#this post doesn't even contain what I was actually trying to say

[mothric]

yeah, as nice as it is to imagine this type of worldwide solidarity, it does seem a bit contrived. the world doesn't revolve around us, like the above said. I have certainly seen a few headlines about anti-Trump protests, including in Germany as they are also protesting the rise of the far-right in their own country. but it seems like a stretch to say they're protesting FOR America; it makes much more sense that they'd be protesting AGAINST the presidency of a guy who may make dangerous movements in their own countries feel more emboldened.

also (a bit of a tangent ahead) I am still not an expert at fact checking, but in times like these it is extremely important to ask questions about the things we see. this video, for example, contains no sources and no real context. where are the clips taken from? in what countries are they happening? *when* are they from? when I tried looking this up, one of the first results I got was a fact checker confirming that one popular video going around (not this one) was from a protest that happened in 2018. (I tried to link it here, but tumblr isn't allowing the hyperlink for some reason, so i encourage you to do some searching yourself.) I also found an article that made the same claim as this video and the source it linked was... a tweet claiming the same thing.

this tiktok is also not coming from any kind of reporter, news source, or a firsthand eyewitness account. it's just someone who stitched videos together without saying where they're from and put text over them. lots of people can do that.

I really, really hate to be a bummer on a post that's trying to be encouraging. there is plenty to be anxious about, I get it. but misinformation is still misinformation, even if it supports your side or makes you feel better. with the rise of censorship concerns we need to start getting a LOT more comfortable with asking questions about what we see, even if it looks like something easy to believe. Especially if it looks like that, actually.

all that said, if anyone has more concrete information, articles, or knows where those video clips are from, please add on to this post!

[robonoba-zorbo]

First impression Law vs. actual Law is so crazy cause when we first meet him, he's this asshole(affectionate) who makes whimsical little torso tornados and travels with a bunch of dudes in jumpsuits, and then you meet him for real and he's some... edgy twink with a friend group that consists of a furry and bunch of dorks, and an inability to play nice with people who're at the same skill level as him.

I love both versions so dearly tho-

[weaselle]

it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

[orcboxer]

Okay let me try this one again. The Trolley Problem sets up a scenario that sucks to be in. You either kill one guy, or you kill five guys. Nobody likes these options. We all don't want this be happening. That's kind of the point. It's a moral quandary. It's supposed to feel bad.

Now, according to a recent post floating around on tumblr, choosing either of the two options demonstrates "learned helplessness" and makes you a neolib sheep. The only correct answer, the post states, is to reject the question altogether. (Or to change the parameters of the question to include an option that saves everyone, thus eliminating the moral quandary.)

It sounds nice, doesn't it? Fuck this bad situation, we control our imaginations, so let's imagine a situation that doesn't suck. Hah! Bet you didn't think of that!

Here's the problem. Even though I think most situations generally have at least one solution that is both Feasible and Not Terrible, I have to admit that there are some situations (as in, not zero of them) where all the feasible options are unpleasant. This is a natural consequence of living in a world where A Lot Of Things Suck.

But if shitty situations do exist, even if it's super super rare, then it's not unreasonable to ask, "How should we make decisions when we find ourselves in a shitty situation?"

This is the beginning premise of the Trolley Problem. It says, "Hey what if you were in an unambiguously shitty situation? There are many shitty situations, so let's imagine one that is contrived enough to get everyone on the same page regardless of political affiliation, AND really emphasizes the key parts that I want to discuss."

Tumblr says "let me stop you right there. What if instead...we imagined a different scenario that wasn't as shitty?"

Well, okay, but then we're not talking about the same thing anymore. That doesn't actually count as an answer to the problem, you're just changing the subject to a completely different thing.

Tumblr goes on to say, "Exactly. That's the only thing you should ever do when confronted with an ethical quandary. Frankly the fact that you are willing to even consider a scenario that sucks suggests that you are fundamentally incapable of considering less shitty scenarios."

I just want to say I think that's bullshit. I don't think every problem is a trolley problem, but I do think that some problems are a trolley problem. And I think that those problems are worth discussing, even though they don't feel good. The trolley problem exists as a framework to discuss those problems.

Maybe our aversion to difficult decisions has an impact on our ethical reasoning, and maybe we should actually question how our ethical standards hold up under the weight of that aversion. So maybe moral quandaries like the trolley problem are worth discussing. And if you don't want to engage with the quandary, then don't - you don't have to concoct a whole essay about how the quandary is inherently morally bad.

It's possible that what you really want to say is that it sucks when people treat certain situations as trolley problems, when those specific situations actually do contain unambiguously feasible and unambiguously perfect solutions. I would agree with that.

But like. Let's not pretend that you can reduce all of ethics down to unchallenging black and white moralism.

[flcwermimi]

❛ THE ICEBERG EFFECT IN THE VOID STATE ❜

Even after doing right things / following the right method / being persistant towards our desires sometimes we don't get the fruitful outcome and we all have asked ourselves WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?

According to the research our conscious mind which is aware of our feelings, thoughts and behaviour is like a tip of an ICEBERG visible above the water & on the other hand majority of the iceberg, representing the unconscious mind, lies hidden beneath the surface.The unconscious mind is thought to contain instincts, repressed memories, and other mental processes that we are not directly aware of, but which still influence our behavior and decision-making.

Hand to Hand same happens on our Void/Manifestation journey. The ICEBERG in the void state are :

— SUPPRESSED EMOTIONS - Not being able to confess what u actually feel & often ignoring the emotions overcome this by doing some action regarding when u actually feel happy or angry CONFESS IT ' I am happy/ angry '

— UNRESOLVED PAST TRAUMA/ ISSUE - Even u feel it doesn't effect at all but it does unconsciously the burden of UNRESOLVED THINGS or UNADRESSES ISSUE can lead to several mental issue and to overcome it once must overlook yourself, apologize if u are wrong,get help, share their feelings with someone

— SCARED OF THEIR DESIRE - Often someone DM 's me saying that they're scared of having their desire which is completely normal and I feel to restrict this feeling from their self once should just appreciate their self , hangout with good energy people and decrease their screen time

— SOMETHING HOLDING BACK : From my recent post I got many DM regarding how they feel what is holding them back and it's important to have knowledge on the rights things misinformation sometimes stick to ourselves very deeply

— SELF DOUBT : Many people doubts them regarding the how powerful they're, they often find validation to have their desire so it's very important to work on self-concepts and stop questioning " is it possible" or " can I have this or that?"

— NOT STICKING TO ONE THING : One individual when they're trying to enter void often keeps changing methods or finding something which can magically help them and it often leads them finding hard to believe in any methods. Even if u fail at one method at 3 - 4 times doesn't mean it's not effective it's all about mindsets u must stick to one thing and stop looking sources like ' enter the void instantly/ do this method to happen in second ' because u are not realising how powerful u are actually u don't need those things everything is on your command

— COMPLICATING THINGS : As I seen so many of people making a bunch of routine it irritates me cause They are listening subliminals also and on the side they are even doing robotic affirmation and also five minutes they are doing PSYCH -K and next they are also doing mediation and on the night they will put long bunch hypnosis and in the same night they are doing WBTB method trust me you don't need so much things u doing these all things result that u are putting the void on the pedestal Just question yourself this all is needed?doing so much u are exhausting yourself physically and mentally

— TIME : For those who really starts to panic when they don't enter void on the specific time it's ok time hasn't been wasted nothing is wrong when u didn't enter the void on your specific time the only thing u will be doing wrong in that time is making diffrent theories, underestimating yourself, finding different methods, saying yourself a failure

So these we're some things I wanted to list from the very starting I hope u all read it all through find what is actually stopping you and there is no guarantee this thing happens to each and everyone I have listed it down by over analysing the success stories, my experience

Further what u can do is listen to self concept subliminals, building confidence, don't overwork on your selves, stop finding validation and logic in everything , surrounding yourself with postive beliefs , patience is virtue so keep persisting , do something new daily as if meditate or write a journal or share your thoughts with others learn new skills

That's it all no iceberg effect is bigger than you so stop doubting yourself you can do this it's all easy peasy 🤍🫶

[hyperions-light]

That'll Get You Killed: Harding and Neve in the Ossuary

Second post in a series about the Ossuary. Read this one first.

Harding's Room

Rook enters the second occupied room, which has Harding. You can see her plants overflowing into the prison, as well as her books, chair and sleeping bag. Harding's notes are:

Which all center around the fear that he will be unable to contain Spite, and that his friends will be hurt as a result. Interestingly, the third one also indicates that he doesn't want Spite to be hurt, either. When you speak to Harding, she has some very fascinating dialogue:

Don't worry Rook. I've got my eye on the prisoner.

and then

Rook, are you sure Spite isn't tricking you? What if there's no Lucanis- just the demon?

Lucanis is afraid that his friends still see him as his captors did; a dangerous thing to be contained-- and, moreover, he's afraid they're right. That maybe there is none of him left, after the Ossuary; that all there is is Spite.

Rook refutes this idea directly, saying Lucanis is not a demon. Harding then says:

Look around. This isn't the mind of a human being, let alone an Antivan Crow.

Lucanis is afraid that he is too broken by his experience to be useful, or even to be human anymore (this fucks me up guys... brb crying). Rook can refute this by affirming that Lucanis is still himself, even after what happened; that everyone has mental scars, and that it is Lucanis' choices which define him; or that the state of Lucanis' mind is irrelevant, and that Rook is trusting him to save the world. For the first two Harding will warn Rook that their attitude could get them killed. For all of them, she warns them to be careful and disappears.

Neve's Room

Neve's room is based on the one where you fought Calivan originally, signalling her place as one of the two biggest obstacles to Lucanis leaving the Ossuary. Her notes are on her desk (behind Rook when you enter), on the clue board behind her, and near the exit in a pile of books. They say:

All of this text surrounds Lucanis' fear that he's out of control, that he's become a monster that can't help anyone; that he's completely lost himself (this fr almost made me cry ;-; the fear and pain and helplessness here is staggering ;;;;-;;;;). When you talk to Neve, she asks if Rook should be there, since it's dangerous. The following description of Neve by Spite is the only difference I can find between the romanced/non-romanced versions of this quest (besides flirt dialogue); he'll say something different if the Nevecanis romance is active, but essentially he identifies Neve as someone strange/new but intriguing. Neve then says:

You know how he is, Rook. Even if you open the door, Lucanis won't walk through it. This is where he wants to be.

Reflecting his fear that even if people try to help him, he won't be able to accept it; that in some way he is doing this to himself, and that he'll choose it over something better. Rook and the others HAVE reached out to him before this; they have offered their help sincerely, and he has rejected it because he was ignoring his own suffering, and because he's afraid he's incapable of accepting it. Neve says this because she has been one of the most kind, and still, Lucanis has refused her help, to this point.

Rook has a choice here where they can say either that Lucanis always has options that they are here to show him, that they are not going anywhere until they help, or that Lucanis is losing himself in masks, and Rook can handle the real him. Neve then says:

You really think you can help him? You're such a sap, Rook.

Which is Lucanis reflecting the fear that he is not actually worth helping, and that the people around him are wasting their time trying to do so. Rook then says she needs to let them try, and Neve disappears.

We've again hit the limit of how long I'm willing to stretch dashes, so the (hopefully) final post will be here.

[joelscruff]

one day i'll feel alright (joel miller x reader) 18+

here it is... the Big One. i've been hyping up this part of my soft!dom joel series for a while now (probably too much, i'm sorry) but i'm so excited to finally share it with you guys. i just wanna note that this is not the end of soft!dom joel by any means. i wanna keep writing for these two as long as i can, just probably nothing else as long as this lmao 💖 enjoy! | masterlist summary: joel must finally face his demons when you don't return from patrol. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fem!reader, age difference (reader is mid 20s, joel mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), hurt/comfort, angst, praise kink, dirty talk, bathing together, oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, size kink, orgasm denial, comeplay, come eating, yall this one is SO filthy be warned word count: 15k | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major (joel does NOT go golfing in this fic).

The patrol schedule is posted on Monday morning outside the community center and you're one of the first people to look at it, eyes frantically scanning for your name as your heart pounds in your chest. There's no way, you think to yourself, still searching, He wouldn't actually talk to Tommy about a schedule change.

You finally find your name and feel those annoyingly familiar angry tears begin to burn in your eyes.

"Fuck you," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head, "Fuck you, Joel."

You're no longer his patrol partner.

You briefly consider going to his house, pounding on his door until he answers and screaming in his face about how ridiculous and immature he's being, but you realize that doing so would make you just as immature. Instead, you just decide to pretend it never happened, like you never patrolled with him to begin with.

"Steve is nice," one of your friends says to you later, "I like him, you'll get along."

Who the fuck is Steve? you want to ask, but then remember that it's his name that has replaced Joel's on the schedule. To make matters even worse, you're no longer going up to the ski lodge and are instead going out past the perimeter, a patrol location known to encounter raiders pretty often. Fantastic.

--

The next time you see him is that night in the dining hall, sitting in his usual corner by himself and gulping down bites of chili like he hasn't eaten in weeks. It used to be endearing, those big bites, now it just pisses you off.

He doesn't look at you. Over the past few weeks you'd grown accustomed to him peering over at you every so often, giving you small smiles to acknowledge that he saw you and remembered what the two of you shared every weekend. Neither of you would talk about it; it was private and belonged on the mountain, which you were fine with. At least he'd give you those looks, those smiles, and remind you that you were his pretty girl, his little secret.

Now his lack of acknowledgement, his purposeful ignorance of your presence, it makes you feel sick. You end up having to excuse yourself before you do something you'll regret. Like punch someone.

--

Steve is nice, but that's your first immediate problem with him. He's too nice. He talks too much, constantly trying to fill a silence that doesn't need it, asks you way too many questions and doesn't seem even vaguely put-out when you give him the most basic possible answers. He's young, probably in his mid-thirties, and you find yourself desperately missing the long and comfortable silences you shared with Joel, his gruff sighs, his breathy chuckles, his music, his books, his age. You realize pretty quickly that you view Steve as a boy and not a man, despite him being older than you. Internally, you tell yourself you need to get a grip.

Your new patrol location isn't as bad as you'd first thought; you're stationed in an abandoned cabin in a wooded area past the perimeter. It's cozy and inviting, kind of reminds you of the ski lodge, which quickly makes you feel depressed. You both take turns circling the area - although at first Steve had suggested you do it together; you'd vetoed that immediately. Your main responsibilities are checking traps and watching out for infected. It's actually a bit more engaging than your previous patrol which you feel slightly grateful for; it's nice to feel busy. And to shut your thoughts up.

At the end of your first patrol with Steve you both walk back to Jackson together in the early morning, him still continuing to chat and tell you things about himself regardless of whether you respond. You're almost back to town when you notice that you're suddenly on the same path you and Joel used to take, the one that leads up to the mountain. You stop in your tracks.

"What time is it?" you ask, interrupting whatever Steve had been prattling on about.

He looks down at his watch, "Almost six," he smiles at you, "We'll be back just in time for breakfast."

Almost six; around the time you and Joel would usually be reaching the bottom of the mountain. Your eyes scan the tree line, brow furrowing as you search for any sign of him making his way down the path. Steve stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to say something.

"Should we...?" he gestures toward the path you're both on, toward town, and you bite your lip in thought.

"Just gimme a sec," you say quickly, still searching, "I wanna say hi to my old patrol partner."

"Aw, that's sweet," he says with a smile, and it's so earnest and endearing that you can't necessarily be annoyed, "My old patrol partner, we-" he starts chatting again, buying you some more time.

Not more than a moment later, two figures suddenly emerge from the trees: Joel and Tommy. You feel your heart start to pound as they walk down the path, neither seeing you and Steve standing there until they're almost directly in front of you. They're caught up in some kind of deep conversation, you might even call it an argument judging by Tommy's stiffness and Joel's flared nostrils.

Tommy sees you first, giving you a wave and a smile, then nudging Joel. Joel follows Tommy's eyeline and suddenly freezes in his tracks, standing still on the path while Tommy continues to approach you.

"Good patrol?" he asks, nodding to Steve, "No trouble?"

"No, sir," Steve says, eager and polite, kind of like a golden retriever puppy, "No problems whatsoever."

"Glad to hear it," he looks at you again, "Hey, mind if we meet later for a chat?"

You wonder if he wants to chat about whatever he'd just been arguing about with Joel. Intrigued, you nod, "Sure."

Joel reaches you then, pace slow and hesitant. You turn to look at him, trying not to let the anger you feel toward him completely overtake you; the last thing you need right now is to either start crying or yelling.

"Hey," you say with a stiff nod.

"Hi!" Steve says beside you, and you try not to wince as he puts his hand out, waiting for Joel to take it, "I'm Steve."

Joel simply stares at him, then his hand, and then looks at you, eyes dark and cold. His gaze slips between the two of you back and forth for a few seconds, expression unreadable, then continues down the path without speaking.

"Meet me by the stream 'round noon, alright?" Tommy says, backing away to follow Joel, "I'll bring you lunch."

You watch as he catches up to Joel, says something to him, but Joel doesn't respond and just keeps on walking ahead, pace quicker and quicker. You're still just standing there watching their forms get smaller when Steve finally speaks again:

"He's...uh...friendly."

You laugh without humor, hitching your pack up your shoulder and starting to walk, "Oh, you have no idea."

--

You meet Tommy around noon by the stream like he'd asked, crossing the bridge and giving him a small wave of acknowledgement as you approach. He's got a paper bag with him; lunch, just like he'd promised.

"Tuna fish," he says with a kind smile, chuckling at the face you make as he hands the bag to you, "It was either that or egg salad."

"The dining hall must stink today," you reply with a scrunch of your nose, but you take the bag gratefully, "Thanks, Tommy."

"No problem," he gestures toward the bench he's sitting on, inviting you to join him, "Let's talk."

He talks and you mainly listen, nodding along every so often and chewing your tuna sandwich thoughtfully. He starts by thanking you for "everything" you did for him and Maria, which you quickly dodge because all you'd done is take a patrol off his hands - a patrol that's gone back to being his again, but he doesn't mention that part. He talks about how big a help you've been, how he's glad you're here, all the basic stuff he's already told you before. You're almost done your sandwich when you realize he's talking complete bullshit.

"Tommy," you say, balling the paper bag up and shoving it into your pocket, "If you wanna talk about Joel, just do it."

He freezes, recognition dawning in his eyes as he sighs and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It's a habit he and Joel share, and you can't help but feel an ache in your heart when the image of Joel doing the same thing crosses your mind.

"I'm sorry about the switch," he finally says with a deep sigh, "Joel told me to do it. Not asked, told. He was pretty obstinate, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there."

The words sting, even coming from Tommy. You swallow the last of your sandwich and cast your eyes down to the stream, watching the water ebb and flow as Tommy continues to speak.

"I just want you know that if I had it my way, you'd still be up there with him," he says it earnestly, and you understand now why he'd led with all the compliments and reassurances; he'd thought you didn't know why you'd been switched.

"I know," you say quietly, "Tommy, I know it was Joel's idea. He told me last patrol that he was gonna ask you to take me off ski lodge."

"But why?" he sounds genuinely confused, "It was working so well, Maria and I thought you had a great thing goin'."

You nod slowly, refusing to look at him, "We did. But I guess he never told you any details?"

You sense him shake his head beside you, "No, I spent almost the whole patrol trying to get him to talk about it and he wouldn't. Just kept saying it wouldn't work anymore and that he wasn't gonna say anythin' else about it. Stubborn, my brother. Always has been."

I know, you want to say, believe me, I know.

"So I figured I'd ask you."

You finally look over at him then, "There's not much to say, Tommy."

"But there's somethin'," he leans forward, looking concerned, "I know my brother, I know when he's hidin' somethin'. There's somethin' he's not telling me and I want you to tell me 'cause otherwise I'm just gonna assume the worst."

"Which is...?"

He sighs, leaning back against the bench again, "I don't even know."

You touch the back of your neck awkwardly, trying to decide how to word it. There's absolutely no way you're giving him all the details - or any details for that matter - but you do owe him some kind of explanation considering he's now losing his free time again over this.

"Me and Joel, we..." you bite your lip, "We had...." you sigh and shake your head, "Okay, what I'm about to say does not leave this bench, Tommy. You can tell Maria but that's it."

"Oh shit," he says, eyes going wide, "Were y'all fuckin' up there?"

You groan, leaning forward as your arms fall to your knees and you cover your face with your hands. He's not necessarily correct, but somehow the reality is much more embarrassing to admit. You don't say anything in response, confirming his suspicions.

"Jesus Christ," he says, voice full of genuine surprise, "I was...holy shit, I was not expectin' that."

"Anyway," you say into your hands, skin turning bright red beneath your fingertips, "It's over now and he doesn't want me up there with him anymore, that's all you need to know, okay?"

"Yeah," Tommy says immediately, "Yeah, sure, of course. I wouldn't dream of -" he makes a weird noise, "God, I did not think that's what was goin' on."

"Sorry," you wince, pulling your hands away and sitting up again to look at him. He looks genuinely uncomfortable, arms crossed as he shifts next to you on the bench, cogs turning in his mind. He's probably thinking about what exactly the two of you have been doing up there when you're supposed to be patrolling and the very thought makes both of you cringe simultaneously.

"No, don't apologize, I asked," he shakes his head again, eyes still wide, "I, uh, I won't tell anybody, no worries."

"You can tell Maria," you reiterate, "I don't want you keeping anything from your wife."

"I'll tell her but I doubt she'll believe me," he's staring ahead, still in shock, "You? With Joel? I'm sorry but..." he laughs loudly, still shaking his head, "I didn't think my brother had it in him."

You make a face and stand up, "Okay, that's my cue to leave."

"No, sorry, I'll leave," he stands up as well and digs his hands down into his pockets awkwardly, "I'll uh... be at the bar, if you need me."

He goes to cross the bridge but stops halfway, turning slowly and giving you one last kind and gentle look, apologetic.

"Hey, I'm sorry it didn't work out," he says, and you can tell he means it, "You're real sweet, my brother's just an ass."

"I know," you say with a small nod, "You did warn me."

"I did," he says it sadly, looking down at the stream, "He has his reasons, though. Maybe he'll tell you one day."

"Maybe."

He turns back around and walks away, leaving you standing there alone by the stream with an ache in your heart that won't go away.

He was pretty obstinate, Tommy's words echo in your head, told me it wasn't workin' between you two anymore and he wasn't gonna stay on ski lodge if you were there.

You stare at the steady flowing water and try not to think about how much it hurts to know he really said that to Tommy. Is that how little you mean to him? How little what the two of you shared meant? You've known the whole time that it wasn't a "real" relationship, you haven't even kissed him for god's sake, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A little weird, a little timid, but soft and new and safe and warm. And all along you'd just been a distraction for him.

In the deepest parts of yourself you've known this all along, remembered how many times in the past few weeks he said that it would be the last time, that he couldn't do it anymore, and you'd just continued to persist and persist until he'd finally had enough. You hadn't really thought he'd end it, didn't think he really meant it.

The tears start flowing before you can stop them. You continue to just stand there dejectedly, staring at the water and trying to figure out what exactly it is about you that made him simply stop caring - if he even cared to begin with.

A rustle of branches makes you jump and your head snaps up, looking toward the sound. A short distance away you catch a bush moving in an unnatural sort of way, shaking back and forth like someone had been watching from behind it. Quickly, you dash forward and pull the leaves apart to find the culprit.

No one's there.

Hurriedly you wipe your face and walk across the bridge, shoving your hands back in your pockets and hoping someone hasn't just witnessed your moment of weakness. And if they have, they'd better keep it to themselves.

--

Another week passes without any acknowledgement from Joel. You decide to stop eating in the dining hall because it hurts too much, instead grabbing your meals to-go and eating them either in your house or by the stream. On one occasion you'd arrived at the stream at the same time Ellie had decided to sit and practice guitar, freezing in place when you saw her. You hadn't spoken since that one very brief conversation months ago when she'd asked about your scars. You hadn't known then what you know now.

"Hey," she'd said with a nod, then went back to strumming aimlessly on her guitar, "You can eat your lunch here, I don't mind."

You'd shaken your head and taken a step back, "No, that's okay, sorry," then you'd turned and practically run away from her, not entirely sure why.

She reminds you of Joel, you dummy, you'd thought to yourself on the walk back home, biting down on your lip and trying to keep the tears at bay this time. Everything reminds you of Joel.

--

On Saturday morning you hear a knock at your door. You're still in bed, confused and bleary eyed as you sit up and wait to hear it again, just to be sure you're not still dreaming. When you hear a second series of knocks you practically tumble out of the bed and run downstairs, blanket trailing behind you as you dart to the front door.

It's Joel, it has to be Joel, he's here to apologize, he's gonna kiss you and tell you he's sorry.

You yank open the door and feel your face fall immediately when you see none other than Steve standing there, hands on his hips. He grins at you but it falters slightly when he looks down and sees that you're still in your pajamas.

"Morning, sleepy head," he greets you, reaching forward to playfully bump your arm with his fist, "Looks like someone missed their alarm."

You stare at him, vision still slightly blurred from sleep. You reach up to rub your eyes so you can see him clearer, make sure he's actually standing there in front of you. Yup, he is.

You force yourself to smile back - something which takes a lot of effort but he seems to find genuine - and reply, "My bad, I guess I did."

"No worries," he says with another wide grin, "We got some time before we need to leave, no rush!"

You force one last smile and shut the door in his face, trying not to slam it - even though you really want to. You look at the clock on the wall over your fireplace and make a face: 4:30. He woke you up at 4:30, half an hour before your alarm.

"Steve, I swear to god," you grumble to yourself, heading for the bathroom as you drop your blanket to the floor and clamor back up the stairs; there's no point in going back to sleep, you're wide awake now and pissed.

You know who'd never do this? Joel.

After a shower and a quick bowl of cereal you head back out to meet Steve, prepared to put on your best everything is great impression again. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you open your door.

"Listen, sir, I think you should leave," Steve is saying, voice cracking slightly as he talks to the figure in front of him.

It's still dark outside; the sun hasn't come up yet and everything is muted and hard to make out. It takes you a few seconds to figure out who Steve is talking to, the figure shrouded in shadow and half hidden behind Steve's tall form. You feel your face go pale when you hear him reply.

"You didn't answer my question," the growl is unmistakably Joel's and you grip the edge of the door in your hands tightly, not opening it all the way as you eavesdrop. What the fuck is he doing here? What question?

"I don't think I owe you a reply," Steve replies, attempting to stand his ground but sounding pretty pathetic, voice shaky and high, "I think you should move along, sir."

"What the fuck are you doing at this girl's house at four in the fucking morning?" Joel practically spits, taking a step toward Steve. In response, Steve takes a step backward. He's not a confrontational guy, you know that from the one patrol you've spent with him, "Answer me."

"I'm her patrol partner," Steve finally says, putting his hands up in defeat, "I'm waiting for her to get ready."

"Patrols don't start 'til five thirty."

"It's true, I swear, you literally met me last week!"

That seems to stump Joel, and he must be trying to figure out what to say next when you shove the door open and walk out onto your porch.

"Joel, what the fuck are you doing?" you ask, voice steady and firm. He looks over at you in surprise, backing away from Steve. Is it just your imagination or did his expression soften when he saw you? But that doesn't matter now.

You walk down the steps of your patio and stand in front of Steve, shoving him behind you lightly, "Steve, I'll meet you at the gate," you say firmly.

"But-"

"Steve. Please leave. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

"...Okay," you can't see him but you hear him walk away from you, trudging down the gravel path in the opposite direction. Once his footsteps are faint enough, you finally address Joel again.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you repeat, "Why are you berating Steve in front of my house?"

"Who the fuck is Steve?" Joel asks; the question of the hour.

"My patrol partner," you reply, shaking your head, "I mean, you should probably know that seeing as you're the one who switched with him."

"I don't know who I switched with, Tommy did that," he retorts, looking away from you, down at his boots, "Wasn't my decision."

"Right, 'cause nothing's ever your fault, right?"

He looks back up, a glint of emotion in his eyes that you've seen only once before, "You have no fucking idea," he says, voice heavy and gruff, "Don't even-"

"Don't even what, Joel? You're the one standing in front of my house at the ass crack of dawn yelling at some guy you've never even talked to before. Steve's actually great, by the way," you're laying it on thick but you don't care; you want him to think you've moved on, "Patrolling with him is much better than patrolling with you."

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Yeah," you lie, cheeks going red with anger, "He actually talks to me."

"And fucks you, I gather?" he says it with a hard edge that makes your blood run cold.

You stand there just staring at him, mouth agape as he lets what he just said wash over you. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling those godforsaken tears sting in your eyes as you take a step away from him, genuinely fearful that you might end up slapping him or punching him or doing something you shouldn't.

"Fuck you," your voice is small and broken and the tears are already flowing, "Fuck you, Joel."

His expression changes then, and you know an apology is coming. You put your hand up before he can speak, shaking your head.

"Don't," you say, firm and solid, not bothering to wipe your tears as they flick off your face into the grass below, "We're done." You turn on your heel and stomp away from him, feeling a sob wrack through you as you cross your arms and speed walk to the main gate where you know Steve is waiting.

Joel doesn't follow you.

--

Steve knows better than to question you about what happened. As soon as you'd approached him at the gate he'd seen your tears and the shake of your head when he'd opened his mouth to say something. Ten minutes later you were on your way out to the cabin again without either of you saying a word.

Now you're back on patrol with an aching heart and a huge lump in your throat that won't go away no matter what you do, trailing the perimeter back and forth with your head hung and eyes downcast. Joel's words repeat over and over in your head like a curse, damning you into a feeling of guilt that you don't think you really deserve. You haven't done shit with Steve, the assumption that you'd just immediately moved on from your sexual relationship with Joel to another man makes your blood boil. Who the fuck does he think you are?

Do you really even know him? This whole time he's remained so secretive and aloof, mysterious and cryptic. You hadn't pushed him to reveal more about himself, hoping eventually he'd open up to you, but he never did. Just kept you on a short leash with good girl and pretty girl and the way he'd look at you in those moments where you bared yourself to him.

But you're not much better, you remind yourself with a grimace, and you know it's true. You never told him much about yourself or your past. Yes, you would've, but you didn't. And you're the one who kept asking to get off with him, kept expecting more and being disappointed when he wouldn't give it to you even though he was clear about his boundaries.

"But that doesn't give him the right," you mutter to yourself, still walking through the muddy grass, deep in thought, "It doesn't make what he said okay."

No, it doesn't. But maybe he's hurting more than he lets on. Maybe this isn't as cut and dry for him as you'd thought. Why the fuck had he been snooping around your house so early this morning? He only lives a few houses down from you; had he seen Steve and felt he had to protect you? Does he actually care about you, as much as he tries to put on a front that it's only been sexual between you two and nothing more? Is that why he's been so distant?

You suddenly realize that you've gone much further than the perimeter, continuing to walk ahead instead of turning back and circling the area. You freeze, eyes scanning around as you try to discern exactly how far you've gone.

"Fuck," you mutter, turning around and starting to walk directly back the way you came, hoping it'll lead you right back to where you're meant to be.

--

It doesn't.

You'd been so lost in thought that somehow you've managed to lose the original path, the tall grass hiding any sign of your own footsteps. This is only your second time out here so nothing looks familiar; it's all grass and mud and trees and rocks. How long have you even been walking? Joel had once admonished you for not having a watch, said one day it was gonna bite you in the ass; you hate that he was right.

"Steve?" you call out, unsure if he'll be able to hear you since you don't know how far you've trailed from the cabin, "You there?"

No reply. You stop again and do another quick glance around, looking for anything that seems familiar to you. But no, this isn't the ski lodge perimeter where you'd grown accustomed to each tree, each stump, each rock. Nothing here is even vaguely telling you exactly where to turn.

You feel the dull throb of panic beneath the surface of your emotions but you quickly shove it down; you're good in situations like this, you've certainly been through enough shit to not get frightened over being a little lost. You've been lost before, you'll figure it out.

All the same, you keep track of the sun's location in the sky as you continue your directionless trek, noting that it's directly above you; noon. You have plenty of time before dark to find your way back, no sweat.

--

It must be around three o'clock when you finally make it back. Relief floods your entire body as you walk into the clearing and see the small wooden cabin sitting there still and picturesque, exactly how you'd left it. You bend down, closing your eyes and pressing your hands to your knees to take a few deep breaths and ground yourself. The panic had started to really settle in about an hour ago, but luckily it hadn't gotten to a point where you'd been too afraid to keep going.

"Steve," you say loudly, still breathing deeply, "I'm back."

No reply. You open your eyes again, heart still thumping in your chest as you eye the cabin for any sign of him. You walk over hesitantly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach when you open the front door and are greeted to a dark and empty cabin.

"Steve?" you say again, voice shaky.

No reply.

Fuck. He must have gone looking for you when you didn't come back to switch. Either that or he went back to Jackson, but you can't see a guy like Steve doing that. The way he'd stood up to Joel this morning, as embarrassing as it was, it had been enough to show you exactly what kind of man Steve is. He'd definitely gone to look for you. It's only fair that you do the same for him.

You grab a roll of twine from the cabin and start your search, making sure to mark the trees every now and then so you can find your way back again. You'd been advised in your patrol orientation not to do this because of raiders, but you doubt Tommy or Maria will give you shit for making sure you and Steve actually make it back to Jackson alive.

The thought makes the panic start to rise again, but you keep going.

--

You keep hoping you'll find some sign of Steve, but it's been about two hours and nothing has caught your eye. The twine is starting to run out and you fear you'll have to go back to Jackson without him, which will undoubtedly start a panic and a huge search party, all because you got a little distracted. This shit with Joel doesn't even matter anymore - you can't believe you let it affect you how it did. And now Steve is paying the price.

Another hour passes and you're preparing to turn back when you see it out of the corner of your eye. You freeze, hair standing up at the back of your neck when you look down to see shiny droplets of blood painting the grass.

You lean down instinctively, eyes wide, reaching forward to touch one of the many large red drops. It shivers beneath your finger, not yet fully dry. It's fresh.

Without hesitation you stand back up and pull your pistol out of its holster, cocking it and holding it steadily in front of you as you start to walk again. You have absolutely no idea what you're expecting to pop out at you; raiders? Infected? Or maybe Steve just cut himself somehow and you've taken your gun out for nothing.

A loud scream suddenly pierces the silence of the forest.

"STEVE!" you scream back, face going pale as you begin to sprint through the woods, gun still in front of you, "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, I'M COMING."

It's the last thing you say before you suddenly feel something tight grip your ankle and send you flying into the air, gun falling out of your hand. You find yourself completely upside down, entangled in a net.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You sway back and forth in the thick netting, trying to find your gun somewhere below you, but you quickly become much too dizzy to discern absolutely anything. You hear Steve's scream again, further away this time, and your blood runs cold. The panic takes over and you can't speak.

Please, you think to yourself, shutting your eyes tight and trying to keep the dizziness at bay, please don't let me die before I see him again.

It's not Steve you're thinking about.

It doesn't take long for the blood to rush to your head, for your body to go completely numb as you hang there upside down, completely alone. You pass out within minutes.

--

It's pitch black when you wake up.

You're no longer hanging from a tree in the forest, no longer tangled up in a net. Instead, you're lying on what feels like a concrete floor. Your head is pounding, lips dry and parched. Your whole body feels heavy and achy, so much so that you can barely move.

"She's awake," you hear a voice say somewhere close by; it's female and sounds familiar, but not enough for you to place it.

You hear the squeaky hinges of a door opening, then a few hushed whispers that you can't make out. The door shuts again and you swear you hear the sound of a deadbolt being locked in place.

"Where am I?" you finally whisper, voice rough and broken, "Let me go."

"You're in Jackson," the female voice replies, kind and gentle, "You're safe now."

"Who are you?" you can't bring yourself to open your eyes, unsure if this person is really telling you the truth.

"It's Ellie," the voice replies, and recognition dawns on you immediately, "Remember me?"

You nod slowly, wincing at the pain as you continue to lie there on the floor, "Y-yes."

"When you didn't come back this morning they sent out a search party. Tommy found you hanging in a tree, brought you back right away."

This morning? So you must have been hanging there all night. Jesus, no wonder you feel the way you do.

You finally open your eyes then, and are beyond relieved when your vision isn't dizzy and blurry like it had been before you'd passed out. You spot Ellie a few feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, peering down at you with a soft expression.

"Steve?" you whisper.

Her brow furrows, "They found him too. I don't know the details but he was hurt pretty bad," she shakes her head, "They're gonna do everything they can."

You nod again, swallowing and wincing at the dryness of your throat, "C-can I have some water?"

"Oh, fuck, of course," she reaches behind her and grabs a bottle, then walks over to you. Her movements are slow, hesitant, and when she hands you the bottle her arm darts out and back extremely quickly.

You stare at her in confusion, slowly bringing yourself to sit up. She backs away from you again, presses herself against the wall and crosses her arms again. It's like she's feigning nonchalance.

Reality dawns on you.

"Am I bit?" you manage to whisper, clutching the water bottle tightly.

She swallows, looks directly in your eyes, "We're hoping you can answer that for us."

You slowly bring the water to your lips, mind racing. You try to remember anything beyond getting caught up in the net but there's absolutely nothing. If you'd been bit afterward, wouldn't it have woken you up? Wouldn't you feel the pain somewhere on you now?

You drink the entire bottle of water and place it next to you on the floor, then you begin to feel your body, placing your hands back and forth all over yourself and trying to find a particular spot that feels like it might have been bit. You come up blank; all that you feel is a steady ache from being numb for so long.

"I don't think so," you finally say, crossing your legs and bringing your hands to rest in front of you, "I feel okay."

"We only found you about two hours ago," she says softly, "So we weren't sure. This is where they keep people for observation, people who might be infected."

You assess your surroundings. You must be in some kind of shed; it's small and there's no furniture, only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. If you'd woken up alone you probably would've thought you'd been kidnapped. Your brow furrows and you look over at Ellie in confusion.

"If I might be bit, why are they keeping you in here with me?" you ask, bewildered, "It's not safe for you."

Ellie kicks her heel and shrugs, "I don't know, they just thought you shouldn't be alone when you woke up."

She's lying and you don't know why, but you don't have the energy to press her further. What's important is that you're not alone, and you appreciate that. You watch as she inhales deeply, lost in thought, then brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezes. Just like Joel.

Joel.

"Does he know?" you suddenly whisper.

You didn't say his name but she clearly knows who you're talking about. She sets her lips in a firm line, "Yeah."

You place your head in your hands and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes tight. You suddenly feel like you want to cry, just at the thought of that big, broad, grumpy man being told that you didn't come back from patrol. Had he been upset? Annoyed? Angry? Scared?

"He's freaking out," Ellie answers for you, voice quiet, "He punched Tommy in the face."

"What?" you stare at her, eyes wide, "Why'd he do that?"

She laughs softly to herself, shaking her head, "Tommy wouldn't let him go with the search party."

Your face scrunches in confusion, "Why not?"

She looks away from you then, eyeing the closed door, "Because Tommy thought his feelings would get in the way," her voice is slightly shaky, like she might cry, "He thought if they found you dead, Joel might not come back, might try to find the motherfuckers who did it and make them pay."

You're already shaking your head, "That's dumb, he wouldn't do that."

Ellie laughs again, turning back to look at you, "You really don't know anything about Joel, do you?"

You stare, waiting for her to speak again. She adjusts her position, slowly sliding down the wall and sitting across from you with her knees pulled up against her chest.

"Joel's killed a lot of people," she says quietly, looking over at you with tired eyes, "I mean, a lot of us have, I'm sure you have too. We've all done shit we're not proud of," she thumbs a tear on her jeans, biting down on her lip, "But when it comes to the people he cares about... Joel doesn't do things halfway, never."

You swallow, "Ellie, I don't think Joel cares about me in the way you're thinking."

She smiles then, small and hesitant, but still a smile, "As I said, you don't really know much about him. Not like I do."

"But-"

She puts a hand up, "I know about the two of you. I overheard you and Tommy talking last week."

You remember that afternoon by the stream, the rustle of the bushes, when you'd pulled the branches back expecting to see someone but found nobody there.

"That was you?" you ask, eyebrows raised, "By the stream?"

She nods, "I showed up to play my guitar and you guys were already there talking. I wasn't gonna listen but then I heard Joel's name and..." she sighs, looking down at her knees, "I might not be talking to Joel right now but I like to know what he's up to."

You nod slowly, "So...you heard about..."

"The mountain, yeah," she makes a face, "Listen, I don't want the details, trust me, but I wasn't surprised when you said that, not the way Tommy was anyway," she giggles, "I love seeing him get all uncomfortable, it's so funny."

You snort, shaking your head, "Please, it was so awkward."

"He really had no idea, but I think I did, somehow," she smiles again, wistful, "As I said, I might not be talking to Joel but that doesn't mean I don't look out for him, watch him, make sure he's doing alright," she looks down again, "I'm not heartless, okay?"

"I know," you say earnestly, "I know you're not."

"I knew something was different with him. He's been so quiet and sad, doesn't talk to people very much anymore, but these past few weeks it was like he had a pep in his step, like the old Joel was coming back," she smiles at the thought, "And then I saw the way he'd look at you in the dining hall, all those little smiles. And at first I was like...gross. But then..." she sighs, shaking her head, "I don't know, I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him."

Her words elicit a warmth in your chest, soft and safe, like the feeling of being in Joel's presence. You wrap your arms around yourself, huddling forward and continuing to listen.

"We were eating breakfast when Tommy announced the search party this morning. As soon as he said what had happened I looked over at Joel. He looked like he'd just received the worst news of his life," her voice shakes again, like she's on the verge of tears, "He ran up to Tommy, started asking questions about the search, when they were starting, what way they were going, all that. Tommy told him that he couldn't come, they argued, Joel punched Tommy and then I had to practically pull them apart."

"You?" your mouth is agape, "You stopped the fight?"

She nods with another small smile, "As soon as Joel realized it was me pulling on him, he stopped. I told him I knew about what was going on, I said I'd stay with him until you came back safe and sound."

You feel tears prick in your eyes at the words, "That must have meant a lot to him."

"It meant the world to him, I know that," she says quietly, "I haven't talked to him for a long time, I'm sure you know that."

You nod, "I do."

She's silent then for a few moments, staring at the closed door again. When she finally speaks, her voice is shakier than ever, "I sat with him in his living room until they got back with you and Steve. He wanted to see you but they wouldn't let him, so I volunteered to stay with you. That's why I'm here."

She leans back against the wall with a sigh, biting down on her lip. You see tears beginning to brim in her eyes and you look away, knowing you wouldn't want someone staring at you if it was you getting emotional.

"He's lost a lot, you know," she says softly, sniffling a little bit, "He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about," she takes a breath, shaky and full of emotion, "He almost lost me, too. That's part of the reason we're not talking."

You stare at the concrete floor, letting her words sink in. A daughter? Joel had been a father? And Tess, who was she? A girlfriend? A wife? Clearly someone important, and he'd lost both of them.

You've been through your share of trauma, experienced your own losses, but never to that degree. You'd never gotten close enough to someone to really feel a loss like that, can't even imagine what it would feel like. Your heart aches for him; that stoic, quiet, and mysterious man who'd let you in but kept you at arm's length... for reasons you're beginning to understand.

You stand up slowly, wincing at the aches you feel, your skin feeling prickly and uncomfortable as your circulation continues to regulate. Ellie's words cycle through your mind as you stretch, ringing quiet and tender in your ears; I think it's cute how much he likes you. How much you changed him.

"When can I see him?" you ask softly, still avoiding looking at her as you pull at parts of your clothes, searching again for a bite you're pretty sure doesn't exist.

"I'll ask Maria," Ellie replies just as quiet, standing up as well and walking over to the door, "If you were bit you'd be showing signs by now, I think you're okay."

"Ask her about Steve too, please," you add, "I need to know if he's alive."

She nods and opens the door, then goes outside and shuts it behind her. You hear the deadbolt slide back into place.

You burst into tears.

--

Ellie returns with Maria about ten minutes later, both of them looking at you with kind and sympathetic expressions when they find you standing in the middle of the room sobbing your heart out. Without hesitation, Maria walks forward and wraps her arms around you tightly.

"It's okay, sweetie," she says softly in your ear, rubbing your back gently, "Steve's okay, he's gonna make it."

Ellie looks down when she says this, and part of you knows that she knows you're not crying about Steve.

--

They walk you home slowly, Maria on one side and Ellie on your other. You complain a bit, telling them you're okay to walk on your own, but neither pay your stubbornness any mind, just keep their arms linked through yours as they walk you to your house.

You're on your street when you see two figures up ahead, and your heart starts to pound harder and harder in your chest the closer you get. Because you know who it is.

Joel and Tommy are leaning against the banister of Joel's front patio, talking quietly to themselves. You grimace at the sight of Tommy's black eye but feel relief flood through you when you see that he's smiling at Joel, clearly no animosity present.

"Look who's up!" Ellie says loudly, and they both turn to look in your direction.

Joel freezes, staring at you for a few brief seconds of recognition before he's suddenly throwing himself from the patio and sprinting toward you. You feel both Ellie and Maria release you from their grips, right before you're suddenly enveloped in the warmest, sweetest, most sincere hug you've ever received in your life.

Throughout all these months of knowing Joel, he's never truly touched you. Sure, he's touched your hand, shook it during your official introduction, helped you stand up here and there. He's touched your face once, your lips twice. And he's touched you where you longed for him to, begged him to, but only for a moment, just one touch. Gentle, tender, but never long enough for you to really feel him the way you've wanted to.

Now he pulls you close without any hesitation, no rules, no consequences. He presses his lips to the top of your head and whispers your name over and over until it sounds like a mantra, a prayer.

"Joel," you breathe, and you feel the tears start up again as you shut your eyes tight and just feel, listen to him say your name and hold you like you'll fall apart if he lets go.

"I thought I lost you," he says, voice rough and emotional, "Before I could even tell you how sorry I am."

"Shh," you squeeze him tighter, burying your face in his strong chest, "Don't worry about that, I'm here. I'm okay."

He holds you impossibly tighter and you hear the unmistakable sound of a sob rip through his teeth, tears dripping from his face into your hair. You pull back just enough to look up at him, see him peer down at you with an expression on his face that you've never seen before, impossibly soft and fond, eyes bright and yearning. Love.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, inhaling shakily, "For everything."

You shake your head furiously, "Joel, it's oka-"

"It's not okay," he interrupts, voice breaking again, "I'm so sorry. Not just for what I said yesterday, but for everything else. For pushing you away, making you feel like it was your fault, I'm so fucking sorry," he pulls you in again, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, "God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted to just hold you like this. I was such a fucking coward."

"You were afraid," you whisper, shaking your head, "I understand, Joel, I get it."

He lets out another sob, squeezes you tighter, "Don't let me go," he breathes, "Please don't let go."

For the entire hug you'd thought he was the one holding you, but you now realize that for him it's the other way around. You feel yourself start to cry harder as you pull him in tighter and just stand there, arms wrapped around his middle, face pressed against his chest as the beat of his heart thrums steadily in your ear. You both inhale and exhale deeply, moving as one being, one solid force. He kisses your head again and you melt further into his touch.

"I'm gonna head back to town," you hear Maria say softly nearby, probably to Tommy and Ellie, "Tommy, can you go check on Steve, make sure he's still doing okay?"

Joel stiffens at the name, suddenly pulling back from you to look over at Maria, "He alright?"

Maria nods, "Yeah," she turns to look at you then, expression serious, "He told us that when you didn't come back to switch patrols, he got worried, went out looking for you. Ended up running into a group of raiders, the same ones who set that trap you fell into. They stabbed him a couple times but nothing critical, he managed to get a few hits in himself before he got away, led them in the opposite direction."

"Jesus," you mutter, feeling guilt rush through you, "Are they still out there?"

"No," Tommy replies, shaking his head, "We took care of it. Steve knocked 'em around pretty good but we made sure none of 'em were breathin' by the time we left."

You nod slowly, still in Joel's embrace, "Tell him I'm sorry," you say quietly, "It's my fault."

"Shhh," Joel pulls you close again, rubbing your back gently, "Don't worry about that, let's get you inside."

"Make sure she has a bath," Maria says quickly, "Keep her warm, give her some food."

"I'm not a hamster," you groan, and you're surprised to hear Ellie laugh behind you. You'd forgotten she was there.

Joel suddenly pulls out of your embrace, still holding you with one arm while he reaches toward Ellie, "Come here," he says softly, "Please."

She shakes her head, taking a step back, "I'm going with Maria," she bites her lip, looks down and then looks back at Joel who's still staring longingly at her, "But I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

"Okay," he says quietly, voice still shaky, "Promise?"

She nods, gives him a small smile, "Promise."

--

"Where do you wanna go?" Joel had asked you softly, "Mine or yours?"

"Yours," you'd whispered immediately, no hesitation, "Please."

You now find yourself in Joel Miller's house, somewhere you never really ever pictured yourself. It's pretty similar to yours but there are a few differences, namely the amount of books and art. You hadn't known that Ellie was an artist; there are drawings all over his house, some in frames, some just laid around, all signed by Ellie, all beautiful. There's a picture she drew of him that he has framed on his fireplace, and you find yourself picking it up with a smile.

"Bath's almost ready," Joel says quietly behind you, and you spin back around. He looks at the picture in your hand, smiling softly, "Ellie drew that."

"She's really talented," you reply with a smile, "Wonder where she gets all this artsy fartsy stuff from?"

He chuckles, still standing a few feet away from you, "It's a mystery."

You place the picture back down and turn to look at him, feeling a nervousness in the pit of your stomach that you haven't felt around him in a long time, not since that first night together. Things are different now, it's palpable, and both of you are aware of it.

"Will you take a bath with me?" you ask quietly, unsure.

He nods slowly, eyes trained on your face, "Of course I will."

--

The bath is warm and welcoming. Joel had told you to strip down, get in, and that he'd be back momentarily with some food for you. You can't help but feel a little disappointed that he hadn't stuck around to watch you undress, but maybe it would've been inappropriate considering the circumstances.

You ease yourself under the water, a satisfied moan escaping your lips as the bath completely envelops you. He's put something in the water to make it smell good, lavender or vanilla. It instantly relaxes you, the heat of the water and the delicious smell making you feel completely at ease.

You lay there for a few minutes in silence, eyes closed, focusing on your breathing and bringing things back into perspective. You're okay, you're safe. Steve is okay, he's safe. You're both back in Jackson. You're with Joel, you're in his bath tub, he's downstairs making you lunch. Everything is okay.

Ellie's words filter through your brain again, distant but present; He lost his daughter a long time ago, and a woman named Tess he really cared about.

A light knock on the bathroom door shakes you from your thoughts. You smile, "Come in."

Joel enters the bathroom, bowl of soup in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other. He places them on the chair next to the tub, eyes avoiding you as he focuses on the task at hand. He kneels by the tub and spoons some of the soup carefully, then finally looks at your face as he brings the spoon to your mouth. You open, letting him feed you, letting him take care of you.

"Good?" he asks softly, gaze still on your face, ever the gentleman.

"Good," you say with a smile.

He feeds you a few more spoonfuls, smiling fondly at you as you eat. After a few moments of this you put your hand up, shaking your head, "That's enough for now, why don't you get in with me?"

His gaze finally falls then, looks at your body beneath the water, sees your nipples poking through the surface. He sighs, leans back a bit on his knees and shakes his head.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he says quietly.

"Joel," you say quickly, voice steady, "Don't pull away from me. Not now. Not anymore."

He looks at your face again, expression sad and distant, "I'm afraid," he admits, "I'm afraid of being close to you."

"I know," you whisper, and you reach over to place your hand over his, stroking him gently with your thumb, "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid."

"I've lost a lot of people," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I thought...I thought if I let myself get close to you, if I gave you what you wanted...I'd get attached. I'd fall for you," he says it earnestly, voice breaking slightly on the last few words, "But here I am, fallin' for you anyway."

You smile at him, soft and loving. You squeeze his hand and slowly sit up in the bath, putting yourself on display for him. His eyes don't leave yours, but he swallows and tenses his jaw at your movement.

"Bad things have happened to the people I care about," he says quietly, barely a whisper, "And you're young, you're beautiful, you have this whole life ahead of you and I'm-" his voice breaks and he looks down again, tears cascading down his cheeks, "I'm scared you'll end up like those people, dead and gone because of me."

"Joel-"

"And I'm scared I don't deserve it," he interrupts, looking up at you again, mouth trembling, "I don't think I deserve love. I don't deserve someone like you 'cause of everything I've done."

"What about Ellie?" you ask softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "She's alive and she loves you."

He scoffs, shaking his head, "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," you mean it, leaning forward to cradle his hand in both of yours, "I talked to that girl for the first time today, really talked to her, and I can see it plain as day. She loves you more than you could ever know, Joel."

"She stayed with me today," he whispers shakily, nodding slowly, "She sat with me 'til we knew you were safe."

"And you think that's hate?" you ask softly, "Joel, that's love."

He looks at you again, expression pained. You bring his hand to your lips, press a gentle and tender kiss to every knuckle, showing him how much he's worth, how much he means to you.

"I'm afraid," he repeats through his tears, watching you kiss him, "I'm afraid to want you the way I do."

You release his hand and lean back slightly in the tub, extending your arm for him to take, gazing at him with all the love and care you can muster, "Get in with me," you whisper, the splash of water the only sound in the room save for your heartbeats, both of which you swear you can hear, "Don't be afraid."

His eyes cast downward to your lips and he swallows again, then looks back up into your eyes, "Okay."

You watch as he stands up and starts to unbutton his shirt. You can tell that he's extremely nervous, his fingers trembling as he fights to get each button open.

"I'm gonna close my eyes," you say tenderly, "And when you're ready, tap my shoulder and I'll let you in behind me, okay?"

He nods slowly, fingers frozen on the third button, "Okay," he repeats.

You close your eyes and lean back, listening to the rustle of clothes beside you as he undresses. You're not used to this Joel, the one who seems powerless and submissive. You're not usually the one giving him orders, it's always been the other way around. You know he's just nervous, afraid of being close to you like this, and all you want is for him to feel relaxed again in your presence, feel like himself.

After a moment he taps your shoulder; you lean forward in the bath and feel him ease in behind you, his legs entrapping yours along the edges of the tub. He seats himself down, places his hands around your middle and pulls you in close. You feel his groin press against your lower back; you've never felt his cock before, and somehow the casual intimacy of his softness pressed against you makes you smile.

"You can open your eyes," he whispers, then presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

You do as you're told, immediately seeing the way his legs are splayed out in front of you, long and strong beneath the water. You've never realized how small you are compared to him until this moment, completely enrobed in his body, heart thrumming against your back.

"This is heaven," you whisper, leaning back against him and closing your eyes again, "This is what I wanted, all along."

"I think you wanted a bit more than this," he replies with a chuckle, kissing your neck again, "And you'll get it, I promise. Let's just...let's just sit here for a little while first, alright?"

"As long as you need to," you murmur, and you swear you feel him smile against your skin.

--

You bathe together for a long time, just laying in each other's embrace and enjoying the company. Being this close to Joel truly is everything you could have ever hoped for, his strong arms wrapped around you as he noses your neck and breathes you in, holds you against his naked body like you're meant to fit there. He's so big and warm; you've never felt more safe.

At one point you scooch back a bit in this embrace, feel your ass unintentionally rub lightly against his cock beneath the water. Neither of you say anything, but you both slowly become aware of the way he hardens, begins to grow larger against you.

A few moments later the head of his cock is pulsing against your lower back. Your eyes are lidded, heavy, head bobbing backward to nestle at the base of his neck. His hands on your belly move upward to cup your breasts, holding you firmly and securely against him.

"Joel," you whisper, "Touch me."

The words bring both of you back to the ski lodge, the power he holds over you there, the way you're always at his mercy. You hope, despite the new situation, he'll be that person again for you. You crave it, need it.

"Not yet," he murmurs in your ear, "Be patient, pretty girl."

There he is.

You swallow, close your eyes and submit completely as he palms your breasts, tweaks your nipples between his fingers gently. You whimper pathetically, shuffle back against his cock again, feel the hard length of it along your back.

"You were a bad girl yesterday," he whispers in your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, making you shiver, "And today. Gettin' lost like that, makin' me worry..."

"M'sorry," you murmur, hands moving down to grip his thighs as he brings your earlobe into your mouth and sucks it, "Didn't m-mean to make you worry."

"I think," he whispers, breath hot against your skin, "I'm finally gonna have to punish you."

The words send tingles up and down your spine, eyes almost rolling back in your head when he sucks your earlobe again, eliciting sounds from you that only he knows how to generate. You squeeze his thighs tighter, feeling your pussy begin to pulse beneath the water.

"How?" you breathe, voice weak.

He releases your ear and noses your cheek, brings one of his hands from your breasts and rests a finger against your chin. He turns your face to the side, urging you to look at him. His eyes are dark, full of want and desire, and you know you're completely at his mercy.

"I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he whispers, "Gonna fill that pussy up with my cock."

The words send you into a tailspin, a guttural whine escaping your lips as your fingers press into his thighs, rubbing your own together to seek some purchase against your heat. He smiles, presses a gentle kiss to your temple, drops his hands and places them over yours, big and strong.

"I know that's what you want," he whispers, entangling his fingers with yours over his thighs, "But I'm gonna give it to you over and over again, gonna make you come as many times as I want, 'til you're begging me to stop, tellin' me it's too much, that you couldn't possibly come again," he squeezes your hands, licks a stripe up the side of your neck, "And then I'll give you another one."

"Please," you breathe, voice broken and full of desire, "Please, fuck me, Joel. I need it so bad."

"I know you do, baby," he whispers, "So be a good girl for me and do as I say, okay?"

"Okay," you whimper, leaning back in his embrace, feeling his cock prod your back.

"Say it."

"I'll be your good girl," you whine, trembling under his gaze, "I'm your good girl, Joel. Only yours."

He groans softly in your ear, "That's right, baby," he releases your hands from beneath his and cups your breasts again, squeezing gently, "Now, open yourself up for me."

With trembling fingers you reach beneath the water and pull your lips apart, using both hands to spread yourself for him. The water tickles you, makes you quiver in his grasp as you slowly push your middle finger inside.

"There you go," he whispers, "That feel good, pretty girl?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, throbbing around your finger.

"Add as many as you like," he tells you, "Need to be nice and open for my cock."

The very thought of finally having him inside you makes you whimper again as you add a second finger, feeling his familiar gaze on your cunt. It's so different this time, feeling how hard he is against you, being in his naked embrace while you obey his commands. This is nothing like being in his lap when he'd been fully clothed, holding you open for him. This is sex, pure sex that you know is going to last hours.

"Look at that," he murmurs when you've started to pump three fingers in and out of yourself at a steady pace, "So full for me, already ready to come, huh?"

You whimper, leaning back against his chest, feeling his wiry hair rub against your cheek. Without any hesitation he suddenly reaches down and presses his index finger to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Remember when I touched this clit for the first time?" he murmurs in your ear, circling it softly over and over, "Remember how you came just from a little touch? So sensitive, baby. Such a good girl."

His words send you over the edge, making you squirm and shake in his embrace as he gives you your first orgasm of the day, coaxes it out of you easily. You whimper when he touches your wrist, pulls your fingers out to replace them with his own.

"That's one," he whispers, sliding his index finger inside your heat, and you're not sure if he's talking about the orgasm or the digit. You're too blissed out to care, head bobbing against his neck again as he fingers you, adds a second and presses his lips to your ear, "Baby, she's so tight," he breathes, teasing a third at your entrance, "How's my cock gonna fit?"

"Mnnhnngg," you can't make words, looking down beneath the water at where he's fucking you relentlessly, fingers so big and thick compared to yours, his thumb toying with your clit.

"Can't even talk, huh?" he whispers, "Need to come again, I bet."

You don't think you'll be able to, not yet; you're so overstimulated but he just continues to fuck you with abandon, rubbing your clit with every thrust of his fingers. You arch back against him, his cock throbbing against your ass. Your fingers dig into his thighs again and he chuckles in your ear.

"Can't do that, baby," he whispers, "Play with your pretty little nipples for me, show me how hard they are."

You bring your trembling hands to your breasts, squeezing your tender nipples between your fingers and feeling another orgasm start building in your tummy. How? It's so soon since you had your last one, how the fuck can he give you another one so quickly?

He pumps his fingers steadily in and out of you, watching as you play with your nipples. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the skin of your left breast, inches away from where your fingers are pinching.

"Put it in my mouth, pretty girl," he murmurs against the skin, nosing the little bumps and dropping his jaw. You whimper at his words, squeezing your breast and dropping it downward so he can wrap his lips around the sensitive bud. You groan, feeling his tongue dart out and begin to lick tiny circles around it.

Seconds later, you're coming again. You shake and shiver and then go completely still in his arms, eyes rolling back as he continues to suckle at your nipple. He removes his fingers, thumbs your clit one more time, then releases your breast with a light pop.

"Two," he says quietly, smiling at you, "Good girl."

--

Somehow you make it to his bedroom. Exactly how, you're not sure. You're so wrecked from having two orgasms in ten minutes that you feel like jelly, but you're vaguely aware of him picking you up from the bath and carrying you to his room, putting you in his bed. You lay there like a starfish, arms up and legs wide as you breathe heavily, chest heaving.

"So sleepy," he says tenderly, stroking your cheek, "You ready for bed, baby? Wanna stop?"

Your eyes snap open and you shake your head frantically, only to see him standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"I'm kidding," he says with a laugh, "Don't worry."

You roll your eyes and look up at his ceiling, "Ass."

"There she is," he replies warmly, "Missed my feisty girl."

"She never left," you say with a wink, turning to look at him; he's shuffled closer to the bed, standing over you with his cock in his left hand, slowly stroking up and down. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes going straight for the plump and wet head.

"Yeah, you wanna suck it, huh?" he says quietly, thumbing exactly where you want to place your tongue, "Tasted my come twice but never had me in your mouth, how naughty."

You look up at him from under your lashes, smiling playfully, "I'm a good girl, promise."

He smirks, "Are you? Then show me how a good girl sucks cock."

You don't need him to ask you twice. You sit up on the bed and slide forward, watching as he releases his cock and lets it bounce upward toward his stomach, big and thick. You've never been so close to it, never seen it in broad daylight like this; he's huge, so wide and girthy with a big vein trailing along the underside all the way to the head, fat and leaking. With a shiver you lean forward and suck the tip into your mouth, trying not to smile when you hear him release a deep sigh.

"'Atta girl," he groans above you, his hand immediately coming up to cradle the back of your head, "That's my good girl."

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, swallowing down everything he's leaking and then starting to bob your head along the shaft, reaching up to grasp the base firmly in your hand. He tastes like the bath; lavender and vanilla, mixed with a salty and masculine flavor that makes your mouth water.

"Oh, baby," he murmurs, watching as you take his entire length in your mouth with barely any hesitation, the head hitting the back of your throat without even making you gag, "That's it, take the whole fucking thing, just like that."

You're aware of the fact that you don't have a gag reflex; you'd thought about telling him a while ago, thought maybe it'd convince him to let you blow him, but you'd never been brave enough to say anything. Now, you're glad you never did. Hearing his absolute wonder as you take his entire length is more than enough.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, watching as you pull back almost all the way and then push yourself forward again to fully envelop him, the tip repeatedly prodding the inside of your throat, "Jesus fucking Christ."

You swallow around him and look up from underneath your lashes, eyes wide and burning. He looks down at you and immediately slips his cock out of your mouth, taking a step back and putting his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay," he says quickly, hissing through his teeth, "I'm gonna come if you keep goin'. Fuck."

You look at him with faux-innocence, eyes wide, "Did I do something wrong?"

He shakes his head, inhaling deeply and taking another step backward, "You're gonna kill me, baby," he curls his hands into fists, and you swear his cock bobs again completely on its own, like he's about to come without even being touched. The thought makes you shiver, "I know I say that all the time, but I mean it. You're gonna kill me."

You giggle, falling backwards on the bed again and stretching out your arms and legs, closing your eyes and listening as he does a quick pace around the room to distract himself from the orgasm his body is threatening to have. You just laugh and rotate your legs back and forth, feeling an immense amount of pride that you're not the only overly sensitive one in the room.

"You think that's funny, huh?" he asks you, and your eyes snap open to see him kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed.

"N-no," you say, but your smile betrays you. He looks at you darkly and suddenly grabs your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your thighs apart, "Oh," you whimper, looking down at yourself, seeing where he's looking, where you're wet and dripping all over the sheets.

"Messy," he whispers, "Such a messy little pussy."

"It's yours," you tell him, as if he doesn't already know, "It's your little pussy."

"I know, baby," he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, "I've wanted to taste her for so long."

You quiver at his words, brow furrowing as he presses another soft kiss to the opposite thigh. He licks a stripe along the inside, just outside your lips where you're puffy and swollen. He kisses your mound, drags his tongue down and down and down until it swipes lightly against your clit.

"Joel," you moan, throwing your head back and fisting the sheets. He pulls back and you look down again to see him smirking at you, eyes suddenly bright and playful again.

"Tastes like heaven, baby," he says softly, then ducks his head down and pushes his tongue inside you with no warning.

You let out the loudest moan of your life as he begins to eat you out, tongue alternating between twisting and licking your insides and then suckling on your clit like he'd done with your nipple, circling it inside his mouth relentlessly. You writhe beneath him, so much that he has to press his hands firmly against your belly to hold you down.

The noises you're making are practically inhuman, uttering almost a completely different language under your breath as he coaxes more ridiculous sounds out of you. You quickly realize that looking down at him is a mistake; the sight of his greying curls splayed across your pubic bone and the shape of his curved nose pressed into the hair on your mound, his eyes closed in pleasure as he sucks and licks and devours, just the image alone brings you close to the edge.

"I'm gonna come," you manage to squeak out, and he pushes his hands harder against your belly, the added pressure making you groan louder than ever.

He pulls his mouth away.

"No," you breathe, shaking your head wildly with wide eyes, "No, no, no, don't stop. Please don't stop!"

He smirks at you, removing his hands and leaning backward to release you completely from his grip. You stare at him, completely bewildered.

"Joel," you cry, real tears starting to form in your eyes, but not from sadness or anger - this time, you're just horny. "Joel, why?"

He still doesn't speak, just sits there and watches you groan in disbelief, your hands coming up to cover your face. You buck your hips into the air, seeking some kind of pressure, but nothing helps.

"Joel," you repeat, "This is mean."

"I told you I was gonna punish you, baby," he says it with faux-disappointment, like he's not the one who makes the rules, "I'm the one who decides when you come. And what I just did is exactly what you just did to me."

You pout, sitting up on your hands and giving him a dirty look, "That's not fair, you told me to stop, I would've kept going."

"But if you'd kept going, how would I have been able to do this?" he asks, and suddenly he's standing up and leaning over you on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he hovers above you.

"W-what?" you ask, but you know the answer as soon as you feel the wet head of his cock gently prod your entrance.

"This, baby," he murmurs, and pushes himself all the way inside.

You almost let out a scream, squeezing his sheets in your hands as his huge cock practically rearranges your guts, feeling him in your stomach as he reaches his hands up to entwine his fingers with yours, plying them away from the sheets.

"Oh, she wasn't ready, was she?" he asks quietly, nosing your neck and smiling at the incoherent noises coming from your throat, "Poor little pussy, never had something so big inside of her, huh?"

He stays still inside of you, letting you get used to his wide girth and thick length, so large within you that you feel like you're going to burst. You continue to make odd noises, twitching under his grasp, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that you're coming. You're coming, just from having his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

"Three," he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, "That's three times now, baby. Such a good girl for me."

Your pussy pulses and throbs around him, aching and burning in the most perfect way. How does he know exactly what you need? How does he know exactly what'll get you there?

"You're okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair gently as you convulse around him, "You're doing so well, takin' it all so good."

You've never felt so full in your life. You've only ever had sex a handful of times, only ever actually been with two other men. If you had to compare them to this, you'd laugh in their faces.

"Big," you finally find your words, barely a whisper, "So big."

"I know," Joel kisses your temple, pulls back to look down at you with a gentle smile, "I'll wait 'til you get used to it, don't worry."

It's only then, looking up into those big brown eyes, that you realize you still haven't kissed him. He's got his enormous cock inside of you, stretching every inch of you open, and you've never kissed him.

It's like he's suddenly thinking the exact same thing. You watch as his brow furrows, lips parting slightly as he leans down and presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes closing as you kiss him back with a hunger you've never known. You slip your tongue inside his mouth and he grants you entrance immediately, breathing deeply against your face as he sucks you in, lets you taste him. You can taste your own wetness on his tongue and it makes you moan against his lips.

"You're so fucking perfect," he breathes against your mouth, closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against yours, "My perfect girl, always so good for me."

"I'm yours," you remind him, voice weak and shaky, "I'll do whatever you tell me to, Joel."

He inhales deeply, removing his hands from yours and trailing them down your body to hold you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your torso and trailing his fingers up and down your back.

"You can move now," you whisper, still pulsing around him, "I can take it."

"I know you can, baby," he murmurs, "Such a good girl."

It takes a few slow thrusts, your mouth still eliciting the most unhinged sounds as he fucks you at the slowest pace imaginable, but eventually you build up a rhythm. He's so big, it's hard to believe he's actually fitting inside of you. You'd only ever seen his cock from a distance, in darkness, never realized how fucking huge he was. You can't believe you'd even managed to fit all of him in your mouth.

"I'm close," you groan in his ear, your own hands coming up to grip his back tightly, loving the feeling of having him pressed so close to you as he fucks you, "Give me my fourth, Joel, fucking give it to me."

He laughs lightly in response, pulling back to look down at you, "Not much of a punishment anymore, is it?" he says with a smirk, shaking his head, "Now you're begging for it." He slows down his thrusts, eventually stilling inside of you and pulling almost all the way out, letting the head of his cock sit inside your pulsing hole.

"Look at that," he says softly and you sit up to follow his gaze, looking down at your already fucked-out hole, his cock only connected to it via the fat head that sits nestled at your entrance, "Look at all your come on my cock, pretty girl."

You notice the white and glistening spots along his cock, feeling your cheeks go red at the recognition that it's all from you. You bite your lip, chest heaving breathlessly as he carefully pulls the tip from your hole and places it against your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, watching as he gently rubs the head in circles on your clit, his tip continuing to leak and making you even more slippery than you already are.

"Here's number four for you, baby," he murmurs, and pulls back his cock to lightly slap the head against you, the pressure immediately making you moan. He slaps it again, a little harder, and you have to bite down on your lip again to stop the onslaught of little whines you're threatening to make.

"Come," he says firmly, deliberately an order, and slaps the head of his cock against your clit one last time, delivering the final push.

Your eyes roll back again and you fall back on the bed, body twitching as you come for the fourth time, feeling his eyes on your pussy as your hole pulses and throbs around nothing.

"Good girl," he whispers, and seconds later you feel his cock slide back inside of you, exactly where it belongs, "There you go."

You lay there completely limp for a few seconds, body only moving with the thrusts of Joel's steady pace. You finally open your eyes again, see him kneeling on the bed above you. He's holding your lower half upwards, hands digging into your hips and thumbs splayed across your tummy.

"Use me," you breathe, eyes closing again, "Just use me for a few minutes."

He groans, a guttural and fierce noise that rips through the silence of his bedroom. You relax completely, melting into the sheets and letting him take what he needs, take and take and take, using you like his personal fuck toy, something you'd only dreamed about and never thought would ever actually come to fruition. Your arms hang limp and loose off the edge of his bed as you inhale and exhale, trying to get your energy back as fast as possible so you can come again.

Because you know he's not gonna let you off at number four.

After a few more steady thrusts you slowly sit back up on your elbows, looking at him through hooded and tired eyes. He can see that you're close to being completely done, smiles gently at you and slows his rhythm.

"Welcome back," he says softly, leaning down to pull you up so you're level with him. He repositions the both of you so his legs are circling you, yours coming up to wrap around his lower back as you sit on his cock. He pulls you closer, cradling the back of your head and pressing kisses along the side of your face, "I know you're tired but I'm gonna give you one more, baby, just like I promised."

"I know," you whisper, voice shaky.

He holds you in his wide arms, completely envelops you as he fucks up into you steadily, nose and lips pressed against the side of your face as he brings himself closer and closer to release, continuously whispering a thread of dirty things to you, building you up.

"Such a tight fuckin' pussy, all for me," he murmurs, "So wet and pink and perfect, takin' me so good, so fuckin' full of cock."

"Joel," you whimper, leaning further against him and letting him fuck you mercilessly, letting him push you closer and closer to your fifth orgasm, "Keep talking."

"Okay, baby," he whispers, brow furrowed, "Okay, pretty girl. So fuckin' good to me, so fuckin' pure and perfect, lettin' me fill this little cunt, lettin' me fuck it so deep," you scratch at his arm, tension building in your belly, "Waited so long for me to give it to you, begged for it for months, and now you have it. It's all yours, baby. You get this cock whenever you want now, just say the word."

He reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling you tense against him as your orgasm overtakes you. You shake in his embrace, moaning out his name one final time before you start to come, heart pounding and chest heaving as he releases your clit and hugs you close to him. You tremble beneath him, feeling completely spent, almost boneless in his lap as he keeps fucking you.

"Where do you want my come, pretty girl?" he asks you through clenched teeth, "You still want it in your mouth?"

"Yes," you say immediately, eyes widening, "In my mouth, please."

Without another word he pulls you from his lap, watching as you fall backwards on the bed weightlessly.

"Christ, I fucked the shit outta you, baby," he says, genuinely shocked at how blissed out you are.

"You did," you reply softly, feeling a smile cross your face, "Can't move anymore."

He gives you a gentle smile, walks around the bed and aims his cock toward your face, "Here's your reward, baby, open up, nice and wide."

You do as you're told, feeling an immense amount of pride and satisfaction as you finally get what you've been craving for months. He strokes his cock once, only once, and suddenly ropes of thick white come are painting your tongue and lips, your cheeks, your chin. He groans, long and low, watching as you close your eyes and take every drop he gives you, watching it all pool on your tongue, dribble down your chin.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you open your eyes again to see him staring at you, eyes still dark and pupils blown wide, "Swallow it, pretty girl."

You close your mouth and swallow all of it, reveling in the salty taste on your tongue and in the back of your throat. You bring a trembling hand to your mouth, push the leftovers from your cheeks and chin past your lips, swallowing a second time.

"Good girl," he whispers, leaning down to push your hair out of your eyes, "That's my good girl, did so fucking well for me. Did everything I said."

"I'm yours, Joel," you whisper, voice completely wrecked, "I'm your good girl."

--

He cleans you up tenderly, pressing kisses to your skin every now and then as he takes a warm washcloth and wipes you down, pays extra attention to your sensitive spots and lets you lay there in peace. He's so sweet, so gentle, you'd hardly know it was the same Joel who walked out on you back at the ski lodge.

But it is the same Joel. He's just finally let himself have what he wants, finally let himself give you what you want. When he climbs in bed beside you and wraps his arms tightly around you, you've never felt so desired in your entire life. He kisses your face all over, whispers praises, tells you how beautiful you are, makes you feel wanted.

"You asleep?" he asks you softly, hands running up and down your arms soothingly.

"In and out," you murmur back, "You really did a number on me."

He chuckles quietly, kisses your cheek and holds you tighter, "I know. It was okay, right? I didn't go too far?"

"It was perfect," you reply sincerely, leaning back into his touch, "It was everything I ever wanted, better than anything I imagined."

He smiles against your skin, "Good, I'm glad."

You both lay there in the silence of his bedroom for a few more moments, listening to each other's breathing. He kisses the back of your neck, noses your skin and inhales your scent.

"Are you still afraid?" you ask quietly, "You can tell me, I want you to be honest."

He takes a few moments to reply, sighing deeply and bringing one of his hands down to hold tightly to yours. You squeeze his back, quietly reminding him that you're here, that you're not going anywhere.

"I am," he says softly, voice barely a whisper, "But not so much anymore. I think it'll be easier now."

"It will be," you reassure him quietly, tightening your grip on his hand, "I'm here for you, okay? Every step of the way."

He nuzzles into your hair, presses himself against you and sighs contentedly, "Okay."

You close your eyes, focusing on the perfection of this moment, the feeling of his body so close to yours, warming you up and keeping you safe. You can't help but notice how perfectly your bodies fit together, how right it feels to be lying together like this.

"By the way," he whispers suddenly, "You'll be my patrol partner again, right?"

You grin, tilting your head back slightly so his cheek brushes against your temple, relishing in the feeling of his stubble against your skin, so natural, so easy.

"I thought you'd never ask."

i can't believe how long this took me to write but i'm so glad i finally finished it. this isn't the end of soft!dom joel, but i would consider it the end of their story, most likely. i'll probably write some more smutty one-shots for them, but i doubt i'll write anything for them again with this much detail. i feel pretty satisfied with this.

let me know what you think!!! i love hearing yalls feedback, it makes me so happy. i also have a kofi if you'd like to leave me a tip. thank you so much for reading 💖

[thankskenpenders]

Today we got some news regarding a big change for the Ian Flynn's Q&A podcast, the BumbleKast. As outlined in a blog post by Ian, starting in 2025, all Sonic-related questions submitted to the show will first need to be screened by Sega. (I have to assume this is also why Ian announced they'll no longer be doing live Q&As starting next year.)

Frankly, I can't say this is particularly surprising.

While the BumbleKast is ostensibly a podcast about Ian's work as a freelance writer for all sorts of things, and also just a place for him to shoot the shit about stuff he likes, he's still predominantly seen as The Sonic Guy. Sure, he also does a bunch of other freelance work for other series, and original comics like Drogune, and he's also the narrative mastermind for the whole Rivals of Aether franchise these days, but it's his insights into what goes on behind the scenes with Sonic that people really care about. Your average Sonic fan can't just go up to Iizuka or whoever and ask him a question about the current state of the lore, but Ian's inbox is always open.

Because of this, I've thought a lot about the BumbleKast's place in the fandom and The Discourse in recent years. Ian wants to be as open and honest as he can about his work, and I think that's admirable. To me, hearing about creators' struggles and the shit they go through just to get a story out the door tends to make me sympathize with them more. Sometimes a story just doesn't turn out as well as you'd hoped, but you're on a tight deadline and all you can do is move on to the next project. I've even softened a bit on Penders over the years as he's shared more about the absurd situations and odd creative demands made behind the scenes at Archie. Unfortunately, not everyone has that mindset.

Ian's basically always had obsessive haters who were eager to take everything he says out of context to try and stir up shit, but that used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie comics. Most of the fandom didn't give a shit about what Ian was doing with Sonic and Sally's love life or whatever. Most of the fandom wasn't even reading those comics. But Ian's gone from being a writer for a non-canon spinoff comic, to being the initial lead writer for the first ever canon Sonic comic series, to being the new main writer for the games themselves as part of the official Sonic Lore Team. Way more Sonic fans care about his work now, and when he's so open about his work that makes him an easy scapegoat.

It feels like damn near every week on Twitter Ian's personal trolls have posted yet another BumbleKast clip out of context to rile up the fandom and make it look like he has no idea what he's talking about or like he has some kind of agenda. And, unfortunately, people often fall for this. Of course, it also goes the other way, with people more sympathetic towards Ian taking things he says about Sega and framing them as proof that Sega has no idea what they're doing with the brand. Which, well, let's be real, isn't always the most unreasonable thing to think, given Sonic's rocky history. But I'm surprised it took this long for Sega to start paying more attention to what gets said on the BumbleKast when fans use it so regularly as a source of drama.

I've also often felt that they just need to be WAY more selective about what messages they respond to on the show. Questions Ian can't actually answer due to NDAs, questions that are borderline incomprehensible, "questions" that are really just fan ideas. And the haters, oh, the haters. Ian does not need to put up with angry rants about how he should make SonAmy canon or what the fuck ever. Even if Ian's willing to put up with it, as a listener it can make the show just super unpleasant at times when someone aggressive pops up with an inflammatory question. There have been entire BumbleKast Mini episodes I had to skip because they were just obsessive critics of Ian's paying to grill him on a dozen different things and treat him like an idiot.

But at the same time, I get why the show got to be this way. It's become a part-time job for Ian with multiple new episode a week. Given how piss poor the pay tends to be for freelance writers, I can't really blame him for wanting to keep this secondary stream of income open, and to not have to refund people left and right for rejecting their questions. The man's got bills to pay. (And so does Kyle, for whom managing the BumbleKast seems to have become a full-time job.)

I dunno. The man's got the patience of a fucking saint. I would've quit the franchise if I was in his shoes, with people wishing he would die for shit like minor disagreements over Sonic's characterization or him misremembering an obscure old lore thing. While I do hope that Sega doesn't keep too tight of a leash on him moving forward, and I hope that he's still able to speak his mind about his work, part of me also hopes that having to be much more selective about Sonic questions results in less bullshit like this.

[yuvany]

CHRITSMAS TREE SHOPPING // ENHYPEN

OT7 ENHYPEN x f !reader contains : est relationship + not ptoofread // no cw !! 𝐰𝐜: 1.2k

─── ( on point ) this is promt nr.12 for @cupidhoons seaon of romance event !! such a fun idea and I enjoyed writing this a lot.

NOTE : finally back and posting... enjoy ? I hope

reblogs are always appreciated !!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

going shopping with him sometimes felt more like a task, especially when it was time for holidays. Heeseung becomes competative and fierce because if he really wants something, he'll fight for it - even when you're his girlfriend. On the walk over to the christmas tree market, you could feel the intensity radiating off him, and you start to get worried, because well, it's only a tree, right? Wrong. "What tree do you wanna get?" You ask your boyfriend who was holding your hand in his that was cosily in his pocket. "I really want a classic green, and you, babe?" He asked, and you felt his eyes on you. "I wanna try white one this year!" Upon hearing that, Heeseung purses his lips. "White?" "yes! have you not seen those pinterest posts?" At this point, the two of you have stopped walking, and were blocking the way, going back and forth on what colour was the best. "Will you agree if I give you a kiss?" you say at least, and he replies, "One won't be enough. How about a hundred more, mm?"

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Jay doesn't seem like the type to be very picky when it comes to choosing stuff, he only wanted to know what you were interested in. "Have any plans for Christmas?" He asked you, walking beside you on the side walk that hardly looked any different from the road where cars drove by, their window swipers shoving the snow away from the glass. "Actually, no idea." Jay sweats, because what are two clueless lovers supposed to do in a market? "What do you think?" You asked your boyfriend, He clears his throat and pullls out his phone. This motivates you to continue picking on him the whole walk there. "I don't know either, babe." He admits at last. "We gotta YOLO it I suppose, let's hurry, I wanna look at the trees!" You say and pull him behind you. Even though you didn't know what you wanted to buy, you somehow knew what you did not like. "This one is pretty." Jay said, pointing at a dark green coloured one. "we for sure have different tastes." You comment with a scowl.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

Jake wants to find the perfect christmas tree, a tree where he can place all the presents he had bought for you. The market was filled with trees ranging of different heights and colours, you did not really care what tree you guys would carry home at the end of the day, but Jake was running around the place with you on his tail. "babe, calm down!" You call out, your legs almost giving up on you. "Hurry! look at that one!" He says, stopping only to tell you to keep up with him. You heave a sigh and stomp your feet, frustrated. "c'mon..." Jake moops, his palms on your shoulders. "Just pick a tree, you're not an expert." You groan, and Jake shakes his head. "But we need to find the perfect tree. I'm not leaving until we find the one." "Just pick any one, the decorations will make the tree pretty." You argue, your head finding his chest as exhaustion catches up to you.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

It's been hours of walking around the place, and the both of you could not agree on one tree that the both of you found pretty. At first he said he didn't care, but gradually he revealed his real demeanour. "But you said I could pick whichever one!" You whine, and Sunghoon shoves his hands into his pockets cluelessly. "What do you mean, sweetie? I did not say that." Sunghoon lied. You shake your head at his words, feeling betrayed by the one you thought you could trust the most. "It's just a tree, hoonie, and you can't take back a promise. We pinky promised." Sunghoon remembers this vividly and winces as he tries to make an excuse, but he can't find one that'll satisfy the both of you. "Sure, go ahead. I did promise you, lovely." He walks towards you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Do you really want this brown, poop-coloured tree?" "I was actualy joking with you." You admit.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Sunoo is a perfectionist, but he also loves you. You had walked up to a classic tree that had that traditional musky colour, the scent of freshly cut wood and the aroma of chirstmas making its way through the market. Something classic could never go wrong, right? That's what you thought at least until you look over your shoulder to get Sunoo's opinion. Upon the sight of his raised eyebrow, crossed arms as he tapped his boot against the thinly covered ground, you start to second guess. "Babe, what do you think of this?" You ask with hesitation. He lets out a hum, "It's alright, I suppose." You shurg his reaction off, and turn to look to the next tree due to his reaction. He sees this, and gets ahold of your shoulder. "Why did you continue looking? Didn't you want this one?" He asks, and you shrug. "I mean, it didn't seem like you liked it." You explained. "I mean, as long as I get to decorate it, I'm fine with anything." Sunoo reassures, and you chuckle.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

He could not care less about what tree would be carried home that eveing, he just wanted to tease you. Whenever you suggested a tree, he'd turn down the option. It came to the point where you were pointing at every christmas tree that you passed and he'd still shake his head.Your legs began to get tired and you stood in place in front of a classic short tree and pointed at it. "What about this one then?" You asked him with an eyebrow cocked upwards. Jungwon had his fingers around his chin as he was mocking a stance deep in thought. "Are you sure about this one?" He asked. "Goodness, this is the last one in this place and the one you haven't said no to. Go pick one for yourself." You sighed and Jungwon combed his hair back upon seeing your tired state. "babe, I was just teasing, get whichever one you want and decoration, and I'll pay." He offers with a hand cupping your cheek.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

"What do you think of this one?" you asked, trying to find at least one tree that the two of you could agree on. "Can't you see that it has too many branches?" Riki judges, and you can't believe how childish he is being. "That one is the perfect one," he continues, pointing at a tree in the distance. "Are you really sure, because I find that it is very ugly. no offence." You sass, looking at the too tall tree. You feel his sharp gaze judge you, but you only giggle at this, knowing you managed to tick him off. "So... what do you wanna do?" You asked him, nudging your shoulder with his. "Obviously that tree." Riki looks over at the one he was insisiting on bringing home. "Lets settle this with rock paper scissor." You challenged him, and he eagerly nodded. "Rock, paper scissor..." He counted down, and you played a paper, and he did a scissor, resulting in his victory. "You were just lucky this time." You sulk.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa @pshwrldd

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

j word coded

TO BE CLEAR: I am NOT claiming that this other game (Ikemen Villains) is a "rip-off" of TWST; I'm pointing out parallels between them because I think it's entertaining to see how different games interpret the same or similar fairy tales.

Please also note that although nothing I say in this post is explicit, IkeVil itself is designated as 17+ and contains dark content. If you decide you want to try the game out for yourself, BE AWARE OF THE AGE RATING AND TRIGGER WARNINGS.

ARE THESE NOT JUST J WORD IN A BLACK WIG AND CONTACTS (the last one looks like a blend of Jade's sus face + Idia's sus face) 😭 His face looks so similar… and they're both "attendant" characters that act polite but are more manipulative than they appear at first glance... (although Alfons has Floyd's hedonism rather that Jade's restraint!)

More of my first impressions of the characters of IkeVil below the cut!! Again, there's nothing explicit, I just wanted to keep this post not too bulky.

And not just him (Alfons) either, ashldbiasydefpaei there's a Trey-lookalike and a Silver pre-hair color change in the same game! Roger has a rifle and is cursed by Snow White's huntsman, so I joke that he's Rook and Trey's test tube baby... and Elbert has Vil's keen eye and desire for what is beautiful!

There are also characters that don't look like an TWST ones, but definitely have personalities that remind me of a few! For example, Liam's laid-back affability is Che'nya and Chenya Cater-esque, Jude speaks in a gruff but aristocratic manner like Leona but is a tough businessman like Azul, and Ellis seems like a mix of Malleus's obsession with happy endings + Idia's gloomy demeanor…? No clue if he actually is gloomy or not, he just gives me gloomy vibes.

Victor is Crowley-adjacent! Like they're both overseeing this group of powerful men with magic so you'd think they're serious types--but they aren't. They're silly and use their own skills to do frivolous things like doing magic tricks or making cake fancier. They also both seem to be hiding a secret...

Harrison doesn't remind me of anyone in particular, though I do see little bits of our typical "lying" characters in him. He has the chill of a Che'nya but also Floyd's flippancy and lies as easily as like... I don't know, Cater?? Not sure on this one.

abfhbyoafvadpiadgo OKAY OKAY BUT THE FUNNIEST ONE TO ME IS WILLIAM BECAUSE HE'S "THE QUEEN OF HEARTS" CHARACTER... Most of the time when you have a character with this inspiration, they're controlling and easily angered (*stares at Riddle*), but William is NOTHING like that???? In fact, he's got a strong sense of justice and often encourages others to be honest and to act freely, even if it means disregarding the rules. Every time William opens his mouth... I picture Riddle shrieking and sobbing/j

[kenlvry]

LISTEN TO ME RN HEAT ME TF OUT STANS GANG + CRAIG DOIGN THE LIPSTICK TREND FROM TICTOK WITH READER

the lipstick trend with stan and craigs team

an, I AM LISTENLING ANON DONT WORRY. no idea what you mean by heat out though 🤨 , 17-18 and gn reader but use of her in tolkiens

kenny

he was the one who suggested it, it came across his fyp one day and he sent it to you "lets do this come over rn." "you asked, why dont you come to my house? 🤨" "why don't i cum in your mom" "HUH 😧" "im here."

you both definitely argue on what lipstick you should wear "okay but i don't even use pink lipstick" "well you should" "its light colour its not gonna appear" "well fuck 😒"

the process of kissing his face is wild, he would suggest to do his lips as the first place "KENNY HOW ARE WE GONNA DO THIS TREND IF YOU KEEP TRYING TO MAKE OUT WITH ME" "ITS NOT MY FAULT"

after like2 hours you finally get the lipstick on his face. now the tiktok was even harder he wouldn't stop laughing. you'd give up and he apologises while laughing

thank god you guys were able to finish it under 1 hour it turned out really good, at the end of the video he kissed you and you wanted to cut that part but he said keep it for like and its true the comments were all about the kiss on the last clip

kyle

okay he too wanted to ask you first but he was kinda shy and waited for you to ask and you did!! woohoo for kyle

"kyle wanna do this" "OKAY" he insists on picking your lipstick and picks the ugliest colour like what 😐

to him there was no such thing as an ugly colour buy it didn't suit your face so no way.

the process of it was calm, he at first wanted to put on the lipstick for you but you looked like a clown has mans never put on lipstick??

he watches you as you kiss him and reapply lipstick and then kiss him again, he feels like a princess fr 🤭🤭

he hasn't seen his face yet so when you record and he saw his face he laughs out loud, "LMAO WHY DO I LIKE THAT??" "WDYM"

you would tell him to take off his hat which he refuses but you looked too cute, when it posted cartman was first to comment and you can already tell what he commented "ew gay" your followers defended you two though 🤭

stan

stan blushes internally when you ask him. "sure im down" DEEP DOWN HE WANTS KIDNAP YOY AND KEEP YOU TO HIMSELF

"what lipstick do you think matches me best, pink or red?" "id say my tip colour" "WHAT 😧"

he has to hold in the very urge to puke every time you kiss him because like you look so cute omg.

he looks in the mirror and is js like "damn, i did it". HE LOVES IT SOOOO MUCH YOU CAN TELL HE'S BLUSHING ONGG ‼️

he even directs you like "do here next, okay now here" its so cute 🤭🤭

when you record and the camera pans to him, he smiles and covers his face blushing bc he can't contain it. it was such a cute video and got iver 2 mil likes. cartman definitely commented "i bet you had to change your clothes 10 times"

cartman

"cartman lets do this" "what." "wdym? cmon its cute" "y/n no offense but that is the most gayest shit i've ever seen" " NO ITS NOT UTS CUTE" "my reputation is at stake if i do that be so for real" "okay I'm asking kyle then" "lets do it."

he actually been wanting to ask you for weeks now but doesn't know how so winwin. you take your absolute time picking your lipstick and he couldn't be more done with "hurry up this doesn't even effect anything" "shut up cartman if i use the right one people will ask what lipstick it is and i get views"

picking a lipstick was already a big deal just imagine the process "ew gay not on my lips" "cartman 😐" tbh he wish he could just make out with you rn but yk how mans is

now recording is even more a hassle "JUST SMILE IS IT SO HARD TO CRACK A SMILE" "NOT WHILE IM LOOKING LIKE THIS" the most he does is wipes your lipstick off and then he just gives a 🙄 look until the end of the video

the comments are just him getting teased at clydes commenting "NAHHH CAN'T BELIEVE HE AGREED TO THIS" kyles is "i can tell that this took a long time" and then wendys is "is that cartman or a clone of him". cartman is pissed af at the comment, he told you his reputation is at stake 😒.

he actually has it saved downloaded and also is his live wallpaper sooo.

butters

butters is the one who asked you this " um y/n can we do this? 😣" while twiddling his fingers, "OKAY"

he's all giddy and smily during the process, after every kiss his blushes intensifies and by the end of it he is just.. 🔴

even though it is the most simplest video ever he has to have a tutorial, he is asking questions for everything man, how do i wipe the lipstick, what do i do, do i smile when its on me , do i laugh??

you tell him what he thinks he should he and he starts kissing you bc rn the sexual tension between you two is intense (to him atleast, he thinks thinks hand holding is already intense)

everyone comments on how cute he is and yk how tiktok is so people comment "does he whimper" "submissive who?" and hes likw WHATTTTT 🧍

clyde

when you suggested this he nodded so hard his head probably was about to fall off. "clyde you wanna do this" "DO I???" ..... "well.. do you?" "i mean yeah it's like a way of- yes i wanna do it"

he loves any lipstick you wear so he lets you pick. after every kiss he looks in the mirror and kicks his feet giggling and you just stand there 🤨

he also tries to make it a makeout session like kenny, when you kissed on his lips he holds your neck and literally makes out with like cnon we have 9 more

when you first hit record and yk how the guy has to wipe your lipstick off, nah he grabbed you by the chin and slams his lips with yours "WHY DIS YOU DO THAT??" "its called content,you wouldn't know with your 9 likes and 70 views"

well you kept the clip and everyone in the comments were talking about it "need a boyfriend like you y/n" "why can't my boyfriend be like this" clyde is obviously gloating bc he had the idea.

tolkien

most romantic man you know, is the first to ask you. "y/n can we do this?" "OKAY BOO 😝"

"hmm which lipstick do you think babe?" "i think every lipstick makes you pretty, it doesn't matter if it doesn't suit you because in my eyes you look beautiful in anything ☺️" "what if i wore kim kardashians 2013 met gala dress" "might have to rethink what i said"

he smiles while you kiss him here and there, every once a while he kisses you back, it was such a cute moment for you two😝🤞🤞

when recording he looks at you while smiling during the whole video and it blew up fast because of that

"the way he looks at her" "wishing he was like this" "you got the bag that man is inlove", it blew in seconds fr

craig

"craig lets do-" "okay" "i didnt even ask you yet" "I'll do anything if its with you" "what if i asked you to have a threesome" ".....if its makes you happy idk.."

idk about you but i think he acts like he doesn't care but inside he is so happy you asked he's been wanting to ask you this but doesn't know how to start up the convo

he doesn't care what lipstick or where you kiss him, its just the way you press your lips on him and look at it then quickly reapply to do it again because it wasn't pigmented enough.

when recorded, he doesn't just wipe he makes you turn to face him by grabbing your chin, and he doesn't let go and just looks at you with those yk siren eyes.

people are simping over him ong "damn girlie share for us" "you mean OUR boyfriend" "tryna find someone as hot as him" and you are pissed fr he laughs at you cursing out the people, like bae dw my eyes only fo you 😝🤞

tweek

"tweek, wanna do this?" "but what if I can't remove the lipstick stain" "tweek what dw i have makeup remover" "WHAT IF THAT DOESN'T WORK 🤯🤯" "TWEEK"

okay so the lipstick may turn out ugly bc of how shaky he is but ITS OKAY BC ITS TWEEK DUH, "a-are you sure you dont want to redo this?" "tweek its fine"

he insists on redoing it the 2nd try turns our worse because he's even more twitchy because of how close you are☺️☺️☺️

his face is just red because he keeps wiping it off with his hands so you can redo it and its obvious too

recording it was so funny because you can't stop laughing at the smudge lipsticks

when posted the comments were so cute but... uh questionable some were "the way the smudges are so obvious 😭😭❤️" or "wishing my future relationship will be like this 🤭" and some were just "tip colour when?? 😜"

[velvees-archive]

Some post-SOJ DLC case thoughts about Edgeworth, his opinion on marriage, and by extension, love.

…and how, at the very center of this discussion is one Phoenix Wright.

Contains spoilers from 3-5, 6-5 and 6-DLC

As if the subtext wasn’t enough.

I wanted to share some thoughts about the DLC case and Edgeworth's insistence on remaining unwed, which, from what I've seen, is a commonly employed gotcha moment against NaruMitsu (because all relationships must end in marriage, right? /lh). Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really mind. I just…didn’t find the dialogue exchange very damning.

Coming off 6-5, where Edgeworth says this,

I saw the DLC as an extension of Edgeworth's sentimentality, this time directed at Phoenix’s romantic prospects.

To make my stance clear, I don’t think Edgeworth is blind to romantic overtures; he just doesn’t care about them very much. As in, Edgeworth is largely unaffected by and uninterested in matters of the heart (with a concession that he is obtuse when it comes to people expressing interest in him, unless they're Wendy Oldbag over the top about it). But even if you feel he's terrible at sensing romantic tension, my argument still stands. Edgeworth doesn’t care about romance, and we never really see him prying into anyone’s romantic relationships…

…with the exception to this being Phoenix Wright’s.

From Bridge to the Turnabout:

Sorry for the janky screenshots. I didn't didn't take 3-5 pics on my Switch so I had to search for YouTube clips. Let the record show I actually really enjoy Feenris PLUS I love angst, so this interaction was…chef’s kiss.

Assuming Edgeworth doesn't care about romance but he can understand romantic signaling, this is already pretty condemning. Why are you poking around Phoenix's business if you're so uninterested in love? Surely, there are bigger fish to fry, like investigating the Inner Temple Garden because the clues found could be vital to catching the victim's murderer?

Assuming Edgeworth sucks at detecting any romantic undertones, the implications are even worse. You're telling me the guy who doesn't know the first thing about romance somehow clocked Phoenix and Iris's chemistry this quickly? How? For what reason were you able to catch it? How attuned are you to Phoenix's personal affairs?

Now, shifting back to the DLC case, we have this lovely interaction when you show Miles the wedding chapel pamphlet:

Something to note with Phoenix’s “W-Wait. You’re not thinking about finally settling down and getting married, are you?” is that the screen flashes and we hear the damage sound after the “W-Wait."

Once again, Miles inquires about Phoenix's love life, this time after Phoenix asks about his. I've analyzed my fair share of Miles Edgeworth dialogue, and I don't think he pingpongs questions just to make conversation (see: “Say something, Wright. I’m not good at small talk.”). This leads me to believe he was genuinely curious and (subtly) trying to fish for information. And why would that be the case?

My overarching point is this: Edgeworth isn’t as obtuse about romance as everyone makes him out to be (both in-universe and from a fandom perspective), which makes his mentioning marriage plans around Phoenix even more suspicious. The way the scene reads to me is that Edgeworth, in Phoenix’s company and swept away by the intimate atmosphere, lets his interest in Phoenix Wright slip through the cracks once Phoenix shows him the pamphlet. It's sentimental of him and it surfaces—once again—while he's investigating a case. At risk of sounding repetitive, there are bigger fish to fry.

It'd be less suspicious if Phoenix had similar conversations with other cast members he shows the pamphlet to, but it never gets to be this personal, even when he presents it to Maya, his best friend.

Good news if you feel otherwise about my “Edgeworth isn’t that obtuse” headcanon though, because should you believe he is actually just that clueless, you now have to contend with this:

If Miles can’t pick up on all things love, why is he so attuned to Wright’s (and to my knowledge, only Wright’s) romantic prospects in particular?

So yeah. Checkmate, I guess. Edgeworth might not be interested in marriage or love, but he’s definitely interested in Phoenix’s partners, or lack thereof. Take that how you will.

[duelacadatoolshed]

it's a bitch convincing people to like you {Evan/Reader/HABIT}

Part 1/4

{ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 }

Summary: You really, really love your boyfriend, but you also really wish he'd told you he was occasionally, and very literally, possessed by the most irritating murder-goblin you could ever imagine before HABIT woke you up instead of Evan one morning. Except how would he have even started that conversation?

Warnings: violence, brief graphic imagery (like a sentence, courtesy of HABIT, naturally), knives, implied HABIT cruelty & behaviour. Unedited.

A/N: emhposting in 2024. based on this post if U wanna see the full fic concept. I have like 4 chapters locked and loaded but I can't promise anything beyond that. Future chapters do contain darker themes and sexual content. but I love writing HABIT and I like his dynamic with the reader here. like it if you like it, or comment, or anything. Print it out and eat it. If you hated it send it to your enemies.

The only thing worse than enduring HABIT was the thought of letting Evan suffer him alone. That's what you'd remind yourself when it's the middle of the night and your Advil is wearing off and the wounds along your body have started to ache again. Evan was sleeping soundly next to you, arm across you, holding you tightly, which he tends to do now more than he doesn't on the nights that he's home. Sometimes you wonder how the hell he even gets to sleep; you know he's not faking it because he always wakes up screaming. Still, you prefer those nights to the ones where HABIT wakes instead. That was how you'd meet him that first night.

The feeling of nails digging into your side wakes you.

"You're new," you hear the incredulous, raspy voice of what you think is your boyfriend, and you try to shove his hand away, mumbling that that hurt. Like a lightning flash, however, your hands were pinned to the bed either side of your head, as the creature wearing your boyfriend's face straddles your hips. But you don't notice the malevolent grin, nor the cruel glint of intrigue in his eyes, still waking up. You actually were a little excited by this unexpected show of dominance, and couldn't help the sleepy, flirty grin that spread across your lips.

"Oh, it's like that?" You purred, hips shifting beneath him, "good morning."

For a moment he seems caught up in you, then he looks around.

"Where the fuck are we?"

"Evan," you start to grow more confused, watching him, noticing more and more how out of character he was behaving, "we're at my place, remember?" He looks around again, slower this time, then back at you. There's no missing the malevolence in his eyes this time. This time, when you whisper his name with concern, he grins.

"Not quite."

He calls himself Evan's worse half. He calls himself HABIT. He calls you Little Rabbit with a dark grin.

HABIT talks more than he doesn't. That first night he paces your room, tearing things apart looking for some sort of weapon even as you insist you don't have -

"Not even a box cutter for arts and fuckin' crafts? What the fuck is wrong with you, don't you have a fucking hobby?" He bites out, and you, still utterly confused and now downright terrified, tremble in the corner of your bed. He bemoans not being able to stay and have fun, says he's got a schedule to keep, but before he leaves, he approaches you. When your foot lashes out, kicks him, he snags your ankle. His grip is so fucking strong, so tight; your lip wobbles, there's tears in your eyes.

"I'm gonna go, because I'm a busy man, but I promise you - I promise," and he grabs your chin forcefully, making sure you're looking him in the eyes when you start to cry, "I'll be back for you." He watches the first of the tears trail down your cheeks, looking almost hungry as he does so, "I can see why he likes you," he muses, "fuckin' soft little rabbit," he wets his lips, and you squeeze your eyes shut, quietly asking why this is happening, but all he does is laugh, "I'm gonna have fun with you." But it makes your blood turn to ice in your veins.

This wasn't normal, this wasn't the man you'd been falling for in these past few months, this wasn't a side of him you'd seen before, or even felt he was capable of having. Part of you thinks you should break up with him, terrified of what this could all mean, what he could be capable of, but another part has begun to love him, and wants answers.

It takes a bit of online investigation, but soon you come across EverymanHYBRID and The Seven Trials of HABIT. Things... start to make a lot more sense after that. Days later, there's a banging at your apartment door in the dead of night. You know it's not your boyfriend, not really.

"Go away, HABIT," you tried feebly, yawning. He shouts that he'll make a scene if he has to, and it'll be all your fault. If your research proved anything it was that HABIT making a scene usually ended with bloodshed. You didn't want that on your conscience.

You open the door. HABIT's laughter is mean when he calls you obedient.

You don't ask if he's okay, or why he's covered in blood, or whose blood it is, you really would prefer not to know. He seems surprised that you're not, almost gleeful at how nonplussed you appeared as you looked him over, gaze only pausing to linger on the knife in his hand.

"Are you going to kill me now?" You sighed, as if resigned to your fate. HABIT cocks his head to the side, regarding you curiously.

"What, no response? No fear?" He passes the knife back and forth between his hands. You simply ask him to close the door, turning your back on him as you head back into the apartment, "this isn't how this is meant to go," HABIT says, sounding almost annoyed, but he at least closes the door.

"I'm not going to scream in terror just because it gets you hard," you sniped back, heading to the refrigerator, "you want a drink? How long since you've eaten - fucking ow!" You felt the blade against your back barely a second before it bit into your skin. It's only a shallow wound, enough to sting, but he holds the blade there like it's a threat, hand around you throat, pulling you against him.

"You have a lot of fucking nerve, rabbit," he snarls in your ear, and your traitorous body is unfortunately kind of into it in this moment. Whatever fucked up fantasies you may or may not have were much healthier staying just that. So you just try and focus on all of the awful shit you know he's done, and how he's covered in someone else's blood - actually not that, he's kind of hot covered in blood.

"So do you," you bit back, not fighting his hold, refusing to struggle or give the kind of reaction he was hoping for, "kill me or piss off, HABIT, do you want a drink or not?" Before he can even properly answer, you turned your face to his for a moment - wow he's closer than you were expecting, "and if you say some edgelord shit like you want to drink my blood, I'm gonna kill myself."

For a few seconds the two of you are locked in a starting contest; you bored, HABIT scowling. He twists the tip of the knife in your back, but you force yourself to remain stonefaced, simply muttering a deadpan 'ow'.

"Have you restocked your fridge since I left?"

"Went shopping this morning."

"What do you have?"

"Get the fucking knife out of my back and I'll tell you."

You wonder if HABIT knows you're bluffing, knows that you're terrified of how he could snap at any minute and hurt you. He's playing along, sitting at your tiny kitchen table, carving something into it with his knife as you make you both hot chocolates.

"There is something fucking wrong with you, rabbit," HABIT laughs as you set down the mug in front of him and take the opposite seat.

"I care about the guy you stole the steering wheel from," you answered simply with a shrug. HABIT begins to smile again, to laugh all mean and cruel.

"Fucking hell, despite all of me you're still interested in him? Seriously you're out of your fucking mind; earlier today I gouged out a woman's eyes and made her husband eat them -"

"Sounds like your kind of party."

The realisation hits him very suddenly. You watch as it occurs. Still, you continue, rolling your eyes as you explain that you're dating Evan, not him, and every relationship has issues.

"Issues?!" HABIT gets to his feet, indignant, "I'm just a fucking relationship issue to you? Do you know how much pain I'm going to put you in?!"

"So much, I'm sure," you give him a thin, mean smile of your own, "and I'll scream and I'll cry and I'll beg for it to stop, but that's because that's the natural human reaction to tremendous amounts of pain, not because I'm actually scared of you, HABIT."

HABIT slaps you so hard you crash out of your chair and to the ground. Your face smacks into a low cabinet and there's the metallic taste of blood in your mouth as you find yourself reeling. No normal human should be able to hit you that hard. It will undoubtedly bruise. HABIT's ranting now, about how your so stupid for not fearing him, pacing and gesturing with his knife.

"Eight," you interrupt him, not bothering to get up off the floor.

"Eight what?"

"Out of ten."

"On what? The pain scale? Jesus fucking Christ you people are soft -"

"On the quality of the slap, HABIT," your self preservation skills are shocking; he's definitely going to kill you.

"Why are you like this?" He asks flatly, deflating as his anger leaves him. You sit up, cross legged, leaning against the cupboard.

"Like I said, I'm not gonna scream in terror just because it gets you hard. You're not getting a proper reaction from me because you're not the one in that body who deserves to get the satisfaction from me."

HABIT stares at you for several long moments, just wearing that eerie smile. Slowly, he approached you, squatting down to be at your level, before he reaches out, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. It comes away red and slick, and neither of you break eye contact as he sticks his thumb into his mouth to taste your blood.

"I'll get you, little rabbit," he threatens lowly and you have to pretend like he's not turning you on right now.

"I look forward to it," you give him a cold smile, "can I have my boyfriend back now?"

HABIT groans loudly, like a petulant child, but concedes, and in the next instance he's gone, leaving Evan's body collapsed on your kitchen floor beside you.

Finally you feel like you can breathe again.

[qhazomb]

so some recent art by @we-cool-beans reminded me of this one "sharing a body" au i've thought about.

i've talked about my other one where it takes place post-canon, with the temporary body-sharing happening in order to save gordon from a life-threatening disease he developed (likely from all that radioactive raw sewage...), but this is one that takes place during canon.

(this is using my headcanon that benry's true form is just a big glowing cloud of rainbow cosmic energy containing a consciousness).

after gordon's hand gets chopped off, and then benry realizes humans cannot in fact regrow limbs, he's not exactly jazzed over the fact that he got gordon perma-fucked up. he's also not a big fan of the fact that he can't un-fuck him up. benry doesn't know how to make someone else's body regrow limbs, just the body that he's in!

....so then he gets the idea "oh i'll just pop into gordon's body to fix it, then."

so benry abandons his own body somewhere (not important, he can just make a new one later), and slips into gordon's when everybody's asleep. when he gets there, he originally intended on just fixing gordon's hand and then leaving, but holy shit this guy is a LOT more beat up than benry thought. this hev suit's kinda sucks at being armor, huh. there's new wounds that are looking pretty rough, and benry also notes evidence of old injuries that don't look like they healed the way they're supposed to. he's got a looooot of work to do.

when the science team all wake up, they're all extremely surprised to see that gordon is no longer down a hand. the others of course make light of it, but gordon himself is feeling a weird mix of relief and what the fuck over the fact that he just... regrew a limb. like a fucking lizard or something. the rest of the team try coming up with theories on why this happened- "Perhaps the hazardous materials you've been swimming in have given you mutant powers!" "Are you sure you're actually human?" "Maybe Black Mesa's been secretly experimenting on you without you knowing it."

gordon of course does not like any of these theories.

at one point gordon gets a cut on his hand, an sees that his blood is a LOT darker than it should be, which freaks him out further. and then, again, when that cut heals up pretty much right before his eyes, he's not sure if he should be thankful or freaking the fuck out over it.

gordon also doesn't like the fact that benry's been missing again for A While, which normally he'd be thankful for, but given the current circumstances, it's putting him extra on edge.

gordon finally finds out both why he has a hand again and where benry went when he has a big emotional outburst... that's accompanied by sweet voice.

"I didn't know you could use the Black Mesa Sweet Voice, Gordon!"

gordon insists that he can't, and his panic is rising as more coloured orbs spill from his mouth (which tommy comfirms means gordon is panicking. bubby makes a comment like "Yeah, we can tell.")

it's then that benry, who has been just been staying quiet the whole time, finally speaks up in gordon's mind. "hey, calm down maybe?"

obviously this just freaks gordon out even more, albiet in a different way.

when gordon says he can hear benry in his fucking head, there's definitely some jokes in there from the team about gordon hearing voices now/being haunted again, pff.

eventually benry's able to explain himself (the best he can, at least). he's in here because gordon couldn't heal that good on his own, and benry couldn't heal him without being in here. and he's staying here because gordon's weak lil baby human body is just SO easy to break, like damn, so benry's gotta stick around to make sure it stays put together. he's the maintenance man, now.

gordon of course HIGHLY objects to this, but it's not like he can force this weird cosmic energy being out of his body.

(and though he's not saying it out loud, he does appreciate how all his usual aches and pains have been completely gone ever since benry started this "maintenance" work.)

gordon does at least get benry to agree to get the fuck out of him once they're all out of black mesa, though.

and then through the rest of their journey, understandings happen, and bonding happens. i've imagined one point where gordon is feeling Overwhelmed with Emotions and having a bad time because of it, when benry tells him to just, sing it all out with sweet voice. gordon begrudingly does so, and then... actually does feel better afterwords. turns out sweet voice is a really good way to get Big Feelings out. huh.

now the thing that we-cool-bean's art specifically reminded me of, is when they get to xen. benry obviously isn't here to be the big bad final boss, thus the nihilanth is still kickin' around, and proving to be just as dangerous as xenrey. during the fight, benry gives gordon a lil power-up: RAINBOW DEATH MODE

(gordon doesn't get freaky shape-shifting like benry does when in RAINBOW DEATH MODE, he just gets glowy. there's extra orange in there as that's gordon's life energy colour signature!)

i picture gordon getting to land the final blow on the nihilanth, managing to get up on its head, prying open that noggin' to expose the crystal... but then being unsure what to do next.

benry yells in his mind "song of death at it!"

"How do I do that!?"

"just think about how much you wanna kill this guy and SING!"

the 'singing' that comes out of gordon's mouth sounds less like the angelic theramin notes benry sings, and more like death metal screaming, but hey it gets the job done all the same!

in the end, even after benry's vacated the freeman, it soon becomes aparent that gordon is... not entirely human anymore. having benry spend so much time hanging out within him, and then giving that RAINBOW DEATH MODE boost at the end fully cemented gordon's own connection to the cosmic ether, which is what sustains benry. now it's sustaining gordon, too.

...aaaand gordon's gonna need some lessons on how to keep from spitting out sweet voice when he gets a bit too emotional while in public :B

[unholybacon355]

Everything stays in the family

Park Jihyo x G!P Huh Yunjin

Word Count: 6.8K

TW: Incest.

[PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

DISCLAIMER: I'm adding this disclaimer because I think it's necessary.

This story have some taboo themes like incesto to name one. I need to say that obviously some of the things I wrote here aren't good and by any means I'm trying to make it look like good and normal things. Read at your own discretion.

Everything you see here is fiction and many things in this story are not really good. This is for fun and only for that. Also, all the characters you see here are adults and Jihyo is older, but I'm not specifying how old she is.

Another thing to say is that I have no clue about how human bodies actually work, so you can't expect me to be very accurate about some things. I'm not saying what because I want you to figure it out as you read.

Last thing to say is that I've been posting this story for a while on Ao3 and just now I'm doing it here. Because that I gonna post the two first chapters as one here, and this chapter gonna be full of sad things but this is necessary for the plot and background. So the smut really start on the next chapter, chapter that gonna be posted really soon here.

Summary: Things in Yunjin's life really turn upside down when someone unexpected returns from her past. After that everything becomes chaos in her life.

CHAPTER ONE

“Why is it so hard for you to call her like that? Just say it and that's it”

"Why? Maybe because she is not my mother… Not the real one at least.”

Chaewon stared at Yunjin before continuing, perhaps pondering her words or perhaps thinking of something completely different. One could never be sure with this girl. “You just admitted that you see her like a mother. It shouldn’t be that much of a problem just calling her that.”

Yunjin hugged her girlfriend around her waist and settled better next to her on the bed. “I know, it's just… It doesn't seem fair.” She pronounced the last part of that sentence lowering her voice, as if she thought she was saying something bad. “Yes, she has been very good to me and she helps me in everything she can without me even needing to ask. But I think I still owe something to my mother.” The redhead rested her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.

"Love. You don't owe that woman anything. She doesn't even talk to you anymore.” She gave the other girl a quick little kiss on the top of her nose before continuing. “It's like she has already forgotten that she is your mother, instead Jihyo has been taking care of you all this time. ”

“You make me look like the bad girl here.”

“None of that, I'm simply pointing out facts.”

“Well, I guess I'm avoiding calling her that because that would be accepting that my real mother doesn't love me anymore.”

Chaewon took her girlfriend's face with both hands and covered it with small kisses to try to change the sad expression that had taken over her. “If you lose a mother you will gain another fantastic one.” Another round of kisses on Yunjin's face and her expression began to change. “Plus I think it's a little bit hot.”

“EEEEEEEEWWWWWWW! It's my mother you're talking about.”

“Do you see how it is not so difficult? “You just need the right motivation.”

“My girlfriend trying to seduce my father's wife is not the kind of motivation I would expect.” As soon as she finished the sentence she couldn't contain her laughter, which quickly spread to her girlfriend. She kissed her back, laughing, and they both fell back on the bed. Yunjin had to admit that although sometimes the most random phrase one could expect could come out of Chaewon's mouth, or not, but when she was right she really was. “Her birthday is coming up, it would be a good gift. “I just hope she doesn't think I do so I don't feel displaced.”

“I'm sure she will understand and she will be happy. She's going to have two new daughters at the same time."

“Are you still with that idea? The truth is it is still too early to know that. There is still about a month left to know for sure.”

“It's just a feeling, but I want a younger sister.”

“Not only is it enough for you to want to steal my mother, you also plan to steal my new sister.”

“You really accepted the idea of calling her mother very quickly.”

“I do it partly to make you ashamed of making those horny jokes, even though I know it's no use.” Both girls laughed happily at Yunjin's words.

“Of course it's of no use. But you know I only find her hot because she looks a lot like you.” As soon as she finished the sentence, Chaewon blew a kiss to her girlfriend, which made the two of them burst into uncontrollable laughter.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours later, Yunjin drives home later than she should have been. She had promised Jihyo that she would help her with some things around the house, but because of her girlfriend Yunjin had missed the time. Even though she knew Jihyo wouldn't be upset, she was still worried that she didn't get home on time.

Her father's wife had always been very good to her. From the moment they met she treated her well, even before they became a couple with her father they already got along well. The truth was that Jihyo was a kind and happy woman, hardworking and very brave; but from what Yunjin had heard she was also very strict at work. Jihyo was a boss who liked the company rules and the delivery times of reports, or other activities, to be respected.

Jihyo and Yunjin's father had known each other a long time before she was born. Jihyo had originally been friends with Yunjin’s biological mother, but she had moved away a couple of years after Yunjin was born and she disappeared from her family's life for many years. After a successful career abroad she had returned to the country and her destiny ended up reuniting her with Yunjin's father. This after her parents' marriage failed.

Some time after resuming their friendship, Jihyo and Yunjae (Yunjin's father) had formed a company together. Company that to this day continued to grow and allowed them to live well, not surrounded by luxury but comfortably. Parallel to their work relationship, their personal relationship became increasingly closer, to the point that it was impossible for them to continue denying what they felt and they began dating.

While they both talked to Yunjin about her relationship and Jihyo always respected that her daughter came first for Yunjae, she didn't really care. It's not that she was indifferent to the matter, but she had already accepted a long time ago that her mother was not going to return and that her family would never be together again. On the other hand, she was very happy to see her father happy with her again. She could see that Jihyo was good for her father and that could only mean that she was the one for him. So as far as Yunjin was concerned, as long as Jihyo didn't hurt Yunjae she had no reason to poke around in their relationship.

On top of all that was the fact that Jihyo had never tried to assert herself as Yunjin's mother. She knew that she wasn't and that it wasn't her place to take that role either, no matter how much she might love Yunjin; And the truth was that the girl was very grateful for that. By this point she had already spent many years without a mother, practically all of her adolescence, so she had to learn to live without a mother figure around her. You could say that the closest thing she had to that was Chaewon's mother who always took care of her, but it was still not the same.

Nowadays, Yunjin hardly thinks about her mother anymore. Not after putting up with her lies for so long, when she stood her up, when she didn't show up to her school presentations, or because one day she simply stopped texting back to her. Because some time before Jihyo entered her life, her mother had begun to distance herself definitively, and by the time her father began the new relationship, they practically no longer spoke. Now the only contact Yunjin had with her mother was when she sent her a text to congratulate her on Christmas or her birthday, but nothing more.

For all these reasons it bothered her that she had forgotten to help Jihyo, especially now that they knew the woman was pregnant. Although she was only a couple of months pregnant, her body had already begun to show signs of change, which was why she along with Yunjae had decided that Jihyo should rest more. She now worked from home and only did the essentials, no long meetings or staying up late filling out paperwork and putting everything in order. For that she had employees, and they even took care of her and tried to make sure she didn't overexert herself. Which is why Jihyo ended up scolding them, claiming that she was only carrying a baby inside her, and that she had not become incapacitated overnight.

Even more so, she resented not having arrived on time due to the fact that Yunjae had had to make an emergency trip and would be away from home for a few weeks, so now Yunjin and Jihyo were alone. And although she knew that nothing would happen also knew the woman well enough to assume that Jihyo would try to do everything by herself. So she hurried to drive home as fast as she could without breaking the law.

When she finally arrived at her destination, she was struck by the fact that there was an unknown car parked on the sidewalk in front of the house, but she thought it could be a company employee who came for something that couldn't wait. Or maybe it was an Jihyo's friend who came to help where Yunjin had failed. Trying to push the thoughts of her guilt out of her mind, she hurried to put her own vehicle in the garage and sneak into the house, trying not to interrupt if Jihyo was in an important meeting. Certainly Yunjin would have never imagined the true nature of the conversation that was taking place in the living room.

The first thing that caught her attention was seeing Jihyo and her companion in the living room. Well, from the posture and expression of her stepmother you could easily tell that she was not comfortable at all, which made Yunjin think that it was definitely something related to her work. But then why were they be here and not in the office? Jihyo had a fully equipped office in the house, where such a meeting would normally have taken place. It was not normal for her to use the room for such things.

Now somewhat intrigued, Yunjin tried to sneak to the stairs that will take her to the second floor and the safety of her room, but when she was already setting foot on the first step she heard a sob coming from the living room. Something strange was definitely going on there. Although Jihyo was strict at work, never to the point of making her employees cry, that was something that could never be expected of her. But apparently that sob hadn't come from her stepmother either. Yunjin froze for a second until her desire to know what was happening was stronger than her, then she slowly turned and approached the entrance of the living room.

With her back pressed against the hallway wall, Yunjin could now hear what was being said inside the room. Jihyo was talking to a woman, who had a strangely familiar voice, but Yunjin was not able to identify it among the employees she knew. Straining her ears she tried to better understand what both women were saying, perhaps she did understand what they were talking about and could know the reason for the sobs.

“How dare you after everything I did for you?” The stranger said.

"Sorry? Did I listen well? Because according to my memories I was the one who had to leave, or have you already forgotten?” Jihyo was definitely angry, even though she tried to hide it, Yunjin could tell. In her mind she could almost visualize Jihyo clenching her jaw to suppress her rage.

“If I hadn't intervened, things would have been much worse for you.”

Even being on the other side of the wall, Yunjin could clearly hear Jihyo snort through her nose, almost as if trying to release some pressure from a boiler that was about to explode. Anyone who knew the woman well knew that it took a lot to get her to this point.

“I saved your and your brother's asses and all I got was the company blaming me for what happened. You two were the cause of all the losses the company had, but nevertheless the one they ran into and ended up transferring to another country was me. It took me years of hard work to make a name for myself again. ”

“What did you want me to do? My family would have lost everything if it was known that it was our fault. I couldn't put my husband and daughter through that shame, no…”

“But yet you ended up abandoning them.” Jihyo cut her off abruptly, to which the woman let out a small sob. “And control those fake tears, you're not going to fool me again.”

Apparently the woman came from Jihyo's past, and in Yunjin's head an idea was forming of who this mysterious person could be; but she wanted with all her might to be wrong. Never before had she wished so much that she was making a mistake.

“That has nothing to do with you. But of course, you benefited from it anyway. “You couldn’t stay out of Yunjae’s bed and you tried to steal my daughter.” Yunjin's heart skipped a beat, what she was hearing couldn't be true.

“My relationship with Yunjae is none of your business, and as for Yunjin. You should take better care of your words. I was the one who was there for her on all those occasions when you failed her, I was the one who had to teach her things that her mother was supposed to show her. Regardless of how things ended between you and Yunjae, she wasn't the one to blame. Yunjin still loves you, she even keeps waiting for you to call her on important dates. She tries to hide it, but I can tell how she gets sad on her birthday or Christmas.”

“You're a bitch who stole my family, don't try to lecture me.” The tone of the woman, Yunjin's biological mother, had changed drastically. Now it could be clearly seen that she was also very angry.

“You abandoned them and they took me in. End of story." In the other room Yunjin heard someone stand up. “Now you should go. I have nothing more to talk to you about. Yunjae is away, I'll tell him to contact you when he gets back. Whether he does it or not depends entirely on him. And as for Yunjin, she should be arriving any minute, but I'm not going to let her see you like this. Not today. You no longer have the right to hurt her, much less in my house.”

“It's your house only because you stole my family. That you will not forget."

“The one that should remember is you. Remember how you left your family for an adventure that only lasted a couple of months. If you care so much about your daughter, you should have stayed with her instead of chasing an idiot.”

Yunjin couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her parents had never told her the real reason why her mother had left. Although they talked to her, she always suspected that there was something more behind the whole situation. Now that she was finding out everything, she would have liked it to happen differently.

“Damn bitch, don't tell me what to do!” Yunjin's mother was clearly losing her temper, and the girl, unable to take it anymore, quickly stood up and entered the room facing both women.

Sure enough standing in front of Jihyo, who looked like she was hurting herself because her jaw was so clenched, was the woman who had given birth to Yunjin. The same one that had dumped her, the same one that had forgotten about her and now burst into her life as if nothing had happened. Just now that everything seemed to be going well.

"Mother!" Was all Yunjin could say as she burst into the room. She could now see the two women standing in front of each other, both with unfriendly expressions. At the sudden appearance of the girl Jihyo changed her expression drastically. Going in a matter of seconds from having the sternest look Yunjin had ever seen on her, to an expression of deep concern.

The other woman on her part seemed to get even angrier. She had a vein in her temple that was about to burst, and she seemed to be blowing steam out of her nose from how angry she was. "Damned!" She yelled at Jihyo. “It was probably your idea for her to listen to our conversation. You can’t stop putting things in my daughter’s head.” With the most poisonous look she had she tried to pounce on Jihyo, but in a reflex action Yunjin put herself between both women.

“Mom, what are you doing?!” Yunjin couldn't believe what was happening. "Stop." She added, but her voice barely came out. From one moment to the next her throat had dried up to the point where it was difficult for her to speak.

“Yunjin… I… Get away from this bitch. Don't you see that she's trying to turn you against me?” While the woman spoke she changed her tone on more than one occasion. First surprise, then confusion, and finally impregnating her words with rage and venom.

“Mom, no…” Yunjin slowly lowered her arms that she had opened without realizing it, to prevent her own mother from reaching Jihyo. “Is everything I heard true?”

"Daughter. Don't believe this bitch, she just wants to play the victim. She is trying to turn you against me.”

"Mother. Is it true or not?" At some point Yunjin's eyes had started to water. “Is it true that you abandoned my father for an affair? Just for that?”

“Don't listen to her my love… All this woman wants is to destroy my family.”

“‘WE ARE NOT YOUR FAMILY ANYMORE!’” The scream escaped from Yunjin like a reflex, like an outlet for all the rage and pain she was suddenly feeling. “You abandoned us for nothing, you no longer have the right to call us family.”

“Daughter… I…”

“GO away, just go. I don't want to know about you anymore. And also leave my father alone, now we are happy with someone who loves us and cares about us.” Yunjin was really holding back her tears, and gathering all her strength so that her voice wouldn't end up breaking.

“Daughter, that woman…”

“You heard her,” Jihyo intervened, advancing and putting herself between Yunjin and her mother. “You have to leave, I won't repeat it again.” The expression on Jihyo's face was as stern as her muscles would allow her to express. At first glance you could see that the woman was not playing.

"Bitch. You’re going to find out who you’re messing with.” Despite the hatred printed in her words, the woman took her bag and headed for the exit.

“No, I'm not going to do it. I already know what kind of vermin you are, I learned it a long time ago. But if you still care about something, you are not going to come near this house again or everyone is going to find out what happened in that company.”

Both women held each other's gaze for a few seconds that seemed eternal, then letting out a cry of frustration, Yunjin's mother left the house, slamming the door loudly. Inside Jihyo and Yunjin stood as they were for a few minutes, listening as the woman started the car and collided with what seemed to be a flowerpot in the garden, to finally leave.

Suddenly Yunjin found herself surrounded by Jihyo's arms, in an attempt to comfort and contain her. But the demonstration of affection had the opposite effect and Yunjin could no longer hold back her tears. She burst into tears hugging the woman standing next to her as tightly as she could. The woman who had defended her from her own mother, which made her cry even more. And even though she could feel her tears falling onto Jihyo's expensive suit she couldn't help but continue crying.

Yunjin thought she was over her mother, but this sudden intrusion had clearly shown her that was not the case. Besides, now she didn't know what hurt her more, whether her mother's lies, how she had treated Jihyo, or that she was the one who had to defend her from her mother. Right now the only thing Yunjin was sure of was that she felt an emptiness in her heart and she didn't want to let go of Jihyo for any reason.

For her part, the woman said nothing. She just kept hugging Yunjin tightly and stroking her hair from time to time. Every once in a while she would kiss her on the head and try to clean the tears out a little, but she didn't try to say anything or stop Yunjin from crying. She knew it was better to let her release all her grief, but what Jihyo didn't know was that this spontaneous display of affection only made Yunjin cry more.

Yunjin had just kicked her mother out of her life, which she certainly deserved, and it was Jihyo who was supporting her in this strange situation. She couldn't believe that just a few hours ago she had doubted whether she should call Jihyo mother or not, and now the woman had earned it. It wasn't like she didn't deserve it before, but now she herself had shown that she loved Yunjin more than her own mother. It was incredible how life could turn upside down in just a second.

They stayed hugging like that for a long time, so long that they began to get tired, but Jihyo did nothing to move the girl from the spot. She just let her cry as much as she wanted, as much as she needed to. However, Yunjin suddenly realized that she was hugging a pregnant woman, that Jihyo had gone through a very difficult time, and that she couldn't force her to stand for so long. Yunjin slowly released her hug and turned her face away from the older woman's body, careful not to make any sudden movements.

“You should sit down” She whispered looking at the woman, but Jihyo just wiped the tears from Yunjin's face with her sleeve. “It's not good for you to be on your feet for so long.”

"Dear." Jihyo said with a kind smile on her face, showing how worried she was for the girl. “I'm fine, I'm more worried about you.” In a reflex action, Yunjin couldn't help but hug her again.

"Let's sit. I do not want anything to happen to you." Jihyo let herself be guided by the girl to the couch where they both sat one beside the other.

Yunjin didn't know what to say, and for her part Jihyo didn't want to force her to speak. So they stayed silent as Yunjin slowly leaned down and hugged Jihyo again. The older woman once again surrounded her with her arms, in a rather maternal attitude, which made Yunjin shed another tear. It was incredible how she had never noticed how Jihyo always treated her like her own daughter.

Yunjin was once again lost in her thoughts as she hugged Jihyo, so she didn't notice that she had started crying again. Now they were small tears that ran down her cheeks, which also ended up on Jihyo's suit. But the older woman again said nothing, Yunjin's well-being was still more important to her than a piece of clothing.

Again they stood there hugging for what seemed like an eternity, and again Jihyo let the girl cry in peace. Yunjin was really grateful for that gesture, all she needed right now was peace. A peace that it pained her to remember had been taken away by her mother.

"Dear." Jihyo whispered in Yunjin's ear when they had been like this for quite some time. “I know it hurts you and that you should let it all out, but it's too late. ”For a second Yunjin thought that she would be reprimanded for taking up the woman's time, but she was greatly surprised when Jihyo continued. “I guess you haven't had dinner yet. Do you want me to order something to eat? We can talk about what happened while the food arrives.”

Holding back tears, Yunjin separated from Jihyo and nodded. She was sure that now she herself couldn't speak, her throat hurt a little and she felt a little dizzy, but in fact she also suddenly felt very hungry.

"Very good. Give me a second." Then Jihyo in another maternal gesture kissed Yunjin forehead before taking her own phone and opening an application to order some dinner. After a few minutes she put the phone aside again and put her hands around Yunjin's. “Do you want to talk now?”

Again Yunjin nodded her head. “But I need to wash my face first.” She added with a small sigh, before getting up to go to the bathroom. She returned minutes later, a little clearer and with her face clean of all traces of tears. She still had red eyes though. “Is everything you said before true… About my mother?” Yunjin asked, finally sitting down next to the older woman.

“I don't know how much you heard, but everything I said is true. Many years ago I had to leave my life behind because of her and your uncle.”

“Is it also true that she left us to pursue another man?” Yunjin asked as she felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

“That is also true. But you should ask your father about that, I have no authority and I shouldn't get involved in that matter. It's something you have to resolve between yourselves, however I'm going to say that Yunjae didn't tell you anything trying not to hurt you.”

Yunjin stifled a small sob that threatened to make her cry again, but gathering all her strength she managed to suppress the cry. “Okay, I'll wait for my father to come back to talk to him. But I have a couple more questions that I would like you to answer.”

“Shoot and we'll see if I'm in a position to respond.”

The conversation that followed was long and in many parts Yunjin was on the verge of crying again, but Jihyo always managed to comfort her in time. Some of the girl's questions were not answered, either because Jihyo believed it wasn't her thing or simply because she didn't want to delve into certain topics right now. Anyway, after two long hours and a dinner in between, Yunjin was visibly calmer.

The girl sent a couple of texts to her girlfriend telling Chaewon in general terms what had happened, and promising that the next day she would update her on everything that had happened. Then she and jihyo decided that it was late and they should rest, so they got ready to go to bed. The older woman said goodbye to Yunjin with a new kiss on her forehead and made her promise that if she needed anything from Jihyo she would not hesitate to go talk to her. Which planted a strange seed in the girl's head.

Minutes later, when Jihyo was ready to get into bed, she heard Yunjin knock on her bedroom door, with small, timid knocks. “Come in, you can come in,” the older woman said loudly so the girl could hear her. "What's wrong dear?" She asked when Yunjin was inside the room.

“Jihyo… Can I ask you a favor?” Yunjin asked the question by looking away and trying to hide her hands in the sleeves of her pajamas. “It's actually silly, so if you don't want to it's fine, but…” she swallowed and thought that she couldn't continue.

"Calm down. It doesn’t matter what it is, just ask.”

"Good." Yunjin swallowed again. “You already did a lot for me today, more than I would have been able to ask for. But I wanted to ask you… I wanted to know if I can sleep with you tonight.” Yunjin finally shoot.

For a small second Jihyo's face lit up with a wide smile. “Of course you can, no problem.” She gestured for Yunjin to close the door t, and join her on the bed. Shyly Yunjin walked slowly until she reached the edge of the large bed, thought about it for a few seconds and finally got into the place that her father would normally use.

"Thank you. For what happened before, and for letting me sleep with you.”

“No problem, it's the least I can do for you. I may not show it but I care about you. ”

"I know. I've always noticed it, and I'm grateful to you for that. I’m glad it’s not like in the movies.”

“Are you glad I’m not the evil stepmother trying to steal the father's fortune? Honey, you can’t claim victory yet.” It was obviously a joke and Yunjin knew it, so she couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. “Now that you are happier, we should sleep. We both need to rest.”

“Ok evil stepmother.” It was Jihyo who couldn't help but laugh this time, as she turned off the light.

“Be careful, maybe I have a hidden cauldron in the basement.” For the first time since they met, Jihyo allowed herself to tickle Yunjin, to which the girl responded with more laughter.

“What happened to sleeping?” Yunjin asked with a laugh. "The one who needs rest the most is you, I don't want anything to happen to my brother."

“Now you sound like your father. Killjoy." Yunjin wasn't able to see the small pout Jihyo made, but that only meant how comfortable the woman felt being around her. A strange connection had formed that night between the two of them. "Good night."

"Good night."

That time they did remain silent, trying to sleep, covered up to their necks next to each other. However, the minutes passed and Yunjin was unable to fall asleep, there were too many things in her head that did not let her rest. She felt a little tormented by everything that had happened just a few hours ago, so Yunjin instinctively approached Jihyo. It had been so many years since she had last slept with her mother that she wasn't even able to remember how she felt. There was nothing left of that familiar warmth that once existed between them. All she had right now was the woman who was lying next to her.

Without really knowing why she was doing it, Yunjin clung closer to Jihyo and tried to hug her from behind. She slowly circled her waist, until she froze when she felt the woman move. But far from scolding her or pushing her away, Jihyo intertwined her fingers with the girl's, while she herself clung a little closer to Yunjin's body. Without saying a word Jihyo took Yunjin's hand and raised it to her chest.

The girl had to hold back tears once again at Jihyo's gesture. She had already lost count of how many times something the woman did had almost brought her to tears that day. "Thank you." She whispered so quietly that it was impossible for Jihyo to have heard her, since she was saying it more to herself.

Again the minutes passed and again Yunjin couldn't sleep, but this time for a different reason. “Jihyo. Can I ask you another question?” Said in almost a whisper.

“The last one of the night. You have classes tomorrow, don't forget. You know your father gets angry if you miss school.”

Yunjin gave a small smile before speaking again. “Today I was discussing it with Chaewon, and the truth is… I was going to ask you at some point anyway, but I guess after what happened today I don't want to wait anymore… You still don't have to answer right away, and it's totally valid if you tell me no.”

“Yunjin, just ask the question. I promise to think carefully before answering.”

"Okay. I wanted to know if you are okay with me calling you… mother?” The girl could feel a knot forming again in the pit of her stomach, and she prepared to run away at any moment.

Jihyo, for her part, remained silent for a few long seconds, contemplating her response. Then she brought Yunjin's hand up to her face and placed a small kiss on the girl's fingers. “Of course you can, but only on one condition.”

Yunjin's heart stopped for a second upon hearing the answer, but all happiness escaped upon knowing that there was a condition. Without really knowing what to think, she felt Jihyo turn to face her, and although Yunjin couldn't see her because of the darkness, she knew that Jihyo was looking directly into her eyes.

“You can call me mother only if you let me call you daughter.” Now Yunjin was about to suffer cardiac arrest. At this moment that conversation she had had with Chawon the same afternoon seemed so far away, she couldn't believe that it had been on the same day.

With a huge smile Yunjin approached and kissed Jihyo on the cheek. “Then we have a deal… Mother” She felt strange the first time she said it, the first time Yunjin called this woman mother, but at the same time she felt warm. The mere mention of the word manifested a deep connection between the two of them, which although it already existed. Now she was strengthened from one moment to the next.

Jihyo kissed her back by gently pressing her lips against Yunjin's forehead, like she had done so many times that day. “Now you should sleep, or Yunjae is going to scold me for keeping you up late.”

“If you don't tell him, he won't find out.”

“Smart girl, come here.” Jihyo pulled Yunjin close to her, in a warm hug. “I don't want the first thing I have to do as your mother is scolds you.”

"Goodnight mother." Yunjin responded between giggles, while she also hugged her mother.

"Good night, daughter." With a new kiss on Yunjin's forehead, both women prepared to sleep, this time for good. One next to the other, hugging each other. Finally Yunjin's heart was calm, and the girl managed to fall asleep with her head resting on Jihyo's chest.

The next morning they had breakfast together, laughing and trying not to think too much about all the bad things that had happened the day before. They also did not abuse the status they had both earned, after all Jihyo already used to call Yunjin “Honey” or “Dear” in an affectionate way. For her part, the girl was used to calling the woman by her first name, not because she was disrespectful because it had been Jihyo herself who asked her to do so.

After the lively breakfast Yunjin got ready to go to university, and Jihyo sat at her desk next to a steaming cup of coffee. The woman was still wearing her pajamas, but since she worked from home and she was the boss, there was no problem with that. When Yunjin came to say goodbye to her and announce that she was leaving, Jihyo was already immersed in reports and client orders. Even so, she took a minute to wish her daughter a happy day and say goodbye to her.

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“You have the SD card with you, right?” Yunjin's eyes widened as her girlfriend opened the car’s door. It had been about half an hour since she left the house, and with all the hustle and bustle of the night before and the cheerful chatter of the morning Yunjin had completely forgotten about the SD card that contained their project. “You forgot itr!” Chaewon quickly accused her when she saw the expression on Yunjin’s face.

“A lot of things happened last night, don't scold me…” Yunjin pouted very sincerely, to which Chaewon responded by rolling her eyes.

“If you don't start the car now and we go back to your house to look for that memory, I'm going to accuse you of your father.”

“Why does everyone suddenly want to accuse me of my father?”

“Because you listen to him, and because you're a daddy's girl.” This time it was Yunjin who rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's words and the giggle that came after. But she ended up laughing with her.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Yunjin started the car and headed towards her home. The girl took advantage of the trip back home to update her girlfriend on the events of the previous night, or at least tell her everything as best she could considering that they were almost late for college. They were probably going to miss the first period of class, but that was better than arriving empty-handed at the project review.

Chaewon let her girlfriend talk while patting her thigh to try to comfort her. She would have liked to do more at that moment, but she was prevented by the fact that Yunjin was driving almost at excess speed and trying not to hit anyone. Fortunately they had the afternoon free, so she was sure that later she would have plenty of time to talk and comfort her properly.

“Do you at least remember where you put it?” Chaewon asked when they were outside the house.

“Yesssss, I already told you. It can only be in one place.” Yunjin almost ran out of the car and didn't even bother to turn off the engine, they wouldn't be there for more than a few minutes.

She was very sure that she had the damn memory with her before going to bed the night before, she was carrying it next to her phone. Which meant that Yunjin had most likely forgotten it on her father's nightstand, so it must still be there.

She quickly headed to Jihyo's office to let her know that she would go to the room to check if the memory was there, but Yunjin found the office empty. Maybe her mother had gotten up to use the bathroom, or she had had to go to the office for something important. Whatever the case Yunjin didn't have time for that now, so she abandoned the idea of telling Jihyo and preferred to just go see if she found the damn card.

Yunjin went up to the second floor and turning down the hallway she faced the door of the room where she had spent the previous night. Normally Yunjin didn't go in there if she didn't need to, but it was clear that this was an occasion where she did. So she opened the door and quickly entered her parents' room. So fast that she forgot to knock on the door in case Jihyo was in there. A mistake that Yunin instantly regretted, because what she saw left her frozen in the spot.

She saw Jihyo lying on the bed with her head hanging over the edge closest to the door, only this time the woman was completely naked. She didn't have any piece of clothing covering her body, and she certainly didn't need it for what she was doing. As Yunjin could tell.

Jihyo played with her heavy tits, which had certainly grown since she'd gotten pregnant, while her other hand held a wand vibrator to her crotch. The woman had her eyes tightly closed as she made small moans, which had surely been the reason why she did not hear Yunjin enter. Who was now gawking at her mother's naked body.

For some strange reason the sight of those huge tits, topped by large brown nipples, was triggering something in Yunjin. That added to the moans and as Jihyo's hips rose and her pussy lips opened in an attempt to engulf the head of the vibrator, all that together had begun to send a lot of blood to Yunjin crotch, where an erection was now forming. It was that or maybe it was the perfect mop of hair that hid Jihyo’s clitoris from Yunjin's view that was making her member throb. Maybe it was all of that combined or what had given the girl the fastest and most painful erection she had ever had in her life. Not even the many depraved things she had done with Chaewon had brought her to that point.

All of this happened in just a few seconds. In a fleeting moment that was interrupted when Jihyo massaged one of her nipples more than necessary, causing a stream of milk to fly that ended up right in Yunjin's face. The girl screamed out of pure instinct, thus interrupting her mother in that very private moment. Jihyo, for her part, opened her eyes wide and stared at Yunjin in shock, petrified in the mid of her movement. With her hips raised and the vibrator pressing against her vagina lips.

[melbatron5000]

The Big Damn Kiss

Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.

This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.

I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.

DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!

Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?

Ahem.

Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.

I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)

Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:

And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:

And the next:

And our last Clue:

With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies. Edit: Found it!

Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:

One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.

Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?

So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.

Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.

Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!

Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.

I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.

I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:

(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)

My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.

Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.

(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)

What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?

A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?

Oh yes.

Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.

Here's Aziraphale reading the records:

Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:

And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:

That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.

That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.