#Tender Estimation

[bidkon]

Common Mistakes in Cost Estimation and How to Avoid Them

Thus, cost estimation forms an important part of every construction project process and happens to be its major success determinant. Therefore, the aspect of cost estimation is relevant in budgeting and planning, not allowing the aspect of financial consumption to shoot up. These estimations bring about common mistakes that make a huge discrepancy in the reliable estimate of the costs which are to rise. The learning related to these mistakes and the know-how to avoid them is quite important for construction project management firms, cost consultants, and quantity surveyors. 

Underestimating Project Scope

The most common mistake in estimating cost is when there is an underestimated project scope. This usually happens because of ineffective project planning where the requirements of the project have not been well understood. Poorly estimated scope results in delays, cost overruns, and poor-quality work. Elaborate project planning and discussion with stakeholders should pave the way for capturing all facets of a project. Furthermore, engaging the services of construction project management firms will also substantiate definition of scope accurately, otherwise the scope of a project in terms of tender cost estimation will miss out on several elements.

Ignorance of Market Conditions

Ignorant of Market Conditions. Prices of materials, labour, and equipment are bound to fluctuate for a number of reasons—economic scenarios, changes in source of supply, and fluctuations in demand for material, among others. Ignoring these would lead to serious overruns with variances between estimation and actual cost. In order to minimise these risks, the cost consultant shall ensure keeping abreast with market trends in the price level and shall provide for contingencies with all material prices possibly changing within the estimate. Review and update cost estimates on a regular basis in order to reflect prevailing conditions in the market to ensure that it does not lose its accuracy over time.

Poor Risk Management

Poor risk management is another critical cost estimation predicament. Construction projects are prone to being inherently risky in nature, such as risks from weather, unforeseen site conditions, and regulatory changes. In case they are not properly catered for, they may ultimately lead to high cost overruns. Whatever the case, a quantity surveyor should be able to carry out a comprehensive risk assessment and include appropriate contingencies in his cost estimate. The more the risks are identified early and planned for in advance, the more reliable and resilient the cost estimate that the construction project management firm will establish.

Being Negligent About Indirect Costs

Many estimators only consider direct costs like material and labour costs, and most of the time, they skip indirect costs. Examples of indirect costs are those associated with project management, permits, insurance, and overhead. Ignoring such costs during estimating the same may cause underestimation. Therefore, it should be detailed either through direct or indirect costs. Involvement of professional cost consultants with relevant experience will ensure the fact that necessary costs have been taken on board and the cost estimate is made reliable and accurate.

Conclusion

Accurate prediction of cost is important in construction. Construction project management firms, cost consultants, and quantity surveyors can enhance their estimate reliability by observing principles that prevent the usual mistakes in underestimation of project scope, non-consideration of market conditions, improper risk management, and neglecting indirect costs. Adequate planning, continuous market study, effective risk evaluation, and detailed cost breakdown are the major strategies to be followed to enhance the practices regarding cost estimation. This is apart from assisting in delivering projects on budget; they would also help in the overall efficiency and profitability of construction endeavours.

[twilight-zoned-out]

Things I noticed about The Great Gatsby that might help put the book in perspective:

-It takes place during Prohibition. Although the book is constantly filled with people drinking, the making and selling of alcohol was technically illegal and had been since 1920.

(Note: this is also why everyone gets mad at Daisy when she wants mint julep when they get to the hotel. Unless they smuggle in alcohol from home, it’s a ridiculous thing to ask.)

-1920′s humor included absurdism and wit, which combined humor and intelligence or ‘sharp’ intelligence. Daisy makes witty comments throughout the book. When she talks about Ferdie in a ridiculous way and Nick continues the conversation as if he thinks she is being serious, they are essentially joking with each other in the conventional way of the period.

-Nick is older than Tom, Daisy, and Jordan. He is not only an outsider in terms of location and wealth, but in terms of a (slightly) older culture looking in on the newer generation. When Nick leaves Jordan with the comment that he is “5 years too old to lie to [himself] and call it honor,” his insult carries extra weight because he is saying she is too young to mature herself enough for a reasonable conversation.

-It takes place after World War I, during a time when the US aggressively pursued an isolationist stance. The US did not want to become involved in any overseas wars. Most of the main characters in the book served in some way during World War I. 

(Note: This story was written before Germany began to loom as a threat in the years before World War II. When Nick calls the deaths at Gatsby’s mansion a Holocaust, it did not have the same connotation it has today.)

[edits made]

[darksadmirer]

Main blog: @markle-sparklez.

TW/CW FOR: flashing, eyestrain, horror, body horror, blood, gore, death, scopophobia, body image, and mayhaps smoking (due to the nature of fanarts I reblogged).

SFW.

Will do 95% reblogs, 5% original posts.

Spam reblogs are OK and heavily encouraged.

Mostly Darkiplier content alongside Celine and Damien, but sometimes Wilford, Anti, and other Egos may slip up from time to time (due to they're in the same fanarts with Dark).

May accidentally reblog the same posts again either because I love them or because I keep looking for more Darkiplier content and didn't notice I have reblogged them in the past.

[ Heh. You're welcome. ;) ]

Feel free to ask.

If I reblogged random posts that are nowhere near Dark or Mark and rather just random Tumblr posts, do not fear. I forgot to switch my account to main sometimes and will notice them, so don't worry.

enjoy your stay.

recommended tags worth to check down below:

[pejasurveying1]

Discover how PEJA Surveying's Bill of Quantities services can enhance your construction project's efficiency. Our meticulously prepared BoQs ensure accurate cost management and effective tender processes, facilitating better budget control and competitive bidding. With our expert services, we provide comprehensive support throughout your project's lifecycle, helping you maintain quality and cost-effectiveness. Contact us today to benefit from our professional quantity surveying expertise.

[bidartpro]

Streamline Your Projects with BidArtPro Top Construction Bid Management Software of 2023

Do you want to avoid juggling multiple construction bids, paperwork, and endless spreadsheets? BidArtPro is here to transform your project management experience. In the fast-paced construction world, time is money, and efficiency is paramount. That's why BidArtPro has earned its reputation as the top construction bid management software of 2023.

1. A Comprehensive Solution for Contractors:

BidArtPro offers a comprehensive suite of tools designed to simplify and optimize every step of the bid management process. From creating detailed project estimates to tracking subcontractor bids, this software is the ultimate companion for contractors looking to stay ahead in a competitive market.

2. User-Friendly Interface for Easy Navigation:

One of the standout features of BidArtPro is its intuitive and user-friendly interface. You can be a tech expert to navigate the software smoothly. BidArtPro ensures that even novice users can quickly get up to speed and start streamlining their projects from day one.

3. Real-Time Collaboration and Communication:

BidArtPro understands the importance of effective communication in construction projects. With its real-time collaboration features, you can effortlessly connect with team members, subcontractors, and clients. This keeps everyone participating in the project informed, reducing the possibility of miscommunications and delays.

4. Accurate Cost Estimation for Precise Bidding:

To provide accurate and detailed project bids, BidArtPro's advanced cost estimation module considers various factors, such as labour, materials, and overhead costs. Say goodbye to underestimating or overestimating costs – BidArtPro helps you strike the perfect balance to win more bids and boost your profitability.

5. Streamlined Document Management:

Bid preparation involves handling numerous documents and files. BidArtPro simplifies this process with its centralized document management system. Easily store, organize, and access all your project-related documents, ensuring you save time searching for crucial information.

6. Powerful Analytics for Informed Decisions:

Data-driven decisions are the cornerstone of successful construction projects. BidArtPro's powerful analytics tools provide valuable insights into your bidding history, performance metrics, and trends. With this information at your fingertips, you can make informed decisions to enhance your bidding strategies and win more projects.

7. Mobile App for On-the-Go Access:

In the construction industry, being on-site is common, and BidArtPro understands this. With its mobile app, you can access your project data, communicate with your team, and manage bids from anywhere. This ensures you take advantage of every opportunity, even while you're not at your desk.

BidArtPro is the ultimate solution for contractors who aim to streamline their project management and bidding processes. With its user-friendly interface, real-time collaboration features, accurate cost estimation, and powerful analytics, it's no wonder BidArtPro has earned the title of the top construction bid management software of 2023. So, don't wait any longer – elevate your construction business with BidArtPro and watch your projects soar to new heights of success.

[aestheticbf]

When it comes to façade projects, it's important to have a team that can handle everything from start to finish. At Aesthetic Building and Facades, we provide a complete package of services, including estimation, tendering, procurement, site installation, and final handover.

We'll work with you every step of the way to ensure that your building's exterior is everything you want it to be. Call us on 📞 02 9622 2455

[sayruq]

unicef estimates that a thousand children in Gaza have become amputees since the conflict began in October. “This is the biggest cohort of pediatric amputees in history,” Ghassan Abu-Sittah, a London-based plastic-and-reconstructive surgeon who specializes in pediatric trauma, told me recently. I met him in the waiting room of his plastic-surgery clinic on London’s Harley Street, and we walked to a nearby pub for a glass of water. Abu-Sittah, a fifty-four-year-old British Palestinian with an angular face and tender, deep-set eyes, has treated child survivors of war for the past thirty years in Iraq, Yemen, Syria, and elsewhere. Abu-Sittah is the author of “The War Injured Child,” the first medical textbook on the subject, which was published last May. In October and November, he spent forty-three days in Gaza, conducting emergency surgeries with Doctors Without Borders. He shuttled between two hospitals: Al-Shifa and Al-Ahli, which is also known as the Baptist hospital. The casualty rate was so high that, during some intense periods, he didn’t leave the operating room for three days. “It felt like a scene from an American Civil War movie,” he said. In Gaza, Abu-Sittah was performing as many as six amputations a day. “Sometimes you have no other medical option,” he explained. “The Israelis had surrounded the blood bank, so we couldn’t do transfusions. If a limb was bleeding profusely, we had to amputate.” The dearth of basic medical supplies, owing to blockades, also contributed to the number of amputations. Without the ability to irrigate a wound immediately in an operating room, infection and gangrene often set in. “Every war wound is considered dirty,” Karin Huster, a nurse who leads medical teams in Gaza for Doctors Without Borders, told me. “It means that many get a ticket to the operating room.” To mark the gravity of these procedures, and to mourn, Abu-Sittah and other medical staff placed the severed limbs of children in small cardboard boxes. They labelled the boxes with masking tape, on which they wrote a name and body part, and buried them. At the pub, he showed me a photograph he’d taken of one such box, which read, “Salahadin, Foot.” Some wounded children were too young to know their own names, he added, telling the story of an amputee who’d been pulled from rubble as the sole survivor of an attack.

[caddcentreindoressroad]

B.Tech fresher or Diploma with 2years exp mechanical or electrical can apply before 6th Nov 2022. Send your cv to mp.sapnasangeeta@caddcentre.com Or whatsapp to 8518832525 #autocad #draftsman #production #quality #qualitycontrol #estimation #costing #tendering #career #job #freshers #mechanical #electrical #engineering #engineers #apply #applynow #cv #resume #vacances (at Indore, India) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ckf7DL1PfuH/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[tenebrous-if]

LINKS:

🜲 Play the Game

Estimated Release: N/A

🜲 FAQ

🜲 Pinterest

🜲 Character Descriptions

🜲 Family Descriptions

🜲 Map of Arvandor

🜲 Genre(s): Fantasy, Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, and Action/Adventure.

🜲 Rating: Tenebrous is an 18+ Fantasy IF set within the mythical world of Arvandor.

The Kingdom of Aetheria, within the world of Arvandor, is a nation ripe with history. King Lysander du Aetheria rose up and led the fledgling Aetherian Army against The Forsaken One— Herald of the Abyssal Uprising— and came out victorious when everyone else had failed. With his victory, Lysander placed Aetheria as one of the key pillars of keeping Arvandor safe; allowing for peace to reign over the continent for centuries.

Peace, however, was never meant to last.

The Order of Netheron, Followers of The Forsaken One, had captured you at the tender age of fifteen, holding you captive for a decade within a tower only labeled as “The Spire”. All due to their wish of resurrecting their fallen deity— something that they believe could only be accomplished by using the blood of King Lysander’s descendants; it was a ritual that didn’t go as planned— one that did bring back their deity, but only for your eyes and ears only; the both of you attached to the other in a way that probably wasn’t intended.

And that’s how you spent the last decade of your life… Growing used to the presence that now appears whenever the time calls for it. It isn’t until your twenty-fifth year that you’re finally found and taken back to Aetheria, to everything you had long thought you’d lost.

Your time in the sun, however, was short-lived as the tidings of an even darker uprising was beginning to grow— one that threatens to demolish everything and everyone.

Can you figure out how to save your home?

🜲 Create your Aetherian Royal:

Name/Nickname

Gender [Male, Female, or Non-Binary]

Appearance

Hobbies

Personality [Mainly involving unique reactions to certain situations— the MC is semi-set in some ways]

🜲 Romance 1 of 4 potential love interests— each offering their own unique experience within the story and how the world at large will react to the burgeoning relationship.

🜲 Bond with your family after being apart for so long. They have missed you a great deal. [The MC is a middle child.]

🜲 Harness the magic that flows through your veins due to the gift of your blood.

🜲 Choose from a variety of skill sets that your MC may be able to acquire. [Note: This means you can choose something to specialize in, instead of having to constantly choose between being a diplomat or warrior. You can instead choose to be a swordsman while also focusing on the art of diplomacy.]

🜲 Build a codex from the various interactions that you can have throughout your story— from places, to people, to old legends that have tested the passage of time within Arvandor.

Astorian/Astoria du Aerilon: The Heir to Aerilon, and the person that was your betrothed from the time you were seven until your disappearance. Astorian/Astoria spent every winter with you, and you every summer with them, in hopes that a union between the both of you would bring your countries together. You remember many things from that time of your life: their warm laugh, brazen attitude, arrogant smirk, and their inability to stay still for long. Meeting them again? It simply proves how much can change in a decade. [Can choose to have been in an almost relationship with them or still rivals.]

William/Wilhelmina du Arvandor: A recent addition to the Holy Order, who has an iron-clad need to help and be of assistance to anyone that may require it. Being a Paladin has been something they’ve strived towards for the last eight years of their life; training being second to nothing. It’s simply a mere coincidence, or the Divine’s Will, that their first major mission was to rid Arvandor of the last dregs of Netheron… A mission that brought them to The Spire, with a small band of warriors, to carry out that very task— wherein they find the Lost Heir of Aetheria. You.

Gabriel/Gabrielle Adair: Being renowned within the arcane arts, having achieved the rank of High Mage within the Aetherian Institute of Magic, it’s of little surprise that the royal family of Aetheria would call on someone with their skill set— if it weren’t for the scandal that still plagues them. You’re not sure what could have been so bad that would force them to retreat within themself like they have, especially if your parents had seen them fit enough to tutor you, but it’s obviously something that weighs heavily upon them. Will it be possible to wrangle out the secrets of their past when you’re still trying to figure out your own gift?

Ilyran/Ilyria Caelestis: The Forsaken One, an individual that’s visible only to your eyes from a ritual gone wrong. There isn’t much you can glean from them, after all you can only take what they say with a grain of salt, but the shadows that lurk within their eyes has nothing to do with the darkness that now lives within them. It’s hard sometimes to look at what they’ve become when you’ve seen what they were in Old Texts, when they weren’t the Forsaken One, weren’t the Divine’s Disgrace… When they were simply Ilyran/Ilyria Caelestis, High Priest/Priestess of the Holy Order.

[nicelytousled]

Steve's House From Hell

I'm bastardising @mcmansionhell's carefully honed craft to make fun of Steve's house from Stranger Things. If you like making fun of far more ridiculous houses and learning about architecture along the way give them a follow!

The Harrington's house is actually in Atlana. 8253 Carlton Road, Riverdale to be specific. With that in mind, lets get into the epic highs and lows of this property.

FRONT EXTERIOR

Built in 1976 when Steve was the tender age of ten, this grey hunk of bricks boasts 4 beds, 5 baths, 2 acres of land, and of course the heated pool. These photos are a mix of shots from the show and pics taken when the property was last sold in 2009.

FOYER

There isn't physically a chandelier in the Harrington's foyer but spiritually there is.

MAIN ROOM

I think Steve's Plaid RoomTM was a set built separatley from the house? Unless that balcony bit has been renovated since 2009.

POOL ADMIRATION ROOM

Why this room has two giant empty doorframes into the main room I don't know. Otherwise it's kinda cosy!

A KITCHEN

I have no idea where this kitchen is in relation to any of the other rooms.

REAR EXTERIOR

(as someone who has zero garages I may have gotten emotional here)

I hope you enjoyed this foray into all the photos I could find of Steve's dumb rich people house! Worth an estimated $421,700 today, it's nowhere near the fanciest or most ridiculous McMansion out there. Nonetheless I hope this inspires you to include it's more nonsense features in your fics.

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

No thoughts, head empty except for…

The thought of werewolf!Simon asking you to put a collar on him.

CoD ML

Just imagine this rough-looking imposing figure awkwardly approaching you with a collar in his big scarred hands. His palms are marred with traces of all the fights he’s gotten into, but the worst of them betray he’s gone Feral.

Yet Simon tries so hard to stay with you as long as he can.

Despite the terrible craving to let the Wolf take over completely forevermore and vanish.

Before he hurts you in a way that wants to make him eat silver until his lungs rot with the stuff.

“Y/N?” For a moment he hesitates, but he knows it’s too late when your eyes fall on the thick black leather band lined with silver studs. “Collar me.”

“You sure you want that?” You’re more than aware how much pride your recently returned husband puts into being a Wolf. Moreover, collaring is a very intimate experience, almost on the same level as mating. It’s binding.

A level of commitment neither of you had expected him capable of. Yet, Simon craves it even more than the ring on his finger.

That’s what his human side wanted.

But the Wolf wants this.

Needs this.

“Yes.”

He picks you up and plops you on the counter, secretly pleased with the way your boobs bounce ever so slightly as you land on the surface. Also, he simply enjoys displaying his strength so he’s prone to sweeping you up whenever he feels like it.

Simon leans in to give you easier access to his neck. Eyes closed, he loses himself in the way your nimble fingers put the collar on. A low growl escapes him when he hears the click of the lock, the leather flat against his skin.

“I can take it off,” you offer, alarmed by the swift snarl that passes over his face.

“No. Just gotta get used to it yet.” Simon’s features soften as his calloused fingertips brush your cheek. It’s in moments like these, when he notices the sharp sting of anxiety in your scent, that he barely has the courage to touch you at all. “That’s all.”

His eyes wander to the empty pill box behind you. “Need to up the dose.”

“Ah,” you murmur. It’s all you can say, haunted by the visions of him hanging over the loo, sickly and pale. Unfortunately, there’s no other way to keep him here.

Either hope to remain human enough through ingesting wolfsbane mixed with silver only to vomit your guts out or go Feral and lose yourself to the Wolf.

“So it’s getting worse again.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the last estimate they gave you?”

For how much longer will you be here?

The thought hangs heavy in the air, haunting the silence in your kitchen.

For both your sakes, Simon ignores your question. As per usual whenever his remaining time comes up, the only kindness he can show you is carrying on casually. “I’ll drop by Johnny later. Get the proper prescription.”

“I’ll write a memo.” Lest he forgets.

As he tends to do often nowadays.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Simon takes your hand and hooks one of your fingers beneath his collar. Making use of your puzzlement, he cups your cheeks and gently presses his lips on yours in a tender kiss. “This means something. Fucking everything. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

In all his forms.

Ghost.

The Wolf.

Simon Riley.

[katerinaaqu]

So how old is Odysseus exactly?

A small Odysseus age analysis based on a description in the Iliad

Many make speculations of his age, me included. Interestingly we have several hints in both art and the scripts but is hard to pinpoint. In general Odysseus is considered old or one of the oldest generations among the poems.

In art he is always depicted bearded which is something only men in maturity have in ancient greek art (somewhere between the late 20s early 30s) and his beard is full indicating that he is at least in his 30s. Most art of his, ranges from the events of the Trojan war till his journey and the murder of the suitors. In all cases we see him having a full beard. So it is pretty hard to determine his age but we know he was at least 30 in the war making him at his final 40s or early 50s when he comes back home depending on interpretation.

In the Iliad in the 23rd rhapsody/book we have an interesting description by Antilochus

"And this one (Odysseus) is of an earlier/previous generation of earlier men; we call him "omogeronda" (early-old man, green old age); yet he is really hard to be competed against in speed (lit: his feet are troublesome to compete) by the Achaeans, except from Achilles"

For starters he clearly states that he is "one generation older" (προτέρης γενεής) but he also calls him with the interesting word "ωμογέρων" which means "raw old man" literally aka "not ripe old age". The word has two possible interpretations; one that he is a "green old man" aka he just began to grow older or to pass to old age and two "a vigorous and lively old man" 😉

Now it could be a tender nickname that they call him "old" but I think the first interpretation fits better to the description. So we know that Odysseus was already mature man when he entered the war (bearded=somewhere in his early 30s and above) and he spent 10 years in the war. We know that he is "one generation older".

The age of marriage differs in ancient greece (for example in 5th century BC Athens, 300 years after Homer's time and almost 1000 years after the time Trojan war took place, the age of marriage for men ideally was 30 years old when they had served their dues although it is unclear how often it was being done this way) but we are to expect that a man in his middle 20s was expected to have at least considered marriage if not already have a spouse and kids. So if Odysseus is "one generation older" on average he is around 20 years older than younger individuals (anywhere between 15-20 years could be closer) such as Diomedes or Antilochus here or Aias. Nestor who was considered an old man was in his 60s. He was still active on the field just not the same way as characters like Odysseus were.

Given the characterization "ωμογέρων" in the Odyssey and the description of him being a generation older than many young heroes I should calculate Odysseus is in the same age group as people like Agamemnon, making him older than other characters like Patroclus who was also generally older (closer to his early or even middle 30s if we assume that Achilles who was repeatedly said to be very young he was in his middle to final 20s during the war). That would make Odysseus a middle aged man and therefore closer in his 40s at the final year of the Trojan war.

My rough estimation is that he is in his early or mid-40s when this conversation takes place. He is middle-aged and yet he is vigorous, sportive and fast (so much so that only Achilles is said to be easily competing against him while most achaeans have hard time to), he is also strong given the many times his strength in spear, sword or bow were praised but at the same time he is obviously past the age of youth. That would make him in his early 50s at least when he arrives in Ithaca.

But what do you guys think? Agree or disagree let me know to the comments below! ^_^

[baiwu-jinji]

TGCF author's notes translation

@/camilikha on twitter kindly provided links to TGCF author's notes and I translated the ones I find informative and interesting. See translations below:

chapter 58 notes: The second book is all about the overconfident Xie Lian with delusions of grandeur and the tender little flower (mxtx means kid Hua Cheng) and their diaries of the downfall of Xianle. Word count is undecided, I'm never accurate at estimating word counts anyway. It's just like the xianxia I write doesn't fit into your regular xianxia, the royalty I write doesn't fit into your regular fictional depictions of royalty - just the outlandish made-up worlds and social customs in the author's imagination...

chapter 60 notes: If we put Qi Rong in a modern context, we could say that he has bipolar disorder.

chapter 72 notes: about the chapter title "To Meet You in the Mortal Realm; to Find Flowers Beneath the Rain" - eventually I feel that "To Meet You" is more romantic than "To Meet Someone". Just think about it, "meeting you" is one of the most romantic things in the world.

chapte 80 notes: Of course (HC) won't give (XL) a handjob or help him [...], but Huahua's sexual awakening starts with this incident... (XL is seriously obssessed with martial arts combat!)

chapter 88 notes: Xie Lian never gets tanned, I envy him... I finally reached this place - in a dilapidated temple, a god about to be forgotten and a believer who's still young - this is the first mental image I have about this story, which drove me to wrote the story. I'm the kind of person who'd make up a whole book just to get to write a certain passage...

chapter 119 notes: Actually Huahua is just being naughty and wants to joke around playing dead, who'd have thought...

chapter 123 notes: So Black Water made his appearance long ago, he's been hanging around before your eyes all along. Wind Master never knew the real Mingyi, it's always been the same person before him - and before you readers. (Black Water) officially recognized as Best Actor of this story! I've been holding it a secret for so long and so has he, now I can finally let it out.

chapter 141 notes: If you heat up Huahua in the kiln, he'll grow bigger~

chapter 175 notes: "Hua Cheng! Your diary! We've read it all!!!"

chapter 229 notes: Huahua low-key sucking up to the elderly to make a good impression

chapter 242 notes: Why do you like to spook yourselves? - why on earth would there be such plots as (XL) waiting for another 800 years - too long, impossible! Happy ending is around the corner!

SVSSS is my first work so it has some exceptions that I won't discuss here, but MDZS and TGCF both only have one main couple. I said this repeatedly in the author's notes when MDZS was being serialized and in other places. As for Mo Xuanyu, he is a little gay dude but he died at the beginning of the story so he doesn't count as a serious character...It's fine to have headcanons you like as long as you don't seperate the main couple. But for me personally, my taste leans towards having only one gay couple in the story, and I have no plans to write about another secondary couple. I'm stating this to avoid some unnecessary disputes.

XL is good at making pickled vegetables. Because pickled vegetables are needed with steamed bun and rice porridge, so XL became quite experienced after practicing for hundreds of years. Also you can just leave the pickled vegetable by itself most of the time and let it undergo chemical reaction. XL mostly fail because he get inventive.

XL and Mu Qing chose the same path of cultivation and are both Daoists. But Feng Xin never studied under a master at the Holy Royal Pavillion so he's not a Daoist and simply a plebeian martial god, so he doesn't need to observe the celibacy rules like XL and Mu Qing.

My passion for inventing new dishes (or rather weapons) cooked by Xie Lian is only slightly less than my passion for making Huahua change into new clothes

Huahua often turn into human forms, in which he has two eyes, so you guys can stop counting the number of his eyes.

In the setting of this story, if you want to be a god,you need to be a human hero first, which means you need to be the best of the best among humans. Only heaven officials who ascended are real heaven officials and belong in the Upper Court. How do you ascend? Firstly it depends on your personal ability, you have to be outstanding in some aspect (such as martial arts or literary talents) to enter the path of ascension. Secondly it depends on luck, if you're extremely lucky and a favourite of fate, and just picked up some rare secret guides (to ascension) or immortal pills by the roadside, that works too. Officials in the Middle Court are appointed, which means someone in the Heavenly Realm could promote you to that position. But Middle Court officials have the opportunity to become a bona fide Upper Court official too if they're capable enough.

Black Water indeed owes Hua Cheng a huge sum of money and is a very impoverished Calamity, seriously lowering the income standard of the Calamities (although there're only three of them). But his debt isn't completely due to eating too much. As for the money Black Water owes, it's an ancient debt - 40% is the cost of buying gifts for heaven officials of Upper Court and planting agents there (bribery!), 30% is maintenance fee for his territory and expenses on pet food, the rest 30% is food (for himself).

Talismans are probably the equivalent of the business cards (of heaven officials)... "Hello this is my consecrated talisman" = "hello this is my business card"

You can't get rid of ghostly essence (which XL is tainted with because he spends too much time with HC) simply by brushing your teeth with plain water...you need to use consecrated spell water (which is super bitter and weird).

The weapon forged by a heaven official is called fabao (literally "dharma treasure"); if it's a weapon forged by mortal Daoists and monks, it's called faqi (literally "dharma tool") - only after their ascension can their weapons be called fabao.

In my imagination, Xianle ia the kind of small ancient kingdom that's overall culturally Han, but has peculiar customs...although I feel like what I wrote on Xianle is mostly just peculiar hahahaha [facepalm] [beat myself up]

Not only are the forms, customs, cultures, and politics of countries in this story made-up, the kind of arcane stuff like occult sciences and philosophical values are all made-up. Although I did research but the records I consulted are too difficult to understand, so I just made things up on my own. Please bear with me If you're knowledgable in this sort of thing hahaha.

Puqi refers to water chestnut.

Look up "Blood-Soaked Fire Social" (xue she huo) if you're interested, it exists in real life and is very thrilling. What I wrote is different from the traditional festival, there're some made-up elements to make it more exciting

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, allusions to suicide, morning sickness.

A/N: Okay, I screwed up on some of the timeline. I made a change in chapters 1 and 2 that reader and Daryl met up every 3 days instead of every 6. Also, I adjusted the amount of time between Rick waking up and actually making it to Atlanta. So instead of it being about 9 weeks into the outbreak, we’re about 12-13 weeks in when they are at the CDC. Rick’s timeline was really the only one I could work with, so I hope to hell it makes sense now. Anyway, on with the show!

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

Morning came way too quickly. In an environment where you should have felt at ease and been able to get restful sleep, you were a wreck. After fleeing Daryl’s room, you spent a long while curled up on the bed, folded into yourself as tightly as physically possible. You cried until you were exhausted, your eyes red and sore. In the end, sleep was not merciful enough to take you. 

When the wall you were staring at began to distort and move, you finally deemed it necessary to leave the bed and force yourself to shower. You felt dirty. You had responded so vehemently to Daryl’s advances, quick to repudiate the pressing matter that would most certainly only continue to grow. You couldn’t blame the hunter for your actions. 

With the water running and steam filling the small bathroom, you shed your clothing and stepped beneath the spray. It had been months without a proper shower, the water itself feeling like heaven against your skin. You hadn’t even realized how filthy you truly were until you saw the grimy water swirling at your feet. Scrubbing your skin was something you decided to savor; the same with washing your hair. You shampooed it twice before deciding you had probably abused the hot water rule and reluctantly shut it off. 

The air in the bathroom was humid, still steamy, which made it a little less shocking to step out of the stall. After toweling yourself off, you wiped off the mirror with your hand, taking in your reflection. Circles under your eyes and a more angular look to your face; not sleeping and eating less and less as the world continued to deteriorate. 

The mirror was small so you had to step back to get a look at your body, taking stock of things you hadn’t noticed while in a state of constant stress and fear. Your breasts were tender, but Daryl hadn’t exactly been gentle with them the night before. Other than that, nothing appeared different that could be blamed on pregnancy. You had definitely lost weight as you examined your stomach. Trying to track the days in your head without your calendar, you eventually estimated that you were only about 7 weeks. You would need some sort of book or would eventually need to ask Lori or Carol about the changes you could expect. 

But that would mean telling them. 

As you dressed, you wondered how long you might be able to hide it, assuming Daryl wouldn’t want his comrades to know since even giving them your name had been privileged information as far as he was concerned. 

You left your room as quietly as possible, figuring it was really too early for anyone else to be awake. They would all probably sleep in now that they had the chance. You left your boots off, padding barefoot through the halls to the kitchen. Maybe there was some tea that would help settle your nervous stomach. It was dark, the lights off to conserve power. Pursing your lips, you looked toward the ceiling, feeling a bit ridiculous. 

“VI, could you turn on the lights?”

The response was immediate with soft lighting chasing away the shadows in the room. You raised your brows in shock that the system had operated for you. 

The kitchen was well stocked but you settled with some black tea and an apple. You probably wouldn’t be able to keep anything else down with the relentless nausea. Was this the result of stress or could it be morning sickness?

The silence and solitude helped more than you could have imagined, but all too soon, people began to shuffle in. Most of them appeared to be hung over, especially poor Glenn. To your surprise, almost everyone greeted you and asked how you slept. You dodged the question with a shrug each time. They seemed content with that and moved on to the next person. 

T-Dog came into the cooking area and began digging through the contents of each cabinet and then the refrigerator, obviously intending to make something either for himself or perhaps for everyone. Carol came around to start coffee, offering you a squeeze to the bicep and a gentle smile that you returned. 

You were nearly finished with your tea when the smell wafted through the air, sending your stomach into a revolt. You were quick to cover your mouth and nose, spinning to find T-Dog scrambling eggs. You audibly gagged before your feet moved of their own accord, carrying you quickly toward the door. To make matters worse, you had to bodily maneuver past Daryl to make your escape toward the privacy of your room.

Your meager breakfast was flushed down, the act of bringing it up leaving you more exhausted than you had already been. Maybe spending the day in bed wouldn’t be such a terrible thing. 

You crawled onto the bed, melting into the soft mattress. In pure contradiction to your earlier predicament, your mind went blissfully blank and sleep found you almost immediately. 

You jerked awake to the sound of a small knock at the door. You didn’t feel quite rested but you did feel better. Your stomach still felt uneasy but you didn’t foresee it forcing you to pray to the porcelain god anytime soon. Your body was reluctant to comply with your brain’s order to leave the bed but you soon found yourself in front of the door, pulling it open to meet the concerned face of Carol. 

“Honey, how are you feeling?” She asked softly. 

“I’m okay.” You answered tiredly, leaning against the door. The urge to go back to sleep for the foreseeable future was quite difficult to ignore. 

“I know it’s none of my business but,” the woman dropped her gaze to her wringing hands, “it’s just that I couldn’t stand the smell of eggs when I was expecting Sophia. And I wasn’t just sick in the mornings. It was all the time, which made Ed—well, that doesn’t matter.”

You were already feeling the familiar tightness return to your chest, the uncomfortable fluttering inside your gut. “I—” You couldn’t possibly tell Carol. You hadn’t even told Daryl yet and he was the baby’s father. Still, the way she was looking at you. It was as if she was as desperate to have a friend as you were. “Please don’t tell anyone.” You relented, slumping even further against the door. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t. I just figured having someone that understands couldn’t be such a bad thing.” She shrugged with that sweet smile of hers. 

You have no idea. You returned the smile. “Thank you.”

“Here.” She extended a hand, opening her palm to reveal several red and white candies. “Peppermint will sometimes help with morning sickness.” You stared for a moment before accepting, stuffing all but one into your pocket. You quickly unwrapped it and popped it into your mouth, yearning for some relief from the constant waves of nausea. 

“Thanks. Really. You could tell me to sacrifice a chicken while standing on my head and I’d do it at this point.”

Carol covered her mouth and chuckled, the moment hanging briefly before her expression turned suddenly grim. “That isn’t the only reason I came by. I wanted to fill you in on some things Dr. Jenner told us this morning.”

That did not bode well. “Yeah, okay. Come in.” You stepped back and allowed her to enter, closing the door behind her.

Carol had finished retelling Jenner’s explanation and the two of you were sitting in solemn silence when the lights shut off. You figured the other woman was looking as puzzled as you were before the two of you clumsily found the door in the darkness. You opened it to find Dale and Lori in the hallway, others with their heads peeking out of their rooms. 

Footsteps caught your attention just before Jenner passed you by, intercepted by Dale. 

“Why is the air off?”

“And the lights in our room?” Lori added. 

Another door opened, Daryl leaning out with that same bottle of liquor from the night before firmly in his grasp. “What’s goin’ on? Why’s ev’rythin’ turned off?”

Jenner seemed unbothered by the inquiries, casually swiping Daryl’s bottle in passing without missing a beat. “Energy use is being prioritized.”

Dale appeared taken aback. “Air isn’t a priority? And lights?”

Jenner tipped the bottle to his lips for a long swallow. “It’s not up to me. Zone 5 is shutting itself down.” Everyone filed out into the hall and began following the doctor, Daryl yelling at him as they walked. 

Carol touched your arm but you nodded and gave her a gentle push to encourage her to go to her daughter. “I’m gonna put on my boots and I’ll be right behind you.”

Moments later, you entered the big room and started down the stairs to join everyone just as Daryl snatched back the liquor bottle from the doctor. Jenner failed to react, his eyes on Andrea. 

“It was the French.”

The blonde stood puzzled. “What?”

“They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution.”

Jacqui spoke up as you came to stand next to her. “What happened?”

Jenner was utterly nonplussed. “The same thing that’s happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel.  I mean, how stupid is that?”

Shane stepped forward, his face twisted in anger. “Let me tell you—” 

Rick was quick to interject. “To Hell with it, Shane. I don’t even care. Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We’re getting out of here now!”

Jacqui gently took your arm and urged you toward the door. “Oh, okay.” She said. It was obvious she was trying to maintain calm. Meanwhile, your heart was attempting to beat out from behind your ribcage. You barely made it to the middle of the stairs before a shrill alarm began blaring. 

Amidst everyone’s panicked inquiries, the AI sounded overhead. 

Thirty minutes to decontamination.

Daryl was worked up, his posture tense and expression angry. “Doc, what’s going on here?”

Jenner had weaved through the consoles to one on the end, scanning his badge and punching numbers on a keypad. 

Shane continued to rally everyone onward. “Everybody, ya’ll heard Rick!”

Rick joined in the urging. “Get your stuff and let’s go! Go now! Go!” 

Others were shouting as you climbed the remaining stairs and headed for the exit. There was a whirring clang as the door slid shut just before you could reach it. You were trembling, steps on autopilot while your brain raced through every possible outcome of the situation. None of them were pleasant. You didn’t even remember descending the stairs again but found yourself back on the lower level, watching Shane and Rick restrain Daryl. 

You were in shock, only registering key words in the intense conversation happening around you. 

“…locked down…”

“…28 minutes…”

“…catastrophic power failure…”

“…it sets the air on fire…”

Daryl ran past you with an axe, threatening the man that had just condemned you all to die.

And then, as Daryl was being held back and everyone shouted and cried, the doctor was speaking directly to you. 

“You. You don’t want to bring that innocent baby into this nightmare. This is a mercy.”

Your eyes widened and immediately sought out Daryl, who had gone still and silent. T-Dog was able to pull the axe away from him, the redneck being too busy staring back at you, his expression equal parts anger and shock. 

“You’re pregnant?” Dale exclaimed, releasing his hold on Daryl. 

“You do want this! All of you!” Jenner secured everyone’s attention with the exception of you and Daryl. 

While the pandemonium dragged on, the two of you were frozen. Your eyes pleaded with him to understand. He had no way of knowing how long you had known; whether or not you had lied about taking a test. He was only aware that you knew and you didn’t tell him. He was breathing fast through his nose, nostrils flaring. 

When he finally looked away, it felt as if your bones turned to jelly. You slid down in front of one of the stations and pulled your knees to your chest, fighting off yet another episode of panicked emotion. 

Distantly, you were aware of things happening around you. A shot was fired. The axe was hitting the door again. Everyone was yelling, pleading. 

Jenner hadn’t been offering you a medical alternative. He was telling you that this was going to happen. You could have warned everyone. You could have done something!

Now, everyone was going to die. You were going to die. Your baby was going to die. Your choice was made for you and the only thing you could think was that it was not the choice you would have made. You wanted this baby, Daryl or no Daryl. You wanted the chance to be a mother. You wanted your baby to have a chance. 

Feet began to pass by in front of you, but you were slow to respond, only looking up when someone grabbed your upper arm. 

Blue eyes. Angry, concerned, panicked blue eyes. 

“Get up.” Daryl ordered, hauling you to your feet. His hand slid down your arm to your wrist, and he pulled you along behind him. When you reached the hallway of rooms, he let go. “Get your bag.” You watched him start to walk away but found yourself still unable to make your feet move. Daryl snarled and ran back to you, grabbing your shoulder to give you a none-too-gentle shake. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing but voice calmer. “Y/N. Get your bag.”

It only took a heartbeat, but finally, you nodded and pulled away from him. You only had the clothes from the day before to grab and shove inside the bag. You had to shuffle around in the dark but somehow, you successfully gathered your things and stepped out into the hall just as Daryl was approaching. He still had the axe in one hand, his crossbow hanging from one shoulder and his pack from the other. 

“Go. Go, go!” He threw out his hand to urge you forward. This time, you didn’t hesitate. You met up with the group,  gathering at the front doors. They were still sealed. While the men were trying to break the glass of a large window, you noticed missing faces. Hoping you weren’t overstepping your boundaries, you laid a hand on Lori’s shoulder. 

“Not everyone’s here.” You felt stupid once the words were out. Of course she knew people were missing. They were her people. Surprisingly, she just gave you a mournful look and shook her head. What did that mean? Your expression shifted to disbelief. Unless Jenner had killed them or sealed the doors with them still inside with him, they had a chance. You had to go get them. You had to help. You had to—

“Get down!” You heard Daryl yell just before he dragged you to the floor, shielding you with his body. The surface beneath you vibrated, glass shards scattering across the lot of you. “C’mon!” He pulled you along again, this time by your hand.  

“Wait!” You yelled, your sudden stop causing him to lurch backward. The hunter growled in annoyance as you stopped to pick up his crossbow and bag. He didn’t take your hand again but you were right behind him, careful of the swinging axe when he took a walker’s head clean off.

Everyone sought shelter in the separate vehicles, Daryl leading you straight to his truck and opening the driver’s side door while snatching the weapons and bags to toss them carelessly in the back. “In! Get in!” He was almost shoving you while you scrambled inside and tried to cross into the passenger seat to give him room. However, his fingers snagged the back of your shirt and pulled you back toward him while, at the same time, he closed the door. You were pushed down toward the floorboards with Daryl’s body covering you once again. 

The explosion was massive. The truck rocked violently; the blast so loud that it left your ears ringing. You felt Daryl’s weight shift before it was gone completely, his hands on your arms to help you up into the seat even as he stared out the window. You followed his line of sight and gasped. The building had all but disintegrated. Cars, trucks, tanks: just gone. You felt only a slight relief at seeing Glenn wave Andrea and Dale into the RV. Maybe Jacqui was in there too. You weren’t a part of their group, but they were living breathing people. And that meant they mattered. 

“Hey.” You slowly turned your head toward Daryl, his hands patting down your arms, your face, your stomach. The concern he was showing was odd but not unwelcome. “Y’alright? Hurt anywhere?”

You shook your head. “No. No, I’m okay.” And right before your eyes, his expression morphed and twisted into bitter anger. 

“Good. Best sit there an’ just be quiet.” His voice was low, bordering on threatening. He started up the engine, cracking his neck while his eyes burned into the vehicle in front of the truck. 

“Daryl, I was gonna—”

“Did I stutter or ya just hard’a hearin’?” He roared, not even looking your way. 

You took in a deep breath, fighting back the tears with everything you had. You had fucked up, that was true. Maybe you deserved his wrath but you’d accept it with grace. Well, you would at least try. If there was any hope at all of fixing this—of getting through it at least civilly—you would need to let him cool down. 

As Daryl turned the truck around, pulling up the rear of the caravan, you watched the column of black smoke from what once was the CDC spiral up to layer across the Atlanta sky. 

[joelscruff]

one thing i'm missing (joel miller x reader) PART FOUR

okay wow, so since the last chapter i've somehow hit 200 followers and have received so much lovely praise for this fic ;-; you guys have no idea how much i appreciate it. life has not been going great for me lately and having this outlet + such a great response has been such a bright light for me. i can't thank you all enough. i'm estimating that this fic will probably end up being six parts total, so look forward to those! i'm also open to writing requests & suggestions for other fics so feel free to send me an ask anytime! without further ado, here's part four :) PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | ao3 summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: (for this chapter) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink, (slight) dirty talk, grinding, handjobs, fingering word count: about 6.5k (yup)

You awoke in the early hours of the morning and slowly opened your eyes, hints of sunrise trickling through the cabin window and illuminating the dust that danced around the room. It took a few seconds to reconnect yourself to the new location, your gaze shifting to the chair in the corner of the room that still held yours and Joel's coats. Your lips parted in a breathless realization, the memory of last night flooding into your mind.

“I've got you,” he'd murmured, “Keep goin', don't think about it.”

You stared at the coats, heart racing as you remembered the way he'd held you so close to him while you came completely undone, helped you rut against him until you got what you needed, til he gave you what you needed. The way he'd groaned in your ear when you brushed against his groin, whispered “good girl” to you like it was a secret.

You swallowed, feeling the familiar throb in your underwear, recalling the thick strength of his thigh between your legs...

A rustle of movement behind you brought you back to the current moment, and you finally registered that Joel was still in bed with you, spooning you from behind again, arms wound comfortably around your torso. You couldn't help but smile and without any hesitation you shuffled back further into his embrace, tilting your head back slightly so he was nosing your hair.

You heard him hum softly, arms tightening around you. You looked down and felt your skin get hot when you saw how large his hands were, one placed atop your belly while the other had snaked its way up to your sternum, almost between your breasts. He was so strong but he held you so tenderly, forearms freckled with nicks and cuts that made your heart ache; you wanted to kiss every single one.

“You awake?” you whispered, not too loud in case he was still sleeping.

He gave you an affirming grunt but didn't actually say anything, the tip of his nose tickling the back of your neck. You shivered and leaned back even further so his body was fully enveloping yours, savouring the moments before he was fully awake and would inevitably pull himself away from you. You felt something prod at your lower back and you froze, breath hitching.

Guiltily you remembered falling asleep ridiculously quickly the night before without helping him find his own release, meaning he must have fallen asleep absolutely aching. You'd felt how hard he was while you were on top of him; it must have been torture for him to watch you have the best orgasm of your life and then pass out without so much as a thank you. That torture was seemingly still ongoing, the shape of him firm and stiff against the swell of your ass.

Well, it wasn't too late to thank him now.

Hesitating for barely a moment, you began to rotate your hips, slow and steady, pushing back against the hard feeling of him through his jeans. You felt his arms suddenly stiffen around you, brow furrowing against the back of your neck.

“What are you doin'?” he murmured.

“Nothing,” you pushed back even further, feeling the unmistakable pulse of arousal in your own jeans at the sound of his voice.

He was definitely fully awake now, and as he went to move his arms you reached up to hold them back in place, hands atop his own.

“You don't have to-”

“Shhh,” you ground yourself against him a bit harder and you felt him gasp, breath warm against your skin, “I want to.”

It didn't take much for him to surrender completely to the feeling of you being so close to him, inhaling and exhaling unevenly in your ear as you continued to rub your ass against his groin. Your hands loosened on top of his and he took the opportunity to move the one that was on your belly and carefully slide it inside the confines of your shirt, palming the skin there. You whimpered at the contact, grinding yourself even harder against him.

The silence of the cabin, the stillness of the air outside in the early morning light, it gave you that peculiar feeling of being somehow present in the world but also not. It was so easy to pretend when you were alone with him, so easy to feel like you were both the only souls to exist on this post-apocalyptic plane of America, of planet Earth. The only sounds in the entire world were the hitches of breath, the soft whispers, the quiet moans and whimpers that the two of you made together, melting into one.

“Feels so good,” he whispered breathlessly in your ear, nuzzling his face against your cheek. Without needing to ask, you reached blindly behind you for his belt buckle, pulling at the cold square of metal.

“Take this off,” you breathed, stilling your hips momentarily, and he removed his hand from your sternum to reach down and start to undo it, brushing against your fingers with every motion. When he'd pulled the leather from the straps you helped him to yank the long strip of material out from underneath the both of you, tossing it to the floor. You felt him pop the button on his jeans and your hand began to shake on it's own accord as you reached for his zipper.

He stopped you, enveloping your hand in his before you could tug it down, “You sure?” he asked softly, “We can stop-”

You suddenly flipped over so you were facing him, and your heart stuttered when you saw the look on his face; he was wrecked, eyes dark and blown wide, forehead tinged with sweat, splotches of red blooming along his neck and collarbone. It had been so dark last night, you hadn't been able to see what Joel looked like when he was turned on. Now as you looked at him and saw the desire in his eyes, the bob of his Adam's apple as he gazed back at you and swallowed, the way his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath, you felt any and all hesitation leave your body. You gripped his zipper with your thumb and forefinger and slowly began to pull it down, the room still quiet save for the sharp sound of metal coming undone in your fingers – it was practically pornographic. He kept his eyes on you, lips parted as he tried to get his breathing under control.

His underwear became exposed, framing the long and thick curve of him perfectly. You heard his breath hitch when your knuckles brushed lightly against him as you finished with the zipper, and your eyes snapped back up to find his again. He was still staring at you, watching your expression, gauging your reaction. Without breaking eye contact you moved your hand up to cup him gently, palming his girth and feeling your face get hot when you realized your fingers wouldn't even go all the way around him.

“Oh wow,” you whispered, voice squeaking a little bit as you stroked him once through his underwear, “You're big.”

He groaned in response, closing his eyes finally and throwing his head back against the pillows. You couldn't help but laugh breathlessly, fingers trembling a little bit in anticipation, “Can I take it out?”

He physically shuddered at your words, jaw tightening as he brought his hands up to his face. He pressed his palms against his eyes, inhaling deeply, “Yeah,” he replied, voice shaky, “But I won't last long.”

“That's okay,” you whispered, reaching for the band of his underwear.

BANG.

Your heads snapped up immediately, both of you freezing as you stared at the closed bedroom door in confusion.

“Joel, you in this one?” Ellie called out from the opposite side.

You both flung yourselves away from each other like you'd been electrocuted, toppling out of the bed like you were in a Saturday morning cartoon. Joel yanked the zipper of his jeans back up and you threw him his belt, then pulled yourself up from the floor to stand wordlessly across from him. You both stared at each other for a few seconds as he did himself back up, eyes wide in panic.

“Joel?” Ellie called again, followed by your name, “Anybody in here?”

“Gimme a sec,” he replied loudly, voice deep and rough, “Gettin' dressed. You alright?”

“Yeah, just wanna go to the springs. I'll wait outside,” she called back, and you heard the front door slam again.

You looked at each other, both still panic-stricken. After a few seconds of shocked silence you reached down and grabbed your pack, throwing it over your shoulder, “You go out front and lead her back toward her cabin, I'll sneak into the one next door.”

“That works” he replied breathlessly, eyes scanning you up and down, “Listen, I'm sorr-”

“No, I'm sorry, I didn't think she'd be up yet,” you tossed him his coat and gestured toward the bedroom door, “Now go, before she gets suspicious.”

With one last parting glance, Joel shrugged his coat on and turned on his heel to leave, shutting the bedroom door behind him and leaving you standing alone. It was only when he was gone that you fully allowed yourself to feel the weight of what you'd almost just done, your hand clenching around nothing as you stood in the centre of the room trying to catch your breath. You'd touched him; you'd basically asked if you could give him a hand job and he'd said yes.

There was no question anymore of whether or not he wanted you, that was for sure. But whether you'd talk about it or he'd broach the subject again was completely up in the air. This thing you shared – whatever it was – you hadn't spoken one word about it to each other. He wanted you, sure, but in what way? Did he just want you to touch him, for you to get him off like he got you off? Or did he feel something deeper for you, something strong and warm like you felt for him? How were you even supposed to figure out what exactly he wanted when you hadn't even had one conversation about what had been going on? You clenched your jaw, shaking your head and inhaling the stale, dusty air; you didn't have time to think about this right now, you had to get yourself into the next cabin without Ellie noticing. The last thing you needed was for her to start asking questions about a relationship you yourself couldn't even define.

You did your best to quietly leave the cabin, slipping stealthily into the one next door when you were sure Joel had led Ellie back up the path. A few minutes later you walked out onto the front porch with heavy footfalls that made them both turn to look, yawning loudly on purpose and waving in their direction.

“Morning, losers!” you called, “Let's go see some hot springs!”

-

It turned out that in her excitement for the springs Ellie had woken up much earlier than the two of you, which explained her sudden appearance this morning. Out of boredom she'd meticulously organized all the products you'd found the previous day into piles, resulting in each of you now carrying your own personalized bath-care bag as you set out for the springs. You rummaged through yours, smiling at the strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner she'd chosen for you; you'd told her once, maybe about three months back, that you loved strawberries. The fact that she'd remembered made your heart warm. She'd also packed you an unopened women's razor and toothbrush, along with some body wash and a towel.

“You trying to tell me something?” you teased, waving the razor in her face as the three of you walked down the overgrown path to the springs.

She laughed and reached into her own bag, pulling out an identical razor, “Just that I need you to show me how to use this thing. My pits are itchy as fuck.”

Joel chuckled at that, “Try having five times that amount all over you.”

His comment immediately sparked the image of that patch of hair that trailed from his belly to his groin, the hair you'd become very familiar with in the past few hours. You swallowed and adjusted your pack absentmindedly, trying to focus on Ellie's retort.

“You could use a shave, honestly,” she was saying, making a face, “Who knows what's living in all that shit.”

“Oh, ha ha, you're hilarious,” he rolled his eyes and slowed his pace a bit to gesture to his own bag, “If you really thought I needed to shave you would've packed me a razor too.”

“Okay, true,” she conceded, “But that's just because I was scared you'd shave off your beard and I don't want you to. You'd look weird without it.”

“I agree,” you said, probably a bit too quickly, and he turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow, “What? Beards are hot.”

It had slipped out before you could really think about how it would sound, and you saw the flash of something on his face that didn't last long enough to register. It was hard to read the expression that remained but he suddenly turned back around before you could get a good look. You looked at Ellie and she was eyeing you with her own unreadable expression.

“What?” you asked, feeling your cheeks go red, “They are, right?”

She scrunched up her nose in response, “I think I'm the wrong person to ask, sister.”

-

The springs could not have been more picturesque; there were two of them situated atop a small cliff face that overlooked the forest below, patches of snow covering hints of the rocky terrain. One was large and wide, probably big enough to comfortably fit thirty people, while the other one was more secluded and separated by the tree line for those seeking a more private experience. Without hesitation Ellie sprinted toward the big one and dipped her hand inside, jaw dropping when she felt the undeniable warmth of its depths.

“It's actually like a bath!” she called to you and Joel in delight, “Holy fucking shit!”

Joel turned to you and smiled, eyes reaching yours and capturing your full attention for a few seconds. It was the first time he'd made full eye contact with you since you'd left the cabin, and you felt heat rise in your cheeks at the memory of what had occurred between the two of you in bed, your hand on him and his eyes on you. The way he looked at you now, it was like he was trying to tell you something, but you weren't sure what.

“So how we doin' this?” Ellie interrupted, appearing at your side once more.

“What do you mean?”

“Well if we're actually gonna get clean we're gonna have to take our clothes off,” she made a face at Joel, “And no offence but I really don't want to see you naked.”

“Ellie,” Joel admonished, rolling his eyes, “Obviously you'll both stick to one and I'll stick to the other, which one do you want?”

“Whichever one is more shallow,” she replied immediately.

“Oh shit, right, you can't swim,” Joel's brow furrowed and he looked at you again, “Watch her, make sure she doesn't drown herself.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” you gave him a salute and he made an exasperated face.

“You're both ridiculous.”

Ellie grinned, “Thank you, so are you.”

“I'll test the small one, see how deep it is,” you shrugged off your pack and walked through the line of trees to the more secluded spring, leaving Joel and Ellie to squabble playfully behind you.

This one was definitely more tranquil than the large one, the thick greenery almost entirely muting the sound of Ellie bothering Joel beyond the treeline. The water was clear and still, a hint of steam rising like a halo above it. Anticipation of the promised warmth overtaking you, you kicked off your boots and unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them off and wincing at the sting of cold air that hit your skin. You climbed into the water without much hesitation and sighed deeply in satisfaction at the way the warm liquid lapped against your bare legs.

You took a few steps until you were almost to the centre of the spring, then had no choice but to lift up your shirt as the water became level with your abdomen. You kept your bra on, reminding yourself that as much as you wanted to just completely engulf yourself in the water with no inhibitions whatsoever, Ellie came first. Your feet still touching the rocky bottom, you reached the centre and grinned: perfectly safe, no drowning risk in water this shallow.

“We'll use this one, Ellie!” you called through the trees, not wanting to extricate yourself from the water now that you were used to the heat. No one responded and you huffed to yourself, cupping your hands around your mouth, “Come use this one!”

The shuffle of boots and rattling of gear broke the quietness of the clearing and you froze when you saw both Ellie and Joel appear, the latter stopping completely in his tracks when he saw you standing in the middle of the spring wearing nothing but your bra and underwear, t-shirt hanging from the back of your neck. Your eyes locked onto his, lips parting in surprise. You hadn't expected him to come with her.

“Awesome!” Ellie was already unzipping her coat and throwing it to the ground, reaching for her boots, “Joel, leave, I wanna get in.”

She seemed completely unaware of his genuine shock behind her, still standing there looking at you with wide eyes. Unconsciously you felt your mouth close and your lips turn up into a smile, not breaking eye contact as you continued to stand there with your bra completely on display. It's not like it was anything special, just a basic white sports bra that had gradually yellowed a bit over time, but you doubted Joel had seen a woman this bare in months, not since Tess. You watched as his gaze shifted from your eyes to your breasts and back to your eyes again, like he was self conscious about what he saw there.

You looked down at your chest and you felt your heart stutter a bit when you noticed that your bra had gotten slightly wet, your nipples peeking through the semi-transparent fabric. So that's what was making him so flustered. You looked up at him again and smiled wider, sheepishly, flirtatiously. His face had turned bright red.

“Joel,” Ellie finally turned to look at him, sounding exasperated as she finished untying her laces, “Leave.”

His eyes broke away from you and he cleared his throat awkwardly, nodding to Ellie and taking a few steps back, “Yeah, sorry. I'll uh- I'll be in the other one.”

You watched him go, unable to stop smiling as he tripped a bit in his rush to clear the area. You couldn't get over the fact that it was you that had him all hot and bothered, his hard exterior cracking away more and more the longer you allowed yourself to be close to him. Maybe he held the cards when it came to the definition of your relationship, but when it came to sex... yeah, you definitely had the power.

-

The spring was heaven; you hadn't bathed in hot water since you were back at Tommy's, and even then you'd only been able to take a quick shower. Now you revelled in the feeling of getting clean, the smoothness of your skin after you took the razor to the hair that had been slowly getting thicker around your ankles, the silkiness of your scalp after you'd masked it in conditioner. After showing Ellie how to use her razor you'd both turned away from each other, sitting on opposite sides of the spring to fully unclothe yourselves and bask in the luxuriousness, pretending you were both completely alone. The only sounds filling the clearing were the occasional splash of water and the birds chirping throughout the trees, calm and welcoming.

After a long period without conversation, Ellie spoke, “So you and Joel, huh.”

You froze, “Um, what?”

You could practically hear her roll her eyes, “I'm not an idiot. I see how he looks at you.”

Despite being shocked by her apparent knowledge of the situation, your heart skipped a beat at her comment, “H-how does he look at me?”

“Like he wants to jump your bones.”

You spluttered a bit, completely unsure of what to say and hating that you couldn't turn around to face her. Instead, you shuffled forward and grabbed the towel she'd packed for you, wrapping it around yourself.

“Put your towel on so we can actually talk properly,” you said, wincing at the squeak in your voice.

“I'm already dressed,” she replied, and you spun around in confusion. She wasn't lying; she was no longer in the spring and had somehow slipped back into her clothes without alerting you. She was sitting against one of the nearby trees, doodling in her journal.

“How long have you just been sitting there?”

“Maybe ten minutes, my skin was getting all wrinkly,” she scrunched up her nose, “It was gross.”

You wrapped the towel firmly around yourself and exited the water, walking around the edge of it barefoot until you reached the place where she sat. You seated yourself on a nearby rock, wracking your brain for what exactly you were going to say. She just kept doodling, eyes on the paper.

“What are you drawing?” you asked awkwardly.

“Nunya.”

Your brow furrowed, “What?”

“Nunya business,” she looked up at you then with a sly smile and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Okay, book down, we need to talk.”

She sighed but obeyed, closing her journal and turning her full attention to you.

“Me and Joel, we've been.... well, there's something...” you scratched at the back of your neck, “He... him and I, we...”

Ellie made an exasperated sound, “You're together, just say it.”

You winced, “We're not, though. That's the thing. Nothing's actually happened.” It was a lie but you couldn't very well tell a fourteen year old that you'd almost gotten to third base with her pseudo-father this morning.

“But you've like... kissed.”

You looked at her sheepishly, “Uh, no. We haven't kissed.”

She seemed genuinely surprised by that, raising her eyebrows in confusion, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

You sat there for a few seconds in silence, Ellie seemingly lost in thought for a moment before she spoke again.

“But you want to kiss him, right?”

You blushed, “Uh, yeah.”

“So what's stopping you?” her face suddenly became serious, “It's not me, is it? 'Cause I don't care, really. Like yeah it's kinda awkward but that's just because we're all so close to each other all the time, so if you needed me to disappear for a little bit I could. I mean, I've been trying to give you guys your space at night, you know, and-”

You put your hand up, eyes going wide, “Stop. You've been doing what at night?”

She stared at you like it seemed obvious, “I've been sleeping further away from you guys so you could have some time alone together.”

You stared, mouth popping open in disbelief.

“Why else do you think I vetoed the 'let's all stay in one cabin' idea last night?” she picked up her journal again and flipped to a specific page, then began to read aloud: “Sleeping in the cabin with the duck sign tonight. The lovebirds are in the sheep one, I think. Joel is so predictable.” she closed the book again and looked at you with a guilty smile, “I told you, I'm not an idiot.”

You just continued to stare at her, mouth open.

“Come on, it can't be that surprising.”

“Um, yeah,” you finally spoke, leaning back on the rock and throwing your hands up in the air, “We literally thought you were traumatized.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together, “By what?”

“By that...that...” you didn't want to say his name, “That monster. The guy from the resort.”

She nodded slowly, processing your reply, “Him? I mean... yeah, I guess that makes sense,” her brow furrowed, “but honestly, I don't think about him much at all, not unless I have to. He's not worth my time.” She looked at you again with a shrug, “I think I've seen too much shit at this point for anything to actually fuck me up that bad.”

Your expression softened, “Ellie, that's not something to be proud of.”

“I know, but it's helpful.”

You sighed, bringing your hands to your face in defeat, “Joel is gonna kill you, you know. He's been so worried about you, we both have.”

“Eh, he'll be fine. He's about to get a girlfriend, right?” she gave you a shit-eating grin, “Can't stay mad too long when he's gettin' some.”

You made a face and swung your arm at her, slapping her shoulder lightly, “Okay, you're not allowed to say shit like that.”

She rolled her eyes and stood up, tossing her journal back into her pack, “I'm gonna head back to the cabins if that's okay. I'm starving and that Chef Boyardee stuff is calling my name.”

“Okay, just let me get dressed and I'll-”

She put her hand up, “Nope, you're staying here. I saw how much you were enjoying the springs, you should get back in and relax a little while longer.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean you saw? We've been facing away from each other.”

She stared at you, mouth closing into a firm line as her cheeks began to flush a bright red.

“Ellie, were you drawing me?”

“...I gotta go,” she threw her pack over her shoulder and began to run back down the path, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape, “I'll save some for you!”

“Ellie!” you called after her, “I hope you know we're gonna have to talk about this!”

“Can't hear you!”

“ELLIE!”

“Get back in the water, loser!” was the last thing you heard her say as her footfalls faded into the trees.

Exasperated, you pulled yourself from the rock and dropped your towel, turning around and flopping into the warm water. You weren't even going to bother trying to process that information right now.

Instead you just let the water claim you again, floating on your back and closing your eyes as it rocked you gently back and forth. You basked in the peace for about a minute before you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the brush.

“Ellie, I don't have my towel on,” you warned, rolling over to stand in the water, covering your chest with your hands, “I thought you were-” You froze when you saw who had actually emerged from the treeline.

“I heard yelling,” Joel practically gasped out, standing there completely frozen.

He was wearing absolutely nothing except for his jeans, which he'd seemingly haphazardly yanked on in his efforts to get to you quickly. They weren't buttoned, hanging off his hips loosely and exposing the hair that lay soft against his pubic bone, trailing upwards past his stomach and to his now visible abdomen and chest. His skin was taut, goosebumps tickling his bare flesh from the cold air, his nipples – framed lightly with grey hair – peaked and hard. Your gaze finally reached his face and his eyes had gone dark, lips parted with puffs of hot hair escaping his mouth with every breath. He was staring at you, not even bothering to try and hide the way his eyes fell to your chest, almost like he could see past the hands that cupped your breasts.

“She's gone back to the cabins,” you said quietly, almost too much so that you thought he might not hear you, but he did. He took another step toward you.

“Is she okay?” he practically whispered.

“Yeah, she was just giving me some alone time.”

His eyes trailed slowly down your body to where your skin met the water, where it lapped at your belly, leaving the other part of you that he clearly wanted to look at invisible beneath.

“Jesus Christ,” he took another step, “Look at you.”

You felt your face burn, biting your lip and feeling incredibly vulnerable as his gaze penetrated you. You felt yourself start to throb beneath the water and you crossed your legs unconsciously as he brought his eyes back up to look at your face.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, taking another step, “Tell me to go and I will.”

You shook your head slowly, “Don't go.”

He stopped at the edge of the water, his expression suddenly pained as he peered at you, “I mean it,” the words were a murmur now, almost impossible to hear, “If I get in with you... if I-” he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, “If you don't want me, you gotta tell me now.”

“I want you,” you said it immediately, earnestly, voice barely a whisper, “Please.”

Keeping his eyes on you, he reached down and slipped out of his jeans, throwing them behind him. Your heart began to pound as he entered the water, eyes staying locked on his face, knowing full well that he was now completely naked but too nervous to look down at him. Instead, you slowly brought your hands down from your chest, your breasts on display to him as he traipsed through the water toward you. You expected his gaze to fall, but he never unlocked his eyes from yours, not even when he was suddenly standing directly in front of you.

“Say it again,” he whispered, and you felt his hand at your waist, gently brushing the skin there; you shivered.

“W-what?” you were completely intoxicated by his closeness, the musky smell of the body wash he'd used suddenly the only thing you could sense, surrounding you in a cloud of pure masculinity. He was so tall, so broad, so strong. You could barely think straight.

“Tell me you want me,” he breathed.

Instead of giving him a vocal response, you reached down between the two of you and felt for the firm length of his cock beneath the water; he was hard, long and solid at your fingertips. You wrapped your fingers around him as far as they would go and watched as he fell apart beneath your touch, brow furrowing in pleasure as he groaned, guttural and low. You leaned your head forward and buried your face in his warm chest, his coarse hair brushing against your cheeks.

“I want you,” you repeated against his skin, slowly dragging your hand up and down his shaft, shuffling closer so you felt the hot tip of it against your bare thigh, “Want you so bad, Joel.”

“Fuck,” he practically whimpered, and you felt his hand come up to cradle the back of your head like he'd done last night, holding you to his body, “Just like that, baby, just like that.”

You whined at the name, shivering when you felt his other hand press flat against your lower back, pulling you even closer to him. The head of his cock prodded at your lower belly and you couldn't help but look down, watching it breach the surface of the water, wide and dark. You stared at it, felt yourself literally begin to salivate as he fucked your fist, crossed your legs together even tighter when you looked up again to see that he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wrecked.

“This is what I wanted to do this morning,” you said softly to him, voice shaking slightly as the hand that wasn't on his cock trailed down his chest, “Just wanted to make you come, like you made me come.”

He made another throaty sound, the hand that had cradled your head moving down to cup your ass, “Fuck, I loved watching you come,” he moaned, squeezing one of your cheeks gently in his palm, “Prettiest thing I ever saw.”

You blushed, continuing to stroke him as you both breathed heavily and felt the warmth of the water, the warmth of each other completely overtake you. You pressed your forehead to his chest again and crossed your legs impossibly tighter.

“Don't do that,” he whispered, hand moving down beneath the water to grip your thigh, “Don't hide from me, not now.” Without any convincing necessary, you uncrossed your legs and allowed him to slip his hand between your thighs, thumb pressing gently against your clit. You moaned breathlessly, biting down on your lip. “Feel good, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” you whimpered against his chest as you felt his thumb rotate tenderly against the sensitive nub. His fingers were so thick and wide, everything about him was thick and wide. You could already feel yourself starting to fall apart when he ever so gently pushed his index finger inside of you, making you physically shake, “Joel.”

“That's it,” he murmured, “Love it when you say my name,” you began to stroke him faster and he grunted, deep and loud, “You were sayin' it in your sleep last night, do you remember?” his finger was now fully sheathed inside of you, hot and tight, “Moanin' it. Was I in your dream, baby?”

“Yes,” you whined.

“What was I doin'?” he carefully began to push his middle finger inside of you alongside the index, the stretch burning you slightly in the best way possible, “Was it like this? My fingers? Or was somethin' else deep in there?” he thumbed at your clit again, making your mouth pop open.

You couldn't remember the specific details of the dream you'd had, the one that had ended with you waking up riding Joel's thigh, but you could remember the main gist of it, which was pretty much exactly what was happening right now. It was almost too good to be true, too crazy similar to be reality. For a moment you feared you were about to wake up again, but then Joel slowly began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, and you knew this feeling had to be real.

“I don't remember,” you whispered into his skin, “But you were there, you were holding me close like this in the water,” you gripped his cock tighter in your fist, “Didn't want you to let me go.”

“I'm not gonna let you go, baby,” he murmured, breath hot in your ear, “I'm right here, never leavin'.” His breaths were becoming more frantic, erratic; you knew he was close. And so were you. “God, your hand feels so fucking good around my cock.”

His words were almost as penetrating as his fingers, and you gasped when you suddenly felt his other hand at your breast, teasing your nipple with his thumb and forefinger. You bit down hard on your lip again, keening at the overwhelming sensation of being so desired, so claimed. He mirrored your moan, eyes closing as he gently tweaked your nipple and squeezed your clit at the same time, making you clench around his fingers.

“I'm coming,” you managed to gasp out, hand stilling on his cock, “Oh god, Joel.”

“Come for me, pretty girl, show me,” he whispered breathlessly, “Show me how good it feels.”

You shook in his grasp as you felt your release overtake you, legs tightening again as he continued to relentlessly thrust his fingers in and out of you, thumb flicking wildly at your clit as you rode it out, repeating his name over and over like a mantra. You managed to start moving your hand on his cock again before your orgasm had ended, wanting to give him a similar release as he watched you come undone with his fingers. You heard him groan loudly and you opened your eyes to blearily watch as he finished in your fist, his come spurting above the water and along your fingers before disappearing into the water below. You closed your eyes again and whimpered as he carefully removed his fingers from your core, pulling you in close and burying his face in your neck.

“You're perfect,” he groaned against your skin, “Jesus, that was good.”

You laughed breathlessly, releasing him from your fist and bringing your arms up to wrap around him, palms pressed flush against his back in a warm hug. He hugged you back, and your eyes widened slightly when you felt him press a few small kisses to the space between your neck and shoulder, tender and gentle.

“My girl,” he murmured, and you felt tears suddenly sting your eyes, “Don't want anybody but you, you hear me? Nobody.”

You shut your eyes tight, holding him closer, “I don't want anyone else either,” you whispered, voice shaky with emotion, “It's just you, only you.”

He pulled back to peer down at you, and you were surprised to see that his eyes were also shining with tears, mirroring yours. He brought his hands down to your waist, thumbs stroking your bare skin as he smiled softly down at you.

“I'm gonna kiss you now,” he whispered, breath hitching a bit, “If that's okay.”

“Of course it's okay, dummy,” you replied with a smile, feeling a tear slip down your cheek, “Been waiting for you to ask me that for weeks.”

He chuckled at your words and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his beard rough but welcome against your chin. You kissed him back just as soft, hands stroking up and down his back soothingly as you gave yourself to him, let him take what was rightfully his. He held you tighter as he pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, giving you your favorite crooked smile.

“Sorry it took me so damn long.”