#house drafting Texas

[resdraft]

Drafting for Custom Homes, Casitas, Pools Across Arizona, Texas, and Florida

Serving Arizona, Texas, and Florida, ResDraft specializes in turning your vision into precise, build-ready plans tailored to your needs and site specifications. Whether you’re planning a unique home, adding a stunning pool, or expanding with a custom garage, trust ResDraft’s experience and attention to detail to bring your project to life.

[puthyflapps]

baby stop teasing us with fics 😩

I mean I could expand upon my ideas a little bit if you were like into that sort of thing

[atomicami]

bull ride

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: you spend the night out at a bar and decide to challenge yourself on the mechanical bull to impress abby. when abby sees you from the crowd, she ends up giving you something else to take a ride on. (part 4)

- content: smut MDNI, porn with plot, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, bar setting, some alcohol consumption, truck sex (bit of a quickie), fingering (a!receiving), strap usage (r!receiving), strap sucking, abby referring to the strap as her cock, basically save a horse ride a cowgirl tbh 🤠

- author’s note: hi everyone… i know i’ve been very inactive this year but this part has actually been sitting in my drafts since march so i figured i’d at least post it for the few people who’ve been waiting this long to read it, i hope y’all enjoy it

previous parts: quick fix, surprise visit, charity work

It’s been a week since the bake sale, meaning that it’s also been a week since Abby last had her hands on you.

You’d be lying if you said that this week was flying slow for you right now, because to your surprise, seven days flew by like seven minutes, and before you knew it, it was officially Saturday.

You’re sitting in your room by your dresser, fully dressed from head to toe in the finest Western apparel that you own, finishing the touches on your makeup in the mirror. You then look down at your phone for a moment, still eyeing the last text that Abby had sent you.

She invited you to go to Wild Randy’s tonight, and while you were excited to see her again, you were dreading it at the same time.

It was mainly because Wild Randy’s was the go-to place for you and Joel, and as bad as you want to sneak off with Abby again, you knew that you’d also have to make sure you wouldn’t get caught by your dad either.

You take a few deep breaths before standing up and adjusting your belt, then grabbing your phone and bag before exiting your bedroom.

“Dad! I’m ready to go!” you call out as you strut down the stairs. Given that you always take longer than him to get ready, you figured he’d be sitting on the couch waiting for you, but to your surprise, he wasn’t there.

“Dad? Where are you?” you call out for him again, entering the kitchen to find it empty as well. You roam around the house for a bit before entering the garage, seeing him still in his work clothes working on blueprints. “Dad…are you not coming?”

Joel looks up at you, frowning once he sees you ready to leave. “Oh, shit…it’s Saturday isn’t it?” he says, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry kid, I know we go to Randy’s every Saturday but…work’s just been tyin’ me down lately.”

You nod to your dad in acknowledgment. “Well, we can skip tonight if—“

“No, no, no, s’alright,” he says, quickly cutting off your words. “You go. There’s always next weekend right?” he looks down for a moment at his workspace before looking back up at you. “Are you gonna drive yourself there or…?”

“Oh, um it’s okay Dad, I can text Dina for a ride.” you take a few steps closer to him before continuing. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask him, receiving a nod from him in response.

“Okay, well…don’t stay up too late, we have to go to the hardware store next week to start getting supplies for the Mitchell home.” you remind him as you walk your way to the door.

Joel clicks his tongue at you in response. “Thanks for remindin’ me, kid. Don’t have too much fun out there, alright?”

You smile and nod back at him before leaving the garage. Even though you felt bad that your dad couldn’t come, you can’t help but feel relieved about it either. With your dad out of the way, you’d be able to get some time with Abby without the risk of getting caught by him.

You pull out your phone to send a text to Dina telling her to pick you up, and in less than ten minutes she was already honking at your door. While checking to make sure you have everything, you exit your house before locking it, walking down the porch to see Dina inside her car with the windows rolled down.

“Hey, you!” she shouts out, leaning forward over her steering wheel. “Ready for Randy’s?”

“You bet I am!” you shout back to her as you hurriedly get into the passenger side of her car and sit down.

The ride to Wild Randy’s was pretty quick, given that there’s never a rush hour on Saturdays. Aside from the twenty minutes it took Dina to find an available parking spot, the two of you were now quickly settled at the bar.

“So tell me, how’s it going with you and Abby?” Dina asks you as you both sit yourselves down on the bar stools.

Before you can respond to her, Jesse ends up cutting in from behind the bar with two beers in his hand. “Wait a second, you’ve been having a thing with Anderson?” he asks you, popping open the two bottles before handing them to you and Dina. “Didn’t you say that your dad doesn’t want you around her?”

You nod to him in response. “Yeah, and I mean I’ve been doing that for what, four, five years now? But I needed her to come over a few weeks ago to fix an outlet in my living room and it just like…happened, you know?” you explained, taking a sip from your beer.

Dina quickly gulped and set her bottle back down on the bar. “Wait a minute…is that why you were acting so weird during movie night?”

“Yeah…” you tell her with a nod, taking another sip out of your beer. “Anyways, she told me she was going to be here today so…” your words drift off as you turn your head around in search of her, and you are quick to catch her entering the bar with her group of friends. Not only that, but her father was also nowhere to be seen.

It was the first time you saw Abby like this, outside of work and not in her work clothes for once. She was wearing a pair of jeans instead of her usual cargo pants, a pair of western boots instead of her usual work ones, and her tool belt was ditched for a leather belt with a metal buckle on the center. She also had on a tight button-up that showed off her muscles, and to top it all off, a cowboy’s hat that rested over her braided blond hair.

You hate to admit it, but she was looking pretty damn good right now.

Dina suddenly snaps her fingers at you to get your attention, causing you to swivel your chair back around. “She’s there right now isn’t she?” she asks you, receiving a nod from you in response.

“Yeah, I want to go talk to her but…” your words drift off again as you turn back to see her. As you check her out, you notice from the corner of your eye some movement going on towards your left. You fully swivel your chair around this time to get a better look. It appeared to be a group of employees carrying out a large mechanical bull inside an inflatable ring, while another employee stood next to them, giving them orders on where to position the machine.

“Jesse,” you call out to him, swiveling your stool back to face him. “They’re bringing back the bull?”

Jesse looks up briefly to see the mechanical bull being set up before looking back down and pouring some contents into a cocktail shaker. “Yeah, we’ve been getting so many requests to bring it back up after our last bull broke down last year,” he explains as he continues preparing the cocktail for the customer in front of him.

You briefly look back at the bull for a moment, then look over to where Abby was. At that moment, an idea instantly sparked in your mind. What better way could there be to catch Abby’s attention than impressing her by taking a ride on the mechanical bull?

The sound of a loud microphone tap shakes you out of your thoughts, and you look over to see the bar’s owner standing in front of the bull with the microphone in his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he calls out, quickly grabbing the attention of all the patrons inside the dimly lit bar. “I’m pleased to announce that we now have our brand new and improved mechanical bull back into our bar!” he announces, quickly receiving cheers and applause from the customers. “Now who in here…” he says, pointing a finger around the bar. “Is gonna be the first one to be brave enough and take her for a ride?”

You look around the bar to see several amounts of people already preparing themselves for the challenge. Part of you wanted to not do it, but a bigger part of you wanted to ride that damn bull like there was no tomorrow. You were willing to do it, just for the sake of impressing Abby. Neither of your dads were here right now, so who knows when you could get another opportunity like this? It was either now or never.

“I’ll do it!” you shout out, quickly raising your hand to get the owner’s attention.

Dina quickly grabs your hand and pulls it down to your lap. “What are you doing? Are you seriously gonna ride that thing?” she asks with concern.

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re cut off by the owner shouting at you. “You right there! Come on up here!”

You look over at the man before back at Dina. “I guess I am now,” you tell her with a shrug, hopping off of the bar stool and approaching your way towards the ring.

As you walk away from the bar, Jesse comes to Dina from behind, leaning into her side. “I’ll bet you $20 that she won’t last the full five minutes.”

You watch the owner squint to try to get a better look at you as you get closer to the inflatable ring. “Well well well, what do we have here!” he says as you make it to the ring, now standing next to him. “If it isn’t Joel Miller’s daughter herself. You think you’ll be able to handle the bull, Miss Miller?” he asks, pointing the microphone towards you.

You grab the mic from the owner and hold it closer to yourself. “Well, I guess we’ll have to see but…I think I could handle her,” you tell him with confidence before handing the mic back to him.

Numerous amounts of patrons clap and cheer you on in response. As the owner continues to speak to the audience, you step into the inflatable ring, watching as your boots sink inside. You look at your surroundings for a moment, seeing all of the customers placing their bidding money into a hat and passing it around the bar. The hat goes around past Abby as well, and you could’ve sworn she had slipped a hundred-dollar bill in there for you. Her eyes then meet with yours for a moment, and so does that stupid smirk of hers.

“Alright Miss Miller, you have five minutes up on the clock now, if you can make it to the end, you win the bidding money, got it?” the owner explains to you.

You nod at him in acknowledgment. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

You then turn back around so you’re facing the bull. You take a few steps backward as a head start, then quickly run forward and hop on top of the bull. Your hands quickly grab onto the handles, and you keep your legs wrapped around the sides of the bull. Lastly, you position your hips on the bull by pushing them forward, keeping yourself as close as possible to the saddle.

The bull was quickly activated as soon as you sat down, and so was the timer. The machine began to rock back and forth, slowly to start. Once you felt like you were getting the hang of it, that’s when the speed began to go faster. Your grip on the bull progressively gets tighter and tighter the more that the speed increases. It eventually escalated to the fullest speed, the bull now moving and spinning around like crazy. Time has never flown by slower for you than at this moment. On the inside, you were getting so dizzy to where you were going to be sick. But you couldn’t express that. Not in front of the audience. Not in front of Abby.

Regardless of it, you refused to let go. You held onto the bull like your life depended on it, waiting for the timer to count down to zero. Five minutes felt more like an eternity to you right now, but you soon start to feel relief once you hear the audience begin to count down.

Ten, nine, eight…

You lock down your grip on the bull’s handles.

Seven, six, five…

Your legs remain secure on each side of the saddle, and your hips push forward against it. As much as you were trying to hold onto the bull, you couldn’t help but imagine your hips pushing forward on Abby’s str—

Four, three, two, one!

The timer goes off, and the bull begins to slow itself down. As the machine comes to a stop, you instantly loosen your grip on it. You let out a breath of relief as you look up, watching all of the patrons cheer and applaud you. One of the employees approaches to help you, and you carefully hop off the bull before exiting the ring.

“I have to say you did phenomenal on that bull there, Miss Miller.” the owner tells you through the mic, handing you the bidding money. “Anything you wanna say to the audience?”

You take the money from his hands before taking the microphone. “Well, first of all, thank you all for bidding on me, and second…” you pause for a moment before continuing. “And I don’t mean to self-promote but…if anyone here needs any construction help…be sure to contact my dad’s company, Miller Contracting. We’re the best in all of Austin.” your eyes scan around the audience before your gaze fixes on Abby. You keep your eyes on her for a little bit, smirking at her before looking back at the audience and walking off, a last set of applause happening as you do so.

You make your way back to the spot where Jesse and Dina remain. “See? Told y’all I’d beat that thing,” you say, flaunting your bidding money in front of them. Jesse leans forward on the bar to get closer to you. “Mind if I get a cut of that?” he asks, trying to grab the money from your hand.

You move your hand away from him and shake your head. “Hell no, I won this fair and square,” you tell him, clutching the money close to your chest. “Besides, didn’t you bid against me anyway?”

Jesse scoffs, still leaning forward on the bar. “Yeah, but I still have rent to pay,” he replies before taking his weight off the bar to assist another customer.

You simply roll your eyes at him and chuckle in response as you count your money. “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s not even that much—“ your words quickly cut off once you notice something unusual on the hundred-dollar bill. You pull it out of the thin stack, seeing a note attached to it that reads:

“Meet me at the parking lot in five. —A”

You smirk to yourself upon reading the message, not even realizing that you were doing so until Dina points it out. “She wants you to go see her, doesn’t she?” she asks, crossing her arms at you.

You simply nod at her in acknowledgment. “Yeah, she does…” you reply, reaching to the bar to grab the rest of your things before saying goodbye to Jesse and Dina. Upon leaving, you look over to see Abby on the other side of the bar. You watch as she pays for her beer and leaves from the other exit. The thrill and excitement starts to consume you already in seeing her again.

The cool air hits you once you exit the bar. You roam around the parking lot in search of her until you hear a faint whistling sound from behind. You turn around to see Abby’s prominent figure from a distance leaning on the side of her truck. You don’t approach her quickly though. Instead, you take your time walking your way towards her.

“Well, well, well…if it isn’t the bull tamer herself…” Abby says, taking her weight off the truck. “You looked good up there, you know…riding that thing.”

You smirk and take a step closer to her. “I’m glad. Wanted to put on a show for you there,” you tell her quietly, and she leans in to give you a kiss, the rim of her cowboy hat slightly brushing over the top of your head as your lips briefly connect.

“You know…” she tells you quietly, slightly separating her lips from yours. “I’ve got something else that you can take a ride on for me…”

“Oh yeah?” you whisper back to her. “And what might that be?”

“Why don’t you hop in my truck and find out?”

And with that you take a step back, letting Abby unlock her truck before opening the passenger door and entering inside. Upon opening the door, you couldn’t help but notice that the windows in Abby’s truck were slightly darker than the last time you saw it…did she seriously get her windows tinted?

Abby holds the door open for you, and you quickly climb inside and hop onto her lap before she closes the door and locks it, now confining the both of you inside. Your thighs wrap themselves around Abby’s lab and you push your hips forward over her crotch, just like how you did on the bull. You could practically feel the bulge of her strap under all that denim.

Abby lets out a soft groan at the sudden friction. “How about you get it wet for me first, yeah?” she says, reaching down to the lever on the bottom part of the seat and pushing it back to give you some space on the ground.

You don’t even think twice about it, instantly dropping down to your knees and unzipping her jeans before pulling the thick black strap out of her boxers. After seeing the sight of it, you were pretty shocked. You didn’t get a good look when she fucked you last time, but now that it’s in your hands, you’re amazed that you were able to take the immense length of Abby’s strap.

Your fingers wrap around the large piece of silicone before you lean into it, lips instantly wrapping around the tip. You gently suck onto the tip for a moment, then slowly work your way down to the base of the strap. However, your mouth couldn’t last being down so deep, so you briefly pull it back up to the tip before going back down, repeatedly continuing your movements thereafter.

Abby lets out a quiet groan as she feels the base of her strap rubbing against her clit. Replacing your mouth with your hand, you look up for a moment to see her head slightly tilted back, her cowboy hat obstructing her view as well.

You keep stroking her strap with one hand, spreading your saliva all over from base to tip to distract her. As you do that, you use your other hand to gently shift the harness to the side and sneak your fingers into the crotch of her boxers, instantly finding access to her wet pussy before sliding two of them inside.

Abby notices the sudden shift of movement and looks down at you. “What the hell are you—oh fuck—“ her words get cut off with a quiet groan as you begin to curl her fingers inside of her. “Oh fuck yeah, k-keep doing that…”

You smirk back at her as you continue to pump your fingers inside her, now fully diverting your attention away from the strap for a moment. Your other hand moves to keep the harness of the strap pushed to the side while you finger Abby’s pussy, and you look up to keep an eye on her every movement—the way her hands grip the seat of the truck, the moans and whines escaping from her mouth, and how her eyes were tightly shut and the head was thrown back in pleasure. You’d be lying if you said that the way she looked right now wasn’t turning you on because you can just easily feel your arousal pooling in between your thighs as you do this to her.

“God, fucking hell—go…go faster…” Abby whines out to you, tightening her grip on the seat as she manspreads herself farther on it to give you more space. You simply nod in acknowledgment, speeding up your pace inside her in a desperate effort to get her to cum.

You can visibly see her breaths getting deeper, and you can practically feel the way her cunt began to contract around your two fingers, knowing that she was getting close. Within moments, your fingers get instantly coated with her release as she cums around them with a loud groan. Her breathing soon slows down as she recovers from her orgasm and she looks back down at you. Your gaze stays fixed on hers while you slide your fingers out of her pussy and place them into your mouth, sucking them clean while you get a taste of her release.

“My god…” Abby pants out, still trying to catch her breath. “No one’s ever made me cum that fast before…you’re good at this too, you know.”

You smirk back at her as you sit back for a moment, briefly resting your weight on the back of your boots. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s good at making a quick fix, Anderson.” the blonde simply shakes her head at you in response before patting her hand on her lap. “Your turn now, angel. Get on up here.”

Without hesitation, you slowly lift yourself from the floor of the truck and climb onto Abby’s lap in the passenger seat, her large hands quickly roaming up and down your hips as you do so. You watch as she scrunches up your skirt around your hips and brings one of her hands down to the crotch of your underwear, smirking once she senses the wetness underneath it. “Looks like she’s pretty eager to take a ride, don’t you think?”

You nod quickly in response, and you lift yourself to hover over the strap. Abby helps you out by shifting your underwear to the side and spreading your puffy folds open. You grab the strap with one hand to align it with your entrance while you grab onto Abby’s shoulder with the other to support yourself as you go down.

The tip meets with your entrance, and you whimper at the sudden stretch. Your grip on Abby’s shoulder tightens as you try to maintain your balance over her lap. And then, little by little…you begin to sink down her strap, all the way until your folds were pressing over the base of it.

Once the entire length was inside you, you used your other hand to grab Abby’s other shoulder for balance. The feeling this time was a little more difficult to handle in comparison to how Abby had fucked you at the bake sale. You weren’t bent over, nor did you have the support of the counter either. You were completely sat upright, in the confined passenger seat of Abby’s truck, with her strap so far inside you that she could visibly see the tip poking out of your lower stomach. It sure felt overwhelming, to say the least.

“Fuck…you look good for me like this…” she mutters out quietly as she runs her thumbs down your stomach, gently pressing onto the bulge that was being formed from her strap. She watches as you continue to stay upright, now squirming in her grasp as a response to the pressure she was giving to your stomach. “You know…it’s not gonna feel any better if you don’t move.” she continues, now bringing one hand further down to rub your clit. “Take a ride on it, princess…It’ll feel good once you start moving.”

Your eyes flicker down to the watch that was wrapped around Abby’s left wrist. You glance at the time.

10:39…10:40.

You take a deep breath and tighten your grip on Abby’s broad shoulders. As her hands remain planted on your body, you begin to lift yourself up before going straight back down. You repeat the process, now developing a slow pace on her strap.

Abby smirks as she looks up at you, watching every moan and whimper escape from your lips as you fuck yourself on her cock. “There we go, that’s it…atta girl…” her praises and coos continue, now leading you to move at a faster pace. As you begin to ride her faster, Abby notices how close your head is getting to the ceiling of her truck every time you go up. While keeping one hand planted on you, she quickly takes off her cowboy hat and places it on your head, fixing up the rim so she can still see you. “Prettiest cowgirl I’ve ever seen,” she mutters out quietly, placing her hand back onto your hip as you keep riding her.

As you keep riding Abby’s strap, you take a glance out the window, making you slow down to get a better look. You see some people leaving the bar and walking their way back to their vehicles, and your heart begins fucking racing when they pass by Abby’s truck, completely oblivious of the events that are happening inside it.

“Hey,” Abby squeezes your hip, causing you to direct your attention back to her. “They’re not seeing any of this, you know…” she pauses for a moment before continuing. “But I bet you want them to, don’t you? It’s obvious you enjoyed throwing on that little show back there at the bar earlier, so would this be any different?” she asks, leaning in to kiss you. “Would it be any different if those same people saw a pretty cowgirl like you slutting herself out for me like this? Riding my cock and making a mess all over my lap? Hm?”

You whine back at her, shaking your head. “Yeah, I knew you’d like that, my filthy little cowgirl…” she responds with a smirk. “But you see, that’s why I have all of my windows tinted now…because I don’t want anyone to see what’s really mine.”

Your pussy practically throbs at her words. You were so distracted by what Abby was saying to you that didn’t even realize that you had stopped riding her. Your arousal was now just soaking up her cock and jeans. Abby looks down at her lap and smirks before looking back up at you. “I didn’t tell you to stop now, did I?” she asks, giving you a smack on your ass. “C’mon, cowgirl…keep fucking riding me.”

Your pace now begins to quicken this time, and you move your left hand to the armrest that was above your head, gripping it as you keep your other hand on her shoulder. “F-fuck, Abby…f-feels so good….” you moan out to her, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the tip of her strap presses onto your cervix while you ride.

“Oh yeah? Does it feel good, princess?” she asks, admiring how you were starting to go dumb on her cock. “That’s it, keep riding me, just like that…Ride me just like how you were riding that damn bull.”

Abby’s words had your stomach doing fucking flips. You tried your best to maintain your fast pace as you rode her strap, but your legs were quickly starting to give out. “A-Abby, help me…please…”

“Aw, you poor thing, getting tired already now aren’t you?” Without any warning, Abby tightens her grip on your hips and begins to slam her cock right into you. You yelp in surprise as your left hand flies from the armrest back onto Abby’s shoulder, and you continue to push your hips down as Abby keeps thrusting inside you. “C’mon cowgirl, be a good girl and cum for me now…”

Your cunt begins to clench around her strap, indicating that you were about to cum. Abby looks down at your pussy, watching in awe as a white ring began to quickly form on her strap. Her thumb meets with your clit, quickly rubbing it as you continue to cum all over her cock, whimpering and moaning out her name as you do so.

As you finish riding out your orgasm, your pace begins to slow down and you rest yourself on Abby’s chest, panting deeply as you try to catch your breath. Before Abby pulls herself out, you grab her left wrist again and glance back down at her watch.

10:43…10:44.

“Four minutes,” Abby says, looking down at her watch. “Looks like you made a new record.”

You playfully push her arm back as she brings her hand back onto your hip and slowly pulls her strap out of your fucked out pussy, causing you to whine at the loss of it. Keeping you in her arms, Abby trades places with you and carefully rests your limp body onto the seat while briefly she gets onto the ground. She peeks through the fogged up windows, making sure that the coast was clear so she could get out of the truck.

As you watch Abby hop off her truck, your eyes start to feel heavy from the exhaustion before quickly fluttering shut for a moment. As your eyes were closed, you could feel Abby’s large hands move your body around before the sudden warmth of her tongue makes contact with your sore cunt, causing you to involuntarily jerk away.

“Hey, relax…I’m just cleaning you up a bit,” she mutters out to you. You simply nod in response, eyes remaining shut as your body eases in and relaxes into her touch again. The gentle movements of Abby’s tongue and lips on your pussy easily removes the tension in your thighs, making you feel as if you were now sinking into the leather of the seat. You then start to feel some shifting of your clothes along with the sounds of the truck doors opening and closing right before you briefly fall into a state of slumber.

The sudden rumbling movements of the truck cause your eyes to slowly flicker back open. You wake up to find yourself lying on your left side in the passenger seat, but now with the seatbelt secured over you. The dim lights of the truck are no longer present, only the faint brightness of the music player on the dashboard is the only thing illuminating your vision right now. The sounds of the few cars on the road surround you, along with the country music quietly playing inside as well. You look up to see Abby with her gaze fixed on the road, with one hand planted firmly on the steering wheel while the other simply rested over on the center console.

You rest your hand on top of hers, and Abby quickly notices that gentle touch of yours, briefly glancing down to look at you. “Hey there…” she says with a smile before looking back up at the road. “You were out for most of the ride, feeling any better?” she asks, gently enclosing your hand into her large palm.

You shift around in your seat, no longer feeling as sore as you were before. “Yeah, a little…” you tell her, resting your head back on the seat as you watch her drive. “I had a really good time tonight, you know…” you tell her, to which she smiles in response.

“I did too,” she replies, quickly looking over to you again. “Felt nice to finally escape from our dads for once.”

The speed of the truck soon starts to slow down before coming to a halt. Your heart instantly sinks to the pit of your stomach, and your smile begins to fade. You knew what this meant.

It meant that you were back home. Your time with Abby was now up.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up completely to look over at the sight of your house. All of the lights were shut off, except for the faint blue light of the living room TV, and you could easily see your dad’s head tilted to the side, indicating that he was now asleep.

You let out a sigh. “I…I don’t want to go back in there,” you say, turning your head back to look at Abby. She simply sighs and gently rubs your shoulder. “I know you don’t, angel…but we can’t risk it. As much as I can’t stand your dad, I don’t want him to get worried about you either.”

Your head hangs low now, nodding in acknowledgment. Abby’s hand gently holds your chin to lift your face. “You know this won’t be the last time, right?” she asks you, to which you nod again.

“I know, I just…I’ll miss you, Abs…who knows when we’ll see each other again?” you ask back, looking up into her soft blue eyes. She nods back at you in response. “It’ll happen again soon, okay? Just know that I’m always gonna have you on my mind, alright?” she says before quickly leaning in to kiss you, the rim of her hat on your head brushing over her hair this time as she does so.

You instantly kiss her back before pulling away to grab your things from the ground. You take a deep breath and open the door, exiting the truck and closing it. Your boots now meet with the concrete of the sidewalk, and you walk your way to the front door of your house. Before you go in, you look back to see Abby watching you from her truck, and you two give each other a final wave before she drives off to park into the driveway of her house.

As the lights of Abby’s truck shut off now, you turn back to the door to unlock it. You slowly open the door just enough to squeeze yourself inside before closing it and locking it again. You turn around to see Joel fast asleep on his recliner while the TV screen illuminates the whole room. Without making a sound, you tiptoe on over to pick up the remote from the coffee table and shut off the TV. You set the remote back down and turn over to pick up a throw blanket from the couch to tuck your dad in before heading upstairs to your bedroom.

The door creaks slightly as you enter inside. You slowly close the door before letting out a sigh as you set your bag down on the ground before kicking off your boots. You take off Abby’s hat and set it on top of your dresser before the rest of your clothes come off of you and to the ground until you’re down to your underwear. You pick up a random oversized shirt from your dad’s company and throw it on. As you’re taking off your makeup, your phone buzzes on your bed, and you reach over to pick it up.

“Abby: I’ll be thinking of you.”

You look up from the screen to your right, seeing her broad silhouette in the bedroom window across from yours. The two of you stare at each other for a bit, until you wave her off and get into bed, to which she does the same right after.

Not only was this the first night the two of you had officially spent alone together, but it was also the first night where you both just couldn’t take each other off of your minds now.

And all you could do was just wait until your path meets with hers again.

- tags 🏷️: @nyctophiliq @lucidfairies @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @mochiivqi @floptron @swtsuna @naomis-daydream @hunnybunnyhazel @paprikahoernchen @bbglmfao @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @littlegingerperson @ur-fav-pixi @2busyfangirling @lmaoo-spiderman @olive-fics @onlinelesbo @piscesfairyyy @mrsandersons (striked means i couldn’t tag)

2024 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #14

April 12-19 2024

The Department of Commerce announced a deal with Samsung to help bring advanced semiconductor manufacturing and research and development to Texas. The deal will bring 45 billion dollars of investment to Texas to help build a research center in Taylor Texas and expand Samsung's Austin, Texas, semiconductor facility. The Biden Administration estimates this will create 21,000 new jobs. Since 1990 America has fallen from making nearly 40% of the world's semiconductor to just over 10% in 2020.

The Department of Energy announced it granted New York State $158 million to help support people making their homes more energy efficient. This is the first payment out of a $8.8 billion dollar program with 11 other states having already applied. The program will rebate Americans for improvements on their homes to lower energy usage. Americans could get as much as $8,000 off for installing a heat pump, as well as for improvements in insulation, wiring, and electrical panel. The program is expected to help save Americans $1 billion in electoral costs, and help create 50,000 new jobs.

The Department of Education began the formal process to make President Biden's new Student Loan Debt relief plan a reality. The Department published the first set of draft rules for the program. The rules will face 30 days of public comment before a second draft can be released. The Administration hopes the process can be finished by the Fall to bring debt relief to 30 million Americans, and totally eliminate the debt of 4 million former students. The Administration has already wiped out the debt of 4.3 million borrowers so far.

The Department of Agriculture announced a $1 billion dollar collaboration with USAID to buy American grown foods combat global hunger. Most of the money will go to traditional shelf stable goods distributed by USAID, like wheat, rice, sorghum, lentils, chickpeas, dry peas, vegetable oil, cornmeal, navy beans, pinto beans and kidney beans, while $50 million will go to a pilot program to see if USAID can expand what it normally gives to new products. The food aid will help feed people in Bangladesh, Burkina Faso, Burundi, Chad, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Djibouti, Ethiopia, Haiti, Kenya, Madagascar, Mali, Nigeria, Rwanda, South Sudan, Sudan, Tanzania, Uganda, and Yemen.

The Department of the Interior announced it's expanding four national wildlife refuges to protect 1.13 million wildlife habitat. The refuges are in New Mexico, North Carolina, and two in Texas. The Department also signed an order protecting parts of the Placitas area. The land is considered sacred by the Pueblos peoples of the area who have long lobbied for his protection. Security Deb Haaland the first Native American to serve as Interior Secretary and a Pueblo herself signed the order in her native New Mexico.

The Department of Labor announced new work place safety regulations about the safe amount of silica dust mine workers can be exposed to. The dust is known to cause scaring in the lungs often called black lung. It's estimated that the new regulations will save over 1,000 lives a year. The United Mine Workers have long fought for these changes and applauded the Biden Administration's actions.

The Biden Administration announced its progress in closing the racial wealth gap in America. Under President Biden the level of Black Unemployment is the lowest its ever been since it started being tracked in the 1970s, and the gap between white and black unemployment is the smallest its ever been as well. Black wealth is up 60% over where it was in 2019. The share of black owned businesses doubled between 2019 and 2022. New black businesses are being created at the fastest rate in 30 years. The Administration in 2021 Interagency Task Force to combat unfair house appraisals. Black homeowners regularly have their homes undervalued compared to whites who own comparable property. Since the Taskforce started the likelihood of such a gap has dropped by 40% and even disappeared in some states. 2023 represented a record breaking $76.2 billion in federal contracts going to small business owned by members of minority communities. This was 12% of federal contracts and the President aims to make it 15% for 2025.

The EPA announced (just now as I write this) that it plans to add PFAS, known as forever chemicals, to the Superfund law. This would require manufacturers to pay to clean up two PFAS, perfluorooctanoic acid and perfluorooctanesulfonic acid. This move to force manufacturers to cover the costs of PFAS clean up comes after last week's new rule on drinking water which will remove PFAS from the nation's drinking water.

Bonus:

President Biden met a Senior named Bob in Pennsylvania who is personally benefiting from The President's capping the price of insulin for Seniors at $35, and Biden let Bob know about a cap on prosecution drug payments for seniors that will cut Bob's drug bills by more than half.

[smuthospital]

🎃⭐️Texas Chainsaw Massacre x reader⭐️🎃

Art by: Minilev

Premise: You go hiking with a friend and this bitch has the audacity to leave you alone. You end up hitchhiking with some hippies, but their van gets a flat! Oh no! Good thing there's a farmhouse nearby. Maybe they can help

Note: I had this in the drafts for awhile. I decided to whip it out for halloween. Enjoy. Say one thing bad thats not constructive criticism and its a block. Tired of these fucking kids smh. Also, imagine everyone with a soulthern accent

-Dr. Smut

Minors DNI

Warning: Non-Con, side charicter death, mentions of gore, kidnapping, fem reader

"So uh..thanks for picking me up." You say with a nervous smile. You refrain from coughing as the strong smell of marijuana floods your nose. Right now, you're in a classic 70s Volkswagen van, hitchhiking through Texas. Your friend convinced you to go backpacking with her, but a quarterway through, she ditched you to continue the trip with her new boyfriend. Some junky she met at a gas station. You can't exactly turn tail and go home because she took the car, and stranded you in the middle of nowhere so, you had no choice, but to catch a ride with some hippies.

"No prob, sweet cheeks. Anything for a pretty lil' lady like yourself." The driver looks back at you for a moment and winks. You think he may like you. You cringe slightly. "Eddy has a crush on you! Ain't that right, Ed?" A girl next to you wearing a tie-dye crop top pokes Edds back a couple of times. "Well, who wouldn't?" He chuckles. You play with your fingers nervously. You've been driving along a dusty, desolate path through some empty part of Texas for a while now. You've always been perturbed by the idea of Texas. Americans and with their guns and hot temper and all. It seems you may have watched too many scary movies. You haven't seen a soul for miles, let alone a house, just tall grass and more tall grass.

The car suddenly jolts and you're all jostled around. The girl sitting next to you clings to you as the driver slams the brakes. You gasp for air, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Huh!? W-what the!?" Edd shouts before hopping out to investigate. You cautiously slip out the back and join him. Edd lifts a spiked wire. It's still stuck in the now flat tire. "Some asshole must'a dropped it here while delivering somethin'," he says as he drops it back on the ground. It popped the back tires. You pull out your phone. No service. Of course.

"Do you have any spares?" You ask, hoping to get out of this creepy place. "Unfortunately these are the spares, sweet cheeks." He sighs. "Weren't you supposed to buy more, Ed?" Ann shouts from the window. "This is no time to argue! We have to get help!… Look, There's a farmhouse right there. Let's hope someone's home." He says, walking towards it.

You hesitantly follow them to the creepy house. "I'm gonna check the farm, you two knock on the door." Edd doesn't give anyone time to respond before he walks off. You walk up to the front door and Ann knocks. You feel like you're being watched. You shift from foot to foot nervously. A few minutes pass and no word. Not even a sound. "What the? Where's Edd? If no one was home, he should be back by now!" Ann looks around. You begin feeling incredibly anxious. "Let's go find that idiot," she says and walks off quickly, you follow behind her. You can't leave her to do it by herself so you agree. You walk over to the farm and see…the gate open.

"H..hello?" You call. "E-Edd?"…No response. The two of you cautiously walk into the house. It smells like wood and iron. You see a red smudge on the wall…weird. This is getting scary. "Ann…I think we sh-" You're cut off by a blood-curdling scream from Ann. You quickly go over to the open doorway she's looking at to see a horrific sight. Edd has been cut to pieces. You hold back bile in your throat and grab Ann. "Let's go!" You shout. She snaps out of her trance and follows you to the entryway, only for the two of you to halt in your tracks.

Standing there is a giant, his hulking frame filling the doorway. He's the scariest thing you've ever seen in your life. A mask covers half his face, and in his arms is a chainsaw. You make eye contact with the beast and scream. Ann yanks you deeper into the house, hoping to find an exit. The man follows you, hot on your trail. You see a back door and try to open it, but it's locked. Cassie then barely avoids losing her arm as she dodges the giant.

He hasn't tried to attack you yet. You grab a chair and smash it through a window. You pick up a plant and throw it at the man, who cornered Ann. He's completely unphased, but pauses and looks at you as if to warn you. You toss his warning to the wind and jump on his back. "Ann, go!" You scream. Ann runs towards the window but stops when another man shorter than the man you're currently on top of, smashes a hammer onto her head.

You hear a crack and she falls to the floor, limp. "Ann!" You cry. Your body was then slammed to the floor by the hulking, chainsaw-wielding psychopath. You whimper and crawl backwards. You hit a wall and he lifts his chainsaw towards you. You're thankful It's turned off. You close your eyes and wait for death. You feel the blade lightly touch your collarbone…and then gently move down between your breasts and to the junction between your spread legs…he rubs your thigh with the chainsaw lightly, as if thinking. You look up at him in confusion. He tosses the saw to the side and grabs your face in his large hand. He tilts your head from side to side, examining you.

"Think she's pretty, Tommy?" The man who just attacked Ann asked.

'Tommy', the giant holding your face grunts and nods. You're horrified. Does this monster think you're pretty? "Yeah, I agree, Tommy. Good thing you didn't turn her into dinner… though, I don't think you were gonna. You had your eye on her since their car landed in our road trap." He laughed. Trap!? This was all a setup!? Did he say dinner!? Your head is spinning.

Tommy looped his bur waist arm around your waist and hoisted you up, placing you on his shoulder like you weighed a small sack of potatoes. "H-hey! What are you doing? Put me down!" You shout, pounding your hands on his back, but it doesn't even look like he knows you're hitting him. You hear footsteps and look up to see an old woman looking over at you. “P-please help me” you whimper. She smiles down at you sweetly.

"Well, I do say, you sure found yourself a sweet little thing. Ain't that right, Thomas.” The hulking figure above you grunts in agreement. You cry as you realize she has no intention of helping you in the least. “She has a pretty voice too…Take care of my Tommy, girl!” She warns, glaring down at you. “Tommy. Get'er to pop out a few farmhands, will you?" All blood drains from your face. They…want you to…what? Tommy carries you down into a dark, creepy basement. You almost puke. You see dead bodies hanging from hooks and dismembered limbs and bones strewn about….is that Edd? You're carried down a hallway and into a room. The room is empty besides a dirty mattress in a corner. He throws you on the mattress and begins to undress you immediately.

You scream and try to stop him, but he's just too strong. "P-Please stop!" You cry. Tears flow down your cheeks and you hiccup. Tommy leans down and wipes away your tears, not calming you in the slightest. He strips you down to your bra and panties and takes a good look at you, drinking up your body. You can see the lust in his eyes. He grunts in excitement and removes his bloody apron. You curl your body up and hide yourself from him. He softly strokes your cheek and hugs you like you're a teddy bear. He's oddly gentle, but you feel he's losing patience. He taps your shoulder a few times, silently urging you to show yourself to him. when you don't, his taps become a little harder. He grunts in annoyance. He presses himself into you, trying to get closer. You feel his hard cock through his pants and try to shuffle back.

He grunts in frustration, yanking your arm and knees apart, forcing your body to reveal. You need to do something!…" Please,… don't hurt me, Tommy" He only stares into your eyes. You can see emotions swirl in his eyes before he lets go of you and stomps out of the room. Looks like he's giving you time to cooperate. You bring your hands to your face and sob. You look up. You have to get out of here! You hope to god you can do this. You get up and tip-toe towards the door as quietly as you can. You slowly open it and slide it open just enough for you to fit through, which proves to be quite difficult as it's very heavy. You don't know how the monster did it before.

You continue to quietly make your way down the dark hallway, missing the dark shadow to your side. You try not to look around too much at the carnage before making your way up the stairs. You find the window you previously broke now boarded up. You take a deep breath, preparing to make a run for the front door. You haven't heard anyone yet so you think you're still in the clear. You make it to the front door and just as you're about to try and open it, your body is slammed against the wall, your breath knocked out of you. You cough and groan. You feel dizzy. You look up to see Tommy staring down at you with a look of anger. Was he waiting for you to try to escape?

You grit your teeth before lifting your knee to knee him in the crotch, but he anticipates it and grabs your leg, lifting it. He makes space for himself between your legs and lets his large hands roam your bare midriff and up to your breasts where he proceeds to rip off your bra, revealing your chest to him. You whimper in pain and try to hide yourself, earning yourself a shove into the wall, banging your head slightly.

The corners of your eyes go dark for a few moments. Your head stops spinning when he leans down and slides his tongue up your cheek. His other hand reaches down and roughly grabs at your clothed cunt. He makes sounds of excitement once again. Saying you're terrified would be an understatement. You feel his fingers cup and wiggle around down there, not knowing what to do, but liking the feeling of doing it.

You again try to shove him off as best you can. He grunts in annoyance and moves the hand previously on your chest up to your throat. Your whimpers and please turn into choked gasps and gurgles as he squeezes. He gets even closer and you can feel something hard rub against your lower stomach. "Get her, Tommy, get her!" You hear from behind him. He grunts in response and tears off your underwear. He brings it to his nose and inhales. His eyes roll back a bit as if smelling the most heavenly scent imaginable.

You now realize he's probably never held a woman before and he's completely deprived of any sort of warm human touch. "Common, Tommy, gimme that! You get to have her, the least I should get is her undies!" His brother pleads. Tommy contemplates holding the small bit of cloth in front of him before tossing it back, which his brother catches and desperately presses to his face, moaning into the fabric like it's an oxygen mask.

Tommy grabs your hair and begins dragging you back down to the basement. You scream in pain and grab onto his hand for any relief as you're forced to the ground. "No! Please! Ahh Stop!" You cry out. He drags your naked body down the blood-crusted steps and makes his way back to the room you dread. He tosses you onto the mattress once again. By the time you manage to get up on your knees, you hear a clinking sound and turn to see him undoing his belt.

You crawl into the corner as he gets on his knees before you, his shadow casting over you. He unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall off. You now know that trying to inflict pain on him is futile. Muscles that scream he could crush you like a soda can. Not only is he as big as a fridge, but he also looks like an off-season pro wrestler. You can see a very prominent bulge struggling to free itself. The size of the tent itself is intimidating.

His eyes lock on yours as he slowly unzips his belt and frees his aching cock. You look away and feel his weight settle on the bed closer to you. You can feel his heavy breathing on the side of your face. He grabs your legs and yanks you beneath him, positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his bulbous tip rub up and down your folds. "Please…" Your eyes widen and you trail off as your eyes lower to what's prodding at your cunt. You want to look away, but morbid curiosity wins. It's almost unbelievable. His cock like himself, is too big. It's long, very thick and veiny. It looks like a beer can. You can just tell he's smiling under his mask.

He slowly pushes the tip in. You try to scoot back, but he grips your hips with his massive hands and pushes forward, but fails entry, seeming too big. He grunts in frustration. He tries again, this time managing to push the tip in. You scream. It hurts so bad. "No, y-you're too big!" you gasp, squirming in place. He holds your hips tighter and continues pushing forward, impaling you on his cock, all the way to the base.

Your mind blanks. You're unable to think cohesively. You're in so much pain. He lets out a groan of pleasure and doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size and just starts moving. It feels like your organs are moving around to accommodate his massive size. You look down to see a large bulge in your lower stomach. You whimper and groan as he thrusts. "W-why?" You croak. He looks up at you before lifting your knees, pressing them to your chest and leaning on you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel him push deeper into your womb, the tip of his cock threatening to push through your cervix. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, cooing softly to you affectionately while playing with your hair as if to say 'I love you'.

You cry beneath him, moans being forced from your lips as his hips plow into yours. Tommy grabs your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You can hear him making happy sounds of some sort between grunts. He suddenly picks you up and gets off the bed with you in his arms, skewering you on his cock. He raises you up and down like a human fleshlight. You uncontrollably moan into his shoulder. His hands grope your ass as he starts to force you up and down faster. It feels good. You can't help but feel shame.

He grunts loudly and forces himself as deep as he can. You whine as you feel a rush of hot cum flow into you. Rope after rope, he fills you up. You feel so hot inside. Your stomach bloats from the sheer volume he fucked into you. He pants and looks at you, rubbing your cheek with his. He slowly lifts you off his cock, cum pouring from your abused cunt before setting you down on the mattress. He covers you with a thick warm blanket and brushes your hair from your face, stroking it with his thumb lovingly. If you knew this was gonna be a one-way trip, you would've brought some pillows.

[venuzasmuse]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐞. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬

— the holidays are meant to be festive, free of heartache and solemnity, but odds are forever not in your favor as you spend the holidays with your best friend alongside her sister, that broke your heart.

[rockstar!ellie au, best friend’s sister!ellie, kinda mean!ellie (for a few parts of the story)]

warnings: reader is afab, not proofread, ANGST, ANGST, AND MORE ANGST, mentions of heavy themes of substance abuse (drugs), ellie is lowkey a dick in this story lol, smut & fluff in later parts, SLOW BURN. POC FRIENDLY! minors & men don’t interact.

parts:

prologue: read this

one: click here

the holidays were supposed to be festive—full of cheesy tearjerker hallmark movies, a hot chocolate filled aroma, gingerbread houses that took up too much of your time to make, and an obnoxious amount of "holy nights" being sung in the pews of a church.

or even emotional long hauls back home if you were blessed enough to have one to go back to.

the holidays- especially christmas- is a time where even the moviegoers were granted 'awes' as families reconciled on a big screen.

yet, you haven't celebrated a christmas in the span of 2 years ever since you drafted yourself away for college.

it wasn't because you were deadbeat or were escaping for any given reason. no, you still regularly keep in touch with your parents but after you left for college, they decided to leave behind the mundane lifestyle they've had since moving to the middle of bumbfuck nowhere.

your hometown is just below austin, texas, but still far enough where the only things you saw to even get to the nearest walmart, were "has anyone else died for you?" billboards and a plethora of dollar generals at the end of every street.

it was reasonable for them to leave given there wasn't much keeping them in the first place but unluckily for you, it led you to every christmas since then spent alone in your dorm room.

you never really minded.

it ate away at you for the first few days during your first holiday away from home but eventually you grew accustomed to sitting with your solitude.

it also helped that you were rooming with a random who never was home enough to question why you were still on campus when she arrived after the break.

but once you began rooming with sarah, spending another "blue christmas", as she calls it, by yourself was nowhere in alignment in her thesaurus of plans.

she left no room for debate as she coerced you into going back home with her for the holidays.

you were completely against it at first and as you sat passenger seat of her handed down ford bronco, you still wondered if you'd be able to escape at all.

the idea of stop, drop, and rolling out the door tempting you with every passing entrance sign.

you weren't opposed to the idea because you just simply didn't want to go. in fact, if the circumstances were different, it would've appealed to you in every which way because the two of you grew up together: two blocks away from each other's houses.

ever since the two of you met in eighth grade when she had just moved due to her dad, joel's nasty divorce, y'all were practically joined at the hip. ya'll navigated through the most angsty parts of an all girl’s catholic school together and that included the insufferable amount of times spent at each other's houses.

you were around so much, joel even started to question if you had a house to go home to.

so, it wasn't the fear of overstaying your welcome during the break that made you resistant to the invitation. life simply didn't come that easy for you.

it was because of her sister, ellie.

where there was a sarah, resided an ellie and there was no duo without a trio first.

you could almost recount the day you first met ellie. every minuscule detail still etched into the surface of your mind. she had long, uneven auburn hair that she ended up cutting herself.

it sat funny on her shoulders and she shot you a toothy, power chained grin every time the two of you made eye contact because she just so happened to do something that once again, perpetually got her another weekly.

she had a tomboyish charm and you knew then at the brutal age of 14, you were in for it. your crush worsened when you found out sarah was her sister. they looked nothing alike so it caught you off guard completely.

you were spending the night for the first time and y’all talked for hours the moment sarah fell asleep. ellie took the chance to sneak up on you, due to sarah’s inability to shoo her away from her best friend because she hated sharing you.

you learned that her favorite dinosaur was the dimetrodon and she wanted to play the electric guitarist in a band whenever the stars aligned her to.

ellie stuck around and the friendship between the two of you inevitably brew leading to a puppy love, slow burn relationship that flowed into your senior year.

but good things never lasted because every high has its lows and with ellie, the lows seemed to outweigh the good.

the two of you were going strong for a while. ya’ll were as in love as two clueless kids could be and your thoughts were set in stone that nobody or nothing could’ve taken ellie away from you. your ellie.

you were so sure that the two of you even planned to move out together after graduation. ya’ll didn’t have the slightest clue what ya’ll were going to do.

maybe ride up to seattle and get a cozy studio apartment that fit the two of you just right and maybe even get a cat too. a ragdoll cat, specifically.

being two broke teens with big dreams, ellie ended up snagging a job at the local vinyl shop. everything was perfect. ya’ll were perfect.

then, just as you reached the highest peak, you felt the firmament above your head shatter, shooting you down back into the earth’s core.

2 months into her seemingly great job, she met catherine- or cat, as the two of you called her. cat was the ideal cool girl. she was littered with tattoos she did herself and played in a garage band with her friends every saturday.

she seemed so… ellie. at first, you brushed it all off. you met cat when you attended an underground show her band hosted, because she invited the two of you come watch them perform.

it was a no doubt that they were amazing. the crowd went wild for them and for the first time when you looked at ellie, you witnessed a sense of sureness written over her features. she wanted to be on that stage with them. it was everything she ever dreamed of.

the crowds, the sense of belonging, everything about it was just so ellie.

but then as time passed, ellie began spending more time with cat. you wanted to be a cool girl about it and not come off too strong, or insecure. so you let it go. that was until you barely began to even see your girlfriend because she was spending time with cat and her band.

some days, you wouldn’t even find out why she wasn’t returning your texts, until after she got home from being with them.

you grew tired and fights began to subdue. eventually, ellie grew mean and you grew passive and angry. unheard.

but it was only because you were afraid of losing her. she was your ellie and the thought of that ever changing set a flame in the pit of your stomach like nothing ever did.

because of a lack of reassurance the flame didn’t wane down. it grew and grew, shooting embers until everything the two of you built went crashing down into a pile of ash.

you knew that your ellie, held no recognition in your heart anymore. the ellie you grew to know was cruel and left without a trace led back to her.

tags: @bready101

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - February 5

1. Austin experimented with giving people $1,000 a month.

People who received guaranteed basic income in one of Texas' largest cities reported reduced rates of housing insecurity. Austin was the first city in Texas to launch a taxpayer-funded guaranteed-income program when the Austin Guaranteed Income Pilot kicked off in May 2022. The program served 135 low-income families, each receiving $1,000 monthly.

2. Germany: Tens of thousands in Berlin protest far right

Around 150,000 people have attended a protest rally in the German capital, Berlin, against the far right and its ideology, the latest in a series of such demonstrations across Germany in recent weeks.

3. Sweden: Where it's taboo for dads to skip parental leave

It's been 50 years since Sweden introduced state-funded parental leave, designed for couples to share. The pioneering policy offers some surprising lessons for other countries.

4. Germany tests 4-day workweek amid labor shortage

While Germany, struggles to find enough workers, dozens of companies are starting an experiment that will see employees work a day less. In February, 45 companies and organizations in Germany will introduce a 4-day workweek for half a year.

5. K9 finds missing endangered 11-yr-old, gives her kisses

An 11-year-old girl, reported to be missing and endangered, is now safe after she was found by a sheriff’s K9 deputy in Wimauma, Florida. Her handler asked if the K9 could give the girl kisses as a reward to the K9 for locating the girl, and the heartwarming moment was captured on the deputy’s body camera.

6. Oregon Zoo releases seven critically endangered condors back to nature in California

Seven California condors were released into the wild in the U.S. state after the endangered animals were hatched and raised at Oregon Zoo.

7. EU will force cosmetic companies to pay to reduce microplastic pollution

Beauty companies will have to pay more to clean up micropollutants after EU negotiators struck a new deal to treat sewage.

Under draft rules that follow the “polluter pays principle”, companies that sell medicines and cosmetics will have to cover at least 80% of the extra costs needed to get rid of tiny pollutants that are dirtying urban wastewater.

---

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

[almostgenerallyalways]

mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader Category: angst / fluff / run-on sentences Word count: 3,1k CW: language, I’ve been to Texas once okay forgive me, divorce Author’s note: this was supposed to be a holiday fic but I got stuck on it and almost abandoned it, but here it is rescued from my drafts, shoutout to all the amazing tgm fic writers your writing truly astounds me

Summary: Every year around the holidays, you hear from your ex. This year when you don’t respond, he decides to show up at your door. 

2022

Jake UT  [November 23, 2022 at 10:24 PM]

Hey stranger

Visiting my mom for Thanksgiving

How’ve you been?

You ignore the message. How you’ve been in the last twelve months is not something you feel up to discussing with him.

You spend the next weeks dealing with crisis after crisis at work, leaning into the chaos like you have been all year. Your personal life? Garbage fire. Reconfiguring your entire pump setup two weeks before going to production, because the DoC slapped an import ban on one of your key suppliers in China? You’re on top of it.

But then, the week before Christmas, another message comes in:

Jake UT  [December 17th, 2022 at 3:47 PM]

Hey

In town for the holidays

Would love to see you if you’re free

Brett welcome too, of course

A pang in your chest, but curiosity gets the better of you, so you text back:

Thanksgiving and Christmas? Judy must be thrilled.

You’ve met Jake’s mom all of one time, ten years ago, but she made a lasting impression. Fiercely protective of her only son, she’d been wary of you at first (you were, in order of importance: Too non-Texan, too vegetarian, and too focused on trying to rescue an almost-due group project for your sustainable water management class in which no one was pulling their weight).

And yet, over the Thanksgiving weekend you’d spent at Jake’s mother’s house in Colton, she’d slowly warmed up to you. You’d asked her endless questions about her job as a project manager at Austin-Bergstrom, and she’d poured you half glasses of wine (still exotic, to you, back then) at the kitchen island, shooing Jake back into the living room.

She’d even called you, after you guys broke up, to say she was sorry to hear it, and to tell you to call her up any time you needed someone to talk to. You’d tried your best to keep your voice even, not to break down in tears for the seventh time that day, and never called her again.

* * *

“Dude. Put your phone away for two minutes.”

Jake looks up apologetically at his friend, and pockets the device. “Sorry. Just expecting a text.”

Sandeep holds out his bottle of Lone Star, and Jake clinks it with his own. “It’s good to see you, man. Sorry I wasn’t around at Thanksgiving, we were visiting Jed’s family in NC. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

Jake takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid feeling like a balm to his throat. “Yeah, well. It’s been a big year, work-wise, so they owed me one. I wanted to spend some extra time with my mom.”

Bringing up his drink to toast again, Sandeep says: “Here’s to you, bud. And to getting that permanent assignment in California. At least we knew where to send our holiday card this year.”

Condensation drips down the neck of his bottle, and Jake spins it slowly in his hand, stopping himself from peeling off the label. He feels on edge, unmoored, despite this 6th Street dive bar being as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Sandeep’s got his number. “Seeing anyone else while you’re in town? I don’t know, Myers?”

Jake doesn’t look up, but feels his cheeks heat up fractionally.

His friend takes another swig of his beer. “I guess I should stop calling her Myers. You know, with the divorce and all.”

The bottle escapes Jake’s grip, and amber liquid sloshes across the table, into Sandeep’s lap. “Shit, Seresin! Grab some napkins, will you?”

* * *

 2012

 You’d always known there was an expiration date on this thing with Jake, which is why you’d been reluctant to meet his mom to begin with.

You wanted fundamentally different things. He, the Navy: Adventure, excitement, a chance to serve his country. You: Stability. A family. A place where you belonged.

Both of you: an opportunity to prove yourself.

It’s civil, as far as breakups go.

“You always knew I wanted to fly.” He says, over breakfast at Magnolia Café. There’s a hard set to his jaw that makes you soften in contrast, because of course you do, everyone who’s ever been near Jake Seresin for longer than ten minutes knows he’s always wanted to fly.

From your first date he told you about how Judy used to park him in her office at the airport when her summer childcare fell through; little Jake happily spending the day watching commercial jets taxiing and taking off in quick succession.

How her coworkers, the civilian engineers who’d stayed on after Bergstrom Air Force Base was decommissioned and commercialized, would regale him with stories about generations of F-4 Phantoms. Or the British Airways Concorde, one of only twenty of the ill-fated aircraft ever made, bringing the Queen to Austin in a little yellow hat. The Reconnaissance Air Meet bringing in the best fighter pilots from across all divisions of the military and abroad, to compete and show off their skills.

Jake would listen to them with stars in his eyes.

You pick at your migas, your appetite gone. “I know, Jake. I would never stop you.”

But you look at him, and you know your face mirrors his determination. “But I can’t come with you, Jake. I can’t start my career following you around from camp to base year to year. I’m forty-thousand dollars in debt getting this degree, and I need to follow my own plan.”

You haven’t moved in together, though Jake spends most of his nights at your tiny off-campus apartment, where you’ve made him countless cups of black coffee trying to fuel weekend study sessions. Where he would come in past midnight, back from the late shift at his part-time job at the H-E-B, and bury his face in your neck, waking you up even though you’d been asleep for hours. Where you would hold his sleeping head to your chest, his deep breathing somehow felt inside of you, and run your fingers up and down the bare skin of his back, trying to memorize him.

You’re twenty-two, you tell yourself. This is not the end of the world.

So you see him off at the front door, a box of his things clutched to his chest, and you force yourself to be strong. “You better be,” and you try to smile up at him, but you’re not sure you’re doing a convincing job, “You better be the best goddamn pilot the Navy has ever seen, Jake.”

For a second, he looks like he wants to say something, but then he just puts down the box, and pulls you into a last embrace. You sink into it, the fundamentally safe feeling of his arms around you, then make yourself pull away after a minute, pretending you don’t see the wet stains on his shirt.

Later you look at all the spaces in your apartment he is now conspicuously absent from (no dog-eared volume of Game of Thrones on the nightstand, no boots by the door), and it hits you then; the crevasse he’s left in your life. It may run deeper than you thought.

* * *

Jake had gone to Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island, then designator-specific training in Pensacola, Florida, and done his best not to think about you.

It helped that his days were intense and exhausting. It helped that, on liberty weekends, girls would flock to him and his friends in bars.

It helped to be several states away from you.

It helped to be living his dream.

* * *

There is a bit of a backslide, that first Thanksgiving after, where you both think it can’t hurt to see each other for one drink, for old time’s sake, which ends in him taking you up against the door in your new apartment, your legs wrapped around his waist because he does not have the willpower or presence of mind to figure out the way to your bedroom.

He knows it was a mistake, at about five AM the next day, when the blue light of morning starts streaming through a gap in the curtains, illuminating your tousled hair fanned out over the pillow, the steady rise and fall of your chest so familiar to him he could cry.

Untangling himself from you hurts, and he does perhaps the most cowardly thing he ever will: he sneaks out before you wake up. But next week he’s shipping out, and the thought of the same dead-end conversation over coffee made just the way he likes it is unbearable, so he makes himself walk away.

Somehow it’s worse, the second time around.

* * *

You’d met someone else, like he’d known you would. He sees the engagement announcement on Facebook, browsing on his phone between drills, and likes the post. It’s the third year he’s been away, and he’s at TOPGUN by then, so he has a lot on his mind. He has a girlfriend, even, a local: cute as a button, beats him savagely at pool.

It doesn’t fully hit him until the first time he sees you with your then-fiancé, at a little holiday reunion of college friends. He sees you with that ring on your finger, another man’s arm around your shoulders, and he gets an acute sense of the alternate reality that could’ve been his.

It feels a little like losing altitude too fast.

Your initial reception of him is understandably frosty, but you seem too genuinely happy to hold a grudge. By the third round, when he sidles up to you at the bar, you give him a quick hug, looking up at him with a smile that squeezes his heart: “I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

He nods, not quite trusting himself to speak, and pulls you back in, just for a moment, tucking your head under his chin. You smell like apple and magnolia, like nights spent with his nose pressed into your back.

You don’t invite him to the wedding, and he’s all too glad not to have to make up an excuse not to go.

* * *

Things settle, after that. Jake gets deployed and reassigned, breaks up with his girlfriend and eventually gets another. You get promoted to senior engineer, then project lead. You see each other, not every year but close enough, sometimes with your husband there, sometimes without.

He braces himself for the next Facebook post; that you’re pregnant, but it never comes. Over time, even that seems to lose some of its potential emotional impact on him.  

Until three weeks ago, when you don’t text him back.

* * *

 2022

 You kick your shoes off in the entryway, then head into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Before you can reach the tap, the doorbell rings, and for a second you think somehow, some way, your terrible Bumble date has followed you home.

Grabbing the biggest kitchen knife you own off the magnet strip over the sink, just in case, you creep back to the door, barefoot, to press your face up to the peephole.

You don’t really expect to see the guy you just left, the ice in your glass not even melted before you were thinking up excuses to get out of there, but you sure as fuck don’t expect to see Jake either.

The door feels heavier than usual as you slowly slide it open, or maybe you’re just a little stunned. The night air hits your skin, and you can make out the sound of dogs barking in the distance.

For a long moment, Jake just looks at you, but then he says: “What were you planning on doing with that, sweetheart?”

You follow the jut of his chin down the line of your arm, and contemplate the knife for a second, Jake’s sudden appearance having made you forget all about it.

“I thought someone might have followed me here.”

“Ah.” He says, a spark in his eyes, clearly suppressing a smile. “If you were going to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, a knife is a terrible choice. I could give you some tips, though.”

Putting the damn thing down on your entryway console, you turn back to look at him. It’s not cold, exactly, in December in South Central Austin, but he looks underdressed: a long-sleeved light grey t-shirt, hands shoved in the pockets of a faded pair of jeans.

He looks good, you can’t deny it: he’s always had an immediate effect on you.

Jake, your somewhat gangly, sweet college boyfriend had it. Jake, ten years of military training later: older, filled out, fine crinkly lines starting to appear at the corners of his eyes (helped along by the California sun and God knows what far-off places), irrevocably still does.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

At that, his expression sobers, and he looks at you for a long moment before he says:

“You didn’t tell me.”

* * *

Fucking Sandeep, you think, rubbing the back of your hand across your eyes, because that fucker has not been subtle with the hints lately, tutting like a Victorian matron while you pass the time evaluating your Bumble matches with his husband during Monday night football’s ad breaks.

The granite of your kitchen countertop feels reassuringly cool beneath your thighs, and you take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the tile below:

“I wasn’t ready.”

Jake huffs, or so you assume by the little sound that escapes him, as you determinedly face only his sneakers: “It’s been a year. You sure told everyone else we know.”

That makes your head snap up, emotion rising in your chest in a way you don’t like, have always had to tamp down when it comes to him, these last ten years. “Fuck off, Jake. You know it’s different when it comes to you.”

He leans back against the fridge, arms folded, just slightly lifting his right eyebrow at you in that irritating way of his: “I could’ve been there for you.”

Fuck it, you think, all cards on the table then. “I was heartbroken, and embarrassed, and trying to figure out how to exist on my own again after being married for five years to someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, Jake. Sorry my first impulse wasn’t to come cry on my hometown hero ex-boyfriend’s shoulder.”

His eyes soften, and he pushes off the fridge to come stand next to you, running his fingers over the edge of the countertop. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter than a moment ago. “I’m being a dick. It’s just, you have to know, I would’ve been there for you.”

He pauses for a second, takes a deep breath: “It’s always been different when it comes to you too, sweetheart.”

You start to shake, a little, or maybe it’s your imagination. But your voice wavers as you say his name, everything about your tone a warning: “Jake.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head: “Our timing sucked, and I don’t regret our decision from back then. I’m proud of who I’ve become in the last ten years, and I’m proud of you. You think I don’t keep up with what you’re doing? The articles you’ve published?”

This stuns you, momentarily. “No, Jake Seresin. If I’m completely honest, I didn’t think you gave a shit about the latest advances in Texas drought management.”

Just being near him, the familiar smell of him bringing up memories you’ve had years to unsuccessfully repress, is overpowering.

He makes it worse by turning to you, face so goddamn heartbreakingly earnest as he says: “I couldn’t give you what you deserved, ten years ago, but I always told myself, if I was ever in a position to…” He swallows. “I tried to forget about it when you got married, I tried to root for you and Brett, I swear.”

His hand settles next to your thigh, not quite touching, and your hand comes down on its own accord to cover his. He straightens almost imperceptibly, uses his other palm to wipe a tear that’s made its way down your cheek.

Cupping your face, he draws a deep breath. “I have a permanent assignment now, in San Diego. I know it’s…”

“Jake.” You interrupt, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I’m not remotely the same person I was back then.”

He moves to stand in front of you now, and you draw him in between your thighs. Suddenly it seems imperative that you feel him, that he holds you.

Dipping his head to yours, you can hear the smile in his voice, watery, tentative: “Then let me get to know you again. Get to know me again.” He leans one hand on the counter, the other tracing your cheekbone. “No pressure. I’m totally very cool about this. Whatever you want.”

You laugh, a little choked up through tears, but genuine. It feels liberating. “What if I say yes? How does this work?”

His smile broadens, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he’s so goddamn close, nudging your nose with his. “Come visit me, for a start. I’ll show you the sights.”

You draw him in a little closer still, legs wrapping around his waist, one hand finding its way into his close-cropped hair, and you could cry for how familiar he still feels after all these years.

But when you close the gap between your lips and his, it’s like coming home and yet not at all: he’s different and rougher and sharper and it floods you with emotion, something big and terrifying and old and new.

He leans into the kiss, grinning, cards his fingers through your hair before he moves to cover your chin, your brow, the space next to your ear with kisses, and you remember this with a jolt to your heart – how singularly intense it is to be the focus of Jake Seresin, like the strength of the sun is aimed at you, how he never does anything by halves.

You take his chin in your hand, kiss him again for good measure, before saying, into the stubble of his jaw: “One visit. No pressure.”

The grin he gives you in return could power half this city: “One visit. No pressure.”

He dips his head to yours again, kissing the skin behind your ear as he tells you: “Southern California has a lot of drought problems, you know. I’ve actually been reading some really scary articles about it.”

.

.

.

i hope you enjoyed :):) - if you liked this I hope you’ll check out some of my other work:

where the wild things are (rooster x reader)

cross my heart (hangman x reader) masterlist

[mariacallous]

A famous parable revolves around the troubled relationship between a scorpion and a frog. A scorpion needs to cross a river. Unable to swim, the scorpion asks a frog to carry him on his back. Listening to the request, the frog responds that he is hesitant because he fears that the scorpion will sting and kill him. After the scorpion assures his new friend that he would never do that, the frog agrees. Halfway through the journey, the scorpion stings the frog. Slowly dying, the frog asks, “Why did you do this?” The scorpion responds, “I’m sorry, but it’s in my nature.”

The story is a classic lesson about how dangerous people don’t usually change. Even when promising that they will act differently, the likelihood is that they won’t. It is also a tale about taking warning signs seriously. The frog understood the risks that he faced, yet he chose to ignore them.

U.S. presidential elections frequently involve warnings signs. Over the course of a campaign, voters learn a great deal about the candidates running and the potential costs of putting someone in office. Sometimes, a majority of voters decide to heed those warnings, yet there are other times in U.S. history when voters end up the frog.

In 2024, there are more warnings signs than usual about one of the major candidates: the Republican nominee, former President Donald Trump. There are big red flags from both his first term in office and his post-presidential years waving over and over about what Trump 2.0 would bring. Another one came on Wednesday, when the Washington, D.C., district judge handling the federal election conspiracy case against Trump unsealed a 165-page document with the fullest picture of what special counsel Jack Smith had found.

To understand how voters have the capacity to cover their ears to avoid hearing alarm bells, look back to 1972, when President Richard Nixon won reelection in a landslide victory against Democratic Sen. George McGovern. Too often, the story of Nixon’s reelection in 1972 and Watergate are treated separately. The thing is, there were, in fact, many people warning of who Nixon was as a politician and what he would likely do when freed from the restraints imposed by having to worry about reelection.

The familiar narrative on the 1972 election is that, riding high on diplomatic breakthroughs with the Soviet Union and China, Nixon defeated McGovern in a stunning victory that rivaled President Franklin Roosevelt’s coalition-building reelection win in 1936. There were many Americans who didn’t like Nixon or his policies, but it wasn’t until investigations in 1973 that his severe abuses of presidential power were revealed. Had the country only known more, so the story goes, the electorate could have averted the disaster they collectively faced on Aug. 9, 1974, when Nixon stepped onto a helicopter, leaving the White House in the middle of his second term.

In fact, numerous representatives and senators had been trying to expose Nixon’s nature even before that election. After Nixon announced on April 30, 1970, that he had secretly deployed troops to Cambodia and conducted a massive bombing campaign, there was a fierce outcry from Democrats about how he had lied and threatened the balance of power to accelerate a disastrous war. Idaho Sen. Frank Church and Kentucky Sen. John Sherman Cooper began drafting a bill to prohibit the president from using congressional funds for operations in Cambodia. Congressional critics railed against Nixon’s turn to impounding funds that they had appropriated and which he failed to veto. Soon after the break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters at the Watergate building in June 1972, Democratic Rep. Wright Patman, a Texas populist, attempted to launch an investigation into the connections he suspected between the burglars and Nixon���s reelection campaign. The effort, covered by the press, was undercut by Nixon and his allies on Capitol Hill.

Journalists and public intellectuals were on Nixon’s case long before most voters cast their ballot. In 1971, the administration’s efforts to prevent the press from publishing the Pentagon Papers, a secret Defense Department study exposing the lies told to justify the war in Vietnam, required the Supreme Court to intervene, culminating in the 6-3 decision in New York Times Company v. United States, which allowed publication. The media praised the decision as a blow to a president who was intent on stifling the press. In March 1972, Life published a story based on a nine-month investigation that accused the Nixon administration of having “seriously tampered with justice” to insulate supporters in San Diego from criminal prosecutions involving illegal campaign contributions. “The administration has in several instances taken steps to neutralize and frustrate its own law enforcement officials,” the magazine noted.

By mid-October 1972, the Washington Post, the New York Times, and Time were publishing stories about an FBI investigation into whether Nixon’s reelection team was involved in sabotage operations, including the break-in at the Watergate building, against the Democratic campaign. On Oct. 16, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein published a blockbuster story about how Nixon’s personal lawyer, Herbert Kalmbach, revealed that he “was one of five persons authorized to approve payments from the Nixon campaign’s secret intelligence gathering and espionage fund.” Nixon campaign manager Clark McGregor was so frustrated with reporters that he accused the press of acting politically, stating, “the Post has maliciously sought to give the appearance of a direct connection between the White House and the Watergate, a charge the Post knows—and a half dozen investigations have found—to be false.”

And then there was McGovern, who made Nixon’s corruption a major theme in his final months on the campaign trail. In his acceptance speech at the Democratic Convention, McGovern said, “From secrecy and corruption in high places, come home, America.” In late September, during visits to three states on the East Coast, McGovern called Nixon “scandal-ridden” and “corrupt.” Speaking to labor leaders in Atlantic City, he warned that “If we let this Nixon-Agnew administration have another four years, I think they’ll make Warren G. Harding look like a Sunday school teacher.” McGovern called the Nixon administration the “trickiest, most deceitful” in U.S. history. On Oct. 17, he told a rally in Fort Worth, Texas, that Nixon was attempting to “escape responsibility” for the break-in and, in the process, “polluting the faith of the American people in government itself.”

McGovern’s emphasis on corruption intensified in the final weeks of his campaign. “As the net of truth closes tighter and tighter around the president himself,” he said, “they try to persuade us that the spying, and lying, and burglary, and sabotage will not affect the election because people expect these things of politicians.” If voters chose Nixon, he said, they would be selecting four years of “Watergate corruption.”

The problem was that McGovern was running against the wind. In mid-October, Gallup found that a minute percentage of Americans ranked corruption as a top issue; only 52 percent had even heard of the Watergate affair. The public concluded that both parties were equally corrupt, so it didn’t matter who was in office.

Nixon defeated McGovern by winning 49 states, including a sweep of the South, and 60.7 percent of the vote.

Today, the warning signs about Trump are all in broad daylight.

The first threat is Trump’s embrace of election denialism. The former president demonstrated that he is willing to destabilize the democratic system when election results don’t go his way. Multiple investigations have unpacked the systematic campaign by Trump and his allies to overturn the 2020 election, which culminated in the violence of Jan. 6, 2020. Since the insurrection, Trump has continued to deny the outcome—as did Sen. J.D. Vance during his debate against Gov. Tim Walz, when he refused to acknowledge that Joe Biden won. Moreover, the Trump campaign has made several strategic moves, such as supporting a change of rules by Trump-allied members of the Georgia State Election Board that will make it easier for local officials to question and delay the counting of ballots; this could easily create a certification crisis.

During his time in office, Trump refused to accept that there were limitations on what a president could do. Surrounded by advisors who believed in the unitary executive theory, Trump did what he wanted to do until someone was able to stop him. Formal or informal guardrails were not his thing. Trump’s expansive, and dangerous, views of presidential power were clear during the first impeachment trial when the United States learned how he had threatened congressionally appropriated aid to Ukraine if Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky did not agree to help dig up dirt on Biden and his son. Trump and his supporters were very clear that he will flex even more of that muscle should he be given another chance to do so. He has often spoken in public about collapsing the firewall that has separated the president from the Justice Department since Nixon’s downfall, and he has threatened to use that prosecutorial power to go after his opponents. In one Truth Social post about Smith’s investigation, Trump said that there would be “repercussions far greater than anything that Biden or his Thugs could understand.” Written by many high-level officials in Trump’s operation, including Stephen Miller, Project 2025 is a 900-page road map to a massive expansion of executive power.

Finally, Trump poses a serious risk to human rights. Between 2017 and 2021, undocumented immigrants were subject to intense and inhumane punitive measures, such as the separation of families, in an effort to disincentivize border crossings. In response to #BlackLivesMatter, Trump asked former Defense Secretary Mark Esper about shooting civil rights protesters in 2020. He famously had peaceful protesters in Lafayette Park cleared out with tear gas all so that he could get a photo-op. Finally, he was the instrumental force behind the creation of the 6-3 majority on the Supreme Court that overturned Roe v. Wade.

The United States paid a high price for its decision in 1972. Nixon’s second term was consumed by the Watergate scandal, which rocked U.S. politics, traumatized and divided the nation, and resulted in decades of deep distrust of government. In 2024, will voters heed the warning signs?

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Thinking about Joel Miller eating a wedge of watermelon on a hot summer day. 

It's a neighborhood block party, your neighbors, friends, and family all sit around the picnic tables placed in the middle of the street. It's brutally hot... that sweltering Texas summer heat that makes everyone's skin sticky. Joel's skin glows under the bright sun.

The juice runs down his chin, his tongue, the same color as the pink fruit, darts out to lick his lips. He catches you staring, sending you a lascivious look from across the table. He runs a thumb up his chin collecting the saccharine liquid popping it in his mouth and sucking the juice off.

You wore the dress you know he likes; the last time he saw you wearing it he dropped his grocery bag... you can still hear the sound of the glass jar of Prego breaking on the driveway. He couldn't hide his eyes from staring at your chest when you ran over to help him clean up. You went home that night and touched yourself in your bed with the curtains open, staring at his house willing him to walk in front of the window.

The platter of watermelon sits in between you and Joel. You reach across the table and grab a wedge off the platter, bringing the sweet fruit to your mouth. Joel watches every movement with darkening eyes, clearing his throat, and adjusting himself against the wooden bench.

Maybe tonight will finally be the night you properly introduce yourself to your neighbor… 🍉🍉🍉

A/N: I started writing this a couple days ago, came on here to save what I had in my drafts and the first post I saw was @mrsmando's neighbor Joel post, so rightfully I flew into her DM's and we shouted about Joel Miller. I'd like to think this is a bit of a foreword to her post. Also, this is is my invite to slide into my DM's and yell about Joel. I have too many thoughts, help me exorcise my DILF feelings.

[resdraft]

Spanish-Style Home Plan with Modern Features

The charm of Spanish-style homes lies not only in their aesthetic appeal but also in their ability to adapt to modern needs while preserving their traditional essence. There are several distinct styles within the Spanish architectural tradition, each offering its own unique characteristics.

[mads-hemmo]

Baseball Boy- College AU

Part 1

Baseball player Jschlatt x Fem! Southern sorority girl reader

Schlatt moves down south to play baseball for a Division 1 school. At a party, he meets a girl who is the exact opposite of him. She’s a sorority girl who obviously has money and a very strong southern accent. She believes there is good in everyone and Schlatt isn’t as much of an asshole as he is letting on.

If someone were to tell Schlatt a year ago that he wouldn’t be living in New York for the last two years of college, he would laugh in their face. He would think they were definitely playing some sick joke on him when they said it’s because he’s going to be living in the Deep South. But here Schlatt is here practicing with his new baseball team. He’s only here because the coach watched him play at a collegiate tournament and offered Schlatt a spot on the team. He agreed since playing for a Division 1 school would help with his ultimate goal in life; getting drafted to a minor league team and then a major league to play baseball as a career.

After practice, Schlatt’s new roommate who the school suggested he have, follows him back to their dorm room. Alex Lopez is a 5’7” shortstop who also isn’t from here. He’s from Texas, specifically Houston as he has told Schlatt 50 times already since he got here. Thankfully he’s never in their room as he stays with his girlfriend most nights.

When they get back to the room, Alex turns to look at him. “There’s a party tonight for the beginning of the semester. There’s no theme as it’s a low-key party not sanctioned by the school,” Alex tells him. . Schlatt is confused why he should know this information, but hearing that most of these parties have themes makes him want to gag. “You should come with me. There’s going to be hot chicks and free booze. It’s going to be lit.”

He should decline because a Southern party sounds like his personal hell. He’s sure they do the electric slide, drink cheap beer, and listen to Morgan Wallens. However, as a 20-year-old college student, free liquor sounds great. “Sure, but I’m only going for the free alcohol,” Schlatt says.

Alex smiles so wide that Schlatt can see most of his teeth. “Maybe you’ll loosen up if you get laid tonight.”

Schlatt rolls his eyes at him. “I don’t need to get laid. I’m loose enough.” Schlatt shoulder checks him as he walks over his side of the room.

“Alright, whatever you say. just be ready by 11. I’m going to Gia’s then I’ll be back to pick you up and walk you there.” He takes only his keys and himself as he walks out of the room.

——

At 11, Alex is back in their room as promised. He is surprisingly alone. “The frat house isn’t too far from here, so we will just walk,” he tells Schlatt. He just nods, following him. They soon arrive in front of a building that looks like its own dorm building. Alex leads him inside and he hears rap music playing from the speakers in a room that is only lit by a few lamps. There’s a guy behind a computer acting as the impromptu DJ, but he’s just standing there.

Alex leaves me soon after to find his girlfriend. Schlatt finds a random corner away from everyone. Most of the girls here are wearing barely any clothes and he was not prepared to see this much skin tonight. He’s sure all of the guys here except for him and Alex are a part of the frat. Well, Alex could be a frat guy. Schlatt barely knows the guy.

He looks over to the center of the room to see a girl who despite wearing a tank top and a mini skirt, looks modest compared to the other girls here. Her blonde hair is pin-straight, falling to the middle of her back. He watches as she takes a sip from the White Claw she is holding with her freshly manicured hand and somehow her perfectly applied red lipstick doesn’t smudge. She is the epitome of a rich, stereotypical sorority girl. Schlatt thinks she notices that he is staring at her because she gives a tight smile. He turns his gaze away, embarrassed he got caught staring her way.

Schlatt finally finds the promised free booze and makes his way towards it. He looks through the selection only seeing cans of beer and wine coolers. “If you want something stronger, there’s some jungle juice over there. I would warn you that it might be spiked, but you look like you could take on a frat guy,” he hears a very southern voice say to him. He looks over to see the same sorority girl from earlier, grabbing another white claw.

He just gives her a slight nod before heading over to a punch bowl. Schlatt takes one of the red solo cups that’s beside it and fills it up. After he takes a sip, he can tell that it is strong. He makes his way back to the corner, sipping on the jungle juice. The sorority girl doesn’t take the hint that he’s not up for conversation, so she stands in front of him. “Are you a freshman? I haven’t seen you around here before,” she asks, her accent still shocking.

“No, I’m a junior. I transferred here,” he tells her. He keeps the conversation short, hoping he will walk away.

However, Blondis doesn’t understand that as she continues. “For sports?” Schlatt just nods. “Football? I can see you as maybe a tight end.” Of course, she would know football as she goes to an SEC school.

“No, I'm here for baseball,” he says, taking another sip. From up close, I can see how blue her eyes are as she takes a sip as well. If she wasn’t annoying, Schlatt would find her quite attractive.

She nods. “Oh, my lord. I never even introduced myself. I'm (Y/N).”

“Schlatt.”

“Oh, you have such a unique name!” She smiles with a big grin. Her teeth are just as white as he expected they would be.

“It’s my last name,” is all Schlatt tells her. He’s unsure how to tell her he’s not interested in keeping up a conversation with her. She seems nice, but he’s only here for the free alcohol.

“So what’s your major?”

“Why do you care?” he asks, getting annoyed with all of her questions. He doesn’t like how she’s interrogating him.

Her bright blue eyes get a bit sadder. “I just wanted to welcome you since you’re new and not from around here.”

“Are you always this pushy?” It’s probably an asshole move, but he needs her to finally get the hint.

“No, not usually. It’s just southern hospitality. I guess I’ll leave you be. Welcome to the south,” she says, looking down as she walks away back to her friends. He notices that one of those friends is Alex’s girlfriend, Gia, who he has seen in their room a few times.

He walks back over to the drinks to fill up his jungle juice. He feels someone beside him and rolls his eyes to himself. He realizes that it’s Alex. “Woah were you talking to (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” he asks him.

“I guess so. Is she always that bubbly and annoying?” Schlatt asks.

“She’s a sweetheart and Gia’s best friend.” He looks over to see her talking to Alex’s girlfriend and two other girls. “If she took the time to talk to you, she must have been interested. (Y/N) hasn’t had a boyfriend in ages and barely talks to guys.”

“I think she was just confused because I’m new here. I doubt she was interested in me.”

“I bet she likes that whole mysterious asshole thing you got going on. She’s a good option to help you loosen up. However, I doubt she wants a quick hookup knowing her,” Alex rambles on. Schlatt rolls his eyes at him. He’s not interested in hooking up with anyone, much less an annoying rich girl who sounds like she owns a farm.

“I think I’m good. Thanks though. I’m going to get some more free booze. How about you go entertain your girl so you can get laid tonight,” Schlatt tells him.

Thankfully Alex takes his advice and goes over to Gia. Schlatt goes back over to the jungle juice and takes a few shots. After he feels like he has taken advantage of the free alcohol, he makes his way towards the exit. He looks over to see Alex and Gia busy dancing with each other. Schlatt also sees (Y/N), talking with friends. Her eyes meet his before they fall to the floor.

Schlatt makes his way back to the dorm, stripping down to just his boxers to sleep in. Hopefully, Alex will not be coming in anytime tonight. He closes his eyes, letting sleep take over trying not to think about the pretty blue eyes that he knows he will probably see more than he wants to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: this is just a prologue. I have multiple chapters planned out for this. This is my first time posting a story to Tumblr so let me know what you think. I know Schlatt is a total asshole, but he gets better I promise. He is just very closed off. I plan to add spice after a little bit of character building. I converted this from first person to third person so I hope it’s okay. I may add Ted as one of Schlatt’s friends from back home! As I said, let me know what you think! Thank you for reading! :)

[everythingelvispresley]

Elvis had never lived away from home before, and he was miserable, homesick for his mother, Gladys. “He needed someone to look out for him,” Mansfield says, “and Sergeant Norwood was a good one to do that.” William Norwood, the master sergeant, saw the despair in the kid’s face and took him home so he could call his mother. “When you come in my house, you can let it all out” was Norwood’s fatherly advice. “But when you walk out of my front door, you are now Elvis Presley. You’re an actor. You’re a soldier. So, by God, I want you to act! Don’t let anybody know how you feel on the inside."

When GIs from other companies razzed Elvis during marches, Sergeant Norwood would stop the proceedings and dress the offender down.

Presley reportedly turned down opportunities to tour as a military entertainer or serve as a recruiting pitchman when he was drafted, and generally wanted to be treated as an ordinary soldier. His entry into the Army created a media circus. But officials at Fort Hood, where Presley was assigned to the 2nd Armored Division and underwent basic and advanced training, ordered the media not to interfere with his training, since he was to be treated as any other recruit.

Yet the legend of a young Elvis who lived for about six months with his parents, Vernon and Gladys Presley, in a sprawling one-story house in Killeen has endured in Central Texas lore. Elvis was known to drive a Cadillac, go grocery shopping with his parents at the Piggly Wiggly and sometimes come out onto the front porch in the evenings to sign autographs.

Stories abound of the summer of '58, when Presley, tanned by the Texas sun, would be seen around town. His family rental house on Oak Hill Drive has been a novelty for longtime Killeen residents who drive by to see "the house where Elvis lived."

Teri Hospers, a pediatric cardiologist in San Antonio who attended Nolan Middle School in Killeen in the 1970s, remembers a story one of the teachers there often told about a dog he had as a boy who once bit Elvis. After Presley left Killeen, the dog appeared in a local parade with a sign around its neck, proclaiming "I bit Elvis Presley."

Bitten in backyard:

"To avoid fans gathered at his house, Elvis would run through the neighbors' backyards. That's how he got bitten," Hospers said. "We all thought it was a funny story. In a town like Killeen, it was exciting to have a connection to someone that famous."

Elvis letter to Fort Hood mentor:

Presley had written a heartfelt, two-page letter while serving in the Army in Germany. The letter, signed, "your friend, PFC Elvis Presley," was written by the King of Rock 'n' Roll at a pivotal time in his life, less than three months after his mother died, to a Fort Hood sergeant who mentored the young private and helped him deal with his grief.

In a similar dispatch he wrote from Germany to one of his cousins:

In that letter, sent the same month as to the one to Norwood, Presley wrote of his sadness over the loss of his mother, who had died of a heart attack at age 46.

He even mentioned longing for the "last few wonderful days at Fort Hood" that he spent with her, Livingston said.

Credit Everything Elvis from Shake Rag to Memphis Facebook group

[yourmomsawh0r3]

ghost

pairing: joel miller no apocalypse x f! reader

summary: Joel Miller and Y/N explore an old, eerie mansion together, but when strange whispers and shadows emerge from the darkness.. Joel’s protective instincts kick in.

On a cool October evening, the air crisp and filled with the scent of fallen leaves, Y/N moved into her new home on the edge of a small, wooded town in Texas. She’d always liked old houses with their creaky floors and the charm of history, and this one nestled at the end of a quiet lane was no exception. Joel Miller, her next-door neighbor, had helped her move in, bringing over some tools and muscle. He was gruff but kind, with a guarded smile that made Y/N curious about what lay beneath.

The first few nights passed peacefully enough, but then the odd occurrences began. At first, Y/N thought nothing of it. She’d hear the creak of the stairs at night or feel a sudden chill while reading in the living room. The floors were old, and Texas had unpredictable drafts; there was always a reasonable explanation. But the strange feeling that she wasn’t alone settled into her bones, keeping her up at night.

One evening, as she settled into bed with a book, she heard it a distinct knock coming from downstairs. Her heart skipped a beat, and she listened closely, straining to hear past the hum of the wind outside. It came again, three rhythmic knocks, as if someone was tapping gently on the old oak door at the back of the house.

She tried to shake it off, but as the knocking continued every few minutes, she finally got up, grabbing a flashlight from the bedside drawer. Her footsteps were careful and slow as she made her way down the stairs, gripping the flashlight tightly. But when she reached the back door, it was firmly locked, and no one was there. A chill ran down her spine, and she locked up tight before hurrying back upstairs, double-checking every window.

The next day, she mentioned the strange sounds to Joel when he stopped by to return a borrowed wrench. He raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against her porch railing, but she could see the concern in his eyes.

“Old houses make all kinds of noises,” he said, but his voice held a note of doubt. “But if you hear it again, call me, alright?”

She nodded, trying to laugh it off, but that night the knocking returned, even louder than before. It echoed through the house, each knock more insistent than the last. She called Joel, and within minutes, he was at her front door, flashlight in hand and a serious look on his face.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, stepping inside with a confidence that made her feel just a bit safer. They checked every corner, every room, but the house was empty. Yet, as they stood in the darkened kitchen, she swore she heard the faintest whisper—a voice that seemed to murmur from the walls themselves. Joel heard it too, because he tensed beside her, his jaw clenching tight.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered, gripping his arm. Joel nodded slowly, his brow furrowing.

He didn’t leave that night. Instead, he insisted on staying, pulling out the old sofa bed in her living room and keeping his flashlight close. Y/N was grateful; she couldn’t imagine spending another night alone with whatever presence lingered in the shadows.

Just past midnight, they both awoke to the sound of footsteps, heavy and deliberate, pacing back and forth above them in the attic. Joel shot up, grabbing the flashlight, while Y/N clutched a blanket to her chest, her heart racing. She didn’t need to say anything; they both knew they had to check it out.

They made their way up the narrow stairs, every creak underfoot adding to the tension. When they reached the attic door, Joel took a breath, glanced at her, and slowly pushed it open. The air inside was musty, filled with the scent of old wood and dust, but the footsteps had stopped.

“Stay here,” he murmured, stepping into the darkness.

The beam of his flashlight swept across old furniture and dusty trunks, revealing nothing unusual. But then, as Y/N stood at the threshold, she caught sight of something in the corner a shadow, darker than the rest, shifting as if it were moving toward Joel. She barely had time to call out his name before the shadow seemed to lunge, and Joel stumbled back, swearing under his breath.

But just as suddenly as it came, the shadow dissipated, leaving only the quiet rustling of the wind through a broken window pane. Joel’s flashlight flickered, then steadied, casting long, eerie shadows across the attic floor.

“Joel, what was that?” Y/N’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

He shook his head, his face pale in the dim light. “I don’t know. But it’s not nothing, that’s for sure.”

For the next few days, the strange occurrences only grew more intense. Doors that were left closed would be found wide open. Lights flickered, even when they replaced the bulbs. Y/N started to feel a chill even in the midday sun, like a cold breath down the back of her neck. Joel came over more often, helping her research the house’s history and looking for logical explanations, but deep down, they both knew something unexplainable was at play.

One evening, Y/N found an old journal hidden in the attic floorboards. It was brittle and yellowed, filled with scrawled handwriting from a woman named Beatrice, who had lived in the house over a century ago. Her entries started out mundane, recounting daily life, but gradually turned darker, filled with ramblings about a presence that haunted her every step, whispering her name in the dead of night.

As Y/N read the final entry aloud to Joel, a chill filled the room, and a sudden gust of wind slammed the attic door shut behind them. They both jumped, and Y/N dropped the journal, her hands trembling. Joel quickly crossed the room to the door, trying to pull it open, but it wouldn’t budge.

The whispers came again, louder this time, surrounding them from every corner of the attic. Y/N pressed her hands over her ears, but it was as if the voice seeped into her very bones. She glanced at Joel, whose face had hardened with determination.

“We’re getting out of here,” he said, his voice rough, but there was a fierceness in his eyes that made her nod.

He threw his weight against the door until it finally splintered open, and they tumbled out into the hallway. They didn’t stop until they reached the safety of the living room, where the whispers faded, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths.

Joel pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she trembled. “We’re not staying here another night. Pack your bags, and you’re coming with me,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Y/N didn’t argue. She glanced back at the house one last time as they left, feeling a sense of sadness for whatever haunted the place, but knowing that she couldn’t stay any longer. Joel’s truck rumbled down the dark lane, and she leaned her head against the window, the journal clutched tightly in her hands.

As they drove into the night, Y/N felt a strange sense of relief, like a weight had lifted. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that some part of the house some part of Beatrice’s story had followed them, lingering in the shadows just beyond the reach of their headlights.

And just before they rounded the bend, Y/N thought she saw a figure standing in the attic window, watching them go, a dark silhouette against the pale moonlight.

[rotten-corpses-blog]

Slasher men with a southern reader

Hey! so something is up with my tumblr, I started writing someone's request, saved it to drafts and now its gone...

So I wrote this, because i'm a little southern girlie (Help i'm dying down here) If, you aren't southern, or are and don't have the same experience as me, that's ok. I'm writing this from what I delt with as a kid living in the Southern United States.

Characters: JD, Billy Loomis, Stu Matcher..... Content Warning: mentions of bigotry, and republicans, poverty and food insecurity mentions

JD

 JD is actually from Texas, so I don’t think he would really have a problem with any accents or anything of that nature.

 Depending on where you are from in the south is also important, he understands Texas culture… not any other parts of the south. (yes there is different culture depending on where you are, some parts use different words and phrases than others, food is also different) 

He would be understanding about family who have… different political opinions and all that.

He gets the poverty and food insecurity, because he saw that stuff traveling around from place to place.

Billy

Billy is from California, he grew up with none of the stuff you did so he’s not going to get it, he’s not an asshole, you just have to explain it.

He probably won’t understand any type of southern accent, even if you feel it’s mild, he still can’t understand you sometimes.

After awhile he will pick up on some of your speech patterns and start saying y’all and ain’t

If you grew up in poverty, he will kinda be weirded out. He’s a rich kid from California and has never experienced, or maybe ever saw poverty.

If your family is anything like mine, they will bitch and moan about him being from California. He doesn’t see it as a big deal, it’s not like they have to learn a new language.

He will be kinda shocked when he meets them. “Y/N… your uncle is crazy!” “No, he’s just like that, don’t worry Billy.”

Stu

If you thought Billy was bad, Stu is worse.

Not only will he not understand anything, he most likely grew up thinking all southern people were cowboys or farmers.

He grows to love southern food and will ask you to make him something almost everyday.

He’s even richer, so he seriously thought for a while that everyone had houses like his and designer clothes. 

Again, he’s a Cali boy. You couldn’t pay him to set foot on a farm or anything like that. “Y/N, we pay people to do our yard work, That’s why it looks so good!”

He loves your conservative relatives, he thinks they are so funny. I mean, we all love a good conspiracy theory on and again.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Timeline—

Au Masterlist!!

Evangeline "Angie" Chandler is from Dallas, Texas. She was raised there by her mother and father, alongside her older and younger sister.

Her mother played hockey alongside Ellen when they were little and remained one of her closest friends up until graduating from college, the two of them lost contact as their lives got busy and they both gained a career and families.

But they got close again when a scout reached out to the Chandler family and offered Angie a position on the USNTDP team, while they were searching for a suitable Billet family they saw Ellen and Jim's names on the list of available rooms and knew that Angie would be in good hands.

Ellen had quite the house full, Quinn was at Umich, Luke and Jack were still at home, and Angie and Alex Turcotte moved into the remaining spare bedrooms as Billet kids. It was hectic, but was so much fun.

Angie loved living with the Hughes, and Ellen quickly became her idol as the mother helped her through the acclimation to playing on an all-boys team, she helped with the tears and the breakdowns, talking her out of quitting her sport when her actual mother couldn't be there to help her through it all.

Angie finishes out her two years with the program, makes an insane name for herself, and suddenly she gets a call from the NHL inviting her out to the combine

The Combine goes well, she is obviously athletically gifted so she does all of the testing just fine, her interviews with teams were a little disheartening, but her ones with the Devils and the Sabres both felt really promising.

Now that it's known throughout the league that a girl was invited out to participate amongst the boys she's getting a little anxious about how real this all is

People either hate her or love her, her stats were impeccable so many hockey lovers are really rooting for her, whereas some people just absolutely hate her

So it becomes a lot, ESPN does a little documentary on her life and achievements, NHL does one on her impact within the program, its a lot of positive media where she's sharing her struggle to be seen as an equal.

She sat through many sexist interviews and read many disgusting tabloids about her that all lacked the conversation of hockey and focused more on literally anything else

But people still really hate her, her 'softness' is not the type of thing the league is built for blah blah blah, misogynistic bullshit.

Anyways, the draft comes around and she is a part of the League "Welcome to the NHL" video along with Cole, Jack, and a few other draftees.

She wore a lavender suit with a list of Women who pushed and fought to get her where she is in life on the inside of her jacket along with a tiny Ellen Hughes quote that said "Give 'em hell," an homage to the woman who pushed her the most.

She was trending on Twitter the second she stepped on that carpet, she was so obsessed with reading how much people hated her as she sat in the stands, that her dad had to take her phone to calm her nerves.

Jack went first like she knew he would, and she was the first person he went to hug after he went through his whole family, whispering a short "I owe this all to you," as she shook her head and hugged him tightly.

She wasn't drafted in the end, and she was so upset, but she was more upset with herself for even thinking that being in the NHL was a possibility.

She ends up crying in Ellen's arms outside of the arena, realizing that nothing she could do would ever be good enough.

She almost quits hockey that summer, but Quinn calls her outraged when she doesn't show up for the first summer training session.

"So that's it?" he asks over the phone. "I don't know what else I can do Q, I've done everything I can at this point, it's not worth the fight anymore" He let out a bitter laugh, "So you just let them win?" she sat for a second in silence before he spoke up again, "I'm not allowing that Chandler, I better see you tomorrow or I will show up to your house and drag you here myself." It was safe to say that she went the next day, but the real emotional moment was when Jim texted her telling her that he missed her at practice to tell her he was proud of her for pushing past it all

Then she was off to university, much like most of the USNTDP boys, Jack and Quinn are both now in the League playing their rookie years

Her collegiate rookie year was the same year as covid so it's pretty bland, her team and roommate are the only people she gets to be around so she felt very isolated by the end of the year

Before the entire world shut down though she got a chance to visit Jack during her reading week, and this is where she meets Nico for the first time

It was literally just a week of him and her giving each other heart eyes, Jack was over it the second it started, he wanted time with his Angie and Nico was ruining it.

By the end of her trip, Jack had practically locked her in his room and said that she couldn’t leave until it was time to go home cause he wanted to hang out with just her for a few days, with no Nico, and no distractions.

Luke got drafted in 2021, and she was asked to join Quinn and Jack in a video tribute for him and the Hughes for ESPN, she gladly reached out and accepted the interview.

It was at that time that a producer told her that if she ever wanted to give up her pipe dream, she could always have the backup of reporting or journalism. She was not a fan of that comment.

She was also there to witness Jack’s over-the-top reaction, which she still relentlessly bullies him for.

She spoke a little to Pat Brisson that night, and he hinted that shortly, the league is gonna do some growing and he wants to be the one to represent her if there ever comes a time that she needs it. She tells him that she’ll reach out if she ever needs to.

She became an Assistant/Alternate captain in her second year (2021-2022) and she loved it, she really grew into her role as a leader and her team was amazing.

Nothing happened over the summer of ‘22 other than training, and a summer fling that she meets at a bar in Michigan.

Fall semester 2022 starts and she’s back in Minnesota, but around a month in she gets a call from the devs asking to meet with her.

Nico, Lindy, Tom Fitzgerald, and a few other legal and coaching staff representatives are the few people in the room as they go over the terms and conditions of her joining the team.

It was summed up to her that she was being brought in as that “glue” character in their locker room, that she was to bring that close-knit family structure that they were missing. The staff had heard from many sources that she was the girl they were gonna want to bring this feeling to, so the devs were the first to take a chance on her.

Nico asked her out a few weeks later and it was a hard no, she was almost a little offended that he even attempted.

So there starts the heat of awkward tension between them, they have amazing chemistry, they play the same line, and they spend nearly every waking second in each other's presence, but there is still some tension between the two of them that seems a little less than friendly and slightly flirty.

Angie is not looking for romance whatsoever, she has a shot at a career, and to her, it seems like Nico is trying to jeopardize her place on the team, or that he doesn't see her as a teammate so she is not only mad but also really hurt that he would act like he wants her there but also through his actions shows that he doesn't.

He doesn't get that, he's a man, and he worked hard to get where he is but he's never faced the same challenges as her so he doesn't see how the weight of his actions could affect her shot at a professional career.

She attended the 2023 all-star weekend in Florida with Jack, and they had a blast, she's the one who sunk Sidney in the dunk tank which was a “mega slay” as she explained it to the reporter on sight (her media training went right out the window the second she saw Crosby)

Her being a locker room staple on the team obviously worked cause they make playoffs!!

She plays a really good run too, with 12 points in her 10 games, but she gets injured in game 4 against the Canes and she didn't play game 5

She sprained her knee and broke her wrist from a hit to the boards and was actually distraught when she was told she couldn't play for the rest of the run. She thought the boys would back her up, and she wanted to prove that she wasn't soft and could continue, but Nico put his foot down and told them that they had to think about her health first and not the possibility of a win.

She somehow found herself at the Stanley Cup finals a few weeks later, helping with commentary for ESPN, she was on a panel with Biz and Gretzky which was both equally terrifying and hilarious.

Angie also attended her first-ever NHL awards ceremony, she was a finalist for ‘Rookie of the Year’ and she won!!!

Nico saw her in her gown and was literally like 😻😻😻 the entire night, Lindy would not let him live it down either, he was relentlessly bullying the Captain every time he even glanced at the girl who was basically the fan favourite on the carpet.

Her summer is spent with a strict physical therapy regimen, but she still has a lot of fun, even attended the Tkachuck wedding with the Hughes’

She spends a week in Sweden with Jesper cause his mother really wants to meet this girl whom both Nicole and Jesper raved about during the season.

Going into her sophomore year she was so scared of ending up in a slump, and she did absolutely that from stressing about it so much.

Her sophomore year is also the year she realizes just how loved she is by the team, because of this slump all of the boys are doing everything in their power to get her through it.

It's also the year she realizes that she might be in love with her captain, but she definitely pushes that thought far to the back of her mind, not willing to think or reflect on it cause she needs to focus on herself and her career.

At this point, Nico has accepted that she views him as a teammate and nothing more so he is just focused on the betterment of the team, but deep down he knows that he will never meet someone more perfect for him than her.

Luke puts him into perspective during training camp while he's bitching about how he doesn't understand why she just won't let him be happy. And Luke being the basically little brother he is just sits up and rips into Nico for being so blind.

"It's like no one in this locker room realizes how much harder she worked for this than we all did?" he looked at the captain as everyone quieted, "she has a point to prove, you just have to play hockey, she has to show that she is worthy to even ben considered equal" and with that, he headed out to the ice, stunning Nico, his brother, and literally everyone in the room.

So that's why he has dropped any type of advances for her that he was trying to pursue, realizing that he was only harming her by trying to chase whatever feelings he had.

Angie on the other end is dealing with a mental battle, cause she never wants to be known as that girl who gets on this team and starts sleeping with her captain, having a reputation followed by a negative connotation is the last thing she wants.

But it's the holidays, they are in Ohio and are celebrating a win against the Blue Jackets in one of the hotel conference rooms, and Nico and her have not left each other's sides all night. The two of them decide to step out for a second of air, cold air filling their lungs as they just quietly stare at each other. The night had been filled with fleeting glances and quick moments of physical touch as they sat next to each other, thighs brushing against each other and hands momentarily touching. So now they are standing outside with this thick tension between them, and she just kisses him.

It's safe to say that she runs straight to her hotel after profusely apologizing to him, his eyes wide as she steps away from him with shaky hands and then just leaves him in shock.

She calls Quinn immediately, she doesn't know why, but she needs to tell someone, and she can't tell Jack, she sure as shit can't tell Trevor or any of the other USNTDP boys, so she calls her basically older brother.

Quinn assures her that she isn't going to get kicked off the team for a simple kiss, and Nico will surely be fine in the morning

Nico is just absolutely gagged, so he's fine, just shocked.

She literally can't look at him for weeks, and he's going insane from her ignoring him, so he pulls her aside and is like 'This needs to stop'

Nico stops her on her way out of Lindy's office and says he needs to talk, she is literally frozen in fear as they walk to an empty room. "Are we okay?" "I am so sorry," they say at the same time as they just stare at each other. "Why are you sorry?" "I kissed you? and it was weird and unprofessional?" "It's fine, just stop being weird about it, it happened, we move past it," he said, trying not to smother her with the feelings that he's still trying to keep it at bay, "do you regret it?" "Yes," is all she says before sighing and watching him nod and leave the room.

They both know she doesn't actually regret it, she is just doing what is best for her and for her name.

I have no idea how they get together just yet, so if you guys have any ideas lmk!!!

-

-

-