!” You replied, not bringing your eyes away from the screen in your hand. You and Elle had started flirting just a bit harder. 

A few minutes later, Y/N came down the stairs, clad in a pair of your sweatpants and one of your old t-shirts. Oh, and Jake’s flannel? But hot damn, she looked sexy. Two women wearing your clothes tonight?!

You grinned to yourself at the thought as she came and sat beside you on the couch, cuddling into your side under a blanket. Her touch was still so electrifying to you, and you suppressed those pesky feelings as much as you could. Just sex. Just sex. 

After a while you stretched out, moving Y/N down the couch toward Jake a bit. You laced your fingers with hers, leaving a hand free to continue texting on the phone buzzing on your lap. 

Eleanor🤍

12:27am: I see you cut your hair!

You

12:29am: I did, do you like it?

Eleanor🤍

12:31am: I do, it’s very fitting :) What are you doing now?

You

12:34am: Sitting on the couch in the basement watching a movie with everyone. Our fourth of July tradition.

Eleanor🤍

12:36am: Oh, the couch, huh? I remember that couch…

Your face flushed in the dark. A memory flooded your mind, right when things had gotten hot and heavy with you and Elle, you’d made it back to Michigan to visit home for a couple of days. After too many drinks and a bowl a piece, you and Elle found yourselves wrapped up in a blanket, still half clothed and her straddling your lap as she rode you. 

“We’ve got to be really quiet, we can’t make any noise.” she said. 

“It’s 4:00am baby, no one is awake…”

You’d unzipped your zipper just enough, freeing yourself from the confines of your shorts to give her some leeway. She’d left her sundress on, and you’d pulled her panties to the side, the both of you covering each others’ mouths and stifling any noise either if you would make as she quietly brought both of you into a bliss you’d been chasing ever since. 

You shook your head quickly to chase the memory away as Jake and Y/N both spoke out loud, “You’re killin’ me, Smalls!” at the same time as the movie did. The two of them laughed together…you watched as she laid her head back on the couch to look at him as they giggled, and it made your heart ache. He looked at her with the same amount of love in his eyes as you did. 

After a while, you noticed Jake had fallen asleep, and Y/N wasn’t far behind. 

Maybe this is a good time to go outside and talk to Elle. 

“I’m gonna go smoke, you wanna?” You whispered to Y/N. 

“Nah, I’m okay, thanks.” You squeezed her hand as you got up from the couch, and dashed up the stairs. 

You

1:12am: You still awake? 

Eleanor🤍

1:13am: I am

You took a deep breath. 

You

1:15am: Would you care if I called you?

Eleanor🤍

1:16am: Wouldn’t care in the least :)

The late night air felt nice on your face as you stepped outside onto the porch, lighting up a joint and pacing the floor. You hadn’t heard her voice in so long…

“Fuck it. Just do it Sam.” You said to yourself. You clicked the phone symbol by her contact, heart racing as you let it ring out. 

“Hey there, stranger.” She answered after a couple rings, voice as sweet as honey, her southern drawl still sending your gut straight into neverland. 

You talked to Elle for almost an hour, catching up even more so on the conversations you’d already had. It felt new, but familiar all the same. The banter was just like it always was, and hearing her laugh again made your stomach fill with butterflies. You weren’t sure if the smile left your face the entire conversation. 

After a while, you noticed her yawns becoming more frequent, and so were yours. You agreed that you’d talk tomorrow, and with a sweet goodnight, you hung up the phone. 

You quietly tiptoed down the steps, trying hard to not wake anyone. The scene you found on the couch hurt your heart and filled it at the same time, Jake and Y/N cuddled together, her head resting gently on his shoulder with his arms holding her close as they slept. 

You couldn’t help the smile that crept its way to your face. You know exactly how good that position feels. You grabbed your camera from the table and you snapped a sweet picture of them laying together, wondering if they would ever find themselves there together again. 

—

The next morning you woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking, always your favorite part about home. You thought back to last night, and your conversation with Elle. You heart swelled at the thought of her. Talking to her, seeing her, touching her. 

Shit. You forgot you’d left Y/N on the couch last night. You wondered if she woke up pissed. You threw on some shorts and climbed down the stairs, greeting your family as you glanced around the room. No Y/N. You walked over to the front door and her car was gone. She had left without even saying goodbye. 

—

You’d made it back home to Nashville, feeling strange that Y/N had left without even a word. You decided maybe she needed some space, seeing as how she probably woke up cuddling Jake that morning, and found herself in a strange predicament. You told yourself you reach out, soon. You knew she liked to disappear sometimes. 

Things with Elle had only gotten better; you’d begun every day with a goodmorning text, and your conversations had only become more intense. You were truly enjoying talking with her, so you decided you’d call her at least once a day, just to hear her voice.

When tour started you found yourself wishing Elle was there. Sure you had Y/N, your best friend and lover around but it was different. You knew Y/N wasn’t yours to keep. As you and Elle began to talk more frequently you found yourself pulling away from Y/N a bit, but when photos were exchanged backstage in Nashville, you found yourself being drawn to her once again and spending the night wrapped up in each other like usual. It felt so different with her. So intimate. Was it because you were denying your real feelings for her? Did she feel it too?

You felt like your heart was being pulled in two different directions. Elle and Y/N, the two most important women in your life were now silently competing for your affection. However, it was not lost on you that Y/N was also gravitating towards Jake, whether she noticed it or not. The thing about all of it though, was that you knew Jake. You knew Jake better than he thought you did. You could see that it was killing him to watch you with Y/N, especially after what happened back home. 

You could sense a shift between the two of them. Something was there. Something was growing, and maybe, by removing yourself from the situation slowly, you would make room for that thing to reach its full potential. Even if it killed you.  

—

LATE AUGUST 2021

BRIDGEPORT, CT

Eleanor🤍

7:16pm: Just landed.

You

7:18am: We are finishing up at dinner. If you go to the front desk at the hotel, I left a key for you in your name.

Eleanor🤍

7:16pm: Thanks babe

Your heart was pounding as the minutes ticked closer and closer to finally seeing her again. You just had to make it through this dinner. Y/N was sufficiently drunk, finally letting loose after her altercation with Josh in the lobby this afternoon. You felt terrible, you were so caught up coordinating with Elle that you weren’t there to defend her. Luckily, Jake saved the day. 

You watched as Y/N flirted with Jake, and you found yourself smiling finally seeing his smile, after a few weeks of sadness. You thought you’d feel jealous, watching him grab her hand and whisper in her ear, but you didn’t. The only thing on your mind was the curly haired brunette waiting for you in your hotel room. 

You swallowed nervously as Danny made the first motion to leave. You quickly stood and joined him as the rest of the table arose from their seats. Y/N was a little wobbly on her feet, but again, Jake stepped in and helped her find her footing. 

Your heart was racing as you made the walk back to the hotel, chatting with Y/N as she stumbled along beside you. After a few minutes you noticed she was gone, looking over your shoulder to see her walking next to Jake as he smiled. It felt good to see the two of them where you knew they were always destined to be. 

As you stepped into the hotel you knew that in less than five minutes you would be face to face, reunited with the girl that broke your heart. The girl who was here now, all this time later, to ask for another chance, and you would be an absolute fool to not give it to her.

Offering to take Y/N to her room, you were immediately shut down by Jake. You could have called that from a mile away. You sent him a knowing look and stepped out on your floor. You ran your sweaty hands over your pants and ran your fingers through your hair. You took a deep breath and tried to center yourself, as you tapped the key card to the door. 

You pushed the door open, your hands shaking so badly you shoved them in your pockets to try and conceal them. As you stepped into the room, you saw her, sitting cross legged on the bed, flipping through the TV channels. 

“Elle…” you breathed.

“Hi Sammy...”

You felt like all the air had been ripped away from your lungs, the sight of her here again feeling like a dream. She was just the same as the last time you saw her, except she had more of a glow to her, her hair was longer and her body was healthy. The last time you saw her she was in the midst of true grief, working like a maniac to take care of her dad and keep a job at the same time. But here she was now, blossomed and flourishing, and she seemed to only have eyes for you. 

In true Elle fashion, she quickly leapt up from the bed, and floated through the air to stand right in front of you, eyes zipping back and forth as she searched your face; clearly she didn’t believe you were real, either. You stood frozen in place, unable to get over the fact that she was physically here, making your head spin and hands shake. Sammy, the nerves…it’s okay. 

“Well are you gonna hug me like you know me? Or ya just gonna stand there like a bump on a log?” She said through the prettiest smile you were sure you’d ever seen. You felt a rush of pure adoration swell in your stomach, the sound of her voice even more like sweet honey than on the phone. God, you’d forgotten. 

You bent at the knees, taking your hands from your pockets and wrapping them low around her waist, lifting her into the air in a tight embrace while you spun her around the hotel room. Her laugh, like coming home to your favorite place on earth. The way her body felt, the way her hair tickled the backs of your arms as you twirled her... all of it hitting your senses one by one, and making you weaker by the second. 

Finally you put her down, letting her rebalance as you found her face again. For some reason, you felt your emotions tugging at you. 

“Are you really here? Or is this a fever dream?” You asked her as the two of you slowly made your way over to sit on the edge of the bed. 

She laughed hard. “I’m really here, Sammy.” Her hand found your cheek, her thumb brushing under your eye as she tenderly walked you through your realization. 

“How are you?” She finally asked, bringing her legs to sit comfortably on the bed, and muting the TV. “How have you been? I know we talk everyday but…” her face blushed red. 

The conversation flowed just like it always had, just like as you texted, just like it did on the phone. Except this time you could see the expressions on her face when she moved her mouth that certain way, her lower lip pulling down slightly to the left when she was explaining something. The freckles across her nose, her squeak laugh when you’d gently pick on her. Still full of enthusiasm, still as smart and quick-witted as ever. And you were drowning in her eyes. 

Your favorite, though, was how good of a listener she was. She knew how to respond and empathize, and she didn’t even know she was doing it. You laid there and talked for hours, laughing and arguing and loving every single minute of it. Elle was like an enigmatic force, a warm presence that was unfaltering, picking up right where you left off. She felt like the first sip of cinnamon whiskey, shocking and surprising with a slow burn that you couldn’t help but get addicted to. 

“…I guess I’m just really sorry I left you without an explanation, Sam.”

“We don’t have to talk about this now, it’s okay…” you interrupted. 

“No, we do. I’ve wanted to apologize to you for almost a year, but I wanted to do it in person. You deserve to hear that straight from me.” She went on. You nodded, reluctantly. 

“I was in an extremely weird and bad place back then, with my dad and everything. I was a shell of a person and not myself. I don’t even remember half of that time, you know? It’s like a blacked out blur…I thought I needed to separate myself from you to not bring you down, and the band, but…” you took her hand, locking your fingers with hers. It had been months…you could tell, something as simple as that brought her a little bit of peace. You were both lying on your stomachs across the bed, shoulder to shoulder as you talked. 

“I know now that you were trying to hold me up above water, doing what you do best…keeping everyone happy, Sam. You always have. And I turned you away. The brightest light I’ve ever had in my life, I shut you off. And I’m sorry. I’ll never be able to take that back. You didn’t deserve that. I should’ve reached out again.” You could tell tears were prickling her eyes as she spoke. 

“S’okay, Elle…” you whispered, leaning your head on her shoulder. 

“No, it wasn’t okay. We were…getting pretty serious. I think.” 

Yeah, you were very serious.  

“And I just…stopped it all. For no good reason except my own selfishness. And I’m so, so sorry, Sammy. I really am. I regret leaving the only man I’ve ever felt like this for.”

Your stomach plummeted. Still? Felt like this?

You knew the expression on your face turned to pure happiness at her words. 

“You…you still…?” Was all you could manage through broken breaths. 

“Of course I still love you, you idiot. I never stopped.” She said, punching you in the shoulder. You melted. Wow…she still…

“Do you think I would’ve kept up conversation with you for weeks and come all the way out here if I didn’t?” She asked, her last word hanging on a high note. 

That’s true…

“Elle, you are…” You couldn’t stop yourself, she was pulling you in. You brought your lips dangerously close to hers, letting just the tips of your noses touch as you let your lips brush hers. The electricity buzzing between you, her eyelashes fluttering across your cheeks. The warmth was immediately there, filling the space between you with a heat that you’d forgotten about. 

“I am…what, Sammy?” She whispered, her breath hot on your lips. You could taste her already, so you moved your tongue to sit on your lower lip, savoring every single second that you could. 

You brought your forehead to hers, letting it balance there while you caught your breath. 

“Perfect.” You breathed, the word falling from your mouth as you let your lips connect with hers, so simply and so sweetly. Just like you always remembered. Just one tiny kiss to reintroduce yourselves; she’d only been back for half a day. But it felt right, and real, and she truly was perfect, she always was. 

When you separated, you left your forehead connected to hers, as you let that lustful and heavy excited feeling settle in the pit of your stomach, taking up shop and re-rooting itself where it belonged. 

It was then you knew that she was back for a reason, and you’d be damned if you let her slip away again. 

——

That night, you slept platonically in the king-sized bed, sharing room service and a few beers while you reminisced, her getting sleepy and cozy while you twisted your fingers through her hair. You didn’t want to move too fast, though you could tell the heat was rising in her face, too. The way she looked at you…you recognized it. Nearly three years of her being your everything…of course you were still able to pick up on all her cues. You held back in acting on them, though, as difficult as it was, you wanted to still be a gentleman. 

And getting to know her again? Like re-reading your favorite novel…remembering the details that stuck out to you while reciting the sentences you’d memorized. Re-learning and recalling her mannerisms, laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe, and sharing so many tender moments you felt like putty in her hands. God, you couldn’t believe she was back. 

——

The second night of Bridgeport, and you finally had someone in the audience that you could play to. You had to admit, you were a little nervous. Anxious for her to see you play again, but excited all the same. You had a few more nerves in your system tonight, so you shook them away with an extra seltzer. 

The show was going well, until suddenly your bass cut out. Fuck. You glanced to Jake quickly, signaling him to distract. He did, thankfully, as you rushed to the keys to play the bassline there. When your tech returned, all was fixed and well, but you were humiliated. For some reason whenever something like that happened, you couldn’t help but get upset. It was the producer in you, you assumed. And Elle saw. Your first show playing with her watching again, and that just had to happen. Of fucking course. 

You finished out the show, hastily making it back stage to change quickly and get back to your hotel room. It had put you in a sour mood. You all loaded up in the van, and you shot a quick text to Elle saying you’d meet her back at the room shortly. 

“You guys wanna grab a drink at the bar when we get back?” Daniel asked. 

“No, I think I’m going to bed.” You answered curtly. 

You felt Jake’s eyes shoot you a look of confusion. You shrugged. 

“I could do one, then I think I’m gonna hit the sack myself. It’s been a long fucking day.” He answered. 

“One. We leave early in the morning.” Josh said. 

Daniel sighed. “Alright. It’s settled.”

——

When you finally made it back to the room, you felt strange at the still-lingering feeling of embarrassment from the mess up during the show. You set your bag down on the couch, peering around the corner for the sweet girl waiting for you. 

“Sammy! Oh my god!” She yelped, pouncing into your arms as you caught her, her legs immediately wrapped around your waist. “You were so amazing! Better than ever, holy shit!” She was going on and on, her arms wrapped around your neck as you found a smile creeping up, almost completely dissolving your yucky feeling. 

You turned, still holding her, and sat on the bed so she was now on your lap. Hello there. “I can’t believe how good you all sound, and the crowd? It was so good, Sam.” She went on, truly still on her high after seeing a good show. 

“Thank you, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “You’re too kind…even if the very first show you saw, my bass fucked up.” You let your head fall to her shoulder. 

“What? Oh yeah, you saved the day when you ran to your keys. Excellent job of thinking on your toes, babe.” She said, brushing it off. 

Babe. 

Ah, fuck. 

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” You asked before you could even stop yourself, an exhilarated feeling enveloping you. 

She sat back on your lap, arms still linked at your neck. 

She smiled hard. “Yeah, yes. I do…let’s go.” 

Be a gentleman, Sam…

——

You laid down in bed that night with Elle a bit closer than the night before, still facing each other and talking closely after your shower. Bodies hot and naked, finally feeling comfortable enough to be that way in front of each other again. 

“I’m really glad you’re here, Elle. I’m so happy you came, really.” You said as she traced your features with her fingertip. 

“Me too, Sammy. The timing was finally right…” she said. 

“Yeah, finally…” suddenly your mind shot back to Y/N for a split second. You knew that things with her and Jake had been rocky lately, but you’d also been kind of giving her the cold shoulder. You felt awful for ignoring her, but, if she only knew why…

You drifted off with Elle in your arms, completely enjoying the feeling of her on you again, fully and totally. She turned over, letting you wrap your arms around her from behind. Your perfect girl, sweet and mellow, and all yours. 

——

You woke up in the middle of the night, unsure of what startled you awake except for that late-night overwhelming draw to the woman cuddled into your body, still unclothed and gorgeous. Fuck, Elle. Gentleman is about to fly out the window, girl. 

It started slowly, you taking your fingertips and brushing them lightly up and down her side as you kissed the back of her neck gently. You moved to her ear, lightly nibbling at the shell of it as you blew cool air. She began to stir a little bit, waking up at the feeling of your touch on her. 

You felt her press her ass back into you, letting you know that she was aware of your intentions. And lord, were you ever intending. You let your hand keep tickling her, moving to her front, her stomach, her thighs…you felt her shudder against you and chill bumps rise on her skin. 

Then she turned, bringing herself to face you in the pale light of the room, arm draped across your neck. Her hand found your hair, wrapping it up in her hand as she met your eyes, sleepy yet blown out with want for you, and you for her. Both of your chests were heaving as your hands began exploring, new territory that had lied so many years claimed by you, now ready to be retaken. 

You could take it anymore, you snapped your head forward, connecting your lips in a heated kiss that she returned, finally allowing yourselves to taste each other after all this time. She is so sweet. Still, so delicious…

Next you felt her drag her nails lightly down your chest, your stomach…both of you fighting for dominance as you kissed, hard and sloppy and messy, completely falling into each other now. Her hand was dangerously close to you, you could feel yourself pulsing and growing more excited, yearning for her to touch you. 

You took the opportunity to grab her ass, making her hum into your mouth as she pulled her leg higher over your hip, giving you access to move a little more closely to her heat. Damn, this is moving quickly... Keep it together, Sam. Remember what she likes…

You let your hand crawl from her ass to between her legs, holding back just a little bit, though her body language signified she wanted nothing more. 

“Mmm?” You hummed. 

“Mmhmm..” she responded. 

With pleasure, Eleanor.

You let your fingers slip between her, feeling her wetness for the first time again. She was squirming now, as you wasted no time in going straight for her sweet spots, the memories of them coming back full circle. Her hand wrapped in your hair harder as she kissed you, her leg traveling higher as she began to fall into her pleasure-ridden high. Her sounds were filling your ears, spurring you on to keep going, keep touching, keep feeling…

As if your heart wasn’t pounding enough already, you felt her hand snake between you, fully gripping you firmly in her grasp. You broke from her kiss for the first time. 

“God, Elle…” you laughed, tilting your head back as she began lightly pumping up and down on you, her mouth connecting to your neck as she did so. Your mind was already in a frenzy, and you hadn’t even fully felt her yet. 

You continued like this for a while, going slowly but moving so fast at the same time. Her kiss was full of steam and wild passion, meeting you for eye contact every few seconds. Shit, you’d forgotten she liked to do that. 

Focus focus focus. 

“Sam,” she finally breathed. “I…I want you. Please…”

Fucking finally. 

“Mmm, yeah? You do?” You answered, also falling into your persona of your natural love-making state. 

She nodded harshly. “Yes. Yeah, come on…” she rolled to her back and motioned with her hands for you to climb on top of her. So, you did. 

The two of you were already sweaty from just fooling around; it was evident that she wanted this just as much as you did. Heart still pounding in your ears, you pushed her legs apart with your knee as you hovered above her, looking directly into her eyes as you lined yourself up. You took yourself in your hand, dipping it low between her folds to pick up her wetness before you took the plunge, sending her back into an arch already. 

She was driving you insane already…just the feeling of her…

Her fingertips were already digging into your back, pulling you closer as she spread her legs a bit wider, letting your hips gain a bit more space. 

“Please, Sam…” she mumbled into your ear. Finally, you lost all control as you slowly entered her, letting yourself go as slowly as possible. Her breath hitched, and yours did too as you filled her, centimeter by centimeter until you couldn’t go any further. It was like your whole body had suddenly caught fire, no more breath in your lungs, no more thoughts in your head. Just her…and you inside her.

“God dammit baby, you feel so fucking…” she could hardly finish her words, but you felt the same. You withdrew a little, pulling out slowly just like you had before. You continued this for a few strokes, letting yourselves get reacquainted with feeling each other again. You picked up the pace a little, setting yourself up to hopefully last long enough to make it count. But god, she felt like heaven on earth…

She brought her legs up higher, her knees beside your shoulders as you went deeper, her head falling backwards into the pillow as you fucked her faster now…her hand reached back, grabbing onto the edge of the mattress to hold herself in place. Her other hand raked up and down your back, grabbed your pecs and pulled your hair back tightly. 

“…feel so good baby…just like I remembered…so sweet and good for me…” you murmured out, your voice barely able to be recognized. You could feel her tensing around you as she lifted up on her elbows, bringing her face closer to yours. She started rolling her hips up as you did, meeting your thrusts exactly on time. Fuck, keep doing that. 

“…so pretty Sammy, you’re doing so good, I’m so…” her mouth fell slack as her head fell back, revealing her throat to you. Your mouth connected to it, your tongue wanting to devour her right here on the bed. In a quick decision moment, you sat up on your knees, pulling her hips closer to you as you hooked her legs around you. You brought your hands behind her back, bringing her up to sit on your lap, straddling you as she sat. You never once disconnected, still buried deep inside her. 

Here, you were face to face, mouth to mouth, and at an impossibly intense angle so that she could roll her hips just how she liked. The intimacy was mind blowing, her hands entangled in your hair, the view of her flawless body…all of it. You were completely blissed out. She’s so perfect…

Together, the two of you reached your peaks, grabbing and holding on to each other as you spun out of control, you jutted your hips up into her as far as you could, kissing her deeply as she screamed into your mouth. “Fuckkkk baby…” 

As you both began to come down, you laughed at yourselves and what you’d just done, feeling comfortable again in her atmosphere, and also feeling as connected with her as ever. 

“I waited almost a whole year to do that again, Elle. You don’t understand how badly…” she cut you off with a kiss, lying you down next to her back on the bed, bringing the covers up to surround yourselves again. 

“Shhh, I know. Me too, babe. I’m so sorry I didn’t come back sooner.” She reassured you. 

“Elle, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you if you wanted me to wear a…ya know.” You blurted out. 

She laughed. “It’s okay, I’m safe. And I’m also on birth control, so. No worries.”

No, no worries at all. Not a single worry you could think of. 

“Okay, me too.” You said. “Well, I’m safe, not on birth control. I don’t think.” You teased.

She burst out in her deep belly laugh, rolling back over to kiss your cheek. “You’re an idiot, Sam.”

You smiled hard. “I know.” You rolled to your side to face her, too, taking her face in your hands. 

“Elle?”

“Yes…?”

You locked into her eyes, smiling softly as you planted a soft kiss directly to her still swollen and pink lips. You pulled back slowly, confidence surging through your body. 

“I never stopped loving you, either.”

.

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[melon-official]

my friend thomas called me and asked me if i liked bread.

“what kind of bread,” i said (clueless).

turns out, he went to pick up a mystery meal from a restaurant (because of an app he has) and they gave him...

fifteen pounds of bread.

 literally a heavy duty restaurant garbage bag. filled with kaiser rolls.

“please make a tumblr post about all the stupid bread i have”, he just said to me. “i’m going through the seven stages of grief right now.”

[theobs3ssivepuppeteer]

NEW FIC LETS GO LETS GO

Jeremy is a werewolf and Michael is normal and they are both gay

First chapter and art under the cut

Jeremy was exhausted. 

For three days, he’d been on the streets, unable to find anything to eat as his hunger grew. He wasn’t going to stoop to the level of digging through trash cans just yet- he still valued his dignity, and he wouldn’t be doing that unless he was desperate.

For seven days, Jeremy had been cursed. Infected by something he’d thought only existed in fantasy books and old legends.

Werewolves had never been a concern of Jeremy’s before. They were now, but not in the sense that he was afraid of being bitten by one. He’d been there already. Done that, bought the T-shirt.

This t-shirt just so happened to come in the form of sharp teeth and claws, long, fluffy ears, and about a shit ton of fur in the moonlight.

Strangely enough, the moon didn’t seem to be turning him into the sort of mindless beast he’d always seen portrayed in the books he’d read and movies he’d watched.

Jeremy’s eyelids felt heavy as he stumbled down a random alleyway. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper sleep. He nearly collapsed right there in the alley, but whatever rationality hadn’t been killed by a lack of rest stopped him. If he just collapsed there, there was no telling what could happen while he was asleep. He could be killed by anyone who happened to see him and realize what he was. 

He didn’t know where the idea of werewolves being immune to weapons that didn’t have silver on them came from. One accidental cut with a knife had quickly debunked that myth for him.

Jeremy dragged his thoughts away from that for now. He glanced around, searching for somewhere to rest that was a little more hidden. There was a dumpster up against the exterior wall of one of the buildings on either side of the alley that seemed to have been completely emptied recently.

Jeremy glanced around once more to make sure no one was watching him. As soon as he had confirmed that he wasn’t being watched, he jumped up, grabbing the edge of the dumpster and hauling himself over. He lost his balance and fell nearly face-first into it. He took a moment to catch his breath, then pulled the lid quietly closed to hide himself. He curled up in the corner, ignoring the lingering smell of garbage and closing his eyes in an attempt to get some sleep.

-

-

-

-

Michael hated trash duty.

He’d never liked his job in the first place, but having to haul all the trash out back and throw it in the dumpster after an already exhausting day just made the whole thing a little more sour. 

Alas, the universe hated him, and so he was forced (well, technically he was asked, but really, when was he ever allowed to say no to his manager?) to take out the garbage tonight. He dragged every last bag outside, taking a moment to catch his breath once he was finally done. 

Huh. He didn’t remember the dumpster being closed.

Michael sighed, picked up the first trash bag, and pushed the lid open, grunting with effort as he did so. He froze, dropping the black bag onto the ground as he realized that somebody was curled up in the dumpster.

Idiot. Isn’t he worried that someone might dump a bunch of garbage on him?

Michael considered waking him up to ask him what the hell he was thinking when he paused. He looked over him once more, examining him more closely.

He looked like he was around Michael’s age, which was 18 years old, though he was much scrawnier than Mike was. He had fluffy blonde hair that looked wild and unkempt- as if it hadn’t been brushed in weeks. He was wearing a dark grey hoodie and a pair of sweatpants in the same colour as the hoodie.

Michael wasn’t too concerned about those minor details, however. He was focused on a few larger (and more unnatural) things. Underneath the mess of hair, the guy had long ears, covered in fluffy blonde fur. His fingernails were long and curved, closely resembling claws.

Michael’s eyes widened, and he reeled back, tripping over the piles of trash bags behind him and falling backwards. There was no way. That wasn’t a human. No, it was some thing that happened to look human.

But werewolves weren’t real! Weren’t they?

There was no denying, however, the thing lying in the dumpster. Michael was lucky that it was asleep, or he probably would’ve been dead by now.

Michael looked around, debating in his head what to do. He could just leave, take the fall for the abandoned trash bags in the morning, and be done with it. At first, he thought about doing it, but then he started second-guessing himself. What if it hurt somebody else? A life-for-life trade wasn’t the kind of thing he wanted to engage in, even indirectly. Plus, what if it woke up, realized that he’d been here, and tracked his scent home to kill and eat him? There was no telling what this thing would do.

Michael reached into his pocket. Inside was a pocket knife that he always carried around for self-defence. He drew it from his pocket, folding the blade out and gripping it in his sweating palm.

Werewolves were harmed by steel, right? Or was it silver? No, it was definitely steel. 

Taking a deep breath for confidence, Michael carefully climbed into the dumpster with the werewolf, careful not to make much noise for fear of waking the creature.

The werewolf was still fast asleep. Now was Michael’s chance. Quickly, before the thing could wake up and kill him. Just one stab and it wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone. The steel would quickly kill it.

Michael, approached the werewolf (slowly, slowly!) and crouched on top of it, pressing his knee into its back to hold it down, should it awaken.

Michael slowly raised the dagger, his hands shaking slightly. He took another deep breath to steady himself. He lowered the knife, adjusted his grip, lifted it again, double-checked to make sure the werewolf was firmly held down, and finally brought the knife down. His aim wasn’t perfect. He had been aiming for its spine, but he missed by a small amount and ended up stabbing it into the creature’s shoulder instead.

The werewolf’s eyes flew open, and it let out an agonized shriek. It clawed at the bottom of the dumpster, attempting to drag itself away from Michel. Its nails (claws?) made deep marks in the metal bottom of the dumpster, and Michael couldn’t help but shiver as he imagined those claws going through flesh instead of metal.

Michael started to panic a little as the creature struggled underneath him. He dug his knee more firmly into its back to keep it pinned under his weight. He pressed the knife deeper into the werewolf’s shoulder, earning another scream of pain, this one even louder than before.

The werewolf continued to desperately struggle for a few moments before it stopped moving, its breathing fast as it whimpered, twisting its head to look back at Michael. It met his gaze, brilliant yellow-green eyes sparkling with pain and terror. Its long ears were lowered in what Michael assumed to be submission or fear.

Michael couldn’t help but feel pity as the thing stared at him, its expression scared and dismayed. He quickly shook those feelings away, reminding himself that this thing would kill him if given the chance. He pulled the knife out of its shoulder, flipped it onto its back, and positioned the blade in front of the werewolf’s chest, aiming for the heart this time. He’d make it quick. He didn’t want it to suffer, after all.

Surprisingly, the werewolf didn’t fight back. It whimpered again, screwing its eyes shut and turning its head away as it seemed to wait for Michael to stab it.

Now Michael felt really bad for it. He felt guilty as he thought about the fact that the werewolf hadn’t even done anything to hurt him. It hadn’t attacked him at all, and now it wasn’t even trying to fight back as he held a blade over its heart, prepared to kill it. The thing was only his age, if not younger. It was a scared teenager, curled up and waiting for death to come.

In a way, it reminded Michael of himself.

Michael couldn’t bring himself to kill the poor thing. He lowered his pocket knife and carefully got off the werewolf’s back, sitting there in the dumpster next to it, silently staring.

The werewolf slowly opened its eyes as Michael took his weight off of it. It looked surprised to have not been killed, staring at Michael nervously. It started to back away, its expression unsure.

Michael just stared at the werewolf, staying completely still, as if any sudden movements would cause it to attack. For all he knew, it could . He stayed silent, unsure of what to do now. He was starting to worry that he’d made a mistake sparing it, with the way it was just silently staring at him.

The werewolf held his gaze for a few more moments, then suddenly turned and climbed out of the dumpster. It nearly landed face-first on the ground, scrambling to its feet and starting to run away. 

Michael watched with growing concern as it quickly slowed down, began to lean heavily against the left wall, and to Michael’s intense shock and concern, collapsed a few moments later, blood pouring from the stab wound on its back and pooling on the ground.

Shit.

-

-

-

-

Jeremy awoke to an intense stabbing pain in his left shoulder. He let out a shriek of pain and immediately tried to scramble away from whatever was hurting him. His alarm grew as he realized that he was pinned down underneath a stranger, his knee digging into Jeremy’s bag and holding him down.

He desperately clawed at the bottom of the dumpster around him, trying to escape. The man drove something sharp even deeper into Jeremy’s shoulder, making the pain increase substantially.

Jeremy’s screams grew louder. He continued clawing at the dumpster floor, desperate to get away. He stopped moving after a few moments, recognizing the futility of his struggles. He twisted to look at the person pinning him down, meeting his eyes. He looked around Jeremy’s age, with brown hair that was cut into a medium-length mullet. His eyes were an icy blue colour, flashing with what seemed to be pity for a moment before they hardened, and the man turned Jeremy over onto his back. Jeremy’s eyes widened as he realized that he was now positioning the knife above his heart, ready to stab into him and end his life.

Jeremy knew he should’ve fought back. He should’ve clawed, bit, kicked, done anything to get away. But he didn’t want to hurt this man..! He didn’t want to hurt anyone at all!

Jeremy whimpered, closing his eyes and turning his head away as he waited for the inevitable pain of a blade being driven into his heart.

But it didn’t come. Instead, he felt the weight on his body lift after a few moments. He slowly opened his eyes as he realized that he hadn’t been killed yet. He stared at the stranger and started to back away, trying to see if this man was actually letting him go.

The man was completely still, making no move to lift his weapon as Jeremy stared at him.

After a few long moments, Jeremy realized that he should probably get out of there. He turned and threw himself over the edge of the dumpster, nearly falling on his face again on his way out. He scrambled to his feet and started running, trying to put as much distance between himself and the stranger as possible.

However, much to his dismay, he quickly became aware of his eyes closing against his will, his limbs becoming heavy as he leaned against the wall nearest to him. He swayed on his feet, struggling to stay awake before the exhaustion won and he collapsed, the world swirling around him before it faded into black.

-

-

-

-

Michael wasn’t exactly sure why he was bringing the werewolf home with him. Perhaps it was the guilt of knowing that he’d inflicted wounds that had caused the poor guy to pass out.

He had it carried over his shoulder, its arms dangling limply over his back as it didn’t so much as stir. It was surprisingly light, though he supposed he really shouldn’t have been surprised, with how scrawny the thing was.

He tried to be careful with the unconscious werewolf on his shoulder as he eventually made it back to his house and went inside. He quietly went upstairs, trying his best not to wake his father or siblings, and headed into his bedroom, setting the werewolf down on his bed with a soft sigh.

Now to treat that wound.

Michael made a quick trip to the bathroom for some first-aid supplies, bringing back some bandages and rubbing alcohol.

He slowly lifted the werewolf’s shirt, pouring some of the alcohol into his hand and starting to try treating the stab wound on the werewolf’s back.

It barely stirred. It looked almost peaceful, its chest rising and falling steadily as it breathed.

Michael slowly relaxed as he finished disinfecting the wound and started bandaging it. Maybe there was nothing to be afraid of after all.

-

-

-

-

Jeremy slowly opened his eyes, his sense of touch registering to him before his sight. He was surprised to feel something soft under him, like a mattress. He let out a soft groan as he felt a dull ache in his shoulder. “Wha…?” He slurred, looking around.

“Hey, you’re finally awake,” said a voice softly, “Feeling better?”

Jeremy quickly whipped his head around until he found the source of the voice. It was the same guy from the alleyway.

“You…!”

Jeremy cried softly, scooting away a little.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said in a comforting tone, reaching out towards Jeremy. Jeremy shied away, letting out a pained growl as the guy touched his arm and a burning sensation erupted where his ring touched Jeremy’s flesh. He immediately pulled back, fear flashing in his eyes before being replaced by concern.

“Sorry, sorry. Are you okay…? I didn’t know it would hurt you.”

Jeremy took a deep breath, wincing. There was an angry red mark where the ring had touched him, almost like it had burned him.

“It’s okay,” Jeremy responded. “Silver?” He inquired, nodding at the ring on the man’s middle finger. He nodded back.

“Sorry,” he apologized, quickly taking off his ring and pocketing it. “I kind of forgot I was wearing it.”

Jeremy hummed dubiously, but he decided to take this guy at his word for now. Hesitantly, he reached out for a handshake.

“I’m Jeremy.”

“Michael,” the guy responded, taking Jeremy’s hand and giving a brief shake before letting his arm drop back to his side. Jeremy smiled softly at Michael.

“Thank you…”

Michael nodded.

“No problem. I couldn’t just watch you bleed out in an alleyway, even if you’re a…”

Michael trailed off with a slightly nervous expression, and Jeremy cut in for him, cocking his head slightly.

“ Werewolf? ”

Michael nodded once more. He glanced around the room before looking back at Jeremy.

“Look, you should probably stick around and rest for a bit. That wound on your shoulder is pretty nasty, and something tells me you don’t really have anywhere to go.”

Jeremy hummed softly in acknowledgement, looking down. He trailed a fingernail in circles on the bed.

“Yeah, not really…”

He murmured, before letting out a yawn that he tried and failed to stifle. Michael gave a soft chuckle and smiled, picking up a heavy blanket and draping it over Jeremy’s body. He hadn’t even realized he’d been cold until he felt how warm it was under the blanket.

“Here, get some sleep for now. You’re safe here.”

Jeremy, despite being overall dubious about the whole situation, was too tired to object. He laid his head down, closing his eyes as he allowed himself to finally go to sleep.

[cleaningproducts78]

Unravelling The Heavy Duty Garbage Bag Advantage: Unlocking A Cleaner, Greener Future

In the ever-evolving landscape of waste management, the heavy-duty garbage bag has emerged as a silent hero, pivotal in our quest for a cleaner and more sustainable future. Beyond its practical function of containing our discards, this unassuming accessory offers many benefits that extend far beyond the boundaries of our homes and businesses. Join us as we delve into the transformative benefits of the heavy-duty bag and unlock the path to a greener tomorrow.

Enhanced Durability and Longevity

The hallmark of a garbage bag is its exceptional durability and longevity. Crafted from robust materials and reinforced with state-of-the-art engineering, these bags are designed to withstand the rigours of daily use, from the sharp edges of broken glass to the heft of construction debris. By opting for heavy-duty bags, you can rest assured that your waste is securely contained, reducing the risk of messy leaks and unsightly spills.

Improved Waste Segregation and Disposal

Effective waste management hinges on efficiently segregating materials, and heavy-duty garbage bags play a pivotal role in this process. With their distinctive colours and labelling, these bags facilitate the separation of recyclables, compostable items, and general waste, ensuring that each stream is handled appropriately. This streamlined approach enhances the effectiveness of your waste disposal system and contributes to a more sustainable future by maximising the potential for recycling and composting.

Reduced Environmental Impact

The benefits of heavy-duty bags extend far beyond the confines of your home or business. By choosing bags designed with environmental considerations in mind, you can actively contribute to the preservation of our planet. Many manufacturers now offer biodegradable and compostable garbage bag options, which break down naturally and minimise the strain on landfills and oceans. This shift towards eco-friendly alternatives showcases the industry's commitment to a greener future and empowers consumers to make more informed, sustainable choices.

Enhanced Cost-Effectiveness

While the upfront cost of heavy-duty bags may be slightly higher than their lighter counterparts, their benefits can translate into long-term cost savings. Their superior strength and durability mean that fewer bags are required to handle the same volume of waste, reducing the overall expenditure on waste management. Additionally, the efficiency gained through improved segregation and reduced waste can lead to further cost savings, as recycling and composting initiatives often offer financial incentives.

Improved Workplace Safety

In commercial and industrial settings, garbage bags' benefits extend beyond environmental considerations to encompass workplace safety. These sturdy bags are designed to withstand heavy-duty use, reducing the risk of tearing or breaking and minimising the potential for accidental exposure to hazardous materials. By incorporating heavy-duty garbage bags into your waste management practices, you can prioritise the well-being of your employees and create a safer, more secure work environment.

Enhancing Community and Global Initiatives

The benefits of garbage bags extend beyond the individual and can contribute to broader community and global initiatives. By supporting eco-friendly, durable, heavy-duty bags, you can actively participate in local and international efforts to reduce waste, promote recycling, and foster a cleaner, more sustainable future for all. Your choice of heavy-duty garbage bags can have a ripple effect, inspiring others to make similar environmentally conscious decisions and collectively driving positive change.

As we navigate the complexities of waste management, the heavy-duty bag emerges as a versatile and indispensable tool. Its benefits transcend the immediate task of containing our discards, offering a pathway to a cleaner, greener, and more cost-effective future. By embracing the transformative power of heavy-duty garbage bags, we can all play a role in shaping a more sustainable world, one bag at a time.

[elonline]

Heavy-Duty Garbage Bags – Extra Strength for Tough Jobs

Tackle your toughest waste management tasks with our heavy-duty garbage bags. Designed for superior strength and durability, these bags can handle sharp objects, bulky debris, and heavy loads without tearing or leaking. Order now from our website!

[chaos-cousins]

pelipper mail: a shovel. Two bottles of bleach. A box of garbage bags, heavy duty and black. A canister of industrial strength zip ties. A bottle chloroform. Two tarps.

...where the FUCK did you get chloroform

What the fuck am I going to do with chloroform?!*

*I see the implications here. Instead, I'm going to use all of these things for different uses

[a-lonely-dragon]

Strike! - Chapter 2

Montgomery Gator x F!Reader

CW: mentions of gross food and a small amount of blood

AO3

Navigation: Chapter 1

The following week passes much like molasses, with each day a new slog of navigating the course and its back hallways while trying to keep up with Rodney’s demands and hellish lists.

At the very least, you’re grateful you haven’t come face to face with one Montgomery Gator. While you find it strange that the attraction’s mascot doesn’t seem to have many scheduled appearances, you can’t help but feel relief that you haven’t had to navigate those turbulent waters just yet.

Instead, you’re able to fully focus on your oh-so-important tasks to keep the mini golf course running smoothly. Or, well, running at the very least.

The man-made stream gurgles along beside you, the partially submerged alligator heads lunging up to hiss and grumble and spray you with tepid water (you do your best to keep your mouth firmly shut).

 Kneeling on the rough carpet, skimmer in hand, you swipe at the stream’s surface, earning three neon golf balls and a chunky, waterlogged fried slice of pizza, the worst prizes to a terrible carnival game. The golf balls go into a plastic tub, clanking against dozens of others. The pizza crumbles in your gloved hands as you scrape it out of the netting and you gag at the revolting stench of rotting fish that punches you straight in the face. Anchovies. Of course, you think. It isn’t the first time you’ve dredged up nasty pizza in this building, but boy do you never get used to the smell.

It lingers even after you’ve tossed it into the garbage bag behind you, and a line Bonnie loved to use comes to mind.

“You look like you want to give someone a pizza your mind!”

Your lips twitch despite yourself, but the amusement is fleeting in the face of the monumental task ahead of you. Rodney wanted the entire course cleaned tonight, and so here you were, scooping mounds of discarded food, merch, and equipment from every nook and cranny, inch by painful inch.

For once, you found yourself grateful for the dead-eyed STAFF bots pattering about. They bumble about like dutiful worker bees, vacuuming, sweeping, mopping, and wiping down the surfaces they could reach. At least that only left dealing with all the garbage, water hazards, and sand traps were left to lucky, lucky you. Rodney had dipped not long after you arrived for your shift, claiming an important meeting had come up and you would be fine on your own for a while, right?

“I’ll be back to help you after the meeting,” Rodney had claimed about four hours ago.

You hadn’t held your breath, thankfully.

Sweat collects against your back as you work, the fabric of your shirt sticking uncomfortably to your skin as you work. You’re starting to slow down a bit, but you’re putting off your break until the middle of your shift. It was easier to make it through the rest of the hours that way.

And, despite your sour first impression, the Gator Golf course did hold a certain charm when it wasn’t overrun with screaming kids and parents. If you closed your eyes and plugged your nose, you might be able to pretend you were somewhere else entirely. On vacation in a bayou, maybe, dozing off as fireflies dance over the water like stars. It was actually kind of cool, all of the little designs here and there that gave the eyes a feast no matter where you look.

You catch another armful of golf balls, a Chica plush with its face details peeling from the water damage, and a novelty Roxy-talkie before you decide you move on. As you gather your tools and trash bag, an ominous groan from above stops you in your tracks.

You pause, craning your neck and straining to hear past the thumping bass and robotic noise, hoping you weren’t about to meet the catwalks in a violent and sudden way. If you stare up long enough, you can just barely make out the crisscrossing platforms above.

A heavy minute passes, in which STAFF bots roll past either unaware or uncaring of possible disasters when there’s work to be done, but when no more sounds out of the ordinary meet your ears, you shake off your worry and make for the next section of the course. Unless the ceiling actually comes down, there wouldn’t be any excuse for slacking off.

Shuffling alongside the meandering path, a flickering just above eye level catches your attention, hidden among the foliage draped over the stream.

You squint, trying to parse through the lights and fog, but it isn’t until you’re right next to a small wooden bridge that you’re able to see it fully. Just an abandoned Monty balloon, its string tangled in the vines, its grinning face swaying in the current of air being blasted from somewhere overhead. You set down everything except the pool skimmer and purse your lips, tilting your head this way and that, trying to figure out the best way to reach it.

Stepping onto the bridge, you grip the wooden railing and give it a shake. It wobbles a tiny bit, but it seems sturdy enough so you extend the pool skimmer to its longest length.

You stretch over the railing, two hands gripping the pool skimmer tightly as you bat at Monty’s shimmery snout. It bumps back and forth, mocking. With a huff, you press farther forward, the wood biting into your stomach as you swat at the vines that hold tight to the balloon’s string like a child. If you could just loosen it—

There’s a telltale creak that you don’t even have a second to register before the steadying weight of the railing gives way and your body follows, stomach swooping as you plunge forward. A yelp escapes your lips as you pinwheel your arms, the skimmer slipping from your grip as you desperately try and grab something, only managing to scrape the back of your hand against a sharp edge. You barely register a heavy whump somewhere off to your right and then you’re wrenched back by your collar like a kitten held by its scruff, and you flail a bit in protest by instinct, before being unceremoniously dropped back onto solid ground, where you land painfully on your ass.

Gasping, you press a hand to your chest as your heart tries to slow back down, but that notion is quickly recanted as you realize who had saved you from a soggy and miserable rest of the night.

Montgomery fucking Gator. The very same animatronic that’d taken Bonnie’s place.

The ambient lights give Monty a strange, otherworldly glow as he looms over you. Your gaze snags on the rows of fangs jutting from his jaws, each tooth as long as your finger, and it takes a concentrated effort to look away from them. Red optics flash from behind Bonnie’s star-shaped shades, scanning over you—and you’re suddenly aware of how the mouse must feel when faced with the cat. His silhouette is gargoyle-like, and it’s an effort to breathe normally until he leans back.

The gator stands as tall as the rest of his bandmates, but like Freddy is on the wider, bulkier side. His crimson mohawk is in slight disarray, as if it hadn’t been maintained in a while. His purple shoulder pads, which should look ridiculous, just add to his angular, intimidating appearance.

You scramble back to your feet, anxiety skyrocketing as Monty’s optics track you with a predator’s intent.

His jaw parts, and his voice comes out blanketed in irritation. “Can’t you read signs, lady?”

He points a claw over to a painted sign that reads, Please don’t lean on the railings! Your mouth pops open to defend yourself, a flush of embarrassment at the fact that no, you actually hadn’t noticed that sign the entire time you’d been here. You swallow, unable to unglue your tongue from the roof of your mouth as you stare up at this behemoth of an animatronic.

“Well?”

You cross your arms and swallow down the trepidation clogging your throat. He was just an animatronic, and despite the amount of spikes and sharp bits attached to him, he couldn’t hurt a fly. But even as you tell yourself that, you remember the pronged batons that security carries around regularly and withhold a shudder.

“I was just—” You wince as your voice cracks and turn your head to focus back on the balloon still hovering just out of reach, but the weight of Monty’s attention is as heavy as a weighted blanket. “I was trying to get that.”

Monty arches a brow over his—Bonnie’s—sunglasses and follows your gaze.

With a huff, Monty snaps out a hand, his height allowing him to snatch the string at the very base of the balloon, and with a sharp snap that shakes the plastic plants and sends a few leaves spiraling down to the sluggish water below, he pulls it free. You flinch as he shoves his fist towards you, that silly, grinning balloon bouncing to and fro.

You reach out to take it, palms sweating, only to freeze as his head jerks down and his optics zero in on your hand. Panic bubbles up in your chest and you recoil, attention pulled back to those deadly teeth.

“You’re hurt,” he says sharply.

Flexing your hand, you eye the bloodied scratch that runs across the back with a twist of your lips. It didn’t look deep, but it did sting like hell. A few specks of wood dot the wound. “It’s, uh, fine. Sorry.”

He stares at you, narrowing his eyes and setting his free hand on his hip. “You’re bleeding. There’s a first aid station nearby, c’mon.”

You stare at him blankly. Montgomery was not helpful. According to Rodney, he was a “million-dollar pain in the ass” who skipped out on scheduled practices and parties more often than not. And yet, here he was, ordering you to get fixed up after saving you from an impromptu dip in Fazbear-infected waters. He certainly didn’t sound happy about it, his programming likely forcing him to insist on taking care of an injury, but this whole situation was just weird.

“Hey!” he snaps after taking a few steps and you still haven’t moved. “What’s the hold up?”

You cradle your stinging hand and stammer out, “The, uh, the balloon—I should—"

He blinks at it, as if he’d forgotten he was still holding it. Then, quicker than you can think, he grips the balloon and punctures his own face with such swiftness and efficiency that it makes you squeak, a sound that’s swallowed by the loud POP. His eyes flicker towards you, but he doesn’t speak, only tosses the deflated husk into the nearest trash can. “Good? Now, let’s go.”

Unable to dredge up any excuses, you take a slow breath and then trail after him. The quicker you get to the first aid station, the sooner you can get back to work and be out of Monty’s synthetic hair.

As you walk, keeping a few feet behind, a question nags at you.

Where the fuck did he come from?

You would’ve heard him approach long before you saw him, the animatronics couldn’t be quiet if they tried thanks to the heavy endoskeleton beneath their casings, and you sure as hell hadn’t seen him anywhere while you cleaned. Goosebumps run up your arms at the thought of him hiding, watching, somehow being so close yet you hadn’t had a clue—

He leads you to Gator Grub where a STAFF bot blocks the door, wet floor bots in a ring around it as it mops. The bot lifts its head as Monty approaches but doesn’t react as he shoulders past it. As you go to step through, however, it beeps and shoos you back with its arms, pointing at the wet floor bots.

A growl reverberates from Monty’s chest and he uses his arm to shove the STAFF bot aside, throwing you an impatient look. The STAFF bot’s beeps become more insistent as you step over the streaks of dirty soap on the floor, and Monty gnashes his teeth, grumbling, “I’m right here you stupid hunk of—quit hollerin’!”

You watch the interaction with an uneasy frown, letting out a small sigh of relief when Monty finally lets the bot go and lopes in after you. You skitter back a couple steps as he fills the space normally meant for humans and STAFF bots.

Through a side door, you find yourself back in the hallway where the security office is. Was Nathan on duty tonight? He’d said most days it’d be him, so maybe not, but regardless you can’t help but hope maybe Nathan would just happen to step out of the office and save you from this forced escort farther into the back rooms.

The door remains firmly shut as you pass by, ignoring your pleading eyes to please please open.

“Quit draggin’ your feet, would ya?” Monty snaps over his shoulder.

You grit your teeth and bite back a retort, not wanting to annoy him further, but if he kept ordering you around like a child . . .

Finally, at the end of the hall there’s a room with a mess of pipes and a large control panel that you assume is for the stage set up in the course. Steam sprays from various corners of the room and one of the hanging lights lets out a shower of sparks every so often. Tucked between to massive pipes is a first aid station the size of a small changing room, complete with a red curtain that screeches as Monty yanks it to the side. He looks expectantly at you.

The inside of the station consists of a single plastic chair with Monty plastered on the seat and a slim red box sitting on a shelf beside what appear to be old cans of paint and a candy bar. You have to squeeze past Monty to get in the station, and you’re beginning to think he thrives off your discomfort because there’s no way he can’t read your body language, he was programmed to interact with kids, for God’s sake.

Popping open the kit, you paw through a few half-empty tubes of various ointments and gels until you find some packaged gauze. Band-aids would’ve been easier to deal with, but it appears that the contents were first come first serve, so you’ll just have to make do.

It’s a nerve-wracking process, bandaging up your hand while Monty waits. What should take only a few seconds feels like it takes an age, your hands unsteady as you weave the gauze around your palm. Every time you peek from the corner of your eye, he’s just watching. Not saying a goddamn word. Was this some kind of hazing? Were you overreacting? Sweat drips down your back and the air feels too warm and thick around you. Your stomach starts to churn. His optics follow your hand’s movements, and then, just as you tie off the gauze with a small knot, he grunts.

“That ain’t gonna hold.”

You jolt, head whipping up at his comment and back down to the gauze. You flex your hand experimentally, and sure enough it feels loose already. But you can’t stand being in this claustrophobic back room with the gator for one more second, so you find your courage to say, “It’ll do for now. I have a job to do.”

For a moment, you fear he’s going to insist on redoing it himself—you can’t imagine those clawed hands being gentle about it—but with a huff that’s all too human, he turns and heads for the door at the opposite side of the room and pushes it open, green ambient light washing through the gloom.

It’s all you can do not to sprint out of there, murmuring a small thanks to Monty for holding the door, and step back onto the course near hole 12. Instantly it feels easier to breathe, and you wipe sweat from your forehead with your uninjured hand. Checking your watch, you find only a few minutes have actually passed.

Monty’s heavy footfalls start behind you, and you whirl around on instinct, but he passes you without a second glance, free from his obligation. “Try not to break anything else in my course,” he says, and stalks off through the passageway.

Fuck it, you’re taking your break now.

[stellacendia]

I'm definitely only thinking about this cause I'm a custodian but who cleans the Watchtower?? Cause I can't imagine anyone on the Justice League voluntarily cleaning a bathroom except Clark and maybe Diana. In Justice League Unlimited the Watchtower has a support staff of hundreds and presumably there's a team of custodians in that crew somewhere, but what about universes where they don't have support staff?

Do they have a rotating schedule where they divide up duties and take it in turns? How often is this done? How thorough are they? Cause thoroughly cleaning a structure that large would take a lot of time and they're all very busy people living double lives. How is waste collected and removed from the Tower? I'm assuming cleaning supplies and related equipment would be acquired in a similar way to any other equipment they use.

Can you imagine the League having meetings where they're like "okay we have to get better at taking out our trash cause the can in the kitchen is always overflowing" and arguing over whose turn it is to sweep the floors this week? Bruce will ask Alfred for advice on the most efficient way to clean a bathroom and will do it out of necessity but dread when his turn comes up. Clark is the best of all them at completing his duties and he doesn't even cheat using super speed. All of them at some point will put all of the Tower's garbage into one trash bag because they can lift it no matter how heavy it is and then the bag will tear and spill everywhere because the heroes might be very strong but these bags sure aren't. Several of them will forget which cleaner is used for which task and make that task harder for the next person to do it cause the chemical the first person used made the surface much dirtier than it normally would be. Do they assume they have to mop the floors by hand or do they know there are machines that will scrub the floor sooo much faster and also suck up all the water? Do they use a regular broom for sweeping or save themselves a ton of time and use a nice wide dust mop?

I'm going with no carpet cause satellite in space so no vacuuming needed but I do have several Thoughts on how that could go wrong too. The cord not being long enough or getting in the way. Several team members not realizing it's a model that uses bags and that those need to be replaced when they get full. So much hair getting wrapped around the beater bar. Several people not realizing there's a detachable crevice tool to get in smaller spaces. Several people clogging it by sucking up things that are too big. If they have a cordless battery powered model they forget to charge the batteries. All in all it's better to not burden them with a vacuum let's just say all the floors can be swept and mopped.

Now I kinda want a fic where they try doing it all themselves and after a few months they're like "this is not working" and then they decide they need support staff. Online job postings for "Watchtower Custodian Urgently Needed, Some Experience Required." World's weirdest job interview. Having your background check done by fucking Batman

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

Hope, but not right away

This is more of a half-formed thought than a complete article, so bear with me, but I wanted to put it out there especially on this gloomsome spring day, where the sun is mostly hidden by clouds that will not resolve into anything so reliable as precipitation.

Spring is often a time of joy, full of bright pastels, celebrations of life, rebirth, renewal, the return of green things to our lives. I think part of the reason that we put the focus so much on these things is their singularity within a world that is more often full of mud, grey skies, and barren trees. The snow melts away to reveal a rotting corpse, as it were, for the first few weeks of spring, at least around here. Branches stab at the sky and are not so much full of potential as skeletal imagery.

The solarpunk lens of rumination on this would focus on the way that the rotting detritus of last fall is composting, pregnant with possibility, working to become the literal ground from which life will spring. But I worry that, in that focus, we too often skip over the dull feeling of drear that can come between the absence of snow and the advent of greenery.

Ugly feelings, to poach a phrase from theorist Sianne Ngai, are very valid and worth acknowledging. Especially when the world around me is ugly, I have some pretty ugly thoughts. I mourn the fact that the double-whammy of climate weirding and El Niño meant that we didn’t really get a winter at all in these parts. I resent the rawness of the wind, too cold when the sun isn’t shining, and still wet as hell and - it seems - tailored to produce the most amount of misery in the least amount of time. I am frustrated by the fact that every single one of my coats (ranging from heavy-duty winterwear to light rain jackets) are needed within the span of a week, and yet none of them are truly adequate for the weather conditions I walk through. I think dark thoughts about the humans of this city when I walk the trails and see the incredible amount of litter - plastic bags/bottles, old Timmies cups, cigarette butts, wrappers, and other detritus - on the sides of the path, now revealed by the melting of the snow.

These are all problems that I know will pass, or that at least my brain will skim over. Take climate weirding and El Niño for example - I can’t do anything about weather patterns, and I’m doing my best right now to tackle climate change and catastrophe given my situation; they’re not going to go away any time soon, and they are a reality that I can accept, like the shitty wind. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to change my behaviour or do something about them, but it’s not like I myself can just nip the problem in the bud. Given past experience, I know that temperatures will continue to climb, solving my multiple coats problems. The City has already emailed me and many others subscribed to its newsletter that it is time for an annual spring community clean-ups: and if one registers with a group, they will provide gloves, grabbers, and garbage bags for each person, along with a tips sheet about safety, especially with handling any sharps such as broken glass or discarded needles.

So I can pass pretty quickly on to feeling fairly okay about my immediate situation. As I’ve said before both here and on the podcast, I really do believe that solarpunk is about looking around at the detritus of the early twenty-first century, then choosing deliberately to roll up one’s sleeves and get to work making a better world using the materials at hand, despite all the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. However, moving rapidly away from negative feelings does them a disservice, and more importantly, may be doing solarpunk a disservice. Let me explain.

This is because solarpunk’s investment in optimism and hope is explicitly not a dismissal of badness, but instead a deliberately positive affective orientation arising from negative conditions, and so I am of the firm belief that there is room in the solarpunk movement to acknowledge and sit with the terrible truths of our existence.

I confess to being extremely inspired and deeply affected by JD Harlock’s conversation with Christina in our second season, especially the bit where he baldly states that he has no hope that the conditions in Lebanon will improve, and yet he still calls himself a solarpunk and works towards a better future anyways. It reminds me of an article I came across while doing research for my masters - this time explicitly about hope within the environmental movement, and the first part of the title says it all: “Hope, But Not for Us”.* It is by scholar Gerry Canavan and it came out in 2014, years before the Jonathan Franzen article. The basic gist is that yeah, there’s plenty of hope for people and animals in the future, even if we ourselves are stuck in this time of the Anthropocene, so we cannot see or access that future place of hope, but we can contribute now to making conditions better for beings we will perhaps never meet.**

If solarpunks were solely interpreted as liberal individuals fantasizing about a better world that they themselves will get to enjoy, the skeptical charge that solarpunk is naively optimistic would be pretty accurate. In that estimation, there is no room for negativity, for accepting the world as it is, for allowing for people to feel kinda crappy sometimes, for acknowledging that serious mental health struggles with depression can’t be cured by just getting a plant or going outside for a walk on the regular, et cetera. There’s no room for the actual reality of being human. The solarpunk strawman (strawperson, really), has zero nuance or grounding in the actual lived experience of being human in 2024.

That is why I am such an ardent proponent of holding space for negative emotions: whether that’s through seeing a climate grief counsellor or chaplain, attending climate grief circles, simply talking to friends and loved ones about fears about the climate, creating art about it, venting in a Discord channel, et cetera. Note they’re all community actions. Solarpunk is a deliberate reaction to and disruption of the status quo in which we are mired: pretending that we’re not experiencing terrible things is not going to get us anywhere, literally and intellectually.

I confess I don’t actually know how to end this. Academic articles tend to build towards a triumphant or at least neat conclusion and I’d like to leave you with more than just a mess. Perhaps it’s appropriate, though, since emotions, especially the negative ones, are messy and complicated.

Don’t feel bad for feeling bad, I guess? It’s from that ground that radical solarpunk action is grown.

*The full title is “Hope, But Not for Us: Ecological Science Fiction and the End of the World in Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake and The Year of the Flood” and given that my master’s major research was interpreting the MaddAddam trilogy through the lens of posthuman feminism, it was pretty much exactly up my alley. This also, sidenote to the footnote, was one of the articles instrumental in my feeling extremely alienated from my peers who weren’t also taking Masters courses in ecocriticism, because nobody around me / on the corners of the Internet that I frequented at that time seemed to be talking at all about climate breakdown, or even admitting that maybe global warming was a problem (except the environmental activists, of course). It was a weird, WEIRD time.

**I imagine that this is how society as a whole used to think about doing noble things like building housing and implementing social policies for the sake of future generations, which seems to have largely exited the concern of the majority political discussion these days around everything except perhaps climate change, since it forces people to think according to a scale of deep time. (I’m aware of the fact that most Indigenous groups on Turtle Island tend to have a tradition of thinking/principle about how actions taken now will reverberate seven generations into the future, but settler society isn’t exactly taking that cue up)