#flying to Wyoming

[typewriter83]

Hi! I've been following your work for some time now, and I think you're such a prolifically skilled writer. I prefer the canon dynamic between Joel and Ellie, and the fact that their relationship has father-daughter themes but isnt purely that, yet also isn't romantic. However, I will dabble in some stories about Joellie and I do find that concept interesting. Just out of curiosity, I was wondering what your thoughts are on one of the OG fics, Flying to Wyoming? I noticed you mentioned it in a previous post listing fics. I know that while it's well-written, it's also considered a rather controversial (and at times, extreme) fic, and for good reason. I'm interested in seeing what other people think.

Oh, hello! First of all, sweet new cub, you’re too kind - I’m so touched that you enjoy my stories. Like sincerely touched. Thank you.

I came into the the TLOU fandom from the show, looking for Joel&Ellie stories, and had no interest in the romantic ship - shh, don’t tell the cubs - but it was fics that drew my attention and curiosity and eventually the brain rot sent in. I’m a fan of the canon dynamics too - minus Ellie’s treatment of Joel in Part 2, but that’s a topic for another day.

But yes, let’s talk about Flying to Wyoming because on the surface, it’s the quintessential Joellie story - discussion below the cut - it’s LONG, so buckle up.

FtW is one of those stories that I should have let lie, should have let it be a one and done, enjoyed it and never gone back. I read the entire 600k word behemoth in less than a week, which means I was speed-reading, skimming and not in great depth and detail. But at the end, those last paragraphs of the final installment, I was crying, like tears flowing down my cheeks and I wandered my house like I’d lost real people in my life. (Am dramatic, didn’t y’all know?)

The basic dynamics of the story are there - a sweeping epic, cross-country survival adventure where a teenaged orphan girl falls in love with her older male protector, one of the first people that’s ever protected her, ever put her first. Much like the canon story, Ellie starts off terrified of Joel and what he might be capable of, and Joel treats Ellie like cargo because he doesn’t want to get close to her and fail yet another that comes into his life. And, honestly, this story could have been a platonic story, 100% it would have worked - even with undertones of a teenager crushing on an older man, it would have worked. But, because of the twist the writer takes, we have a whole different angle that’s being built up to - trust me, guilt-ridden Joel is my bread and butter and there’s a lot of guilt in his inner dialogue. Ellie’s a very curious, horny teenager - which is pretty much on target for the character. I’ve written both these angles, myself, and so have others.

So, what’s my problem with it? It’s a lot. The change in dynamics after the FtW2 - it’s been awhile since I’ve read it, so if I mess up the timeline, that’s on me - Ellie is still 14 when they set out for SLC and the explicit sexual activities ramp up pretty quickly especially at the bed and breakfast. I’m judging here - okay, maybe a little, and I have no place to judge - but that’s a lot for a young teenage girl. My problem with it is simply a matter of opinion - Ellie was so young. Am I a prude? Was I sheltered? Maybe - or maybe it just wasn’t my cup of tea for reading material.

The writer is talented, his depictions of a broken world are brilliantly detailed. His depictions of how states would fight states and the scars left in the earth after battles that took place long before Ellie was born are gorgeously detailed. His descriptions of abandoned and desolate towns along the highways are incredible. Some of my favorite scenes come from their stops along the way, but namely the town at the edge of the Mississippi where they stop for bike repairs - it’s a real bonding moment for Joel & Ellie and the town’s description is vividly painted.

Those are my positive takeaways from the story - the writer draws you in with his depictions of the broken world and it’s part of the draw to the TLOU universe for me as well. The whole idea of two humans walking - or on the back of a bike - across a broken country, it’s just so compelling.

Back to the Joellie aspect of the saga.

It’s made very clear in the final story - which by the way is the best title: The Home at the End of the Road is just a perfect title to describe not only their home once they settle in Jackson, but Jackson itself is their home at the end of their long journey. I could weep - anyway, by the final story, it’s made clear that Ellie is considered an adult by end-of-the-world standards when she turns 16, and Joel is finally ready (at peace?) to give himself completely to her. I didn’t particularly care for the scene itself - it’s not how I would have written it, it’s not what I was looking for or expecting, but we’re not yucking on anyone’s yum here, it just wasn’t it for me.

The story jumps ahead by a good decade and immediately takes a sad, different kind of dark turn - we know Joel is mortal (for some of us, he’s not, but here he is) and the writer spends the last chapter showing that they’ve started a family but Joel’s mortality is this dark cloud over the home at the end of the road.

What I’m about to say next is entirely my opinion - I never had a chance to speak to the writer, he was long gone from ao3 by the time I read this story - this is my opinion. The idea of the war between FEDRA and surrounding communities felt like it was taken straight out of The Walking Dead - I don’t mean that in a bad way, just that it felt out of place for the universe. TWD and TLOU take place in different times beyond the start of their respective outbreaks - TWD is about 15ish years after the outbreak when the show ends and FtW is about 30-35 years after - that’s a big difference. I don’t think there are a lot of big communities out there in the TLOU universe - not like what was depicted in FtW, and an all out war against FEDRA. Again this is just my opinion.

When I set out to write Every Night Has Its Dawn, I wanted the epilogue to be an homage and draw inspiration from the final chapter of Home at the End of the Road. I wanted to show that living at the end of the world could be possible for Joel and Ellie and the family they have together. I was so devastated by FtW ending with not only Ellie losing Joel and one of her children, but then she loses her own life. It was too heartbreaking, and I had another vision.

That’s a lot of fucking rambling to get to the point. The story itself is a good story - the details and the way the Joel/Ellie relationship were written were not my cup of tea and I can see why you say that it’s an extreme example of the forbidden ship. It is. It’s a lot - there’s a lot of graphic descriptions of underage sexual activity, and it’s depraved, a lot of it. Does that make it bad? No, it makes it someone else’s enjoyment. It gives us writers inspiration though - there’s a lot he writes that I strive to write, but there’s a lot that I would change, and maybe did a little to fit into my universe.

Anyway, that’s my long winded take. If you stick around this long, y’all deserve a medal. Drop a line if you wanna add something to this. I would love to discuss more.

🫶🏻

[houseofcatwic]

Legends Of The National Parks - Anderson Design Group.

[riderkaitlyn5]

North, reading a bedtime story: And then the princess was able to forgive the beast for-

South: How come the princess can forgive so easily but you can't forgive me after I broke your favorite mug?

North: How bout you shut the fuck up and listen to the story

[kramlabs]

[2024skin]

me, logging onto the man hating website to hate on my man: girls you will never fucking BELIEVE what he just did

[bookofrhymes]

Fishing the Salt

Salt River, Southeast Wyoming

Clark Kelley Price

[texasflycaster]

Best Fly Fishing States in USA

The best state for fly fishing in the USA is often considered to be Montana. It’s renowned for its stunning landscapes, diverse fisheries, and high fish populations, especially trout. Here’s a breakdown of what makes Montana exceptional, along with other top states that deserve a mention. 1. Montana Why it’s the best: Known for pristine rivers like the Madison, Yellowstone, and Missouri,…

[drugstorewizard]

Sights on the drives!

[mercerful-blog]

Grand Teton on Fujifilm Superia 400 35mm

[elliesbelle]

The way i would be buying a plane ticket to Wyoming once I got the okay from Parker ✈️ (i too am messy)

y’all don’t think that i wouldn’t have bought an immediate plane ticket to a—

[1smolbean]

why are there military jets flying above my neighborhood

[typewriter83]

Hey there, it's Miss Undercover again!

First of all your latest chapters for LtW were wonderful. As per usual, you spun this genius web where the storyline is far from canon but the characters still ring true. That scene with David accosting our poor Ellie was horrifying and had me on the edge of my seat. I only managed to skim through the last few chapters of this masterpiece of a work, but I'm looking forward to sitting down and reading it thoroughly. I love love love your Joellie. And I appreciated Maria taking accountability and stepping down from her position, as someone who sorely failed to notice the red flags that David gave off. She really grated on my nerves before but she's kinda redeemed herself by being mature and level-headed and apologising.

Also, regarding A Blanket Of Snow, I do have some specific examples in mind regarding Ellie's...inclinations towards Tommy being made clear. I'll spare you the time and tell you now so you don't have to go back and read. Basically, there's a scene where she has a dream where shes encouraging Tommy and Joel to sleep with eachother and then egging them on throughout the process of them getting it on. Definitely threw me for a loop, especially with the incest of it all! 🤣 You can truly find it all on AO3, the "A" in it could alternatively stand for "Adventurous" haha.

Also, her attraction to Tommy is subtly hinted through several other lines throughout the saga. There's a scene where Joel is admiring Ellie while she's unclothed, and Ellie says "Take a picture, it'll last longer." Joel says he would if he had a camera, and Ellie asks, "Would you show it to Tommy?"— then Joel says he would but he'd charge Tommy some money. There are also some lines here and there where in her inner monologue, she mentions having fantasies about having a threesome with Joel and Tommy. It's all very scandalously depraved lmaooo FtW Ellie's got that inner beast in her.

Well hello! I’m sorry it took a hot minute - but between writer’s block (damnit Joel, sit down and let me play) and catching a cold, typing is such a chore.

Joellie discussions below cut

Writing David takes its toll on my brain - it’s hard to write Ellie in such a precarious situation, and it does make me question where these ideas for her come from. I’ve written her into scary situations with David twice and a pregnancy loss - why do keep writing our girl into these situations??

Thank you for your kind words about the relationship I write - I try to shake it up a little with each universe I create but I do especially love them in LtW, both seem a lot more vulnerable and unsure of how to fit into the Jackson standard. They need each other in a different way than the other stories I’ve written.

I was just talking to a friend about Maria - how we love the idea of protective, Mama Bear Maria, but every time I sit down to write her, she opens her mouth and … whoops, she puts her nose where it doesn’t belong. lol, I do love writing her too. I have some interesting (I think) ideas for her in the next LtW installment.

Oh, AO3, you’ve always been a safe haven for the depraved - thank you so much. ABOS was written like a fever dream, and I know it was supposed to read that way; at some points Ellie wasn’t even sure which parts were real and which parts were going on in her mind. I didn’t dislike the story - but it was so convoluted that I couldn’t follow it and didn’t bother to stick with it (sorry, RW Daniels, if you ever see our ramblings).

I know there are a few writers that have explored the idea of Ellie/Tommy, Joel/Tommy and even Joel/Tommy/Ellie - and that’s what AO3 is for, to create a safe space for those writers and then the readers can find them. I just… don’t see it. Again, this isn’t to yuck on anyone’s yum, trust and believe I’m the last person to judge, but for me I like Ellie’s relationship with Tommy to be like a niece or baby sister. That’s kind of why the last installment of FtW made me go 🥴 with those fantasies and what ended up coming to fruition in the epilogue.

Anyway, Miss Undercover, it’s always fun analyzing with you 😘 what’s next??

🫶🏻

[realmoneystudio]

15 Unbelievable Places that Actually Exist

Unbelievable Places That Actually Exist, Amazing Places You’ll Never Believe Exist, Unbelievable Places that are Hard to Believe Really Exist, tourist places and beautiful places. Watch video of ”15 Unbelievable Places that Actually Exist” video by @topfives Watch video below… TAG: UNDERWATER WATERFALL MAURITIUS, GLOWWORM CAVE NEW ZEALAND, TIANZI MOUNTAINS CHINA, GRAND PRISMATIC SPRING…

[thomschroeder]

Matt takes us over the Winds… #aerial #cessna210 #windriverrange #wyoming #flying https://www.instagram.com/p/ClkEkScvyDd/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[kramlabs]

[piratesfromspace]

Just Like Old Times (Price x Reader + poly141)

Pairing: Reader x Price (& Reader x 141) Rated: Mature Word count: 2.9k Summary: A cottage in the snow. A Captain you knew in another life. His rugged and attractive men. Will you let them into your life? Note: This is a fic I wrote for @literatecowboy for the Secret Santa event organized by @bunnyreaper! I tried to make something soft and sweet and it's taking place during the winter, it's not smutty but if you like it, I can make a part 2 with some action 👀

EDIT: we have a PART 2!!

Content: ex-military!fem!reader, mention of food & alcohol, a little bit of angst but it’s mainly fluff, smoking, flirting, praise kink, sharing body heat

MASTERLIST // PART 2

It had been Laswell’s idea. 

The team needs to be ready for snow conditions, do whatever you think is best. You have 3 weeks. And I’m talking extreme weather, Price, not a little trip to your local ski resort.

Those had been the instructions Kate had delivered to an unphased Price.

He knew it was only a matter of time before this kind of mission would be required from them. Of course, the men of the 141 have already trained in the cold of England, have seen and tested the winter gear. But Laswell is about to send them somewhere at the very East of Europe, and there is a small difference between surviving winter in London and surviving winter in places where the cold could kill you in minutes if you didn't have the proper equipment or knowledge. Over there, more than usual, tiny mistakes could have big consequences. And Price would rather not have his team freeze to death because of a lack of training. 

It’s December and the month is cold already. But it’s nothing compared to the cold Soap feels when he steps out of the helicopter. It’s like Price has picked the coldest place he knows in America. He’s pretty sure they are somewhere in Wyoming or Montana, the only thing he can see are mountains all around them. Spruce and fir trees sprawl in dark patches contrasting with the stark white of the snow covering everything. He crosses the large glade to reach the tree line, as the helicopter takes off, sending the fresh snow flying in every direction. The sky is a light gray, and while the whole scene is stunning - makes his head spin with equal awe and wonder thinking about nature’s force and brutal beauty - it means there is no sun to warm his face. 

“Come on soldiers, let’s move, we still have a two-hour hike to reach our B&B!”

“You mean someone will be there to make us breakfast Captain?” Soap chimes, unbridled joy coming through his voice at the prospect of warm home-made meals instead of MREs.

Price has a hard time hiding a smile as he starts walking on the thin winding path, only recognisable for those who know it’s there. ”There will be someone, but I’m not sure they will cook for you, Sergeant.”

Ghost lets out a dry chuckle and follows the steps of their Captain, leaving Soap and Gaz a bit puzzled.

❄️

The sun is already setting when you hear loud voices outside, and soon after a series of knocks on your door. You’re a little stressed when you rise from the floor in front of your fireplace to go open the door. You have agreed to shelter those 4 soldiers for 3 entire weeks only as a favor to Price. An old acquaintance who saved your life, a decade earlier, before you left the field to heal your wounds - body and mind. The large wood cabin had been your home for a few years already. You keep it open for women like you, in need of time away from the world, although it’s pretty rare they come during winter time when the road is blocked by snow. It’s an old building, but well-kept and you made it as cozy as possible, all warm natural tones, plush carpets on dark wood floors, dark gray stones in the bathrooms. 

You welcome them with a soft smile, delighting in their surprise - seems like John had not told them he planned on using your cottage as a back-up base for this training expedition. John’s team members are not really what you expected: there is one Scott with a mohawk that seems simultaneously annoyed and happy to be there (he has terrific blue eyes), a young and calm brown-haired Brit (he’s really cute, like movie-star cute), and a behemoth with a literal skull mask (his size alone has your head spinning). You can’t complain about them though, as they are polite and friendly, praising your home - and for sure taking in the comfort and warmth one last time before heading off for days of rudimental camping in the icy woods. You don’t envy them, remembering that one mission you did in Siberia when you were still in active duty, that wasn’t really fun. They settle in their rooms easily and you all share a quick dinner you had cooked - except for the masked giant. The banter goes fast between them, especially after you offer them beers. You like being alone, but you have to admit they are fun to be around.

❄️

The living room is silent and dark, the only light coming from the fireplace across your couch. After dinner, you had trouble finding sleep in your room, so you went to read a bit in front of the fire. But you must have dozed off, because you wake up suddenly, gasping, arms flailing, sitting up immediately. Your frantic eyes, wide open, scan the room for the reason of your awakening, survival instinct going overdrive. Someone is standing in your living room, frozen in place on their way to the front door. It’s the behemoth with the skull mask - the scariest of them all, of course.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” he apologizes. In the darkness of the room, it looks like his jaw is not even moving beneath the dark fabric covering the lower half of his face, like the sound just pours out of him or like he’s speaking directly inside your head. He might actually, you’re not entirely convinced the giant is not some sort of supernatural being John brought back from a cursed battlefield. It’s unnerving to say the least. 

“I’m sorry, it- it happens sometimes, I can’t help it, my instinct thought you were a threat…” you blurt out before realizing you may have offended him in some way by implying he’s not worthy of your trust. But instead of scoffing, he lets out a thoughtful hum, lowering his head to look at his boots, almost sheepish. 

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” His voice is low, calm, and at the same time you can feel something else, sadness, maybe disappointment, in what or who, you’re not sure.

“Care for a smoke?” he offers after a beat of silence, nodding to the front door. You don’t smoke anymore, cut the nasty habit years ago. That’s why you don’t know what compels you to accept, but you’re not gonna be able to sleep now, so you follow him outside, grabbing your coat on the way. 

You half expect him to smoke through the mask, but he pushes the fabric up enough to reveal a strong jaw covered in light stubble, and plush lips. So he’s human after all. The slick and heavy storm lighter looks ridiculously small in his giant hand when he lights his cigarette. He takes a deep puff before handing it to you.

“Sorry, last one.”

Your fingers graze his, and you bring it to your lips to drag a small puff that immediately makes you cough.

“You ok?” he rasps, humor tilting the corner of his mouth upwards.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, that’s all” you provide. He hums in approval at your explanation. 

When you hand him the cigarette, you take a moment to look at his mouth, the way his throat works when he inhales, the way the silver smoke dances between his open lips and fades into the night sky. Something warms your gut when you realize his lips are set just where yours had been a few seconds ago. 

You don’t know what’s more attractive, this or the fact he doesn’t try to make conversation for the sake of it. He doesn’t bother to explain why he couldn’t sleep and felt the need to smoke at 3 in the morning. He knows you understand. You are just glad to bask in the soft noises of nature at night - wind in the threes, the hooting of an owl. Fuck, you’ve been alone up there for too long to thirst on John’s colleagues just like this, just a few hours after their arrival. You shake your head, driving out the thought, and take the cigarette again from his fingers.

❄️

The next morning, you wake up pretty early after a short night, only to find one of them - the pretty one, Gaz - is already fixing coffee in your kitchen like he belongs there. You honestly could get used to this. The thin long sleeves of his shirt are doing nothing to conceal the muscles underneath, rolling as he’s going about this mundane task of preparing breakfast. His kind eyes and soft voice when he asks for your choice of eggs makes your heart flutter with a yearning for this kind of intimate domesticity you had never really allowed yourself up until then. It’s kinda concerning, at this rate you’re gonna ask one - all? - of them to stay with you in your cottage instead of going back to whatever missions at the other end of the world. 

The rest of the day is not making you change your mind. Price had asked if anything needed their help around the house, and you gave them the tedious task of moving the gigantic pile of wood logs stocked at the other end of your garden closer to the house. It would have taken you days to do it by yourself. But by lunch time, the pile had dwindled to a fifth of what it was thanks to the hard work of the four men. The two younger ones were down to their long-sleeve compression shirts despite the cold, sleeves rolled up their elbows, showing off strong forearms, various scars slashing across the discreet swirls of black ink from old tattoos. Some disappear under the black gloves they are all sporting. Sweat plasters the fabric of their shirts to their shoulders and chests. You can’t deny they look fucking good. 

You had accepted Price’s demand without much after-thought, but now you couldn’t be more happy about it, ogling those four rugged men laboring away for you. Despite being older than his men, Price is far from looking bad. He’s built like a brick house, a healthy layer of fat covering muscles he’s been honing for two decades. Dark hair peaks from the open collar of his jacket, your eyes follow the line of the thin garment which is hugging his tapered waist, down to his thick thighs. Fuck. You remember what it was like to be close to him - literally and figuratively. He was your colleague, an equal, a couple years older than you but you shared the same rank. He was a mentor, a friend, a lover - only briefly, after that fateful mission where he saved your life on the field. You parted ways in good spirit after you announced that you wanted to retire, needed to get your head straight before committing to anything. Today, you ask yourself if maybe you could take this back from where you left it.

❄️

You want to train with us today, love? Just like old times.

Price had asked you the question the next morning and you had not been hard to convince. It was more about being able to look at them than to train your body, but they didn’t need to know that. Even if you keep a pretty healthy lifestyle, you can’t compete with elite soldiers, and by the fourth set of push-ups, your arms are giving out. You’re about to stop and reach for your water bottle, when Price notices. 

“Come on, you can do five more, I’m sure!”

You groan in response, but you go back in position.

“Breathe, love. Back a little more straight. Elbows in. That’s it… Good.” 

Price’s deep voice is calm as he’s encouraging you, gently correcting your posture.

“Don’t look down, chin up. Perfect, you’re doing good.” he goes on, and you cheeks warm under his praise, enough to make you forget the stinging cold. Your whole body is clenched with the effort, you’re letting out little cries with each push-up, your muscles are hurting, but you want nothing more than to make the captain proud.

“Just one more. Done! You did great darling, I’m impressed.” 

He helps you get up on shaking legs and when you almost stumble, he secures you upright against his chest, keeps you there for two seconds more than he should for it to not look intentional. When you raise your head, you’re suddenly so close to his face, blue eyes staring down at you with a glint in them you can’t ignore. You reluctantly part before reaching for your water bottle again, playing coy.

The three others are not oblivious to the little game between you and Price. You notice how they exchange knowing looks and little smiles whenever you both interact. Worst, they also seem to pick up on your love for being praised and soon enough they take every excuse to whisper how good your aim still is during target training, or how smart you are for knowing everything about the local fauna during your afternoon hike. It never sounds like they’re mocking you though, never feels like it’s not genuine. It’s not fair, really. At this rate, you don’t know how you’re gonna survive living under the same roof with four attractive men for three entire weeks. 

The answer to this torture of yours is revealed quickly. After a few days of acclimatization at your cottage, Price and his men are ready for a long expedition higher in the mountains, with just tents and even a short surviving-in-extreme-cold workshop. They will be gone for at least ten days. You watch them pack their gear and leave your place with a pinch in your heart you couldn’t expect when you first opened your door to them.

❄️

Days go by, pretty uneventful, until your heating system breaks down. It’s not the first time since you’re leaving up there, it’s not that scary but you’ll have to wait a few days for the repair team to come by. In the meantime, you resort to live and sleep in your living room, where the fireplace provides enough heat to keep you warm in the heart of the winter.

They come back the day after that, and when you see their silhouettes emerging from the treeline, just before the sun sets down, you can’t prevent your lips to form a smile so big it hurts your cheeks after a couple minutes standing in the biting cold. 

The fondness in Price’s eyes is not dulled by the news your heater is out of order, nor is the relief on Soap’s and Gaz’s faces at the promise of a solid roof and comfy beds after days of rudimentary accommodations.

You all work to prepare some food, and to bring a couple mattresses with all the duvets you can find in front of the fireplace - the only sane solution for you all to sleep without suffering too much from the freezing temperatures. It reminds you of your years of service, when you sometimes had to share a single room with your whole squad - you’re not missing the stress and the harsh living conditions, but you’re definitely missing the camaraderie, the jokes and fits of laughter, the bodies of trusted people around you. 

They leave you the couch - gentlemen that they are - the objectively most comfortable option, but once again you can’t find sleep. The piece of furniture is the farthest away from the fire, and you’re on your own, no one next to you to share body heat with you. 

It’s only because I’m cold. That’s the poor excuse you give yourself - and the one you whisper to Price - when you step down from your couch to seek a place under the cover next to John. He’s sleeping next to Gaz; Soap and Ghost are sharing the other mattress. You slide yourself against him, immediately melting into his chest, the man radiating heat like it’s his only purpose in life. He doesn’t even have to ask you if it’s okay to hold you against him because you plaster yourself to him and nuzzle against his chest, old habits taking over your sleepy brain. A sense of safety and comfort envelopes you at the same time his warmth does. You forgot how good it felt to be in his embrace, to be tucked against his broad chest, surrounded by his smell - manly, ambery wood, and the rich spice of his cigars. 

He chuckles silently as you settle at his side and let out a little content sigh. He missed that too, he won’t say it out loud, but having you like this, soft and pliant in his arms, it makes him wonder how he could be such a fool for not seeking you sooner. He suddenly wants to kiss you, to make you feel good, here and now, no matter the fact his men are sleeping just a few inches from you. Should he care? He’s not blind to the fact you spend a good amount of time leering at them since they’re here, and to the fact they are watching you back. He can not ignore the shameless flirting going on between all of you five actually. John has never really been in a situation like this, doesn’t know where this will lead him - where this could lead them. But he’s ready to follow you. He takes a deep breath before he talks. 

“Just like old times?” He asks, voice low, chest vibrating with it under your palm. 

Just like old times… The words echo in your head, echo in your heart. He gives you the opportunity to lead him - to lead them - wherever you wish.

“Just like old times.” You repeat back to him, before you capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

PART 2