#this is about like 4 different characters

[daryltwdixon]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 6.5 | Part 7

Summary: The days blur together, a steady cycle of bottles, naps, laundry, a rhythm of new motherhood slowly reshaping you. Joel and Tommy orbit you in different ways, their presence both comfort and complication. Therapy brings things to the surface, but not resolution. And when the truth finally comes out over the dinner table, everything you thought you'd been holding together starts to come undone. || smut MDNI 18+, angst and fluff, therapy, mention of polyamory/throuples, tommy is still an ass, still aint kosher folks, sooo much kissing, pinv, dirty talk (!!), fingering, f!recieving oral, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, missionary (better to look into your eyes <3), 1 use of the word mama, please remember these characters suck at communicating, adding more tags later because I don't want to spoil! || a/n: woowee its a doozy. wc: 14k

“So, you’re back.”

In your arms, your baby squirms with a soft grunt, his little mouth puckered in protest. You shift him gently, rocking him with a practiced motion that’s more muscle memory than thought at this point. His weight is a comfort, solid against your chest. You breathe out a quiet laugh.

“Good to see you too, Dr. Servopulous.”

“Didn’t I say somethin’ about callin’ me Tess?”

Joel and Tommy both offer small smiles from either side of you. Tess returns them, her eyes warm as she leans forward, looking at the bundle in your arms.

“And look who we have here,” she says. “What’s his name?”

“This is Sammy,” you murmur, lifting your baby just slightly so she can see his round, pink-cheeked, bleary-eyed face. He yawns, clenching his fist around a lock of your hair.

“Samuel TJ Miller, ain’t that right, buddy?” Tommy adds with a soft smile, reaching to poke gently at the baby’s belly. Sammy squirms, kicking one foot free of the blanket.

“Thank you for joining us, Samuel,” Tess says with mock formality, then glances at the clipboard in her lap. “A lot has happened since I last saw you three.”

“Understatement of the century,” Tommy mutters.

You glance sideways at him, trying to read his face. It’s soft—eyes crinkled at the corners, tone easy with no bitterness. At least, not today.

Joel says nothing. He sits still on your other side, arm draped loosely across the back of the couch just behind your shoulders. His fingertips occasionally brush your upper arm when you shift, a quiet presence more than a participant.

Tess looks between the three of you, pen poised. “Tell me about your dynamic lately. We can start there and dig into what’s happened.”

You turn to Joel, exhaustion clinging to your bones, to your posture, to the deep, purple shadows carved beneath your eyes. Two months of near-sleepless nights etched into your skin like bruises. You look at him fully, wordlessly asking him to speak first. 

Joel clears his throat and shifts forward, arm dropping to brace against his knees. “Uh, well,” he starts, nodding to himself. “We’ve been mostly focusin’ on takin’ care of Sam. Of her.”

Tess nods, encouraging.

“We’ve been a good team, I think.”

“It’s been quite the journey,” Tommy adds. “Feels like since Sam came into the world, things have been... I dunno. Easier, wouldn’t you say?” He glances between you and Joel.

“Define easy,” you scoff, untangling your hair from the baby’s fist.

“I just meant between us,” Tommy says, lifting a hand. “Not so much goin’ on dynamic-wise.”

“Then what brought you in?” Tess asks, calm and direct.

You pause, glancing between the two of them before your eyes land on the doctor again.

“I think... we’re trying to prepare. For when things don’t feel like survival mode anymore. When Sam’s sleeping through the night. When I’m ready to start…” You trail off, the words feeling distant, almost absurd. “Being intimate again.”

Tess nods, jotting something down. “And how have you been feeling? Emotionally.”

You hesitate, then shift Sammy in your arms and glance toward Tommy.

“Can you—?”

“Yeah, of course.” He takes the baby gently, already tucking the blanket around him just the way you like. You sink back into the couch, chest suddenly lighter without the weight of another body pressed against you. You exhale, slow.

“Obviously it’s hard,” you say finally. “Harder than I thought. I cry a lot. About nothing. About everything. I’ll lie awake wondering if he’s warm enough. If he’s eating enough. If he’s…” your voice falters, “...if he’s still breathing. I feel insane about it sometimes.”

“All very normal,” Tess says softly. You nod, staring at Sam as Tommy smiles down at him.

Tess gives you a moment, then adds, “And how about the dynamic between the three of you? How’s that felt lately?”

You look at the two men flanking you, and your mouth lifts slightly.

“Honestly... it’s been a gift. They’ve both been incredible. I’m never alone. They’re so good with him. I barely even have to ask, they just know.”

“Helps that you’ve done this before,” Tess says, smiling at Joel.

He chuckles under his breath, eyes down.

“My body still doesn’t quite feel like mine yet,” you admit. “But I feel... really connected. To both of them. And to Sam.”

“That’s really good,” Tess says. She scribbles a few more notes before shifting her attention.

“Now, Tommy,” she says, catching his eye. He straightens a little, as if realizing he’d tuned out, his mind and eyes having only been on the baby. “I want to talk about you for a moment. Last time we spoke, you were the one who had some reservations about opening the relationship. About all of this. How are you feeling now?”

Tommy looks between you and Joel, slow.

“I don’t really know how I feel,” he says. “Truth be told... things feel fine. Between me and her. Joel too.”

You let out a dry laugh and look to Tess.

“That’s ‘cause they barely see each other,” you say. “When Tommy’s at the site, Joel stays. When Joel’s working, Tommy’s there. We’ve got a rhythm. But it’s not... us. Not really.”

Tess nods slowly at your comment, the slight crease between her brows deepening.

“That 'rhythm' you’ve found sounds functional. But is it fulfilling?” she asks gently. “Or are you all just getting by?”

Tommy doesn’t answer. Joel doesn’t either.

Tess lets the silence sit for a moment before turning to Joel.

“Joel,” she says softly, “you’ve been quiet. I know that’s not unusual for you, but I want to check in. How are you feeling about all this?”

Joel shifts slightly, eyes on the floor. His voice is low when he answers.

“I think I’m just tryin’ to be where I’m needed,” he says. “Not stir things up too much. She’s been through a lot. The baby needs her calm. Last thing I want is to be another problem.”

“You think your presence is a problem?” Tess asks, head tilting.

Joel gives a one-shoulder shrug. “Sometimes it feels like it could be. I try to stay out the way.”

You turn to look at him then and there’s something in his face you hadn’t noticed before. A kind of quiet resignation. Like he’s still halfway out the door, even while sitting beside you.

“Joel,” Tess says after a moment, “that kind of self-erasure might feel noble. But it’s not sustainable. And it’s not honest, not if you care about them, which it’s obvious that you do.”

His jaw works for a moment before he nods, once.

“They…” you begin, fidgeting in your seat, fingers twisting into the fabric of your leggings. “They got into a bad fight. Right before I went into labor. I’d like to talk about that, if it’s okay.”

Joel glances over, his eyes meeting yours briefly. He gives a small nod, steady and quiet. You shift your gaze to the other side, to where Tommy sits. His arms are folded around the baby, posture rigid, a frown pulling at his mouth. But after a beat, he nods too.

“Um,” 

You clear your throat, but the words won’t come easy. Because really, where the hell do you even start? How do you explain something like this? That Joel asked you to leave your husband, that you ignored him for weeks, shut him out like he hadn’t cracked something wide open in you, and then he showed up drunk, wild-eyed and full of hurt, and threw a punch at his own damn brother?

You shift in your seat, your chest tight, pulse fluttering. It's all there, still living in the back of your mind like a bruise you keep pressing, sharp and tender and unresolved.

“I acted like an idiot,” Joel says, cutting in when you still can’t find the words. His voice is low, rough. “Said things I shouldn’t have said. Did things I shouldn’t have done.”

You exhale slowly, eyes shifting to Tess.

She lifts her pen, not writing. “Care to tell me what those things were?”

Joel hesitates. His eyes meet hers, and when he speaks again, the words are quiet, nearly swallowed.

“I told her to leave him.”

The air seems to pull inward. The room holds its breath.

Tommy’s face doesn’t move for a second when you go to calculate his reaction. But then he blinks, a sharp laugh escaping his mouth, not a trace of humor in it.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” His voice slices the room open. The baby begins to squirm in his arms, face tightening, body fussing.

“That was months ago,” you say quickly, reaching over to settle your hand on Tommy’s arm. “And he regrets it. Don’t you?”

Joel’s eyes don’t leave the baby, his gaze a thousand miles away. His voice is flat. “I regret saying it out loud.”

Tommy turns sharply to look at him then, jaw clenched.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Joel—”

“Okay,” Tess interrupts, lifting a hand, her tone calm but firm. “Before this turns into something I can’t break apart, I’m going to ask all of us to take a breath together.”

You nod and reach out instinctively, taking the baby from Tommy’s arms. He gives him over willingly, the baby's small hands clenching the fabric of your shirt. Joel stops you, taking him from your arms. You look at him with wide eyes.

He shifts beside you, holding out his arms. “It’s fine. I got him.”

You hesitate, caught between them. Then you hand the baby over. Joel lifts him gently, settling him against his chest. The baby fusses once, then quiets.

Tess watches the exchange closely. “All right. Let’s take that breath.”

You inhale together, slowly. 

Deep breath in.

Hold, hold, and exhale all the way out.

Another.

And another.

Your heart rate finally begins to slow. You open your eyes, grounded just enough to keep going.

Tess glances down at her notes, then back at the three of you. “I appreciate you all staying here in this moment. I know that wasn’t easy. But this is why we’re here. Not to pretend things are fine, but to look at what’s underneath.”

She shifts slightly in her seat. “Would you be open to trying something together? It’s an exercise I use often with couples. Or, in this case, throuples.”

You glance at Joel, then at Tommy. They both nod, though a little begrudgingly.

Tess continues, voice steady. “This is about transparency. About seeing each other, not just reacting to old patterns. It’s called the ‘I see you’ practice. One at a time, you’ll each speak to the others using a few prompts. You don’t have to explain or justify what you say. The goal is just to be witnessed.”

She picks up a note card. “You can use these to start:

What I see in you right now is… What I need from you is… What I miss about us is…

And you’ll finish the sentence for each one, to each other. This is your time to be honest, to be open.”

She turns her eyes to you first. “Do you want to start us off?”

You nod slowly, your heart thudding beneath the weight of it all. You smooth your palms against your thighs, grounding yourself, then look to Joel.

Tess sees the hesitation on your face and offers, gently, “Why don’t you hold her hand, Joel?”

Joel shifts, eyes searching yours as if asking permission. When you nod, he reaches across the small space between you, careful not to jostle the baby who is already dozing against his chest, and threads his fingers through yours. His hand is warm, steady. You feel the weight of it go straight through you.

Your voice wavers as you begin.

“What I see in you is someone who’s scared to admit his role in all this.”

You glance up into his eyes. Joel doesn’t look away. His brow creases, just slightly, but his grip on your hand tightens.

“I see someone who helps, day in and day out. Who shows up, quietly, constantly. But only says what he wants when everything’s already blown up and it’s too late.”

Joel swallows, throat bobbing as he shifts the baby slightly, and you think the touch of your hand might be grounding him too.

“What I need from you is honesty. Not just in the aftermath. All the time. I need you to stop playing the martyr. You don’t have to earn your place here. You already belong. With me. With us.”

You feel Joel’s thumb move across the back of your hand, slow and steady.

“What I miss about us is… is the fun we had. I miss taking Sarah out for ice cream. I miss going to the fair. I miss being spontaneous with you…even if that feels like a lifetime ago now. I realize we can’t just do those things now with the baby but…I still miss it.”

He smiles, nodding along with you. You take a breath and turn to Tommy, letting go of Joel's hand as you do so. He shifts slightly under your gaze, like he knows what’s coming.

Tess says gently, “Maybe place your hand on his arm.”

You do. Your fingertips brush his bicep, and you feel the slight tremble there. He doesn’t move away.

“What I see in you is someone holding a lot of resentment.”

His brows lift slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt. His fingers twitch on his knee.

“What I need from you is consistency. I feel like one minute you’re with me, and the next you’re not. I just want to feel secure, to know you’re not going to pull back when this is hard.”

You press your fingers into his arm a little firmer now, a little more tender, “What I miss is… us.”

The words nearly catch in your throat, and you see Tommy’s eyebrows furrow in anguish.

“I miss the way you used to kiss me just because you were thinking about me. I miss the little touches like your hand on my back when we were brushing past each other in the kitchen. I miss being your best friend. I miss feeling like your wife. Your other half.”

Tommy’s hand comes to rest over yours, finally. He doesn’t speak yet, but his grip says what he can’t.

Tess gives a soft cue with her eyes, and Joel looks at Tommy.

Joel shifts slightly in his seat, adjusting the baby with one arm.

“What I see in you is someone who’s trying really hard to build a family. I see my brother. Someone I’ve known and loved my whole life. Since the day you were born.” He glances at Tommy, voice low.

“And I see you throwin’ it away with jealousy.”

Tommy stiffens, but doesn’t look away. His fingers curl around his knee.

“What I need from you is to stop pushin’ me out. I didn’t sneak in here. You asked me for this, and we all fell into it. And yeah, it got messy. But it’s happening. She wants me here. And I want to be here.”

Joel’s hand tightens protectively on the baby’s back as he continues.

“What I miss about us is knowin’ I could count on you. Maybe I haven’t earned that lately, but I need you to know you can still count on me. I’m still your brother, Tommy.”

Joel turns to look at you then, and your lungs catch.

His voice is soft, almost reverent, and his hand joins your fingers that are clammy and splayed on the couch, intertwining his with them again.

“What I see in you is... someone doin’ such a beautiful job bein’ a mother.” His eyes flicker over your face and your heart constricts.

“I see how tired you are. How you keep pushin’ through, even when you’ve got nothin’ left. Sam is lucky to have you. We all are.”

A long pause.

“When I see you... I see everything.” His eyes glint. “I see my future. I see the mother of my child—”

There’s a short pause as his eyes flicker over to Tommy, gauging the reaction, before gazing back at you, clearing his throat.

“What I need from you is to stop actin’ like you’re caught in the middle. You’re allowed to make a decision that might hurt us. But you chose this too, same as we did. You’re allowed to want both of us. To lean on us in different ways. We can work with that. We can make that work.”

“What I miss is... how easy it was. Bein’ near you, talkin’ to you. Just sittin’ in the same room and feelin’ like that was… enough.”

He glances at you, something flickering behind his eyes.

“It used to be simple. And I didn’t realize how much that mattered ‘til it wasn’t.”

The room quiets.

Tommy shifts forward slightly, his knees brushing yours. Tess watches closely.

“Tommy,” she says gently, “Why don’t you hold her hand while you speak?”

Tommy hesitates. Then he reaches out, lacing his fingers through your free hand. Your hands are linked between them, one held in each of theirs.

He turns to Joel first.

“What I see in you is someone who’s been trying to take my place.” Joel stiffens, but he lets Tommy keep going.

“I know how things got. How tangled up everything’s been. But I’m allowed to feel that way. You’ve been whisperin’ in her ear, turnin’ her against me when we fight. That’s what it’s felt like. But couples fight, Joel. They cry, they scream, they figure it out. It don’t mean it’s over.”

Joel opens his mouth, but Tess lifts a hand slightly: not yet.

“What I need from you is the truth. Not the quiet kind you use to protect people– to protect yourself more like. I need the real truth of it. Because if you’re gonna be here, then you better stop waitin’ for the bottom to fall out. Either be in it, or don’t.”

His eyes drop to his lap.

“What I miss is feelin’ like I could count on you too. Even before all this. Before we both fell in love with the same damn woman and stopped talkin’ like we used to. I miss gettin’ wings at the Tipsy Bison with you an’Sarah on Wednesdays. I miss watchin’ the Cowboys, crackin’ a cold one on a Sunday. I miss us just bein’... just brothers.”

Then Tommy turns to you, his thumb sweeping gently across the top of your knuckles.

“What I see in you is someone stretched thin. Tryin’ to be everything for everyone. And I think in the middle of that, I forgot how to make you feel safe.” His voice shakes just slightly.

“What I need from you is to stop actin’ like stayin quiet keeps everything fair. Like not choosin’ is somehow keepin’ the peace. It’s not. All it does is make me feel like I’m a third wheel in my own marriage.” he sighs, sorting through his thoughts, “I just want you to be honest about what you feel, what you need. From me. Not just from him. I don’t wanna feel like I’m always a step behind, tryin’ to prove I still matter in all this.

You squeeze his hand, nodding.

“What I miss about us,” he finishes softly, “is that feeling I used to have when I looked at you. That certainty. Like no matter what, we’d figure it out.”

You pinch your brows together, an apology written on your face as Tess draws in a soft breath, folding her hands over her clipboard.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice a little quieter now. “All of you.”

She pauses, letting her gaze pass over each of you — Joel, still holding the baby, Tommy, knuckles a little white where his hand still holds yours, and you, sitting between them, strung out and seen for the first time in what feels like months.

“That was not easy. And you stayed with each other through it.” Her eyes are kind, earnest. “That matters.”

She leans back slightly in her chair. “You’ve given each other a lot to think about. There’s hurt here, but there’s also love and commitment, even if it’s messy.”

She nods once, thoughtful.

“I’m not going to ask you to do more today. You’ve all been carrying enough. For now, I want you to sit with what was said. Let it settle. Think about each other’s expectations. How you heard each other. What you want moving forward.”

Her smile is gentle.

“We’ll meet again next week. No homework. No pressure. I know you’ll be busy with the little one.”

Joel glances down at the baby still cradled against his chest, his palm softly cupping the back of Sam’s tiny head. A quiet hum of agreement leaves him, like he already knows you'll be awake every hour tonight.

Tess stands slowly. “Take care of yourselves. And each other.”

Outside, the three of you walk out into the cooling afternoon air. The sun is low, casting gold along the pavement. Joel still carries Sam, his big hand shielding the baby’s head from the breeze.

The silence between you isn’t necessarily heavy, but full and settling.

You stop beside the car and turn toward both of them.

Without speaking, you wrap your arm around Joel’s side and your free arm around Tommy’s back, pulling them both in. Neither resists. Joel leans his head against yours for just a second. Tommy's hand presses gently at your lower back.

The hug holds.

Then Joel shifts, adjusting the baby and glancing down at him. “Here,” he murmurs, careful as he lifts Sam and passes him back to you.

You cradle the baby close, resting your cheek against the top of his soft little head, breathing him in.

Then you glance up at Joel, your voice gentle. “Come over for dinner tonight?”

He raises an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Tommy’s cooking his famous chili,” you add, nudging your shoulder lightly into Tommy’s side.

Joel’s brow lifts a little higher. “Since when you got a famous recipe I don't know about?”

Tommy shrugs with a quiet laugh. “Since I started doin’ more of the cookin’ lately. But… could be nice,” he says, glancing at Joel, then at you. “Just to talk.”

Joel hesitates for a second, then shifts his weight, looking over to his truck, “Can’t tonight. I gotta get Sarah settled, junior year’s kickin’ her butt right now, wanna make sure she has a good night.”

You nod, trying not to let your disappointment show, but he notices anyway.

“I’ll be over first thing in the morning,” he adds, then looks at his brother, “You’re good to be on site, right? Got contractors comin’ to lay the framing before they pour concrete.”

Tommy nods. “Eight sharp.”

Joel leans in, kisses your cheek, just light and familiar in his farewell. Then he rubs his knuckles gently over Sammy’s cheek, careful not to wake him.

He meets Tommy’s eyes and gives a short nod. “See you.”

Tommy nods back. “Yeah. See you.”

“Goodnight,” you murmur, watching him turn away.

Joel smiles briefly before walking off toward his truck, the light stretching long behind him. 

“I just don’t understand why everything has to be a damn therapy session,” Tommy mutters, rubbing at his face as he yanks a shirt over his head, his voice low but sharp in the stillness of morning.

You shift Sammy against your chest, adjusting your grip as he nurses quietly, his small body heavy in your arms. The weight of him is comforting and exhausting all at once. Your back aches. Your eyes sting from another night of broken sleep. You’re still in the oversized shirt you slept in, bunched up awkwardly to give the baby access as you lean into the headboard.

“Tommy, it’s not,” you say, voice hoarse with tiredness. “Tess says we need to communicate. And I was just saying—”

“Yeah,” he cuts in, bending to grab his boots from the floor. “You were sayin’ I don’t do enough.”

“That’s not what I said.” You exhale hard, slumping back as the baby shifts and latches again. “I said maybe if you were more aware of how you’re feeling, I wouldn’t have to pull it out of you every damn time.”

He lets out a soft, humorless laugh as he sits on the edge of the bed to tie his laces. “Sounds like the same thing to me.”

You adjust the blanket over Sammy’s back, trying to focus on the slow rhythm of his breathing, his tiny hand resting against your chest. Everything in you feels pulled taut. Between your body and your thoughts, there’s nothing left that belongs only to you.

“I’m not trying to fight,” you say, quieter now. “I just don’t want to keep playing this guessing game of how you’re feeling. We have to talk to each other.”

Tommy doesn’t answer. He finishes tying his boots, stands, and grabs his jacket from the hook by the bedroom door. For a second, it seems like he might walk out without saying anything at all.

But then he circles around the bed and leans down and kisses the top of your head, his lips barely touching your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You’re right.”

And that’s it.

Not tender but not unkind either. Just enough to move past it.

You nod, but your eyes stay on the baby. Tommy lingers for a moment longer, then heads for the door. The sound of it closing behind him is soft, but it feels louder than it should.

You adjust Sammy again, not because he needs it, but because you don’t know what else to do with your hands.

Downstairs, you hear the low murmur of voices, a few words exchanged, calm and indistinct. Joel, you assume. Then footsteps, slow and familiar, making their way up the stairs.

He appears in the doorway with a mug in his hand and that quiet, almost apologetic smile he gets in the mornings. His voice is soft when he speaks.

“Mornin’.”

“Hey,” you exhale, too tired to say more.

He comes around the bed just as you lift Sammy up to your shoulder, patting gently at his back. Joel sets the mug down on the nightstand and holds out his hands.

“Let me take him.”

You don’t hesitate. You ease the baby into his arms, and Joel takes him like it’s second nature, one hand cradling his head, the other curling protectively around his small body, patting him on his back.

“Get some more sleep,” he says, voice low, steady. “Tommy said you were up half the night. I got this.”

You manage a faint smile and murmur your thanks. Joel just nods, already rocking gently in place, gaze focused on the baby like there’s nothing else in the world that needs his attention right now.

And as he shuts the door behind him, you’re already drifting back to sleep. 

When you wake again, the light in the room has shifted, warmer now and spilling across the hardwood in quiet streaks. You lie still for a moment, your body heavy and aching in all the familiar places—shoulders sore, lower back aching, and breasts heavy. 

The house is quiet, but not silent. There’s a low, murmuring voice downstairs, rhythmic and gentle. You push the blankets back and stand, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you shuffle barefoot to the door.

Once down the stairs, you detour into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of toast from the counter, half-eaten from a midnight snack during the wee hours of the morning. The murmuring continues closer now, just around the corner in the living room.

You peek in.

Joel is on the couch, legs bent with his heels resting on the coffee table. Sammy lies across his thighs, his head by Joel’s knees, arms flailing in slow-motion like he’s swimming through thick air. His little feet keep kicking up into Joel’s stomach, and Joel keeps pretending to be offended by it.

“Oh, alright,” Joel says softly, eyes on the baby, grabbing his feet gently after one good kick. “You’re feelin’ tough this morning, huh? Gonna try and take me out one toe at a time?” He leans in slightly, eyebrows raised, and gives the tiniest shake of his head. “You don’t even know how dangerous I am, buddy. One more punch to the gut and I’ll eat those toes right off.”

He scoops up one of Sam’s feet and presses a loud, smacking kiss to the bottom of it. Sam wiggles, blinking up at the ceiling, cheeks pulling into a half smile.

Joel grins. “Tough crowd.”

You lean against the doorway, smiling into your toast, watching the way Joel’s voice softens around the baby. He looks completely at home, like this is the only thing he was meant to do. He took to the caretaker role with ease, with a gentleness you knew was there but still pulled at your heartstrings to see. His hand rests gently on Sam’s belly, thumb stroking absent patterns through the fabric of the blanket.

Eventually he glances up and spots you there.

“Hey,” he says. 

You step into the room, yawning softly. “I’m surprised he let me sleep so long,”

Joel nods. “Oh, yeah. We’ve been busy havin’ lots of intelligent conversations about how to build a house, how kickin’ your daddy is rude,”

Your feet still halfway across the rug.

It hangs in the air, the word daddy.

Joel doesn’t flinch, but he doesn’t look at you either. Just gently tugs the baby’s sock back into place like nothing happened.

You move toward the couch slowly, toast forgotten in your hand. He said it so easily, like it belonged to him, like it didn’t need discussion.

You’re not mad. Not even really surprised. But something knots in your stomach all the same. Not in a bad way, just… tight. Complicated.

Because what do you call him? What do you call either of them?

Tommy’s the husband. The legal father. But Joel’s the one who got you here, who made this all possible. He’s been here in the quiet hours, the one who holds Sammy like he’s always known him, the one who keeps showing up with soft hands and gentler eyes than he knows what to do with.

Is it normal for a baby to have two dads?

You don’t know. But somehow, it doesn’t feel wrong.

Joel finally glances up, like he can feel you thinking too loud. His eyes meet yours, uncertain.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, like he’s backing away from the thought.

You shake your head, sitting down beside him. “Don’t be.”

And just like that, you both look down at the baby again.

“He’s probably due to eat again soon,” you say, voice low. 

Joel nods, “I figured. He’s been frowin’ at me for the last ten minutes.”

“He gets that from you,” you say around your last bite of toast as you brush the crumbs off your fingers, holding your hands out to take the baby. Joel transfers him gently into your arms without a word, just a soft look. You adjust your shirt and get Sammy latched, his small mouth working almost immediately. It still aches a little, but you’re used to that now. The sting fades fast enough.

Joel doesn’t look away from your face. He just watches you, like he’s still surprised by the whole thing. The way your body knows what to do. The way you cradle Sam like he was always supposed to be here.

“It suits you,” he says finally, “Motherhood.”

You scoff, “Not so sure about that,” then, tucking the blanket around the baby, you add. “I look like I got hit by a truck.”

Joel huffs a breath through his nose, almost a laugh. “Still.”

You glance up at him, cheeks warm, but before you can say anything else, he leans over and presses a kiss to your temple.

And then your cheek.

And then, gently, he kisses your lips.

It’s slow. Soft. Still tinged with that quiet affection that’s been simmering between you since before everything fell apart.

You let it happen, you even lean into it.

But when he pulls back, your mouth curls into a crooked little smile.

“Real romantic of you,” you murmur. “Kissin’ me with a baby attached to my boob.”

Joel laughs, real and warm, the sound vibrating from his chest. “Can’t help myself,” he says, eyes flicking over your face. “You’re just so damn pretty.”

You shake your head, but you’re still smiling. Sammy suckles contentedly between you, unaware of the way his mother and… whatever Joel is now… keep orbiting closer and closer.

You don’t have the words for any of it. Not yet. But it feels good. It feels okay.

The thing is, you'd already gotten the all-clear from your doctor. Physically, your body was healed, ready to be intimate again. But emotionally, mentally, you hadn’t felt ready. Not yet.

Not when your body still felt like a vessel. A machine built to feed, to soothe, to keep tiny lungs breathing steady through the night. You hadn’t really felt like you again. Not in the way that mattered. You were a mother now, and that shift had been swift and irreversible. Beautiful, yes, but altering in a way that left you grasping for pieces of who you used to be.

And now, everything had more weight. You weren’t just navigating your own wants, or theirs. There was someone else in the mix. A tiny person who would grow up watching you, learning from the way you looked at Joel, the way you touched Tommy. Watching the love between all three of you and making sense of it in his own way. That made you cautious. Careful.

Sarah came around too. Mostly in the afternoons now that fall was in full swing and she was buried in homework. She’d slip in after school, wave hello, drop her backpack by the couch and curl up to do her work while Joel rocked Sam or helped you prep dinner. She didn’t ask questions, not yet—but there were still answers you knew would have to come.

At least the chaos had begun to settle. Sam was four months old and sleeping longer stretches now, Joel coming and going with his usual quiet consistency. Tommy stayed most mornings, all of you still trying to find the rhythm of it all. You hadn’t lied to the therapist when you said you’d found a groove, something steady in the storm of new parenthood.

But where you fit in it...that still felt blurry.

This morning, Tommy’s home. You’d heard him moving quietly through the nursery, the soft creak of the floorboards and the hushed murmurs he offered the baby as he changed a diaper. And now, he’s by your side, handing Sam over with no more than a gentle brush of your fingers. He doesn’t say much, but he sits back in bed, yawning. The morning is still early, the sky outside a pale wash of gray and blue.

After Sammy finishes nursing, you hold him close for a while, letting his warmth soak into your skin, getting him to let out a little burp against your shoulder. His breath is slow and steady, his small weight curled against your chest like he still belongs to your body. But eventually, he’s out cold, and you carefully get up lay him back to his nursery and set him in the crib.

When you walk back to your bedroom, it’s still quiet. Morning light filters in through the curtains, the house hasn’t woken up fully yet, and neither has the day. It feels like one of those rare soft moments, the ones you’d come to cherish just between you and your husband.

So you climb back into bed and turn toward Tommy, watching as he stretches out beside you. You touch his arm, then his chest, letting your hand linger.

“Come here,” you murmur, your voice still gentle from sleep.

He does. He settles in next to you, his arm rising to loop around your shoulders and pulling the blanket over both your bodies. You nestle close, your face tucked near his collarbone. It feels good. Solid. Safe.

You kiss him, tentative at first, testing the waters. He kisses you back, warm and a little surprised, but you press into it with more urgency, craving that spark you’ve been missing. The one that used to live between you so easily.

Your body is finally feeling like yours again—or, at least, starting to. For the first time in months, you feel that ache in your belly that has nothing to do with pain and everything to do with having a man with his arms around you. With missing the feeling of being wanted. Your blood feels warmer, your skin more sensitive. You’re ready. You want this. You want him.

Your hand moves to his waist, slips beneath his shirt. You press your chest against his, mouth parting against his.

But Tommy pulls back a little.

Not completely or abruptly, just… enough. His hand stills on your hip. His eyes dart toward the monitor on your bedside table.

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. You can feel it, that reluctance. The discomfort.

You pause, breath shallow in your throat.

“…What?” you whisper, “You okay?”

Tommy shifts, pulling his hand away. “Yeah. I just—” He sits up slightly, dragging a hand down his face. “I dunno. It’s early. Gotta keep an eye on the monitor. And I just…”

He doesn’t finish.

You sit back against the pillows, heart sinking. The moment has slipped through your fingers like sand, and now you’re left holding the shape of something that could’ve been.

It’s been months. And within the past week, you’d started to feel like you again. And your husband said no. Maybe not outright, but not a wholehearted yes either. He’s allowed that, sure. You just…didn’t expect it.

You pull the blanket tighter around yourself and say nothing.

Tommy exhales and swings his legs off the bed. “I’ll make some coffee,” he mutters.

You nod, eyes locked on the ceiling, willing the sting behind them to go away.

You sit across from him at the dinner table that evening, a simple dinner between you, picked up while you and Sammy napped that afternoon.

Sammy kicks his legs with soft, erratic movements, his little fists in the air. He coos soft and sweet, eyes fixed on the ceiling fan, then flickering toward the two of you. When you lean over and tickle his tummy, his mouth opens in a gummy grin.

You smile back, brushing your knuckles lightly over his soft cotton onesie. “You’re in a good mood today,” you murmur.

Across the table, Tommy forks food into his mouth with one hand, scrolling something on his phone with the other.

“How’s work been?” you ask, trying not to let the silence stretch too far.

He shrugs. “Busy. Contractors finally started pourin’ today.”

“That’s good.”

“Mm.”

You push a piece of food around your plate before bringing it to your mouth and chewing slowly as you glance at him. His face is unreadable, focused somewhere far away. Not cold, just distant.

“You’ve been quiet,” you say. “Even this morning. I just… I don’t know where your head is lately.”

Tommy sets down his fork, wiping his hands on a napkin.

He doesn’t look at you right away. Instead, he glances over at the baby, at the slow bounce of the seat, the soft dimples pulling in your son's cheeks as he looks back at him. They both smile at each other for a moment, though Tommy’s doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Like I said before” you offer, “I just don’t want to have to guess what you’re feelin’, if you’d just—”

“I’ve been seein’ Maria.”

The words land like a weight between you. No preamble. No softening. Just like that. 

You blink. The baby kicks again, cooing again for your attention.

The room goes still.

“You’ve been…seeing….” your brain feels like static, channels flickering through words as you try to piece them together, “Maria…”

Tommy sighs, rubbing his jaw. “Her an’ Frankie split, ya know. I’ve been stoppin’ by her place sometimes, see if I can help with anythin’. We got to talkin’. About everything—relationships, parenthood. It’s been nice, havin’ someone to talk to about all of it.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. 

He looks over at you, “We’ve been sleepin’ together.”

Your eyes don’t move from him, but they begin to burn with a slow, simmering rage. “When the hell did you even have time for that? Between the site and bein’ here with Sam—”

He shrugs, jaw tight. “Made time.”

You blink at him. The room feels smaller.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tommy.” you say, throwing down your napkin, the utensils clattering on the table.

His voice flares a little. “It ain’t like you and Joel haven’t—”

“Don’t,” you say sharply, standing up so fast your chair scrapes against the floor. “That is not remotely the same.”

Sammy fusses at the sudden tension, a little cry bubbling up in his chest.

“I’m not doin’ this right now,” Tommy mutters, shaking his head.

“You brought it up!” you shoot back. “You practically dropped it in my lap like some casual thing! Like it doesn’t wreck everything we’ve been trying to do!”

He doesn’t answer right away. He just looks past you, jaw tight, fingers flexing slightly against the table as Sam starts to cry again.

You take a breath. “How long?”

He finally looks at you. There’s no fight in his eyes. No remorse, either. Just tired acceptance.

“A few months.”

Your throat tightens. You push your chair back fully, bending down to lift Sammy from the bouncer, hitching him on your hip. He quiets as you lift him up, his little hands pressing into your collarbone, both of you looking at Tommy with red cheeks and glistening eyes.

“Well,” you say quietly, adjusting the baby's onesie with trembling fingers, “I was really trying to figure all this out. Trying to make it work.” You lift your eyes to him, something sharp creeping into your voice. “But I guess you’ve gone and made the decision for us.”

Tommy’s brow furrows, his jaw working like he wants to say something as he looks up at you from his seat. 

“I want a divorce, Tommy.”

He flinches like you hit him. But he doesn’t argue or raise his voice. After a moment, he sighs and just nods. Like it’s something he’s already thought about.

And that somehow hurts worse than if he’d fought you on it. He doesn’t even ask for an explanation. 

You hug Sammy a little closer, watching Tommy’s shoulders sag. 

“Why the hell did we even go to therapy if this was already happening? Why’d you sit next to me and bother to pretend like you were trying?”

“I was tryin’,” he says, but the words are thin, paper-flat. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I was tryin’ to be a good dad. And I figured…if I could just do that much…”

You hadn’t seen it. Not really. He’d been good with the baby, gentle and helpful, and you’d been too tired to notice how he’d already left you behind. Not physically. Emotionally. As a husband. As a partner.

And now, when you need him to show up and fight, there’s nothing left in him. Nothing but a shrug and a sigh.

You take a breath, force your voice to stay calm.

“Well, I hope Maria has room in her bed for you tonight,” you say, shifting the baby higher in your arms. “Get out.”

The next morning, you wake with a jolt.

The light streaming through the blinds is too bright. Not the soft pale glow of early morning, but that harsh, bright sunlight of the day already starting without you. You hadn’t woken up to the sound of Sam crying for his next meal. You shoot upright, heart hammering and hand already reaching towards the baby monitor on your bedside table.

But the crib is empty. 

You sit up quickly. The covers slide off your legs. Your throat tightens.

Empty.

For a second, your breath stops. You forget how to move. Your entire body goes still, locked in place as the worst possibilities flash through your mind like a siren. The room tilts slightly before the static hum from the monitor finally catches up, and then a soft sound filters through the tiny speaker. A voice.

It's just a gentle murmuring from Joel’s figure, voice low and quiet, the familiar rasp of it slowed into something gentle. You blink at the screen. The camera has tilted slightly, off center, but just enough to catch the edges of the rocker in the corner of the nursery. Joel’s legs are stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other, his body relaxed in that way only he ever manages. Your son is in his arms, nestled to his chest with a bottle held steady in one hand.

You hear him singing. 

“If I ever were to lose you…”

You sink back into the pillows, one hand pressed flat over your chest, trying to slow your breathing. The tension melts from your body all at once, leaving behind something else—something heavier.

“...I’d surely lose myself,”

You watch him on the monitor as the image flickers again. Joel is looking down at Sam like he’s the most important thing he’s ever held. His expression is so soft it makes your chest ache. The bottle is nearly empty. The baby’s fingers curl loosely around one of Joel’s thumbs, and Joel shifts just enough to cradle his small head more securely.

“Everything I have found dear, I’ve not found by myself…”

You stare and stare and stare at the monitor screen.

Your hand lifts to your mouth without thinking. Your palm presses firm against your lips, trying to stop the feelings before they start. 

“Try and sometimes you’ll succeed… to make this man of me…”

You don’t mean to cry. You don’t even feel it coming. One second, you’re watching Joel rock gently with your son, and the next your eyes blur, your shoulders hitch. A sob climbs up the back of your throat, muffled beneath your hand as you try to keep quiet.

You tell yourself it’s the postpartum. The hormones. The sleeplessness. The residual ache in your joints, the rawness in your body, the way your heart seems too big for your chest lately.

But you know that’s not the truth.

Not the whole truth.

You know it in the deepest parts of yourself. In the spaces you haven’t had time to visit lately. The ones that have gone untouched while you learned how to be someone new. A mother. A woman who survived childbirth. A woman who stayed up night after night whispering lullabies in the dark, nursing a child while the man she married quietly drifted further and further away.

It had been happening for months. You see it clearly now. You were so consumed with survival, with getting through the day and the next one after that, that you didn’t realize how far gone he was.

Tommy found something in Maria that you weren’t giving him. Something easier, maybe something softer. You don’t even blame him, not really. You know you’ve been hard to love lately. Closed off, frayed at the edges. But he didn’t fight for you. He just went and found someone else. And now that you know, the hollowness inside you twists into heartbreak.

“...All my stolen missing parts, I've no need for anymore…”

Joel’s voice settles over you like a blanket. You close your eyes, clutching the edge of the plastic monitor in your hand, as your ribs ache from trying not to fall apart completely.

You think of the way he always holds Sam like he was made for it. The way he instinctively knows how to quiet him when he fusses. The way his voice drops into something softer, something warmer, even when he’s speaking to you.

Joel has always been steady. Even in his silence, even in his desolation. He never once let you feel alone, even when you tried to push him away.

And now, as he rocks your child in the nursery, singing softly through the monitor, you feel something split open in your chest.

Because he never made you guess where his heart was.

He gave you everything without needing to be asked.

And it was never about obligation. He knew how to see you without looking away. He made you feel wanted. Desired. Not for what you could do. Not for the baby you could make, but for who you were.

Joel made it about you. Always you.

Tommy wanted a future. A family. A child. And in so many ways, he meant well. He was good. He gave you so much. But there had always been this sense, deep underneath it all, that you were trying to become the version of yourself he needed. That everything you were, everything you gave, was meant to fit into that shape he’d carved out for a life with you.

You curl onto your side, tears sliding across the pillow, the monitor still clutched in your hand.

“I believe,” Joel sings, voice quieter now, but still carrying through the static, “and I believe, ’cause I can see… our future days. Days of you and me.”

You sob quietly into the sheets, biting your knuckle so you won’t wake the whole house.

But eventually, a little while later, your body’s needs win over any semblance of staying in bed. Hunger gnaws at the edges of you, and the dull ache behind your ribs reminds you to get up. To eat, to do something. So you peel yourself from the bed with effort, padding barefoot into the hallway.

You expect silence, maybe Joel whispering to the baby in the nursery, maybe the sound of a lullaby or soft humming. What you don’t expect is the low hum of the washer and the sight of him shirtless over it, the laundry room door wide open. The soft light of the hanging bulb spills out around his frame, casting him in a light frame of gold.

He hears your steps immediately.

“Hey,” he says, glancing up.

Then he really looks at you, and his brow furrows. “Hey,” again, firmer this time, already stepping forward. His hands come to your face without hesitation, warm and steady. “What’s goin’ on, sweetheart?”

That voice, so kind and low and worried, is enough to split you wide open. Your chin trembles as your hands find his shoulders, curling into the back of his neck, fingers tangled in the curls at his nape. You don’t answer him. You just pull him down and kiss him.

It’s messy and desperate and tastes like salt and his minty toothpaste, but he meets you right there, mouth warm and open against yours, hands sliding around your head and into your hair to steady you.

When he pulls back, it’s just enough to breathe. “What’s—”

But you cut him off again. Another kiss, more feverish this time. You don’t want to talk. You don’t want to think. You just want to feel something that isn’t betrayal or failure or loneliness.

He kisses you back until he can’t anymore, and then he murmurs against your lips, “Baby, stop. Come on.”

You finally let him go, arms dropping limply to your sides. Rejection stings like vinegar in a wound. You know it’s not fair, Joel doesn’t owe you this, he doesn’t understand. But still, it’s there, sharp and fresh.

And he sees it, of course he does. He stays close, cupping your jaw, eyes darting between yours, steady and searching. “Talk to me.”

You deflect without thinking, looking down at the running wash. “What happened to your shirt?”

He blinks at the question, thrown for a second, but he lets it go. “Got spit up on by your son.”

“Your son,” you echo, soft and low. Your fingers brush over his chest, the hair there thick and coarse under your touch.

Joel huffs a soft laugh, and you feel his hands move to your ribs. He lifts you with ease, turning and setting you on top of the dryer, the machine quiet beneath you. He leans in, arms caging on either side of you with his palms flat, face close.

“Talk to me, please,” he says again, quieter now. He kisses the corner of your mouth, gentle and coaxing.

You drop your face into your hands. You can't look at him. Not yet. But Joel doesn’t let you hide, he takes your wrists carefully, the pads of his thumbs stroking over your pulse as he draws your hands away. He presses a kiss to one fingertip. Then another, and another. The tenderness of it threatens to break something open in you.

“I just… I feel like I do everything wrong,” you murmur.

Joel starts to shake his head. “You don’t—”

“I’ve been a terrible partner. To you. To Tommy.” Your voice wavers, thick with shame. “I pushed him away. I know I did.”

“Hey,” he says gently, leaning in, “no—”

But you shake your head, and Joel quiets immediately. He waits, still and steady, just like always. You can feel him holding space for you, not trying to fix it, not trying to rush you. Just being there.

You swallow hard, throat tight. “He told me…” You pause, breathing in a deep gulp of air, “Tommy told me he’s been seein’ Maria.”

Joel’s body tenses, the air goes very still, only filled with the sound of the washer, your uneven breathing, your sniffling.

“He what now?”

Your throat tightens. The tears burn again. You nod, swallowing hard.

“He’s been seeing her for months. Since her and Frankie separated.” You look down at your hands again, like maybe they’ll make this make sense. “He said they’ve been talkin’. About parenting. About everything. That it…just happened. And I just… I asked for a divorce, Joel.”

It takes him a long beat to respond. You watch the storm pass through him, one of anger, disbelief, something colder and harder. He closes his eyes, moving to press his forehead to yours. His breath is deep, slow, like he’s forcing himself to stay grounded.

His hands come back to your face, strong and warm.

“He’s got no idea,” Joel mutters, voice like gravel. “He has no clue what he’s got.”

You shake your head slightly, and Joel feels it, his grip only tightens.

“He has no fuckin’ clue what a prize you are,” he breathes.

Your hands find his wrists, clutching hard. Tears spill again, hot and fast.

“He’s a fuckin’ idiot if he thought he could do better. You are everything. I mean it.”

He kisses you, slow and sure, pressing into you like he’s trying to remind you with every breath who you are. Who you’ve always been.

“I don’t ever wanna hear you thinkin’ otherwise,” he murmurs between kisses. “Not ever. This ain’t on you.”

You let out a choked little sound that might’ve been a sob, might’ve been relief. His hands are so soothing as they begin to drag along your sides, your arms, warm against your waist, and you can’t help the way you lean into him. How your body starts to melt under his touch. You sigh, your lips parting under his, the kiss deepening all on its own. Your tongue meets his and something inside you shivers awake, slow and warm and wanting.

“I love you, Joel,” you whisper between kisses, your chest tight as the words spill out. “I’m sorry. For everything. For puttin’ you through all—”

“No,” he says quickly, firmly, pulling away for a moment to brush your hair back with a shake of his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t start with that. None of that was on you.”

He trails his mouth down your jaw, warm and open, grazing your pulse with his lips. Then your neck. Then the soft curve just beneath your ear.

“‘Nough of that apologizin’,” he says again, barely above a whisper.

You close your eyes as he plants little soft kisses against you, and you feel that deep want inside you awaken, making your skin sensitive and belly flip beneath his touch. You grip his shoulders and pull him back to your mouth, needing more of him, needing everything.

“I love you too,” Joel murmurs, kissing you deeper now, his hands spreading wide over your hips. “And miss you. Missed kissin’ you. Missed havin’ you close.”

“I miss you,” you whisper, broken and breathless. “All the time.”

Joel groans quietly against your mouth, like it physically hurts him to hear that.

“I’m right here, baby,” he breathes, kissing you again like a promise. “Ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Your breath shudders out of you, lips pushing against his. “Joel…” you whisper.

He stills, watching your face closely, his hands warm where they hold you.

“I’m ready,” you say, voice small but certain. “Please. I want you. So badly.”

His brow knits together, like he wants to be sure—completely sure. “You feel okay?” he asks quietly. “You sure you’re up for it?”

You nod, cupping his face with both hands now, the stubble scraping your palms. “I feel more myself than I have in months,” you say. “Please, Joel. I need you.”

And that seems like it’s enough for him. 

He kisses you again, but messier this time, wetter, like he can’t hold back anymore. His mouth slants over yours with more hunger, more heat, like he’s trying to get closer than skin will allow. His hands slide under your thighs and pull you further to the edge of the dryer, crowding into you until there’s nothing left between you but heat.

He kisses your jaw, your throat, the hollow beneath your ear, each place drawing a little gasp from your lips. And when you sigh his name again, something soft and breathless, Joel growls low in his chest.

His mouth moves lower, dragging over your collarbone, your chest. He pulls at the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it upward, exposing you to the open air and the warmth of his mouth. He kisses your breasts, slow and open-mouthed, tongue flicking softly as you arch under him.

“Christ,” he mutters against your skin. “Missed you so much. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

You whimper, thighs tightening around him, and he kisses down the curve of your stomach, and you lean back to give him access as his lips press into every inch he can reach, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your panties.

When he tugs them down, slow and careful, his eyes flick up to meet yours again.

“You still sure?” he asks, voice low.

You reach for him again, threading your fingers into his hair. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He hums softly, a little broken sound, and kisses the inside of your thigh and his hands slide down your legs, fingers grazing over your knees.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. His hands guide your legs apart with care, spreading you open for him as he kisses a path up from your knees. His lips graze the inside of one thigh, then the other, slow and careful, like he’s savoring the moment. Like he’s savoring you.

Your breath comes quicker the higher he gets, chest rising and falling with shallow little pants, your skin already flushed and hot. It’s been so long—months— since anyone touched you like this, looked at you like this, and Joel is looking at you like you’re holy.

He glances up, eyes half lidded and dark. “Always so good for me,” he murmurs against your thigh, voice a low drawl that makes your belly clench. “You’re burnin’ up, sweetheart.”

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice nearly breaking on his name. You can’t sit still, your hips already tilting toward his mouth like you’re starving.

His hands squeeze at your thighs. “I got you,” he says, and kisses right at the crease where your leg meets your hip. “Just let me take my time with you. Been dreamin’ about this.”

Then finally, his mouth finds you.

You cry out softly, your head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue parts you with aching slowness. Hooking your legs over his shoulders, a low hum of contentment rumbles from his throat as he tastes you. His fingers press into your thighs, holding you still as he works, mouth so gentle, so thorough it makes your legs tremble.

He pulls back just a little, breath hot against you. “So sensitive, baby,” he says, grinning a little when you mewl and try to press yourself closer.

Joel leans in again, licking a long stripe before wrapping his lips around you, tongue flicking gently before suckling around your clit. 

“Gonna make a mess of you, sweet girl. Make you come so many times before I even get my cock in you,” he pants, one of his hands sliding upward, the pads of his fingers finding you and pushing inside of you with slow, careful movement, curling just right once pressed to the knuckle. The stretch makes you moan, your hips undulating against his fingers and mouth. He groans into you, loving the sound, the way you clench around him.

He licks and strokes you, teasing until you’re shaking, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. He keeps one hand firm on your thigh, his eyes never leaving your face as you come unravel above him. Every gasp, every cry, he drinks it in like he’s been starving for the sound of it.

That pressure, the kind only he ever managed to pull from you like this and always so damn quick, coils deep along your spine, winding tighter with every curl of his fingers. And then he finds it, just that one spot, and presses.

You wail, high and ragged, your body bowing toward him as the wave crashes through you, fierce and fast and blinding. You’re cresting, cascading, bursting at the seams, coming hard around his fingers with a helpless cry that rips from your throat.

Joel groans into your center, holding you through it, letting you shake apart in his hands. 

His hands slow. One strokes your hip, the other smoothing gently over your thigh after he pulls it from your walls. He kisses the inside of your leg, then again a little higher, then higher still, trailing a path back up along your skin.

You feel his breath first, then the low rasp of his voice.

"How many more you think you can do?" he murmurs against you, lips brushing against your stomach.

Your head falls back, neck craning as you catch your breath, body limp and overheated, sweat clinging to your skin. You run your fingers through his hair again, a gentle tug, and sigh with a breathy laugh.

“Oh god,” you whisper, still panting. “I don’t know if I could take any more.”

Joel chuckles against your thigh, hot and smug and a little devilish. He lifts his head just a little, and you look back down at him to see a devilish glint in his eye.

“I don’t know, sweetheart…” he says, bringing his hand between your thighs. You jolt as his thumb begins brushing the lightest feather touch to your swollen, sensitive clit. “Our record’s five just from this. Think I could get at least six.”

Your eyes widen, your jaw dropping a little in disbelief, a laugh bubbling up in your chest. “Joel—”

But he just winks, and before you can finish whatever protest you were about to make, he dives back in, tongue and fingers working in tandem like a man on a mission. And all you can do is gasp, clutch his hair tighter, and try not to completely fall apart all over again.

But he makes you. 

Again. 

And again.

And again.

“Okay, okay, okay!” you eventually squeal, breathless and trembling, your whole body buzzing as you push him away from your soaked center. You're slick with sweat, flushed all over, and the insides of your thighs slide against one another, wet from your own arousal. Your skin is glistening, the aftermath of release painting every inch of you. Joel slowly pulls his fingers from between your legs, wet and glistening with the proof of your seventh—yes, seventh—orgasm.

You pant, trying to catch your breath, still twitching from his attack on you. “I’m only just getting back into this,” you manage, voice thin and hoarse with pleasure. “You gotta go easy.”

“That was me goin’ easy,” Joel mutters, standing and kissing you before you can protest. He tastes like you, tangy and sweet. His beard is damp, his lips sticky from the mess he made of you, and when he plunges his tongue into your mouth, you moan at the flavor of yourself on him. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight, then carefully lifts you from the dryer and carries you down the hallway.

As he passes the nursery, he whispers against your ear, “How much more time you think we got before he’s up?”

“At least twenty minutes.”

“Perfect.”

He nudges your bedroom door open with his boot and steps inside, the room dim and soft in the mid morning light. He lays you gently down on the bedspread and doesn’t move right away. He stays there, looking at you like he’s memorizing every part of you. One hand lifts to brush your damp hair back from your face. His eyes are still dark with want, but there’s something else there too, something quieter.

“I love you,” he says, voice steady and low.

You feel the words tighten in your throat, a rush of emotion sweeping over you. Your hands reach up to cup his face, fingers threading into his hair.

“I love you, Joel.”

He kisses your chin, your jaw, the tip of your nose, then finds your mouth again and kisses you slow and deep, like he’s sealing it in place.

Then he sits up, and you watch as he strips off what little clothing he has left. You don’t look away, taking in every inch of him.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmur.

He laughs under his breath, bending back over to kiss your neck, his beard rasping gently across your oversensitive skin.

“You’re so pretty,” he replies, voice teasing.

“I’m serious,” you say, smiling.

“So am I. Now shut your mouth before I start blushin’.”

You both go quiet then, but the smiles don’t fade. You just look at each other for a long, suspended moment, something soft and unspoken settling between your bare skin and the morning light.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says eventually, voice low. “About my brother.”

You shake your head, hands still buried in his hair, “I don’t wanna think about that right now.”

He nods, leaning down to kiss you again, slow and warm, like a balm.

“Just wanna show you how good you are,” he murmurs against your lips. “How perfect. For me. With me.”

You hesitate for a second, remembering the boundary you’d tried to put in place last time. No more messy comparisons or crossing wires. No more talk of Tommy during sex. But right now, with Joel hovering over you, his cock hard and hot against your thigh, your body still shaking from his mouth, all you want is to feel wanted. Claimed. Loved in the most primal, unshakable way.

“No one makes me feel like you do,” you whisper. It slips out before you can stop it, the truth of it curling in the space between you.

Joel stills slightly, lifting his head just enough to catch your eyes. “What was that?”

You look right at him, breath catching a little. “Tommy could never make me feel as good as you do, Joel.”

And maybe it’s petty, maybe it's mean and vengeful, but you don’t care. Because Joel’s eyes darken instantly. A low sound rumbles from his chest, and he leans in, lips brushing yours, voice barely held back. He nips at your bottom lip before murmuring:

“Say it again.”

You swallow, your pulse thrumming in your throat, your body still trembling from everything he’d already given you.

“You fuck me better than he ever could,” you whisper, breath hitching in your lungs. “Better than anyone ever has.”

Joel groans, low and rough, like it’s been pulled straight from his chest. He presses his forehead into the crook of your neck, the heat of his breath hot against your skin. One hand slides down to your thigh, gripping firmly, spreading you wider as he nestles between your legs. His other hand wraps around himself, thick and heavy in his palm.

You reach down, your smaller hand covering his, fingers curling over his wrist as you guide him to your center.

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs, his voice reverent as he rubs the head of his cock through your slick folds. “So wet.”

Your breath shudders out, your lips brushing against his cheek. “For you, all for you,” you whisper, words trembling on your tongue. “I missed you, missed the way you make me feel. Every time.”

Joel groans again, rutting forward just enough to press the head of his cock at your entrance.

“Fill me up, Joel,” you breathe, your voice soft and aching. “Please.”

He sinks into you with a groan that sounds torn between pleasure and pain, the thick stretch of him dragging against every hypersensitive inch of your walls. It’s too much and not enough all at once. He fills you up completely, your pussy fluttering and pulsing just trying to accommodate the size of him, the heat of him. You gasp as your back bows, your hands scrabbling at his shoulders for purchase.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, legs wrapping tight around his hips, anchoring him to you. “You’re so…so deep.”

Joel’s head drops to your shoulder, his mouth pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as he slowly starts to move, moaning into your skin. He takes long, languid strokes that feel endless, like he’s dragging himself through molasses, letting you feel every inch of him, every vein, the blunt head catching just right.

“You take me so goddamn well, baby,” he mutters, voice thick and reverent. “Always do. Always so tight, so fuckin’ wet for me.”

His body eclipses yours entirely, shielding you from the rest of the world like he’s your shelter, your storm, your everything. His forearms bracket your head, caging you in, the muscles in his back working under your palms as he drives into you with slow, consuming force.

“Feels so good, Joel,” you whisper, mouth pressing into his as his head turns to you, and you let out a breathless laugh as you admit, “Feels like you’re splitting me in half,”

You kiss him deeper, your tongue sweeping through his mouth before you say, “You make me feel so good, so wanted. Like I’m yours.”

Joel pulls back just enough to look at you again, lips kiss bitten and his eyes wild with heat and something deeper.

“You are mine,” he says, jaw tight. “Look at you, baby. Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are. Laid out for me like this. All mine.”

His thrusts grow deeper, more purposeful, as he shifts the angle of his hips. The new rhythm hits something inside you that makes you cry out, your fingers clawing at his back. Joel’s lip snarls at the look on your face, that primal, possessive side of him clawing its way out as he growls low in his throat, a sound more animal than human. He dips his head to take your breast in his mouth, sucking your nipple between his teeth while his hips never stop.

Your body lights up at the sensation, pleasure ripping through you as you keen beneath him, sweat beading at your temple.

He releases you with a wet pop, panting against your skin, the sound making your walls convulse and flutter around him. “You feel that, sweetheart? That’s how much I missed you. Missed this tight little pussy. Fuck—” he bites down gently on your other breast, then kisses the sting away. 

You whimper, your body jerking as his cock pulses inside you.

“You’re so fucking big,” you gasp, “I can feel you everywhere—Joel—oh my god—”

“That’s it,” he grits, one hand slipping down to rub slow, aching circles over your clit. “Come on, baby. Come again for me. Let me feel you squeeze me. I need it. Need to feel you.”

Your head tips back as the pleasure builds again, white-hot and unforgiving. Your thighs tremble around his waist, slick with sweat and arousal, the sound of skin on skin obscene in the quiet of the room.

“Joel, I—fuck, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he rasps, speeding up, fucking you harder now, his mouth at your ear. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Come for me. Right now, mama. Right on this cock.”

You shatter for him, again, your whole body locking up as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your vision blurring with the force of it. Joel curses, groaning as he watches you fall apart, his hips stuttering with the effort to hold back.

He doesn't stop.

Joel fucks you, his rhythm slow but steady as you milk him through your orgasm, savoring the stretch, watching your body open up around him. You’re soaked, still twitching and trembling as you come down, and he’s so thick but it doesn’t matter. You take him anyway. Your cunt flutters, pulling him in, and he grits his teeth at the way you clench down on him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice wrecked. “You feel like heaven, such a good girl for me,”

Your nails dig into his biceps as he starts to move faster again, hips grinding deep and mean, dragging moans out of you with every thrust. The stretch, the pressure, the weight of him has you gasping again, mouth open, eyes fluttering.

“Joel—”

“Uh-uh,” he growls, hand wrapping around your jaw, not tight, just enough to hold your head still so you’ll look at him. “Don’t start with the whining, sweetheart. You wanted this. You begged for it. Said no one fucks you like I do, remember? Look at me.”

You do, whimpering and pulling his thumb into your mouth, suckling on it, and that only makes him smile, a little dark and wicked but a sweetness still there when he kisses you over it.

“That’s right,” he says, rocking into you harder, filthier. “You like it when I ruin you. When I split you open and stuff you full of cock. You fuckin’ love it.”

You cry out as his hips slam forward, the angle brutal and perfect. He pulls his hand away to watch your tits bounce with every thrust, swollen and heavy.

“Christ,” he groans, “Look at these tits. So full. So fuckin’ pretty. My girl. The mother of my goddamn baby and still beggin’ for it so pretty, too.”

You clench around him at that, and he laughs, low and breathless.

“Oh, I know you like that, like when I talk dirty to you, huh, baby? When I tell you how good you are like this, all open and wet and mine?”

“Joel—please—”

“You’re fuckin’ milkin' me,” he growls, deep and low and primal, pulling back to watch his cock disappear into you again and again. “Drippin’ all over me. Look at this pussy, baby. Takin’ what’s hers, tight as a damn vice.”

You’re spiraling, thighs twitching, body already racing toward another climax. Joel feels it, sees it, smells it on you. His hand drops between your legs and he starts circling your clit, fingers rough, perfect, practiced.

“What’re we at now? Eight? Wanna make it nine?” 

You shake your head, hands gripping his wrist, pushing him away.

“But you feel so good, clenchin’ around me like that baby, I think she wants it, damn near loves it.”

You shake your head again, but it’s half-hearted now, your grip on his wrist already weakening. The moment his fingers start circling again—tight and relentless, exactly where you need it—you whimper, back arching, thighs quivering around his hips.

“You’re so goddamn perfect. Every inch of you.”

You exhale hard, trying to catch your breath. “Joel…”

He leans over you, brushing a thumb along your cheekbone, then down to your lips, which are swollen and slick. “Talk to me, baby.”

“I love you,” you breathe, blinking up at him.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says breathlessly.

Your eyes squeeze shut, and the tears finally slip free, clinging to your lashes before they fall. You nod, lips trembling as you breathe through it, the words cracking out of you like you’ve been holding them back for years.

“You’ve always made me feel safe. Like... like I’m home.”

You don’t even know where it’s coming from, only that it’s true. Maybe it’s the release. Maybe it’s the eighth orgasm. Maybe it’s the months of aching and wanting and feeling like you’d lost yourself. But now, with him, his hands on you, his body still buried inside you, you feel found.

His hand cups your jaw, steadying you. “You are home. Right here with me. Always.”

You whimper as he slows down, still just as deep, stretching every inch of you. It’s overwhelming, even after everything, but it’s perfect—he’s perfect—and you cling to him like you might fall apart without him.

“Look at me,” he whispers.

You do. You meet those heavy, hazel and honey-dark eyes, and he stares back like he’s memorizing you all over again.

“Mine.” he murmurs, not asking, just claiming. “Always have been.”

Your breath stutters, your thighs twitching again. “Yours,” you echo, and he smiles like he’s never heard anything better.

“Say it again.”

“Yours, Joel,” you whimper. “I’m yours.”

“Damn right,” he whispers, picking up pace again. “And I’m yours. Every piece.”

You hold on with everything you have, arms locked around his neck, legs trembling, ankles crossed tight at his back, but your body is barely hanging on. You’ve lost count more than once of your orgasms, your body exhausted. Every nerve ending is raw, every breath shallow. You’re shaking, soaked, spread wide and taken fully, your skin slick with sweat and his touch.

He fucks you like he’s starved for it, like every part of him belongs here, in this moment, inside you. And it’s too much. The way his body dwarfs yours, his broad chest brushing your flushed, sensitive breasts, the deep, aching drag of his cock that finds every part of you like it was made to. You feel him everywhere. In your lungs. Your ribs. Your throat.

“Please,” you whisper, or maybe you moan, it doesn’t matter. It’s all coming apart at the seams, your vision blurring with tears of pleasure and overstimulation. “Please come with me.”

Joel groans, low and guttural, his hand cradling the back of your head as he presses a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your lips. “I will,” he breathes. “I got you. I always got you.”

Then you’re gone.

The world whites out. Your body locks, then convulses. Your thighs shake violently, clamping around his hips as your back arches off the bed. You feel everything and nothing—just heat, just pressure, just the overwhelming wave of pleasure snapping through your core and spiraling you under. You can’t breathe, can’t see. All you hear is Joel, panting and whispering your name like a prayer, his voice like static through the roar in your ears.

He follows, and you can feel it all. That deep, jolting pulse as he buries himself inside you and comes with a desperate, broken grunt. You feel every thick, hot rope of spend filling you, the warmth spreading deep, spilling from the seams. He twitches inside you, stilling as he empties himself completely.

Your eyes stay closed, the blackness of your lids soothing as your body pulses with the aftershocks of everything. You feel Joel, though. You feel the way his fingers press into your hair, tethering you to reality. His length still inside you, still pulsing, his lips still kissing you softly, over and over, like he’s trying to bring you back from wherever you just went.

“I got you, pretty girl,” he murmurs, barely audible over the sound of your panting. “I got you.”

You hum in response, tongue swiping over dry lips, lungs still trying to remember how to breathe.

“Holy shit,” you manage, voice hoarse, a dazed smile tugging at your mouth.

Joel chuckles, the sound rough and full of affection. “Too much?”

You shake your head slowly, the movement loose, hazy. You open your eyes to finally meet his, warm and swimming with something that settles you down to the bones.

“No,” you breathe. “Perfect.”

The crackle of the baby monitor cuts through the last of the silence, followed by a sharp, insistent cry. You both go still for a beat, like your minds haven’t quite caught up yet.

You groan softly, pressing your palm to your face. “Guess it’s my turn.”

Joel’s already moving, slowly sitting up and reaching for his pants at the foot of the bed. “Nah, I got 'em.”

You blink at him through the strands of your hair, still splayed against the pillow. “No, it’s okay, you were with him all morning—”

“I said I got him,” he says again, firmer this time, but not unkind. He leans over, brushes your hair gently away from your forehead, and kisses the space just above your brow. “You take a shower. We’ll join you in a minute. He needs a bath anyway. Little guy stinks.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying not to smile. “Oh, so like you?”

His hand stills on his belt, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Easy,” he warns, though you can see the twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

You giggle, covering your smile with the sheet as he buttons his fly and finishes dressing. He’s half-disheveled, hair a mess, skin blotchy red and a sheen of sweat across his chest, but still. You think he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Joel heads for the door, pausing just before the threshold. He glances back at you, eyes soft, a little smirk tugging at his lips. “You're gonna be okay. We will.”

You watch him go, heart aching in that strange, quiet way it does when you realize you're deeply, hopelessly in love. Not just with the way he touches you or how he fucks you—but with the way he remembers the baby needs a bath, the way he tells you to rest, the way he makes you feel safe and wanted and not alone in any of it.

The bed is warm around you, the room still thick with the scent of him, of you, of what you’ve just shared. You press your hand to your belly, smile against your wrist, and finally let yourself breathe.

It's going to be okay.

6 Months Later

Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Sammy, Happy birthday to you!

Applause erupts around the yard, a chorus of clapping and laughter and camera shutters. Sam just blinks, stunned by the attention, his round cheeks dusted pink as he stares at the sea of faces all beaming at him.

Joel steps up with the smash cake, all blue and white icing swirled across the top just like you made it the night before, carefully piping it under the glow of the kitchen light after Sammy had gone down. He sets it on the highchair, and the baby leans forward, captivated, pudgy hands curling into tight fists at the edge of the tray.

You guide him gently, pressing your own finger into the frosting to show him what to do. When you pop the sweet mess into your mouth, Sam follows, smashing his hand into the cake and shoving a generous amount into his mouth with startling determination.

You laugh, licking icing off your finger, glancing back at Joel beside you. “He gets that sweet tooth from you, you know.”

Joel hums in amused protest, slipping his arm around your shoulders. He dips a finger into the frosting and swipes it across your nose. You gasp, playfully scandalized, and he leans in to kiss it off with a quick, warm brush of his lips. Around you, no one notices. Phones are out, Sammy is being thoroughly documented from every angle, and the low buzz of chatter and laughter fills the air.

When the kiss ends, you linger just long enough to rest your head against Joel’s shoulder, soaking it in—an entire year of you and your baby. And Joel. Memories fly through your mind like a cinematic reel, first words, first steps, first tooth. He was growing too fast for his own good.

Then your eyes catch on something across the yard.

Tommy and Maria stand off to the side, a little tucked away but not distant. Maria has baby Abigail on her hip, the girl wearing a pale pink dress and matching bow, her tiny fingers waving excitedly in the direction of the cake. Tommy’s arm brushes Maria’s as they both smile toward Sam, and for a moment, it’s almost hard to remember how much it hurt—how messy things were.

“Dada!” Sammy calls out from the highchair, cake smeared from cheek to ear, holding up a sticky hand like an offering. Joel smiles, crouching to take a bite straight from his tiny fist. The baby squeals, delighted.

You leave Joel to play and cross the yard, dodging through guests of familiar neighbors, a few folks from Joel’s job, Sarah’s friends.

“Hey,” you say softly, coming to stand in front of Maria and Tommy.

“Hi,” they both say in near unison. There’s no tension in their voices, just tired smiles and that kind of weary, mutual understanding that only time can build.

You smile at the toddler in Maria’s arms. “Hi, miss Abby,” you coo, brushing a finger along her arm. “You enjoying the party? You get yourself some lunch?”

Abigail nods emphatically, then stretches out her arms toward you, open and wanting. “Auntie!”

Maria lets you take her without hesitation, and the baby settles in your arms with the trust of someone who already knows you love her. You hold her close, already sticky from something and warm, and glance back at your son, who’s now banging his fist against the tray while Joel pretends to be scandalized by every slap of icing.

“Thank you for coming,” you say to Maria, voice quiet but sincere.

“Of course,” she replies without missing a beat. “She’s been talking about ‘Sammy’s party’ for days.”

Tommy adds, rubbing a hand along Maria's back, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You nod, smiling, and shift Abby against your hip. “You wanna go help Sam eat some of that cake?”

“Yes!!!” she squeals, and all three of you laugh.

And as you carry Abby back into the fray of laughter and frosting and the remains of one-year-old chaos, you feel the ache in your chest shift.

It’s not what any of you imagined. It’s more complicated, more layered. But the love is still there. There's effort. There's presence.

It’s messy, but it's family.

And family matters.

you guys 😭 what a journey it has been! THANK YOU so much for everyone who has been along for the ride with me. Whether you've been here since the very start, where I'd listened to some podcast tell a reddit story about a brother helping a couple conceive and falling in love, or maybe you found it somewhere along the way, i'm so so grateful you're here.

I had no idea it would grow into something like this or that so many of you would love it the way you have. Your comments, reblogs, messages, they mean the world to me. You've made the story feel bigger than just some silly joel miller fanfic I wrote in my free time. you made this truly special.

thank you for reading, for sharing, for sending me all your feelings, for rooting for these chaotic characters.

I love you. I'm eternally grateful.

love, may x

taglist: @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @alidiggory92 @pinkylouise @izzy698 @doblasftcisco @devotedlypaleluminary @elsplayground @puduvallee @victoriaholland @legoemma @leenieweenie12 @possiblyafangirl @alitaar @mads198-9 @emmaoc10 @auteurdelabre @the-last-twin-of-krypton @lilasskicker2 @levislegislation @flowercrowns-goodvibes@starmurdock, @94namkooksworld, @staley83, @escapefromrealitylol, @starkleila, @ashleyfilm, @honeyydip, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @brooklynbbxo, @ratoonstown, @caroldxnvxrs, @lovelykat001, @snowlycanroc, @powellssaturn, @marylimlp, @pklol, @tomie-it-girl, @nayomi247, @joshylanefleet, @pedrospurplerain, @person-005, @beewithouthoney, @thegoldenhood, @aj0elap0l0gist

[twilightofthesandwiches]

…So we do have some implications that Kris… at the very least, does not care for Ralsei as much as they care for Susie, or as much as Ralsei cares for them. Most notably with Chapter 2’s Teas;

I think also maybe their tendency in the recent chapters to point out the differences between Ralsei and Asriel might be related to it. They don’t want to compare Ralsei to their beloved older brother.

But I wonder if that’s beginning to change. Most notably with all the scenes of Kris and Susie comforting Ralsei and encouraging him to be himself… Obviously we are the ones telling Kris to say the words, but... it seems like it was their choice to give him a hug.

Which kinda reminds me of our first indication that Kris genuinely considers Susie their friend.

Plus, like, sure we CAN force Kris to say certain things, but they can also subtly rebel against it by saying things 'weirdly'

or immediately contradicting our words with their own.

So.... not only do they don't really resist this attempt to help Ralsei, here is how they react if you try and pick one of the most flagrant "no Ralsei you and your feelings don't matter (:" options.

They are literally fighting against the Player's control to try and emotionally support Ralsei.

I wonder if this was a matter of Kris' thoughts about Ralsei actually mirroring many Players, that they also thought he was weird and shady and that his niceness was too-good-to-be-true and that he's probably manipulative and evil. And with the revelations about Ralsei and the way he thinks about himself and his reasoning for keeping secrets in Chapters 3 and 4, it's only now that Kris is starting to let their guard down around him and allows themself to like him.

Or if it's a matter of... clearly Kris' situation with the SOUL (AKA us) is a very unhappy one for them. Even if it also seems to be part of the plan Kris and Evil Phone Voice are on, it is not a pleasant experience for Kris. It might be that the thing that endeared them to Susie so much in the first place is the way that she also chafes and rebels against being 'railroaded' by the prophecy stuff all through Chapter 1 - and therefor they were always put off by Ralsei's happy-peppy lack of resistance to following anything the prophecy said....

Hell... we STILL don't know what these two talk about when the SOUL is away following Susie... if Ralsei told Kris they need to put on a happy smile and accept being a 'Cage' for an Amoral Time God, that will certainly sour their relationship.

But now Ralsei is opening up to how much this fatalism has caused him pain, and now he's starting to push back against it. And maybe now Kris can understand that Ralsei is also in the same boat as them and Susie, that they are kindred spirits.

Or maybe... that whole deal with Kris and the Evil Phone Voice seems to indicate they might've known about Dark Worlds and how they work before the story of the game properly starts, and at least that they understand them more than Susie does. Maybe Kris themself thought of Darkners the same way Ralsei thought. Maybe they were distant from Ralsei because they saw him as not 'real'. And watching Ralsei unlearn this mindset is causing Kris to reconsider the way they were thinking of Dark Worlds and Darkners.

Or... well... it could just be as simple as Kris seeing how much Ralsei matters to Susie. We have constant reminders through these two chapters of how much Susie cares for Ralsei and how much she sees them as a trio. So even if Kris just doesn't Vibe with Ralsei, thinks he's annoying or weird or creepy or whatever, Kris cares for Susie, so they know they have to care about her other very best friend.

I wonder if the reason behind the Person-Flavor-Teas being 'Rotten' past Chapter 2 is because Chapter 3 and 4 actually have a lot of subtle shifts in the characters' relationships and it would've been unpractical to keep track of them all, or simply narratively unsatisfying to spell them numericaly out like that.

[akanemnon]

So um..................

I know your on a break but uh.. it was bound to happen but I suppose some things don't make sense now in twin runs right like toroiel.?

But also OH MY GOD WHAT A RIDE

What are your thoughts on the new chapters?

I suggest you read this post or the FAQ

Either way Deltarune Chapter 3 and 4 talk under the cut

SOOOOOOO that just happened.

I know the two chapters would be very different in tone, but I didn't think it would be THAT stark of a contrast.

I REALLY did not expect the Roaring Knight to make an appearance that early as Chapter 3. I honestly thought they would make their first appearance in Chapter 4, BUT I'M NOT COMPLAINING. Because WHOOOO that was a ride. I'm quite bad at the game, so I didn't get the shadow mantle before the encounter. But I DID see what happens when you actually go ahead and beat them! That puts so much shit into perspective. Especially with everything that's involving Kris.

I'm sure the fandom is busy putting all the puzzle pieces together and stuff. I know I AM! But it does feel nice to see that my interpretation of their dislike for the Player but outright needing them is pretty accurate. I didn't expect to be smacked with hockey stick, but hey... I getchu Kris. And I am really sorry.

ANOTHER thing I called was how dead people can turn into Darkners when tethered to an object. I feel really vindicated in my writing when I saw that.

Also can we talk about Gerson???? CAN WE TALK ABOUT MOTHERFUCKING GERSON BOOM???? Man, I am SO GLAD he got to shine in chapter 4. His presence in Undertale as a veteran of the human and monster war was already super interesting. And now he is IN THE FRIGGIN SPOTLIGHT AS A MENTOR FIGURE. I AM EATING THIS UP. Also his battle theme is a certified banger.

Oh yeah, speaking of the characters in general, I am SO HAPPY how much growth we got from both Susie and Ralsei in these two chapters. It is so insane how well-written these characters are. IT FEELS SO FUCKING REAL. Man, this is why Toby is such a big inspiration in writing for me. AND I DIDN'T EVEN MENTION TENNA YET????? I swear, when I first saw him I was instantly thinking of all the other Tenna interpretations out there and how they could have NEVER predicted this. And the SPAMTON CONNECTIONS??? These two idolized one another and took so much from each other but could never be the other. That is both sad and hilarious at the same time-

ALSO THE FUCKING TITAN AT THE END????? Now I can see why Toby would've never been able to do Deltarune as his first project. This shit was INSANE /verpos

I could go for hours about this btw. Still finding secrets here and there and rewriting bits from The Other Script as we speak...

[tornadoxp]

Curse Swap AU: Sam

to be perfectly honest this was mostly inspired by @sodiumpentothol's Wrong Side of the Bed AU.

So in this AU Sam gets immediately cursed by being exposed to the light from his window. Luckily, he doesn't get a good look at the visitor so he doesn't immediately get sucked into the sky. unluckily though he has been given the Jeanne special of a drawn-out version of his flawed ritual transformation.

Over the course of 15 days Sam will wake up to some new additions. These changes initially would be small, and he could pass as a normal person but right around day 4 he gets a new pair of arms and the changes there on become exponentially more dramatic.

Gameplay wise this replaces Sam Leveling up making each phase increase his stats and give him new skills. Sam could assess himself at the start of a new day to describe what has changed and give insight to what new skills or challenges he has to deal with.

Specific phases would change what Sam would need to deal with for example.

sorry I'm too lazy to draw more Sam.

at day 12~13ish Sams eyes will start splitting like this giving him blurry vision. During this phase Sam starts every encounter with the blindness debuff so this day could either be used for other non-combative tasks or he could focus mainly on support for his ally's.

The most interesting thing for me is how this would change his interactions with other characters. Sam would be treated differently depending on what phase he's on. In the first phases Sam would be basically treated as he is by default but on later phases be treated with suspicion, fear, or at worse outright hostility.

This would pose the question on whether Sam should risk exploring dangerous areas to meet and build rapport with others while he still can or allow his transformation to progress to be stronger but lose out on potential ally's and traders.

The relationships he does develop with other characters will be tested as the days goes on. With some characters wondering if Sam would still be sane by the end of it. But with a little luck and a lot of trust Sam still has the potential to find companionship in the apocalypse.

In a future post I'll talk about how the Sams final transformation would be affected by factors like his mental state, how many allies he has, his perception of himself, and the rituals progress. But I think I'll save it when I talk about the endings.

[wearepaladin]

Something that astounds me is that there hasn’t been any serious attempt by anyone to depict a young Aragorn story. More specifically, of his adventures under the name Thorongil, Eagle of the Star, during the period between the Hobbit and Fellowship. Let me outline what takes place here.

From 2957 to 2080, Aragorn served in the courts of both Rohan and Gondor at a critical time, as this not long into Sauron’s return as a power in Middle Earth, and being an existential threat to both kingdoms. That’s 23 years of interesting stories to tell, showing several critical details about his development.

1. It shows him learning how to be a leader outside the confines of either Elrond’s or the Dunedain’s influence, where his role was known, if kept secret, and immediately respected once he took his role of chieftain, while in Gondor and Rohan under an assumed name and initially an outsider, his eventual leadership and trust had to be hard earned and genuine. This would prove critical in the War of the Ring, as he would be able to rally both Rohan and Gondor at their times of greatest need.

2. He also learns the ways of Gondor and Rohan as a government servant, earning the respect of both kingdoms Thengel and Steward Ecthellion, and thus know both the culture and the way these kingdoms were run. If you have ever heard someone sneer at Aragorn’s leadership lacking an understanding of the Gondorian Tax Code, just point to this fact.

3. All of the above situates Aragorn to be in a story that contains both courtly intrigue and a long war against the existential threat of Sauron. While he was beloved by Ecthellion for example, Denethor had no such warm compunctions towards him, and that had to lead to some tense moments that could translate well into a story of court intrigue.

4. Aragorn also lead a critical victory against the Corsairs of Umbar, Allies of Sauron, destroying Sauron’s primary naval attack force and slowing the plans of Conquest considerably. Umbar had a long history of those among Númenor who cleaved close to Sauron, and any depiction of them would provide an antagonist that hasn’t received as much focus as other servants of Sauron, allowing for some interesting exploration.

5. At the end of the 23 years of service, Aragorn went East, into enemy Territory, and it’s from his recounting of this we know a bit about Rhun, the home associated with the Easterlings, and where the stars appear different in the night sky. Outside of Mordor, are whole groups of people that have never received a fair look on what life is like under Sauron, and would not make peace with the men of the west until Sauron’s defeat. Here we could see not only men but the dark elves who never went west to see the light of the trees, who could have a culture quite different front their western cousins, and where the two blue wizards fought a unknown war against Sauron.

6. When Aragorn returned home via Lothlórien , he reunited and began the process of courting Arwen and gave her the Ring of Barahir, and she in turn abandoned her mortality for him. A powerful ending that heralds all the future events to come.

In short, you got character growth, you have conflict of intrigue and against evil, foes and cultures previously unexplored, and potential for new faces and heroes to invest in and hope for. When the Legendarium becomes open for all to write and publish, that is the novel I want to read and maybe even write myself. I’m amazed no one else seems to have hit on it.

[tevantarlos]

Fact Time

So, today I woke up and chose violence. This post is directed at Destiel fans in the Supernatural fandom and Buddie fans in the 9-1-1 fandom. I think the majority of you fans, need to learn how to separate fiction from reality. Fact # 1: Dean is not gay. He is not bisexual. He is not anything other than straight, which is how the character has been portrayed through the entire show.

Fact 2: Destiel is not canon, never has been canon, and never will be canon.

Fact 3: What is canon, is that Cas admitted he's in love with Dean. In a romantic way, and not just a best friend way. Fact 4: Dean has never said he is in love with Cas. He has called Cas his best friend ever since Cas joined the show in season 4.

Fact 5: Eddie is not gay. He is not bisexual. He is not anything other than straight, which is how the character has been portrayed through the entire show.

Fact 6: Buddie is not canon, never has been canon, and never will be canon.

Fact 7: What is canon, is that Eddie literally said he is straight in season 8 of 9-1-1. It's not to throw fans off the scent to pull a surprise scene later. It's literally the show's way of telling Buddie fans that these two characters are just best friends and family, nothing more, and to go write and enjoy fanfiction. Fact 8: Neither Buck or Eddie have said they're in love with each other. They have said they love each other like brothers, like family.

Fact 9: Fanon is a thing. A wonderful, beautiful thing. In fanon you can make whatever you want happen, like Destiel, or Buddie. But please remember that it's just fanon and not canon in any way shape or form.

Fact 10: Supernatural was not homophobic for not putting Dean and Cas together. Yes, the show aired on what was considered the 'gay channel' at the time, the CW, who liked to shoehorn in gay and bi characters and a ton of poc characters to be overly inclusive and I for one, have no problem with that. What I have a problem with, is people accusing the show of queerbaiting, when it wasn't queerbaiting. They never said Dean and Cas were together. For the majority of the show they never said either character was gay or bi. The only thing the show said, before Cas's revelation, was that the two were best friends.

I know those fans are going to bitch in the comments and I'm ready for it. The block button is a beautiful thing and it keeps me from having to listen to the lunatics. However, if you are a Destiel or Buddie fan who knows the actual difference between canon and fanon and wants to talk to me about either show or sets of characters, I'm happy to do so.

[toyatenmacanon]

characters i hit with the not cis beam, part 1: pjsk

* warning: mentions of gender dysphoria and transphobia and periods

shiho: shes transfem trust me (ik transmasc is a popular hc but its literally just bcs shes the most masc girl in pjsk so i decided that shes transfem) she/her

airi: demigirl (i dont know. she is afab tho she just sliced their gender in half and fed it to mother earth or smtg) she/they no pref

an: genderqueer (cannot explain but shes got every gender in there. mostly girl but like theres a bit more in there) any prns she/her pref

akito: transmasc (trans shinonomes canon btw guys trust me) he/him

toya: masc nb (i dont know if this is projecting or not. but theyve got a gender and it aint the one everyone thinks. its ok they dont mind) they/them but doesnt mind he/him

tsukasa: transmasc demiboy (i dunno. hes just like that.) he/they

nene: transfem (ruis fault. dont ask how, but it is his fault) she/they heavy she pref

rui: transmasc (trans rooftop duo canon i dont want to repeat what i said for akito in a different skin so im gonna stop now) he/they no pref

ena: transfem (see akito) she/her

mizuki: girlflux (her being transfem is literally canon but i like to think she would be gendeflux) she/they flux pref

extra gender related headcanons

everyone is kamiyama is on here if you didnt notice. it just does that to its students

yes miya girls is trans accepting in this universe. i just think its neat

i say its ruis fault nene is trans bcs the more time nene spent around him the more she started to question her gender. something about the freaky little girl who wore the boys uniform and built robots changed her

toya sometimes just. forgets he has a gender. or that he presents masc. he'll hear "hey dude" and take a second to respond until hes like oh wait im dude

tsukasa came out at 4 years old when he straight up told his parents that he was a boy and refused to respond to his deadname. he barely knew what genders were he just knew he had the wrong one

tsukasa is also very very pretty. like the prettiest boy ever. it is an inexplicable fact. no matter what gender you are or arent attracted to you will find tsukasa tenma pretty

also, tsukasa forgot he was afab untill he got his first period and thought he was dying. his dad could not stop laughing and his mom was trying to explain what a period was between tears of laughter (this was probably the most joyful moment he could remember from when saki was sick)

yuuki often makes outfits for rui as well as mizuki. she taught herself to make binders for rui so he could have ones that matched his style

the shinonomes cane out to eachother at the same time. it was very awkward. then they swapped clothes (and by that i mean they used the clothes to go buy their own clothes and threw out the rest bcs they had VERY different styles)

shiho is still used to being the token boy so she totally lags sometimes when people refer to groups shes in as "ladies" or "girls" or whatever

also feel free to add onto these !!! i want to hear your guyses thoughts on these

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

A small introduction of the "Figments"

Figments was/is the fandom name for the TsShorts characters appearing in Thomas's youtube shorts/tiktok's/vines.

Like Sleep aka Remy, The Task Brigade, The Wip force, Missy and Pranks, The Printer, the Microwave, the evil sticker, The Months, Dog and Cat, Sun and Moon and many many more.

I will mainly focus on the figments that "became" the sides, as in The Prince, The Dad, The Teacher and Anxiety, because I was the one who kinda named them XD.

So with that I present, a few Figments:

The Teacher Character.

The Teacher is a character from Thomas's Shorts & Vines. He is a school teacher, often seen being a bit chaotic and just an unhappy about Mondays as the students.

I was the one who coined the name Teal for him (My thought process was easy to remember name makes it easier for it to stick to memory)

Not to be confused with Logan Sanders from Sanders Sides.

They're not the same person, even if Logan evolved out from him after the first couple sanders sides episodes.

Easy ways to tell the difference between them is the tie and the logo on their shirt.

Logan got his emblem on his chest, while Teal got an eagle that's likely the logo for the shirt company. Logan's tie is striped with 4 different colours, purple, blue, black and yellow. Teal's in comparison is just blue.

Next up:

The Prince Character

Prince is a character from Thomas's Shorts & Vines. He is a parody of a Disney Prince, going out on adventures many of Thomas's friends make cameos as either other princes or princesses in most of the shorts, he once "stole" a horse.

I was the one who coined the name Pryce for him (My thought process was easy to remember name makes it easier for it to stick to memory)

Not to be confused with Roman Sanders from Sanders Sides.

They're not the same person, even if Roman evolved out from him after the first couple sanders sides episodes.

Pryce have the lil golden shoulder strap and not the golden extra bedazzle that Roman does. His sash is another type of fabric as well i think... Roman in turn had such a glow up with his new costume. Roman also got his emblems on his upper arms.

Next up:

The Dad Character

Dad is a character from Thomas's Shorts & Vines. He is a father of two young children and two teen age children. He loves puns and "Dad Jokes". He's joyful and goofy, and is extremely afraid of spiders, enough so to dive out of a moving car leaving his youngest children behind. Can not cook food... it will catch fire.

I was the one who coined the name Dayd for him (My thought process was easy to remember name makes it easier for it to stick to memory)

Not to be confused with Patton Sanders from Sanders Sides.

They're not the same person, even if Patton evolved out from him after the first couple sanders sides episodes.

These two are the hardest to tell apart in my opinion. It all comes down to the details, as Janus would say.

Dayd has a grey cardigan and a blue t-shirt with a black i think lion logo. Patton in turn has the grey cat hoodie with paw prints on the sleeves. And his blue t-shirt has his heart emblem on his chest. And to make it harder... we got Janus disguising as Patton... when it was the new shirt but the old cardigan.

And last but not least:

The Anxiety Character

Anxiety is a character from Thomas's Shorts & Vines. He is a personification of Shorts Thomas's anxiety.

Unlike the others, who inspired their Sanders Sides counterparts, Virgil appeared first in the Sanders Sides series before Anxiety, with his paper on his chest, began to appear in the short videos, making cameos with Remy aka Sleep, Pryce and Teal.

I was the one who coined the name Andy for him (My thought process was easy to remember name makes it easier for it to stick to memory)

Not to be confused with Virgil Sanders from Sanders Sides.

They're not the same person, even if Andy showed up in the shorts afterwards.

I would say these two are the EASIEST to tell apart... with Virgil's new hoodie and shirt. Oh and Andy's big boldly written sticky paper with the words "Anxiety" on them.

I had thoughts of mentioning more figments but... then this already long post would get even Longer... so i will keep it to these 4 since i had a part in their naming back in 2019-2020. Back when we were so hungry for characters to use in our fic's we went crazy over ANY semblance of a character. We named EVERYTHING.

[arabianbaby53]

TEAM DELUSIONAL MASTER POST

I've noticed that a lot of information about Bethyl has been lost over time, so I’ve decided to gather everything I could find and compile it into one comprehensive mega dump of content.

We’re diving deep into fan theories, lost footage, rare screenshots, behind-the-scenes interviews the whole nine yards. So grab a seat, because this is gonna be one long-ass post.

MAIN POINTS ================================

was Beth and Daryl’s relationship romantic?

Beth is alive and how we know (cut footage ect.)

17 days theory

How Beth could've survived the gunshot wound

parallels and references.

CREDIT'S ===============================

Note: Some sources I won’t be able to link directly since a lot of this comes from deep dives into the Wayback Machine, but I’ll credit where I can. I’ll also keep updating and editing this as I uncover more info. If you'd prefer your info not be included in this post, just send me a DM—I'm happy to take your part down! Also one more thing a ton of this information has been stored on the youtube channel @TWDMusicBoxMystery so please check out her videos whenever you get the chance

Most of this information was originally gathered by @bethgreeneishopeunseen. Their account is currently locked, and I’m only sharing this to preserve the content in case they don’t return. Once the account is public again, I’ll take this thread down—I just don’t want to risk losing any of this valuable info in the meantime. P.S. @bethgreeneishopeunseen — KWEEN, PLEASE COME BACK!! We miss you and love you <3 You’ve gathered so much more than this thread could ever hope to cover. But if you’re not planning to return… bb please DM me the password so I can help archive everything properly. </3

================ Let’s start simple: was Beth and Daryl’s relationship romantic from the beginning? The short answer is yes. ================

the oringal episode summary for Alone, before it was changed due to backlash

Daryl and Beth's character bio's before they were changed

Norman responding to reddit post's two weeks after Coda aired

Cast and crew

Emily’s thoughts on Beth and Daryl’s changing relationship after Still (March 2014) “I do feel like now, after [Still], that Beth and Daryl know each other on a much deeper level, in an intimate way. I don’t think they feel alone the way they did before.”

Emily agrees with an interviewer at WSC on romantic feelings (March 2014): “So in this last episode, you were asking Daryl ‘how do you know there’s— you still think there’s good people out there? Why?’ And then you had a realization. Was it that he knew because of Beth? Do you know what I’m saying?” Emily Kinney: Yeah, I think she realized how much he cares about her.

“I don’t know, my theory is— I definitely think Beth was having a ro— felt romantically inclined towards Daryl. That’s the way it came across to me, at least.”  Emily Kinney: Yeah, I think there’s realizing that there’s something else there.”

Greg Nicotero’s thoughts on Alone at SDCC 2014: When they pitched Season 4, they were talking about when the prison goes down and having Daryl and Beth be bunkered together. And it’s interesting because I get to see all the cuts and I see all the edits from the director’s cuts onward. And I loved the scene in the kitchen when they’re talking, and I got the sense that Daryl was starting to kind of fall in love with Beth a little.”

Emily’s thoughts on Bethyl for Insider October 2014: “Last year, I definitely felt like there was a really special connection between Daryl and Beth that happened. My take on it was that there was a very deep growing connection that could become something more romantic or could become just … you know that was my personal understanding of it. I do feel like Beth has opened up to Daryl in a way that she hasn’t with other people and I do feel like Beth has never been really in love even though you’ve seen her with the two different boyfriends. I don’t think she’s ever been like, ‘grownup in love’ in the way that you feel like someone actually understands you and in sort of that special intimate way. And I do feel like she’s been closer to that with Daryl then with anyone else.”

Emily wrote a song from Beth’s POV for alone called Last Chance, and it’s a love song with sexual overtones. lyrics

You've got bad dreams from the broken wedding rings That you keep under your pillow while you sleep And there's open spaces, blank faces When you search for answers on the street

[Pre-Chorus] Oh, there's no one left to call Nothin' much to say Pretty sure the world is gonna end today Drink up one last whiskey, head to the dance Baby, this is our last chance Baby, this is our last chance

[Chorus] So gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha got tonight Packin' cigarettes Baby, I'm your light Gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha can I'm the last pretty girl You're the last decent man

[Verse 2] I've got broken heart pieces swimming in my bed Broken conversations floatin' in my head A let down little mermaid trying to find air at the top Pretty sure this spinning world's about to stop So I cover up in glitter, head to the dance Baby, this is our last chance Baby, this is our last chance

[Chorus] So gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha got tonight Packin' cigarettes Baby, I'm your light Gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha can I'm the last pretty girl You're the last decent man

[Verse 3] When the world is on fire But your heart is on ice It's hard to know what's wrong and what's right But if you wanna feel your blood burn, get to the floor Scream to God, "I want it more!" More hurricanes, snow storm, rain in my face More midnights drunk and dizzy dancin' at your place A life of fame and fortune and the star of some show Now it's almost over, almost time to go, oh, go, oh, go oh, go, oh oh, oh…

[Chorus] So gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha got tonight Packin' cigarettes Baby, I'm your light Gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha can Baby, this is our last chance Baby, this is our last chance

[Verse 3] When the world is on fire But your heart is on ice It's hard to know what's wrong and what's right But if you wanna feel your blood burn, get to the floor Scream to God, "I want it more!" More hurricanes, snow storm, rain in my face More midnights drunk and dizzy dancin' at your place A life of fame and fortune and the star of some show Now it's almost over, almost time to go, oh, go, oh, go oh, go, oh oh, oh…

[Chorus] So gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha got tonight Packin' cigarettes Baby, I'm your light Gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha, gimme whatcha can Baby, this is our last chance Baby, this is our last chance

While filming Still, Norman listened to Very Nervous and Love by J. Mascis for Daryl’s character and even pitched for the episode’s closing song.

“Beth realizes Daryl has feelings for her.” - AMC

“Okay, so they’re kind of together.” - Emily Kinney

“I’m enjoying, as an audience member, watching this..happen. - Lauren Cohan “I got the sense that Daryl was starting to fall in love with Beth a little bit.” - Greg N.

“I would say that Daryl has already found familial love. If you’re talking romantic love, I’m going to say, ‘I think so.’” - Scott Gimple

“Daryl implies that he has feelings for her.” - AMC

Media

credit to @emsee22 link to post x

30 Days Without An Accident 4x1, Daryl's "It's a damn romance novel" comment. Sure, can be played off like teasing, a little bit of jealousy. But the point is, he notices Beth's relationship with Zach. And for some reason cares enough to comment on it.

30 Days Without An Accident 4x1, the hug. Not just that there was a hug, but that they didn't end the scene with the hug. They ended the scene with Beth's sleeve falling off her shoulder and show her putting it back on, and end with their eye contact after that. If this was meant to be brother/sister, or platonic, vibes then why emphasize an erogenous zone like that? That would be creepy. The writers intended it to be romantic.

I don't find Still 4x12 to be a romantic episode, necessarily. I think that one is just building on their intimacy as friends. I do appreciate their openness with each other on the porch and there are elements of that conversation that I view as romantic (namely, Daryl's expression and nervous fiddling with the knife). However, I can understand how people view their pairing as platonic if they only base that view on this episode.

Alone 4x13 is where they really start hammering in the romance. For starters, Daryl's reaction to Beth stepping in the bear trap. Yes, of course you can say he just didn't want her to get eaten by the walker, but compare how he gets down to the ground with her, rubs her foot, and gives her his body for support - even giving her a piggyback ride - to Carol's foot cramp in 10x18 Find Me. He first eliminates the threat, then he checks on her and shows genuine concern for her injury, and offers her physical support. Daryl loves Carol, she's his best friend, but in Find Me, he just teases her and tells her that she shouldn't have come along.

Alone 4x13 when Beth stops to look at the "Beloved Father" grave, Daryl compassionately picks some flowers and lays it on top of the grave for her, to commemorate Herschel. That is not inherently romantic. He also compassionately gave Carol a Cherokee Rose when she lost Sophia. I just think it is sweet. In the same scene, Beth and Daryl hold hands (admittedly, a little awkwardly, but that is primarily on Daryl) and Beth puts her head on his shoulder.

Alone 4x13 when they are looking at the bodies that are made to look very human (although they're walkers) and Beth argues back at Daryl's joke about dolls with why it's beautiful. She looks at him and asks "Don't you think that's beautiful" and all he does is pensively stare back at her. It's a romantic cliche and the pause with the intense eye contact seems to imply that his thoughts are that she is beautiful. At the very least, he sees something in the way she thinks about the world that is beautiful.

Alone 4x13 Daryl breaks his silence thinking about telling Beth that she's beautiful with the shiptease after action patch-up tv trope with "C'mon, let's get you patched up." She sits on the table and he wraps her foot up from the bear trap.

Alone 4x13 how he watches her sing in the doorway, and then how he pushes her buttons about the music "Well there ain't no jukebox, so... keep singing"

Alone 4x13 the bridal carry romance trope into the kitchen for the cute little redneck dinner Daryl set up for Beth. Plus his excitement to show it to her, hence the "I'm going as fast as I can" before he picks up her heard outside the doorway.

Alone 4x13 dinner conversation about what changed Daryl's mind about there still being good people. Beth changed his mind. If it wasn't romantic, why couldn't he just say "you're gave me hope / you showed me there are still good people." But the teasing, the repeated asking, the smile and eye contact, the nervousness from Daryl and then the self-realizing "oh" that is more like a romantic confession than anything else. Plus the fact that the confession is interrupted, another TV trope in romance. Plus the fact that in Alone, Daryl & Beth are foils to Sasha & Bob - who we know for a fact were canon. Difference is Sasha & Bob are reunited by the end of Alone, while Beth & Daryl are separated.

Alone 4x13 he chased after her for hours, from night to day.

Alone 4x13 he was ready to kill Len for disrespecting her "Some bitch must have got you all worked up" "You lost yourself a piece of tail" "I bet it was a little one too, they don't last long out here." If Joe didn't stop the knife, I bet Daryl would have ended Len a whole lot sooner.

In 5x8 Coda, when she starts rushing back to Dawn, to say goodbye to Noah, Daryl tries to stop her.

Coda 5x8 he cries over her body

Coda 5x8 he bridal carries her body out of the hospital, sobbing

Them 5x10 he shuts down with the group. Carol knows there is more to his sadness and she is trying to understand it. She assumes Beth saved him (she did, in a way). Rick knows that Daryl lost something deeper than a friend, hence "I know you lost something back there"

================ Beth is alive, cut footage ect. ================

most of this information was posted by a locked account. i've gathered this from the wayback machine and copy and pasted it credit: @bethgreeneishopeunseen

Emily filmed throughout all of season 5, and almost none of that footage was shown onscreen or put on the DVDs as deleted scenes. In season 5, she was in 5x04, 5x07 (barely), 5x08, and 5x09 (minimally). Those episodes were filmed in early June, mid to late July, early August, and late August. She should have been finished with filming on August 29th, as that is when the bedroom scenes with TY were finished. Yet she was confirmed to have been filming from September into October.

And it isn't a few scenes. Depending how much was exactly filmed, that could be at least an episode or two worth of footage. As in bottle episodes that would explain Beth’s backstory. Here is a breakdown of the known missing spoilers:

the Rottweiler and white houses scenes (late May 2014)

included heavy security for “critical scenes”i

Included several actors, the show’s costume designer, and two major producers on the show

There were two white houses used during filming, located side by side. One was smaller, with visible burn marks on the door, while the other was a larger, plantation-style home. Both had “Do Not Mow” signs posted out front—an indicator they were active filming locations. At this point, The Spoiling Dead was highly active and well-informed, often tracking filming schedules and locations in real time. They filmed at the two properties throughout the day and that evening a white van was seen pulling right up to the steps, and Emily dressed as Beth was seen being rushed inside with two security guards. Lennie James dressed as season 5 Morgan was also photographed on set that night.

The van came to the house a second time, and afterwards Emily conveniently tweeted that she was at the movies, even though at least 15 different people saw her on set.

Now, the Rottweiler. The owner tweeted that his dog—a professionally trained acting dog—was scheduled to film soon. A few days later, he confirmed that the dog had filmed two scenes.

This is referring to the filming that took place from May 23rd to May 24th. The Walking Dead Women, a TWD Facebook page, posted a picture on May 14th, and it first surfaced via Spoil the Dead on May 12th. The walking dead rarely features animals, especially dogs the dogs used in the episodes Them, were reportedly pets of the cast, not trained animal actors. So when a Rottweiler was brought in for filming, it signaled a scene that was more intense, complex, and expensive something that required extra time and budget.

It indicates that more was being filmed at the white houses than we saw; Emily could have filmed a few scenes throughout the week. The Rottweiler 100% filmed two scenes, that we haven't seen

“More News… This House been rented again as a filming location... North Hill Street 441, Griffin/Georgia. As rumors have it… Beth was seen around that location… also the house next to it… get used often for inside filming.” In March, Google Maps updated its view of Griffin Street, providing more detail on both properties.

Emily might have spent the first few weeks of filming working at the white houses/in studio of the white houses. That would be at least an episode or two of footage then unaccounted for, and that also does not include the rest of the missing unseen spoilers related to Emily/Beth. No TV show would cut more than a day’s worth of work and not even put it on the DVD. the next instance of cut footage was another filming location not far away where the spoiling dead said they had spotted Beth for a second.

Traffic was blocked off, and security was noted as being heavy. People who came to the site reported that Steven, Lauren, and Alanna were all filming there, and all three actors were photographed at the site. Alanna was even photographed in costume as Tara from 5x01/5x02 and mentioned in a tweet still being covered in dirt and sweat. More than one walker was also seen done up.

Steven, Lauren, and Alanna all came out to take pictures with fans, as well as the producers Denise Huth and Gale Anne Hurd. It takes about eight days to film one episode, so why would the show just scrap an entire day’s worth of work?

Especially since it contained very important scenes that were being filmed out of order, hence the costume designer (for costume continuity) and producers being on set.

Those filming instances are suspect alone. Yet we also have more throughout the whole season, that were consistent. Emily was shuttled in a white van through extreme measures and security was heavy.

Through The Walking Dead Women, I also discovered two more pictures of the Pritchard property tara was spotted at:

The second picture depicts a gate says ‘Beware of the Dog’ sign.

and the weirdness continues

Chase Vasser is a former college football player who became an actor a few years ago. According to his LinkedIn, he is still based in Georgia. In the month leading up to filming at the white houses, he tweeted about being on the show. When word spread, he later recanted and clarified that he was working on another show. Then, on May 17th, a week before filming, Gale Anne Hurd tweeted, “@NeverStop_CV: I will not be on the Walking Dead! #sorryfans" He was never cast on the show.

Beth in the backseat of a Grady car (early July 2014; 5x06 filming)

Beth driving a car out of the Grady hospital/Bethfoot 1 (mid July 2014)

included gunfire and heavy security

Explosions at Grady (late July 2014)

800 walkers for the MSF and the white church (early August 2014) i will go deeper into this when i breakdown the 17 days theory article here x

Don’t f**k with me zombies (August 28th, 2014; tweet implied she would be fighting with zombies. The picture she posted also appeared to have her in make-up with faded scars) Twice Emily referred to her stitches as scars: the Inside 5x04 video and on Slabtown’s TTD. By the time Slabtown’s TTD aired, Emily had known for months about Beth’s “death” as she filmed her death scene early in August and after the filming break, filmed her scenes for 5x09 on August 28th. bethgreenewarriorprincess and I have been discussing the unseen season 5 filming spoilers for a while now. Had she filmed her scenes ahead of time, she would have filmed with scars and not just stitches, which explains why Emily likely referred to them as such instead of cuts. In one of my filming spoilers post, fabledfangirl noticed that Emily appeared to have a faded version of her cheek scar Emily posted this picture on August 28th, 2014 (X) and captioned it, “Don’t f*ck with me today. #diezombies,” and many fans at the time believed it meant she was filming. While she did film the bedroom scenes at the that time, it would not explain the #diezombies because she was not involved with any. It suggests that she filmed more scenes than we saw that day.

if you flip the picture, the mark on her face is a perfect match for Beth’s stitching placement The tilt of the hat would also hide her two forehead scars, as the gash above her eyebrow is bigger and would need more coverage. The presence of scars also help to explain why no almost pictures of Emily surfaced during season 5 filming, especially at the easily-accesible make-up trailer. Faded scars proved scenes were filmed of her surviving.

Bethfoot 1 and 2 (November 17th/18th 2014) picture of Emily in costume taken outside Grady. The picture was taken early in the morning on July 15th, 2014, and it showed Beth in clothes that weren’t her hospital scrubs. (It’s debated whether her shirt is plaid or her season 4 sweater) @sparks-of-greene a long time ago noticed the audio cart that @circled in red, pointing out that such equipment wouldn’t be moved around much, indicating that Emily was outside filming. Now, spoilers prove that Coda was filmed in early August, and that the devastating courtyard scene was filmed on August 6th. That was the only time we saw Emily outside in Beth’s season 4 costume. Whatever this picture is, it’s for something else, as in more filming.

I went back through the comments on the Facebook post with the Bethfoot picture. The woman who took the picture noticed that security was very heavy at the time:

now were at the famous sighting of Beth being spotted in Alexandria or Bethfoot 2 Emily had no reason to be at Alexandria dressed as Beth, WHEN SHE NEVER MADE IT TO THE SAFE ZONE. It was also during filming for the season finale. Emily would have been finished filming for months by that point.

instagram post Emily made and the photo of her on set we had pictures of her in normans trailer, we also had one after she was done filing with a white van outside second picture has been lost. if anyone has it please send it to me

To assume that Emily isn’t filming because she hasn’t been seen on set is a poor assumption to make. The show can hide people if it wants to, such as the actors present in Tyreese’s hallucination never being known, or Lennie James in season 5. Emily could easily have filmed in a studio or remote woodsy location during seasons 5 and 6. Season 7 filming will always be under heavy security until after the premiere, because of the finale death being a secret. There are reports already of people being arrested and filming in the studio. It would not be that difficult to sneak Emily in as well, since she’d be hidden anyway.

================

17 DAYS THEORY

================

credit @dynamicsymmetry link to post x

Here’s what we know: Beth was shot in the head. Daryl carried her outside. The last time we see her (in non-hallucination form) is in that final iconic shot of Coda.

Then in 5x09, it’s a good while later and they’re in Virginia.

The first important thing to note is that we don’t know what happened right after Coda. In 5x10 it’s established that roughly three weeks have passed since the group left Atlanta, and we know almost nothing about what happened during those three weeks. We don’t know what led to them leaving Atlanta.

We also never actually see a funeral for Beth - which is significant, because on this show pretty much everyone who’s at all a major character gets some kind of funeral/farewell. More often than not you see a cross. It’s not something that holds true in every case, there are exceptions, but those exceptions are highly situational (see: Hershel, who still got a memorial when Daryl placed the flowers on the tombstone), and in those cases we still get at least some sense of what happened to their bodies. There is - because of those things - a sense of narrative closure. It’s how this show says goodbye to people who matter. Because this show believes that goodbyes themselves matter.

We never actually saw Beth’s funeral. We have no idea what form it took, where it was, whether or not she got a cross, how people said their farewells - we got none of that. Plenty of people insist that it doesn’t matter, and there’s certainly a possibility that they’re right, just like there’s certainly a possibility that TD is wrong, but I look at the writing on the show as a whole, and what I see is that funerals are a major thematic element and have been from the very beginning, where Glenn insists that they bury their dead instead of burning them.

We saw a huge amount of Tyreese’s funeral. We never saw one second of Beth’s. Not one second. Plus if you look closely there is only one grave so it wasn't a joint funeral like some believe.

This is all to say that the lack of any on-screen funeral, while not conclusive of anything, is very strange. It is not at all in line with how this show handles death, especially not death as narratively important as Beth’s was.

The fact that we saw no funeral at all is enough - in my mind, in conjunction with a number of other things - to cast doubt on whether she had one. Because in writing like this, when something that’s almost always shown is not shown, that often (not always) indicates that it’s being purposefully obscured. Which… Why? Why would they do that?

Okay, so if she never got a funeral, what happened to her body?

This is where we grab a lot of hinty bits from a lot of places and piece them all together into something that’s admittedly messy but to my mind holds up well enough given what we have to work with. I certainly think it’s defensible as a plausibility, though obviously it’s nothing anyone can prove and I don’t think anyone would claim to be able to do so.

Beth was taken from the funeral home (probably) in the trunk of a car. Prior to that - in “Still”, the episode that really kicks off her and Daryl’s relationship (whatever you believe the nature of that relationship to be) - she shelters with Daryl in the trunk of a car in a very tense and meaningful cold open. So we already have something of an established Car Thing with this girl.

In the final shot of Coda, there’s a black car with a white cross on it in the lower left foreground - not the center of the shot, but quite noticeable, the only vehicle nearby aside from the fire engine, and we’ve been told repeatedly that nothing onscreen in this show is wasted (likely hyperbole but I’ll assume that it’s at least mostly true).

In 5x09, we see two strange and potentially very suggestive things. We see multiple shots of a (probably) female walker in a car - a walker whose face is obscured and who appears to possibly have a ponytail or something along those lines. Tyreese sees this and appears moved by it - even disturbed. The fact that we’re shown it more than once tells me that we’re meant to notice it; it’s not there for no reason. Secondly, we’re shown multiple shaky, blurry shots of the group sprinting for the vehicles we see them in later, waving guns around; they’re clearly in a state of distress, running from something. Which indicates that however they left Atlanta, it’s entirely possible that they had to leave very quickly.

Then in 5x10, the group comes upon the cars abandoned in the middle of the road.

Two things happen here that are big for me. First, there’s the (blond, blue-eyed) walker that Maggie finds locked in the trunk of the car. This appears to disturb her deeply - far more than I would expect even for something so awful, because remember that these are hardened people who have been through some real shit, and I think it’s strange that she would have such a strong reaction if there wasn’t something else going on. Plus her discomfort with the car doesn’t begin with her seeing the walker. She doesn’t even want to open the trunk at all. She’s reluctant. Then she sees the walker and she almost falls apart. Glenn has to take care of it for her.

Then there’s Daryl.

Watch Daryl when they first see the cars. There’s a tight close-up of his face, which you don’t have unless a character is feeling something significant. And in his way, Daryl appears to be just as disturbed as Maggie - if not more. He immediately announces that he’ll head off into the woods and circle round, and he doesn’t offer a reason. He just goes. At a point at which there’s every possibility that they might be about to find some life-saving supplies.

No one in the group finds either of these reactions odd. Glenn seems to implicitly understand what’s going on. He never asks Maggie what’s wrong. He just does what he has to do. Carol offers to go with Daryl; earlier in the episode he leaves the group and she says she’s going along, and when he balks she insists on coming with him. This time she offers and he says no, and she backs off immediately and never questions his reasoning. She never asks him for a reason at all.

All of this suggests that between the end of 5x08 and the beginning of 5x09, something upsetting happened that had to do with cars. And whatever it was, it seems to be primarily upsetting to the three people who had the most reason to be upset about Beth’s death: Daryl (obviously), Maggie (obviously), and Tyreese, who was feeling profoundly guilty about his plan working out the way it did when all he ever wanted to do was keep people from getting hurt.

Then we get to the infamous 800 walker extras that both the showrunner and the makeup director talked about for Season 5. That footage? Never saw the light of day. Which is extremely weird. The amount of money, time, and coordination it would’ve taken to pull that off means there’s no way it just got casually scrapped. Especially when you consider they included one- and two-minute throwaway dialogue scenes in Coda on the dvd. If something that massive was filmed, it would’ve absolutely shown up in the deleted scenes or bonus features—unless it was being hidden for a reason.

And that leads us into another case of vanished footage. The Spoiling Dead Fans discovered another filming location—a white church—but they couldn’t get a good look because the entire area was blocked off, with walls put up to hide everything going on inside. That kind of secrecy means whatever they were filming there was important. Even more suspicious? Glenn and Daryl’s actors once posted a photo on Instagram in front of a white church. That post has since disappeared.

And now here’s where things get really strange: in the TAPP trading cards for The Walking Dead, Daryl’s Season 5 card actually mentions Beth getting a proper burial… at a church. I mean—what?! When the hell did that happen? We never saw a burial. We never even got a proper scene acknowledging it. But now we’ve got leaks and official merchandise suggesting they did film it… and then poof gone.

Taken all together, here’s the very rough theory: After the group flees from Grady and Atlanta, they try to find a place to bury Beth. Along the road to Virginia, they come across a small white church and decide it’s the perfect spot for a burial. But something goes wrong A massive herd aka the 800 walker extras we were told were filmed for Season 5—shows up, forcing the group to abandon the church before they can bury her.

In the chaos, they place Beth’s body in a vacant vehicle, using it as a kind of temporary mausoleum with the intent to return and bury her properly. Since she was shot in the head, no one checks for a pulse. They assume she’s dead and has no risk of turning. But when they eventually return… the car is empty.

This would explain the moment where we see Maggie sobbing in front of an open car door, It also gives new weight to the recurring vehicle symbolism around Beth—why cars seem to trigger such intense reactions in certain characters.

We don’t know if Beth turned, or if she was saved. Personally, I like the idea that Morgan found her. There are photos of him and Emily Kinney (Beth) filming together at the two small white houses— that supports this theory.

And if this theory is true, it also explains why Maggie and Daryl didn’t go with Rick, Glenn, Michonne, and Tyreese to Noah’s community. They were out searching for Beth’s body. Offscreen. there's a scene later next season, that supports this when Daryl and Aaron are out scouting for new people. They come across a blonde female walker tied to a tree, and for some reason, Daryl checks her face. Why? Maybe he thought—just maybe—it was Beth. because they never got to actually bury her.

============== how Beth could've survived the gunshot wound ==============

credit: @v0id-bellarke link to post x

 this isn’t a theory really, but this is a post using medical knowledge proving that Beth can survive her head shot. I’m in college at the moment to get my pre recs done for EMT/Paramedic. And I’m in a program where we have free Paramedic training that the Paramedic company offers, and I’ve been with the program going on a year this coming summer. So I’ve retained a lot of knowledge the past year.

Remember when Dr.Edwards told Beth when she woke up from her coma ” You fractured your wrist, and sustained a superficial head wound" 

For those who don’t know what a superficial head wound is, its a survivable injury located in your skull  or the brain. And it can vary in any kind of injury. I think that was the biggest foreshadowing that Beth survives her head shot. I’ve seen other amazing theories getting into awesome detail, but we just gotta look at the obvious sometimes to see what’s going on. I analyzed her head shot, and it is survivable. 

^^^First lets look at her entry and exit wound. By the looks of it she was shot by a 9mm pistol. Her entry wound in located off center to left and is probably the size of a nickle. And then her exit wound is probably the width of two quarters. That’s not big at. It does look bigger than it actually is because the blood around wound in her hair. And there is barely any brain matter coming out. Mostly blood.

Ok, so I had a use a different picture of her getting shot so I could get a better view of it. Her entry wound starts in the frontal lobe, and follows through in the parietal lobe and exits there. Yes, this is survivable. The thing that kill us if we get shot is if the bullet penetrates the brain stem. Which controls all your vitals, swallowing, sleep, nervous system, temperature, sense of balance. Many people who attempted suicide and shot themselves in the head have survived, because the bullet did not penetrate their brain stem. I will get into how her head wound will effect her in a minute.

I drew you guys a chart to show you the general idea where her brain parts are located. Sorry for the crappy drawing, and its more than likely a little off. But this is just for you get an understanding I want you to feel the back of your head. Do you feel that little dip on the nape of your head? That’s the area where your brain stem is. Now look at the picture of Beth. There is no way that it is possible that the bullet penetrated her brain stem, it is physically impossible by the looks of it. The bullet exit wound is even right above where her pony tail hair tie is. Your brain stem in not located that high up.

So you see where she was shot was in the Frontal Lobe and Parietal Lobe. Based on where she was shot, is survivable but she will have some brain damage. Usually after getting shot in this area you will be a temporary coma, how long it is depends on how bad the shot was, the person, etc. But if she wakes up, it looks like she’s going to have speech problems, lacking sensation in touch so she will have trouble identifying different textures, minor blindness ( won’t be able to see long distances ), emotional issues, and academic problems. So she’ll probably have problems reading, speaking articulately, basic math skills. 

Side Note: This would make sense with Beth’s possible speech impairment, on Morgan’s wall No Killed.In.Action on BEF. Beth and BEF do sound similar. So this may be the way she pronounces her name and makes sense of it.  

My mother is also a Nurse and she has said based on where she was shot, it is survivable. And I hate how I couldn’t find a picture of gif of Beth’s arm shot when she dies and she has a pool of blood around her arm. Ya’ll know what I’m talking about. But anyways, based on memory, her bleeding was very slow, trickling and dark. If her wound was fatal is would be an artery bleed. Which is large amounts of bright red blood bleeding out of you so fast it looks like a sprinkler. Also, I noticed when Daryl was carrying her outside to Maggie, he blood stopped. This is a good sign. Because that means her body functions are still working and her blood clotted to stop the bleeding. If she was really dead, the blood would still be pouring out, drenching her hair, getting all over Daryl’s arms.

So a medical perspective her head shot is survivable. Unfortunately we don’t know how long she’ll be unconscious, and she’ll have brain damage.

credit @twdmusicboxmystery link to post x

gunshot wounds: ear to ear - FATAL. Upwards through chin - 95% FATAL.  Directly between eyes: FATAL. 

He also said the most survivable gunshot wounds were those high up on the forehead, because often they did not even enter the brain at all. 

Also, I am a resident of Tucson, AZ, where Congress woman Gabrielle Giffords was shot on January 8, 2011 while speaking to a group of her constituents in a grocery store parking lot - this happened about 2 miles from my home. “Gabby” Giffords was shot from approx 3 ft away in the back of the head and the bullet exited out the front of her forehead, the opposite of Beth’s gunshot wound.  Gabby Giffords is still very much alive today and still an active political lobbyist. I will include two links - the first is to a YouTube interview from about 3 years after the accident. At about 3:50, her husband, astronaut  Mark Kelly, explains that Gabby has aphasia, which is a difficulty at times processing language and thoughts into words and is very common in brain injuries to the upper left side. another really good post by @apocalypse-married link x

parallels and references I cannot add anymore images to this thread, so i will be making a second post here in a few days and ill add the link here so its easy to find :) credit's

@twdmusicboxmystery link to post x link to youtube x

@v0id-bellarke link to post x

credit @dynamicsymmetry link to post x

wayback machine copy and pasted credit: @bethgreeneishopeunseen

@emsee22 link to post x

@apocalypse-married link x

If anyone would like their content or information removed, please don’t hesitate to let me know. My goal with this compilation is simply to archive everything in one place so it can be easily accessed by fellow Bethyl shippers—and maybe even help others understand where Team Delusional was really coming from.

That said, the last thing I want to do is upset or take away from any of the original creators. PLEASE go like and support the original posts—everyone involved is incredibly talented and deserves full credit for their work.

If you have anything you'd like added to the archive, feel free to message me! I'd love to include it.

[itsallhoney]

here are the highlights from the samia q&a sessions in chicago.

this is stuff from both nights all mixed together. i jotted down few notes after but this is mostly from memory.

starting with more casual/general questions:

what's your favorite color? "red. what's yours?" pink. "that's beautiful." she took the opportunity to ask a question back whenever she could. it was actually very sweet.

what's your letterboxd top 4? [i'm sorry to my followers but i forgot two of them] heavenly creatures (dir. peter jackson) and princess mononoke (dir. hayao miyazaki)

what's your big three? sagittarius sun / capricorn moon / leo rising she did ask for clarification about which placements were the big three before answering

favorite sad song, chill song, happy song, and dance song? she gave two answers combining sad/chill and happy/dance-y. sad/chill: gotta have you by the weepies happy/dance-y: houseplants by squid

what was the last song you liked [on streaming]? heartbreak to hate by angelfish. she said she heard it in a thrift store and at first the phrase 'heartbreak to hate' jumped out to her and reminded her of sacred ('ou you never loved me like you hate me now') and then the song started repeating 'how long? how long? how long' and "it felt like kismet"

have you seen the new season of yellowjackets? "yes" if you were to assign a bloodless song to any character what would it be? "all of them shauna." then after some prodding "ok maybe spine oil is natalie." north poles reminds me of shauna/lottie 'when you see yourself in someone how can you look at them?' "we'll talk later." (and i hope they did)

if bloodless were a movie what would it be? the blair witch project

also someone said they took in a stray cat and named it after her. samia asked, "is she a good girl?" mostly but she has her moments. "well, i mean —"

questions about writing, inspiration, and being on tour:

what helps you feel at home while on tour? the people she's with and constantly drinking tea

what gives you confidence when performing? "i started wearing swim suit bottoms as underwear an for some reasons that makes me feel like i can do it" (i couldn't make that one up if i tried)

someone brought up the wolves — which is a play that she originated a role in off-broadway (#14) — and asked, does your theater background influence the way you perform on stage? "isn't it obvious?" she said something about how you can't hide being a theater kid

this one came with some context but basically the question was, what were the artists you discovered around age 18 that changed the way you thought about music/songwriting? her list was longer than this but, father john misty, fiona apple, mitski, the national

what writers inspire you? father john misty, a few other musicians, then she said she "grew up on maya angelou and anne sexton"

who is someone in your life that inspires you? raffaella

how do you get over writer's block? "there's this joni mitchell quote 'you don't have writer's block, you're just afraid to tell the truth' so i try to lean into that, but sometimes i think that only works if you're joni mitchell" then she said she keeps a long list of thing that interest her and when she's feeling blocked she refers back to that note and tries to find inspiration there.

someone referenced the interview at the current where she says synonyms don't exist and that she thinks there's a perfect word for every sentiment and asked, do you feel that way because you used to have trouble articulating your thoughts? "yes." and then she added onto that and she said almost the exact same thing she had said the night before to a different question about writing. i can't quite recall the question, it might have been about inspiration or it might have been about writing advice. she said, "i'm really interested in streams of consciousness because we all think differently and view the world differently so i think it's more about finding a way to phrase things in a way that's completely unique to you"

questions that are specific to her work:

night one, someone asked about before the baby. i can't remember the exact question but it was something along the lines of which before the baby song would you add to the setlist if you were to perform any? "i still really like 21." that's the only one you like? she hid her face for a moment while everyone laughed. i think the asker brought up welcome to eden and samia said she still really liked welcome to eden as well.

night two, someone asked about before the baby. i think a more general would you perform anything from before the baby? she said people have expressed a lot of interest in her before the baby singles and she's considering doing a tour in between albums where she plays some of her older stuff. she asked if we'd be interested in that. everyone cheered. "alright i'll do it!"

someone asked about playing some of her heavier songs live, what that experience was like, and how she dealt with that emotionally as a performer. she said she just stopped playing them at a certain point. she also said she would consider touring them again but with more mental preparation.

what album was the most fun to record? "honey." she said with honey there was a looser approach to the songwriting and she was more willing to let things be while with the baby and bloodless she was pulling her hair out trying to make sure everything was perfect.

if you had to unrelease one song what would it be? "oh no, people are gonna get mad at me... someone tell the boys." she held out her hands "i'm not going to do it! i haven't unreleased it, but if i had to that would be the one"

what artists would you want on bloodless reimagined? she confirmed that bloodless reimagined is happening but wasn't sure if she could or should share any of the artists. she said there was a big name she can't share but blondshell, carter faith, and dora jar are confirmed.

i love spine oil but i have no idea what it's about. "understandable." she said it's largely inspired by into the wild but it's also about some christian guys she knew in nashville that were very judgy and basically she was tired of their comments.

what is dare about — without getting too specific? she said it's based on the painting the hands resist him by bill stoneham which is supposedly haunted. she described the hands pressed against the glass in the background and said that they represent fate. she said dare was an attempt to write about a situation in her life from the perspective of fate.

[taffy-glitch]

Ok I finished chapter 4 last night and I had some thoughts about the Aesthetic Catholicism of it all (under the cut if you don't want to read All That)

So, from a Doylist perspective, giving the Delta Rune religion a lot of Catholic imagery makes sense- it gives the viewer/the player something familiar to relate it to, which gives an idea of what the cultural place of this religion is in the world (or at least in the town). It also grounds the setting in an interesting way- another writer might use the surface aesthetics of stained glass and Gothic architecture and leave the rest up to vibes, but Toby is very specific about it- the prayer candles, the little wells of holy water, the way that one of the dark world enemies is a freaking censer named for Balthazar- it points to a lot of thought put into this choice (and, for me, who was raised catholic, it made it all feel almost. uncomfortably familiar...)

I have no doubt Toby could have created a whole unique set of religious traditions for this fictional world, but the fact that so much of it *is* familiar allows the viewer/player to focus on what *is* unique about the religion, the really important parts- the prophecy, the knight, the angel... the lack of a concept of sin.

This is a bit less solid, but I also think it's interesting to think of the Watsonian implications as well. Alvin mentions that Asriel tried to confess to him to absolve himself (and Kris) of their sins as a child, despite there being no sin in their religion, which implies that there *does* exist a concept of sin in the wider world, which Asriel would know about from outside his immediate community.

I'd also like to point out that the Delta Rune and the prophecy existed in Undertale as well (albeit with a different prophecy), which characters clearly held some reverence to but without the churchy vibe

Considering humans and monsters have, presumably, had at least *some* more cultural exchange in this universe as opposed to the Undertale universe, could it be that they absorbed some Catholic aesthetics that way?

Anyway. I doubt this'll really be important to the narrative but it IS interesting to think about

[acesw]

Reverse: 1999's Story Themes in the Form of Arcs

As we know now there are 3 story arcs in Reverse: 1999: The Timekeeper Tetralogy (Chapters 1-4), the Equilibrium Trilogy (Chapters 5-7), and now the Homecoming Series (2.0 Series, Chapters 8-10).

All 3 of these arcs are very integral to the main story and I found them quite interesting to think about how there are particular themes that stand out among them.

Disclaimer: These are very incoherent ramblings of someone who has had little sleep. Don't take all of what I said here to heart, nor limit down the overall themes into categories as narrow/overgeneralised as what I go over here.

I want to just rant talk about this here since it's early in the morning and I talked about it in a call. As much as this will sound incredibly incoherent, let's get started.

The Timekeeper Tetralogy — "Pillars"

The term "pillar" can be described as a metaphor for resilience, crisis, saviors, any of the sort. Chapters 1-4 primarily centers around this theme as we dive into the world of Reverse: 1999 for the first time. We're introduced to a world that is in chaos due to the "Storm" and the harsh changes that come with having to live through constant tragedy. From these calamities, people need something or someone to turn to for hope, or for them to be saved from this rubble, no?

It's in this series that it establishes the substantial roles hold by our main characters and factions; most importantly, Vertin's role as the Timekeeper. It becomes clear that she is highly sought out by many because her profound altruism shines through as a person who sought freedom more than anything. She showcases the impact and change she brings to be able to progress forward to making that change.

Of course, it's not just herself, we also have characters such as Madam Z, Druvis III, and Sonetto, whose actions become highly influential to the changes that needed to be pushed through to allow the Foundation to progress. There are also characters like Schneider, who plays a role in saving the lives of those they consider their own (e.g. Schneider trying to save her own family) in spite of the world that functions against them.

I think of "pillars" as a way that the first four chapters of this game brings the words "leadership" and "saviour" to light. The highlighted characters are very central to how they lead others out of conflict, whether temporarily or permanently.

Equilibrium Trilogy — "Belief"

Belief describes in the faith and trust held towards something or someone. How is this different from the first part and how does it connect? In Chapters 5-7, this word becomes very central to how many characters think. Many of the characters in this arc tend to have something or nothing to believe in.

All of them: 37, 6, 210, Sophia, Isolde, Marcus, Hofmann, Kakania, Lucy, Enigma, Ulrich, Semmelweis, Lorelei—Even someone like Heinrich—They all held beliefs that particularly influenced not just their personal stories but the overall narrative. Their communities held beliefs that had become their downfall later once it is shaken.

For example: Greta Hofmann is a mixed human that has lived through repeated tragedy. She has lived to see her brother nearly commit suicide, her colleagues be reversed, even the people she meets disappear right beneath her feet. Yet from all these years, it has drastically changed her perspective on arcanum and arcanists. She had accepted that there was no way to go back from where it all started in time; it becomes important to how she sees how the tides must be shifted through how the arcanists are able to see fit. It does not mean that she believes in arcanist supremacy, rather, it highlights the importance of the role that arcanists play into the world they are all in now.

When thinking of the word "belief" here, I really mean that each and every event, each circumstance, is particularly influenced by what the characters believe in. And what comes out of it strikes back at those beliefs, severely impacting how these characters view the world after they are faced with the effects.

The Homecoming Series — "Home"

It's quite in the name, isn't it? The 2.0 series is unique in that their event stories particularly tie back to the main story in some way. While that is in itself a major writing flaw, the theme particularly sticks out in all of the stories.

This series emphasizes on the theme of "Home" and how many yearn to return to it. Even if it were destroyed or taken from them, they still yearn to go back to where they found comfort and where they feel most safe. It becomes central to many conflicts in the story, and every character involved in this series so far has been affected by it in a way.

"Home" does not have to mean a physical building either, it can mean family, close friends, and kindred spirits as well.

There are characters like Joe, Anjo Nala, and Fatutu who are all facing conflicts from being essentially removed from their homes, or fighting their way through to return back to that home in such a way that it affects not only them, but their communities and families as well. Then there are those like Lopera, Barcarola, and Recoleta, who all have left their homes, but still feel this sense of longing to return in a way that they seek the comfort those homes once gave them.

It doesn't always prompt them to go back, but they always miss and yearn for what they had left behind or what they had lost. They yearn to return to a place they considered a place of safety and comfort, only to be met with conflict and a place now unfamiliar.

Afterthoughts

While having pulled an all-nighter and gaining a headache from staying up, I genuinely enjoyed getting this out of my system and it helped with organizing my thoughts about this game's story. While it has it's ups and downs, there's no doubt that I genuinely do appreciate the story as it is. These themes have been really fun to identify and explore, and it impacts how I see the story itself.

Thanks for reading my tangent here. As always, feel free to leave your own thoughts as you see fit.

[jorvikzelda]

thinking about how in chapter four we really truly have a close trusted ally for, like… the first time.

like

in chapter one we have lancer, sure, but he’s understandably conflicted between us and the King. we have fun with him and he has fun with us, but when it boils down to it he’s just a kid who doesn’t want us to hurt his father and who possesses no real power to help us. in chapter two there’s noelle and berdly, but even if especially noelle wants to be on our side, there’s always the overhanging threat of Queen that makes it a rather… uneasy? allyship. it’s shaky, you don’t know how long it’ll last; it’s more like occasional solace. (speaking for the normal route here, obviously. snowgrave is Different ! ) in chapter three there’s not really much of anyone at all? most background characters support us over tenna, we make friends with side characters, ramb’s letting kris into the backrooms to do weird shit, but there’s no one really at our side.

and then in chapter 4, we have someone not only on our side, but someone actively supporting us—holding us up, being there for us when we need it most, mentoring us even. in the without question darkest chapter to date, we also have our strongest ally yet, and our in my eyes safest-feeling safe zone in the study (the green room and the areas near stores in ch 1&2 just… don’t compare).

i’m with you in the dark.

[shesprettymeh]

The Prophecy's End

**Spoilers for Chapters 3 and 4 of Deltarune**

In the end of chapter 4 after establishing the prophecy as both highly specific and all but guaranteed, Susie learns how the prophecy ends and responds by breaking the glass it was on. Ralsei then has a breakdown, apologizing to her to which she responds by telling him that they are not going to let it happen.

So what is it?

My first immediate thought while playing the game was that they all died. The final tragedy is the heroes all sacrifice themselves for the greater good or something like that. However, after further reflection, I doubt that to be the case. Ralsei, especially in the first chapter, would have been more then willing to throw himself into a pit for the prophecy. Susie's reaction does not seem to line up with that idea either, with lines like "Like something like that would happen" implying that if this prophecy should come to pass they would not get much choice in the matter.

After thinking about it for a bit, I'm almost positive it is about Noelle. First, the prophecy goes at great lengths to mention that Susie falls in love of some form and we can safely assume this is about Noelle. Now this is Susie's darkworld so it's possible that the reason that image is shown a lot is because Susie is thinking about it. It is also possible that the reference to Susie's love is as important as the reference to Lancer calling Ralsei "Toothpaste Boy". That is to say, not at all. However, that being said, Noelle has importance beyond being Susie's love interest in the form of the weird route. With Chapter 4 it is clear that the weird route is not about corrupting and manipulating various characters but rather Noelle specifically. If the weird route is a way to escape the prophecy and get a different ending, the fact that it focuses on Noelle is notable. Especially since the idea is her getting stronger, perhaps strong enough to circumvent her own death.

Beyond this, if the Knight is Dess or Carol, as many have theorized, the idea that it would take Noelle's death to stop them is not far fetched. It would also bring a certain layer of irony if you believe the theory that Carol is doing this in an attempt to bring Dess back, she would lose one daughter in return for the other.

There is one part where Susie asks Ralsei what he knows about Noelle and he only mentions what armors she can equip. His portrait does not indicate any worry or concern surrounding the topic, so maybe it's not about her. Of course, maybe that's why he is apologizing so much after Susie finds out, because he knows he lied.

Granted, we will not know for 100% until we hear it from the game itself. I just thought it was some fun food for thought.

[weareallgayjesters]

Art Dump pt 2

hey, welcome to another art dump. i had a surplus of drawings done recently, and i just wanted to show them on here so yeah

(oh, and i drew that scene)

yep. anyway, here's drawing #1:

and yes, there are two versions of this, same as the other post of aegis hollyberry cookie >:D

i enjoyed drawing this, but dear god, it took long >:( (like nearly 4 hours excluding breaks)

and you can tell, i enjoy episode 10, AND i like recreating scenes from different episodes in crk as it gives me a better perspective on the characters and environment.

drawing #2: yes, THAT lady in azure.

the second one is the reference photo. this was by far the shortest time to ever finish a digital drawing of crk fanart as it usually will take me about two to three hours, depending on the amount of time that i spend. it looked realistic as shit, took some time to do a second shade, and done! (smc ik you're in there 💀)

drawing #3: doodles heheh

here's the full one.

and here's separate pictures:

first: pavlova cookie and second: sugarfly cookie after her wings broke free.

thank you for reading this, and yes, continue to say free palestine. ik that this is a crk tumblr and all, but i still have a human side and know about the atrocities that are going on in palestine, sudan, and congo. do not stop talking about them.

thank you for your continued support and free palestine! 🍉

- tai (he/him)

[enlightenedfeline]

Tips for creating romantic tension:

Whether your couple starts off as enemies or friends, you need to know how to write romantic tension.

1- Build up

The most rewarding part of seeing two characters end up together, is knowing that their love and attraction for each other happened gradually instead of suddenly. The best connections are always naturally gradual, neither side is pushing too hard or too desperate to get close, and this especially applies to romantic relationships.

Let your character think of what they really want to say, then let them decide it's too much now, and settle for something smaller. So that when they really say what they want to, it can feel less rushed and manufactured, more natural and relatable.

2- Stolen glances

As someone who has had a crush before I can tell you I couldn't keep my eyes off him most times.

Make your characters look at each other, make them laugh and smile together even from across a room, even worlds apart. Make them worry and overthink, are they looking at me too or do I like them more than they like me?

3- Anxiety

No not the Doechii song.

Anxiety is often a sign of liking, or even love, butterflies in your stomach literally means you're extra nervous around this person because you want to behave a certain way that makes them accept you.

Allow both your characters to be visibly anxious around one another but never confront it, their smiles can sometimes be awkward, they'll constantly overthink every word.

This extra thought they put into their words and actions lets your reader know that they like each other, without ever explicitly stating it.

4- Touch

One of my fondest memories is when I was walking with my crush and she held my hand. She was probably straight, probably meant nothing to her, but I couldn't stop smiling when I got back home.

Let your characters feel each other and analyze the feel of the others body against theirs, not in a sexual way.

What does this person's hand feel like in yours? What does it feel like when they brush against you?

Let them overthink touch as well, maybe one character is a hugger, the other is not. The not hugger thinks the hug is a big deal, and the hugger makes it a big deal by making it last a little longer, or standing just a little closer.

5- Details

The best way to show and not tell your reader about a romantic relationship between two characters is to show you, through the minds of the characters, what details they're noticing about each other.

I don't mean just a haircut, I mean let them notice different perfumes, different food/drink orders, clothes they've never seen before.

More importantly, let them remember details, recall details that your reader wouldn't, so that your reader can really see how deep in liking - or loving - these two characters are. Let them see, don't tell them, how much attention your characters pay to each other.

6- Gifts.

Your characters will try to court each other with gifts of sorts, whether it be quality time or literal material gifts, your characters will try to advertise themselves to each other.

If one character can cook well, they'll probably cook for the other.

If one character has money, they'll probably buy the other a gift.

If one character is really good at making Spotify playlists, that's probably what they'll do.

As you can see, so much of romantic tension is just in the details, which is why I'll be ending this tip post here.

Because there's not more advice I can give you other than just showing details, that's all romantic tension is, that they notice when their hands are touching, they know each other's perfumes, they know each other's quirks.

Let it be gradual, let it be natural, let it be unique.

I literally cannot dive deeper into this topic if I tried, because there are too many options, everything after these basic tips is determined by your character's personality.

I'll dedicate this post to possibly the only two people I've had crushes on, Cassandra and Leopold.

Cassandra, you were probably straight, but I really liked you, I just didn't quite fit into your life, but I'll always cherish our little date and how you held my hand, I spent my whole allowance on that frog plush you really liked, I hope you're still drawing.

Leopold, you were sweet, it was nice running into you again years later, and that time you gave me your hoodie almost made my fourteen year old mind explode, and yes I did let you win, I hope you're enjoying acting.

Maybe some of this advice will help, maybe it won't, either way, I hope this feline has enlightened you!