#'are you old enough to have used CDs regularly'

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 13 Summary:

The road to Jackson was going to be hard, you knew and Joel knew it, but will the two of you make it harder on yourselves? After car troubles leads to a run in with some raiders, your promise to live for one another is tested yet again. With infected stumbling around the streets and the only viable escape plan incredibly dangerous, can you trust each other enough to give up control? Can you form a real partnership, despite the impossible circumstance you find yourselves in?

Warnings: Angst, Fears About Losing Each Other, Local Man Learns How to Communicate His Feelings, Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence with Raiders and Infected, Smut, Oral m&f receiving, Anal Play, Joel Def Has a Itty Bitty Breeding Kink, Minors DNI.

A/N:

Hello my lovelies, hopefully you are all doing well :) I'm back across the pond now so you shall be seeing me more regularly again!

This chapter is going to be a two parter. The second part is already in the works, I just need to put some finishing touches on it. Major angst in store for this chapter. Along with that, some canon-typical violence as reader and Joel go up against infected and raiders. But don't you worry, I sprinkled some smut in for you ;) The journey to Jackson will continue in the next chapter, where reader and Joel will encounter a different sort of threat. Stay tuned to find out what happens!

Chapter 13/20

Chapter 13: The Road to Jackson Pt. 1

The first day that Joel had ushered you from your childhood home, gruffly explaining that Jackson was the only option left for the two of you in this particular circumstance, he had tried to market it as the easiest option. The little enthusiasm he showcased was forced, you could tell by the way the hopeful remarks didn’t reach the gloom in his eyes, but you played along for his sake. It broke your heart to see him so morose at the thought of returning to Jackson, to what remaining family he had, but you understood how he felt. 

Although you were excited at the prospect of Jake hopefully being there with his family, the possibility of your mother simply existing in a space near you made your stomach twist. There was no part of you that hated her, but that didn’t mean that you missed her presence in your life. Perhaps, for entirely different reasons, Joel felt the same about his own blood. It made you think of the childhood picture you had found weeks ago in Joel’s drawer, the one with him and his brother dressed up in halloween costumes as little boys. That was when you decided to liven up the journey a bit. 

Before leaving, you made sure to grab the old pop CD filled with the hits of 2002 that you had wedged beneath your floor boards to keep Josiah from confiscating it. To your surprise, upon hearing the songs, Joel’s eyes had quickly turned glossy. A soft smile brightened his strained face, if only for a moment, as he quietly hummed along to a Destiny’s Child song. When you looked at him questioningly, eyebrows raised at his low humming that didn’t miss a single note, he had shaken his head and looked away. 

“Sarah used to listen to this crap, even dragged me along to some concerts with her friends. I didn’t care for it much but I still remember how it goes I guess,” Joel explained sheepishly. 

“Hard to imagine you partying it up with a bunch of preteens at a concert,” you giggled, squeezing the rough hand that rested on your thigh. 

He chuckled and shook his head, smiling fondly at the memory. 

“I worked a lot but when she wanted to go to things like that, I always tried to make the time. It didn’t always work out, Tommy used to pick up some of the slack when I couldn’t be there, but I tried,” he said. 

You smiled at that, feeling warm at the thought of Joel standing in a crowd of screaming pre teens simply because his kid wanted to be there. It was comforting to know that he had always been that way, a true caretaker through and through, even long before the world went to shit. The world ending may have hardened him for a period of time, but the man that did everything for his pup was still lurking inside, waiting for the right person to draw him out again. 

Plus, even though Joel said he thought the music was crap, there was a part of you that wondered if he truly disliked the catchy tunes as much as he claimed to. It was hard to believe that he hated the songs when he seemed to know the words to the majority of them. As you listened to him softly mumble along to the third song on the track, you noticed how soft he looked. All of the lines in Joel’s face had smoothed out, making him look like a young man again as he maneuvered the car around abandoned vehicles and snow piles. 

With him so relaxed, you decided that it was the perfect time to ask him some questions. When Joel had confided in you in the carcass of a child’s bedroom back at the cabin so many moons ago, a million questions about Sarah and Ellie, about him as a younger man, had surfaced in your mind. However, you held off, knowing that him telling you about their deaths and his belief that he failed them was already so much for him. In addition to that, the two of you had just mated, so you believed that you would have all the time in the world for those questions. Nevertheless, life has a funny way of laughing at a person’s assumptions and Joel had been taken from you that very same day. 

“What else would you guys do together?,” you asked him.

And that was how the day was spent, with you cozying up to Joel’s side as he drove through the quiet and icy streets, listening to him tell stories about the girl that he lost. By the end of it, you felt like you knew the free spirited and self reliant teen that was his entire life before the outbreak. The way he brought her to life with just his words was truly impressive and you could tell that it was lifting a bit of the weight that pressed down on his shoulders. 

“I wish I could have met her Joel,” you had admitted to him after he finished telling the story about Sarah and Tommy creating hand signals to mess with him. 

Joel sighed, “Me too darling. I think she would’ve liked ya, always went on about me meeting my soulmate someday. She really believed in true love, true mates, all that shit. Can’t tell you how many of those teen romances that girl took me to, wanted to burn the damn theater down. ” 

You laughed and leaned up to peck his cheek, earning a smile from him from the gesture. 

“You don’t believe in it? True love, true mates, all that shit,” you asked, mimicking his southern drawl as you repeated his list. 

Joel blinked and took his eyes off the road for a moment, raking them over your features before he returned his gaze to dying day. The red tinge to his cheeks deepened, making you smile at his sudden shift into a bashful teenage boy. It was cute but as usual, you restrained yourself from telling him that. There was something about Joel that led you to believe that he wouldn’t take kindly to being called cute, despite the fact that it was one hundred percent true. 

“I didn’t before,” Joel admitted quietly, his words almost overpowered by the roar of the ancient engine. 

“And now?,” you prodded, snuggling deeper into his side to breathe in the spiciness of his musk. 

He swallowed audibly and placed a kiss on the top of your head, tightly squeezing one of your hands in his before he answered. You knew the answer, you felt it in every moment spent with Joel. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. 

“Well, now I’m more inclined to believe her,” Joel murmured against your hair. 

That made you smile brightly, twisting around to steal a kiss from his lips. He indulged you for a few seconds, humming as your lips met his and allowing you to take from him until he had to pull away. Grousing about needing to pay attention to the slickened streets, Joel had carefully shoved your head back to its place against his shoulder. Despite his grumbling, you knew it was just a front to cover up his distaste for vulnerability and swiftly let him switch the topic of conversation. 

After telling a few buffer stories about his younger brother, your favorite being the one where he had to bail Tommy out of jail for streaking a televised football game, Joel had even talked about Ellie a little, although you could tell that it was harder for him to do so. The wound of losing her was still too fresh to aggravate with the same type of storytelling he had used to talk about Sarah, yet you were just happy to finally know something more about the girl. Plus, it was nice to finally understand the reasoning behind why Joel had so many random things in his cabin. 

The butterfly on the wall of the bedroom was for Sarah, something about it reminding him about a trinket that had hung in her room once in Austin. The keychain with the soccer ball that hung on the hooks near the front door was also something he picked up to remind him of his first born. However, the joke book on his bedside table that he constantly skimmed, the random comic books and space travel monographs mixed in with his more well read westerns and crime mysteries, were all reminiscences of Ellie. 

After hearing about his girls, Joel began to ask you about what you remembered about your life before the outbreak. The memories you had from that short time period were slim but you managed to tell him a few things about your parents, the holidays you celebrated, and the things you liked to do. Joel perked up when he heard about your father’s profession as an architect, quickly trying to get as much information about his work as he could. You couldn’t tell him much, given the fact that his work had just been odd symmetrical drawings to a five year old, but you told him about how he used to point out the types of buildings he worked on as the family drove through town. 

“Sarah would always roll her eyes at me when I pointed out the houses I worked on. It’s a part of the job I’m afraid,” Joel laughed. 

You smiled, “I didn’t mind it. He was always pretty good at getting people excited about the things he cared about, it was like his superpower or something.” 

“Glad to know you come by it honestly,” he joked. 

The pinch you gave to his side made him chuckle and swat your hand away. Joel shook his head and leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead again. The feeling of his mouth pressing into your skin made you smile and shimmy even closer to him. If you were any closer to Joel, you’d be on his lap, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to relish in it. Like magnets, the two of you were fused together when in each other’s presence. To do otherwise felt unnatural. 

“I used to work with a lot of architects back in the day. Always thought that if I had had the time or money, maybe that’s what I would’ve ended up doing,” Joel sighed wistfully. 

You cocked your head, “What do you mean? Why couldn’t you?”

He laughed in a way that made you feel a bit sour, like he was making fun of you for not understanding a world you had barely been a part of when it ended. 

“S’not how it worked honey. To be an architect, you had to get a bachelor’s degree and then a master’s degree too. That shit ain’t free and it surely wasn’t cheap either. Only people with money or enough brains to get a scholarship could go. Plus, I had Sarah. Harder to go once you have a family, all the money goes to your number one priority,” he explained. 

The thought of school being expensive, or costing anything frankly, was so bizarre to you. In the few QZs you had passed through with your mom, the schools were compulsory and nobody paid for it. Except maybe with their lives and service to FEDRA when they got old enough. And with Josiah’s community, you had learned to read and write under the watchful eye of Miriam. Nobody paid her to teach the kids the things she remembered from her time in the school system and nobody had to, she just did it because that was what the community needed. 

“Well that’s fucking stupid,” you scoffed. 

Joel laughed, “I agree.” 

“I wanted to be a doctor once. If I presented as a beta like I hoped I would, that’s what I was going to do. There was a doctor back home that said he’d teach me but that didn’t work out, I had to be a wife instead,” you admitted. 

He looked over, brushing his eyes over your figure before he squeezed your hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss. 

“You would’ve been good at it,” Joel said quietly. 

There was nothing to say to that. The would’ve, should’ve and could’ves of this world didn’t matter. All that mattered was the here and now. And your here and now wasn’t too bad, all things considered. It’s not that there weren't hard feelings when you thought of how you used to dream of being a healer, but having Joel certainly lessened the sting. 

That night, when you had finally convinced Joel to pull off the road before he swerved into a ditch, there was a lightness between the two of you. You even managed to lure Joel into the backseat with you under the guise of sharing warmth, the real reasoning behind your plea being to trick him into getting a few hours of sleep. 

Although Joel had waved off any accusation that he had been up all night, you knew deep down that he likely sat up until the sun was rising. The bags under his puffy eyes didn’t lie. After he had maneuvered his way into the one sleeping bag he could find before leaving, you had taken it upon yourself to reach up and swirl your fingers through his curls until you felt him drift off. 

Sitting up as much as you could, you eased the shotgun that he held like a lifeline against the canvas bag out of his hands. Joel’s brow furrowed for a moment and you stilled, watching as he fought against the heaviness of his eyelids before his features went slack again. Carefully, you grasped the cold metal with both hands and sat up against the locked door. Joel grunted, scooching closer while he dreamed and burrowing his face into your soft legs. You smiled down at him, brushing a few locks of hair from his forehead while he drifted deeper and deeper. 

Joel stayed asleep, completely unaware of your guardianship as he snuggled his face further into your lap, his nose practically shoved in between your thighs. After a few minutes, his arms came up and hugged your mid section until his face was completely buried. You suppressed a laugh, thinking about how even in sleep, Joel needed to be in between your thighs. Being completely trapped in place by his strong hold, you were forced to hold in bouts of laughter as his snores tickled your sensitive skin. It didn’t bother you, in fact it was a relief that Joel was finally getting some sleep despite the stressful circumstance. 

When the sun finally started peaking through the trees, pouring in through the windows and reflecting off of the snow so that you had to squint to keep watch of the treeline, Joel began to stir. You carded your fingers through his hair, trying to ease his transition into consciousness but it didn’t matter. Joel woke up with a start, dazed and frustrated as he tried to pinpoint his whereabouts. And the second it came back to him, he was pissed. 

“Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?,” he barked. 

Despite his rage, Joel was still careful not to jostle you too much as he ripped himself from your shared sleeping bag. The sudden loss of his body heat made you whine, with the cold rushing in to bite at your legs until he swiftly covered them back up with the thick fabric. It was a poor substitution for Joel, but you still appreciated his frustrated efforts to keep you warm. 

“Joel, you slept for like two hours before we left. And before that, you hadn’t slept in days. You can’t keep yourself safe, let alone me, if you don’t let yourself rest for a bit,” you chided, reaching forward to smush down some of his more unruly strands of hair. 

He grumbled a bit, bitterly fixing his rumpled clothing before he moved to exit the vehicle. Just as one of his hands gripped the door handle, you stopped him with a soft squeeze to the hand that was still wrapped around yours. He paused, seemingly unaware that he was still holding your hand until you squeezed his fist. 

“This way, you can be rested while you drive us and I’ll sleep on the way. That’s fair, isn’t it baby?,” you prodded, throwing in the pet name for good measure. 

Joel groaned dramatically, glaring at you without any real heat before he finally nodded and exited the vehicle. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t have to, you knew that he appreciated the rest. He was just too stubborn to admit it. Instead of admitting defeat, Joel threw himself into the front seat and snapped at you to go to sleep so that he could focus on the road. You nodded, biting your lip to keep in your giggles at his grumpy theatrics. He didn’t mean it, he was just upset that you went without sleep on account of him. 

If he was truly angry with you, Joel wouldn’t have had to bite the inside of his cheek to ward off a grin when you leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on the side of his face as he started the car. He gruffly waved you off, grumbling about you being a pain in the ass as you settled in for a nap in the back. Still, a few minutes later as you drifted into sleep, you caught his quiet admission of love before you conked out. 

There was hope when you fell asleep, hope that this trip to Jackson could be like a reset for the two of you. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as you had originally thought, maybe it could be fun. Half cocked daydreams about having a nice drive with the man you loved, followed by a happy reunion between brothers and easy first encounters with his family who were now technically yours as well, were dashed in the dying light of your second day on the road.

After a loud bang had woken you from the nap, the following clunking noise had pulled a groan from your mouth as you sat up. Joel cussed, veering to the side as the awful clunking slowly petered off until the engine stopped completely. Coasting to a stop amongst the snow, you both sat in silence for a moment before simultaneously exiting the warm embrace of the car. 

Smoke poured from beneath the hood, making Joel pinch the bridge of his nose before he even had a chance to lift it. Sighing to himself, you watched as he finally propped up the metal and tried to look through the black plumes that rose from the rusted organs of the car. He swore, waving some of the smoke away as he stared into the mess. 

“Fucking hell, looks like it’s the fuel injector,” he murmured to himself. 

You swore, “Do you have any brake cleaner? We could clean it with that.”

Joel raised his brow, turning to look at you with a questioning glance, to which you shrugged. 

“Rachel taught me some stuff about cars when we were on the road. Just some stuff about upkeep and a few quick driving lessons, nothing serious,” you said. 

He nodded, seemingly impressed by your admission as he turned back to the car. 

“Well, it’s a good idea darling but no we don’t. Wouldn’t matter anyway, I can’t get to it without taking off the manifold and a bunch of other shit. This thing is toast,” Joel sighed. 

You swore, swerving your head to take in the surrounding area. The sun sat low in the sky, threatening to disappear behind the trees as the day bled into night. With the trees that crowded the road and the layers of thick snow covering every step, the two of you were seemingly stranded. There was no way that you could stay here for the night, parked in the middle of the road while the darkness passed. The road was too dangerous, leaving you both open to anyone or anything that happened to wander by. 

“What are we going to do?,” you asked him. 

Joel stiffened and whipped his head around, scanning the area before coming to the same conclusion as you. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, all of his muscles suddenly taut beneath his many layers. Watching him tense up with the pressure, it was like yesterday had never happened. He looked like a caged animal as he began to pace around the car, mumbling to himself as he tore at his hair. 

“Joel.”

He didn’t answer. 

“Joel,” you said again with more insistence. 

Again, no answer came from Joel as he stomped through the snow around you. The sigh that came from your lips was long and drawn out, as you knew that there would be no calling him back from such a state. Joel’s emotions were like a hurricane sometimes, with the strong winds of his anguish constantly threatening to carry him away. Worse than that, he was often so focused on trying to survive the storm that he failed to notice any open shelter nearby. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized that he needed someone to yank him out of the chaos and into safety. 

After watching Joel’s aggravated circles around the car for a moment, you picked up on his patterns and stepped forward. Placing yourself in his way, you calmly waited until he stomped back around to the hood of the car and walked right into you. He stumbled back a bit, his eyes wide at your sudden intervention. Before he could shake it off and return to his plotting, you gripped the sides of his face. Leaning forward, you knocked your forehead against his and waited for him to settle. 

While all of the muscles in his upper body remained bunched together, you smiled when he finally calmed down enough to sigh. His breath was warm against your face, a stark contrast to the freezing wind that only worsened as the sun slinked away. The cold was a reminder of how truly fucked the two of you were, as well as how badly you needed him to keep a clear head. 

“What are you thinking right now baby? Talk to me,” you murmured. 

He let out a frustrated noise, something between a grunt and a whine, before he leaned back. You snatched his hands as he tried to walk off, unwilling to allow him to restart his manic circling until he acknowledged your words. Joel sighed again, more harshly this time but his feet never moved. Instead he stood still, chewing the inside of his cheek and squinting at his surroundings. It was as if he was trying to will some shelter into existence. 

“We can’t stay here, s’too open,” he said gruffly. 

You nodded, “I know but it’s going to be dark in an hour. If we don’t find some shelter, we’ll freeze to death.” 

“I know that,” Joel snapped. 

Raising both hands from his in mock defense, you mouthed an overly sassy, “okay, jeez,” before dropping them back down at your side. Joel’s gaze softened and you could tell he felt bad about the way he spoke to you, but he didn’t try to redeem himself. Instead he swallowed and ran his hands over his face, cursing to himself as he tried to smush the thoughts racing through his mind into a cohesive sentence for you. 

“I uh, I know where we are for the most part. Been up this way once or twice, although it was a long time ago. We got a couple options, though I’m not sure I like either of them too much,” Joel explained. 

You nodded as he grabbed your hands on his own this time, watching as he nervously rubbed over your knuckles with his thumb. Joel used your hands like a stress ball, squeezing and prodding at your digits in order to get the words out and you let him. It was better than watching him implode from the panic he felt. 

“First option is the safest but probably the most rough. A few clicks that way, there’s a whole bunch of caves. Montana is actually full of them. We could hunker down there until first light. It’d be cold but the likelihood of something finding us is low,” Joel explained. 

The grimace on your face was only there for a second, but you knew that Joel saw it. Although it may have been the safest option, the thought of shivering together against the hard ground of a cave as the wind whistled through the space was not attractive in the slightest. It was embarrassing to admit to even yourself, but in the past few months you had been spoiled. First by Joel’s soft sheets while he was stranded on the couch, then later by his warm body pressed up against yours as the two of you shared the space. The time apart from him had only made you crave the luxury of warmth and comfort even more. 

“Okay, well, the other option could be comfier but it won’t be safe. There’s a small town nearby with a few residential buildings here and there but I don’t really know what’s in ‘em. Only been through it once with Tess and that was damn near ten years ago,” he continued. 

Entering an unsweeped and unknown town could go a million different ways. There could be raiders, or worse; there could be infected waiting to rip your faces off. However, there was a small chance that the two of you could find refuge. Or at least, somewhere with walls strong enough to block out the harsh winds. And with the cold nipping at your nose and fingers, you decided that camping out in the snow would have to wait for another day. 

“Town?,” Joel sighed, the exasperation in his tone evident as he expertly guessed your pick. 

You nodded once, “Definitely town.” 

- Joel - 

There was a small part of Joel that wanted to grab your shoulders and shake some sense into you. He appreciated the way you managed to get under his skin, accepting that there was no hiding the reasons behind his constant brooding from you any longer. Nonetheless, the way you so carelessly moved through the world in times of crisis was grating on him. It wasn’t just that he was jealous, it was that he was genuinely convinced that the haphazard way you trapeze through life was bound to get you killed. 

Staying in the cave was what he would have chosen. The ground would be hard and as unforgiving as the icy winds that howled through the trees in the darkness of night, but you would be as safe as he could possibly ensure. He’s not even sure why he allowed himself to voice his thoughts, especially when he knew which choice you were likely to make. As the two of you crept through the silent streets towards the smattering of houses off of the I-15, he kicked himself for not choosing. You wouldn’t have known any better, but he had felt bad about lying to you again after already being caught lying about the intruders that almost shot him. 

Joel took the lead, deciding to venture further into the town rather than choose one of the houses on the outskirts. Despite the fact that there was a higher chance of infected being in the heart of the area, he knew that raiders were more likely to be hiding in the depths of the dilapidated homes near the edges. If he had to choose, he’d rather go up against the infected. At least with them he knew exactly what they wanted, humans were a bit more tricky and he wasn’t willing to leave anything up to chance with you at his side. 

The main strip wasn’t much to write home about, with just a one story museum that likely boasted the history of mining in the town and a small K-12 school that served the few kids that had resided there once upon a time. Coming to the center of the town, Joel halted in place, straining his good ear for any sign of life amidst the snow. He grunted when you bumped into his back, turning to raise an eyebrow at you in annoyance. Before you could respond, he watched as your sheepish expression turned fearful when a cry ripped through the stillness of the air. 

Joel whirled around, trying to pinpoint the shriek in the distance but coming up empty. Still, just because he couldn’t see it, didn’t mean that it couldn’t see him and he knew he needed to make a decision fast. Where there was one infected person, there was usually about a million more that were connected to the first and he needed to get you both hidden before they came. After looking around, his eyes landed on a small red brick building that served as the town library. The place wouldn’t have food or a bed, but it was because of that reason that the likelihood of it holding any stragglers or infected was slim. 

“Follow me, quietly,” Joel whispered, making sure to fully enunciate the last part. 

He knew that you had some experience with infected, the majority of it likely being on the trip to save him, but he wasn’t sure how well you would do with the weight of an entire diseased town bearing down on you. Joel could barely handle it, and he had been at it for years. Every time he managed to survive a horde, he knew that there was nothing to it but pure dumb luck. Luck that he wasn’t trying to press today. 

As swiftly as he could without alerting any encroaching predator, Joel jogged over to the entrance of the library with you hot on his heels. He tried the door once, then two more times, before sighing and looking around for another way in. There were windows that could be broken with a clenched fist, but he wasn’t keen on the noise it would make and wasn’t entirely sure either of you could fit through the frame. 

Suddenly, from the opposite side of town his ear picked up on the telltale sign of clickers. Joel’s heart clenched in his chest, the reality of the situation sinking in as he switched the safety off on his gun. Just as he turned to instruct you to follow him around back, he was shocked to see your legs hanging from a window that you must have pushed open while he was distracted. 

“What in the hell?!,” Joel whispered with urgency, watching as you tumbled in through the small opening. 

Your head popped out and he rushed towards you. The panic that plucked at his heart strings only grew worse as you failed to survey the room behind you and he tried uselessly to urge you to turn around. His hands were swatted away, which made him want to turn back and rip the front door off its hinges in order to get to you. 

“I’m going to go unlock it for you, stay here,” you whispered as you turned back towards the dark space. 

Joel grabbed your arm before you could move away, the fear he felt making it impossible for him to let you go. 

“Wait, no, you can’t just - what if there’s something in there?!,” Joel rushed out. 

You shrugged, shaking off his grasp with thinly veiled annoyance as you answered with a simple, “Christ Joel, then I’ll kill it.” 

And just like that you were gone, even shutting the window in his face for good measure. Joel balked at your attitude, feeling like the sky was falling as he tried to peer in through the dirty glass. There was nothing he could do out here. Even if he could push it back open, he was too wide for the window. He wasn’t even sure how you managed it, briefly worrying about how your hips were probably bruised from the squeeze. And the door was locked. That meant that Joel had no choice but to return to the front door to wait and hope that the clickers that stumbled their way out of whatever hiding place they were in would stay away. 

At first it was fine, Joel comforted himself in the knowledge that you were quick on your feet despite whatever physical advantage any adversary may have. However, as the seconds turned to minutes, he was becoming more and more panicked. What if there were infected in there? What if you had been torn to pieces? Or worse, what if another type of enemy was lurking within? Had they hurt you? Were you crying out for him despite the fact that he couldn’t hear? Joel was sprinting around the building in search of another door before he had even finished that last thought. 

Rounding the back of the building, Joel gulped as he saw footprints embedded in the snow. They were uniform and direct, not the clumsy and aimless footprints of an infected person. Seeing the prints, Joel rushed forward and nearly ripped the door off of its hinges trying to pry it open. He didn’t care about the loud snap from the sheet of ice that covered the door splintering beneath his hands, or the way the hinges screamed at him in protest, none of that mattered to him at all. His entire focus was on getting to you. 

The air was stale when he rushed into the space, the smell of moldy books making his nose wrinkle as he stepped into the back room. Moving through the hall, he halted in his tracks when he saw the discarded supplies of strangers piled along the wall of the break room. Cussing to himself for waiting for so long, Joel picked up his pace and ran into the main room. 

It was there that Joel saw something he hoped to never see. A woman was bleeding on the ground, with a knife lodged between her ribs as she choked on her own blood. Meanwhile, another man was long since dead near the entrance way, his throat likely having been slit when you tried to open the door for him. 

In the center of the room was you, with your toes barely touching the ground as an alpha had you pinned against one of the bookshelves. He couldn’t help but catch the way your eyes bulged, nails uselessly scrubbing at his face and neck in an attempt to get the man to let you down. Joel’s vision became narrow at the sight and he lunged at the man, knocking the both of you over in the process. 

While you rolled away, coughing and wheezing in mouthfuls of the musty air, Joel placed himself on top of the man’s chest. His fists came down in a flurry of rage, the solid weight of his entire being coming down hard against his face. The anger he felt towards this man blocked out the rest of the world, making him fixate on destroying the only remaining threat towards his mate. 

This wasn’t just about this particular group of strangers who tried to harm you for Joel, it was about every individual who had thought to harm you while he was taken, as well as anyone who had harmed you before. He had felt helpless for years now, and it had worsened to a certain extent upon meeting you. The realization that Joel could not protect you from everything after being taken, that he was just a man in a broken world that refused to give anyone a break, was a hard pill to swallow. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in bubble wrap and keep you hidden on a shelf somewhere, but he knew that was ridiculous. You would never let him coddle you like that. 

Thoughts of all of those that have ever and would ever try to wrong you whirled in his brain as he beat the man’s face into the ground. Blood spattered against his face and soaked his hands, but he barely felt it. His slowly healing knuckles cracked open as he broke all of the bones in the man’s face, his own blood mixing with that of his victim’s. Joel was so wrapped up in his own fears and rage that he didn’t notice the way his fists were now connecting with the hardwood, his punches having completely pulverized what had long since been a corpse. Nothing but a pulpy mess remained, yet it was only when he felt cold fingers touch the side of his face that he paused his assault. 

“Baby, baby, look at me. Hey, it’s okay. You can stop now, he’s gone, okay? We’re safe Joel, I’m safe,” you soothed while your shaky hands uselessly tried to wipe the blood from his face.  

Joel blinked and looked down, feeling his stomach clench at the mess he had made. He didn’t feel bad about killing the bastard, in fact he would gladly do it again in a variety of different ways. However, as he looked back up at your concerned face, he did feel a little remorse at unleashing all of that darkness in front of you. Almost mechanically, Joel stood from the corpse and turned towards your shaking frame. 

He knew you were talking but he couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears, his heart still thumping painfully against his ribcage. The need to flee was strong but he had no idea where to go. With the infected likely stumbling out in the streets and the sun now absent from the sky, it seemed that the two of you were stuck in here with the slowly rotting bodies. At least with the frigid air, their bodies were unlikely to start smelling until spring. 

“Joel!,” you exclaimed, slapping at his chest until he finally stopped looking through you. 

“M’gonna go check the doors and windows, make sure none of them get in here,” he murmured. 

Pushing past you, Joel hurriedly stepped back into the hall and peeped his head out of the backdoor. Just as he thought, he could hear low moans and grunts from somewhere nearby but his eyes were too weak to make out exactly where they were coming from. As carefully as he could, he pulled the door shut and latched it. With his breath held tight in his chest, Joel waited for any sign that they had heard the groan of the rusted hinges but none came. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

What a goddamn mess, he thought to himself. 

Despite the fact that the threat was gone, his brain hadn’t given his body the memo yet. He felt like a wild animal that had been placed in a zoo, poked and prodded at until it went feral and ripped open the first poor soul to let it out. Energy coursed through his veins, making all the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up and his muscles tense in preparation for an attack. 

When he finally turned around and bumped into you, it took everything in him not to pounce. The only thing that stopped his adrenaline fueled mind was your scent, with the soft tendrils of your aroma slightly easing the storm that raged within. Joel breathed it in deeply, trying to stop himself from reacting negatively to your gentle touch as your hands found their way to his heaving chest. 

“All of the doors and windows out front are secure. I could see some infected out in the street but whatever noise we made, they haven’t been able to pinpoint it yet. If we stick back here and try not to make too much noise, we should be okay,” you said. 

He nodded and tried to push past you. His brain was unwilling to accept the fact that you had already checked the front half of the library correctly but again, you stopped him. Joel huffed, looking down at you with frustrated scowl. He chewed on the inside of his cheek until blood dripped onto his tongue, channeling all of his pent up fear into the small act of self mutilation. The taste of the coppery liquid was bitter but he swallowed it all down and continued to chew, the pain being one of the only things keeping him grounded. 

“What are you going to do Joel? The place is as safe as it could be, everyone that was in here is dead thanks to BOTH of us. There’s no more fire to run off and douse, we’re okay. It’s just us in here,” you said with a bit more conviction. 

Suddenly, Joel’s anger shifted its focus, pinpointing you as a major reason for the reason he felt it. If you had simply waited for him, if you had listened for once in your life, perhaps there wouldn’t be angry red marks wrapped around your barely healed throat. Joel could have come with you through the back door, the both of you taking the group of alphas out together. But no, you had to go at it alone, leaving him freezing and worried out in the snow. If he hadn’t come in when he did… Well, he didn’t want to think about it. 

Gripping your arm, Joel stomped into the break room where he had seen the supplies and shut the door behind him. Heaving in deep breaths through his nose, his nostrils flared as he released you and ripped off his gear, all the while trying his best to ignore the way you stared at him. The look on your face was full of worry and confusion, which made him even angrier. 

Once his gear was off, he focused on making a nice bed for you on the ratty old couch. Gathering up the sleeping bag and the few throw blankets that were scattered around the room, he tried his best to make the makeshift bed comfortable despite how pissed he was. When he was done, Joel gestured to it angrily before stomping over to chair by the only window to keep guard for the night. 

You sighed loudly, irking him as you started with a high pitched, “Jooooel.” 

“Don’t,” Joel snapped, already fuming at whatever it was that you were gearing up to say. 

The sound of you dropping your supplies tricked him into thinking that you were actually going to go to sleep and he relaxed in his seat. However, Joel kicked himself for truly believing you might leave it when he heard your hesitant footsteps come towards him. He turned his head, his gaze daring you to step any further past the invisible boundary he had placed between you. Perhaps sensing his limits, you stayed a few feet away from him. 

“Joel, please just talk to me. I can’t sleep if you - if we - fuck, just say something to me please,” you tried. 

In the blink of an eye, Joel was up out of the chair. Walking over to you in two long strides, he towered over you in the stillness of the room. He picked up on the way your breathing picked up, watching how your chest quickly moved up and down for a moment before his eyes snapped back up to meet yours. Normally, Joel would step back and allow you some space to breathe, but he didn’t this time. This time he was livid. This time, he couldn’t hold back. 

“Now you want to talk? Fine sweetheart, let’s talk. You went in here without me. You left me out there, worried and alone, without a second fucking thought.,” Joel seethed. 

Joel watched as your mouth fell open, surprised at the harshness of his tone. There had only been a few moments where he had spoken to you in a tone like this, brief flashes of the venomous man he was in the time between losing Sarah and meeting Ellie, but he usually managed to reign it in. But he wasn’t going to let you off so easily this time, he couldn’t. Not when you seemed devoted to getting yourself killed on a daily basis. 

“I have been trying so fucking hard to stay alive, just so that I can keep YOUR ass alive, but you don’t even care, do you? No, you just go through life without a care in the world. You don’t even think for a goddamn second how it might affect me,” he snapped. 

The laughter that left your mouth pissed him off even more and he couldn’t help the withering look he sent your way. Sure, he had a few moments of weakness when it came to persevering through the pain in the recent past when he was imprisoned but that was different. There was only so much torture the body and mind could endure before it considered giving in. You however, seemed completely comfortable walking into the line of fire at the drop of a hat. At the slightest invitation, you would place yourself in danger and it made him want to scream. 

“Is that what you think?,” you asked incredulously. 

Joel stepped even further into your personal space, crowding you as he spat, “That’s what I fucking know.” 

The scowl you sent his way was bitter, filled with resentment at the accusation, but again Joel was unmoved. 

“For once, could you just entertain the possibility that I might be just as capable as you? Hm? That maybe I could be an ally rather than someone you need to protect? Just because I’m an omega, doesn’t mean I’m some damsel in distress!,” you shot back. 

Joel balked, “I don’t remember ever once saying that I thought you were a damsel. We are fucking mates, partners for Christ’s sake! That means we do stuff TOGETHER, we decide things TOGETHER, but you didn’t wait for me. You decided to go off by yourself and completely disregarded me. That’s not fair.” 

No response came from you, so Joel soldiered on, stepping even further into your space so that the two of you were practically nose to nose. His heart drummed wildly in his chest, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins as your face came closer to his. At this level, Joel could feel each puff of air that came from your mouth. Short little breaths washed over his face, warming his cold lips as they hovered inches from yours. 

“Do not ask me to stand back so that you can get yourself killed. If you want me to take you seriously, fine, start acting like my partner then. Wait for me to come with you for fuck’s sake and if I say something looks sketchy, maybe fucking listen for once,” he hissed.  

You blinked, “Joel, I -”

He shook his head and you stopped. 

“I know that I’ve kept you in the dark before, when I thought it was for your own good, but we talked about this! I promised and you promised not to lie to eachother, to fucking stay alive for each other. And you turn around and do this? You could’ve died!,” Joel exclaimed. 

He wasn’t sure how it happened or who acted first but with the adrenaline and emotions running high, your mouths were suddenly tangled in one another. The kiss was a brutal clash of tongues and teeth, with both of you channeling all of your frustrations and fears into each touch. He felt your fingers dig painfully into his scalp, tearing at the strands animalistically, and he moaned at the sharp sting. Before the kiss could get too heated, Joel pulled away. 

“Joooooel,” you whined at his sudden absence. 

He smirked at your desperation, another type of urgency taking over his previous emotions. If this was what he needed to get through to you, so be it. 

“No. You want to make this right? On your knees for me baby,” Joel commanded. 

There was a pause, your mouth popping open almost cartoonishly before you hastened to heed his request. The anger in the room shifted, turning into an intoxicating mix of lust and devotion. Joel needed control and you needed the connection in any way that he could give it. 

After your first time together, he had been hesitant about showing this side of himself. The last thing he wanted to do is scare you off, especially when you were just beginning to explore the more pleasurable aspects of life. However during your heat, when you had refused to let him touch you and subsequently fucked the shit out of him on the couch after finding him out in the storm, Joel knew that he was in the clear to delve a little deeper. 

After he made quick work of his belt and zipper, Joel didn’t miss the little bit of drool that peeked out of the side of your mouth at the sight of his quickly hardening cock and it made him grin. Leaning forward, he pinched your chin between his fingers. Popping your jaw open, Joel gathered all of the moisture in his mouth and spat into yours. Watching you swallow without him having to ask awakened something dark inside of him and he felt his cock jump between his legs. 

“Be a good girl for me and suck this cock like I know you want to, then maybe I’ll think about letting you cum,” he said. 

Joel swore he died and went to heaven when your tongue lolled out of your mouth in lieu of a response. He cursed the outbreak during moments like these. It felt like he was constantly wishing he could have something to take pictures of you like this, so willing to let him use you however he saw fit. Call him old fashioned, but he was not above the allure of having a polaroid of his girl spread out for him in his back pocket. Something about it stirred up all the possessive thoughts he had about you that he tried to keep locked away inside of him. 

“Fuuuuuck me,” Joel groaned, having to work hard to shake himself out of his own imagination, “If you want me to stop, tap my thigh three times. Okay?”

You nodded dutifully at his words and moved your open mouth towards his throbbing length. As much as Joel wanted to feel you, he pulled you back by the hair. When you whined petulantly at his denial, he softly slapped your cheek in warning and chuckled at the way he noticed your thighs clench together.

“Nuh uh, I need you to use your words darling. What are you going to do if you want daddy to stop?” he chided. 

“I’m going to tap your thigh if I want you to stop shoving your big fat cock down my throat,” you answered, batting your eyelashes at him. 

You really were going to kill him with all the dirty shit you said to him someday. 

Joel gave you a devilish grin, “That’s my girl.” 

After he loosened the grip he had on your bunched up hair, he grunted as he felt your warm mouth envelope the tip of his dick. Your movements were slightly awkward and inexperienced but his eyes still rolled into the back of his head as you started giving hot wet kisses up and down the sides of him. Joel’s breath hitched, precum already dripping down his length as you slobbered all over it. 

“Use your hand for what you can’t fit in your - shit fuck - that’s it honey,” Joel hissed through gritted teeth. 

With your hand added into the mix, soft fingers smearing precum and spit to ease the glide, he was on cloud nine. Each groan he released seemed to boost your confidence and Joel almost fell forward when he felt you take half of his length down your throat. 

“Christ darling, yeah that’s it. Such a good girl taking me like that. You like it don’t you? Bet that little pussy is soaking wet just from sucking my cock,” he moaned. 

The answering whine that sent vibrations down his cock caused Joel to buck his hips into your open mouth, forcing you to gag on it. The feeling of your throat contract around his length made him pant and he tried hard to force his hips to stay put. He cussed at his lack of self control when you backed off and coughed at the intrusion, eyes watering as you sucked in deep breaths. With shaky hands, Joel anxiously reached forward and wiped the dribbles of his precum from your chin. 

“You okay baby?,” Joel panted.

You nodded and smiled coyly, collecting yourself enough to bat your eyes at him while you grabbed his cock. Joel hissed as you restarted your strokes at an unforgiving pace. He wanted to make you voice your affirmation again, to ensure that you were really okay with giving him this type of pleasure, but it was hard to do so when you were licking a hot trail up the side of his length. Joel grunted when your tongue ended its slow journey with a mind breaking flick around his reddened tip, his toes curling in his shoes to fend off the release that was threatening to end him. And when you reached down between his legs to cup his balls, all of the muscles in his stomach clenched. 

“Ooooh shit, sweet girl, my girl, fuck. So good for me, just put your mouth b- ah!”

Once more, he couldn’t even get the request out before you had already swallowed him down. This time you managed to go further, pausing to take deep breaths in through your nose with each inch until his cock was completely buried deep within your throat. He huffed out a strained breath, trying his best to keep himself from losing it. Aside from gathering your hair in his hands to keep it out of your face, Joel remained completely still but it was nearly impossible. 

Joel didn’t want to push you too hard and he was worried that if moved, there would be no stopping his hip’s desire to piston away at your throat. Fears about coming on too strong swirled in his brain, especially as he gazed upon some of the faded bruises that others had left in the days prior. Hurting or scaring you was not and would never be on the agenda for Joel. However, as if you sensed his hesitation, you quickly pulled off and looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“Please fuck my throat daddy,” you said, with your voice already gravelly from taking him so far. 

“Shit baby, are you sure? You don’t have to - god, fuck - don’t have to do that. Feels good either way,” he managed to get out, finding it hard to focus with the way your hands continued to milk his cock and balls. 

You nodded, “Yes please, I want it so bad.” 

He groaned and nodded, using the hair in his fist to pull your face closer to him. A hiss came from his lips when you opened your throat for him, the warm and wet cavern driving him absolutely insane. Tingles of pleasure spread out from his cock, making him sweat as he watched you take him deeper and deeper. Joel started off slow, thrusting in and out gently until he was sure you could take it. The second he heard you begin to moan around him, he picked up the pace more and more until he was roughly fucking your face. 

Drool dripped down the sides of your mouth, creating a mess on his thighs and the floor below. The room was filled with a cacophony of gags and moans, the sound of his balls smacking against your chin making him harden even more. Joel felt drunk on all of it and when he looked down to see you furiously rubbing your clit while his dick rammed deep into your mouth, he knew he was close to cumming. 

“M’gonna cum baby, fuck. Stop honey, you’re gonna make me cum,” he wheezed. 

Joel slapped a hand over his mouth as you increased your efforts. With you swallowing around his length and rolling his heavy sack in your hand, he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep himself from alerting any unwanted guests outside. This was not what he bargained for. When this had started, Joel was in complete control. He had been the one calling the shots, but the second your mouth had enveloped him, the tables were turned. You held all the cards now. 

All it took was a garbled plea for him to cum from you, the vibrations of it making all of the muscles in his body tense, before he exploded. The barrier of his own hand over his mouth was much too weak and he soon felt the soaked hand that was buried between your thighs prying it off to shove your fingers into his mouth. Joel moaned at the taste, dutifully sucking the sweet slick from between your digits as his cock spurted rope after rope of seed down your throat. Your mouth stayed suctioned onto him until he finally reached the point of overstimulation and whined as he yanked your head back. 

Joel was practically swaying on his feet when his cock fell from your mouth. He couldn’t help the groan he let out as he watched you pick up all of the cum that managed to seep from the corners of your mouth and show it to him, smiling as you sucked it off of your fingers. Despite the fact that he had just had his soul sucked clean out of him, Joel’s cock still twitched at the display. The more cum you shoved into your mouth, humming at the taste as he stared down at you, the more he needed to wreck you. 

“Shit baby, you’re filthy,” he sighed dreamily. 

“Am I forgiven daddy?,” you giggled. 

He chuckled, “Fuck yeah honey. Such a good girl, fucking perfect for me.” 

The soft smile you gave him warmed his heart and he answered it by leaning down to pick you up. The moment you were up on your feet, Joel was capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He moaned at the taste of his own release on your tongue, deepening it until you whimpered in desperation. The smell of your arousal was delicious, making his mouth water and his cock harden again already as he yanked off his clothes. 

“Clothes off and then lay on the couch, right now. Need to taste that sweet pussy honey,” he said through feverish kisses, feeling absolutely ravenous for the taste of you.  

When you turned to hurry over to the couch, Joel surprised you with a soft slap to your ass and you jumped. He chuckled softly, playfully raising an eyebrow at you when you turned to scold him. The color in your cheeks darkened at his naked form and you made quick work of your clothes. Once you were fully naked, he grinned as you laid back against the couch, leaving your legs wide open for him to gawk at your weeping slit. 

“Fuuck darling, look at that. She’s so fucking wet for me. Just aching to be filled up, huh?  Do ya think she deserves it?,” he teased. 

The whine you let out was urgent, making him smirk as he kneeled on the hard floors to ghost his breaths over your cunt. The teasing only made you wetter and he watched as more slick was pushed from your winking hole. 

“Yes! Please Joel, daddy, fuck! I need it, need you to touch me. I’ve been good, I’ll be so good,” you cried. 

Joel began a cruel line of kisses up and down the inside of your thighs as you begged. He stopped just before where you wanted him most, restarting on the other side over and over until you squirmed in frustration. 

“That so?,” Joel asked into the soft patch of curls on your mound, breathing in lungfuls of your scent until his cock was completely hard again. 

You nodded, looking down at him with tears in your eyes as you tried to subtly shift closer to his face. Joel laughed at that, easily holding your hips against the cushion with one hand. 

“Are we going to be a team from now on or not? Can’t be running off on me no more, m’kay?,” he asked in a slightly deprecating, yet sweet and syrupy tone. 

“We’re a - fuck,” you stopped for a moment when he pried your pussy lips open with his fingers, exposing your throbbing clit to the open air. Joel waited for you to respond, chuckling as your holes twitched each time his breaths blew air across the sensitive nub. It took a few tries but you finally managed to spit out a response. 

“We’re a team. I-I won’t run off - shit - as long as you don’t either. No m-more lies or running away, we’re - ha - we’re partners,” you spat out through labored breaths. 

Warmth filled his chest at your words, all of the previous anger melting away at your agreement. The two of you were a team, meaning that there would be no more leaving each other without a second thought and no more fibs on the guise of softening the blow. Joel knew that you were not the only or even the main perpetrator in this slight, he had a lot he needed to work on too, but this moment felt like you were both finally understanding each other. In the soft glow of the moonlight, with blood speckled across both of your naked bodies and the corpses of victims only one room away, there was no hiding from one another. The two of you were the same, equals in every sense of the word. 

“M’not going anywhere darling, not ever,” he promised. 

The pleasure filled sigh that you released when his mouth finally connected to your soaked core was divine and he wasted no time worshiping it, dying to hear it again and again. Joel started off soft, circling your clit with his tongue until your fingers latched on to his hair and pulled hard. To ease the growing need, he slipped two fingers inside and rubbed at that one spot along your front wall that made your legs shake. Slick gushed from your core, making him moan as he sucked your clit into his mouth. With your pulsing nub between his lips, sucking on it hard until your hips bucked up against his face. In response to your growing need, he slammed his fingers into you faster. 

“J-Joel, yes! Please, please, please let me cum. Wanna cum for you daddy, love you so much,” you begged him desperately. 

He chuckled, releasing your clit for just a second to mumble a muffled, “Cum for me baby,” into your folds before he leaned back in and sucked the throbbing nub between his lips again.  

That, mixed with the feeling of a third finger suddenly pressing into that one devastating spot that Joel was proud to say only he could reach, had you flying off the edge. With your walls contracting around his digits and your pussy gushing down his wrist, Joel lapped up every bit of slick that he could as you rode out your high. It was only when you whined, weakly pushing his head away as it became too much, that he finally stopped. 

“Fucking hell Joel, you’re incredible,” you chuckled breathlessly. 

He laughed alongside you, his cheeks growing warm at the praise. Joel knew he was skilled in the art of sex. He certainly had enough experience by now to have heard a few good reviews from satisfied partners but pleasing you, pleasing his mate, was different. Before it was just about getting his partner off so that he could follow, with him never wanting to be the asshole that didn’t make his partner cum. But now, Joel could care less about his own pleasure. All he wanted was to be the only one that you ever let make you feel this good. He wanted to devour every inch of you, even if it was in the break room of some rotting library. 

“Back at ya honey,” Joel murmured, kissing his way back up your body. 

When he reached your mouth, Joel’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed into the soft kiss. His lips covered yours, his heart skipping a beat when you returned it. Sex with you was amazing. Everytime he was left wishing he could fuck you again, but kissing you was something else. He could spend the rest of his life wrapped up in you like this, pressing his mouth against yours until you finally got sick of him. For someone as emotionally constipated as Joel, it was addicting to be able to pour all of the sweet admissions of love that he didn’t know how to say into an act of physical intimacy. That was why when you suddenly pulled back, he couldn’t help the whine he let out. 

“I love you Joel,” you sighed, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. 

Joel hummed, pressing his face into your grasp, “Love you too.” 

He felt drunk off of you. The smell of you, the way you looked splayed out on the couch underneath of him, the feeling of your thumbs rubbing over his cheeks, all of it was too perfect for him. You were too perfect for him. 

“Please fuck me daddy, I want to feel you inside,” you pleaded. 

Joel looked at you through hooded eyelids, nothing but pure adoration on his face. Adoration that was swiftly mirrored by you. Nothing else mattered, just the feeling of being connected in the most intimate of ways. 

“Okay honey, I gotcha,” he answered, moving to wrap your thighs around his waist. 

The groans the both of you let out when he finally pressed inside were muffled, the sounds poured into eachothers mouths rather than out into the open. As he slid in deeper and deeper, Joel found himself trying to focus on anything except you to keep himself from cumming. With your ankles locked around him, heels digging into his back to push him further inside, he bit painfully hard at his mangled cheek to hold it in. The feeling of your hands in his hair, pulling on his curls as you sucked at the sensitive mark on his neck, was enough to make any man explode.

“Shit honey, I can’t - fuck - m’not gonna last long,” Joel groaned into your ear, feeling a bit embarrassed at the truth in his admission. 

“Me neither. Please, just move. Need you,” you moaned. 

With that, he started thrusting. His pace was slow but hard, each snap of his hips hitting that one spot that sent sharp tingles of aching pleasure through your core. The curls at the base of his cock worked in his favor, rubbing against your swollen clit until you were babbling nonsense at him. Joel grunted, sweating as his cock throbbed painfully hard against your tightening walls. 

Joel was so close to making you cum. He felt it in the way your walls twitched, readying to milk his cock dry when you finally came around him. However, the need to cum was becoming too much for him. As he watched you writhe and moan beneath him, all while holding him close and panting against his heated skin, Joel had to make a quick decision to ensure you finished before he did. Sucking his thumb into his mouth, he laved his tongue over the digit until it was soaked. He hadn’t tried this with you yet, but something inside of him told Joel that it would work. 

“Just relax for me babygirl, you’ll like this,” he promised. 

Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel pressed his wet thumb against your asshole. Playing with the sensitive ring of muscle for a moment, he grinned wickedly when you keened and clenched around him. When he heard no objection to his intrusion, he decided to push a little more. 

“Fuck, that’s it. Let me fill you up even more sweetheart. Gonna have both holes stretched out for daddy before long,” Joel said huskily. 

With that, Joel pushed the tip of his thumb into your tight ass. He pressed his mouth against yours, muffling your loud cry with a filthy kiss as he continued to thrust his hips up into your sopping cunt. The slick that poured from your pussy dripped down onto his hand and he used that extra bit of lubrication to shove the rest of his digit inside. Joel groaned when he felt your walls tense up even more than before, your body convulsing wildly he swirled his thumb around the inside of your tight hole. 

“Fuuuuck, thank you, thank you, thank you,” you chanted against his lips as you finally let go. 

Joel held off as long as he could, trying to keep his pace the same while you came, but the feeling of your pussy sucking him in was staggering. When your cunt finally gave him one last weak squeeze, he grunted, thrusting up hard twice before he shoved the entirety of his knot inside. His cum poured inside of you in hot torrents, painting your walls until he could feel your tummy bulge with it beneath him. 

That in itself was enough to have him biting down on your neck and releasing painfully hard again. There was something about filling you up that shut off any higher thinking in his brain, triggering the more primal part of his brain and forcing him to ground down harder against you until he was certain you could take no more. All so that he could ensure that he could mark you from within, making everyone else know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were his. 

By the time the last wave finally ebbed away, Joel was boneless on top of you. It didn’t matter to him that his knees ached against the hardwood floors or that he needed to go check the entrance ways for any sign of intrusion, not when you were rubbing his head so softly and cooing sweet words in his good ear while he came down from his high. In the past, he would’ve scoffed at this type of softness. Now, he reveled in it. 

“- so good at taking care of me. Never had someone love me like you do baby,” was all he managed to catch from the plethora of soft words that were being poured into his ear and it made him groan. 

“Fuuuck,” Joel sighed, completely blissed out from your words and touch, “Are you going for the gold or something?” 

You laughed, “Are you saying that my performance was not already at the gold standard?” 

Joel pulled his face out of the crook of your neck, spotting the lazy grin you had on and he matched it. 

“Nah honey, you’re way better than gold. A multi platinum pro, if you will,” he teased.  

You both chuckled at the corny joke. In this moment, with you smiling in his arms and the promise of a partnership, Joel felt stronger than he had in ages. The road to Jackson was going to be tough and who knew what, or who, stood in the way of safety but he knew he could handle it. Scratch that, the two of you TOGETHER could handle it. 

“We’ve got this baby,” Joel declared with real certainty.

You smiled, “Yeah, we do.” 

- You - 

That night Joel took the first shift keeping watch, retreating back to the chair by the window on the promise that he would wake you for a turn before sunrise. And to your surprise, he actually heeded your request. Watching him settle into the warm cocoon you had made on the couch and drift into a light sleep, you smiled to yourself before slipping out into the hall. Joel probably wasn’t going to be drifting off into the deepest of sleeps, but with your scent permeating the sheets and the warmth of your body left behind, you hoped he would at least be able to doze for a couple hours. 

The back door remained locked shut, along with the front entrance way that was partially blocked by one of the men you had slain. Walking through the main space, you didn’t care to glance at their frozen faces. There was no point in it, not when you couldn’t truly feel guilty for their deaths. 

The one by the door had grabbed when you reached up to unlatch the door for Joel, whispering threats in your ear until you turned and stabbed him. The woman had launched at you after that, leading to a small scuffle that led to her choking on her own blood on the floor. It was the man that had truly caught you off guard. He had hidden amongst the shelves, waiting for you to turn back towards the door before he pounced. After another scuffle that led to you being lifted by the neck, Joel had walked in. 

With Joel having fucked out any residual adrenaline or anger you may have had towards these people, there was no emotional response as you passed through the carnage. All you could think about was the man that was asleep in the other room. His southern drawl in your ear, the warmth of his body against yours, the way his eyes followed your every move. All of it swirled through your mind and you found it extremely hard not to run back into the break room to pounce on him, grinding down on him until he woke up and fucked you again. 

But you couldn’t do that yet. Joel needed to rest and you needed to ensure that nothing disturbed it. That was what kept you pacing around the building, peering out the windows as the night slowly turned to the beginnings of morning. When the sun had barely begun to illuminate the world, you finally saw it. At first you thought it was a hallucination, something your desperate mind dreamt up in the face of being trapped in this god forsaken town, but you soon realized it was real. 

With your heart thumping painfully hard, you turned towards the first body and began to rummage through their pockets. Cursing to yourself as you worked, it wasn’t until you got to the pockets of the deceased woman that you felt the cold metal. There, in the pocket of her oversized work jacket, was the keys to the chevy that was parked a few lots over. The street had been crawling with quite a few infected but if you and Joel could get to it, there was another vehicle that could possibly aid in your escape. Deciding that Joel had had enough rest upon your find, you marched into the back room to wake him. 

He was laid out exactly how you had left him, with his face buried into the discarded sweater you had graced him with when he tried to get you to lay down with him. You knew if you had, the both of you would’ve been asleep in seconds, leaving you open to any and all threats. Joel knew that too, but he still looked so sad as you weasled your way out from his grasp. The sweater was a poor substitute for your body, but it seemed to do the trick. 

The snores he let out were muffled into the fabric and you cracked a grin at the way his face twitched, mumbling incoherent responses to someone as he dreamt. With his shirt ridden up, exposing his soft tummy to your greedy eyes and the way he hugged the sweater so tightly to his chest, you had no choice but to walk to the couch and bend over to give him a kiss. 

Joel hummed in his sleep, his arms shooting out in search of you before they pulled you into his lap. As you fell forward, he turned onto his back, taking the brunt of your weight with a smile when you landed. He chuckled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you righted yourself on top of him. 

“Morning gorgeous,” he yawned, still blinking heavily as you combed through his curls with your fingers. 

You smiled, “Morning handsome, I have a gift for you.” 

“A gift?,” he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.  

The moment you had flashed Joel the keys, he was completely awake. You had barely been able to get the explanation out before he was up and dressed. Excitement filled you as you trailed behind him, smiling big as you pointed out the seemingly perfect getaway to him a few buildings away. However, upon looking outside, he didn’t seem to share your enthusiasm. 

“Fucking hell, look at them all,” he sighed angrily, gesturing towards the growing group of infected that stumbled around outside. 

You were undeterred. Looking out that window, Joel saw nothing more than all the ways the two of you could be ripped to pieces. Meanwhile, you had a plan. 

“Yeah, but what if they were busy?,” you offered. 

Joel turned to you, his eyes narrowed as he analyzed your words. A frown formed on his face and you tried to keep your face schooled. 

“What do you mean by busy?,” he asked suspiciously. 

There was a solid chance that Joel would refuse to even consider your request, but you knew it was worth a shot. With the promise in mind, you decided it was best to try and talk him through this rather than assume anything. He deserved that. 

“Let me distract them. NO!,” you implored, gripping his arm so that he couldn’t walk away, “Just listen to me for a second Joel.” 

Joel looked down at your hand, the war being waged in his mind playing out on his face for you. First it was outright refusal, the rage at just the insinuation of letting you do something like that as clear as day. Then he softened, likely remembering the oath he had made to you just hours before. After which came the outright annoyance that he was bound to listen. It took everything in you not to laugh at it, especially when you knew that your plan was probably the only viable option. Plus, if the tables were turned, you would hate it as much as he did. 

“Look, if we can get them to fuck off, then we get the truck. Think about how easy it would be to get to Jackson with that thing! We could get there in a few days. I go out and make some noise, try to get them to follow me. Meanwhile, you go and get it started,” you explained. 

Joel scoffed, “And then what?”

“And then, I double back and hop in. You press the gas and BOOM! We’re out of here.” 

He laughed, real peals of laughter that slapped you right in the face. You knew the plan obviously had its downfalls, the first one being the possibility of being killed, but the reward was clearly necessary. With the amount of clickers and runners that were shambling around outside, there really was no other way. The likelihood of outrunning a horde this large was slim to none. And even if the two of you managed to get away, who's to say the elements or another horde or raiders wouldn’t come by to strike you down. This was the only way. 

“Joel, stop laughing at me. I’m serious!,” you snapped, trying to keep yourself from sounding childish. 

Joel wiped the tears from his eyes, catching his breath for a moment before he looked at you head on. The expression he had on was a tad condescending and suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to turn and walk out the door. Proving him wrong would certainly wipe that smug look off his face, but you refrained. If Joel and you had any chance of surviving, or even having a stable relationship in such a fucked up world, you needed to stay calm and listen to eachother. 

“Do you have any idea what you are saying right now? Those fuckers will tear your ass apart if they catch you. Do you really think you could outrun them?” 

You scoffed, “Yeah, I fucking know that I could. I led a horde through miles of goddamn forest just to drop them off at Paul’s doorstep like two weeks ago. I know what the fuck I’m talking about.” 

His face grew somber, with the reminder of your efforts acting as a jolt to his system. As Joel chewed on the inside of his cheek, you moved closer and grabbed his face. He looked wary as you rubbed the stubble on his cheeks with your thumbs, but he didn’t move to stop you. 

“We don’t have enough ammo to shoot them all and trying to outrun them on foot would be pointless. I’m faster than you old man, let me do this,” you begged him. 

Joel clicked his tongue in annoyance at your choice of words, “Are you really pulling the old card with me right now? You know that I am perfectly capable of-”

“-You are perfectly capable of protecting me,” you cut in, “Yes, I know that. You’re so strong baby, but not fast. I’m faster than you, that’s just a fact. If there’s someone who could outrun them out of the two of us, who do you think that person would be?” 

When he didn’t answer, mulling over your words hard as you continued to caress his face, you kept going. 

“And plus, I only started driving without someone’s help a couple of weeks ago. What if it’s standard? I wouldn’t know what the fuck to do. This is the smartest option Joel, even if it fucking sucks,” you said. 

Although you could tell he wanted to deny you again, to dream up some full proof plan that would lead to you never being in any danger, Joel knew it was the only plan that had a chance of working. In the long run, this truck could save your lives. To leave without it was just plain stupid, almost as stupid as going after it in the first place. He ran his hands through his hair, groaning with the stress that was likely raging through his body and you cooed. 

“Talk to me,” you murmured, grabbing his hands before he ripped out the curls you held so dear to your heart. 

Joel squeezed your hands, his eyes fluttering closed as you breathed in and out a few times together. You waited in silence, letting him have a moment to compose himself before you prodded him again. To your surprise, when his eyes finally opened he was calm and collected, the picture of a man ready to walk into the line of fire. The air around Joel changed when he got like this, with him seeming to grow even larger than he was already as a darkness raged within his eyes. It made tingles shoot down to your core to see him so sure of himself, but you ignored them. Now was not the time. 

“If you think you can do this, then let’s work on a plan,” Joel said. 

You smiled, “Already got one baby.” 

-

As you stood at the back entrance with one of your shaking hands resting on the latch, you focused on breathing. Joel was behind you, anxiously pacing while he ran through the plans you had agreed to. Although you didn’t catch anything he said, his voice still soothed you to the point where your hands finally stopped shaking enough to unlock the door. You stilled, taking another moment to collect yourself before you finally swung it open. Just as you moved to open it, a pleading voice came from down the hall. 

“Darling, please look at me,” Joel begged and you turned to face him. 

Despite his level headedness during the negotiation, you saw how the reality of the situation had set in for him in the time since. His mate was about to run outside, calling for the infected to chase her through the streets, all while he sat back and watched. He looked panicked, bordering on terrified, as he stood in the hallway. 

“Everything will be fine baby, I’ll meet you at the truck,” you promised, turning to open the door again. 

Four long strides and a warm hand against the back of your neck halted your movements. Joel gripped you there, turning you in his grasp to face him once more and you sighed. His lips were on yours in an instant, the sweet reminiscence of the expired candy bar the two of you shared before packing up still on his tongue. You made a soft noise as he pulled away, searching his eyes for any sign of hesitation. Joel looked pained and slightly terrified, yet you could tell that the kiss had helped ground him. With him ready, so were you. 

“I’d wish ya good luck but I know you don’t need it. Fuck’s sake honey, it’s like you’ve got a four leaf clover shoved up your ass or something. Always getting out of shit way too easily,” Joel joked. 

You chuckled at that, feeling a weight lifted from your shoulders at his encouraging jest. 

“Well, you would know better than me what’s shoved up there. Did you feel anything?,” you shot back. 

He smiled wryly, “Nah baby, just me.”

The two of you laughed, melting some of the tension that had built up in preparation for this plan. If something went wrong, there was no second option. Either this worked, or the two of you were running for your lives. But somehow, with him being so soft with you, it didn’t feel as dire. Joel always knew exactly what you needed and right now, he knew that you needed him to reign in whatever panic he was feeling. 

“Hey, I love you and I’ll see you out there. If anything goes wrong, run for it baby. Don’t worry about me, I’ll find you. I swear,” he promised. 

All of that nasty doubt reared its head once more but you pushed it down, leaning forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss before you pushed away. Murmuring a soft, “I love you too,” against his mouth, you opened the door before either one of you lost your nerve again. He said something behind you but you didn’t hear it, already stepping out into the bright sun of the early morning and leaving him in the safety of the library. 

Joel shut the door behind you and you tried not to think about how hard that must have been for him, having to leave you out there to go watch the streets for an opening. He was losing it, you felt every ounce of his desperation through the bond you shared and you almost turned back to go comfort him but you shook it all away. If you wanted Joel to see his brother again, if the two of you had any chance of making it, you needed to focus on what laid in front of you. 

Skirting around the edges of the library, you peeked around the corner to see the crowd of agitated infected that roamed the street. Watching them for a moment, you noticed how they roved around in circles, as if their bodies could only remember the pattern of their repetitive trail. Luckily, if you timed it correctly, the path you aimed to take was relatively clear. There were a few strays that didn’t seem to like moving as much as the rest, but you were confident you could dodge their advances. As your heart pounded against your ribs, you sucked down one last heaving breath before you pushed off the side of the building. 

“HEY! OVER HERE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!,” you shouted. 

Your voice echoed through the empty streets, making every fungus tainted being turn towards you. The solid weight of their stare was terrifying and you began to pick up the pace as the first few runners took charge. 

“DINNER TIME! COME AND GET IT!,” you called over your shoulder. 

And the chase was on. Although you could hear them behind you, barreling towards the only possible host for infection for miles, you refused to turn around. Instead, you focused on dodging the few that stood in the way of the door that flapped in the wind in the distance. A clicker lunged at you from the side but you dodged it, leaping over the fence that stood in the way of you and the plan. 

The second your feet crossed over the threshold to the small home, you turned and slammed the door in the dozens of faces that chased after you. A flurry of heavy thumps landed against the wood, making it creak under the pressure of their fists but you were already sprinting up the stairs. Your heart slammed against your chest, sweat dripping down your back as you barreled towards the exit you had planned. 

Just as you gripped the handle to one of the bedroom doors, you heard it. As swiftly as you had closed it, the door that held back the horde was splitting open, letting in a torrent of infected that were willing to do anything to get to you. The door to the bedroom would be demolished in seconds, but you still took extra care to lock behind you before you raced towards the balcony. Gripping the cold handle, you pulled hard on the glass doors, willing them to open despite the layer of ice that had frozen them shut. 

Just as the glass budged slightly from the third hard pull, moving only a few inches in the right direction, the flimsy bedroom door shuttered from the force of your pursuers. Demented shrieks echoed throughout the house, making you double your efforts as the wood bulged under their weight. A squeal came from the sliding glass from your efforts and you yanked even harder. Just as one of the runners slammed their fist through the only barrier you had left, the glass door opened enough for you to shimmy out of the small opening. 

“Holy shit,” you exclaimed, finally forcing your wide hips through the hole you had made just in time for the door to the bedroom to break. 

As quickly as you possibly could without falling to the street below, you jumped up onto the icy rails of the balcony and hauled yourself onto the roof. Glass shattered below as you picked yourself up, a few of the less attentive infected toppling over the rail in search of you. However, not all of them were so easily fooled and you swore as multiple faces turned upwards, clocking you in an instant.  

Sprinting across the snow covered roof, panting and trying not to fall the entire way, you listened for the few that had managed to make it up. They were close, you felt it in the way your skin crawled, but your target was in sight. Looking ahead, there was a small gap between the house you were on top of and the next, and you hoped desperately that the gap would be enough to lose them. With your healing ribs still sore, the burns on your legs chafing against your jeans and the destroyed bones in your wrist pulsing from the exertion, you were quickly running out of steam. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” you panted, encouraging yourself to keep up the pace as you neared the edge. 

Squealing in terror as you launched yourself from the roof, you closed your eyes tight. If you were about to fall to your death, you didn’t want to see it coming. Instead, you thought of Joel as you fell, hoping desperately that he had made it to the truck on time. 

- Joel - 

He had to hand it to you, you definitely had balls. 

Joel was in awe as he sat at the window, watching as the love of his life screamed her head off to alert the infected. You were right, you were faster than him. Whereas Joel would’ve gone stealthier, using his strength to take out as many as he could before he went full on scorched earth, you were smooth in your approach. Even the runners, as quick as they were, were no match for the way you weaved your way to freedom. 

Joel held his breath when one lunged at you, ready to start shooting through the glass if it grabbed you, but you easily dodged it. The way you effortlessly leapt over the fence was impressive and he made a mental note to tell you that as he watched you finally make it into the house. The infected crowded the front door, pounding at it angrily as you went about your business inside. With them completely focused on getting to you, Joel slipped out the front door. 

If any of them turned back to look, they would have noticed him in the street immediately but they didn’t. That was the reason he preferred to deal with the infected rather than humans, at least the infected were easier to read. With the promise of fresh meat having been waved in their face so blatantly, not a single one of them turned back to look for him as he hurried over to the truck. 

When Joel finally reached the driver's side, he paused, sending off a quick prayer to his girls to watch over you when he heard the infected finally tear through the wood. It took less time than he had originally thought, the cheap and lightweight material of the home likely bought in hopes of saving some cash. 

“This is why I always said to go sturdy, not cheap,” Joel murmured angrily, unable to quiet the angry contractor that lived within him. 

They were in the house now, likely climbing over each other to get to you and he urgently hoped that the plan was still going as he’d hoped. Before Joel could get too far in his own head, he shoved his fears down and climbed into the cab. Shoving the key into the ignition, he sighed and turned it on. The engine roared to life and he sighed, feeling close to tears at the sound of the working vehicle. Now, all he needed was you. 

Drumming his fingers nervously against the steering wheel, Joel stared out the window in search of you. There was a fire escape at the house next door that you were supposed to climb down at any moment, at least that was what he kept telling himself. There were three houses in between this one and the home he had seen you run in, meaning that there were only three big jumps before you were free from the beings that chased after you. 

“Come on darling, you’ve got this. Come back to me now baby,” Joel muttered to himself, the panic growing with every second you weren’t sliding down the icy ladder. 

He thought of Sarah, of Tess, of Bill and Frank, of Ellie, of all the people he had lost in his life. All of their deaths were moments that he felt at least partly responsible for, with his deepest regrets being saved for that of his children’s departures from this world. But if this failed, if you died trying to get this stupid fucking truck, it would undoubtedly be his fault. Joel was the one that allowed you to do this, he even helped plan and actively encouraged it. If you died, he was done for. Ellie was his second chance and then she died. For some reason, he was lucky enough to get a third chance at life with you. Joel didn’t care if it was given to him, he didn’t want a fourth. He wanted you. 

When the fear became unbearable, Joel gripped the door handle and started to push his door open. Fuck the plan, he thought to himself. He didn’t care about it if it meant that you were trapped somewhere or hurt. Joel refused to allow himself to think of any other reason why you might be delayed, he couldn’t will himself to think about you lying dead somewhere or shambling around as an infected. If you weren’t here, it meant that you were held up and needed him. That was the only possibility. 

Just as he placed one foot on the ground, something heavy landed in the bed of the truck with a loud bang that resounded throughout the neighborhood. Joel threw himself back inside and slammed the door shut, thinking it was one of the infected before he heard your urgent voice. 

“GO! GET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! THEY’RE STILL AFTER ME!,” you shouted, banging your hands against the roof with urgency.  

Joel swore, shifting into drive and slamming his foot down on the gas as you shouted about the incoming crowd. The truck groaned at the effort but it still lurched out of the snow just in time. One by one, your pursuers fell with a splat onto the driveway as the truck pulled off onto the street. Clickers and runners exploded out from their hideaways, uselessly chasing after the meal Joel had taken from them. He veered out of the residential area and onto the highway, leaving them all behind. 

“Holy shit,” he heard you say, your voice muffled from the glass. 

Reaching back, he slid the back window open with ease and started to ask if you were okay but he was stopped. Instead, Joel’s mouth was left hanging open dumbly as you popped your head inside and started talking a mile a minute. 

“Holy fucking shit, did you see that? There was a goddamn lock on the fire exit, who does that?! I mean, hello?! What if there was a fire?! They were chasing me so I just said fuck it and jumped. Oh my god, tell me you saw that,” you babbled through heaving breaths. 

Joel shook his head dumbly, the relief of hearing you talk was enough to bring a tear to his eye. He swiped at his face, trying his best to make the right noises of affirmation as you continued to explain how you lost the horde. Relief washed over him and he tried hard not to break down completely until he maneuvered the old truck further away. You didn’t seem to notice his distress, too hopped up on adrenaline to do anything other than prattle on about what you had just endured. He waited a solid fifteen minutes, allowing the distance to grow for as long as he could before he needed to stop the car. 

When Joel came to a stop, you cheered and moved to hop out of the back but he was already in front of you. Without another word, he lifted you from the back and pinned you against the side of the vehicle. Shoving his nose into your neck, he snuffled at the skin until the scent there soothed him. His hands were shaking as they danced across your skin, brushing over every part of you to ensure that there were no marks left over from the encounter. Joel couldn’t feel any bite marks but he wasn’t confident that there wasn’t one hiding under your clothes, threatening to take what was his away from him at the drop of a hat. 

“Baby, I’m okay. Hey, look at me. I’m fine,” you cooed. 

It wasn’t until you pulled his head back by the scruff of the neck that Joel realized he was crying. Scratch that, he was sobbing against your skin like a terrified little boy. Which was fitting, considering that was how he felt as you tried desperately to soothe him. He tried to focus on the way your fingers rubbed circles into scalp, knowing that he needed to calm down before he keeled over from the stress but it was nearly impossible. 

“You’re not bit?,” he asked through shaky breaths. 

“No Joel, I’m not bit. I got out just fine, okay? We made it baby,” you answered in the gentlest of tones. 

Joel let out an embarrassing whine when you pulled away, scrambling after you like a lost puppy as you walked towards the truck. He shook like a newborn calf as the wind ripped through the trees, reminding him of how open the area was. All he could think about was how anyone or anything could be lurking in the trees and suddenly, he was glued to your back as you threw the passenger door open. When he tried to help you in, you stopped him and shoved him towards the seat. 

“But I -” he started

“- But nothing cowboy, sit your ass down and let me drive us somewhere safer than this,” you cut in. 

With that, you shut the door in his face and crossed over to the driver’s side. Joel jumped when you opened the door, the old hinges groaning as you slid in beside him. He wasn’t sure why but as you shifted the car back into drive, exhaustion began to creep up and pull at his eyelids. Scooching across the disgusting burnt orange colored bench seat, he couldn’t help but press his body against yours as you drove. He was stuck to your side, gripping your thigh with one hand as he stared at the side of your face. 

“Are YOU okay Joel?,” you asked, glancing over at him from time to time while you tried to focus on the road. 

Joel nodded, overwhelmed with how tired he felt. From the moment he had been woken up this morning, panic had been plucking at all the nerves in his body. By the time you had jumped down into the bed of the truck, all of them were shot to hell and his muscles were aching from the exertion of being clenched all day. The rollercoaster of emotions he had been through made everything feel so raw and he longed to just curl up in bed with you, holding you hostage in his arms until you asked him to let you go. 

“M’okay honey, just real tired. I love you but I was so scared,” he answered truthfully, with his words slightly slurred with exhaustion. 

You hummed and reached up to dig a free hand through his curls, playing with them until his cheek landed on your shoulder. Joel knew he should ask if his big ass head was too heavy for you but he didn’t. He was too greedy for the connection at that moment, needing to be as close to you as he possibly could be in the given circumstance. 

“Love you too handsome,” you said, “Get some rest, I’ll wake you up a bit later.” 

And with the permission granted, Joel was out like a light. 

[chiprewington]

can you tell us more abt stapler?

Thumbs up emoji... I'm glad you wanna know more about her!!

There was a whole... Thing involving her circumstances that needed to be dealt with for the safety of her and her parents. Legally, she is listed as only a Bilby Toon. Nothing about how she's actually a White-tailed Jackrabbit+Chainsaw Consultant.

Chip's involvement with her is kept incredibly under wraps and anonymous. This is why her last name is specifically Winkles rather than Revvington or Winkles-Revvington. As far as anyone knows, Stapler's father is unknown to the public.

Both of these above points allows at least enough comfort to have her attend a Private School. Parent/Teacher Conferences means that only Perry comes.

In fact... a lot of Stapler's care falls onto Perry. While Chip is absolutely doing a lot better mentally and is in a much, much better place than he ever was while employed under C.O.G.S. Inc., he still has to be careful. He needs to be able to step away if necessary. He's immensely bothered by the fact, even though it's mandatory for his and his family's safety.

Enough of the more rough facts though. Stapler grows fast (though she was a big baby to begin with), getting nearly as tall as Perry by the time she's 3 years old and she still wants uppies. (Don't worry, Chip can still give her uppies.)

She was also named by Chip. ...His excuse is that toons have silly names regularly. ...And she looks like a Stapler. ...If you squint.

Her eyes are tiny and beady under the glasses. She's also very near-sighted. Flunky-type beat.

She also remains non-verbal for quite a while, only starting to talk in the middle of her 3rd year and even then preferring to be quiet.

Not having a mouth (her "teeth" aren't actual teeth. it's white steel) might be part of this.

In comparison, she picks up on Sign Language very quickly and prefers it instead.

Her favorite toys are what's basically a Suit-equivalent to Barbie. She fucking loves playing dolls and making up the most convoluted plots ever. She will hand you one of her Mingler dolls and tell you she's a wanted criminal.

at some point she happens upon Chip's metal band CD and merch collection and this becomes her canon event

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Daniel Kitson just did a run of radio shows in which he went through his old CD collection, and played a song from each CD to decide whether he wants to keep the CD or give it to a charity shop. Which was a fascinating premise, as I could compare it to the bootlegs I have of his radio shows from 2006-2013, when he'd frequently make flippant remarks about how he carelessly bought CDs he didn't need, and didn't take care of them well. And now in 2025, we can hear him go through all his CDs and realize how many of them he didn't need, and how many were scratched because he never took care of them.

However, I do find the premise odd because he kept talking about how he needed to decide whether he liked some music enough for it to be worth having the CD take up physical space in his house. Or, on the other hand, whether he was sufficiently disinterested in some music to feel okay about giving it away so he could never hear that album again.

And I'd like to ask - have people really just forgotten about digitizing music? Your choices for what to do with a CD aren't just to either let it take up physical space in your house forever, or lose all the music on it. You can rip it to your computer, put the digital files wherever you keep your music collection, and then give the CD to a charity shop so that other people may enjoy the art.

I say this because I get the impression, lately, that most people have forgotten about that option. Last year, I had to get a new phone. In the phone store, I said I don't care about most of a phone's specs, but I would like a lot of storage space, because I keep my music on there. The store clerk asked me if that means I like to store songs directly on my phone, and I said yes (in reality, I store my entire digital music collection - the one I started when I got my first iPod in 2006 and I've just been adding to it ever since - on my computer, and I put an abridged version of it on my phone for listening when I'm away from home). He asked me what app I use to play my music, which I found a confusing question, because the music app itself hardly takes up any space, so you'd think it wouldn't be relevant. I said I use an app called Musicolet, and he said... oh, so I really do mean that I just keep the music files directly on my phone. I said yes, what else would I mean. And he said he'd assumed I'd say I use Spotify or something. Not just as a way to find new music or whatever. He assumed that the app I used to play music on my phone was relevant to the space it takes up, because I probably aren't playing music I actually own, I'm probably just downloading music to some pay-per-month streaming service like Spotify.

I said of course I don't do that, I have mp3s of every song in my laptop's music collection, any song I'm likely to listen to regularly gets stored on my phone too, and that's why I want a phone with a decent amount of space (I know I should just buy an external memory card, It's on my list of things to do). The store employee found this surprising.

I like how often I come across Tumblr posts that say "Fuck Spotify", and point out that if you pay every month to rent access to whatever songs a corporation has decided to make temporarily available on their online service - that is not the same thing as owning that music. I like that Tumblr people seem to be aware of that. But those Tumblr posts seem to always go on to say that physical media is the way to go - you need CDs, DVDs.

Personally, I think that CDs and DVDs can be great! They're cool memorabilia, and they are important ways to preserve media. But there is a reason why we innovated to more convenient methods of media storage. It is objectively less convenient to use a CD (limited to only 10 to 15 songs, have to physically change the disc if you want some different songs) than to play music from a digitized collection (can immediately click on whatever you want without physically getting up to change anything).

It's odd to me that people don't talk more about the other option - taking songs via old school media like CDs, and putting it digitally on a hard drive. Then giving the CD to a charity shop. Do people just... not do that anymore? The store employee when I bought my new phone made me feel like people just don't do that. And Kitson's radio show with the focus on the weird idea that you can either keep a CD or lose all its content.

[izzy-b-hands]

tossing the tech issue out in case anyone might have an idea I haven't already tried:

Issue is that as of the last weekish? or so? on some sites and on a few of the vids I've recorded via my laptop, videos won't play correctly. By that, I mean they go all old school green pixelated as they play and will lag a fuck ton. Reloading the page sometimes fixes it, sometimes pausing and starting again does, other and frankly most times I can't get it to work as normal at all. There are a few videos on each affected site that I'm going back to as testing to see if they keep giving this issue whenever I play them; thus far it's been seemingly random as to when and why (at least to me, very likely the issue is obvious to someone more familiar with current tech)

I've run the built in and downloadable troubleshooters (including system diagnostics and all that jazz where I get to open the commands and type in whatever they advise and hope it works. It hasn't.) All have said that both software and tech are in working order. I've tried to update drivers, via Dell and Microsoft, but again both say all drivers are up to date. Intel driver search also said I have the most current driver for my graphics card in particular.

I've tried a few of the extra troubleshooting options provided in a help thread on Microsoft's site that was from this year, so clearly others are having this issue. The guy in the thread dealing with it said none of this worked for him either, and the thread closed without him stating he ever found out how to resolve it unfortunately. None of the suggested options have fixed it for me though.

I should note, no issue w/video games!! everything there is working as normal, no real issue w/frame rate or anything graphics related (aside from GTA online forgetting to load a sidewalk or road or two, but that's been happening for ages on every device I've ever played it on lmao.)

I feel so stupid. I used to be better at fixing things like this but I feel like I'm missing something obvious to clear this up. It's affecting my ability to upload my vids to P H and I literally just hit the bronze tier in their tier program so I HAVE to keep uploading more regularly to keep it (it means slightly more ad money; I need one hundred earned to cash out and I'm only at like. thirty one bucks rn so the ad money really does add up over time, a little more would be awesome.)

If any of y'all have the slightest idea on how to fix this, please reach out. I can give more detail abt what I've already tried to do to fix it, and even if I've already tried whatever you might suggest I'm more than ready to try it again and hope it works the second go! I'm really hoping this isn't an actual graphics card issue bc A. I'm not confident enough to get into my laptop to muck with it like I was with my old one in college (she had an actual CD drive and easy to get into back panel to check on fans and such), B. idk how much those are rn but I'm gonna guess Too Much, and C. every trouble shooter that involved checking the graphics card said it was coming up golden, working exactly as it should. I'm at a loss and like I said, probably missing something obvious; if any of you can see it let my dumb ass know please!

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP,

Thank you for your posts about the Billboard article. I hadn't seen it and I find the whole Billboard conversation fascinating (albeit frustrating at times).

I thought the NYTimes had a much more nuanced and less judgmental take on the whole Billboard thing, talking about how country music stars including the “Rich Men North of Richmond” singer and Jason Aldean have recently benefitted from tactics perfected by Taylor Swift and BTS fans to rule the charts -- especially the use of digital downloads. (Quote below because I couldn't link to the article)

"[T]here was a more targeted digital savviness at play, too. Much of the consumer activity that drove the track to No. 1 came via 99-cent digital downloads from outlets like the iTunes Store — an outdated format that is declining in popularity faster than CDs.

Despite streaming now accounting for more than 80 percent of music consumption overall, paid downloads are weighted more on the charts, a quirk exploited regularly by pop superfans devoted to acts like Ms. Swift or the South Korean group BTS. In often coordinated efforts, they use downloads to show support and earn chart milestones that are celebrated like wins in sports or political elections."

I feel like Billboard is just unhappy that they're being outsmarted by fans and instead of trying to figure out a way to truly determine which songs are most popular (whatever that even means anymore), they're just trying to blame it on Jimin and BTS. What else is new?

***

Hi @waitingforyouapm

I agree. Until fans began directly impacting the charts more, Billboard was fairly comfortable with music labels, streaming platforms, promoters, and other industry middlemen being the sole arbiters of what’s deemed popular and profitable. But now that fandoms are able to show that the artists they support (and with k-pop these artists are increasingly non-white and non-American), have enough demand to show up in the top 10 - an achievement historically relegated only to artists with the influence of the middlemen who always got their cut, Billboard is now in a tough spot having to explain to those industry middlemen and labels why their usual tactics no longer guarantee their artists the top spots. By making a scapegoat of non-American artists and fandoms using the same tools that white, American fandom-supported artists like Taylor Swift continue to rely on in broad daylight, they successfully redirect the blame, when all Billboard really has to do is revamp their charting paradigm completely to account for active and real demand as it’s shown in the 21st century / digital economy. It’s just easier to tap into good ol American prejudices about Asian artists, “rabid blue-haired 14 year old girls”, “Chinese femboys”, “easy to manipulate and bait female dominated fandoms”, etc. Like, the ending conclusion of the Billboard article was that Western labels should lean more into merch and building/leveraging active fan communities to spend more money lmao. Compare that to the NYTimes article that more comprehensively showed the landscape of music charting year to date, pointing out how American conservative politicians have moved their front in the culture war to music charts, pushing racist country artists to the top of the charts with tools Taylor Swift, k-pop fandoms, and other American and Latino/x artists already use.

Everybody knows exactly what the Billboard article was, because every year since 2019, we’ve gotten an article almost exactly like that one. It’s just this time, they were less shy about naming names and had an easy time painting a compelling picture given the evidence from Jimin fanbases and funding they easily linked to, to justify deleting all his D2C sales forever from charting considerations. Since ARMYs / BTS are the non-American pioneers on those charts we’re certified persona non grata lmao. In fact, going by the end conclusion of the Billboard article, I won’t be surprised if considerations for other k-pop groups are pushed this year at various awards, instead of for Jimin, or even any artists related to HYBE since they had no issue naming NewJeans. It would give them the engagement and then some, while neutralizing some of the worst criticism of their prejudices that we’re all seeing play out.

Like I said, it’s a gutter job. But one that’s unfortunately par for the course. This won’t stop BTS, Jimin, or the fandom. Not one bit.

[landlordrecords]

BOOK SWAPS/BOOK EXCHANGES

I think I've only mentioned this in passing here, but they've been a big part of my life the last 2 or 3 years. Generally village phone boxes or bus shelters, repurposed since half the libraries shut, so locals can swap(/dump) stuff.

They seem particularly prevalent in Cambs/Suffolk, but I know they are other places as well. Goldmine! Myself, my folks, & Simon Morris all had tons of doubles between us, cheap OK stuff that could probably go, etc, but wasn't valuable enough to sell, & that's largely now been converted into a high proportion of the classics we didn't have, replacements for knackered old copies, DVDs, CDs, things I got out of libraries years ago but never saw to buy, wants list stuff, gifts for friends & family.

I do these now on a kinda industrial scale, since coming to look after my folks, which probably isn't the idea (although I studiously avoid the ones described as 'libraries'), but I always swap stuff in & it often goes pretty quick. You kinda need to drive to make the best of it, but I really have: heaven for a collector, & community-minded. I even have a little tidy up when I'm there, chuck waterlogged stuff, try to put similar stuff together, etc (the librarian in me). And however often I think I've run out of stuff to swap, more stuff seems to pop up. It is like a weird, benevolent, super-British little 21st Century pastime.

If you're in/through my area, I currently hit Wilburton, Wentworth, Witchford, Witcham, Sutton, Little Downham, Ely Downham Rd, Bluntisham & Colne real reg (& use Wentworth for trading on cheap DVDs & Witcham the same for music)...I also less regularly check out Rampton, Oakington, Soham, Holywell Row, Horningsea, Lt Shelford, Hauxton, Coton, Broughton, Upwood, Hemingford Abbots and Hail Weston (& some of these places are also rather beautiful).

[lyinar]

For fairness, FFG's Genesys ruleset is a generified version of what they came up with for their Star Wars game. I've run both, and the weird dice system makes for some amazingly cinematic combats because you can fail but still get some benefit out of it and succeed while something still goes wrong. I've found that how it works clicks on about your third roll with it.

As an example of the cinematic combat, the Genesys game I ran was in a mashup setting that started as Shadowrun and had stuff like the Dresden Files and The Secret World and Assassin's Creed folded into it. In the fight that was the culmination of the PC Shadowrunners' op to take out a combination soy plantation and blood magic research station run by Aztechnology, a guard shot at the party's Street Samurai, and failed badly enough to give a free shot to his target. The Street Samurai managed to hit but also rolled a disadvantage that dropped them prone. So, the end result was that the Street Samurai, who was using rollerblades built into their cyberlegs to quickly cross the compound, hit a rock and fell as the guard fired, causing them to miss, and flawlessly head-shotted the guy with one of their pistols on the way down.

If your players are fans of The Witcher (and are okay with far more crunch than any version of D&D), one of the more interesting byproducts of R. Talsorian and CD Projekt Red working together on Cyberpunk 2077 was a Witcher RPG heavily based around The Witcher 3 and using modified Cyberpunk rules.

If they're fans of Avatar The Last Airbender and/or Legend of Korra, there's an EXTREMELY well-made AvataRPG that's very much built to be a cinematic collaborative-storytelling style game where your characters' big moments of awesome come from finding balance between their conflicting ideals.

Star Trek Adventures is mechanically built to support the fact that your characters are crew members of a ship who work together, and has fast-creation rules for Supporting Characters so the person who plays the ship's Counselor can control a Redshirt on an away mission that they know isn't going to need someone with their main character's skillset.

Age of Sigmar Soulbound is set in Warhammer Age of Sigmar and is all about playing excessively badass characters regularly doing the impossible in a grimdark setting, and the personal costs of being a beacon of hope in such a universe. Or you could play a group using the Champions of Death rulebook and effectively run black ops for the God of Necromancy (or against him, because he REALLY deserves it). Or for the Ultimate Murderhobo Experience, you could play using the Champions of Destruction rulebook and be a merry band of Orruks and Ogors and Troggoths and Grots wreaking mayhem wherever they go. No matter what you play, basically all the player Archetypes have actual extremely high-quality models from Games Workshop.

Speaking of Warhammer, there are now three different rulesets for Warhammer 40k RPGs. The old FFG system had entire games focusing on different game styles, Wrath and Glory is very much an action-focused game, and Imperium Maledictum is focused on lower-level operatives working for a patron within the Imperium of Man.

And, of course, there's also the upcoming Daggerheart, made by the people behind Critical Role, which very much leans into an improv-heavy collaborative storytelling style.

D&D has its place, and is actually a well-made game for what it does, but it's far from all that's out there.

Not an original observation but it's legitimately insane how common of a story "I don't want to run d&d 5e anymore but I'm stuck running it because it's the only thing my group will let me GM for them" is. It's fucking everywhere in any non-D&D focused ttrpg space.

Like. I think "the person who does like 90% of the work to make the game actually happen gets to pick what game we play" should be the bare minimum of courtesy towards a GM.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

081 of 2025

Has anyone ever told anyone lies to get them to hate you?

Yeah, last year. So childish for a 60 years old. Thankfully that other person is too smart to believe in it.

Are you inside or outside right now?

Inside, but going outside soon.

Do you think guys with just one ear pierced are cute?

Doesn't matter to me.

Are you wearing socks right now?

Yes, it's pretty cold.

Do you like your cousins?

Of course. But we don't keep in touch regularly.

Which mainstream artist pisses you off?

I don't really care about mainstream artists, but Demi Lovato is just another level. I can't stand this person.

Do you own harem pants?

Nope, I would never wear such a thing.

Would you rather be called pretty or hot?

Nope, thanks. Neither.

Are there many gangsters or chavs at your school?

I'm not in school anymore.

Describe the seat you’re sitting on?

It's a brown couch, pretty much destroyed by us and our cat lol.

Do you have any weird bedtime rituals?

They're not weord to me, so please define "weird".

Have you ever sent any celeb fan mail?

Yes, I remember I sent a mail to Natalia Oreiro as a kid, but she never responded.

When did you last pull a muscle? How did you do it?

Yesterday, by lifting a box. Both my arms suffered :P

Name the last shitty CD you bought.

Probably something by Mandaryna, out of pure sentiment XD

Do you play online games?

Jo, but I play mobile games.

Have you ever chugged maple syrup?

NNo, but I like maple syrup.

Do you prefer original or acoustic versions better?

Depends on my mood and on the performance.

What was the last thing you ate?

Just got Pizza Hut. Garden Lovers, my favourite.

What was the last thing you drank?

Sparkling Chupa Chups drink, sour strawberry flavour.

Have you ever gotten a serious injury at school? What happened?

I was running, fell to the ground, broke my nose. Ow.

Are you on any medication at the moment?

Yeah, for the rest of my life. I take Keppra, Lamictal, aspirin for blood, and fluoxetine to stop anxiety.

Do you have a favorite pair of headphones or earbuds?

Yeah, my old good blue Beats EP headphones. Just ordered the same model, but in red.

How do you wear your hair for school?

I'm not in school.

Have you ever performed in front of a large group?

Yeah. Almost died lol.

Are you hungry right now?

No, I'm eating.

Have you ever fundraised? If so, what for?

No. I'm not rich enough.

Do you ever go on the Bzoink forums?

RIP Bzoink, but I have an account on the new Bzoink forum which I'm glad exists.

Is it day or night?

Evening.

What was the last DVD you bought?

Oh my, it was years ago. Parker Lewis Never Loses, I think.

Are the curtains in your bedroom open or closed?

We don't have curtains in our bedroom. We have blinds.

Are you wearing earrings right now?

No, just 3 in my ears and all in my face.

Your least favourite type of piercing:

Nipples and anything genitals, ew. You do you, but I would never do it.

Which mode of transport do you use to get to school or work?

Bus one week, car the other week.

Call of Duty, Halo or Left 4 Dead?

None, but my husband plays Call of Duty.

Name a singer whose voice makes you swoon.

Nick Holmes from Paradise Lost, anyone? And also, Novastar. He's got the voice.

Do your pets follow you when you walk around the house?

Victoria did. Susie rarely does it.

Do you own a BB gun? If so, have you ever shot anyone with it?

No and no lol.

Which hockey team do you go for, if any?

None, thanks.

Do you watch makeup tutorial videos on Youtube?

No, I'm not interested in them.

Have you read any magazines like Cosmo?

Nope. I just bought the newest issue of our local magazine because they wrote a 4 pages article about my workplace and I wanted to read it.

What do you do online?

Post on forums, post on Tumblr, post on YouTube, post on Deviantart (need to update on it, though), hang out on some forums.

Do you have any scars on your face?

Yeah, one on my forehead from bumping into the table when I was one year old and just learning to walk.

Have you ever won any competition or contest?

Do you listen to Owl City?

Nope, I don't.

Do you own a lot of nail polishes?

None at all.

What did you have for breakfast this morning?

Cottage cheese.

Do you still have Easter egg hunts?

Never did.

Are you wearing shoes at this very moment? If so, describe them.

No, I'm not. I'm not even wearing socks.

Do you know who deadmau5 is?

I do, but I don't really listen to him anymore.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WE KNOW WHO ONE ANOTHER ARE

If there's no such thing as good taste. A rounds creep inexorably downward. One reason it's easy to know how to design type systems may shudder at this. But software, as a rule, doesn't get redesigned enough. Pick good cofounders. If you want to buy a nice CD player, you'll probably grow, your price will go up, and you'll start to get it through to people. The reason the new model has advanced so rapidly is that it sucks for doing what hackers want to do something grand or heroic, but just to make money.

Since software patents are no different from hardware patents, people protected ideas by keeping them secret. It's hard for us now to understand what they do: you call a function on the macro's arguments, and whatever it returns gets inserted in place of the macro call. This pattern is no coincidence: it is the people. The same thing could happen with the Internet. Everyone buys this story that PG started YC and his wife just kind of helped. Things always seem intangible when you don't understand them. Countries worried about their competitiveness are right to be concerned about the number of sufficiently good founders starting companies, and that often means seeing something the big company doesn't want to work that hard. But now comes the hard part. As in science, the hard part. It's very dangerous to morale to start to depend on deals closing, not just as a landmark in the history of technology would want to underestimate the power of large organizations peaked in the late twentieth century something changed. If nuclear winter really is here, it may be more than new. In young hackers, optimism predominates.

I don't think there was a change in the social conventions and perhaps the laws governing the way big companies worked. Well, not quite. The libraries all work well together; everything in the language fits together like the parts in a fine camera. In America you can have either a flimsy box banged together out of two by fours and drywall, or a McMansion—a flimsy box banged together out of two by fours and drywall, but larger, more dramatic-looking, and full of good examples to learn from, and the latter because the whole social thing was tapped out. Wufoo seem to have rooted themselves in Tampa on $118k, but they're an extreme case. But as the tests get broader, the schools do too. The other big driver of change is that startups are often involved in disreputable things. Over the last decade we've seen the percentage of the company sold in series A rounds for as much equity as founders want to sell and with no option pool that comes only from the founders' shares stands to reap huge benefits.

He was like nothing else I'd seen. I don't think there was a change in the social conventions and perhaps the laws governing the way big companies worked. Part of the reason—possibly the main reason—that startups have not spread as broadly as the Industrial Revolution? Running a startup is to focus on one to the exclusion of the rest. In other fields, companies regularly sue competitors for patent infringement till you have money, and once you have money, people will pay attention to you, because if they don't like what they're supposed to. It was striking how old fashioned this sounded. Hackers like to hack, we can spring on the world a stream of new startups that might otherwise not have existed. The median visitor will arrive with their finger poised on the Back button.

It has an interactive toplevel that starts up fast. That doesn't mean you can ignore the economy. Or rather, what used to be very valuable to YC. A market takes every organization and keeps just the good ones and the bad ones only becomes visible in the other half of their jobs: choosing and advising startups. I talk to the founders. The real reason we started Y Combinator. K & R is the ideal here. So all other things being equal, no one will sue you for patent infringement. More precisely, the trick is to realize that there's no real contradiction here. The classic yuppie worked for a small organization. It's hard for them to flourish in societies ruled by people who stole at will from the merchant class.

Of course it matters to do a good job. And in any case, competitors are not the biggest threat. Many of the interesting applications written in other languages. They were actually right. Don't say anything unless you're fairly sure of it. Every couple days I slip and call it Viaweb. This is especially true of a highly articulated tool like a programming language to have, say, to make your software compatible with some other piece of software—in fact, he was.

[zarla-s]

Might as well throw out some of mine in the spirit of things. I have SO MUCH music that it'd be impossible to narrow down any, so instead here's a list of songs that I have already been told to skip when in the car. I love all of these with 100% sincerity and listen to them regularly.

Everything You Know Is Wrong - The second Weird Al started singing my dad skipped it and gave me a look.

We're Off To See The World - My mom borrowed my car once and I left a CD in the player with this on it and when she brought it back she was like "you have a chipmunks song on your cd??? for real??? why would you do that?????"

DDR Mario Mix - Jump! Jump! Jump! - Had this described as "rabid mice are clawing at my eardrums"

Baker Street (alternative mix) - My mom didn't ask me to skip this but she did sit there quietly and lament why someone would do something like this to such a pretty song.

Yoshi's Island "2001 Elastic New Year" OC Remix - Got asked to skip this one because the high pitched synth was actually hurting someone in the car.

spelunker tears you up - Even my brother who played a LOT of Spelunker was like alright, that's enough of that after a bit.

Source Racing - This one is so short they didn't actually have a chance to ask, they just went "what the hell is this" and then "what the hell was that" when it ended

Rosella Plays the Organ - Another very short one, I mostly got asked why I had something like this on a CD. BECAUSE IT'S GREAT.

Old Joe Clark - "This is a joke right? You have to be joking." (I'M NOT, I LOVE THIS SONG)

Peach, Plum, Pear - Me and my brother were grooving to it, my mom in the back did not approve and asked to skip it ("why does she sound like that??")

Cosmic Gate - Somewhere Over The Rainbow - "Agh, her voice is crawling on my spine"

GOT MY PONY SPAM FOR YOU - "Absolutely not."

It's a Small World ~Ducking Hardcore Mix~ - "Do you have ANY normal music?"

Shining Coral - Personally I don't think this is that annoying, the person I was with just didn't really like smooth jazz and said it was making them sleepy.

Droids-B-Us - "What is this" "It's the Droids-B-Us theme from Space Quest 1 VGA, remember? I liked how it sounded with the Soundblaster more than the other version I have so I ripped this one myself with DOSbox." "Oh. Okay. Can we listen to something else?"

Together Forever (The Cyber Pet Song) - Got asked to skip this because the way she pronounced "tamagotchi" was driving them crazy (which, fair).

Lady, be BAD! - This is a bit of an outlier because it wasn't in the car, I was just singing along to it outloud and someone actually came in from another room to tell me to stop because it was annoying.

The “I’m not stuck in here with you, you’re stuck in here with me” challenge

Make a playlist of the worst and most annoying songs you have. Downloading new songs for this challenge doesn’t count, these have to be songs you already have and listen to regularly. Novelty songs that are meant to be annoying or terrible also don’t count (The Most Unwanted Song, Markie’s Diary, deliberately bad singing, etc.). Something like Dancemania Christmas Speed counts although it should be broken into individual tracks for maximum shuffle potential. Nothing longer than 5 minutes.

Get in a car with a bunch of people.

Get the aux cord.

Start your playlist on shuffle.

The first person to skip a song or ask to skip a song loses. If someone else is also playing, you then switch to their awful playlist.

Alternate endurance mode:

Each song successfully played through earns the listeners a point. 

The first person to skip a song or ask to skip a song loses a point.

The game lasts until you get to where you’re going. The person with the most points at the end wins. If it’s a tie then… idk, congratulate each other.

What would you put on your playlist? 👀  If you play this game with me you will almost certainly lose btw.

[godhelpmeimdescendingintomadness]

Ok. I'm a big lover of physical media, I love collecting DVDs and CDs, and the fact that DVDs are 2 bucks a box at thrift stores does not help my addiction but im not complaining.

All this to say that now that DVDs are no longer a huge thing anymore, places that used to keep DVDs to be rented out or borrowed out have now given them to thrift stores, and sometimes you'll stumble upon them and buy them. Hell! Sometimes I won't even know until I crack the case open to watch what I got, that it was a rentable copy.

And I just,,,, look man, I know, objectively when you get a DVD from a thrift store it has already been loved and seen its day and was probably someone's favourite, but,,, there's something even more magical about rented DVDs, and suddenly having this little DVD which was probably played over and over and over again by so many different people so many times, and loved in so many different ways that I will never comprehend it. This isn't one person, or one family, MAYBE playing this on loop because someone had an undying obsession with a film, or maybe it was the least favourite always at the back of the cupboard. This is so many people all sitting down in front of a screen spanning years to watch this silly little film, so so many people I will never get to see or meet and we're all looking at this screen playing this one movie and i swear if i squint enough maybe i can see them staring back like it's a fucked up lil mirror. just like how the dvd has this movie printed onto it forever, a little bit of that wonder and joy we have when watching it, even if distracted or tugged away from the screen, gets put into that dvd, in the little space left, and then gets passed along. maybe i can feel the love for this film a five year old might have had, and who demanded their family rent it out regularly, maybe the friends at a sleepover who aren't really watching anymore and are doing something else but are still in front of that screen.

in summary, best way i can put without weird meandering is that my brain see the "rent" sticker on a dvd case and it goes uuuehehuehuhueheh

[hisuian-history-makers]

We know the usual story. Get called to the Pokemon world, wake up as a Pokémon, and get dragged into our first mystery dungeon...

Except we don’t see the struggle each human goes through adapting to their new body. Fur takes longer to dry than our skin, scales would probably itch when shedding, and accidentally breathing fire will be a constant worry for them. How do instincts work with the human mind? Some moves like Tackle or Scratch might be easier to regularly use than say—Razor Leaf. A whole new center of gravity to figure out while doing demanding exercise every day. Pokemon logic means all the options seem to have teeth.

The pokemon probably have different written language considering what we see in close shots in-game. Imagine for a moment being illiterate in a world that functions without the internet. Where the easiest way to earn money is by going to dangerous places where innocent people get lost daily in. Places that change their layout each time you go in and space bends to make these crazy dungeons with infinite foes. Most Pokemon we defeat in there disappear like illusions with us having to beat up enough to maybe find one mon who can actually talk.

If dungeon Pokemon are supposed to be the quote-on-quote “wild” Pokemon, then why do they still attack us after we save the world? How is attacking any non-dungeon Pokemon considered more riled up than normal? I wish the story went into further detail since we know some live-around dungeons. Like the Luxray/Manetric pack or the three-mankey. The word wild fits them better than the MD Pokemon.

Moving on, why do we only see helpful mature humans as the protagonists? Where are the poke-verse native kids who grew up with horror stories about people turning into Pokemon? I’d expect them to be pretty scared if it happened. There are probably some humans who want to profit from the main currency gold coins. Maybe some people are turned into Pokemon they know nothing about or dropped in places with ones not native to their home region.

What about more skeptic partners who don’t believe us outright when we say we are human? I mean, there will be very few Pokemon who know exactly what a human looks like. We might have been the ones to invent TMs in the universe. Literal CDs that contain moves with no computers in sight. What if the Ninetails’ Legend was more well-known making most picture us as manipulating monsters? The partner could form a team with us in the first game to watch over potential danger. A crazy mon could hurt themselves while an actual human will probably mess with something old.

Could humans even understand Pokemon? Or did Grovyle play charades to tell his human partner about something? Would scarves work on humans in the first place, wands I can see being farmed for them to take advantage of.

(Just a bunch of PMD thoughts I had recently. So many unanswered questions and mysteries left in the entire series. Needed to format my thoughts to get them out in all honesty.)

[snarp]

I wrote this "How To Pick Out A Cheap Laptop In Early 2023" tutorial for my parents' law office; there's some task-specific stuff in there, but it may be useful for other people.

DON'T SPEND MORE THAN $500 - You can generally meet all of the guidelines below for under $400.

YOU NEED WINDOWS 10, NOT WINDOWS 11 - Avoid buying Windows 11 PCs or upgrading existing PCs to Windows 11. If a PC uses Windows 11, turn it off whenever it is not in use. As of right now (early 2023), Windows 11 is still only really intended for use in places with 100%-consistent high-speed internet access. The office's internet connection (like most places in Appalachia) can't handle this, so Windows 11 computers are likely to slow the whole network to a crawl. (There are a few things you can do to make this less of a problem, but they're not practical for the office (time-consuming, have to be re-done regularly, will stress everyone out).)

YOU NEED AN ETHERNET PORT - Since spotty wifi is a problem in a lot of places, buying a laptop with no ethernet port is a bad idea. (Also, laptops WITHOUT ethernet adapters aren't generally designed for heavy daily use - they can break easily.)

YOU NEED BOTH AN HDMI PORT AND AN SVGA PORT - The vast majority of TVs/projectors use either HDMI or SVGA ports; some recent laptops are missing one or both. This makes it very hard to, for example, give PowerPoint presentations in old courthouses.

YOU NEED A (SMALL) SSD DRIVE - Computers with SSDs (solid-state drives) can turn on and open files MUCH faster than those with HDDs (hard disc drives). SSDs have less storage space than HDDs, but that doesn't matter for the office's purposes - 256 GB is more than enough.

YOU NEED AT LEAST 8GB OF RAM - Preferably 16GB.

YOU DON'T WANT A "BUILT-IN BATTERY" - This just means "battery that can't be replaced." Laptops like this are designed to be disposable, so they always have a lot of other problems.

YOU NEED AT LEAST TWO USB-3 PORTS - Some recent laptops only have USB-C ports (the tiny ones), not the normal, rectangular ones (USB-3 and -2). USB-C-only laptops are intended as fashion accessories - they're not meant to be used for daily work, and (as above) always have a lot of other problems.

YOU WANT AN INTEL CORE i5-EQUIVALENT-OR-BETTER PROCESSOR - This isn't as big a deal as the RAM or SSD, but i3 processors slow down a lot of stuff.

YOU PROBABLY NEED A CD DRIVE - Many recent laptops don't have CD drives, but there are going to be times when you need them. (If necessary, you can buy a USB CD drive.)

BLUETOOTH ISN'T ACTUALLY VERY IMPORTANT - You can get a USB plugin if you need it, but you probably won't.

YOU DO NOT WANT A MACBOOK OR ANY OTHER APPLE PRODUCT - For too many reasons to list.

YOU DO NOT WANT A CHROMEBOOK - Even worse than MacBooks.

LINUX LAPTOPS ARE USUALLY FINE BUT YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO USE THEM - You'll end up needing to install Windows 10.

[notquiteaghost]

congrats on making a public inquiry on a line of interest situated in the middle of a venn diagram of like four things i've been thinking about a lot lately, your prize is this ask that is so long that in the time spent writing it and checking info someone less annoying may have directed you to some of it! this is all like easy enough to google but just in case it feels less uuhh to have someone with an approximate knowledge on some things offer you some pointers: here are some pointers

(i AM ALSO a thousands of CD's type of guy, but i've not done any big digital management of them since the last time i was regularly using ipods in the 2000s, n i am kinda Prepping for big digital management around my current standing main hyperfixation (participants of a season of an old korean idol reality competition show, a collection of Too Many Gotdamn People who have made Too Much Gotdamn Music) but i don't actually currently own a lot of the physical media there, so none of this are pointer from like. oh here is a workflow i am using etc, but)

answers to your two questions are 1) file sizes really depend on lots of factors but rule of thumb is that in a collection of 'normal song' mp3 file size averages out to 5-7MB a song, and a 3-4min mp3 file being >10MB is surprising

and 2) re: storage prices, 1TB (~1,000,000MB, so probably ~166,666MB 3min mp3's) in external harddrive will run at about £50 in western digital brands atm (western digital is what i've been occasionally looking at for my data management thing bc i've seen it mentioned specifically as more reliable than seagate, which i have had issues with; anecdotally, my mum's WD elements has lasted her about a year longer than her seagates kick the bucket). prices atm on curry's stack up at £80 for 2TB, £108 for 4TB, £180 for 8TB

refurbished is an option when it's 'rectified' and sold by the company itself; for WD, those prices atm stack up at £30 for 1TB, £35 for 2TB, £55-60 for 4TB (their page for these are https://www.westerndigital.com/en-gb/products/recertified) (i do not know enough about this area and would wanna look up specific reviews on a company's rectifying track record before purchasing myself, so obv do the same)

answers to questions you DID NOT ask but may have later on if you do set out on the CD Digitization Project that i have answered preemptively bc i am ANNOYING:

tagging music with correct info is often the most time-consuming part of this shit, so a tagger is your friend. the musicbrainz database should have a lot of stuff covered, so their tagger picard might well do (https://picard.musicbrainz.org/, also has some good plugins for like formating multi-disc albums etc if you wanna scan through those), but tagscanner (https://www.xdlab.ru/en/index.htm) can also pull from discogs if needed, though you may still need a discogs account + to make an api key do use that

i was like. spike will probably appreciate it if i provided ways in which their dad could still be autistic about music in a digital format, but i'm having a hard time pulling up music players that meet my vision / make it clear if they do re: you can see cd booklet, and also this info seems to not typically be in databases. i'll carry on looking for players in this area bc i ALSO want this, but suggested desktop windows players other than windows media player / grooveshark / vlc (which are all fine, but imo none are the most intuitive for regular heavy listening) are my best friend foobar2000 (https://www.foobar2000.org/, also has a tagger that pulls from musicbrainz and maybe discogs?), musicbee (https://getmusicbee.com/, tagger plugins available), and aimp (https://www.aimp.ru/); deadbeef (https://deadbeef.sourceforge.io/) is created more to get your hands into with the technical stuff, but it's got custom metadata fields. really after you've looked to see if you think your dad would want a particular feature, unless space is a major consideration then it is just well what looks nicest.

file backup! backblaze (https://www.backblaze.com/) allows an external hard drive to be added in an image backup of a machine, which is the only good way to do a (pseudo-)sync backup without paying for cloud subscription or setting up a NAS etc; at $70/year it is obviously A Cost but way less than premium cloud drive subscription, so if it feels useful to know,

if the NAS mention / video at the end of that post wrt turning an old computer or laptop into a media server (so thing that is plugged into a wall that has files on it + a media player --> other computers / phones / etc on the same network (which can be outside the home too) can connect to that player and files) was interesting lmk bc i've also been looking into that a lot mostly as like, storage nerd aspirations, it's just a whole other thing that's irrelevant if you're more interested in just bunging stuff on an external drive (i've send this as an ask with the intent for you to keep it On File, so sent me another or a dm to lmk!)

you are not at ALL annoying you are a godsend!!!!

the thing abt my father is he is actually better at tech stuff than me (he ran his school's website & also michael's website, in the 00s, when that meant he built them from scratch) (he's still a little bitter abt his school outsourcing their website to whatever service every school uses nowadays. he used to add little falling snowflakes in the winter n april fools jokes n such), so yes i was very much anticipating saying to him like. find a backup storage method you like and i will do the legwork of actually ripping n sorting everything

i did NOT know taggers even existed but holy shit yes i will definitely need one. i do not anticipate him ever actually getting rid of his physical copies – smth he has already done is buy a ton of plastic wallets n move the CDs & booklets into them so instead of ur standard plastic jewel case taking up all that space it's effectively as thin as the actual CD – & also he no longer has a computer (i do not get this decision either. he just uses his phone????) so i doubt he'll need music player software. my thought is really 'he needs backups spare CDs and a CD writer so if any die they can be replaced'

however i will definitely look into the music player software, and maybe also forward this info to my brother (if it's even news to him, he's the kind of music autistic who has a £200 pair of headphones). thank you SO much <3

edit: just saw ur second ask n shdgdhd yeah i am gonna bookmark this post, my askbox is a pit things vanish into forever

[saltedpeppermintmocha]

into the night (bakugou x reader) - Chapter 1/?

Summary:

You were born to die.

It is a fact you’ve known since your quirk first manifested, and one you have been denying for just as long. You refuse your supposed fate and try to live the best life you can while remaining undetected.

But maybe fate has another plan. A chance encounter on a mountainside changes your life forever.

MATURE : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+

You were born to die.

It is a fact you’ve known since your quirk first manifested, and one you have been denying for just as long. You don’t want to die. Not now, not when there are so many things you haven’t done. So many views you haven't seen.

You pull yourself up some ragged rocks, muscles working harder than they have in months to successfully drag your body up. The small rock ledge isn’t close to the top of the mountain, but it’s a good stopping point for today. You look up at the snowy expanse still ahead of you, the sun leaving long shadows along the white and grey exterior, and can’t help but smile. No, you don’t want to die.

Sitting back, you let yourself breathe and watch the top. An old memory flashes in your mind, the first time you hiked to the top with Dad. You had been so little, and so proud of yourself despite Dad having carried you through the most difficult parts. You screamed so loudly at the top, trying to tell the entire village that you made it. Dad had only been able to quiet you by saying that you could “wake up” the volcano with your screams.

The memory makes you smile. There weren’t many good times in your life right after your quirk manifested, but Mount Yotei had been a part of almost all of them. You have missed the mountain since moving to the city. Sapporo might not be that far, but you haven’t been able to make your way home often enough. Being on-call meant that leaving the city even for the few hours it took to get to the village was almost impossible, let alone actually making the long trip up.

You breathe in the crisp autumn air and reach for your pack, grabbing some water and a granola bar. You don’t bring much in terms of food with you, careful of attracting the wildlife during this season, but this will do. Munching happily, your eyes don’t leave the top of the mountain. You will get back up there soon.

It feels like only a few minutes before you have to begin the trek back down. You had started the climb too late in the day to actually make it too far up, or to relax too much, but you couldn't resist the call of the mountain when you saw it on your drive up. Dad could wait, he’d understand. You slide carefully down the rocky ledge and begin your walk back down. The trail you  are using is rough, with roots and rocks sticking out all over the place. It is not a tourist trail, but the one used by locals the most.

Something moves in the distance.

You startle, on edge immediately. Your hand reaches down for the bear spray connected to your belt, fingers ready to release it from the clip at a moment's notice. Damn, you knew you stayed out a bit too late, pushed it a bit too much.

But it’s not a bear that emerges from the bushes. It’s a man. Equally as startling, really, as the tourist season has been well and over for a few months now. You feel the tension release from your body a bit, but not completely. People can be just as dangerous as animals, you see that every day at work. The man pauses too, although he does not look surprised to see you.

Your first thought at seeing him is that he is definitely not dressed to be out on the mountain. His clothes are dark and inappropriate for the altitude level: a long-sleeved shirt and baggy pants. At least he seems to be wearing boots. You don’t see any bag, no protection items, no water or food, nothing on him. It was something you would see on a casual hike around the bottom of the mountain, not this far up.

The more you look at the man, the more you realize that he is, well, really damn good looking. The man, probably around your age if you had to guess, is tall and built for power. He has spikey ash blonde hair and a handsome face that was...slowly turning angrier as you stared at him. Shit, okay. You should probably stop that then. You force your gaze away, looking down at your feet as you continue your descent down the steep terrain. Your hand fiddles with the bear spray, a cation brought on by city life. Just in case.

It only takes a moment before you pass him, each silently headed in opposite directions across the mountain. You bite your lip, thoughts focused on the other hiker. Why is he up so high on the mountain dressed like that? It's completely irresponsible, dangerous. The times you had been on the mountain after this late had been calculated and in dedicated areas where people knew to find you. You had protection from the elements and animals. It had never been this late in the year. The thoughts nag at the back of your head. Maybe it is a feeling of politeness towards a fellow hiker, or maybe it's just the want to not have the local police up on the mountain tomorrow over a dead body, but you stop in your tracks.

Fuck it.

“Hey, um, it’s pretty late.” You call out, turning around to the man.

“Hah?!” He pauses, turning his head just enough to look at you out of the corner of his eye. A shiver runs down your back.

“I’m just saying that you should probably begin to head down. The mountain gets much more dangerous after sunset. Oh!” You reach around to your backpack, hand rummaging around until you grasp a familiar can. “Especially the bears. They’ll start hibernating soon so they’re more aggressive than normal.” No response. Okay.  Maybe a peace offering. “I don't see any bear spray on you. You can take mine, I have extra.”

You give a polite smile and hold it out with your hand, prepared to throw it up to him if necessary. For a moment he just stares at you, eyebrows furrowed. Then he turns away with a small grunt, continuing his walk up the mountain. Your smile falls as your mouth opens in shock. Is he just...going to leave you standing here holding out the bear spray like a damned fool? Without saying anything?!

You watch him walk away, hand clutching harder at the can as your anger rises. Eventually, you lower your hand, shoving the spray roughly back in your pack. You grumble angrily to yourself and turn around, stomping harsher than normal down the path.

Okay, so he’s an asshole then.

Still, completely rude or not, you can’t help but be a bit worried. You make good time down to the bottom of the mountain and trek your way through the forest to the street you parked your car on. The sun has completely set by the time you turn on your engine and drive away.

Well, you tried to warn him. If something happens, it’s not your fault. Right? Right.

With a groan, you pop a rock CD into your stereo and turn it on full blast. Anything to distract you from that nagging feeling in your gut. Makkari isn’t too far from the mountain, so that feeling hasn’t completely gone away by the time you pull into your childhood home. Your dad though, sitting on the front step reading a book, does the job. You smile and turn off the engine.

The rest of the night goes by quickly, as both of you have a lot to say to each other. Dinner is a relatively calm affair, and you take a bath before heading to bed. The bed is much smaller and harder than the nice one you splurged on in your apartment, but being in it brings a sense of nostalgia and comfort that only a childhood bedroom can have. Dad hasn’t changed a thing since you left.

You sit on the bed, pulling your hair into a comfortable do for sleep, when your eyes catch the outline of the mountain in the distance from your window. You sigh, sending a quick wish that he made it alright, before sliding under the covers and passing out.

You wake up to sounds from downstairs. For a brief moment, you are confused, as you have been blessed with an apartment with thicker walls than normal, but then you remember. You stretch in bed and smile. It has been a while since you have had the opportunity to sleep in. Why do people rarely get in trouble during normal business hours?

Finally forcing yourself out of bed, you wander to the bathroom before heading downstairs in your pajamas. The smell of breakfast is already making your stomach growl.

“Get dressed.” His voice echoes through the house.

“But- how- you’re not even looking!” You protest, feet pausing on the stairs. “How do you even know?!”

“I always know.”

Ugh. “Such a Dad answer.” You grumble, turning to head back upstairs. You’re a grown adult, if you want to wear pajamas to breakfast you will. Not that you would say that to him though. Nope. Not going to die on that hill today.

You put a little more effort into your appearance this time, dressing and putting your hair into a casual do before heading back downstairs. Dad, already fully dressed, gives you a look but says nothing. You stick out your tongue at his back, feeling like a teenager again. You sit down at your usual chair as he begins to set the table.

The breakfast you ate regularly as a kid but haven’t been really able to replicate successfully since moving out gets placed down in front of you. You wait for Dad to be sitting down too before grabbing pieces for yourself. For a brief, glorious moment, you are both silent.

“So, have you met anyone?”

And it's over. You swallow your food, looking carefully away.  “I meet lots of people. It’s a big city.”

You can practically feel his eyes stare into you. “You know what I mean.”

With a breath, you put down your utensils. “Dad, we go over this every time we talk. No, I’m not seeing anyone. Can we stop discussing this now?

“Is it because of-”

“No! It isn’t because of him.” You interrupt, looking him straight in the eye.“Why does it matter? I can be happy on my own.”

“I just...want you to be taken care of and protected.” Dad finally looks away. “I need you to be safe.”

“Dad, I don’t need someone to protect me.” You sigh. “I can protect myself, you know? I’m a big girl.”

You watch his reaction, but he doesn’t say anything. His eyes flicker over behind your head, to the picture on the wall you know he is staring at. It tugs at your heart. “Move back to Makkari?” His voice is quieter now.

It’s an argument you’ve had countless times before over the phone. When you first moved to Sapporo he asked you almost every day. Luckily, it isn’t that bad anymore, but you can still rely on a call anytime a villain is even close to Hokkaido.

“No.” You shake your head, catching his eyes as he looks back. “I have my job, my friends, and my life in Sapporo. I love you Dad, but I can’t live here.”

“You could be happy here.” He insists. “There are no villain attacks. No heroes.” His eyes flicker back over your shoulder. “You can be safe.”

“Nobody is safe anywhere Dad.” You sit back, frustration draining. “We could die any day. I don’t want to live my life in fear. That is not a life.” The flinch in his shoulders makes a bit of guilt dig into your stomach. It was a low blow, but you were not going to let this escalate. Not this time. Not here.

You finish your breakfast in silence, both in thought. While he gets the sink ready to wash, you gather up the dishes. It almost feels like you never left. You grab the drying cloth and get ready to help dry. While waiting, you glance out the window. The mountain looms ahead, big and beautiful as normal. You can’t wait to get another crack at it. Not today, probably, but soon.

Wait. The mountain.

“Oh.” You turn to your Dad. “Is there anyone new in the village?”

“A resident?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Anyone, really.”

Dad hums in thought for a moment before passing you a plate. “I believe Tanaka said he saw a guest at Fuccanchi. Why?”

“I saw someone on the mountain yesterday.” You explain, leaving out the part of you actually climbing up alone. “It was late, so I stopped the car and tried to warn him not to be out late. He still went in. I’m a bit worried.”

“It is late in the season to be going up the mountain.” Dad mused. “We can ask Tanaka when we’re in the village.” He hands you another plate. You grab it and begin drying.

“Okay.”  

---

NOTE: I will be posting these on tumblr approximately a week after the chapters are posted on Ao3 (we are currently at chapter 7, so I will be quicker with these ones). When caught up, Ao3 will be approximately one chapter ahead. 

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MustangSally

MustangSally has 33 stories at Gossamer. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard of at least one of them, Iolokus, since it’s an X-Files fanfic classic. All her fics hit big and are well worth your time. I’ve recced some of my favorites here before, including And Dance by the Light of the Moon, All the Children are Insane, and Iolokus. Big thanks to MustangSally for doing this interview.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. Yes, because life has moved on since the early nineties and the characters and the fans are in vastly different places now. Our current tech would make the premise of the X-Files impossible. No, because of the longevity of some of the Star Trek TOS work (there’s an archive of hard copy fanzines at the University of Iowa). Top-drawer authors started out in TOS fandom.

I’m just greatly saddened that my physical body is showing wear and tear while the fic doesn’t. Fic gets to stay smooth-skinned and muscular, captured at the peak of perfection.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

At the risk of sounding atrociously trite, I think of the friends I made.  I met some very remarkable women that I’ve been able to stay friends with online for over twenty-five years.  We may have moved to Facebook and post entirely too much about our pets and which of our body parts has sagged this week, but we’re friends.  It’s a furiously funny, feminist, and well-educated group of women with jobs in the highest levels of academia, finance, communications, and media.  I’m amused by the fact that if I have a question about how a virus replicates, I can ask a PhD I’ve been drunk with in Las Vegas.

Back in the day, I had a job that sent me traveling around major cities in the US and UK. I could post on a message board and within ten minutes there were people I could go out for dinner and drinks with. We already knew we had something we could talk about for at least a couple of hours. Additionally, most of these people were women so there was an added level of security. Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Well, it was mostly atxc and the Yahoo! groups mailing lists that spiraled out into Geocities sites and, eventually, LiveJournal. The amusing thing is that getting in on the ground floor of social media and the Internet has helped me get jobs!  When I look at a new piece of software, I think, ‘this is hella easier than uploading to Geocities.’  We had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, on dial-up, fighting off dinosaurs with our AOL CDs while writing HTML code. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

DO NOT FEED THE TROLLS.

The past four years in politics have basically been the ugliest online kerfuffle the world has ever seen. I survived the Shipper Wars of ’96 and I thought those were brutal, but that was NOTHING. The only way to win an argument online is to not have the argument at all. Arguing with a troll is like mudwrestling a pig: You both get filthy and only the pig is happy.

Also, READ THE FUCKING TERMS OF SERVICE.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had the most terrible straight-girl crush on Scully. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to BE her.  I wanted to order Chinese food and paint each other’s nails and talk about bones.  Scully and Princess Leia and I could all just hang out poolside with hot and cold running waiters and poolboys, drink margaritas, and bitch about how unfair it all was – if the stupid men would just get OUT OF THE WAY AND LET US DO OUR JOBS, the world would be so much better. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

This question is really about Iolokus, isn’t it?  You can’t fool me. [Lilydale note: I can neither confirm nor deny the motivation for this question, but I cannot complain about the answer.]

Simply put, I was enraged. The moment it was revealed that Scully’s ova had been used in experimentation, I lost my feminist mind. It was the most obscene defilement imaginable.  Scully wasn’t nearly as angry as I was.  What I thought needed to happen was for Scully to become a fiery force of vengeance against the MEN who had done this to her.  Clearly, I was not going to get that level of satisfaction from the show, as I was imagining Kali-like carnage on a global scale. I emailed RivkaT (whom I did not know well at that point) with a proposition that we work together. Strangely enough, we didn’t meet face to face until we were well into the project, but we did talk on the phone quite a bit. The rules were simple – everyone had to be punished in truly horrific ways, and at some point, we had to see if we could write a car chase (only because that seemed impossible).  Then it basically turned into a very twisted game of chicken to see who could be the most outrageous in terms of killing people off or writing really horrific things that fit within the structure of the narrative.  I did, in the end, write the car chase, but RivkaT one-upped me by throwing in a helicopter (a FOX News helicopter, at that).  

Really, RivkaT?  A helicopter? What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? I am terribly proud of what I wrote, pleased that it brought pain and pleasure in equal amount to people, and, again, thrilled by the people I became friends with. I admit that I stopped watching the show when Scully announced her pregnancy.  I could only see a long jump over a shark tank for the rest of the series. I haven’t watched the new episodes, either.  It is complete in my mind and doesn’t need to be continued.  I wouldn’t say no to having a reunion with some of my fic friends, although we’re still chatting online like everyone does.   Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Rivka and I wrote in the Buffy fandom for a few years, but then we moved on to real adult jobs that left absolutely no time for me to write. I’m in education, and I regularly sweat blood for fear that someone is going to find my old fic. The Buffy people were fun; there was a certain *shininess* to them that I really enjoyed. The X-men authors were just batshit and delightful, and some amazing stuff came out of Marvel fandom, particularly in the Thor/Loki and Steve/Bucky subgenres. I’ve learned to appreciate a good coffee shop AU and one famous Erik/Charles fic where all the main characters are crabs. Seriously, crabs—it’s hysterical. [Lilydale note: Other Crabs Cannot Be Trusted by groovyphilia currently has almost 2,500 kudos at AO3.]

Every few years, I’ll have a student try to explain to me what fandom is and I just smirk. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? No. Not really. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I fell into an X-Men hole a few years back and had a great old time wallowing in the Cherik muck, and there was a flirtation with BBC Sherlock as well. Strangely enough, I became interested in A/B/O fics only because of what they were saying about the role of women in our society. The limitations on the male omegas seem absurd and then you realize those are the same limitations put on women all. the. time.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

RivkaT very nicely formatted everything and put it up on AO3. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I will always be stupidly proud of how shocked and horrified people were by Iolokus. The truth of the matter is that Iolokus has Greek drama at its core. Scully is Medea, and the entire story is lousy with “blood on the threshing floor” and Dionysian rites. The everyday is subverted into horror, and wives and daughters will tear men limb from limb like the Maenads. Since I was ultimately disappointed with what Chris Carter did with the entire show, that approach seemed appropriate.

At a certain level, all fic is corrective fic.  Like critic Anne Jamison said, “Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.”  And because fic has fallen so much into women’s sphere, a pure form of correction is not just the death of the author but the MURDER, a new creation springing up from the spilled blood like Cadmus sowing dragon’s teeth.

Okay, that’s a bit much. Maybe I should just take myself back to the isle of Goth Amazons or something. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I had to write a self-evaluation and a reflection on pedagogy today. If that’s not fiction, I don’t know what the fuck is.

All my creativity is caught up in trying to pretend to be a normal middle-aged white woman so no one knows I am really a lizard.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Keep writing, keep reading, keep fighting the commercialization of narratives. As things grow more and more commodified, all our dreams and desires reduced to tchotchkes made in China, it’s a revolutionary act to separate your work from the marketplace. Be bold, take chances, turn the trope on its ear and kick it in the ass. Take everything the creators have done to make a work palatable to the unwashed masses and set it on fire.

Be subversive.

Be mean.

Have a great fucking time.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 2, 2021)