#sarah counsell

[nerds-yearbook]

In 1890, painter Vincent Van Gough was troubled by an invisible monster that he alone could see. He found help with the sudden appearance of a time traveling alien known as the Doctor (Doctor 11) and his companion Amy. ("Vincent and the Doctor", Doctor Who, vlm 3, TV) Later that year, Vincent was inspired to paint a picture of the TARDIS, the Doctor’s time/space machine, exploding. ("The Pandorica Opens", Doctor Who, TV)

[nickbutnodick]

weird

[felassan]

SAG AFTRA news update:

"SAG-AFTRA Members Who Work on Video Games Go on Strike July 25th A.I. Protections Remain the Sticking Point SAG-AFTRA National Executive Director & Chief Negotiator Duncan Crabtree-Ireland, acting under the authority delegated by the SAG-AFTRA National Board, and with the unanimous advice and counsel of the Interactive Media Agreement Negotiating Committee, called a strike of the Interactive Media Agreement, effective July 26 at 12:01 a.m. Today’s vote to strike comes after more than a year and a half of negotiations without a deal. The convenience bargaining group with whom SAG-AFTRA is negotiating includes Activision Productions Inc., Blindlight LLC, Disney Character Voices Inc., Electronic Arts Productions Inc., Formosa Interactive LLC, Insomniac Games Inc., Llama Productions LLC, Take 2 Productions Inc., VoiceWorks Productions Inc., and WB Games Inc. Any game looking to employ SAG-AFTRA talent to perform covered work must sign on to the new Tiered-Budget Independent Interactive Media Agreement, the Interim Interactive Media Agreement or the Interim Interactive Localization Agreement. These agreements offer critical A.I. protections for members. Negotiations began in October 2022 and on Sept. 24, 2023, SAG-AFTRA members approved a video game strike authorization with a 98.32% yes vote. Although agreements have been reached on many issues important to SAG-AFTRA members, the employers refuse to plainly affirm, in clear and enforceable language, that they will protect all performers covered by this contract in their A.I. language. “We’re not going to consent to a contract that allows companies to abuse A.I. to the detriment of our members. Enough is enough. When these companies get serious about offering an agreement our members can live — and work — with, we will be here, ready to negotiate,” stated SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher.   “The video game industry generates billions of dollars in profit annually. The driving force behind that success is the creative people who design and create those games. That includes the SAG-AFTRA members who bring memorable and beloved game characters to life, and they deserve and demand the same fundamental protections as performers in film, television, streaming, and music: fair compensation and the right of informed consent for the A.I. use of their faces, voices, and bodies. Frankly, it’s stunning that these video game studios haven’t learned anything from the lessons of last year - that our members can and will stand up and demand fair and equitable treatment with respect to A.I., and the public supports us in that,” said Crabtree-Ireland. “Eighteen months of negotiations have shown us that our employers are not interested in fair, reasonable A.I. protections, but rather flagrant exploitation. We refuse this paradigm – we will not leave any of our members behind, nor will we wait for sufficient protection any longer. We look forward to collaborating with teams on our Interim and Independent contracts, which provide A.I. transparency, consent and compensation to all performers, and to continuing to negotiate in good faith with this bargaining group when they are ready to join us in the world we all deserve." said Interactive Media Agreement Negotiating Committee Chair Sarah Elmaleh.  For more information and to search whether a video game is struck, please visit sagaftra.org/videogamestrike."

[source]

[punkshort]

Evergreen | Chapter Three: Bargaining

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel are left to deal with the fallout of Sarah discovering your relationship.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, grief, mentions of OC deaths, mostly Joel POV but it swaps back and forth, super soft Joel, heartbreak, grief counseling

WC: 7.4K

Series Masterlist

Joel still smelled your perfume in his beard as he stood outside of Sarah's door, one hand propped on his hip, the other holding himself up against the frame. He stared at the locked door, the sound of some female pop singer blasting angrily through the speakers on her dresser.

This was not how things were supposed to go. This was not how he wanted his daughter to find out.

Even as his fist pummeled loudly against the door, wood rattling in its hinges as he shouted at Sarah to open up, he couldn't get the distressed look on your face out of his mind.

Coward. Asshole.

He had froze. He was too stunned and shocked that Sarah arrived a week early for a visit. He thought he would have had more time to conjure up what he would tell his daughter about the new and exciting woman in his life. The woman who made him happy, who cared for him, the woman he wanted to care for in return.

He vaguely remembered you fixing your bra underneath your shirt, skin red hot with embarrassment as Sarah's eyes bounced back and forth between her father and a much younger woman.

"Who the hell is this?" Sarah had spat with a look of distaste. You smoothed down your hair and looked at Joel, expecting him to say something, but he was still panicking. Immobilized. So you stood and gave her an awkward smile, offering your name and your apologies. His daughter scanned you up and down once and ignored your outstretched hand. Instead, she pinned all her energy and focus on Joel.

"Dad? W-what is this? What's going on?"

You slowly dropped your arm and looked back at Joel, both women waiting for him to act. To fucking do something. When it became clear Joel wasn't making a move and it became too uncomfortable to stand there any longer, you walked to the front door.

That's when he finally blinked and snapped out of it.

"Wait! Where're you goin'?" he had asked as you slipped your sneakers back on.

"Home. You guys should talk," you said without looking up.

"But-"

"It's fine, Joel," you had said once you straightened up. But when he saw the look in your eye, he could tell it was anything but fine. "We'll talk tomorrow. Or... whenever."

His heart lurched out of his chest. It felt like he was being split in two. He didn't want you to go. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to grab onto you, to not let you leave. But when he looked back at Sarah, at the hurt and confusion clouding her face, he knew you were right.

So as much as it killed him, he nodded tightly and softly promised you call you as soon as he could. After what he had expected to be a calm and rational conversation with his daughter. One hour later, and Sarah had yet to say a single word to him. Each passing minute made his blood boil even more.

"Sarah! Open the goddamn door!"

"No!" she shouted back from the other side. Joel groaned and turned around, then leaned up against the wall next to her door and closed his eyes. His patience was wearing thin.

He knew she wouldn't take the news well. Deep down, he always knew. Tommy tried to tell him otherwise, but Joel knew his daughter better than anyone on earth.

And he couldn't really blame her. It had been just the two of them for so long, to invite a new person into the fold was... a lot, to say the least.

"Sarah, will you please just - talk to me?" he yelled over the music.

He tipped his head to the side, waiting for her answer. An answer that never came.

"Sarah?"

"Leave me alone!" she cried out, then a moment later something soft hit the door. Joel imagined her angrily throwing her pillow and he rolled his eyes.

He wanted to argue with her. Wanted to remind her she was an adult now and what she was doing was immature, but he was exhausted. It had been a long day and any other time, he would have been asleep for almost three hours already. He glanced at his watch and pushed off the wall.

"When you're done with your damn tantrum, come find me," he said into the locked door, then trudged down the hall to his room and closed the door.

He collapsed into bed with a deep sigh, the bass from Sarah's room thumping against the walls, the noise matching the pounding headache he was quickly cultivating. With an exasperated groan, he dragged his palms down his face, fingers pressing into his eyes to dull some of the pain for a moment.

What a fucking mess.

He sighed and hauled himself to his feet, forced himself to go to his bathroom, and washed up. He popped two Tylenol, then flicked off the lights before shuffling to bed.

It was almost midnight. He stared at his cell phone, finger hovering over your name. It was late, but as he weighed his options, he decided it would be worse if he didn't call you.

Besides, selfishly... he really needed to hear your voice.

He dialed your number before he could overthink it.

"Hello?"

His chest ached at how tired you sounded.

"Hey."

He waited a beat before taking a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry. 'Bout earlier. She wasn't supposed to come home til next weekend."

He heard some movement on your end, some fabric rustling before you replied.

"It's okay. How - how did it go?"

His eyes drifted towards his closed door, music still thumping loudly from Sarah's room.

"She ain't talkin' to me."

You sighed heavily through the phone and he swallowed.

"She'll come 'round. I think it was just a shock. Never saw me so much as holdin' hands with another woman her whole life, let alone..." he trailed off and nervously scratched his beard.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, and a feeling of dread washed over him.

"Maybe it's for the best," you said, voice trembling like you were trying to fight the emotion from reaching through the phone.

"W-what'dya mean?" he stammered. Something didn't feel right.

"I mean -" he heard you sniffle and his heart began to race. "Maybe it's good she interrupted us. I mean, I don't mean - shit. Just that - maybe it was a sign, you know?"

Joel shook his head and straightened his spine, phone clutched so tightly in his hand he thought it might splinter.

"No, I don't know. A sign that... what?"

"A sign that..." your voice wobbled clearly now and he closed his eyes. "That we shouldn't be doing this."

"Why? Why would you think that?" he pleaded. His heart sunk in his chest and he could feel the tears burning the backs of his eyes as his world slowly crumbled around him.

"I-I don't know. I don't want to come between you and your daughter, Joel -"

"You ain't," he insisted, "Please don't think that. You ain't comin' between us. She just - she needs some time, is all."

"... and m-maybe I'm not as ready to move on as I thought."

Joel paused. It felt like, for one moment, the world stopped spinning. How could he argue with you about that? As much as it hurt him to hear, as much as the past few weeks told him otherwise, he couldn't tell you how to feel.

"Oh," was all he managed to say.

"I'm sorry," you told him, voice soft and filled with sadness.

Joel sniffed and shook his head. He could feel his throat closing up. His head was still pounding but at least Sarah's music finally fucking stopped.

"Don't be sorry."

There was a long pause after that. A silence filled with despair as Joel struggled to find the right thing to say. His head was spinning. How did everything fall apart so quickly?

"I -" he began, then swallowed the lump in his throat when his voice came out broken. "I can wait. I'll ... I'll wait. Whatever it takes."

"Um," your voice bled through the phone, and this time he could tell for certain you had been silently crying. "It's getting late," you finally said with a shaky breath.

"Oh... okay," he replied thickly as two tears slipped down his cheeks.

"I'll... I'll see you around."

He nodded until he remembered you couldn't see him.

"Yeah. Okay."

The line went dead. Joel stared at his phone in his hand, vision blurring with tears. He tossed it onto the bed next to him and laid down, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut tight, wondering how long it would take for the pain to go away that time.

Coffee didn't touch the migraine he woke up with the following morning. He tossed and turned all night, his muscles aching from the tension riddling his body. If he had to guess, he might have gotten three hours of sleep.

"Thought you told me you were running in the mornings?"

Joel looked up from his spot at the kitchen table, his third cup of coffee growing cold between his hands.

"Didn't feel like it today."

He dropped his gaze back to the table, pain blossoming once again in his chest when he remembered the look on your face, the tone of your voice, the shaky breaths through the phone.

He listened to Sarah move around the kitchen. Pulling a clean mug from the cupboard. Splashing her coffee with a bit of milk. The clink of the spoon around the ceramic.

Joel continued to stare down at his reflection in his coffee when she sat down across from him.

"Do you usually run with her?" Sarah asked, venom lacing her voice. Joel's hackles raised. She was looking for a fight and he was not in the fucking mood.

"No. I go too early," he said through gritted teeth.

Sarah huffed and took a loud slurp from her mug.

"So she just lays in your bed til you get back? Real supportive," she muttered dismissively. Joel's jaw clenched and his fingers wrapped tightly around his coffee.

"Knock it off," he growled. Sarah's eyes flickered up to meet his over the rim of her mug. "You ain't got the first idea what you're talkin' 'bout."

She scowled at him. "Fine. Enlighten me, then. Tell me about her. What does she do?"

Joel took a stiff sip of coffee. "She ain't workin' at the moment. She's been applyin' places."

Sarah gave him a dry laugh and flopped her arms on top of the table, exasperated. "Dad. Come on. You gotta see what I'm seeing, right?"

Joel just shook his head and kept his eyes down, fighting back every instinct to fall into an argument with his daughter.

"Dad," Sarah said, her voice softer when she reached across the table and placed a hand on his arm. "She's young and she doesn't have a job. Do I need to spell it out for you? What she's doing?"

"She ain't doin' anythin'. Leave it alone," he barked before standing up to rinse out his mug. Sarah swiveled around in her chair to watch him at the sink.

"I don't blame you, Dad. This happens all the time. Girls take advantage of men going through a mid-life crisis or whatever-"

"What?" Joel hissed, dropping his mug in the sink so he could look at her. Sarah shrugged.

"You're fifty-one. It's the very definition of mid-life."

"Quit talkin' before you piss me off," he said, turning back to the sink.

"I'm just trying to look out for you!" Sarah protested, standing up so she could join him in the kitchen. "You can't see it but just try to take a second and think: why would a girl that young be into someone your age?"

"She's thirty-one, she's an adult," he replied, aggressively drying his mug with a towel. "And she's got plenty of money. More money than me. She ain't - this ain't - goddamnit," he cursed, recklessly shoving his mug back in the cupboard before turning around and folding his arms across his chest.

"She told you she's got money but she doesn't have a job?" Sarah asked suspiciously. "And how did she acquire this money?"

"She inherited it," Joel told her with a shake of his head. He wasn't even sure why he was entertaining Sarah's ridiculous theory. He knew it wasn't true but it didn't even matter now, anyway.

"Oh, god, Dad," Sarah whined sympathetically. "You didn't seriously believe that, did you? God, she really has done a number on you-"

"Hey!" he said, pushing off the counter and taking a step closer. His face was flushed with anger and his head was still pounding, fueling the storm inside him. Sarah was a good kid. He could count on one hand how many times he had to punish her in her life, so he probably let that particular argument go on longer than he should have, but now he had reached his limit.

"Do I gotta remind you who you're talkin' to? I'm your father. You don't get to speak to me like I'm a goddamn child. I know what I'm doin', and you got no fuckin' clue what's been goin' on 'round here. I'm done talkin' 'bout it."

He brushed past Sarah, leaving her gobsmacked in the middle of the kitchen, eyes trialing after him as he stormed up the stairs to take a shower.

Some distance helped him cool off, but anger still simmered in his veins as he was getting dressed. At the last second, he snatched a pair of running shorts, deciding to go for a run after all. Maybe it would help blow off some steam.

He jogged down the stairs, feet landing a little louder than normal. He almost reached for his phone but then decided against it. The only person he wanted to hear from wouldn't be contacting him, anyway.

"Sarah? I'm goin'-"

Joel stopped short when he entered the living room to find Tommy sitting across from his daughter. It appeared he had interrupted their conversation, and by the looks of it, he could guess it was about him.

"I'm goin' for a run," he finished saying, tone flat.

"Okay," she replied, eyes flickering between the two brothers for a moment. One look at Tommy's face and Joel knew Sarah had filled him in on the past twelve hours. He turned towards the door and bent to tie his sneakers when Tommy stood.

"Hey, uh, sounds like everyone got off on the wrong foot last night," Tommy began. Joel kept his focus pinned on his shoes when his brother asked if he could give you a call to stop by, to maybe start fresh.

"No need. It's over."

Joel straightened up and reached for the door, but Tommy stopped him.

"Over?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose.

"Yep. She called it off. It's done."

Tommy's face fell but Joel didn't see it. Instead, he rushed out the front door before they could see the hurt in his eyes. It was too fresh. He needed some space to think things through. And he really couldn't stomach the pleased look Sarah likely had when she heard the news.

"The hell's gotten into you?" Tommy asked, swirling around once Joel slammed the door shut behind him. "He's finally happy, finally gettin' back out there-"

"With someone twenty years younger than him, uncle Tommy!"

"Gimme a goddamn break, kid!" Tommy huffed, collapsing into the recliner and dragging his palm roughly down his face.

"Why couldn't he go for someone his age? He looks like a- a creep! She's closer to age with me than him!" she protested, but Tommy just shook his head.

"He tell you anythin' 'bout her? How they met? Who she is?"

Sarah slowly shook her head and leaned back into the couch. "Just that she's magically very rich without having a job."

"Yeah, 'cause her fiancé died a year ago. Some hotshot author. She moved down here 'cause he's from Austin, and now she's all alone. They met at that - that group we were tellin' him to go to."

Sarah was silent for a moment, staring down at her lap and picking mindlessly at her chipped nail polish.

"She gave your dad some books for you. For him, too, to read so he had somethin' to share with you." Tommy nodded towards the bookshelf that was adorned with trinkets and framed photos but now housed a stack of familiar looking books.

Sarah stood and tilted her head to the side, reading the titles with a frown.

"I love this series," she said softly, fingertip brushing gently along the binding. "She was married to Daniel Davis?"

"Engaged," Tommy corrected, "but, yeah. Died in that wreck on the forty-five. She was in the car."

Sarah swiveled around in surprise.

"I remember. I was devastated," she murmured, gaze dropping sadly to the floor. "He was supposed to do a bunch of book signings the following week. I was gonna ask Dad to take me."

"She ain't tryin' to take advantage of him," Tommy said once Sarah slumped back into the couch. "They have a lot in common, and she treats him good. Takes care of him. And I think she's the reason he's runnin' and eatin' better, but he won't admit it."

Sarah crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "But why does she have to be so young?"

Tommy looked at his niece for a moment, perplexed.

"Why do you..." then he trailed off when he saw Sarah's eyes flicker over to a photo above the fireplace. One of her, Joel and her mother on Christmas Eve. All fight left his body when he saw the look on her face.

"It ain't really 'bout the age, is it?" he asked softly.

Sarah shot him a look, narrowing her eyes in his direction before stubbornly gazing out the window.

"I ... I don't know."

Tommy pressed his lips into a thin line and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

"No one's gonna replace your mom, kid. Y'know that, right?"

Sarah just shrugged and continued to stare blankly out the front window.

Tommy gave her a moment before trying again.

"He didn't have anyone 'cept us for ten years. He's lonely, baby girl. And he found someone who's just as lonely as him. Both of 'em tryin' to - hell, I dunno." Tommy raked his fingers through his hair and sat back with a sigh. "Tryin' to get a second crack at it. It's fuckin' scary, y'know? Took a lot for your dad to put himself out there and take a chance. Was real worried 'bout you, and at the time I didn't get it, but..." He trailed off and swiped his palm over his mouth. "You two've been through somethin' terrible, but so has she. I can't remember the last time I've seen him so happy. They're good for each other."

Sarah's eyes drifted back to his, now misty.

"I thought I was cool with the idea of him moving on," she said quietly. "But when I saw them, I just... it hurt. More than I thought."

Tommy nodded and leaned forward to gently tap on her knee.

"Tell 'em that. And apologize, for Christ's sakes."

Sarah dragged in a shaky breath and nodded before swiping casually at the corner of her eye.

"He probably hates me now. I ruined everything."

Tommy laughed. "He can't ever hate you, and you know it. Couples have bumps in the road. He can fix it. Just - cut him some slack, yeah?"

She gave Tommy a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, alright."

It was almost twenty minutes later when Joel came back from his run, his grey tshirt soaked with sweat. His ankles were already sending jolts of pain up to his knees and he hadn't even taken his sneakers off. He ran too hard, harder than usual. He pushed himself because he was angry and wanted to take his frustration out on the pavement. Now the rest of his afternoon was shaping up to be one filled with discomfort, but he took solace in the fact that it might help distract him.

"Where's your uncle?" Joel panted when he spotted Sarah in the living room, reading a book. He walked past her without waiting for an answer. Joel grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge so he could chug it, too impatient to wait for his glass to fill up from the faucet.

"He left a few minutes ago," she said, trailing into the room after him. He was still greedily drinking down his ice cold water when his eyes locked onto the book in her hand. She noticed and looked down at the cover.

"I love these books."

Joel swiped his mouth with his forearm and nodded.

"I know."

"Did you - are you reading them?" she asked, peering up at him. Joel shrugged and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Tried to but fantasy ain't exactly my thing. Kept readin' the same page over and over tryin' to figure out what the hell was goin' on."

Sarah grinned and hopped up onto one of the barstools.

"Uncle Tommy told me where you got them," she said, her tone light. "Did you know I wanted to go to one of his book signings? He had a few scheduled right before he died."

Joel froze. His eyes flickered down to the book and back up to his daughter before shaking his head.

"She gave these to you? For free?" Sarah asked, tapping a finger on the cover. Joel nodded and he could feel his shoulders tightening, bracing for another argument.

"Did she tell you this particular set is, like, incredibly rare? I think there's only..." Sarah trailed off and pulled out her phone. She read something on her screen and looked back up at him. "There's less than five hundred with the leather covers. I mean, just one of these would go for a lot of money online."

Joel took a steadying breath and dropped his gaze to the floor.

"She just said she had boxes of books in his office. Didn't know what to do with 'em all. She found out you were a fan and said I could have 'em."

"Not only that," Sarah continued, ignoring him momentarily so she could flip back to the front of the book. She opened it up and lifted it from the table so she could show him the front page. Joel squinted, seeing something written inside, but he couldn't make it out.

"He signed them. He signed them all. This is a small fortune, Dad."

"Don't sell 'em. I'll give you money if you-"

"I wasn't gonna," she said, cutting him off and gently closing the book. "What I'm trying to say is... that was really nice of her. Like, super nice and generous."

Joel swallowed and nodded. "That's her, in a nutshell. Kind, sweet, generous. Caring. You woulda gotten along if you gave her a chance."

Guilt flashed across Sarah's face. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Joel looked confused at first, struggling to keep up with the change of tone. He was unsure how to respond, but luckily, he didn't have to.

"I'm really sorry, Dad. I was talking to uncle Tommy about everything and he made me realize what a jerk I was."

Sarah's lower lip quivered for a moment while Joel remained stock still, waiting for her to continue.

"I guess I thought I was ready to see you with someone else but when I actually saw it with my own eyes, it felt - well, it hurt. And I took it out on you guys. And I'm so, so sorry I ruined this for you."

She dropped her head when tears burned her eyes. Joel took a few steps forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling Sarah into a hug.

"It's alright, baby girl. I understand."

"But it's not alright. I ruined your first relationship in ten years. I'm fucking awful," she sobbed, clutching at his sweat stained shirt.

Joel chuckled sadly and kissed the top of her head.

"I still got you, don't I?"

Sarah leaned back, tears staining her cheeks as she frowned up at him.

"That's not enough! You need someone with you all the time. Someone to care for you when you're sick and someone to watch those shitty fisherman shows you like."

Joel grinned and pinched her chin before taking a step back.

"I'll manage just fine. I gotta shower, then we can do somethin' together. Wanna go to the movies? Or-"

"No, Dad! You need to get her back!" she exclaimed, her hand subconsciously falling to rest on the book. He must have looked conflicted because Sarah slid down from the barstool and darted around the kitchen island to grab his phone from the charger.

"What're you doin'?" he asked, reaching around her and quickly yanking his phone from her hand.

"You gotta try! Please? Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her it wasn't her fault-"

He looked at his phone. No missed calls or texts.

"I don't know..."

"Just try! Call her! Text her! Whatever you do - just please, try. For me?" Sarah begged with watery eyes. Joel sighed and scratched his beard.

"I'll give it a shot. But it wasn't just what happened last night. She said she's havin' mixed feelin's 'bout bein' ready for somethin' new."

Sarah shook her head. "Then change her mind. I want you to be happy, Dad. I want her to be happy."

He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded.

"Okay. I'm - I'll give her a call."

You sat slumped in your chair next to Ellie, the two of you listening to a regular tell the group about reoccurring nightmares she was having about her sister, who she lost three months prior. Your phone buzzed again in your lap, so you looked down to find yet another text from Joel.

I didn't go to group today cuz I'm trying to give you space but please call me

Ellie watched from the corner of her eye when you slipped your phone into your purse without responding to the message.

"That Joel?"

You nodded and kept your eyes on the speaker.

"Where is he? Late?" Ellie whispered. You shook your head.

"Not coming," you whispered back.

She frowned and sat back in her chair. Something was going on. It was unlike him to not show up and your mood had been shitty all evening.

"Trouble in paradise?" she tried, meaning it as a joke until she saw the way your face pinched and her heart plummeted

"Fuck, I'm sorry. What did he do?" she whispered, then made a face at a woman a few seats down who frowned in her direction.

"Nothing. It was me. I ended it."

"What? Why?" she hissed, blatantly ignoring the looks she was getting for being disruptive.

You just cleared your throat and kept staring straight ahead, patiently waiting for the speaker to finish up. You could feel Ellie's eyes burning holes in the side of your head but you refused to meet her gaze. She would find out the answer to her question soon enough, anyway.

The young woman finished up, stepping away from the front of the room while swiping sadly at the corners of her eyes, then Ryan stood from his chair in the front row and addressed the room.

"Thank you for sharing, Vicky," he said, catching her eye after she sat down with an encouraging smile. He clasped his hands together as he scanned the room. "Is there anybody else who would like to share tonight?"

You bit your lip, heart racing a little when you slowly raised your hand. Ryan noticed the movement and looked slightly surprised, but he recovered well. He extended an arm in your direction and said your name for the group, then stepped to the side. You stood on shaky legs and inched past Ellie, who scrambled to get out of your way. Her wide eyes were glued to your back as you made your way past the rows of folding chairs to stand behind the wobbly podium you were fairly confident was abandoned by a music teacher at some point, then turned to face the group for the very first time.

"Hi," you began softly. You wet your lips nervously as your eyes drifted around the room, taking in the mostly familiar faces. Ryan sat back down in his chair and gave you an encouraging nod. "I lost my fiancé a year ago," you continued. "We were in a car wreck. He was driving. It was dark, we were on our way back from checking out a wedding venue-"

You felt your throat squeeze and you had take a moment. The room was quiet, respectfully and patiently waiting for you to go on.

"A truck hit us. Well, it hit Daniel's side. I was... fine. Mostly. I spent the last year living in our dream house, trying to settle legal issues while also trying to heal." You swallowed, dropping your gaze to your hands folded neatly across the podium. "I don't have anyone here. My family is from Portland and they keep telling me I need to sell the house and move back home. I... I think I've been waiting for a sign, you know? Like a sign to tell me what to do. Go home, or stay in Texas."

Your lower lip trembled when you said, "And then I met someone. Someone who made me happy. Someone who cared for me the same way Daniel cared for me. And I thought I had my sign."

You looked back up and your eyes briefly met Ellie's. Her expression was unreadable, but she was hanging on your every word.

"He's a little older than me. He has a daughter in college," you continued, dragging your eyes away from Ellie. "And he was going to tell her about us when she came home from school for a visit. But..." you trailed off, cheeks burning when you remembered the compromising position Sarah found you in. "She came home a week early to surprise him, I guess, and... well... she didn't exactly have a positive reaction when she walked in our date night."

You cleared your throat and shifted your weight, eager to move past that part of the story.

"The man I've been seeing lost his wife some time ago. His daughter's mother." You intentionally left out that Joel was part of the very same grief counseling group you were addressing, already feeling too exposed and embarrassed as it was. "It was the first time she saw her father with someone other than her mom. I don't blame her one bit," you added, raising your palms slightly in surrender. "But I couldn't help but wonder if I got my sign. If maybe..." you sniffled and dropped your hands back down, twisting your fingers together as you struggled to come up with the right words. "If maybe I was moving on too fast. If maybe I should grieve more." Your eyes flickered up quickly to Ellie when you said quietly, "If maybe I should listen to my parents and move back home."

Ellie stiffened in her chair but otherwise didn't give anything away.

"I feel so selfish," you whispered, staring back down at your hands again. "I already had the love of my life, and it was wonderful. How could I let myself think I deserved to have that again?"

You watched two teardrops fall and splatter across the podium, two perfect circles being absorbed by the wood, joining the countless tears that had been soaked in before you.

"Anyway, that's about it," you said, voice thick as you swiped at your eyes. "I have an appointment next week to meet with a realtor. It's going to be so hard to let go of that house, but I can't keep living there. I see him everywhere and it's just..." you trailed off again and forced your eyes back up. "It's just all too much, I think."

You gave the group a sad smile and stepped away, making to return to your chair when Ryan stood and placed a comforting hand on your arm.

"Hang back for a second after we wrap up, I would really like to talk," he said softly. You nodded and slipped out of his hold, solemnly heading back to your seat and slumping down next to Ellie. You felt like you had run a marathon. Your body was weak and you felt unbelievably tired.

"Dude-"

"I just need a minute," you told her, cutting Ellie off. You knew what she was going to say. She was going to try to convince you to stay and you were so fragile that you just might have let her convince you.

You were the last speaker. Ryan wrapped up the hour with his usual speech and a reminder he is always available to talk before dismissing the group. Everyone stood, hushed voices mingling with the sound of jackets being pulled on and zippers being done up.

"Can we grab a coffee or something?" Ellie tried again when you both stood. You caught Ryan's eye before giving her a tight smile.

"Maybe tomorrow? Ryan asked me to hang back."

She glanced over her shoulder, seeming to consider her options before you laughed softly and poked her in the arm.

"I'm not leaving tonight. I promise, we can talk."

She gave you a half smile before giving you a stern look.

"I'll hold you to it."

With a weak hand salute, you wished her good night, then headed towards the back of the room where Ryan stood by the door talking to an older gentleman holding a cup of coffee. When he spotted you coming, Ryan clapped the man on the shoulder and excused himself.

"Look, I'll get right to the point," he began. His forwardness took you off guard for a second. "You don't talk much here. I've seen you coming back week after week for months. And in my experience, when someone finally speaks up, it's because something is weighing on them so heavily that they have no where else to put it."

You felt frozen, surprised by how quickly he managed to clock you. Then again, it was his job, you supposed. He took your silence as an invitation to continue.

"I'm not sure if you are seeing a therapist but if you aren't, I would really like it if you would consider a few sessions with me." Ryan pulled out a card from his shirt pocket and handed it over. You took it hesitantly.

"I'll even give you the first session on the house. I want to help you work through some of these feelings, and it's totally your choice. But one thing I need to make sure you hear is this: there is no expiration date on grief. And it is completely normal to feel guilty for moving on for the first time, but please, I beg you - do not make any rash decisions until you have had time to properly process everything."

When you dragged your eyes up to meet his, you found nothing but sincerity and kindness staring back at you. Maybe you had been too quick to judge him in the past. He was young, sure, and it was sometimes hard to look past that, but he seemed genuine and caring. Like he really wanted to help people.

"Okay. Yeah. I'll give your office a call," you finally agreed. Ryan smiled, looking relieved.

"Good. There's no need to suffer in silence when there's people around who want to help. And I'm sure I'm not the only one," he added. You couldn't be certain if he was referring to Joel or Ellie. Maybe both. But either way, he wasn't wrong.

You nodded and slipped his card into your purse with the promise again to call before heading back out into the parking lot.

It didn't take much for Ellie to figure out where Joel lived. Given his age, she assumed he would still be the type to have a landline but not only that, he was one of the few remaining people who listed their number and address in the fucking phone book. She gave him points for just listing his name as J. Miller, but she was still shaking her head on the drive over. She couldn't imagine any of her friends putting all their information out in public like that.

"Must be nice being a dude," she muttered under her breath when she pulled up to the curb and cut the engine.

Glancing at the driveway, all she saw was a small red sedan. Joel's truck was nowhere to be found, but she thought maybe it was inside the garage. She pushed the driver's door open and marched up to the front door with a determined look on her face, ready to give Joel a piece of her mind, but when she knocked loudly on the door just to be greeted by a girl her own age, she faltered.

"Can I help you?" the girl asked with a little frown. Ellie squared her jaw and stood up straight.

"Yeah. Is Joel home?"

Now the girl crossed her arms defensively and scowled, immediately picking up on the sharpness in Ellie's voice.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Ellie. We met through a friend," Ellie explained, waving her hand in the air. The grief counseling group wasn't exactly anonymous but she still felt strange broadcasting it, so she chose not to elaborate further. "Something's going on and I need to talk to him. Is he here?"

The other girl still looked suspicious as she eyed Ellie up before finally replying, "No. He's at work but he should be home soon. Can I give him a message?"

Ellie sighed and scratched the back of her neck. She had been so preoccupied with what she was going to say that it didn't even dawn on her who the other girl was until a moment later.

"Wait... are you Joel's daughter?"

She nodded. "Sarah," she offered without extending her hand.

Ellie scoffed and crossed her own arms, mimicking Sarah's posture.

"Oh, so you're the one who caused all this."

Sarah made a face and pushed off the doorframe to stand a little taller.

"Excuse me?"

Then Ellie dropped your name as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and Sarah's face slowly began to soften.

"You ran her out of here last weekend, remember? Now she's talking about moving back to fucking... Portland or wherever. And I need Joel to man the hell up and apologize before she does something stupid."

"I did not run her out of here," Sarah sneered. "I don't know who you think you are but you don't get to come here and-"

"She means a lot to me, okay?" Ellie exclaimed. Her eyes looked a little wild and desperate, causing the words to die on Sarah's tongue. "I can't - she can't leave. I don't have fucking any family and she's really... she's cool." Ellie raked her fingers anxiously through her short hair, heart pounding in her chest at the thought of losing someone close to her again. "She's always there when I need to talk to someone. I know she does the same for your dad. She's a decent person and she's hurting and I need to help make it right."

Sarah cut off Ellie's rambling with her palms held up in the air, signaling for her to stop.

"I apologized to my dad, like, the very next day. He said he would try to get ahold of her. He promised me he would try to fix it. I told him-"

Sarah turned around and bent over to slide on her sneakers. Ellie took a step back, reeling from how quickly the atmosphere between them changed from anger to something else.

"Where are you going?"

"I gotta go find her, don't I? I gotta apologize," Sarah said, grabbing her purse and locking the front door behind her. "What's her address?"

Ellie blinked, pausing for a moment before shaking herself out of her stupor to pull out her phone.

"I only went there once when she gave me an unpublished manuscript written by her dead fiancé," Ellie said before rattling off your address. "It's an old Victorian house and it's got a huge fucking garden out front. Sticks out, you can't miss it."

"Got it, thanks," Sarah mumbled after she tapped it into her phone.

"I have to admit, I really expected this conversation to go differently," Ellie said, following Sarah down the steps of the porch.

"What? You thought I was some cold-hearted bitch who didn't want her own dad to be happy?" Sarah shot back over her shoulder. Ellie shrugged.

"Yeah. Kinda."

"Well, you'd be wrong. I had a shitty first reaction but I think I'm allowed that. I've never seen my dad look twice at a woman that wasn't my mom for my entire life."

Sarah unlocked her car door and tossed her purse inside. She rested one arm on top of the hood and took a deep breath when she turned back to Ellie.

"When I fix this, you're gonna let me borrow that manuscript."

Ellie blinked, then grinned. "Deal."

Sarah hid her own smile and slid into the driver's seat before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. Ellie slowly followed her car down the blacktop, pulling her keys out of her pocket when a horn beeped a friendly little sound just two doors down. Ellie looked up, immediately recognizing Joel's truck. She could see Joel behind the wheel watching Sarah quizzically as she zoomed past him in the opposite direction, then waited until he pulled into his driveway and got out of the car.

"The hell's goin' on? What're you doin' here?" he asked before his door was even open all the way.

"I'm here to knock some sense into you, old man," Ellie said, eyes drifting back towards the street where Sarah just disappeared. "But it turns out, your daughter is handling things for us, instead."

"Get to the point, Ellie," Joel scolded.

"Your girlfriend got up in front of group the other night and said she's gonna move back out west 'cause she feels like she's gotta beat herself up a little more over Daniel's death or something."

Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"What?" he breathed. Panic gripped his throat. He dug his keys into his palm just to ground himself and stop his ears from ringing.

Ellie sighed dramatically. "She thinks she moved on too quickly with you but I personally think she just feels guilty about moving on at all. Then the way Sarah reacted sure as shit didn't help but hopefully she'll set that right-"

"Sarah's goin' over to her house?" Joel clarified in disbelief.

"Yeah. Like you should've done days ago."

"I- I was givin' her space! I was callin' an- and textin' her but she never answered! Goddamnit!"

Joel swiveled on his heel and jumped back into his truck.

"You're going there, too? The entire Miller army?" Ellie asked when Joel backed up past her with his window down.

"I can't let her leave thinkin' we don't want her here," he said, eyes pinned on his review mirror. Ellie jogged to the end of the driveway, watching as Joel backed out and shifted back into drive. His expression was one mixed with fear and determination.

"Hey!" Ellie called, and Joel slowed his truck to look at her. "Don't fuck it up this time, yeah?"

He rolled his eyes and pressed his foot on the gas, peeling down his street and leaving Ellie to slowly climb back into her own car with a triumphant smile.

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[theetherealbloom]

YOU'RE THE RISK, I'M GONNA TAKE IT

Summary: You help your boss, Joel Miller, buy flowers for his date. Or so you thought.

Paring: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, SMUT, Light Angst, Reader Dislikes Roses (i also dislike them :P), Kissing, Cheesy, Crush, Grumpy Single Dad, Office/Workplace Romance, Assistant!Reader, Billionaire!Joel, CEO!Joel, Boss!Joel, She Falls First and He Falls Harder Trope, Grumpy/Sunshine Trope, Idiots-In-Love, Confessions, PWP (wrap it up ya’ll), Fingering, Power Imbalance, Pet Names, ‘Good Girl’, ‘Darlin’,

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: SOOOO WE’VE ALL SEEN THAT PIC RIGHT???? FML, if I ever saw that man carrying flowers and gifting them to me, I would marry him right away. 

This is for @morallyinept Jett’s Flora & Fauna Writing Challenge for May! I was obviously inspired by the picture in the moodboard above and my love for Gracie Abram’s new song Risk! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you all for reading and supporting my deluluness tehe.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Risk by Gracie Abrams

Main Masterlist

In the elegant floral shop, the scent of fresh blooms enveloped you as you stood beside your boss, Joel Miller, a man of many responsibilities and hidden depths. His piercing gaze fixed on a display of vibrant roses, seeking your opinion on a matter close to his heart - choosing the perfect flowers for a date.

Joel, a handsome billionaire with a company to run, a daughter to care for, and a brother to watch over, often sought your counsel on matters both personal and professional. Whether it was a crucial business decision or selecting a gift for Sarah's upcoming birthday, he valued your input more than he let on.

You studied the roses with a critical eye, your brows furrowing slightly as you considered the implications of his choice. "I think Lauren will love it," you finally offered, your voice tinged with a hint of reservation at the mention of Joel's recent romantic interest.

The name 'Lauren' left a bitter taste in your mouth, a woman who seemed more interested in Joel's wealth and status than in him as a person. You couldn't shake the feeling that she was using him for her own gain, and the thought of Joel falling for her facade made your stomach churn.

Joel's keen observation didn't miss the subtle shift in your demeanor. "Why are you makin' that face?" he questioned, his narrowed eyes fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Your heart raced at being caught off guard, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What face?" you attempted to deflect, but Joel saw through your facade with unnerving accuracy.

"The one you make when you don't like somethin'. You're scrunchin' your nose and everythin'," he pointed out, his gesture leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Caught in his perceptive gaze, you struggled to find the right words, knowing that you couldn't deceive him. There was an unspoken connection between you, a bond that transcended the boundaries of employer and assistant, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and unnerved by his proximity.

Joel's expectant gaze bore into you, his hand resting casually on his hip as he awaited your response, a subtle sign of his contemplation or frustration. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a silent understanding passing between you as you navigated the delicate dance of honesty and restraint in your shared space.

You settled for the truth, pinching your lips as if you were thinking how to phrase the next few words, eventually meeting his brown eyes and saying, "I don't like roses." The words hung in the air, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying.

Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. Before he could respond, you cut him off, rambling on in a nervous attempt to clarify your thoughts. "I know, I know, it's just... my preference. It's not that I don't find them pretty... I do. It's just, sometimes it feels like there's no thought into getting someone roses."

You really should shut up, but you couldn't stop, your words tumbling out in a rush. "That's not to say you're not like putting in the effort to get Lauren... roses or something. It's just there's a whole language to flowers and their meaning, and there's definitely more options than just a whole bouquet of roses."

The silence that followed was oppressive, Joel's eyes roaming all over your figure as if taking in every detail. You felt like you were going to vomit, because there was no way you had just told your boss that he wasn't being thoughtful as he was getting the bitch flowers.

"What d'you like then?" Joel's deep voice asked, his tone low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You took a moment to formulate an answer, your heart racing with anticipation.

"Red Peonies," you swallowed, the words feeling like a revelation.

"Why?" Joel asked, his eyes never leaving yours, and you swear he took a small step closer to you, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing.

"Besides it representing love, it also represents passion, honour and respect," you explained, trying to sound calm despite the turmoil inside. "There's just something more to it, I guess."

The air was tense, Joel's gaze burning into you like a brand. You felt like you were drowning in the depths of his eyes, the silence between you a palpable thing. You knew you should look away, but you couldn't, your gaze locked onto his as if drawn by an unseen force.

The world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment of raw emotion. You knew that you had crossed a line, but you couldn't help the way you felt. The truth was out, and now you just had to face the consequences.

The sharp chime of a phone shattered the charged silence between you, pulling you both back to the reality of the moment. You reluctantly pulled out your phone, a sigh escaping your lips as you delivered the news. "Your 3 p.m. meeting with Bill and Frank is coming up. We should buy those roses and go—"

But before you could finish, Joel interjected, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of reluctance. "We can come back for them later."

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his sudden change of heart. Quickly regaining your composure, you slipped back into your assistant mode. "I could have them delivered and—"

"Don't worry about it, darlin'," Joel cut you off, his deep Southern drawl sending a shiver down your spine. "Let's go to the damn meeting before Tess starts tellin' me off again."

Without another word, Joel strode towards the waiting car, the driver opening the door as you followed, slipping into the plush leather seat beside him. The tension in the air was palpable, the unspoken emotions between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

As the car pulled away from the curb, you found yourself acutely aware of Joel's presence, his warmth and the subtle scent of his cologne enveloping you. The silence stretched on, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the charged atmosphere that had settled over the two of you.

You stole a glance at Joel, his brow furrowed in thought, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the armrest. You longed to reach out, to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened between you, but the weight of your professional relationship held you back.

The drive to the office was a blur, the familiar sights and sounds of the city passing by in a haze as your mind raced with a thousand unspoken thoughts. When the car finally pulled to a stop, you both exited in silence, the weight of the unresolved tension hanging heavy in the air.

As you made your way through the bustling lobby, Joel's hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You couldn't help but wonder if the touch was intentional, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that simmered beneath the surface.

But as you turned to leave, Joel's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Darlin'," he murmured, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "We need to talk."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, unsure of what could possibly be running through Joel's mind. The intensity of his gaze only added to the butterflies in your stomach, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope and trepidation at what he might say.

"What is it, Joel?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

He took a step closer to you, his expression serious as he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you couldn't help but lean into it.

"I can't ignore this any longer," Joel began, his voice low and full of raw emotion. "I've been trying to fight it, but I can't deny how I feel about you any longer."

Your breath caught in your throat as he spoke those words, a rush of emotions flooding through you. Could it be possible that Joel felt the same way about you? Or was this all just some cruel joke?

"Joel..." You started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

"No, let me finish," he said firmly. "Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. And when we spent that night together at the charity event...I knew then that I had feelings for you."

You were speechless, unable to believe what was happening. You had harbored secret feelings for Joel for so long and never thought they would be reciprocated.

"I know there's the whole boss-assistant dynamic between us," Joel continued with a small self-deprecating smile. "But I can't let that hold me back from telling you how I feel."

A mix of emotions swirled inside you, and you couldn't help but feel torn. On one hand, you wanted to give into the feelings that had been building between you and Joel for so long. But on the other hand, the thought of risking your professional relationship and possibly even your job was a daunting prospect.

"Joel, I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "I just needed to tell you how I feel."

Silence fell between you as you both stood there, lost in your own thoughts. You were torn between what your heart wanted and what your head was telling you was logical.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you gathered the courage to speak again. "Joel, I care about you too," you admitted quietly. "But there are so many complications..."

"I know," he said with a sad smile. "But we can figure it out together."

His words filled you with hope and warmth, but at the same time fear also crept in. You knew that pursuing a romantic relationship with Joel would be risky and could potentially cause problems at work.

Before either of you could say more, there was a knock on Joel's office door. Startled out of your reverie, you both turned to see Chelsea peeking her head inside.

"Hey guys, sorry to interrupt," she said apologetically. "But, Mr. Miller, we have that meeting with McKenna about the upcoming merger in 10 minutes."

After Chelsea left, Joel turned back to you, a hopeful expression on his face. "Can I see you later? Outside of work, I mean."

Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with him outside of the office. You knew it was risky and could potentially cause problems, but the thrill of taking a chance with Joel was too enticing to resist.

"I'd like that...a lot," you replied, unable to stop a small smile from forming on your lips.

His face lit up at your response and he took a step closer towards you. "Can I kiss you?" he asked hesitantly.

You nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

Without any hesitation, Joel leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss at first, but quickly became more passionate as the chemistry between you two intensified. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss.

Eventually, the need for air forced you both to pull away. You gazed into each other's eyes, both panting slightly from the intensity of the moment.

"I should go," you said reluctantly.

Joel nodded and gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go. "I'll see you later then? I’ll meet you at your place.”

You smiled and nodded before heading out of his office. As you walked back to your own desk, your mind raced with thoughts of Joel and what this could all mean for your future.

Later that evening, as you heard a knock at your door, you couldn't help but feel excited and nervous. You had been thinking about Joel all day and now here he was, standing outside your door with a beautiful bouquet of peonies.

You quickly peeked through the door viewer, confirming that it was indeed Joel standing there. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hi Sweetheart," he said with his perfect smile, his dimple making an appearance on the left corner of his cheek.

"Hey," you replied with a bashful smile. "Come in."

Joel stepped inside, holding out the vase of peonies towards you. "I brought these for you," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection.

You took them from him and breathed in their sweet scent. "Oh, Joel, you remembered.”

"Anythin’ for you," Joel said with a small grin.

You couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you for remembering. They're beautiful. Thank you."

He shrugged nonchalantly before turning to take off his shoes. "So what should we do tonight? I can cook us dinner or we could go out somewhere if you prefer."

The idea of Joel cooking for you sounded wonderful, but at the same time, going out together also seemed like an exciting adventure.

"How about we have dinner here tonight and then we can go out tomorrow?" You suggested.

"That sounds perfect," Joel agreed with a smile.

As he prepared dinner in your kitchen, the two of you chatted comfortably about work and other random topics. It felt easy to talk to Joel and be around him, like it was just natural for the two of you to be together.

After enjoying a delicious dinner cooked by Joel (who turned out to be quite the chef), the two of you sat on your couch watching a movie. As the movie played on, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his eyes intense as they flicked between the screen and your face. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows that danced across his features.

Joel shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours and sending a shiver down your spine. You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest, and found yourself caught in his gaze. Without a word, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

The world around you faded away as Joel's mouth finally met yours in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over your body, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate.

You melted into each other, lost in a haze of passion and desire. Clothes were shed in a frenzy of need, skin meeting skin in a symphony of sensation. Joel's touch was electric, sending sparks throughout your body and setting every nerve on fire.

As you lay intertwined on the couch, your breathing heavy and your bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Joel's eyes searched yours intensely.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You couldn't form words as he began trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His hands explored every inch of your body, worshipping you with his touch.

"I want you," you finally managed to say, arching your back as he grazed his teeth along your collarbone.

With a growl, Joel lifted you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. 

He laid you down on the bed with a hunger in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and dip as if he was mapping out his favorite treasure. You moaned softly as his lips grazed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Joel's kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, igniting a primal need within you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered his name like a prayer. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth with a fierce intensity that made your head spin.

He teased and tormented you with his touch, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath hitched as he plunged into you, filling you completely and setting your senses ablaze.

The rhythm between you grew frantic, fueled by a hunger that could not be satisfied. Every thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body yearning for his touch, craving the sweet release that only he could bring.

He whispered filthy words into your ear, his voice gruff and raw with desire. "You want it," he growled, "You need it." His fingers gripped your hips, guiding you onto his shaft with deliberate precision. You groaned, lost in the ecstasy of his touch, your body begging for more.

He kissed you fiercely, his tongue dueling with yours, their movements synchronized with the wild rhythm of their bodies. His hands roamed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, as he explored every inch of your body with a possessive possessiveness.

You moaned, writhing against him, your body trembling with need, your heart pounding in sync with the frantic beat of his, as he plunged deeper into you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks that would later serve as a reminder of this night.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he nuzzled your collarbone, then your chest, and finally your nipples, which hardened under the gentle caress of his tongue. You arched your back, your body craving for more, as his hands cupped your breasts, kneading them with a ferocity that made you gasp.

As he continued to ravage your body, you could feel the heat building between your legs, a fiery ache that begged for relief. Your hips bucked against his, seeking that sweet release, the friction sending spears of pleasure through you. He groaned, his own arousal swelling, and he thrust harder, his hips meshing with yours.

His hands roamed your body, caressing your curves, leaving trails of electricity in their wake. You arched your back, your breasts thrusting forward, begging for his attention. He didn't disappoint, his mouth closing over one taut nipple, teeth gently scraping against the sensitive flesh, while his other hand trailed down your side, slipping between your legs.

Your breath hitched as his fingers found their mark, teasing your swollen folds, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. Your body trembled, desperate for his touch, for him to drown you in sensation. He obliged, his fingers delving deeper, slick with your arousal. 

The roughness of his touch against your sensitive skin became a symphony of pleasure, as he slid in and out, his rhythm perfect, his fingers working in unison with the movements of his hips. You could feel yourself nearing the edge, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Fuck, c’mon darlin, be a good girl, give it to me,” He groaned, as he sensed your impending release and increased the speed of his fingers, sending you over the edge in a wave of pure ecstasy. Your back arched off the bed, your nails digging into his skin as you cried out his name. He followed you over, spilling into you with a guttural moan.

You collapsed onto the bed, spent and breathless, but he wasn't done with you yet. He rolled you onto your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you. You felt him smirk against your back before he slammed into you again, filling you up completely.

His pace was rougher now, more primal as he claimed your body as his own. You met each thrust eagerly, reveling in the raw passion that flowed between you.

He reached around to caress your clit, adding another layer of stimulation to the already mind-blowing experience. Your moans and cries filled the room as he drove you both to new heights of pleasure.

As you were both on the verge of climax once again, he flipped you over onto your back and plunged into you one final time. With one hand gripping your thigh and the other tangled in your hair, he pounded into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

When he finally let go and spilled inside of you for a second time, it was like a dam had burst within both of them. You clung to each other as waves of pleasure washed over you both until eventually subsiding.

You lay there tangled together in a sweaty mess, your limbs intertwined as you both fought to catch your breath. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the sheets clinging to your bodies in a sensual embrace. As the haze lifted from your minds and your heart rates slowly returned to normal, you looked up at him and smiled, your eyes shining with a mix of contentment and wonder.

"That was incredible," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate moment.

His lips curved into a satisfied grin, his gaze burning into you with a intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "You're incredible," he replied, his voice husky with desire, the words caressing your skin like a lover's touch.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. The sheets were tangled around the two of you, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the feeling of being intertwined with him, your bodies still connected in an intimate embrace.

A part of you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension, a nagging voice in the back of your mind warning you that this was uncharted territory. You were jumping headfirst into the deep end, and the risk of drowning was ever-present. But as you gazed into his eyes, the warmth and affection you saw there quelled your fears, replacing them with a sense of exhilaration and anticipation.

"I can't believe this is happening," you murmured, your fingers tracing the contours of his face, as if to reassure yourself that this was real. "I never thought we'd end up here, but I'm so glad we did."

He chuckled, the deep rumble of his laughter sending a shiver of delight through you. "Darlin', you have no idea how long I've been waitin' for this," he confessed, his hand caressing your cheek with a tenderness that belied the passion that had just consumed them.

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mix of joy, trepidation, and a deep, abiding love that threatened to overwhelm you. "I'm scared," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm also so excited to see where this takes us."

His expression softened, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, reassuring kiss. "I'm here, darlin'," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We'll figure it out, together."

As you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that no matter the challenges, you would face them side by side. The risk of drowning may have been ever-present, but with him by your side, you were ready to dive in, to explore the depths of this newfound love and see where it would take you.

[cameronspecial]

I Want To Be Your Boyfriend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Rafe never thought that he could fall for a Pogue, but the Goddess in front of him might change his mind.

A/N: This is a prequel to I Want To Be With You and requested by @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

When he first saw her, he thought she was the most beautiful Kook he had ever seen. The lavender silk Prada shirt she is wearing crops just above her belly button. It reveals a delicious sliver of her stomach that he just wants to rest his hands on. The recognizable double G of her creamed colour belt displays the girl’s financial status. But as Rafe’s eyes trail down to her pants, confusion crosses his features. The black jeans she wears are distraught with holes in a fashionable manner, yet, he doesn’t recognize the brand and the material looks too cheap to be a brand name. Her shoes also don’t match the top half of her outfit as the white Sketchers look so worn out that it had to be done because she can’t afford new ones and not because of aesthetics. 

Sarah and the rest of the Pogues joining his Goddess help put the puzzle pieces together in his mind. His sister is known for her love of sharing her clothes with her Pogue friends, so the Goddess in front of him must be a Pogue. Unlike Sarah, Rafe would never associate himself with Pogues unless they were working for him. Yet, the concern she shows for JJ over a bleeding cut on his forehead from falling down makes Rafe realize he doesn’t care that she lives on the wrong side of the island. She lets out the most amazing laugh he has ever heard and he has to be the one that makes her smile. He makes his way over to talk to her, but Kiara stops him in his tracks. 

“Don’t even think about it. She is too good for you,” she warns him away. He tries to sidestep her, “Come on, Kiara. Let me talk to her.” The girl shakes his head and turns him away. He doesn’t want to make a scene in front of the goddess, so he walks away in defeat. Throughout the night, he tries to talk to her and is intercepted by the other Pogues. 

——

For weeks he has been trying to talk to her, but every time a Pogue is there to stop him. At least he learnt her name. Y/N Y/L/N, the name of a goddess. He is sent by his dad to pick up something to eat at The Wreck and this is when he sees her next. She is whipping down a table on the far side of the room, which makes him switch course toward her. JJ spots Rafe’s new direction and runs into his path with a smirk. “I’m sorry, man. I can’t let you near her.” “You can’t tell me what to do, Pogue,” Rafe spits out, standing up straight so the small height distance looks a little bigger. JJ wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand to try to hide his chuckle, “When it comes to her, I can. Now, as the French say, arrivederci.” Rafe is going to argue more, but the call of his name for his order pulls him away from the blonde.

——

It felt like fate when he got to the coffee shop to see her hunched over a notebook by herself. He looks around the store to check that she really is alone and no other pogue is in sight. He grins at this new revelation, sliding himself across from her in the booth. “I’ve been trying to introduce myself for weeks. I’m Rafe,” he sticks his hand out for her to shake. She brings her hand to his and he notices that although they are calloused, they are still supple, “I know your name silly. And I know you know that you have been trying. My friends don’t keep things from me.” 

“Right, so you’ve just been making me chase after you on purpose.” 

“You know, Rafe, you are the one with the name that means counsel of the wolf in Old Norse. I’m starting to see that it is a pretty accurate name.”

“You are just as smart as I thought you were because I have no idea what you mean.”

She finds his honesty cute, “I’m saying that wolves are predators and you have been chasing after me like a pray for weeks.” He likes that she isn’t condescending when she explains the joke to him. “Ahh, I totally understood that. Please, keep blessing me with your wisdom.” 

——

Rafe has been talking and texting Y/N for a month now and he is finally convinced they are not going to be caught hanging out together by the other Pogues. This means he is finally going to ask her to go steady with him because he is assured they can go on a date without being caught. She stares at her TV show while his head is resting on her thigh near her stomach. He is between her legs and his focus is on his phone. “Y/N,” he catches her attention. “I want to be your boyfriend.” His tone is practically begging her to say yes. She looks down at him with a soft smile and her fingers lace through his hair. “Rafey, I would love for you to be my boyfriend. But I don’t think there is going to be much of a difference in our relationship,” she confides, twirling his hair between her fingers.

“Why not?” 

“I don’t think you can get any more clingy than this, Rafey.”

“True, but there is something I can start craving more than your touch, Baby”

He lifts his head off her thigh and brings himself to hover over Y/N. He gives her a peck before moving in to deepen the kiss. His hands find the buttons of her shirt as he begins kissing his way down her neck. Forget about her laughter, her moans are the most amazing thing he has ever heard.

[senselessviolets]

being roman roy’s personal assistant (and his obsession) would include…

Rating M

WARNINGS:

Language, sexual tension, degradation, power imbalance, Roman being Roman weird.

Author's Notes:

Pretty self-explanatory. No uses of Y/N. Some brief RomanGerri. Very much inspired by @nanabrainrot's fic series with Pervert!Roman because it's divineeee. Highly recommend it!!

Roman never saw himself as the type to have an assistant. In fact, he was the only one of the Roy siblings to not have one. Kendall, of course, had Jess, Shiv had Sarah, and even though Connor never liked to bring it up out of fear of making him seem less earnest and hardworking to his supporters, he too had a “yes man” managing his personal affairs for him. 

It was following the Hungary company retreat that Gerri offered to set Roman up with an assistant. She knew of a trusted agency that would be able to help him narrow down candidates and find a person best suited for his needs. 

That person just so happened to be you. 

Roman absolutely wolf-whistled at the picture attached to your portfolio when thumbing through the candidates he was matched with through the agency. Gerri made him promise not to make any untoward or inappropriate comments to you during your interview for the job. Roman saw it as a ‘woman thing’ but Gerri being legal counsel saw it as a nightmare waiting to happen.

Upon meeting with you and the hiring manager, Roman scoured the internet for any information on you. Even though all of the important need-to-know info could be found on your resume or your fucking LinkedIn profile—that wasn’t enough for him. 

He tore through all of your public social media accounts, saving any particularly flattering images of you (swimsuit pictures, nightclub outings, etc.) and examining them throughout the day.

Suffice it to say, you got the job.

At first, Roman doesn’t know what to make of you. He sits you at a small desk on the opposite side of his own in his office.

Personality and demeanor-wise you’re in line with what he had wanted. Physically, he was already well-acquainted with your curves and the way certain types of clothes clung to your body. 

In the long stretches of silence of you two working in the same room, he imagined briefly what you looked like underneath your clothes. 

At home when it was just him and his right hand, he imagined what it’d be like to tear them off and leave them in tatters on the floor.

The better you get to know each other, the bigger his private album devoted to images of you grows.

Roman starts to pry into your personal life, asking if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Then he makes random passes at you throughout the day. Having worked with a wide array of smarmy, gross men in the past—you were hardly phased. Because a part of you sees through the facade. You know he just wants to rile you up—to get a reaction out of you.

You realize after a while that he wants you to be repulsed by him. 

This incites something within you.

Roman starts dragging you to one-on-ones with investors and having you sit in on board meetings, much to the annoyance of many.

Shiv tells you (jokingly) to run before you wind up being chased down the hallways with a chainsaw. 

While waiting together outside of a rather important meeting with many high-level executives, Greg informs you of a rumor that Roman has a dick pic circulating the office. But that in particular—he had meant to send it to you. 

You don’t know how to feel.  

These forced attendances at random meetings turn into becoming his designated armpiece for public events and parties. 

At one of them, Stewy taunts Roman, saying you’re not the only woman he pays to touch him. 

You laugh loudly at this joke which surprises them both. You crack a few of your own at Roman’s expense. Some are based on fiction, the others in fact. The shame floods his cheeks but the way he grips tighter at your waist tells you to keep going. To get meaner. So you do. You get a lot meaner.

Roman’s jaw clenches for a moment. Then his lips part. You convince yourself it's just a buzz from the drinks you’ve just had; that you did not just shit-talk your boss into arousal. 

But the clumsy way Roman adjusts his stance, the subtle outline of something forming at the front of his pants, and how he excuses himself to the bathroom says otherwise.

The text you receive moments later from his number confirms this; “You know what you did, you fucking bitch.”.

It’s your direct reply to that message though that makes his breath hitch; 

“Show me then, you sick fuck.”

{ Feedback is welcome! }

Follow me on twt: @endlessviolets

<3

[wildemaven]

life and loss | joel miller

pairing: dave york x f!reader / joel miller x f!reader word count: 1k content warnings: 18+ blog; death, grief/loss, major character death (no description of said death), AU and crossover universes, kind of fluffy, navigating loss, reader is non descriptive/blank slate. notes: this randomly came to me yesterday on my walk. It was meant to be just a moodboard and a small blurb to go along with it… and then this happened. Oops! Tried to pack a lot into a small thing so hopefully it makes sense.

Momentos of him, your late husband, have remained tucked away for the last year following his unexpected death. As you settle into your new widowed life and new home over a thousand miles away from the life you created with Dave, all the beautiful memories reside in cardboard boxes out of sight. 

Word travels quickly through the small neighborhood about your arrival and marital status— or lack thereof. Welcoming introductions turn into unannounced check-ins and flowers. Uncomfortable small talk on your front porch is sprinkled throughout the following weeks, a hand on your shoulder accentuates their let us know if you need anything. Sympathetic casseroles finally dwindle allowing you to finally ease into this new season of your life. 

The hammock left by the previous owners becomes your sanctuary most evenings. Searching for the brightest star in the night’s sky, then asking Dave how he’s doing before reading aloud to him the words from your latest book. 

It's days later when you’ve read the final word that a small voice from over the fence manifests as a quirky teenage girl sitting at a table you’ve set up on your back patio. She has a million and one questions about the book and is filled with theories about what happens beyond its ending. The side gate is never regularly latched closed now, eagerly awaiting Ellie’s return. She navigates most of your late night conversations that follow, including personal stories and the history of her life. My grump of an old man is in construction. He’s single by the way— not by choice, but life happens. 

His voice is calloused the first time he makes his presence known to you. Goddamn it, Ellie! I told you to leave her alone! They exchange brittle words back and forth through the shared barrier, before you insist he join the two of you. The crunch of his boots on the ground stall when he towers over where you’re still seated. His hand engulfing yours, warm and gentle as he tries to determine where his gaze should fall— you, the ground, the smirking teenager sitting across from you. Joel. Joel Miller. Uh, Ellie n’ I live next door. Not sure how long she’s been botherin’ you, but I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again.

It’s weeks later when you run into Joel at the mailboxes. The clanking of keys and squeaky hinges fill the space between you before you’re both retreating back to your respective pathways. Your hands fidget and twist the bills and letters from your parents when you bravely initiate a conversation before he’s able to reach his front door. She’s the first person since moving here who wanted to talk to me about something other than the death of my husband. I don’t think I’ve laughed as much as I have with her in a long time. She’s welcome over here anytime. 

He reeks of nervousness as he stands on your doorstep the following evening. The ambered hue of his eyes absorb the warmth from the front porch light, adding a brightness to them that they seem to be commonly lacking. His words waver a bit as he begins to speak, starting and stopping, scrubbing his hand down his face before he attempts to start again. You offer him nothing but patience, sensing the mournful energy radiating off him— similar to the one you’ve been carrying. My wife and older daughter— they were both in an accident on their way to Sarah’s soccer game. I was pickin’ up Ellie from her counseling group for adopted kids. We were headin’ to the soccer field when I got the call. Some days are harder than others. And everyone wants to help, however that may be— lots of food as I’m sure you know. It doesn’t ever really get easier, but you learn to live with grief. Anyways, if you ever need anything or just want to talk— you know where I live.  

He accepts your impulsive invitation to join you for dinner, offering him the open seat across from you in the same spot as your timid first meeting. The crickets orchestrate the evening ambience as you share stories you’d tucked away, too painful to revisit until now. You find you laugh just as much, if not more, with Joel. Even among the tears shed, the conversation is filled with a hope and optimism that you longed for. 

You still feel his wholesome embrace long after you’ve called it a night to seek out much needed sleep. But much like the nights that ensued after Dave’s death, loneliness and the weight of your grief rear its head. 

The black ink glides over the surface of the paper. Line after line formulated a year’s worth of unsaid words that had been bottled up and blockaded by the rigid walls you’d built around them. Joel was right about the therapeutic effect of getting rid of the burdensome thoughts that come with loss, finding it’s hard to stop now that you’ve started. 

You convey the love that you still carry for Dave, something you’ll never willfully ignore or regret. It feels wrong but you touch on the hatred you feel towards his death; you hate him for leaving you, hate that you miss him, hate that some nights you forget the small details that you cherished about him. You tell him about Joel and the kindness he’s afforded you in a short time of knowing him and that there’s life beyond losing the love of your life. To look for the light even when shrouded by darkness. 

Pictures and trinkets find their way out of the cardboard confines Joel helped pull out from the guest room closet. The bare walls now filled with familiar faces and shelves adorn with colorful memories that you tried so hard to keep hidden. 

Joel and Ellie being a constant presence in your life allows you to see that life can surprise you when you least expect it and there’s room for new love. 

[read-alert]

December 1 is World AIDS Day!

Where We Go From Here by Lucas Rocha translated to English by Larissa Helena

Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett

The 2001 run of Green Arrow comics by various contributors

And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS Epidemic by Randy Shilts

Love is the Cure On Life, Loss, and the End of AIDS by Elton John

Illness as Metaphor and AIDS and Its Metaphors by Susan Sontag

My Government Means to Kill Me by Rasheed Newson

On my TBR:

Olga Dies Dreaming by Xochitl Gonzalez

How to Survive a Plague: The Inside Story of How Citizens and Science Tamed AIDS by David France

When You Call My Name by Tucker Shaw

Breaking the Walls of Silence: AIDS and Women in New York State Maximum Security Prison by members of the AIDS Counseling and Education Program

The Quilt: Stories from the Names Project by Cindy Ruskin

The Prettiest Star by Carter Sickles

Red X by David Demchuk

The House of Impossible Beauties by Joseph Cassara

Never Silent: ACT UP and My Life in Activism by Peter Staley

Let the Record Show: A Political History of ACT UP New York, 1987-1993 by Sarah Schulman

It Was Vulgar and It Was Beautiful: How AIDS Activists Used Art to Fight a Pandemic by Jack Lowery

Love Your Asian Body: AIDS Activism in Los Angeles Eric C Wat

[whencyclopedia]

Twelve Famous Native American Women

Native American women are traditionally held in high regard among the diverse nations, whether a given people are matrilineal or patrilineal. Traditionally, women were not only responsible for raising children and caring for the home but also planted and harvested the crops, built the homes, and engaged in trade, as well as having a voice in government.

The history of the women of the Native peoples of North America attests to their full participation in the community whether as elders and "medicine women" or as skilled agriculturalists and merchants and, in some cases, even warriors. Although hunting and warfare were traditionally the provenance of males, some women became famous for their courage and skill in battle. These women, as well as others in the arts and sciences, are often overlooked because they do not fit the paradigm of what has been accepted as American history.

Pocahontas and Sacagawea are usually the only North American Native women that non-Natives have heard of, but even their narratives have been obscured by legend and half-truths. Many other Native American women have simply been ignored, and among them are most of those listed below. These women, and the nations they were citizens of, include:

Jigonhsasee – Iroquois

Pocahontas – Powhattan

Weetamoo – Wampanoag

Glory-of-the-Morning – Ho-Chunk/Winnebago

Sacagawea – Shoshone

Old-Lady-Grieves-the-Enemy – Pawnee

Pine Leaf/Woman Chief – Crow

Lozen – Apache

Buffalo Calf Road Woman – Cheyenne

Thocmentony/Sarah Winnemucca – Paiute

Susan La Flesche Picotte – Omaha

Molly Spotted Elk/Mary Alice Nelson – Penobscot

There are many others who do not appear here because they are more widely known, such as the Yankton Dakota activist, musician, and writer, Zitkala-Sa (l. 1876-1938) or the Cheyenne warrior Mochi ("Buffalo Calf", l. c. 1841-1881). Modern-day figures are also omitted but deserve mention, such as the activist Isabella Aiukli Cornell of the Choctaw nation, who drew national attention in 2018 with her red prom dress designed to call attention to the many missing and murdered indigenous women across North America, and poet/activist Suzan Shown Harjo of the Muscogee/Southern Cheyenne nation. There are many more, like these two, who have devoted themselves to raising awareness of the challenges facing Native Americans and continue the same struggle, in various ways, as the women of the past.

Jigonhsasee (l. c. 1142 or 15th century)

According to Iroquois lore, Jigonhsasee (Jikonhsaseh, Jikonsase) was integral to the origins of the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Confederacy dated to either the 12th or 15th century. She was an Iroquoian whose home was along the central path used by warriors going to and from battle and became well-known for the hospitality and wise counsel she offered them. The Great Peacemaker (Deganawida) chose her to help him form the Iroquois Confederacy, based on the model of a family living together in one longhouse, and, along with Hiawatha, this vision became a reality. Jigonhsasee became known as the 'Mother of Nations' and established the policy of women choosing the chiefs of the council in the interests of peace, instead of war. The American women's suffrage movement of the 19th century called attention to the freedom and rights of Native American women, notably those of the Iroquois Confederacy, in arguing for those same rights for themselves.

Continue reading...

[sixhours]

i know you by heart - chapter 1

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, light angst, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

“Tell me again how it happened.”

It’s a standoff in the kitchen. Ellie’s face, flushed and furious, twists in a pout. Joel grips the back of a dining chair with one tight fist.

One week. It’s been one fucking week since school started, and Ellie has already come home with the pink slip of all pink slips.

“She tried to take my pen. Twice.”

“And?”

“So I…I took my knife out…”

“Uh-huh.”

 “...and I stabbed it into her desk…”

Joel winces.

“...and I told her if she tried that shit again I’d do the same to her fucking finger.”

“Ellie–”

“It’s not my fucking fault no one taught her to keep her hands to herself!”

“I know, and she–she shouldn’t have done that, Ellie, but you can’t just–”

“It’s not like I actually stabbed someone, Joel!”

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, kid. You can’t–you can’t do that shit here. This ain’t FEDRA. There’s no hole. Keep it up and they’re liable to put us outside the damn wall.”

“Tommy wouldn’t–“

“He doesn’t run this place. An’ Maria’s already on my ass about…everythin’.”

“Maybe we should leave, then,” she huffs.

“You don’t mean that.”

“We made out okay. We could do it again.”

“Ellie,” his voice softens. He draws his palms down his face. The start of a headache pulses behind his eyes. “Look, I know it’s…different. But we’re here now. We gotta make do.”

Four months in Jackson. Four months since he shot his way out of a hospital in Salt Lake City and carried the unconscious girl to safety. Four months since she asked for the truth and he told her the whopper of all lies instead.

When he thinks about it that way, things are going about as well as he has any right to expect.

He’d hoped going to school would give her some structure, that she’d make a few friends, but so far, every morning has been a trudge, every night a standoff. When she’s not clinging to his side like a lost lamb or waking from nightmares to crawl into his bed, she’s hurling sharp words and slamming doors and stomping around.

Months on the road together, but he’s never seen her so goddamn bratty.

He’s taking a lot of deep breaths. He’s counting to ten. He’s trying not to see the judgmental frowns from his sister-in-law when Ellie storms out of a family gathering or calls him an asshole at the caf in front of the whole fuckin’ town.

She’s never had the space to act out, he reminds himself. She’s never been fed enough, warm enough, safe enough, loved enough, and he gets the brunt of her anger. The way Sarah would come home after a long day at school and turn into a grouchy wildebeest for him after being an angel for her teachers.

It’s normal, he tells himself on the worst nights. Ellie’s making up for fourteen years of repression.

But he’s tired and she’s strumming his last nerve like it’s a fuckin’ guitar.

She’s holding out another note, this one hand-written and co-signed by members of the council. He notes Maria’s signature at the top with some disdain.

“Counseling,” Joel sighs, skimming it. “Mandated. Twelve weeks.”

“You’re not really gonna make me go, are you? C’mon, man, it’s a death sentence!”

“Hardly. You’re lucky they didn’t suspend you.”

“I wish they had. Then I wouldn’t have to go to that stupid fucking school.”

“Ellie–”

“I hate it here,” she spits out. Her lower lip trembles and he has to look away, eking out a tight breath.

“Yeah, kid. I know. But you gotta give it a chance.”

“I did, and it sucks.”

“You’re not giv–”

“Going to my room,” she huffs, already moving for the stairs. 

“You need to eat first,” he says, gritting his teeth when she rolls her eyes. “And you’re grounded.”

Those words have never come out of his mouth. He doesn’t even know what being grounded looks like in this day and age.

“What?! Joel–”

“You heard me,” he says, making it up as he goes. “Two weeks. You’re back here every night after your assignments. No wanderin’ around with your friends.”

“Lucky for me I don’t have any fucking friends.”

“That ain’t–“

“This is bullshit,” she seethes, then turns on her heel and stomps up the stairs.

“Damnit, Ellie, you need to eat–”

“I’m not hungry!”

The door at the top of the stairs slams shut, ending the conversation and leaving Joel to collapse into a chair with his face in his hands.

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself. “Yeah, this is bullshit.”

One week later she’s sulking over breakfast at the house.

“The guy wants to talk to you,” she says through a mouthful of eggs.

“‘The guy’? And close your mouth when you chew.”

Ellie wrinkles her nose, opening her mouth wide to show him her half-chewed breakfast, a move that’s painfully reminiscent of a different time, a different kid.

“I told you at dinner. The counselor guy.”

He frowns. “It’s a guy?”

She rolls her eyes. “And women can even be doctors! Dude, you are so old .”

“S’not what I meant, smartass,” he mutters. “I just…I know you’ve had some, uh…issues with…guys.”

Since Silver Lake , he doesn’t say.

“Only the creepy ones,” she says, stabbing a piece of potato. “Ezra’s not creepy. He’s, like, cool. He has a huge record collection.”

“Uh-huh. An’ he needs to see me why?”

“I don’t fucking know, dude. Unlike you, I didn’t give him the third degree.”

He bites his tongue. “Alright. When?”

“Before school. Today.”

Joel looks at the clock, then back at Ellie. 7:50 .

“So we need to go…right now,” he mutters, draining his coffee and gathering his dishes to put them in the sink. “Thanks for the notice.”

“I told you last night! Not my fault you’re deaf.”

Admittedly, she’d talked a lot at dinner last night. Mostly about how some kid named Dina was a jerk who deserved to have her finger taken off for being a ‘fucking klepto’ with her pen. But he’d been so tired and the headache behind his eyes won’t give him a rest.

“Alright, let’s go,” he sighs. “Don’t forget your bag.”

They step out into the streets of Jackson on a mild September morning. It’s the rush hour–if a town of a few hundred can be said to have a rush hour–with shift changes on the wall and everyone off to their assigned duties. They pass familiar faces; neighbors Joel still doesn’t have names for, kids he recognizes from Ellie’s school who give them a wide berth. Joel hunches inward, following the maroon cast of her sweatshirt through clusters of Jackson residents.

“You don’t have a brother, do you?” she says out of the blue.

“You know I do,” he frowns.

“No duh. But you don’t have another brother, right?”

“Not that I’m aware of, kid.”

“Like, what if your dad had a secret family–”

“Christ, where do you come up with this stuff?”

“C’mon, it can happen! I just–I wondered–”

“What the heck are you gettin' at, kid? Spit it out.”

“It’s nothin’,” she says, but there’s a weird little smile on her face. “You’ll see.” 

She leads him to the little house at the other end of town and knocks on the blue door. Ellie keeps looking up at him with the same funny smirk.

A dark-eyed man answers, peering through the screen. Dark, fitted T-shirt, slim black jeans. Younger than Joel by at least ten years, probably more, with a wide smile and messy black-brown curls with an odd streak of white at his temple.

He looks like a fuckin’ punk.

“Hi, Ezra,” Ellie says breezily. “This is Joel.”

“Hello, young prodigy,” he smiles, drawling in a southern accent that Joel can’t quite place. “Come in, come in both of you…join me in my humble abode.”

He leads them inside and to the right, to a little den just off the entry. It’s a snug office with a couch and chair, a coffee table in the center, and bookshelves lining the walls on either side. A record player sits on a podium in one corner.

Joel puts out his hand, realizing too late the other man isn’t able to reciprocate, lacking an arm with which to do so. Ellie watches with a smug smirk, lips twitching a little as Joel drops his right hand and fumbles through a handshake with his left. He shoots her a glare.

Couldn’t have mentioned that?

She shrugs, feigning a wide-eyed innocence, then looks between the two men with a kind of manic glee, as if waiting for something.

“...what?” Joel finally asks.

“You don’t see it?” She gestures to the other man.

“I don’t–”

“Jeez, I know you’re deaf but I didn’t think you were blind, too,” she groans. “He looks like you! If you weren’t, like, ancient.”

Joel’s face flushes as Ezra tries to hide a smile behind his hand.

“Enough of that, you little shi–smartypants,” Joel mutters.

“I suspect your young prodigy here gets the sense we might be of blood relation based on a similar, uh, distinguished profile.”

“That’s not, uh…that’s not possible, kid.”

“I agree,” Ezra says smoothly. “The universe is rife with serendipitous occurrences, and I do believe that’s what we have here. The mind is a funny thing. We see what we want to see, Ellie.”

“Seriously?!”

“Your dad here–”

“He’s not my dad,” Ellie corrects automatically. Joel can’t help but feel a pang of indignation at the speed with which she pipes up.

“My apologies,” Ezra murmurs. “I stand corrected. This is your…?”

“He’s just Joel.”

“Of course, gem. Just Joel,” Ezra smiles in his direction. “So I asked your Joel here to ensure you understood what we’re doing. As your guardian, Joel needs to be an integral part of this process.”

“Yeah, ‘bout that–what exactly are we doin’ again?” Joel asks.

“I suspect your young prodigy here is finding the adjustment to life in Jackson a bit…finicky. I’m here to help ease that transition in whatever way I can.”

“You can start by telling the other kids to stop fucking touching my stuff,” Ellie adds.

“Christ, Ellie–”

Ezra holds up his hand, cutting off Joel’s growl and addressing the girl. “Let’s not get weighted down by the minutiae of the situation we find ourselves in, gem. Suffice it to say, we have some work to do, and we need to do it cooperatively.”

Ellie crosses her arms and huffs, but Ezra’s easy manner seems to soothe something in the girl.

“Now that you’ve delivered your…Joel…to me, he and I are going to have a little tête-à-tête . Nothing damning, just the facts. And you, if I’m not mistaken, will be late to school.”

He leans down to scribble something on a notepad, then hands it to Ellie. “Give this to your teacher.”

“You go straight to school an’ home after chores,” Joel adds, watching the late slip disappear into the pocket of Ellie’s jeans. “You’re still grounded, ‘member?”

“Like you’d let me forget,” she mutters, trudging out the door, leaving it cracked slightly.

They hear the front door open and shut, but Ezra holds up one finger, watching the entry with sly eyes.

Wait.

Joel catches his drift.

“Ellie,” he says.

“Aw, c’mon, man,” she grumbles from the entry. “If you’re gonna talk about me, I should get to hear it.”

“We’re not going to talk about you, gem,” Ezra says. “But this is a private conversation between your esteemed guardian and myself. Please give us your discretion and make haste.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Ezra goes to the office door and gently shuts it. Suddenly closed in the small room with a stranger, Joel feels a familiar but unwelcome prickle of fear take root. It’s the same feeling that has him sleeping with a gun under his mattress and locking his door at night, despite Tommy’s assurances that Jackson is safe as houses.

Without thinking, he reaches for his holster–the holster that isn’t there, because he doesn’t wear it unless he’s on patrol, because Jackson is a community and not the fucking QZ. It’s a subtle tic, but Ezra notices.

“We can open it if you’d prefer to partake of the fresh air.”

Joel swallows his fear with a dollop of shame. “S’fine.”

Ezra nods. “Have a seat if you like.”

He takes the chair across the small room, considering Joel through thick lashes. His face is kind, but something about the man’s gaze leaves Joel uneasy, like a bug under a magnifying glass. There’s a warm, simmering coil of tension in his gut that he can’t place.

Indigestion , Joel decides. Too much coffee.

He settles on the couch, old cushions and springs protesting, then leans forward on his knees, glancing around.

“You, uh…you like music?” he says, gesturing to the shelves of vinyl just behind Ezra.

“I do,” he says. “I was fortunate to find this sizable collection in the attic upon being assigned a house. I’ve added to it as I find new treasures to trade. And you?”

“Huh?”

“Do you enjoy music, Joel?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” he says, rubbing at his lips self-consciously. “Play a little here and there. Guitar.”

Ezra’s face lights up. “Ah! A musician!”

“Hardly.”

“Speaking as one who can’t carry a tune in a bucket, color me impressed.”

The office window is wide open, a cool autumn breeze floating through and rifling the other man’s already unruly hair, but a deep heat has settled at the base of Joel’s neck and the room suddenly feels like a hot summer’s day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh…Ellie says you’re a counselor?”

“Indeed.”

“An’ you have, uh, qualifications? Somethin’ that says you’re the man for the job?”

Ezra grins at this. “I know I don’t look the part of the sage, and I can appreciate your frank concern. I do have some experience in this area, surprising as that may be. Before the outbreak, I was a Master’s student in clinical psychology. Although I didn’t get much opportunity to practice for reasons that should be quite obvious.”

“Right.”

“The fine folks of Jackson have been kind enough to give me a place and a profession that suits my abilities. I’m not much use drawing a plow or riding a horse, I’m afraid,” Ezra continues, nodding to his right shoulder.

“But before we proceed, I should like to understand your expectations and to set a few of my own. For one, I’m not here to play Freud. And I’m hardly qualified to make a diagnosis of any sort,” he continues. “A diagnosis isn’t worth a damn in this day and age, and I suspect you’d agree.”

Joel bites his lip. “Look, uh, I’ll be honest. Last time I set foot in a place like this, it did jack shit and ended in a divorce. So you’ll forgive me if I ain’t entirely comfortable with my…with Ellie…comin’ in here and talkin’ your ear off.”

“Trust that you are not the first to express concern or have a, let’s say, downright suspicious quality about this particular practice. But I hope you’ll humor me when I say that I, like you, only want what is best for Ellie. She’s a bright girl, that one. Very perceptive.”

Joel huffs softly. “Too damn smart for her own good sometimes.”

This elicits a tiny smile, leaving Joel worried he’s spoken too harshly.

“But she’s a good kid,” he adds quickly. “A really…good kid.”

Ezra nods. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but I think she could benefit from the ear of a friend. As I said, she’s bright. I wanted to try to get a clearer picture of her through your eyes. Your family dynamic, if you will. I take it there’s no Mrs. Joel? Or…Mr. Joel?”

Joel snorts. “Just me an’ her.”

“And she’s adopted?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Joel murmurs, scratching his chin. “We, uh…I had a job to move her out here. From Boston. Was supposed to find, uh…her relatives…but that didn’t work out and my brother, Tommy, gave us a place here.”

Ezra nods but doesn’t say anything further. He sprawls in the chair, legs spread, almost slouched, one forearm draped over the side. Relaxed but intent, eyebrows drawn together with an unspoken question. Joel swallows, finding his mouth suddenly dry.

“You, uh, need to write this down or anythin’?” Joel coughs, gesturing to the notepad on the coffee table in front of them.

Ezra shakes his head, smiling slightly. “No…no, we’re just having a conversation. No need to put it on the record for now. So…Boston to Jackson. That must have been quite the excursion.”

“You could say that.”

“I expect it wasn’t exactly uneventful?”

“No,” Joel says, almost too quickly. “No, it was, uh…she went through a lot. Stuff no kid should have to see…to do. You’ll have to ask her about it, though. S’not my place to talk for her.”

“I intend to do that,” Ezra nods. “I look forward to getting to know her over the next twelve weeks. And hopefully beyond, if she’ll give me the chance.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Joel mutters. “She’s a bit…gunshy. Especially around, uh, men. Even Tommy…she can’t be alone with him, an’ he’s about as tame as they come.”

“But she feels safe with you?”

“Think so. I mean, I’m all she had for months…out there,” he shrugs. “But that went both ways. We’re prob’ly what you shrinks call, uh…codependent.”

Ezra nods, voice softening. “A little codependency can mean the difference between life or death in a difficult time. And I imagine it’s been an adjustment…all this. I know we–I–found it difficult at first. Even the thickest of walls aren’t enough if we don’t feel truly safe in the heart and mind.”

Joel bites his lip. “Yeah…yeah. It’s different.”

“And how about you, Joel?”

“How ‘bout me what?”

“You’ve been through a similar ordeal, I presume, traveling together. And now you find yourself the unexpected father figure to a dynamic and spirited young lady–”

Joel bites back a scoff. “This ain’t about me.”

Ezra shrugs. “I don’t mean to pry, and you’re free to pass on anything you don’t feel comfortable answering, of course. I’m just trying to build a picture in the interest of aiding my work with Ellie.”

The temptation to pass is strong, but that heat in his gut is still there, a distraction loosening his tongue. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s, uh…it’s been a lot. For both of us, but mostly her,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “She’s not used to havin’ someone in her corner. She’s…she was an orphan…before.”

He sighs, allowing himself to sink back into the couch cushions, shoulders loosening a fraction.

“I told her not to bring that damn knife to school in the first place,” he says, glancing down at his broken watch. “But she needed it when we were on the road. She’s prob’ly needed it all her damn life. Seems wrong to ask her to give that up when we’ve only been here a few months. Not that she’s s’posed to be waving it around at folks, or…y’know.”

“Mmm,” he says. “Well, I don’t intend to lay blame here. Raising a child…alone…comes with its fair share of hardships and trials. Regardless, it’s a noble endeavor, to take one into your care.”

He snorts. “Think she’s done more to take care of me than the other way around.”

“If I may be so bold…I suspect you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

“I’m sure she’ll tell you,” Joel says drily. “Kid’s not one to hold back.”

Ezra grins. “I sensed as much.”

He stands, offering his hand, and Joel takes it. The man’s grip is firm and warm and the memory of his touch lingers on Joel’s skin long after he’s left. That warm flare in his gut throbs, a not-unpleasant heat licking gently at the base of his spine, and he finally places it.

It’s been so damn long since he’s felt that particular burn, being on the road for months, never safe, never alone given Ellie’s constant companionship. There was probably a time or two in his early days with Tess when he found himself surprised by desire, but it was easily smothered, tamed, wrested into submission.

That night, Joel tosses and turns and finally gives into the low-level arousal that’s plagued him all damn day, palming himself roughly through his sweats until he’s fully hard.

He imagines Ezra’s eyes on him, watching, remembers the feel of the man’s skin against his palm. He bites back a groan of pleasure when he eases his waistband over his cock and takes himself out, allowing his grip to tighten and find a familiar, easy rhythm. He can’t get the younger man’s voice out of his head, that low, rumbling baritone, so oddly soothing.

He presses his face into the pillow to muffle the sound when he comes.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Brandi Buchman at HuffPost:

What happened at the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, according to many of the nation’s courts and judges, was an insurrection by the very definition of the word. So why, at the end of a yearslong probe, did special counsel Jack Smith ultimately forgo charging Donald Trump with inciting one? The answer was spelled out in Smith’s charging report to Attorney General Merrick Garland that went public on Tuesday. The report was an unambiguous presentation of why Trump’s alleged criminal effort to unlawfully retain power left prosecutors no choice but to charge him with four felonies. A federal judge (and Smith) only agreed to dismiss the case because Trump won the election in November and prosecutions against sitting presidents are against long-standing Justice Department policy. Smith’s report could be the final word any prosecutor ever has on Trump and Jan. 6. However, if prosecutors or congressional lawmakers can convince courts (and each other) in the coming years that an existing five-year statute of limitations for federal cases isn’t on pause while Trump is president, then Smith’s report may not be the end of one story, but the beginning of another. First, to understand where Smith ended up, a bit of history is necessary.

The Mile-High Road To Nowhere

In November 2023, Colorado District Court Judge Sarah Wallace ruled that Trump engaged in an insurrection against the Constitution in violation of Section III of the 14th Amendment.

The judge’s ruling stemmed from a lawsuit brought by six Republicans in Colorado and one unaffiliated voter who wished to remove Trump from the ballot ahead of the 2024 election. They argued that Trump’s remarks from the Washington Ellipse on Jan. 6, his alleged intimidation of voters and election and state officials, his failure to immediately call down the mob, and his alleged pressure campaign on then-Vice President Mike Pence to overturn the results of the 2020 election amounted to insurrectionary acts, and therefore his ouster from the ballot in Colorado was warranted. The voters argued that while Trump may not have engaged in violence personally on Jan. 6, that element did not need to be proven in order for him to be disqualified from the ballot. They claimed it was simpler than that, because Trump violated his oath to uphold and defend the Constitution and spent “three hours watching [the events] unfold on television without doing a single thing even though he was the most powerful person in the world,” a lawyer for the voters argued in court. In her 2023 ruling, Wallace said she was convinced Trump had “engaged” in insurrection, based on the harrowing evidence and testimony she’d considered. But she could not disqualify him.

Disqualification hung on a persnickety distinction: Section III, or the insurrection clause, did not actually consider whether the president of the United States was considered an “officer” of the United States, Wallace found. Section III of the 14th Amendment states: “No person shall be a Senator or Representative in Congress, or elector of President and Vice-President, or hold any office, civil or military, under the United States, or under any State, who, having previously taken an oath, as a member of Congress, or as an officer of the United States, or as a member of any State legislature, or as an executive or judicial officer of any State, to support the Constitution of the United States, shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the same, or given aid or comfort to the enemies thereof. But Congress may, by a vote of two-thirds of each House, remove such disability.” For “whatever reason,” Wallace wrote in her ruling, the drafters of the Constitution’s insurrection clause “did not intend to include a person who had only taken the presidential oath,” and it wasn’t for her court to decide what the drafters meant.

Trump fought the ruling all the way up to the Colorado Supreme Court, which ruled against him in December 2023. In a 4-3 decision, the state justices concluded that Trump was an officer of the United States, that he engaged in insurrection and that he must be removed from the ballot on those grounds. Trump appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court, and in March 2024 — one day before Super Tuesday primaries — the nation’s most powerful court ruled for the first time in its history on how to apply the insurrection clause. They reversed the Colorado Supreme Court’s ruling and declared that Colorado’s secretary of state had no authority to remove Trump from the ballot. While states could disqualify a person from running for office or holding it, the insurrection clause was something Congress alone had the power to enforce or modify, the court ruled.

Seeing Donald Trump walk away unscathed for inciting the January 6th insurrection is a massive failure.

See Also:

Public Notice: Jack Smith reminds us of the futility of truth in the Trump era

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

To Break Free

Summary:

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

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

A/N:

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

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

Chapter 1/10 - More to Come!

Chapter 1: Don't Be Ridiculous

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yours too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” was all you could say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh sweetheart, that’s not what I m-”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hope to see ya on Saturday,

Joel 

(512) 765 - 9140

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

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

Maybe you weren’t so alone after all. 

[darkmaga-returns]

Kash Patel, President-elect Donald Trump’s pick for FBI director, has released a list of 60 “deep state” adversaries he plans to target immediately when he begins his role next year.

The list, which includes President Joe Biden and network analysts, is detailed in his 2022 book Government Gangsters.

In the book’s appendix, titled “Members of the Executive Branch Deep State,” Patel lists those names alphabetically but acknowledges that the list is not exhaustive.

Patel said other “corrupt actors” could include Rep. Eric Swalwell (D-CA), Senator-elect Adam Schiff (D-CA), ex-congressman Paul Ryan, author of the Trump-Russia Steele Dossier Christopher Steele.

Patel also reassures the public he will be going after “the entire fake news mafia press corp.”

Here’s the list:

Michael Atkinson – Former inspector general of the intelligence community Lloyd Austin – Secretary of Defense under President Joe Biden Brian Auten – Supervisory intelligence analyst, FBI James Baker – Former general counsel for the FBI and Twitter executive Bill Barr – Former attorney general under Trump John Bolton – Former national security adviser under Trump Stephen Boyd – Former chief of legislative affairs, FBI Joe Biden – President of the United States John Brennan – Former CIA director under President Obama John Carlin – Former DOJ national security division head under Trump Eric Ciaramella – Former National Security Council staffer Pat Cipollone – Former White House counsel under Trump James Clapper – Former director of national intelligence under Obama Hillary Clinton – Former Secretary of State and presidential candidate James Comey – Former FBI director Elizabeth Dibble – Former deputy chief of mission, U.S. Embassy, London Mark Esper – Former Secretary of Defense under Trump Alyssa Farah – Former strategic communications director under Trump Evelyn Farkas – Former Pentagon official under Obama Sarah Isgur Flores – Former DOJ communications head under Trump Merrick Garland – Attorney General under Biden Stephanie Grisham – Former White House press secretary under Trump Kamala Harris – Vice President and former presidential candidate Gina Haspel – Former CIA director under Trump Fiona Hill – Former National Security Council staffer Curtis Heide – FBI agent Eric Holder – Former attorney general under Obama Robert Hur – Special counsel for Biden document investigation Cassidy Hutchinson – Former assistant to Trump Chief of Staff Mark Meadows Nina Jankowicz – Former head of Biden’s Disinformation Governance Board Lois Lerner – Former IRS official under Obama Loretta Lynch – Former attorney general under Obama Charles Kupperman – Former deputy national security adviser under Trump Gen. Kenneth McKenzie (Ret.) – Former CENTCOM commander Andrew McCabe – Former FBI deputy director Ryan McCarthy – Former Secretary of the Army under Trump Mary McCord – Former DOJ national security division head Denis McDonough – Former Obama chief of staff, current VA secretary Gen. Mark Milley (Ret.) – Former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Lisa Monaco – Deputy attorney general under Biden Robert Mueller – Former FBI director and Russiagate special counsel Bruce Ohr – Former DOJ official under Obama and Trump Nellie Ohr – Former CIA employee Lisa Page – Former FBI counsel Pat Philbin – Former deputy White House counsel under Trump John Podesta – Former Obama adviser, current Biden climate adviser Samantha Power – Former U.N. ambassador under Obama, current USAID administrator Bill Priestap – Former FBI counterintelligence chief Susan Rice – Former Obama national security adviser Rod Rosenstein – Former deputy attorney general under Trump Peter Strzok – Former FBI counterintelligence agent Jake Sullivan – National Security Adviser under Biden Michael Sussman – Former DNC lawyer Miles Taylor – Former DHS official under Trump Timothy Thibault – Former FBI agent Andrew Weissman – Mueller’s Russiagate deputy Alexander Vindman – Former National Security Council official Christopher Wray – Current FBI director under Trump and Biden Sally Yates – Former deputy attorney general under Obama Adam Schiff – Senator-elect and former House Intelligence Committee chairman

Earlier this month, Patel announced the “massive declassification” of troves of information ranging from the Jeffrey Epstein files to the “P Diddy” list.

Patel told Conservative podcast host Benny Johnson that releasing documents that implicate the Department of Justice and FBI for their illegal surveillance of over 250,000 Americans.

[a-shade-of-blue]

New Vetted Gaza fundraiser asks I've received (30 October)

Yasmine Nasr (@yasmeinnaser): Yasmin and her husband Khaldoun have 3 children: Fakhri (12), Mayar (10), and Mira (9). They are fundraising to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/bedd9806) (#208 on @/gazavetters vetted list)

Bilal Amer (@belal-amer1): Bilal has 5 children. He has been injured in his feet while one of his sons is injured in the chest.They need medicine for the severe pain. (https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=QW78AEXTH2ZVJ) (vetted by association. Bilal is a neighbour of @/kahlilahmad5 (shared by 90-ghost, shared by @/gaza-evacuation-funds. Also vetted by association))

Doua Abo safia & Ahmed Khalil Abdul Rahman Saleh (@ahmed-salh, @ahmad-doaa): Ahmed and his wife Duaa have 4 children: Malak (14), Muhammad, Majd and Sarah (4). Duaa wishes to complete her Master’s Degree in psychological counseling but is unable to. Sarah is suffering from skin diseases. (https://gofund.me/360ceaae) (#228 on @/gazavetters vetted list) (€75 raised of €50K goal, < 1%)

Ali Hilles (@steadydreamenthusiast): Ali (26) and is in Egypt but his family is still in Gaza. He has lost his cousin, Khaiser. His brother, Mohammad, is severely injured but has very limited access to medical care. He is fundraising to provide his family the funds to evacuate and buy basic necessities. (https://gofund.me/fd947c46) (#133 on @/gazavetters vetted list, shared by 90-ghost) (€2,914 raised of €100K goal, 3%)

Click here for my Google Doc with my complete masterlist of all the Palestinian gfm asks I've received, updated daily (along with other verified ways to send aid to Gaza).

How are gfm campaigns vetted?  See here, here, here and here.

See post here for other verified ways to send aid to Gaza.

Don't forget your Daily Clicks on Arab.org, it's free!!! and Every click made is registered in their system and generates donation from sponsors/advertisers.

See links below for my Masterlists of Vetted Fundraisers from the Palestinians who sent me asks for if you want to help more people! As well as resources for palestinian students if you are a palestinian student!

Masterlists of Vetted Fundraisers

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 13 - 25 July.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 26 -29 July.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 30 July - 1 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6 - 10 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11 - 14 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15 - 18 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 19 - 21 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 22 - 24 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 25 - 28 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 29 August - 1 September

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6-10 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11-14 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15-18 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 19-22 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 23-26 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 27-30 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 1-4 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 5-9 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 10-14 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15-21 October.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 22-26 October.

Resources for Palestinian Students!

Initiatives and resources to support Palestinian students, academics and universities:

This is a list of initiatives and resources for Gazan students seeking to complete their studies, including initiatives, resources, training and scholarships. See list here.

Scholarships for Displaced Palestinian students:

Putting this here for the palestininans who follow me: If you are a displaced Palestinian student looking to fund your education, this document lists the scholarships available around the world for displaced Palestinian students.

[owmylasagna-blog]

Hey Garfield Lasagna! I was looking at some old posts and I remembered you mentioning a "school teachers AU" at some point! But I can't remember if you ever expanded on it... were there any particular ideas you had in mind for the characters? If you don't mind my curiosity hehe, just thought I'd ask for fun 👀

Aw hey MB what’s up?? It’s been a minute, hasn’t it. Thanks for the ask and sorry it’s taken so long to reply to it. As you’ll see it took a while to respond because I wrote a lot. Lol.

For context, this extremely hypothetical school teacher AU was inspired by @doubledyke ‘s post about Edd being a school choir director and @mar-saturn ‘s fabulous drawing. The AU exists as a few comments there and some deep part of my memory. But I’ll try to remember what I can and it will be fun to fill in the rest! https://www.tumblr.com/mar-saturn/730274033161125888/i-had-to-take-this-out-of-my-system-thanks

Generally the premise of the AU is to take the cast of Ed Edd n Eddy, age them up, and turn them all into employees at Peach Creek Jr. High. I’d only fleshed out the Eds and Kevin so everyone beyond that I’m spitballing.

Edd - Music teacher and choir director

In any AU I have to make Edd a grad school burnout, so let’s assume that. Our little Renaissance Man maintained an affinity for music even as his dreams of curing mosquito bites were dashed by his declining mental health. As a teacher he’s a real stickler and can be a pompous pain in the ass, so most of the kids don’t like him. Despite that he loves to teach and revels in breakthrough connections with the band geeks and aspiring Broadway singers who see his vision.

Eddy - PE, Health, Sub

@gettingfrilly had suggested a coach McGuirk type gym teacher and that’s. Yes. And also a smattering of Coach Fredricks from Freaks and Geeks and Jack Black in School of Rock (again, fans like @hermes-running have made these parallels). Also only a little inspired by his cute little coaching outfit in One Size Fits Ed. The kids genuinely like him because he lets them do whatever during PE. Eddy is both super down to earth and honest with the kids and they respect that. When he subs they know it’s movie time.

Kevin - PE, Football Coach

Kevin on the other hand is a bit more of a hardass with the kids and will blow the whistle to shake the lead out of their sneakers when running laps. He and Eddy have a bit of a rivalry and often butt heads. Their beef runs deep: in this AU I imagine both Kevin and Eddy grew up in PC and went to school together where they were friends until they weren’t. Kevin got popular and stopped hanging out with Eddy. Eddy became the class clown and pranked Kevin and his in-crowd friends every change he got. The cycle continues to comical effect.

Ed - Janitor

Originally I thought art teacher would be a good fit (as did gettingfrilly) but I changed my mind. Instead, Ed gets the janitor job through his sister Sarah who already works for the school. Ed is sort of a mythical creature in the school, and the kids make up lots of lore and rumors about him. Mysterious, whimsical, pretty rubbish at his job, but genuinely friendly and sweet when you do run into him. He makes sculptures in the woods behind the school from the trash he collects which gets him some attention from other teachers…

Nazz - Guidance counselor

Nazz always knew she wanted to help kids. She has multiple degrees and certifications in children's psychology, social work, and counseling. She’s way too qualified for her position at PC but wouldn't change it for the world because damn do these kids really need her! She is genuinely liked by pretty much all the staff and kids, the cool and hip guidance counselor with great style and a laid back, approachable attitude. But don’t be fooled - she is also a fierce advocate for better teacher wages which can make her a thorn in the administration’s side. You can find her every Thursday night at the local watering hole organizing workers for labor unions.

Rolf - Science teacher

Before immigrating to the US, Rolf was a renowned surgeon in his home country. But as soon as he set foot into the Land of Opportunity all his credentials went out the window and that, along with his remedial English, left him with few options. For a few years he works as a butcher - it's what he did on his family farm growing up, afterall, and he knew his way around cutting flesh. But then an opportunity to teach science at PC gave him more time to care for his aging great Nano so he takes it. Despite improving his English, the students have no clue what he is saying because of his thick accent and foreign analogies. For the Rolf the job is just… fine. The football coach hits it off with him as does the nice blonde regardless of their cultural differences which makes it a bit more tolerable.

Jonny - Wood shop

Need I say more? Just imagine your classic stoner type, Bob Ross energy guy. His favorite song to play at the start of every year is “Everything That’s Made of Wood Once Was a Tree”. Plank is his teaching assistant and will come and give the most scathing critiques of the students’ birdhouses. Not Jonny. Plank. “What’s that, Plank? Not even a rabid ferret would crawl up and die in there… Gee, buddy. Go easy on poor Nelson, would ya?”

Jimmy - Art teacher

Freshly graduated with a shiny MFA in hand, the Chelsea galleries weren’t clamoring to represent Jimmy. This job is just a way for him to start paying off the debt until he makes it big, and he means BIG - he’s the next Warhol as far as he’s concerned. The rest of the art world just needs to catch up. His daring art projects and student shows scandalize the school admin and the parents. They don’t know that good art is evocative. One lunch on his smoke break he stumbles upon the most evocative artwork he’s ever seen in the woods behind the football field. And he just must - MUST - find the artist behind them.

Sarah - Assistant principal

Sarah is the right-hand-man to Principal Antonucci, keeping the chaos of PC in check. Without her, the whole school would have fallen apart at this stage. Young and ambitious Sarah isn’t afraid to run a tight ship to improve the reputation of the school. She quickly latches onto the new art teacher who also loves a good gossip session at lunch time - and boy does Sarah have plenty of opinions, and Jimmy is the best fly on the wall she could ask for. The worst trouble isn't even the students - it’s the drama between the PE teachers.

The Kankers

Lee and May Kanker are both single moms whose kids go to the school. Lee has a monopoly on the PC real estate and May is training to be a dental hygienist. Marie is the local mechanic who is often called in to repair the boiler at the school when a pipe inevitably bursts every January, and will also pick up her little nieces when either of her sisters are working overtime or studying for a big exam. The anklebiters love it when she rolls up in her hotrod, top down. And so does a certain guidance counselor.

That covers everyone!

In this AU the Eds aren’t childhood friends, but become friends from working at the school. The general sort of plotline I imagined was that the school musical sort of brings these three loner staff members together. Edd is directing the production and realizes that Eddy is actually a gifted dancer (lol I’m so cringe - indulge with me) and quite musically inclined, and that Ed has a real talent for making stage props and backdrops. And while this is happening, Edd and Eddy probably strike up a secret little romance because, if you know me, you know I can’t help myself. And the rest is history!

Wow okay that was a long winded answer but it was really fun to come up with! Thanks again for asking (: