#texan reader

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

hi! can i request ken x (male) reader who’s from texas and breaking ken’s idea of the patriarchy (mostly the realities of cowboy life lol) thank you!!

"Now what're you supposed to be, a cowboy or somethin'? Because it looks like you're goin' to a fashion show upstate."

Blinking owlishly, Ken spun around on his heels, coming face-to-face with you. He looked at your clothing up and down, noting you had a hat similar to his, along with ripped jeans, cowboy boots, and a buttoned plaid shirt.

His eyebrows furrowed with confusion, not seeing an apparent difference.

Nevertheless, he realized you were another human male who was trying to talk to him, and he was excited! This was his big chance to learn more about the patriarchy of the Real World!

But he didn't wanna let his eagerness show too much, so he leaned against a nearby pillar, keeping the books tucked against his side.

"Nah, I ain't goin' to no fashion show....partner..." He made a poor attempt at mimicking your accent, which he noted was heavily Southern, and it took all your willpower not to laugh your ass off.

Yet you couldn't help chuckling anyways, which made the blond pout as he adjusted the brim of his hat. "Awh I'm only teasin'." You shook your head. "I will say it does fit ya pretty good. Haven't seen anything like that back in Texas."

"...oh really? Thanks!" He put a big smile back on, trying to sound cool and casual. "Sounds like a fun place. I'm just here..seeing what this world's all about...getting accustomed to the patriarchy. Man, I wish Barbie told me about-"

"Hold on..." You stopped him in his tracks, being perplexed by several things he just said. "What about the patriarchy? You act as though it's a lifestyle-"

"Is it not? Because I see it all around us!" He spread his arms out. "It's incredible! Everything's backwards but yet...I'm just amazed! This world caters to us men!" Then he stepped closer, showing you the books in his hands depicting studies of horses and patriarchy, a sparkle in his eye. "Look, these books have already taught me so much!"

You blinked, taking one of them and frowning as you recognized the barcode as being from the school your cousin attended. "Ya realize you stole these from a school library, right-?"

"Back in Barbieland, we Kens had none of this stuff!!" He ignored your remark, yanking the book from your hands as he continued to babble on and on and how "awesome" the patriarchy is while pointing to a nearby horse statue.

He's acting as though this was the first time he's ever heard of it, firmly believing that it's all about men and horses.

That would've convinced you that this guy was either insane or living under a rock all his life....had he not mentioned "Barbieland", "Barbie", and "Ken".

'As in...the dolls my little cousins played with?' You pondered. 'Well it would certainly explain the outlandish outfit..and how it doesn't look like any lights are on upstairs...'

"So.." You cleared your throat, he was quick to shut up and let you continue, blinking as you offered your hand. "Before I forget...the name's [y/n]. A pleasure to meet ya."

He studied your gesture intensely, before putting forth his manliest handshake possible, his eyes lighting up when you laughed and complimented his strong grip. "And I'm Ken, the pleasure's all mine."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Well, [y/n]. You seem to embody everything a human man is, so...you got any advice for a fellow man who only just recently learned of all these great luxuries?" He raised an eyebrow.

You thought about it for a few moments, letting his hand go as your gaze went back to the books tucked under his arm. "Yeah, uh..for one, ya seem to be holdin' onto this "idea" that patriarchy's all about the horses. I hate to break it to ya....but it ain't that simple."

"....wait, it's not..?" He blinked in bewilderment, looking to the books and frowning. "Are you sure? Because these books told me-"

"They're outdated an' used for history projects at school. They don't accurately showcase modern cowboy culture, which is what ya seem to be enthralled with."

"...these don't???" His voice became higher-pitched, becoming utterly devastated that he was lied to. "But if it's not about horses..then...then what about the statues, hm? And those officers riding them?!"

"Ken..in this world anybody can ride a horse if they wanted to. You just happen to see more guys than gals doin' it."

"Oh..."

"Look, it's true that more men are in charge of stuff here in LA, but the patriarchy is really just a messy system that harms both sides." You frowned slightly. "It ain't somethin' I'd wanna idolize."

"...but why?"

You sighed, unsure of how you could possibly dumb it down for him even further. "'cuz it's turned some of my own friends and family into vile dirtbags who think the world owes them everything. I'd hate to see ya fall down that same pipeline."

He nodded in slight understanding, but seemed rather sad as he hugged the books to his chest, feeling like his dreams were shattered just as he began to realize them..

"I thought it was just like Barbieland..."

"Ya'll got a matriarchy there?"

"...I guess..? They write all the constitutions and stuff."

"And...how do they treat ya?"

"Like we're accessories." Ken huffed, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "They aren't terrible, but...I only have a good day when Barbie looks at me..which...hasn't been happening lately. I was thinking if I could show her the cool horses and stuff...she'll see me differently. See me for the man I can be."

You never expected for this conversation to derail into you trying to resolve a doll's identity crisis, but it's clear he was holding onto the misconception that the "Real World" was just opposite of Barbieland--where men had it all here and ruled without flaw.

That was far from the truth.

"Now changin' yourself for a lady isn't what ya wanna do, son." You patted his shoulder, causing him to look up at you in astonishment. "You're good enough as you are. But I take it that deep down...ya just care about the horses?"

He nodded again.

"Then..how about instead of reading this misleading garbage--" You tapped the binder of one of the books "--ya talk to someone who's lived the authentic cowboy life? Somebody with experience?"

Looking all around, he seemed confused for a moment, before his gaze returned to yours. "Like....you?"

"Yup."

"Isn't being a man and wearing this not enough?"

"It's a wee bit more complicated than that. It's hard work. But if you're interested in that sort of life, I can tell ya all about it." You offered, smiling as you watched the grin return to his face.

"I'd love that. Now if I don't need these stupid books, then I'll just--" He went to toss the stack into the nearest trash bin, but you were quick to intervene.

"Hey, hey, hey! Ya can't just throw away school property like that!"

"...but you just called this "garbage"."

"It's a figure of speech, Ken." Sighing, you just shook your head, taking the books off his hands. "You'll learn a lot about that here. Let's just go return these and I'll tell ya all about my life back in Texas. Whatever ya wanna know, I'll do my best to answer."

Ken's eyes shimmered at the prospect of hanging out with another guy..like all the other humans he's seen. That's all he truly wanted, really--just to bond with someone and not be in some aggressive rivalry unlike what he had with the other Kens.

He's lucky he ran into you.

"Can I ask something now?"

"Sure..if it's less than ten words." You humored him.

"Do..you..own..horses..? That's four." He grinned, counting on his fingers just to be sure of it.

"I do. Poor things couldn't take the dry heat of Texas, so they came along with me in a truck. I'll show ya pictures after we return these books."

Ken nodded eagerly, unable to hide his excitement as he followed you back to the library, ready to learn more about your culture.

[sky-is-the-limit]

P: Phillip Graves x 141!F!Reader

TW: CNC (kinda?), Breeding kink (kinda?)

WC: 979 words

Summary: The Shadows captured you during the 'Alone' mission and Graves just can't resist a pretty soldier like yourself, wink wink 🫶

Phillip Graves loomed over you, his taunting words slicing through the thick haze of your mind while his breath, heavy and tainted with the scent of tobacco, fanned across your face when he leaned closer.

"What would your dear Captain say if he could see you like this, hm?" He mocked with cruel amusement.

The table creaked beneath you, protesting the relentless force of his thrusts. Each brutal stroke sent a wave of heat crashing through your body, the obscene slap of skin on skin filling the air, the sound embarrassingly loud in the otherwise silent space across the illegally occupied base.

You were unraveling, each movement making you crack further, your voice reduced to a litany of breathless whimpers and filthy swears.

Every shred of dignity you had was gone, replaced by the raw, animalistic need he had ignited in you.

You were a traitor. First to your team, then to your Captain and now to yourself. Being captured by the Shadows had been out of your control but this? This dark, twisted pleasure that you found in Graves’ midnight visits? This was your fault. Entirely.

Every time he cornered you, pressing you against the cold walls of your cell, you spat venom at him, swore that you hated him, that you didn’t want his touch. But he always laughed, a low, humiliating reminder of your position before forcing you to face the reality.

The truth that, deep down, in the wicked, most corrupted corners of your being, you wanted this. Ever since he was assigned to assist the task force with El Sin Nombre, he was all you could think about.

Graves thrusted into you again, his brutal pace driving you to the edge, making your body betray you even more as you whimpered and pleaded beneath him with fists clenching at the air, desperate for something to hold onto.

"Maybe I should record you looking like a fucking mess and send it to the asshole-" The older man threatened, his grip tightening on your jaw as he pulled out, the wet sound echoing in the room before slamming back into you, filling you completely.

Your toes curled, ankles trembling as they squeezed around his thighs, his broad, drenched in sweat chest a searing sun against your own. He was immovable, relentless, and it felt like he would go on forever, leaving you with no hope of restoring whatever was left of the person you were before that damned mission in Mexico.

"You love it when I'm using your pretty little cunt, don't you?" He sneered, thick with arrogance. "You love big, bad Commander Graves corrupting every single part of you—fucking hell, look at you.''

You couldn’t deny it, not when your body reacted to his every word, tensing up in response even as you shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

He pushed deeper, harder, his cock brushing against your cervix with each punishing slap. It was heaven and hell, twisted together in the only way Graves knew how to give. Too much and not enough, all at once.

All you could feel was him, every inch of him stretching you out, grazing those most sensitive spots that had you teetering on the edge of delirium.

He was so thick, each slam driving you closer and closer to the brink and your cries only seemed to spur him on, his pace quickening as he pushed with such force that the wooden surface was promised to create lines against the wall behind.

"I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart." Graves declared, pride drowning in each syllable as his Southern drawl growed heavier with each word.

The promise in his tone made your breath hitch, your heart pounding in your chest as the implication of his words sank in and you knew he meant it, it was sharply defined in the blue fire of his gaze.

"I'm gonna cum inside you, again and again, until you're ruined for anyone else."

The very idea of it, of being marked, claimed, and consumed by him entirely, sent you into a spiral before your arms instinctively tightened around his neck, pulling him closer as if to brace yourself for what was to come.

Naturally, Graves took it as a challenge, a sign to plunge into you even further and your mind went numb, completely overtaken by the sensation and your hips began moving on their own, desperately meeting his ruthless assaults against them.

For a moment, he paused, savoring the way your body reacted to him before his hands moved to the back of your knees, lifting them to rest on his broad shoulders. The new angle had you gasping, the stretch so deep, so overwhelming, that it felt like he was splitting you in two.

Phillip didn’t hold back, he mounted you completely, his toned body towering over you as he began fucking you with a frantic, almost feral intensity.

The surface beneath you made a sound that resonated with you, a loud warning that it would break. You could feel yourself falling apart, every muscle in your body tightening as he pushed you further and further into a state of utter submission and humiliation in the filthy, cold cell.

"You're gonna carry me with you until your last fucking day." The Commander spat out with a sinister smirk, his hips snapping against yours with such precision that sent you over the edge, your body responding with a raw, uncontrollable spasm that made your vision white.

You were his, completely and utterly and there was no escaping the hold he had over you.

[squipa]

the stars at night (are big and bright)

aka you force jason todd to visit buc-ee’s forgive me this is so self-indulgent where are my southern jason fans

———

you didn’t expect jason to offer his company to you so easily, especially when that company meant a two day road trip and a week’s stay in the heart of texas. beyond that, this week included lots of time with your slightly crazy, slightly redneck extended family. you told him in no uncertain terms that he didn’t have to go, that your family would rip him apart with questions, and that it would not be an enjoyable week for him.

he argued that you had to suffer through meeting his crazy, intrusive, difficult, baggage-heavy family, so it was only fair he got to meet yours.

so here you are. in a buc-ee’s. on the side of the freeway in nowhere texas.

when you pull in, he quirks an eyebrow, checking the fuel gauge because he swears he just filled up the car. to his surprise, the tank still reads as full, and he has no idea why you’re here when you just stopped.

but no, you pull into one of the few empty parking spots in front of a giant tan building, ignoring the rows and rows of cheap gas pumps behind you.

“buc-ee’s?” he asks, and you grin. you haven’t had a lot of opportunities to show jason where you came from, and, well, you’re excited.

“you can’t come to texas without going to buc-ee’s.” you explain, pulling down the keys and sliding them out the ignition. he smiles, shaking his head.

“its a gas station.” he argues.

“it’s buc-ee’s.”

“it’s a gas station.”

“it’s buc-ee’s.”

he stares at you blankly, and you realize the only way to expose him to the magic of buc-ee’s is to show him, so you drag him from the car towards the building. you smile, noting his astounded expression while his eyes follow the masses of people filtering in and out of the building.

your hand slips into his and you pull him towards the worn copper beaver statue at the entrance. “let me get a picture.” you say, taking a few steps back. he shoots you a look while you pull your phone from your pocket, but nonetheless pulls a cheesy smile and poses next to bucky beaver. even though he thinks it’s stupid to take a photo next to a gas station mascot, he’d do much more than this to see you smile.

he lets you guide him around the buc-ee’s, marveling at the scale of the building. hand in hand, you take him past the cashiers and towards the bathrooms that you explain are exceptionally clean. when you both exit, he mumbles something about the ludicrous scale of the restrooms, but he doesn’t complain. you take his hand again, steering him towards the center of the building where the brisket resides.

“—so i normally get the chopped brisket sandwich, but the pulled pork and the three meat are just as good.” you explain, swiping your favorite buc-ee’s sandwich from the food warmers. “oh, and we can split a sausage on a stick.” you say, grabbing the wooden end of the tortilla-wrapped meat stick.

he laughs, almost in awe. you smile, pausing to look at him. you love it when he laughs, when he has that amazed look in his eye, when his mouth hangs open and he relaxes just enough to let himself be happy.

eventually, after two chopped brisket sandwiches, a sausage on a stick, a small paper cone of cinnamon roasted cashews, a box of beaver nuggets, a square of fudge, a diet coke and a orange cream soda, and two matching buc-ee’s shirts jason begged you not to buy but promised to wear, you make it back to the car.

“i told you.” you say, sliding into the passenger’s seat, plopping all of the goodies in the center console.

he playfully rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “tell me why you need a gas station that big?”

you shrug, unwrapping your sandwich. “it’s buc-ee’s.”

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Open Practice

Pairing: CJ Stroud X Black!FemReader

Description: Football players, in your experience, are either childish, toxic or horrible communicators; your ex just so happened to be all of the above. But it’s been a few years and people can change. Or will a certain qb decide to pick up the pieces your ex left behind?

Warnings: Toxic Ex!Brevin Jordan

Word Count: 800+

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Walking into NRG Park felt odd. You’ve been to a football stadium before but not before noon or because your ex-boyfriend invited you to his open practice. Your relationship was like open practice actually, you practiced being the best girlfriend and he liked being open, for everyone.

Texas was huge, they were right when they said everything’s bigger in Texas. Including egos, you realized when you received a text from Brevin minutes after tagging Houston in your story.

From: No Air Jordan 🏈

Hey baby, heard you were in my city😁 Swing by tmr’s practice and watch me cook then I’ll show ya around 😉

You honestly thought he must’ve taken too many shots to the head, your breakup consisted of a few long texts and pure ignorance so you assumed he got the idea. Yet here you are sitting in the bleachers of the Houston stadium. You wandered around for a total of 15 minutes searching for somewhere to sit. Brevin only sent the one text so you had no idea where to go or where he even was. You almost left and forgot about him but a player in a #7 jersey stopped you.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” Damn dreads, pretty eyes and perfect ass lips.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I was invited by someone on the team, but he’s not replying to me. So I was just gonna go.” You replied sheepishly.

“That’s cool, but if you want you could come over to my section. We’ll be done in about an hour and the view’s better over here.” He smiled.

He was cute, smooth and nothing like B, exactly your type. “Yea, I think I’d like that..”

“Oh sorry, I’m CJ. Quarterback.” Team leader = good communication. Noted.

“Y/n.” A whistle went off and grabbed CJ’s attention. “I guess that means ‘back to work.”

“Yea, we’ll talk after practice.” He flashed his award-winning smile once more then jogged back to center field. I’m definitely staying.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Watching CJ- the Texans practice was actually pretty fun, you never could pay attention during their real games because of the boisterous crowd, but here on the secluded practice field you could actually focus on the players and didn’t have large men yelling in your ears.

Truth be told CJ looked electric out there. Everything he did lit up the light crowd, which makes sense with all his clean complete passes. His offense was ten times better than their defense, which sucks when it comes to game time, but what can you do?

Every once in a while he’d look back at our section and smile, just for a moment you let yourself believe it’s you he’s looking at.

Unbeknownst to you and Stroud, Brevin also noticed how he was looking in your direction. His face would tense up and for each play he’d ignore all instructions and go after the quarterback. Since he was on defense it wasn’t that long of a stretch between his duties and his actions, but he got pancaked after every attempt.

By the time practice was over, your ex was even more angered than before thanks to the amount of bruises he accumulated over the last two hours. Then he saw you and CJ talking, suddenly all his anger was justified.

=͟͟͞͞♡

“I really enjoy talking to you Y/n. Is there any way I can persuade you into joining me in getting a bite to eat?” You lightly bit your bottom lip, the corners curling upwards at his question.

“I would love that-

“I hope you know she hates barbecue, and she don’t do relationships especially with athletes.” The voice of your emotionally incompetent egomaniac ex boyfriend interrupts you from afar.

Rolling your eyes you decide to pay him no mind and just turn back to the nice guy in front of you. “As I was saying, lunch sounds great.”

Then Brevin inserts himself again, now only the field barricade separates you. “You should know who you’re getting involved with CJ, they call her Jennifer because she’s a maneater.” He wears a mischievous grin and defensive stance.

You scoff, “a maneater who’s only here because my loser ex boyfriend slid in my DMs the second I got to Texas. A maneater that was thinking about maybe hearing you out after our relationship went wrong. Even better, a maneater that was nothing but faithful to your misogynistic womanizer ass.”

“If I’m such a misogynistic womanizer why did you come?” He smirks thinking he finally got one over you.

“I heard your quarterback was way bigger than you, so I had to come check that out.” He flared his nostrils, and stormed off the field, but not before spiking his helmet.

“Jordan you’re getting fined for that!”

CJ chuckles to himself, impressed at the way you handled him. “Did you mean it?” He smirked.

You lean over the barricade and breathily whisper in his ear. “Every word.”

Then pull back to watch his face as he sucks his plump bottom lip into his mouth.

“Let’s get outta here.”

~

Walking out of NRG Park felt odd. Not because of unsatisfying BJ, but because it was the first time you’ve walked out of a football stadium and enjoyed the outcome of events.

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ °

A/N: this sat in my drafts for too long, but I’m overcoming my posting anxiety and letting it see the light. Also I hit 100 followers🤭 tysm babes.

Main Masterlist

[cyanide-22]

CoD oc: Austin Graves!

I might write out a backstory for him if anyone cares enough to read it, he is big strong dummy and I love him

Please ask about him I need to ramble about him so badly

[gaypirate420]

Those Twilight fans trying to justify SMeyer decision to make one of her main characters a confederate:

[rennorthernlights]

The World We Knew

Chapter 1: Radioheart, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,

Trigger warnings; Zombies, mentions of death, very brief mention of suicide in the very beginning.

You can also go to AO3 for RenNorthenLights. I post more on there than here. If you go to my AO3 than PLEASE look at the tags for this fic! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

——————————————————————————————

October-ish, 2023. Time??? Location???

It’s become almost routine now.

Waking up at the ass crack of dawn, checking her backpack, cleaning her rifle, making sure the ‘room’ she’s in is safe. Over a year ago she wouldn’t be up this early. Over a year ago she wouldn’t even be touching her fathers rifle without permission. But life has a funny way of throwing curve balls. In this sense, life threw a massive curve ball at everyone and everything. The world as she knew it become sick with disease— No, not COVID-19, though many speculated that it was the reason, the beginning of it all. No it was the dead-come-back-to-life-and eat-your-face kinda disease. Normally people bring up that type of disease in conversations with speculations on the “what if” scenarios of what they’d do.

Many of her college friends all had plans and ideas and yet most of them now roam the streets looking for the next person to chomp on. Ironic isn’t it? She never believed she’d live this long hell many times the conversation of “Quick a zombie apocalypse happens! What do you do?!” She’d laugh and says she’d die in the next month or two. To which her friends would moan and groan because surely “You wouldn’t give up so easily?? Come onnnn what would you actually do.” She’d think it over and before putting much thought, she said.

“I’d kill myself.” Her friends went silent before laughing at how serious she sounded and even she laughed. A good banter back and forth as her college friends sipped on cheap booze. “No, no, but in all seriousness. I’d stay with my parents. My dads a police Captain after all. He’s taught me how to shoot before I could write and my ma… well she’ll probably teach me something.” Snorting a chuckle since her moms a teacher. One of her friends asks what she’d do if her parents became zombies.

“Well I guess I’d try to find groups to stay in. What do y’all think? I guess I’d put up with y’all.” Nudging her friend playfully on the shoulder. Laughter in the room as the music starts playing and the cheep booze starts kicking in. As her friends dance and sing to “Only Girl in the World” by Rihanna she sits on the couch in deep thought. Her drink in hand as she thinks bout her life. Thinks about her finals coming up and how she’s gotta take all the tests to become a nurse. Both her parents were exceptionally happy that she didn’t follow in their footsteps.

“I love kids but please… do not become a teacher.” Her mother sounded so exhausted when they spoke early on the phone. “And don’t become a police officer!” Her father yells in the background. The running joke for every phone call even though her parents are well aware that she’s going to be a nurse. She’s been deadset on it since she was a kid. She doesn’t plan on telling her ma that she’s gonna try and apply to be the school nurse where her ma works. Sipping her booze some more as the apple news on her phone pings “Reports of a New Virus, Scientists say… ”

She huffs, reading the first couple of paragraphs before getting bored and exiting out of the article. “Probably another variant of COVID. Great another shot I’m gonna have to take.” Turning her phone off and chugging her drink before she starts dancing with her giggly and much too drunk friends.

————————————————————

Oh how life turned so fast and so quickly the following week. Nearly half of the friends in the room became the first percentages of “Turned” and the other half “Missing, have you seen them?” She barely made it out herself. But that’s life. Cruel and beautiful and so, so lonely in the world she now knows. She stays too long thinking about it and she’ll drown. She doesn’t want to think about her friends, her home, her… family. It’s still too much even after all this time. Even with it being well over a year it still hurts.

Shaking her head of those thoughts as she gets situated. Glad that she triple checked the ‘room’ she’s in. Her anxiety has been through the roof these last couple days and every lil noise is having her jump. At least she can put her mind at ease since she’s checked and barricaded the exit. A couple deads outside that she handled quickly. Who knew that she’s be so proficient with a bat and knife? She’s a good shot but before a to keep her rifle hidden. Not many bullets being made anyways..

She turns her radio on as she waits for it to come to life. For months she been speaking on it. Using it as a dairy of sorts, it helps her when she feels the loneliest. Helps when the days feel colder than what it typically does in Texas. She spoke and spoke until one day it started speaking back. The man on the radio commented how he’s been hearing her speak and at first, he and his group thought it was a hoax since they couldn’t get the radio to work. She didn’t speak on it for days, but the men would still speak back and call out to her.

Finally, she worked up the courage to speak back and from then on, they’ve become a part of her routine. Once a day around noon they’d speak. She has her rules, No names, no locations, no descriptions. She doesn’t want to get attached only to one day not hear them speak back again. She doesn’t need another name added to her list of grief. That, and as much as she wants to trust them, she knows that humans can be just as dangerous if not more so.

“Static, come in Static.” She grins as she sits in the office room that she’s been sleeping in. Stretching her legs as she’s never gotten used to the floors even after all this time. Her legs stiff as her other hand rubs her knee. The radio crinkles and scratches until finally.

“Must you keep calling me that?” The man speaks, the heavy Scottish accent shining through, and she can just tell he’s grinning. “I’ve told ya, mah name is Joh- “

“No,” she cuts him off as she clicks on the button. “No names. I don’t... I don’t want to hear it, please.” She’s told him before that she doesn’t want to hear his name. He’s been understanding but sometimes he’ll still try it... The thought that there is an actual person behind the radio scares her and intrigues her. Hearing someone even through all this mess makes it all bearable even if it’s just by a little bit. “Don’t make me ‘hang up’.” A lighthearted threat. She wouldn’t actually do that. She needs her daily talks with them.

“I know, Bonnie, I know,” the voice speaks with understanding. The man knows all too well on why it’s easier to stay nameless, easier to not be attached incase the voice one day doesn’t speak back. “But one day I would love ta hear my name from your pretty voice.” The voice chuckles, “Where are ya now?” A hopeful tinged to his voice.

“You know I don’t give locations, Static.” Singing back her words with a furrow of her brow. “But… I’m in an office building.”

“Ah, I see that’s become a fan favorite of yours.” A tease in the man’s voice. “Oh, it seems my friend wants to speak to ya.” Her eyes perk up as she knows who is about to speak.

“Electricity!” She smiles big and she just knows Static is rolling his eyes.

“Sunshine haven’t heard from you since, Static,” emphasizing the other man’s nickname and she can practically hear the glare. “has been hogging you.” Electricity, as she’s been calling him even though he’s also tried to get her to call him by his name, has a much softer voice. Calmer and levelheaded compared to Static who's more outgoing and louder. She’s called them the duo 1 and duo 2 before she called them Static and Electricity. Much to their annoyance and amusement, much better than her other idea of calling them Thing 1 and Thing 2.

“Well next time hit him or something.” She smiles as she can hear Static mouthing off something. Probably Static telling him where she’s been in for a bit. “In an office building again? That seems to be your usual, yeah?” The man speaks lowly. His words concerned and yet with the subtleness of memorizing something.

“Am I that predictable, Electricity? She stands up from where she was sitting. “Static said something similar.”

“Not predictable just doing what you always do, Sunshine.”

“That’s… That means I’m being predictable.” She teases as he stammers.

“No, no, I meant that you are more comfortable with what you know to be safe.”

“Soooo predictable with my safety?” She teases as she can hear him muttering “bollocks” like he always does when, she assumes, he is flustered. “I’m pulling your leg, Electricity. Just messing around and being a brat.”

He laughs and sighs in relief. His voice cool like the summer breeze after a rainy day. “So where are you?” His voice sounding slightly insistent.

“No where near you.” Rolling her eyes as they always ask the same questions everytime they talk. “Quit askin, I’m fine on my own. I don’t do groups and you know why.” She’s told them about her run in with the only group she’s been with. Handmaidens Tale meet zombie apocalypse and she barely got out.

“I know, I know, you’ve done well on your own, but a little help goes a long way, Sunny.” Sometimes she wishes she would hate the nicknames that they give her but it does give a warm fuzziness in her stomach whenever they say it. Sighing as she speaks back. “Oh yes because you’re military right?” A bit of sarcasm in her voice as this is one of her questions that she always asks.

“Taskforce 141, Special Operation Forces, you already know this, Lass.” The other man speaks making her jolt. Guess he was listening in when she was speaking to Electricity.

“Yeah, yeah, just making sure you’re not lying and trying to sound more badass than you both already do.” Remarking quickly as a light blush spread on her face. The way he’s speaking sounds deeper. Like she’s in trouble somehow and he’s going to correct her.

“We know, Sunshine, we know you just want to be safe. It’s hard to trust especially with the dead around.” Electricity’s speaks softly, the cool to Static’s heat, “But to say it again; Joh— I mean, Static, is a Sergeant and I am also a Sergeant. Static is an expert in demolitions and trained as a sniper. I myself am an expert with prime target eliminations and covert surveillance.” He says it so sincerely and she has half a mind to believe him.

“And why are you all the way in Texas then?” They’ve told her how they moved up here and she knows the reason, but she wants them to say it again.

“We received word that a base, Fort Sam Houston, was working on a cure for the zombie virus. The BAMC is a hospital within that fort that was conducting research.” Electricity sites off the very thing that they’ve repeated for the last month.

“And?” She makes a go on motion that they can’t see but she knows that they can imagine that’s what she’s doing.

“But when we got there it was already over run and Kyl— I mean Electricity almost got killed in the process.” Static says, he sounds upset. “We’ve been over this, Lass. We tell you about the same things over and over again.” A hushed murmur from Electricity is heard and she starts feels bad.

“I know… I’m sorry, I just...” she starts off as she tries to not sound upset. “I just want to make sure that I can trust you. Last time I did...”

“Handmaidens tale, you’ve told us about it. The leader, Abraham, is a far-right Christian, yes?” Static says the man’s name and she shivers as she gives a tiny yes in reply. “He tried to keep you. To force you to stay with his group and be treated as a... how did you say it?”

“A breading cow.”

“Yes, that,” he sighs deeply on the radio, and she wonders what he and Electricity looks like. Wonders if they are as comforting as their warm voices. Wonders if they have beards or stubbles but her self-imposed rules keep her from asking. “I know it’s a lot, learnin ta trust when it's hard to. We’ve promised since the beginnin ta be honest and if I ever see him.” The threat is laced in his voice but he clears his throat. “Enough of that. We are finally moving to Houston. We acquired a car. A Jeep to be more precise. Any chance we’ll be near ya?”

“You might be…” she says softly as she bites her tongue. The urge to let them come to her gets harder and harder to say no to everyday they speak. “I don’t give locations, Static.”

“I know but can’t blame a man for trying. Oh?” She can hear his eyebrows furrowing as voices in the background speak. They’ve told her that they are a group of 4 in total. She’s never heard the other 2 speak but she can sometimes hear them… they sound funny. “It seems we have to cut this shorter, Bonnie.”

“We’ll speak again tomorrow, Sunshine, we promise.” The other man promises, and she knows they will. They’ve never broken a promise. Never did more than what they couldn’t do from the month that they’ve talked.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow and please,” she stresses the word as she hopes and prays that one day they can meet. That she’ll be brave enough to let them in and find her. “Please be safe. Please don’t get hurt, okay? I’ll metaphorically hit you, I swear I will.”

“Always, Bonnie, we will always be safe. Take care and check corners and windows. Make sure you can quickly get’n and out. Don’t go’n if your gut tells ya not to.” Static says, listing off his advice like he would to a fresh-faced recruit. “Don’t play fair and don’t play kind. Everyone’s an enemy until proven otherwise.” He waits a couple seconds before he passes it to the other man.

“Make sure to pack light and that you can easily grasp your weapon.” Electricity warns. A deep sigh from him before he speaks, “And if you ever… if you ever need help, just... please just tell us. We’ll do whatever we can to come for you, okay?” He waits and waits for her to speak but when she doesn’t, he sighs. He waits another minute and then the radio turns to static signaling the end of their conversation.

“I know,” she says softly as she hears the static of the radio. “Be safe, please be safe.” She murmurs the bits of name that she has overheard them say. Going against her own rules of not saying their names even though she knows it’s half of what their names are. She’s gotten too attached and now… now she’s worried. Worried for men she’s never met and probably never will.

“One can dream,” she rolls her shoulders and bends to stretch. Her stomach growling as she knows it’s about time to eat. Pulling her backpack on the office desk and opening it. A couple cans of food and jerky from gas stations. 2 water bottles and a simple medkit along with an extra shirt and pants. “Okay… raviolis or beans….” Humming as sits and pops open the beans. “I’ll save the raviolis for a special day.”

She’s sat for too long on her ass now it’s time to get a move on. Can’t stay for too long in the same places. Always gotta keep moving to different places. Curse the anxiety that still makes her think that a zombie is around every corner. Guess that’s what she’s been alive for so long.

[skullywullypully]

Imagine spider!reader (or your OC), who's usually a shy and happy person slow to anger, comes to HQ one day, all hot, angry, and cursing up a storm.

Y/N: Damnit, damnnit, damnit, damnit, dagnabit, damnit, damn, dagnabit, dagit nagit, nabit dagit!

Everybody else:

[xcherryerim]

I had to edit Billy with a song from Cowboy Carter IM SORRY

[orvdiscrepancies]

Discrepancy #27

AKA, I don’t know how subways work

We all know that Joonghyuk starts in subway car 3707 and Dokja is in car 3807.

In the Webtoon, car 3707 is BEHIND car 3807.

[ORV Webtoon, Episode 4]

In the novel, car 3707 is IN FRONT of car 3807.

[ORV Novel, Chapter 5]

I live in a small Texas town and have been on a subway only a handful of times. I don’t know how the car number system works. Sure I could look it up, but it’s more fun to let someone else tell me.

Logically, it makes more sense for car 3807 to be behind car 3707. That way it’s numerical. But who knows. Maybe that’s wrong.

Is there even a front to subways? Do they not just go back and forth on the track so both ends are technically the front? I feel like the front would be whichever way the subway is going. I don’t know.

The first time I got on a subway was in France and we got really lost. Probably cause we don’t speak French. And probably because 2/3rd of our group had never even seen a subway and the other third hadn’t been on a subway in 30 years.

[entertainmentgirl80]

Texan & Georgian: Love Story (Jake "Hangman" Seresin X OC Reader) 👨💚🧑🏾🤠

Warning: Fluff, There Some Romance Tension Between The Characters, And Of Course Hangman Being Him.

It's a nice sunny day in San Diego, California. You were just moved here from Atlanta, Georgia, to start fresh. So while you are unpacking your stuff in your new apartment, you decide to call your mom to make sure you are straight and settle in after you move....

*Rings, rings*

"Hey Mama," you say hi, first.

"Hey baby girl, how are you?" She said hi back.

"I'm doing fine, just getting in and unpacking more stuff. What about you? How is the jewelry business and my doggy twin?" You ask her

"It's doing well, and your doggy twin is out on the patio enjoying the sunshine. So, what are your plans over California?"

"Probably go out, just sideseening and that all." You tell your plans to her.

"Alright, baby girl, but listen, I'm gonna let you go and do your thing, talk to you later, love you."

"Okay, love you more, bye bye." You hang up the phone.

Later on that evening, you already got dressed, and you is wearing one of your Shein graphic t-shirt dresses that you got on, you put on some little makeup, and you is wearing some of your gold bracelets and your rings on too as well with your bucket hat on, just to make sure you look decent while you going out. So after the Uber dropped you off at this bar called The Hard Deck, which is a casual bar/hangout place for the military & the navy.....

"Well, this is an interesting bar, so I'm guess it's wouldn't kill me to enjoy myself for a one drink and be around people." You said to yourself before you go in the bar. So after you went inside you saw different types of military people from men to women and there also regular people hanging out too as well, so as you walk towards to find you a seat and sit down, a tall good-looking but gorgeous man with blond hair & beautiful green eyes staring at you while you sitting down waiting for your drink to order by a beautiful brunette older woman by the name of Penny Benjamin. So you look around just to feel the vibe in the bar, and this man keep staring at you, and giving you a smile and a wink, but you turn back around and while your cheeks is blushing.....

"Here your soda, love, enjoy. Let me know if you need anything, okay? Penny gives you a warm smile.

"Okay, thank you, ma'am, I appreciate it." You thank her after she gives you your drink.

So, while you enjoy yourself while drinking your coca-cola and looking at your phone, what is going on, on your social media. The guy with the beautiful green emerald eyes with the toothpick in his mouth taps you on your shoulder and wanna introduce himself....

"Howdy there, pretty lady, how are you this evening?" He greets you in a Texan southern accent.

"Hi, I'm doing fine, how about you sir?" You smile at the handsome man.

"I'm good darlin', can't complain, so what got you looking cute this evening?" He ask you.

"That good, well you know just to get out for a minute, and I'm just move here, by the way."

"Oh well, that understandable sweets, so where you from if you don't mind asking?" He wanna know.

"I'm from Atlanta, Georgia, born & raised, what about you and also what your name by the way if I don't mind asking?" You tell him where you from.

"Texas, born & raised, and my name is Jake Seresin, but my callsign is Hangman." He tell you his name and his callsign.

"That what up, nice to meet you, Jake. But why is the name "Hangman" though? Is it because you like playing the game when you were a child or something?" You raise your eyebrow, just out of curiously.

"Well, it is because I'm have a reputation to hang people left to dry." He explains.

"Oh, well, okay, so do you still do that to people?" Asking curiously.

"No, after my last mission and help out my fellow teammates and being the team leader that I am, it's changed my perspective."

"That good, so what do you do for a living, though?"

"I'm in a navy, and also I'm a pilot, by the way." He has a grin on his face.

So, after hours & hours on having a conversation between the two of you, you felt more comfortable talking to him about everything, even though you just met him, and he is more comfortable, and understand where you coming from. But however, you never thought a gorgeously but handsome blond man with a cocky personality starting to develop feelings towards you after y'all met in this bar. But the feeling is mutual between you & him, the way y'all look each other's eyes, the way he put his hand on your wrist while y'all slow dance during a slow R&B song on a jukebox. It's like a fairytale came true that you found your prince charming and he found his future wife & soulmate, even though y'all two from different worlds regardless of your race, so after both of you pay both of y'all tabs, you ask Jake can he come home with him....

"Hey, it's getting late, and I know we just met, but can I crash to your place for tonight, if you don't mind at all?" You ask while you yawn.

"Of course, not at all, suga, and don't worry , I won't murder you." He has a smile on his features.

"Thank you, so you ready go?" You have a lazy smile on your face.

"Ready that I'm ever be darlin, let go home." He kisses you on your forehead, and y'all left to go back to his place for the night.

A/N: This is the prequel to part 2, this is how they first met for the first time. I hope y'all like it. Thank you for reading, sharing, and reposting for my last story 🙏🏾 🫶🏾🫶🏾😌

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Currently working on some fics with these two

[johnnytoronto]

genius idea... nfl teams should choose themes for gameday fits...some cohesion if you will

[ghostlovesbaguettes]

EHEHEHHEHEHE OKAY WHAT A QUINKY DINKY TWINKIE LINKY THAT THIS COMES OUT RIGHT AFTER MY PERIOD ENDS ✋😩😩😩😩😩😩

OKAY BUT MR JOELY WOELY BEING LIKE SWEET BUT KIND OF A CUNT WAS LITERALLY PERFECT 🫡😍😘 ALSO ALSO ALSO I JUST LITERALLY LOVE WHEN YOU WRITE ABT THE READER HAVING A BUSH!!! LIKE YES BITCH YOU SHOW THAT FUR OOFFFFFFFF

Seeing Red

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)

Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too

I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚

You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.

“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 

You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”

“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 

Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 

“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 

 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 

Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 

“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.

“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 

He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 

You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want this,” you grouse.

“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 

Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”

“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 

“I said yes,” you snap. 

Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”

“Just okay.” 

‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 

Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 

-

He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. After fetching your pad and underwear for you, Joel spent the night tinkering with the unpredictable VHS player so that it would play movies for you as you rested on the couch. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”

“Mmm, no.” 

Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 

Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 

-

“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 

“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 

“What’re you talkin’ about?” 

“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 

Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”

“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 

Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 

“The other one.” 

You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 

So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”

“JESUS,” you yell at him. 

“What?”

“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 

 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 

“No. It was burning me.” 

“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 

You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 

“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 

“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 

“You can ask, you know.” 

But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”

“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 

“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”

“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 

“Yes.” 

He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 

“It’s not your business.”

 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 

“I don’t want to,” you whine. 

“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 

“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 

“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 

You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 

“All of it.” 

You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 

“Yeah. I see that.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.

“Right.” 

“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 

“Somewhere else.” 

“Right. Somewhere else.” 

He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 

“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”

Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 

“Yes.” 

Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 

“Good.”

Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 

Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 

-

My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 

“Joel.” 

No answer. 

“JOELLLL,” you yell. 

Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 

He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”

You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”

“Hm,” he hums.

“What’s hm?” 

“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”

“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 

Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”

“Try what again?” 

You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 

“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.

“Yeah, but-” you begin.

Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”

He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.

Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 

It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.

“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”

You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 

He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 

There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 

“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 

He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 

“Where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 

 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper. 

“Exactly.” 

Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 

You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 

“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”

“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”

“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”

“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 

“Figures.”

Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 

Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 

He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 

“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 

Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.

“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”

“Joel, I– ”

“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 

 You obey his rule and nod, yes.

He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

Yes. You nod again. Quiet.

“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”

With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 

With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 

He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…

“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 

“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 

With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 

And fucks you, and fucks you. 

And keeps fucking you. 

It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 

This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.

 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 

It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 

“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 

“I’m - I’m–”

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”

 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 

He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”

“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”

“I don’t think I can, Joel…”

“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 

That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”

You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.

He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 

Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 

“Super, yeah. Sore.” 

“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 

If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷

Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.

[sodapoppp]

˚୨୧ 𝗷𝗼𝗲𝗹 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿 ⋆｡˚ ⋆

a list of my favorite joel miller fan-fictions ༊*·˚

౨ৎ getting the poison out by @cum-a-calla

"in which you’ve been acting up all fucking day and Joel has to put you back in your place with a punishment tailored to fit the crime."

౨ৎ ride by @beardedjoel

"you try to grapple with feelings for your parents' friend while getting absolutely railed by him"

౨ৎ just this once by @punkshort

"After yet another argument with your dad, his buddy across the street is there to help make you feel better."

౨ৎ ain't right by @celiababy

"You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him."

౨ৎ rotten by @alltheirdamn

"Joel decides to surprise you with something nice, but you're not in the mood. He's quick to fix your attitude, and put you in your place."

౨ৎ an old toy by @ilikemenolderthanmyfather

"Joel gets kidnapped and used like a toy, and best of all, he gets the save a hoarse ride a cowboy treatment."

౨ৎ bigger in texas by @gutsby

"Joel won't fit."

౨ৎ i know who you are (series) by @punkshort

"A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way."

౨ৎ made of ice by @starlitscars

"One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you."

౨ৎ stiff by @gutsby

"At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in."

౨ৎ independent contractor by @lady-djarin

౨ৎ fine line by @paulyenvol6

"Very angsty and lots of dom!Joel with daddy vibes and subby reader."

౨ৎ shaping you by @joelswhcre

"joel miller teaches you pottery, but his hands are more interested in molding you than the clay. slow, teasing, and messy in all the best ways."

౨ৎ sleepless nights by @preciosapascal

"another sleepless night in jackson for both you and your neighbour Joel."

౨ৎ hunger by @joelswhcre

"you wake to the weight of joel miller between your thighs, hungry and aching to claim you. he’s been patient, but now? now he’s going to take."

౨ৎ keeps you up all night by @joelswhcre

"joel wakes up hard, again. and there’s no way he’s letting you sleep through it."

౨ৎ world's worst chauffer by @ilikeevilblondes

"Joel Miller, your dad's best friend, ends up getting roped into picking you up from a party. Without the key to unlock your house or anybody to let you inside, Joel offers to let you sleep at his place for the night. Needless to say, the both of you don't do a lot of sleeping."

౨ৎ texan tensions by @pedroscowgirl

"Your dad's buddy learns you how to play the guitar"

౨ৎ breaststroke by @ilikeevilblondes

"Joel, single dad extraordinaire, is struggling to teach his daughter how to swim. You end up teaching Sarah over the course of a few weekly swimming classes. One fortunate day, Joel accidentally stumbles upon a rather intimate situation involving you in the shower rooms after hours. He’s about to leave, but right before he can, he hears his own name spilling out in a desperate moan from your lips."

౨ৎ i will not ask and neither should you by @cherry-coloureddfunk

"you should have hated him"

౨ৎ drabble by @daryltwdixon

"angsty Joel thinking he doesn't deserve you"

౨ৎ somehwere only we know by @josephquinnswhore

"joel has been the only constant in your life since you’ve been at Jackson. But you don’t know if you deserve him despite his persistent efforts."

౨ৎ borrowed time by @aurorawritestoescape

"Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul."

౨ৎ how the cookie crumbles by @egcdeath

"when you come back home to austin to help your sister with her bakery, you end up in an arrangement with your high school crush that ends up being far more than you bargained for. "

౨ৎ a glimpse of heaven by @ozarkthedog

"joel secretly watches you shower."

౨ৎ damp, dirty, his by @pascalispimp

"Joel’s been through a lot, but mysteriously damp flannels? That’s a new one. When he sneaks home to investigate, but what he finds is far filthier than he imagined. His housemate’s got a thing for his shirts… and from the way she’s moaning into one, she’s got a thing for him too. And Joel’s got every intention of making it worse."

౨ৎ dream scape by @joelswhcre

"it’s just a dream—you’re sure of it. because there’s no way joel, your best friend’s dad, is actually between your legs, making you fall apart on his tongue. right?"

౨ৎ give up by @talaok

"Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun."

◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡◡

-> as i was curating this i realized most of it is smut... i promise ya'll i do not have a problem

-soda

[gaycowboysblog]

WHAT

they say pressure makes diamonds, how the hell am I still coal?