#with dodgy scene partners

[m--rtyr]

08x10 SPOILER

Look I do appreciate the Buddie scene, but I kind of wish we got a scene with Buck and Maddie instead.

Like keep the Buddie scene and put it in next episode or something.

Because idk I just feel like it felt very… meh. When she was kidnapped last time, Buck was breaking laws to find her, and now she ALMOST DIED and we don’t even see him visiting her in hospital? He didn’t even really react much when she was missing, even though he knew something was off.

I just feel like Partners-In-Protecting-Maddie Buck and Chim were scrapped for Buddie fan service. But I’ll need to rewatch to like. Grasp it more I guess. Maybe it was just 4 am and I didn’t clock everything. I just think it’s weird that their priority was ‘Buck feels abandoned :(‘ and not him being stupid protective.

Like him and Chim were basically grounded by Athena in the dispatch-Takeover event because she caught them both trying to get to Maddie because she wasn’t picking up her phone and things were dodgy. He broke the law to try and find Maddie when Chimney was stabbed and she was missing and he could just tell it was Doug. You’re telling me he wouldn’t be doing equally dangerous things when she randomly vanishes? Not even him sitting with her in hospital for a bit?

Idk… I just feel like it tried really hard to put Buck and Eddie together whilst they still had the time to and forgot they have relationships and storylines together outside of coexisting.

Like it very easily could’ve been that Eddie wanted to spend his last moments in LA with Buck, and so he drives him to the hospital to see Maddie, and we do parallel the final Buck/Abby scene but it’s Buck that’s walking away. Because just like Chris is Eddie’s number one, Maddie is Buck’s, and if it’s between each other and their actual family, it’ll never be a debate. I mean having this huge build up about Buck not being able to accept Eddie is leaving, and he’s the one that pulls away right at the last moment?

Idk I feel like it would be good for Buck not to be the one left behind this time. Yes Eddie is leaving, but Buck is the one leaving *him*, if that makes sense?

Idk

I just wanted to see the Buckley siblings in the same room this episode maybe?

[dragon-susceptible]

Lyrennus

So, random post because I've seen some stuff lately about hating Lyrennus, and I just . . . have some thoughts, because I really actually don't hate him. I feel sorry for him more than anything, and I wanted to kind of share my perspective on things.

So, first off, we have to remember that the assassins believed they were doing what was best for the world at large - "kill one killer, and the number of killers in the world remains the same. But kill two-" type logic. They were a highly admirable profession in the Silvergrove, and Lyrennus is obviously a highly respected man in his own position as well. So he's a powerful man with a hot temper with a son who is equally fiery but in a different, equally well-respected position. They pretty heavily imply that Ram is his only family, plus this is his only child who he would ordinarily reasonably expect to outlive him.

Rayla didn't know that sparing Marcos and lying about it would lead to her finding the dragon egg and saving the world. The elves left in the Silvergrove, and the other assassins, have every right to be angry with her, because her actions did condemn them all. If she had been honest, they could have postponed. But she lied instead, and it cost them all their lives, and there was no way to know that she would actually build anything better out of that sacrifice. It's fair of Lyrennus, and whatever family the other assassins had, to be angry still for throwing their families' lives away.

I also think that Lyrennus claiming to be the fifth elf she wronged was . . . a nuanced action. Because see, the most inclusive right thing to do would have been to claim she needed forgiveness from the families of all of the dead. Though also, I admit, that assumes the other assassins still have living family; they might not, we don't really know, they're never addressed. While Andromeda does wear horn cuffs, her husband could be long-dead for all we know, as we see from Ethari that a partner's death doesn't necessarily mean they remove them.

With that said, Lyrennus is an angry, tired old man, who, with his position, is likely used to being a representative of other people. It's fair to remind Rayla that her actions didn't just harm the elves who died, but also their families, and to demand she gain forgiveness for that too. So, symbolically, while it's potentially dodgy for Lyrennus to place himself in that position, we don't actually know if there is anyone else left to fill it and it's fair for someone to represent it. If they want the Ritual done right away, he might also have just been the most convenient person to fill the position. So there's reasons beyond his own anger for this to happen, alongside the anger being . . . not necessarily a good reason, but certainly an understandable reason for demanding Rayla earn his forgiveness.

Another thing that I saw pointed out was the illusion of Ram turning bloodied and broken when Lyrennus lost his temper, and I just wanna point out several things about that.

First of all, Rayla was able to speak to each of the other assassins' core values and validate them. Humans and elves treat each other with honor again, so Skor's strength for honor was justified. Everyone now sees the truth of what happened the day Avizandum was killed and the egg stolen, so Andromeda's eyes for truth were justified. The world is now free from the weight of the lies and the existing war, so Callisto's breath was sacrificed for true freedom after all. But Ram, Lyrennus' son, she just asked him if the duty he dedicated his blood to was true justice. Ram saw her argument and accepted it, but it makes sense for his father to see this as a dismissal of his son's sacrifice.

Also, that wasn't an illusion. That was a (limited, but still) summoned shade like the ones we see in Through the Moon. We know that because their spirits separately forgive Rayla, that's the whole reason for that scene.

We . . . don't know what Ram looked like when he died. All we know for sure is that he had one intact leg, as Runaan stumbles past it to get outside. We don't even know if it was still attached to him. So that moment where he turns visibly bloody and broken could just as much have been Lyrennus' breakdown losing hold on the stability of the connection to the afterlife, and sending the assassins' spirits back to their moments of death. Alternatively, it could have been the spirits fading and Lyrennus lashing out with an illusion formed of his own nightmares. I really don't think he specifically crafted this image to torture Rayla - I think it's either a literal moment for Ram's spirit or an image from Lyrennus' own nightmares that was conjured up by his rage and grief. Moon knows I've had enough nightmares of loved ones i've lost to violence to know that's a thing, and with him already in the midst of using all this magic, it makes sense to me personally.

We know Lyrennus was proud of Ram, based on the credits sketch of seeing him off. We know they were close, because of how he reacts to his grief. We know he loved his kid and that was all the family he had left, and Rayla's actions took his child away from him before she ever had an inkling she would go on to change the world.

He doesn't chase her down when she flees from his anger. She finds him still in there, where his son's spirit was summoned, locked in his moment of grief and anger. She comes to him because she understands that her actions harmed him, too, not just the assassins who died (or mostly did), and she talks him down from that anger. I've said in previous posts that I think he was telling the truth when he said he'd never forgive her, but actually, looking back on the scene, I feel like a dumbass, because the whole point of that scene was that the Ritual only worked if he did.

Which is the whole! point! of the show!

He was reacting understandably, out of grief and anger, which is treated by the narrative as one and the same with the "cycle of violence". He doesn't physically attack her, but actions taken based in anger are the real point of the cycle the whole narrative is condemning. Violence itself is not (as Janai and Amaya still being treated as heroes demonstrates). Rayla breaks the cycle of hatred by forgiving him for his reaction. The unexpected compassion she has for him shatters the anger, and he forgives her.

Anyway. Yeah. I can't say he's my favorite character or anything, but I also think Lyrennus is getting way too much flak for his behavior. When it comes down to it, he was understandably upset, but was willing to give Rayla a chance. She said something that could understandably come across as insensitive - and frankly, so the fuck did Runaan, he should have known perfectly well that Ram was Lyrennus' son. Rayla's "is this justice?" could feel bad to Ram's family, but "Is it not done?" just was outright insensitive - and Lyrennus had one wild outburst of anger and grief that visibly took something out of him as well as Rayla, featuring an image of his son that likely haunts his nightmares whether it's real or not. Then, when she came back, he almost immediately gave in when faced with compassion, apologized, forgave her, and did what he could to fix the harm that he did with that outburst.

He serves as a pretty direct and blatant foil to Viren, who also has these wild outbursts, but reacts with physical violence and never apologizes, takes responsibility, or tries to fix the harm he does. Also, he's doing it in defense of his lost son, instead of blatantly sacrificing his very present son at every opportunity.

So I don't dislike him at all. I actually just think his canon story is really fucking heartbreaking, if well-written. There's no getting over the kind of loss that he's experienced, but I do hope he's able to find a little bit of healing.

[open-hearth-rpg]

Open Hearth Video Roundup - January 6, 2025

Welcome to the monthly Open Hearth Gaming video roundup!

These recorded sessions represent only a portion of the games we play every month, and anyone is welcome to join the fun! If you'd like to play in games like these, join our Playabl community and click on the "Calendar" tab to sign up for upcoming games. To browse our entire library of session videos, please visit our YouTube Playlists page. To hear our recorded sessions in audio-only form, please check out our Playing at the Hearth podcast.

Open Hearth Gaming Calendar

Kingdom 2e: Fall of the Overlord (Session 1 of 2) Lowell Francis runs for Dom, Donogh, and Michele The first of a two-part series of Kingdom 2e by Ben Robbins. In this session we split between set up and playing out our first Crossroad. Our characters explore the fate of a fantasy city, newly liberated from a force of evil by heroic factions. But now comes the hard part of rebuilding, reconciling, and finding hope.

Kingdom 2e: Fall of the Overlord (Session 2 of 2) Lowell Francis runs for Dom, Donogh, and Michele The second of a two-part series of Kingdom 2e by Ben Robbins. In this session we play out a second Crossroad. Our characters explore the fate of a fantasy city, newly liberated from a force of evil by heroic factions. But now comes the hard part of rebuilding, reconciling, and finding hope.

Hearts of Yokai: The Deepening Gulf (Session 7) Lowell Francis runs for Ethan Harvey, Patrick Knowles, Sherri, and Tyler Lominack After a couple week break, we return. While some of the group dea with preparations for the party, others discover or deal with strangeness. But then the time of the party finally arrives, putting everyone in difficult positions and forcing choices.

Hearts of Yokai: The Deepening Gulf (Session 8) Lowell Francis runs for Ethan Harvey, Patrick Knowles, Sherri, and Tyler Lominack The group reluctantly agrees to investigate the murder of the Goblin boss who was set to half a duel with one of their associates. This leads them to the Goblin Market, and some lessons about the structure of the Goblin families. They investigate the murder scene, get shot by a dream bullet, and discover connections to the missing cadre they've been hunting for...

The Cluster (Session 1) Alun R. runs for Joe F, Kae, and Sabine V. A Routine Cargo Run - We meet Gallant, a Deacon of Galiel's Aid & Order, an authoritarian government to whom he betrayed his parents. He is accompanied by Nestor Green, bought out of 'The Creche' of the barely survivable world of Snagg by a mercenary company, before going AWOL, and Jax Merrin, former dodgy investigator among the asteroids of Iron Wreath, who made a choice that led to his partner being pushed out of an airlock... A routine cargo run to the Galiel colony of 'Budding Two' turns complicated when there are missiles, a hot reception, and a a misunderstanding calmed down. Then, disturbing clues of criminal involvement, smuggling and heresy...

The Cluster (Session 2) Alun R. runs for Joe F, Sabine V., and Will H A Budding Mystery - When Deacon Gallant goes missing there's a difficult meeting with an unconcerned Dean for which Dr Marion Rillisk comes down from orbit to join Jax & Nestor. Dissatisfied with the Dean's response the team split up to look for Gallant. There's a cigarette break that turns into a knife fight (or maybe just practice); an attack (that might have been an assassination attempt); and an explosion that threatens potential evidence. Then, a suspect presents herself but the involvement of a potent Faction causes everyone to take a deep breath before the team gets back together...and gets a potentially very valuable job!

The Cluster (Session 3) Alun R. runs for Kae, Sabine V., and Will H A Whisper in the Void - Though Jax stays off-screen the reunited crew depart on a potentially lucrative job through the Ring Gate to the Void system. There's the cramped quarters and discomfort of travel between Gates and some shore leave before there's a Whisper to follow. Then, a distress call, PDCs at short range, and a high G pursuit that turns into a missile duel...

The Cluster (Session 4) Alun R. runs for Joe F, Kae, Sabine V., and Will H The Forsaken - The Crew land among the high peaks that keep the Forsaken 'safe' above the dense jungles, fungal infections and spore storms that leave the rest of the planet largely uninhabitable. Deacon Gallant is surprised by missionaries and Nestor isn't sure why they'd want to hunt down a stranger, while Jax and Rillisk con Captain Golvan into giving them access to the Whisper's logs. There's spare parts collected and a short interdiction by the Ring Gate Authority, while Gallant's a crisis of faith is painfully resolved (or is it) and a salvage op turns into the rescue...that may provide the segue-way to Season 2...

Wickedness (Session 1 of 3) Donogh runs for Matthew Doughty and Sabine V. Using the Urban Fantasy playset, discover the Sanctuary, City and the Underworld our coven of witches find themselves in. Meet Pepper the Pure Heart, Ivy the Wild Spirit and Motley the Old Soul, their friends and neighbours and their truths.

Wickedness (Session 2 of 3) Donogh runs for Matthew Doughty and Sabine V. The Coven's trouble begin when Ivy is captured by a Greedy Devil and placed in a gilded bird cage for purposes unknown. How will the others rescue their friend?

Community Radio: WAYS "You'll Find Yours, Just Wait" Lowell Francis runs for Cale P, Casey T, David S., and Rae Nedjadi We play a one-shot of Quinn Murphy's Community Radio. Your town has deep secrets, terrifying monsters, unspeakable evils, a clandestine city council making strange decrees...and a public radio station! In Community Radio, a group of 3 - 10 people gather to improvise scenes that show what life is like in this town, with accompanying public radio broadcasts. It's a game of dark humor and fast thinking that can entertain for 1-2 hours. If you like Welcome to Nightvale, this is the game for you!

Kingdom 2e: Far Station Eschaton (Session 1 of 2) Lowell Francis runs for Dominik M., Eliot, and Marc The first of a two-part series of Kingdom 2e by Ben Robbins, with a frame influenced by Deep Space Nine and Babylon Five. In this session we split between set up and playing out our first Crossroad. Far Station Eschaton has experienced a boom with the opening of a new wormhole leading to a sector of space shrouded in legend. But this has created new pressures from population, a nearby civil war, and the influence of a Confederation that is a shadow of its former self.

Kingdom 2e: Far Station Eschaton (Session 2 of 2) Lowell Francis runs for Dominik M., Eliot, and Marc The second of a two-part series of Kingdom 2e by Ben Robbins, with a frame influenced by Deep Space Nine and Babylon Five. In this session we split deal with the fallout from the first Crossroad and explore a second one. New forces threaten Far Station Eschaton when a new alien people emerge from the wormhole and offer an alliance. Will the station take up this opportunity? What costs must be paid?

Heart: The City Beneath (Session 2 of 4) Marc Majcher runs for Eliot, Gwendolyn Marshall, Nic Bennett, and Sabine V. Wherein our delvers get involved with the brutal Redcap Druids and their inter-city drug trade, and embroiled in a scheme to extract intel from and dispose of an "undercover" Aelfir cop.

Heart: The City Beneath (Session 3 of 4) Marc Majcher runs for Brandon Brylawski, Eliot, Nic Bennett, and Sabine V. This week's session of Heart features a dirty Aelfir cop* that won't die, rock-boring maggots, a religious vivisection, and everyone rushing to touch the Thing That Should Not Be Touched. Good times down there! *all cops are dirty

Heart: The City Beneath (Session 4 of 4) Marc Majcher runs for Eliot, Gwendolyn Marshall, and Nic Bennett Our final session of our Heart four-shot! Everything is super gross and things end... badly? for almost everyone. No, everyone.

Solstice Donogh runs for Blake Ryan, David S., and Tad Malcolm, the prodigal student returns home in time for the solstice, but his presence ruffles a few feathers, especially with Cameron and Faith; while those two’s complicated history brings Helen’s relationship with both of them into stark relief...

Fiasco: Poppleton Mall Donogh runs for Casey T, Madelancholy, and Mark Pop down to Poppleton Mall for the complete entertainment experience this festive season! The Holiday Spirit is offering a discount on Christmas Elves to adorn your garden, the Smoothie Store is nearly out of its pine-scented berry specials, and the Cult of Drath are looking to warn the unwary about the dangers of this extravaganza of consumerism!

Star Wars Saturday

Swoop Gangs: Niamos (Session 8 of 10) Rich Rogers runs for Anders, Cody Eastlick, Marc Majcher, and Steven Watkins A decent roll at the start of the game leads to one big fight scene at the Knights of the Old Republic Dinner and Tournament.

Swoop Gangs: Niamos (Session 9 of 10) Rich Rogers runs for Anders, Greg, Marc Majcher, and Steven Watkins The Gundarks spring someone from a chain gang and the new pres secures some hold.

Swoop Gangs (Session 10 of 10) Rich Rogers runs for Anders, Cody Eastlick, Greg, Marc Majcher, and Steven Watkins Niamos||The grand finale!

Off-Calendar Highlights

Hearts of Wulin: Numberless Secrets: Gaze into Silken Night, Season Two (Episode 7 of 7) Madelancholy runs for Agatha, Michael D., Rod Santos, and Thomas Manuel Season finale! Revelation reviewed, and everyone converges on the true villain...butterflies and battle, endings and epilogues. These characters will return for Season Three...

[thatdruidgal]

Due to disability I am going on brief hiatus

Things have been very difficult and my mental health is suffering.

State benefits are still being dodgy, so I am selling all that I own to try and make rent. I am trying to care for my daughter but it’s extremely difficult. My partner is stuck between college and work, and is getting a max of $50 a week total from both.

I am having horrible episodes related to my disabilities and I need to take a break to recuperate and maybe get my life back on track.

If we have formed a friendship on here, I’m going to send you my discord so we can keep talking. You guys are wonderful.

I’m very sorry. I will probably be working on some projects behind-the-scenes in any spare time I have, but I can’t manage this account right now.

I’ll be back later,

Branwen

[dailycupofcreativitea]

You ever realize Goku and Piccolo like, never actually reconciled?

They fought at the world martial arts tournament then don't see each other for 5 years. Then Raditz shows up talks shit, kidnaps Gohan, Piccolo offers a temporary alliance, they get their asses beat, and then Goku tells Piccolo to kill him along with Raditz and who was he to pass up the opportunity?

Then Piccolo kidnaps Gohan trains him to face the saiyans while Goku trains away in the afterlife, a year goes by, the saiyans attack, Piccolo dies protecting Gohan and Goku shows up minutes later.

Then the first time they see each other since Raditz is a month later on Piccolo's home planet fighting a new more powerful enemy. And then they suddenly just become best friends? Like no talk about hey remember when you killed me did you actually mean to do that because I killed your dad? Or did you bond with Gohan as a way to alleviate your guilty conscience of taking his dad? Piccolo says nothing

I just find it so funny how they speed run enemies to battle partners to straight up best friends all without ever discussing their initially dodgy past. Same with Krillin honestly but more prominently with Goku.

THIS RIGHT HERE...perfection.

I don't have much to add as you've put it all succinctly, but it DOES seem like a really great area of comic dialogue to explore! Great food for thought 🤔

By the way, the very end of DBZ Kakarot has a small scene with Piccolo coming back to fight with Goku after the Buu events, as they'd never addressed it! Here it is if you're interested:

[harrison-abbott]

I was watching this detective show earlier.

One of the detectives is a woman, the main character, and her partner detective is a man. They’re investigating human trafficking. And are suspicious about what’s going down at the docks. They fear something dodgy might be going on with the shipping containers.

And somehow they get word that one ship through a container into the sea. So they have the container pulled up from the sea. And they open it with a crew of other men.

I mean, it was done pretty well, and this happened maybe 3/4s the way through the episode. And it was dramatic, tense stuff.

Basically, they find a bunch of skeletons inside the container and it’s all grizzly and upsetting. And then the main character woman detective gets in her car and drives away. She goes on a drive out of the city to try and clear her head and she’s gone for a long time.

When she gets home, the partner detective is waiting for her outside the front door. He said he was worried about her. She invites him into her flat.

And the whole mood changes when inside. They’re both looking at each other and there’s mellow light, and their voices go dreamy as they speak.

I was thinking, ‘Oh, no. No, don’t make it a romantic scene.’

And, sure enough, the man goes towards her, hesitantly, and touches her hair – and then they lean in, and lightly kiss, every so faintly. She then breaks out of her trance and jars away from him. Somebody else then comes into the flat and breaks the scene.

I just thought: both of these people have just seen a bunch of skeletons in a shipping container a few hours ago. As in, murdered dead bodies. And a few hours later they’re showing sexual vibes for each other? Jeepers. How on earth could they be in a sexy mood after witnessing something like that?

It wasn’t just in this TV show that I’ve noticed stuff like that. Where some kind of erotic thing pops up totally randomly and has nothing to do with the rest of the story. And – as I say – this specific show is good. I’m still gonna watch it: only I found it bizarre that such a moment came up after the skeletons bit. Bizarre.

[yesterdanereviews]

Invisible Dad (1998)

Film review #623

Director: Fred Olen Ray

SYNOPSIS: Andrew Bailey often moves around the country thanks to his job, with his son Doug. Arriving in their new home, Doug finds a strange device in the garage left by the former occupant. Hooking it up to his computer, he finds it can grant his wishes whenever he wears the headset to communicate with it. When he inadvertently turns his dad invisible, chaos ensues as Doug has to find a way to turn him back.

THOUGHTS/ANALYSIS: Invisible Dad is a 1998 sci-fi children's film. It is somewhat a sequel to the 1996 film Invisible Mom by the same director, but features none of the original cast or settings. Invisible Mom II was released in 1999 (reviewed previously) is perhaps the true sequel, as it features the original cast and continues their story, so this film just exists in a strange void with no real continuity to the "franchise" (if we can call it that). Anyway, the plot this time concerns Andrew Bailey and his son Josh, who have to move around often due to Andrew's work as an architect. In their new house, Josh finds some strange inventions in the garage left by the former occupant, one of which he hooks up to his computer. It turns out that this computer can grant any wish by simply speaking into the headset. By anything, I mean anything: Josh manages to make food appear out of thin air, teleport a model directly to his bedroom, and even travel back in time. When Josh's Dad finds out about it, he tells him to destroy it because it causes too much trouble. Unfortunately, Josh wishes his dad would "just disappear" just before he destroys the device, and he turns invisible. With no way to turn back visible, they must find a way to fix the device.

There's inherently some issues with the story here: The most glaring one is that Josh finds a device that can do anything: time travel, make anything appear, the works. The fact that the film is just about one man turning invisible is a bit underwhelming when you've already established everything else. Josh tries to plead with his Dad that they could print infinite money or anything, but he simply says it is too much trouble, which is a very weak cop-out. The film goes through all the expected tribulations of being invisible, with no real surprises in that regard. There's a scene where Josh and his Dad are at a restaurant, with Andrew covered in clothes to hide the fact that he is invisible, and they are constantly interrupted by a man who cracks mean-spirited "jokes" after every line of dialogue; I mean, really nasty remarks about how ugly he probably he underneath all those clothes. It's really odd for a kid's film. Anyway, on top of the whole invisible thing, there's also the sub-plot concerning Andrew's job as an architect, and him needing to turn visible before his colleague steals his idea, and also before said colleague contracts a dodgy builder to build the project using sub-standard materials that will probably collapse and kill whoever is inside. Add in the romance sub-plot, and also the inventing partner of the guy who made the device, who now resides somewhere in the jungles of Africa, and you've got a film that is trying to do way too much. Lots of the plot elements get lost in the mix, and the whole invisible thing doesn't really get enough time or attention to be interesting.

The characters don't really have anything interesting about them: Josh is a typical lead whose Mom has passed away and he carries around a photo of her and such. It's not too traumatic for kid's. His Dad is a workaholic, and doesn't take kindly to being invisible. There's also Sandy's teacher, who he tries to set up with his Dad, who doesn't really have much of a role to play. However, Josh keeps constantly telling us how hot she is in his narration, which is a bit weird for a kid. Combine this with the pretty dire acting, and you've got nothing redeemable on this front.

Aside from the previously mentioned scene of the men-spirited harassment in the restaurant scene, there's other parts of the film which are morally dubious too. there's the dodgy contractor who is planning to kill Andrew to get his cheap material on the project he is working on, which never gets beyond meagre threats, but is still an odd addition. There's also a part of the film where Josh literally goes shoplifting for computer parts, and his caught and thrown in jail. His teacher then breaks him out, and Josh's Dad just overlooks his shoplifting, because he was doing it to "help him out," which is a pretty weird message to be giving out in a kid's film, and also since his character has already been established as not wanting to get into trouble.

Overall, Invisible Dad is a mess. It throws too much into the mix and ends up creating a directionless mess. Even for a kid's film, there's just nothing interesting or imaginative for them to latch on to, and I doubt that it would keep their attention long enough. Probably the worse of the invisible trilogy if I'm honest, as while the original had barely anything going on in it, it was at least easy to follow and mostly harmless, whereas Invisible Dad is all over the place, mean-spirited in parts, and sorely lacking in humour or charm.

[kohakhearts]

biodad Giovanni-Ash content please! 🥺🥺

wc: 3 905 read on ao3

That kid is here again.

Normally, the boss encourages customers keeping their Pokémon out of their balls in the store. It makes them easier to steal, not that much of that happens these days anyway. It’s above their paygrade, James is always saying; Jessie knows he’s right, but sometimes she thinks the thrill of it alone might be enough to get her out of the slog of retail. At least for a little while.

The kid with the Pikachu on his shoulder, though—he’s a close second. He’s a nuisance, sure, but he makes their jobs…not fun, exactly, but different.

With one eye on him as he disappears into the kitchen department, Jessie presses down on her radio and mutters, “Twerp spotted in aisle fifty-one.”

The channel is tuned only to James and Meowth, even if it does sometimes get them in trouble for not hearing whatever stupid Cassidy with her stupid supervisor tag is ordering them to do. The kid and his dodgy little mouse are Jessie, James, and Meowth’s project; if Cassidy or Butch caught wind of it, they’d take away the only exciting thing that’s walked into Rocket’s Department Store in years. Jessie would sooner lose a limb.

Static fills her ear, followed by Meowth’s voice: “Locked on to target, meow.”

Shortly after comes a crash from aisle fifty-one.

Jessie switches her radio channel over just in time to hear Cassidy shriek, “Someone had better be cleaning that up!”

“Oh, happily,” she bites back into the radio. “Shall I polish your ugly shoes while I’m at it?”

Cassidy laughs in that way she does that makes Jessie wish she were close enough to punch in the face. “Of course, you are the authority on all things ugly, hmm?”

Jessie simmers. With rage tamping down her tongue, she can do nothing more than switch the channel back and stomp off to today’s crime scene. Surrounded by broken plates stands James, making a valiant effort to wrangle their energetic Pikachu pal before more damage can be done.

“Hey!” the kid shouts. “How many times do I hafta tell ya to keep your hands off my Pikachu?!”

He shoves James back against the aisle where the single glasses and mugs are lined up. Jessie leaps forward to catch Pikachu just as James’s shelf-stocking reflexes overpower him and he frees his hands to stop the wobbling before anything more can be added to the shards of colourful porcelain scattered across the floor.

With the ease of practice, Jessie grabs Pikachu around the waist with both hands and holds him up high as the kid tries to jump and retrieve his volatile partner.

He’s too short, though, and Pikachu hasn’t shocked her yet. She glances down at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You gonna clean this up, kid?”

“Why should I?” he demands. Apparently having realized his hopping’s not getting him anywhere, he finally plants his feet on the ground in order to glare up at her properly with all his ten-year-old might. “What’re gonna do about it, call your boss?”

The spark of hope in his eyes as he says it is what makes this kid so damn interesting. Clearly, he thinks he has some kind of business with the boss, but Jessie’s no idiot: she knows calling Giovanni for anything that happens around the store is as good as cashing in on a death wish, and as bad as this job can be, she’s not quite there yet.

“The boss don’t care about some broken plates, meow.” Meowth is standing back, away from the carnage, but close enough that the kid, if the way his eyes widen then narrow with outrage and thinly veiled disappointment is anything to go by, hears him loud and clear. “Gotta do betta than that, kid.”

It’s the same thing every day.

Pikachu squirms in Jessie’s hands, but she just holds on tighter.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she snaps. “What were you trying to do this time, twerp? Climb up to the rafters?”

Even as his trainer defiantly crosses his arms over his chest, Pikachu deflates slightly. Perhaps the Pokémon is fed up with this routine too.

“No,” the kid mutters. “Just tryna get a better view.”

He nods his head in Jessie’s direction. She doesn’t need to glance back to know he’s gesturing toward the window from Giovanni’s office that overlooks the store. It’s anyone’s guess how the kid even figured out that’s what’s on the other side; they’re tinted so customers can’t figure that out.

“And this is the aisle you chose?” James sounds nearly as snappish as he does confused. He’s a bit protective of the kitchenware; it is his department, after all.

The kid glares at him. “Well, yeah. Makes the most sense, doesn’t it?”

“Not when you’re the one who has to sweep all this up,” James grumbles. “Hold on, Jess, I’ll go get the broom.”

He heaves a huge sigh, then tiptoes around all the broken china. As he turns his back on them, Jessie squints at the kid.

“You can have this destructive rodent back after you’ve swept this up, twerp. That seems fair, doesn’t it?”

Pikachu struggles against her hold. When it’s managed to turn around and look at her, it growls.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” she snaps. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit. If you’re so upset, why don’t you make yourself useful and help out?”

She didn’t know Pikachus could glare, but this one’s expression is just pure loathing. Jessie thinks that’s pretty unreasonable, all things considered; she’s really doing the brat and his rat a favour.

“Pikachu—,” the boy starts, but Jessie pulls Pikachu against her chest and frees one hand so she can put up a silencing finger.

“Not so fast. You’re not allowed to use Pokémon moves in here, or did you forget what the signs outside say?”

It’s true, too; though the signs welcome Pokémon, they’re also very clear that battling will not be tolerated within the store. Besides, it’s bad manners to use moves on people, not that anyone seems to have taught the kid that.

She can see the cogs in his head turning, however slowly that may be. Just when she thinks maybe she’s made a mistake—that he’s realized she can’t kick him out without the boss on her side—footsteps approaching from behind her have all four of them turning to look. Jessie’s relief is short-lived when she sees not James but Butch on the other end of the aisle.

“Uh-oh,” says Meowth.

Butch takes in the scene with narrowed eyes, which lastly land on Jessie. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh, mind your own business.” Jessie sniffs disdainfully. “It’s under control, Botch, so back off.”

“It’s Butch!”

“Yeah, yeah, just get out of our hair, would you? We don’t need your big stupid nose getting in the way of our jobs.”

His cheeks redden at her dismissal, but he doesn’t get a chance to say anything before James turns the corner back into the aisle. He freezes, broom gripped tightly in both hands. Butch whirls around to face him with an almighty scowl.

“You two have made one too many messes on my floor,” Butch growls. “You think you can just clean this up and move on? Who’s gonna pay for all this, huh? I don’t know why the boss keeps you around.”

James swallows visibly. He grips the broom even tighter. “Erm…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jessie fumes. “The store can afford a few—”

But she’s cut off by the boy, loudly declaring, “It’s not their fault, it’s mine.” She glances back at him just in time to see him squinting at Butch’s nametag as he turns back around. “Er, Mr. Bunch, sir. I tripped and my Pikachu got a little freaked out and, well…” He gestures around them. “So I’ll help clean it up, and if I need to pay for anything, I will.”

Butch’s face ripples with conflict, and then crumples. “Fine,” he snaps, “but make it quick and then get out of here, or you’ll be sorry, kid.”

With that, he shuffles off, presumably back to wherever Cassidy is so they can gossip about what losers Jessie and James are.

James relaxes ever-so-slightly. “Huh. The twerp’s got a conscience, after all.”

“It is my fault,” the kid points out. “‘Sides, you’re not very nice, but I don’t wanna get you fired.”

Gingerly, James picks away across the floor until he is close enough to pass the broom off to the twerp. He chews on this for a beat, and then remarks, “You could have fooled us.”

At this point, Pikachu seems to have accepted its fate and is curled up against Jessie’s chest. The kid eyes them briefly, then accepts the broom with a short sigh.

“I don’t even know who you are,” he mutters. “Why would I wanna get you fired?”

“So you could make a direct complaint about us to the boss.” Jessie leans against the aisle, just out of the way of the ceramic warzone. “Isn’t that right?”

He pauses, surprised. “Would that work?”

“No,” she says, quickly, before he can get any crazy ideas. “He wouldn’t fire us, anyway. Though it may not seem like it, we are his best employees.”

“Not according to that stuck-up Persian, meow,” Meowth says mournfully. “But he just don’t know what’s good for him, that’s all.”

The kid sweeps a couple pieces up, then stops. His nose scrunches up. “He’s got a Persian?”

“My thoughts, exactly, meow.”

“What’s it matter to you?” Jessie tries to keep her tone casual despite the gnawing curiosity at her; from the way he glances up at her, she’s pretty sure she fails. “You talk like you know the guy or something.”

He sweeps once, twice, then shrugs. “Not exactly.”

James watches him, disdainful, then surges forward and snatches the broom from him. In no time at all, the ceramic shards have been swept away; the kid remains where he was, shoulders slumping.

“You’d think you’ve never done household chores before.” James stands back and admires his effortless work. “Spotless, isn’t it? That’s how it’s done, kid.”

“Uh…okay. Thanks. Anyway, I’d better—”

“Not so fast.” Jessie reaches an arm out to stop him before he can get close enough to grab Pikachu from her. Predictably, he shoots her a dirty look, which she steadfastly ignores. “Look, kid, you’ve obviously got something to say to our boss, so just spit it out already and we’ll decide if it’s worth the trouble, all right?”

He blinks. “Really?” Just as quickly, his lips turn down in a suspicious frown. “What’s it matter to you, though? Do I really have to pay for all this?”

James grimaces at that. It’s far from the first time the kid has broken merchandise, and he’s gotten away with it every other time.

“No,” Jessie says, a little impatiently. “Who cares? With how little we’re paid around here, I know they can afford to replace it. That’s not the point. You saved our necks from Bitch”—“Jess, it’s Butch,” James whispers, which she waves off with a roll of the eyes—“this time, so now we owe you one. You don’t even want to know the kind of ridiculous talking-tos he and stupid Cassidy try to give us all the time. I’d rather die than have to sit through another one.”

He considers this for a moment. “And you can take me to meet your boss? For real?”

“If you give us a good reason,” Jessie corrects, although she can’t imagine any reason good enough to disturb Giovanni.

And then the kid gives her one: “I’ve been tryna find my dad and your boss is the only one who can help me. I’ve never met him and this is my only shot.”

Jessie looks back on most of her childhood bitterly, but she remembers perfectly well what it was like waiting around for a parent who just couldn’t show up. And, dammit, if she doesn’t kind of sympathize with the brat.

“How can you be so sure?” James prods. “There’s no one else at all?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve done lots of research. My mom doesn’t talk much about my dad, so I had to take things into my own hands, and this is all I’ve got. So you see why it’s important? I’ve gotta talk to him.”

“Wow, kid.” Meowth sniffles. “That’s touching, meow. But the boss ain’t so friendly to strangers, meow. Might not be such a good idea.”

“I have to meet him,” the kid insists. “He’ll definitely want to talk to me if you just give me a chance to try.”

Jessie exchanges a look with James, who shrugs helplessly at her. She turns back to the kid.

“How do we know you’ll behave yourself?” she asks. “And your little friend here?”

“We promise, right, Pikachu?”

Pikachu stirs in Jessie’s arms, gives an affirmative but somewhat slurred “Pika” in response, then settles back down to doze off again.

She sighs. “Fine, then. We’ll take you to him, but don’t make me regret it.”

The kid grins. “Awesome! Thanks, uh, Jessie. And James.”

James blanches. “Now you’re on our side? After months of torment?”

“If I’d known I just needed to ask real nice, I would’ve tried that sooner.” His smile turns sheepish. “I thought you’d take me to him if I caused enough trouble, though.”

“The boss considers things that go on down here trivial matters,” Jessie tells him. “What’s your name, kid? He’ll want to know who he’s talking to.”

“My name’s Ash,” he says. “Ash Ketchum, from Pallet Town.”

Pallet Town? That little dump? It must be important to him if he’s coming all the way to Viridian City every day just to trash their store. Come to think of it, Jessie’s never even seen him buy anything here. Maybe she ought to rethink that payment offer.

But this too, she figures, is above her paygrade. So she keeps her mouth shut and waves their entourage forward. As she punches in her code to the staff door, she wills her legs to steady themselves, though to little avail. Few things truly terrify her, but Giovanni easily tops the list.

They are silent as they march up the stairs to his office, in a way that Jessie tries not to think is awfully reminiscent of a funeral procession. She doesn’t allow herself to think twice before knocking, and even manages to muster up an authentic-looking smile when the door opens ominously before her.

Giovanni sits ahead of her, not having moved an inch. How he opened the door, she has no idea; she can only assume it’s magic, which of course he of all people would surely possess in spades.

“What do you want?” he demands.

“Why, you have a visitor, sir! I know you don’t like to be interrupted when you’re working, but he assured us you wouldn’t mind this one time and, well, so we brought him up to see you and—”

“You were wrong,” he says coldly. “Leave at once, before you regret it. Don’t think a measly little Pikachu will change my mind.”

Jessie starts; she nearly forgot about Pikachu, still nestled in her arms. She hastens to give it back to Ash, telling Giovanni, “Oh, no, no, we wouldn’t bring you such a wimpy Pokémon, sir! This Pikachu belongs to the boy—your visitor—Ash Ketchum!”

Pikachu becomes alert right along with Giovanni. As Giovanni’s eyes flick over to Ash, Pikachu seems to raise its hackles. Its cheeks begin to spark.

“Ketchum,” Giovanni repeats. “Now there’s a name I’ve not heard in quite some time.”

Ash steps into the room, leaving Jessie, James, and Meowth in the doorway. Persian circles out from behind the desk, cold eyes surveying the boy and his Pikachu. James grabs on to Jessie’s arm for support and she is too stunned by the scene before them to tell him off for his strength of his grip.

“So it’s true,” Ash says. “You do know my mom.”

“Delia?” His lips twitch. “Oh, yes. We have quite the history, but it sounds like you know all about that now, don’t you?”

With his chest puffed out like that, Ash looks a lot less like the mischievous little kid Jessie and James have been cleaning up after for weeks now and more like a seasoned trainer about to prove his title and his worth. Suddenly, Jessie’s not so sure her earlier evaluation of Pikachu was all that accurate.

“I talked to lots of people, but I figured it out.” There’s a note of pride in his tone, which seems to amuse Giovanni, though Jessie can’t possibly imagine how. “There’s just one thing I still haven’t got.”

“And what is that?”

“She always told me my dad left to go on a Pokémon journey. Is that true?”

Giovanni pauses. If anything, he just looks more amused by this. He says, “I suppose, in a sense.”

Ash jerks his head toward Persian. “This is your Pokémon, isn’t it?”

“Yes. One of many others, but by far my most loyal companion.”

“Ouch,” mumbles Meowth, “that’s real low, meow.”

“There, there, old chum,” James soothes. “He doesn’t truly mean it.”

Jessie doubts that, but whatever helps Meowth fall asleep at night, she supposes.

“But I checked the registry,” Ash goes on, “and I never saw your name anywhere.”

Giovanni watches him for a long moment, stock-still. Ash doesn’t so much as waver under the intensity of his gaze.

At last, he relaxes, just a bit. “You’ll find,” he says slowly, “some things are better left forgotten about. Now, I’m sure the last thing you want is a job at this store. It might do you well to forget a few things yourself, if you truly care for your Pokémon.”

“Whaddya mean by that?” Ash asks indignantly. “I’ve been looking for you my whole life and I thought—”

“Then, you thought wrong,” Giovanni says smoothly. “You’ve got your own journey ahead of you, haven’t you?”

“Well, sure, but—”

“Then, forget about Rocket’s and get on with it. There are better things to waste your time with.”

Jessie’s jaw is beginning to ache from the way it’s hanging open, but she just can’t bring herself to clamp it shut; a glance over at James confirms he’s thinking the same thing she is:

What the hell has gotten into him?

“What’s so bad about this place?” Ash presses. “That Punch guy seems a little rude, but—”

“Don’t mistake that for an invitation,” Giovanni warns. “You will leave here and forget about it. Your mother did not tell you the whole truth, Ash Ketchum, or I’m sure she would have made sure you never got this far. I imagine she has her reasons. Me, I’m simply trying to…manage my business, as you can see. I haven’t the time for you.”

Ash’s mouth slams closed. He grinds his teeth together, obviously frustrated.

“Go on, then. Leave now, and I’ll forgot all your little transgressions in my store. Don’t think I haven’t noticed all the stock going down with no sales to account for it.”

Jessie shuffles on her feet, uncomfortably aware of how pointed those words are. She mentally begs the kid to just drop it and go.

No such thing happens.

“That’s not fair! Won’t you even try? I’m your son!”

Wait.

What?

James’s hold on Jessie tightens. She hisses and swats at him until he loosens up again, though he still looks like he’s seen a ghost, which…she can kind of get, actually.

“I’m hearin’ things,” Meowth’s whispers. “Tell me I’m hearin’ things, meow.”

“You’re hearing things,” James whispers back, dazed.

In their shock, they’ve missed Giovanni’s response, but it is enough to have Ash turning on his heel and storming out of the office. He pushes past the three of them without so much as a “Pardon me.” In his absence, Giovanni’s eyes lock on to them.

Jessie gulps.

“You’d best forget about this whole thing too,” he says darkly. “Keep an eye out for the kid if he comes back, because I’m sure he will, but whatever you think you heard here, you didn’t. Understood?”

“Y-yes, sir!” they all chorus.

“Good. Now, get out of here.”

They don’t need to be told twice; they scurry back down the stairs, only able to breathe once there are three doors between them and Giovanni and his wicked Persian.

To Jessie’s surprise, Ash is still hanging around near the staff door, and he looks up at them with an expression Jessie knows all too well.

“What a jerk,” he bites out. “I can’t believe you guys work for someone like that.”

“Hey,” James protests, “it’s not the best job in the world, but it pays the bills. Sometimes.”

“Not exactly daddy material, though,” Jessie allows. “Look, twerp, he may seem like a jerk, but he’s got the right idea. In his own way, it sounds like he’s trying to protect you. Some of his business is a little, well…”

“Shady,” Meowth supplies.

“I know that,” Ash says. “I really did talk to lots of people to find him, and most of ‘em didn’t have much nice to say, but I was hopin’ he’d prove ‘em wrong. Guess I shouldn’t’ve.”

“Pi-ka,” Pikachu puts in, with the tone of someone saying I told you so.

Ash scowls. “Yeah, whatever. Hey, I was wondering something.”

Jessie raises an eyebrow at that. “And you think we know the answer?”

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

“Well…okay, then. Shoot.”

“Just how much stuff would I have to break before it started causin’ issues?”

James winces. “I don’t like the sounds of that. Too much sweeping makes my back ache, you know.”

Jessie hums in thought, though. “Well, kitchenware is expensive, but electronics are even more expensive, you know, and that’s not either of our departments, so no one could really blame us for anything bad that might happen there.”

Ash’s eyes light up. “Electronics, huh? Well, all right. Why don’t we go check it out, Pikachu?”

Pikachu perks up at that. Jessie has started to get the sense that, as cute as it looks, the little rat really does enjoy destroying things for the sake of it.

“Awesome, let’s go!” Ash turns around, then stops. Glances back at Jessie, James, and Meowth. “Hey, uh…thanks a lot. I know I’ve been a nuisance, but you were a real help today. I really didn’t mean to bother all of ya so much.”

“No harm done,” Jessie says cheerfully. “See you around, twerp.”

With her blessing, he races off. He’s making a beeline straight for Cassidy’s department.

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose, meow.”

Before either Jessie or James can respond, Cassidy’s shrill voice comes in over the radio:

“We’ve got an electric Pokémon loose here! Someone deal with it before it causes real damage!”

Jessie giggles. “Like music to my ears.” Into the radio, she says, “Sorry, but I’ve got my own department to look after. Surely you can handle one scrawny little rat?”

There’s no reply, which is the best outcome Jessie could have asked for. Maybe things will be a little different without the twerp around making things interesting for them, but she gets the sense things are going to be a lot more fun around here for a while.

[wags-confessions]

A friend hooked me up with this acc a few days back when I decided to make a comeback on Tumblr after being off the scene for ages bc I was stuck in a boredom pit during a sick spell. Been having a blast reading stuff around here, and when I saw someone asking about interactions with a footballer, I thought, hey, why not spill the story. I knew it might be a bit of a mess, and I'm no saint, but hey, i'm not aiming for that.

Before meeting him, I couldn't care less about the football world. Zero interest. But some time ago, I met this footballer, and to this day, we're a bit of a thing, but it's nothing too serious, ya know? I mean, he's got his own life, but we're hanging out... or whatever you wanna call it. Met him through this friend who also filled me in on this side of Tumblr, lol. She introduced me to him because she's got a thing (nothing serious because he's never into anything serious lol) with one of his teammates whom, by the way, she met on IG. So, ladies, never trust them, alright?

I gotta admit, even though it might not look like it, he's a pretty decent guy, you know, chill and funny. Honestly, I met him when my life was going down the pan, and he came through in every way. But let's cut the crap, he's a footballer, living his own life, i ain't dumb and i'm telling u, the whole WAGs scene is a proper load of rubbish, really. Getting a bit closer to him made me see how everything's fake, how so many of them play the two-faced game.

Some of these girls are even fully aware that their partners are playing away and they just shut an eye and I get it, in a twisted way. But the real dodgy ones, the ones you gotta watch out for, are thos girls who are friends with the main squeeze of their boyfriend or husband's teammates, and at the same time, they're mingling with their side flings.

I'm not proud of this at all and being part of this drama, but I won't lie and say I regret it. I'm into the guy; he's funny, kind, a proper charmer and an ace... ya know lol and I can't deny he's got my back in many ways, u feel me? Honestly, his girl isn't exactly an a-list… i mean, tbh, she’s not a gem, she's a b*tch. Their relationship's been a mess, a total disaster nowadays, but, like, it works for them, and he doesn't need any more scandals after the old drama. Anyway, just felt like spillin’ the tea on this.

.

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

This kiss between Alfie Enoch and Eleanor Tomlinson is more convincing than the one between Eleanor and SH copied from “The Notebook” film

The Couple Next Door wastes no time in telling us that its psychodrama is heading nowhere good.

The new six-part Channel 4 thriller opens with a dramatic flashforward of Gone Girl-esque menace to a woodland cabin in the Yorkshire Dales. Evie (Poldark's Eleanor Tomlinson) emerges clearly unprepared for the elements around her, barefoot, in a negligée and on the run.

In hot pursuit is her other half Pete (Alfred Enoch) and her neighbours-with-benefits Danny (Outlander star Sam Heughan) and his wife Becka (Jessica De Gouw). Evie's crying, Pete has a gun, Danny's wearing an extremely tight jeans and jacket combo. It's all very dramatic, if a tad soapy.

Then we jump back to when this central quartet first met, as a pregnant Evie and her hubby move onto the Leeds cul-de-sac they will shortly meet that titular couple on. The drama bats off the inevitable Desperate Housewives comparisons in the first few lines of dialogue: "I'm sold. Bit Desperate Housewives, maybe, but it's nice," says Pete.

Like that show, it plays on the curtain-twitching and behind-closed-doors intrigue of suburbia, albeit sidestepping the humdrum nosiness and mind-numbing boredom that setting has been captured with on screen before.

Danny, or Tarzan with a Leeds accent and a vast array of muscle tees, welcomes the newbies to the 'burbs by taking their fridge into the house, which he picks up with the ease most people use to retrieve a milk carton from within the fridge.

His wife and yoga nut Becka instantly takes to the couple and when Evie and Pete lose their baby, they turn to their non-monogamous neighbours for support and a friendship between the core four soon blooms.

Danny is a traffic copper taking bribes on the side. Pete is a snarky journalist whose work speaking truth to power will inevitably collide with Danny's dodgy dealings at some point. Evie is a kindergarten teacher desperate to have children of her own. Becka mostly brings the good vibes.

Oh, and Hugh Dennis is also here, down the road from that lot, in the role of a lifetime as a creepy peeping Tom. His main characteristic is a hyper-fixation on Becka, for which he has a telescope station and an ominous Becka-themed folder of JPEGs on his computer, which he has conspicuously named 'untitled'.

Outlander's Heughan and Poldark's Tomlinson are both breaking their 18th century period drama moulds in this psychological couple-swap thriller. However, their chemistry on screen doesn't quite simmer in the way you hope it would from something billed as a drama in which its characters are "chasing deepest desires" and reckoning with the fallout.

It's just a lot of Heughan and Tomlinson staring at each other, often in a way that trends towards cringe as opposed to sexy. When the pair go for a joyride around the neighbourhood on Danny's motorcycle, the thing feels more like an F1 hot lap than seduction by scooter.

The pair told the Radio Times they never did a chemistry test before being cast and questioned what they even really achieve, but maybe the answer would have been better chemistry?

Meanwhile, De Gouw exudes the sexuality required as Becka, so much so you're occasionally left wondering why Danny gives a fig about Evie to begin with. Enoch is solid as the one who's not really down with all of this swinging stuff, questioning whether he's actually as authentic to his progressive persona as he assumed he was.

Both the couples sort of have better chemistry with their own partners in the drama – we get a fairly steamy no-nudity sex scene between Pete and Evie in the first episode, begging the question of whether there's any point in the partner swap that comes later.

A surprising highlight is Dennis with his dark, dead-eyed stare, offering a more family-friendly incarnation of You's "I'll love you to death" Joe Goldberg.

The chief notable absence when comparing this to those other shows is the gaping chasm where some light relief might have gone. Desperate Housewives balanced adultery and arson with both unintentional and intentional gags aplenty, while You has had the biting commentary of Joe's voiceover, particularly in its standout third season.p

But what it does have bubbling underneath the psychodrama is something fairly interesting to say about the way society views non-monogamous relationships, and the unconscious rules we largely abide by in coupledom, which here sex and desire throw into question.

Outlander fans coming over to The Couple Next Door in the hopes of more hot and heavy Heughan won't be disappointed, although this contains less of the romance and never quite reaches the sparky heights of Jamie and Claire.

Ultimately, Pete sort of said it best: bit Desperate Housewives – although perhaps not enough in the ways we would want – but it's nice enough.

She is not wrong! 🤫

She’s not impressed by SH, with zero romantic/sexual chemistry. Could be He does have platonic chemistry with other co-actors. But it means He’s very inconsistent in his approach. Sometimes it goes beyond his acting ability, and it's just the way he works 🤷‍♀️

[stmaryslibraryios]

number 13 in the series

Come Hell or High water by JD Kirk

Another DCI Jack Logan & team crime novel, in fact number 13 in the series.

A badly burned body is found in a tent near a remote lighthouse in the Highlands on the west coast of Scotland.  It turns out the victim has quite a few people who had a reason to want him dead from a loan shark to a powerful local politician.  The deceased is thought to be a local odd ball/eccentric.

Because of the terrain around the crime area and the narrow, windy roads the team decide to set up an incident room/crime scene office in a tiny room in the police station in a small village nearby.  Something Tyler is grateful for due to his constant travel sickness.  Their investigation leads to a local magic, psychic, sex, wellness Cult.  When someone has to go there undercover PC Dave can’t wait to volunteer but finds himself in a very embarrassing and later, painful situation when he is nude sun worshipping with the other members and showing a strange part of his anatomy to the sun….

Shona and Sinead are still struggling with PTSD after their captive/abduction incidents from their last case which we read about in the previous book. Which isn’t picked up on at first by their partners (Jack Logan & Tyler) but their being away overnight on this case brings it to the fore.

Tied up in the story is a missing girl from another police area whose DCI is called Harry Grimm.  The missing girls also become apparently linked to Jack Logan's case.

We have Taggart the dog playing more of a part in the stories as well now that Jack seems to have adopted him. There are some strange characters & events in this book. The hardcase local woman with the shotgun whose farm is next to the cults site.  The dodgy cult leader, the sleazy politician trying to avoid a scandal, and one of Jacks team running around in a giant squirrel costume chasing a villain the other anal sunbathing.  This latest case is quite bizarre.

For me it wasn’t quite as good as his previous books.  There seemed to be more focus on the banter and dialogue (amusing though it was) between the characters than actual police procedures and plotline.  I did mention about another missing girl elsewhere being investigated by DCI Harry Grimm.  The author of the ‘Grimm’ series of books is David Gatward a few of which I have read & enjoyed.  I am guessing these two authors are buddies so mention each of their characters in each others books.  Quaint…

review by Lindy

[investigationreport]

CRIMINAL AND BLACK FUNDS TAKEN FROM THE MORROCAN MAFFIA!

The directors of Maderna present themselves as high-net worth individuals in order to trick investors to invest their money but actually most of the money the directors have invested personally in Maderna come from shark loans they have taken themselves from dodgy sources related to the criminal scene and drug industry. Currently Maderna Fonder and it’s directors are in default of paying these illegal shark loans back in time and are chased by several individuals in from the Morrocan Maffia who have completely lost their patience with Maderna fonder and it’s directors and partners. Initially Maderna promised to clear the illegal funds for the Moroccon Maffia and convert it into legal funds after investing it in several real estate transactions in order to create a proof of origin for the black funds they have received from the Morrocan Maffia and other dodgy criminal organizations. A clear practice of Fraud and Money Laundering. This is the reason why the directors are constantly moving worldwide in order to hide their location.

Johannes Bertorp is the leader of the gang and the one who is calling the shots within Maderna. Very sadly his co-directors and close business partners have so far always trusted and followed Johannes in his decisions and his fraudulent business model because it turned out to be financial lucrative for all of Maderna’s stakeholders, except off course for the investors that have invested and did put their trust in Maderna and Johannes Bertorp and have consequently lost and are currently losing their money in the sophisticated scam developed and created by Johannes Bertorp and it’s co-directors. 

Johannes Bertorp is a severe drug addict himself and highly addicted to cocaine, a drug that he is using on a daily basis without any limitation. That is also the reason why he always appears nervous and hyperactive, has no patience and his speech is very stuttering and strange. However he has been good in convincing other people of his version of reality backed up by his co-directors and partners that he is literally abusing while they have been giving Johannes Bertorp the credibility towerds the outside world and third parties in order to exploit his targeted victims eventually ending up in destroying their life and business. So please watch out because before you know it you are in huge trouble and you are about to lose all your money that you invest with these guys and Maderna including risking to be seen and be convicted due to active involvement in their scam, fraudulent and money laundering practices. 

We are quite confident that Maderna’s illegal business is about to explode on short notice and they will not get a hold of their illegal and black funds any longer. Especially as every party and person that is or is about to be involved in Maderna Fonder’s fraudulent and money laundering activities is being exposed at the moment. Also the ongoing and upcoming criminal investigations are about to overtake the speed of activities of Maderna Fonder and it’s directors Johannes Bertorp, Rickard Fischerstrom, Fredrik Vinstock and it’s Spanish representative Dario Muriel. Due to our private and public investigations we are receiving more disturbing information and documentation on Maderna Fonder including on each and every party, person or company that is or is about to be involved or partnering with Maderna Fonder in their malpractices. 

Almost on a daily  basis we receive more disturbing and criminal information related to Maderna and their relatives also very often on even unsuspected and professional parties and companies that are involved and working for Maderna and silently supporting their fraudulent activities without even being aware of what they are involved in. The main reason for that is that Maderna Fonder and it’s directors have achieved to work and even hire some of the biggest and most reliable and unsuspected companies such as big four audit firms, tier one legal advice companies and laywers including reliable Notary offices in order to cover up their real and criminal nature and business activities.

That way they appear to be trustworthy towards other third parties and the business environment they are operating in and continue to scam and involve new victims in their fraudulent and money laundering carrousel that mostly result and ends up in people of good faith, companies and investors including affiliates losing all their money that they have invested. Their fraudulent working method is mostly as following: in the beginning they offer huge profits that are beyond the normal market conditions for investing money in their real estate and other investments where Maderna pays out some profit with only one goal and that is gain more trust from their investors in order to acces and obtain more funding and money from each one of their investors.

Once people have more trust in Maderna and have put more money on the table the investors end up losing their entire capital and investment. At that moment Maderna comes up with a storyline that the have been defrauded and are convinced that they will recover the invested funds trhough legal court proceedings etcetera. All this takes a long time and meanwhile Maderna and it’s stakeholders are hiding the money they basically stole from external parties in different jurisdictions worldwide.

[eurovision-revisited]

Eurovision 2007 - Number 52 - Maja Sazdanovska & Jovan Jovanov - "1, 2, 3"

In North Macedonia the national final is still held in Skopje, but it's not called Skopje Fest any more. It's now named Pesna za Evrovizija 2007 but has roughly the same format as it ever did - although hopefully without any rigging or dodgy audience voting. So far so good, and the results are OK. For the past three years, North Macedonia had finished ninth or tenth in the semi-final and qualified. That's every semi-final held so far.

This year's competition has fifteen songs including one from three people who've quietly been involved with Macedonia's success behind the scenes. Jovan Jovanov was the songwriter of Ангели си ти (known as Life in the English version), which was the Eurovision entry of the late great Toše Proeski in 2004. With that accolade alone, Jovan was a name in the Macedonian music biz. He is a song-writer and composer of many Macedonian pop tunes for a variety of different artists, but here he is singing.

His partner in this duet on stage is Maja Sazdanovska. She's been singing since she was five-years old, singing for children's TV, including the theme song for the fairy-tale series Во светот на бајките (In the world of fairy tales). She also sang backing vocals for Macedonia's 2006 Eurovision entry Ninanajna sung by Elena Risteska.

There's a secret third wheel to this duo. The song was written by Maja and Jovan, but also involved was Elvir Mekić. He was an up and coming pop singer who is about to hit the big time in the summer, singing a duet with Maja. He's also worked with Jovan, who seem to be best friends as well as co-songwriters. It's quite the talent thruple here, albeit talent that has largely been in the background up to now.

1,2,3 is techno-flavoured pop hit that sounds like it was pulled from the WipEout 2097 soundtrack. An urgent, electronic beat pounding straight from the year of the birth of the PS1. They've added some more Macedonian motifs in the breakdown prior to the last chorus, but ultimately this is chromatically dancing, hard pop that wants to get a little bit flirty and potentially dirty. Its hypnotically addictive chorus will buzz you from your wall-hugging and get you on the dancefloor.

And it's good stuff. Good enough for it to be released as a single afterwards, launching singing careers for Maja and Jovan before Maja and Elvir could go on to even bigger success in the summer. In the national final it didn't do badly either. It came fourth overall, but quite a long way behind the top three in terms of its score in the regional televoting.

Jovan, Maja and Elvir would all be back with further national final songs being written. Both Jovan and Maja would have more Eurovision appearances in the future - Jovan writing two more Macedonian entries (2009 and 2011), with Maja providing more backing vocals, this time for the legend Kaliopi for Macedonia in 2016.

To finish, it's the trailed big hit of the 2007 Macedonian summer - Maja and Elvir singing Opasno (Dangerous) from Ohrid Fest.

[allthebeautifulsouls]

KJC Server Exchange Letter

Hello! Thank you for taking a look at this: this will be my first exchange, and while I’ve listed some starting ideas, I’m really just excited to see what people come up with for my favorite characters. So please have fun, and if you happen to incorporate some of my likes along the way, that’s a bonus!

General: alas I love to watch my favorites suffer—a bit of whump and angst and the subsequent hurt/comfort is my favorite thing. However! Also big on the comfort part of hurt/comfort—I love protective relationships, and characters that take care of each-other. Smart characters, characters with richly developed interior lives, elaborate worldbuilding—all are keys to my heart.

Lighter fare: I love it when two highly competent, emotionally intelligent characters love each-other deeply and continually invest in their relationship—how do two adults show their love through their small daily rituals? Love that vibe. Also love fics that can exist tucked into canon—pre-canon or a missing scene, etc (not as big a fan of alternate pov/rehashing an existing scene). Also: case fic and mission-oriented fic are also some of my favorites! High stakes, a bit of adventure, a bit of danger, the thrill of getting away with success, someone swooping in to save the day when all seems lost, etc etc. Finally, I love some good ol’ fashioned rumination—slice of life and melancholic/meditative introspection are a delight. Sex is fun but not at all necessary, I just want to spend more time with my favorite characters!

Darker/my current fav manner of idfic: one character is in trouble—attacked, assaulted, abducted, etc.—and the other goes near feral rescuing them. Or a twist on the same: a character who has undergone trauma in the past (Dom with his previous alley mistakes, Kim with his everything) runs into a similar encounter in the present, is afraid that the same thing will happen again BUT this time their partner changes the narrative by swooping in, letting loose their rage on the assailant, etc. etc. Or yet another variation: a character who has had bad experiences before voluntarily doing so again in order to save/help/protect someone else (e.g. an undercover honeypot mission with some dodgy characters).

DNW: bi-erasure, modern highschool/college AU, Soulmate AU, A/B/O (I can enjoy it, but not what I’m looking for atm), Sentinel/Guide, etc (most other-universe or ahistorical AUs, with the exception being that I love seeing Silas enmeshed in different radical causes throughout history). Specific kink DNW: scat, vomit, mpreg, incest

Group 1A: Dom/Silas centered smut

Dominic Frey/Silas Mason & Onlookers

Dominic Frey/Silas Mason/Gangbang Participants & Gangbang Onlookers

Dominic Frey/Silas Mason/John Raven

Dominic Frey/Silas Mason/Jonathan Shakespeare(/Will Quex/Others)

Dominic Frey/Silas Mason

Gabriel Ashleigh/Dominic Frey/Silas Mason/Francis Webster

For lighter fare, let these two nerds talk about books! I love how they bonded over their shared love for ideas and literature, and how they deeply respect each-other as intellectual equals

Otherwise: Dom somewhat canonically wants a gangbang, I say give the man what he wants! Canon typical consensual nonconsent, rough sex, dom/sub dynamic, etc etc. Other kinks I particularly like: bondage, praise kink, face slaps, hair-pulling, sub floating in sensation/sub-space, consensual drugged/intoxicated sex, consensual somnophilia, etc. I love the idea of Silas planning something elaborate for Dom out of love, and hand in hand with his harsh words and harsh conduct being fiercely protective and wholly focused on taking care of him throughout the group scene. 

Group 1B: Dom whump, protective Silas

Dominic Frey/Silas Mason

Dominic Frey/Original Male Character(s)

Dom whump pre-canon and pre-Silas—maybe he had an encounter in which he actually felt afraid and trapped. Or a deep dive into what his self destructive head space actually felt like. Or perhaps the ramifications of his pre-Silas days catching up with him: he encounters someone or some group from before, who assumes that the situation is still the same and tries to rough Dom up/take advantage of him, but Silas swoops through and sets them straight, etc.

Group 1C: Silas-centered, protective Silas

Dominic Frey/Silas Mason

Richard Vane & Silas Mason

Solo: Silas Mason

Silas Mason & David Cyprian

Silas is my absolute favorite character. He’s conscientious, intellectual, kind—constantly putting himself in danger to protect others, willing to stand up for what’s right even when everyone’s against him. I’d just like to spend more time with him in his own head (and not just through Dom’s eyes). Silas experiences a lot of loss and adjustment, so while the book gets a HEA, I’d love to see him actually process it, alone and in the context of his relationship. Does he resent Dom at all for this devil’s bargain Cyprian’s struck? I love Dom and I’d still want him to be characterized as good, but I’d love to see how they come to terms with what has happened, process it, and then move forward together.

On another note, Silas’s and David’s friendship is my favorite non-romantic relationship of the series. I love how they respect and tease and support each other as they both acknowledge the peculiar lives they lead (and lovers they have). I’d love to read something about them looking out for and being friends with each other. I do love Silas’s protective nature, and I’d love to read about him being protective of David, who works so hard to be perceived as invulnerable and omnipotent and yet is still human. I think it’d be really lovely to see Silas supporting David in a moment when David struggles to ask for help or Silas protecting David in a way that Richard cannot. Perhaps a moment inspired by the handsy Lord Artlett referenced in “A Confidential Problem”— to tell Richard that someone hurt David would get him so angry that he could jeopardize the web of protection for all the Ricardians, and David isn’t in the right headspace to fix everything, so Silas intervenes and takes care of it. I’d also just love to see Richard coming to terms with the fact that—despite finding Silas and his politics infuriating—he deeply respects Silas and his devotion to his loved ones and his principles, which could follow a moment where Silas is protective of David and/or Dom.

Group 2: Kim/Will centered, protective Will, Kim whump

Kim Secretan/Original Male Character(s)

Kim Secretan/Bad Topping Mistake

Kim Secretan/Lord Waring

Will Darling/Kim Secretan

Solo: Kim Secretan

Archie Curtis/Daniel da Silva & Will Darling/Kim Secretan.

I’m here for the Kim whump and angst! I love exploring Kim’s self-destructive and self-sacrificing tendencies—some introspection during his pre-Will days would be interesting. For protective Will, it’d be fun to see Will actually taking on the much-discussed queue of past lovers who have hurt Kim/made him feel bad about his desires. I also love the angst that comes from a honeypot mission, or Kim putting himself in danger to protect someone else. For double the whump, perhaps both Daniel and Kim are in trouble (perhaps one of them gives themself up in an unsuccessful attempt at self-sacrifice to save the other) and Archie and Will team up and go on the war path to save them.

If you've made it this far, thanks! These are all just ideas, so even if you'd like to hare off in another direction, I'm excited to see what you come up with!

[hellfireconcert]

There was an almost pained smile on her lips when Steve suggested her partner would actually treat her well, she knew he didn't treat her great but she didn't think she deserved any better, especially now. "We've been together for like...five maybe six years now?" She started dating this, definitely too old for her, man around fourteen, having met him at a dodgy basement gig.

"I'm sure you'll meet someone soon, you're a cute guy, we just gotta get you out there, maybe go to a gig with me some time," she knew metal wasn't his scene, but she thought he'd enjoy it if he gave it a try, and metal girls were hot so surely he'd find someone he liked, right? But her suggestion sounded almost as though she was asking him on a date, perhaps if she wasn't taken she might have...Steve made her feel seen and she liked that, but it also gave her conflicting feelings. "This'll actually be the first time out since...everything happened," she had to admit she was worried about the safety of her stomach as it was still healing, but moreso worried her boyfriend would find her repulsive now with all the injuries, especially the one on her face and chest.

There was that feeling in his gut again, the twisting knots. For a moment Steve wondered if it was his emotions or if it was his stomach crying out for a bathroom break. Again, he mentally shook the thoughts away, opting to fidget with a piece of receipt paper on the counter. So Emily did have a date. That shouldn't be surprising: She was incredibly good looking, charming, funny. Why wouldn't she? The question earned a chuckle in response, Steve shaking his head at that. "Nah, no firecracker girls. I think my old 'King Steve' charm has finally worn off. Maybe from back when I worked at Scoops. But being alone isn't so bad, I guess. Leaves me with more...free time?" Steve replied, almost wanting to cringe at how lame that sounded. "But...I'm happy for you. You deserve someone to treat you nice and take you out places. They're lucky, whoever they are."

[bits-and-babs]

𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐞 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Other Joel Fics: Atta Girl [10.2K], PlayBoy [3K]

Summary: A betrayal causes both you and Joel to fight for your life.

Word Count: 5.1K!

CW: In order: Horror themes. Bodies. Gory imagery, fighting infected. Wearing Joel’s clothes. Fluffiest, softest, sappiest, most tooth rotting smut. Orgasm denial. Fingering. I have been a fan of the game for YEARS, given it is the first episode of TLOU TV I am basing most of Joel’s character off game Joel. Gif credit unknown.

Tease: “… You’re not wearin’ anythin’ under that, are you?” He whispers.

The static firework-like display of spores ejecting from the corpse slumped against the opposite wall had captured your attention despite the delicate situation you found yourself in. The tendrils of fungus creep up the walls, painting them with streaks of muted peaches and reds, not unlike human flesh. It bursts from the fruiting body as violently as a bomb going off. You suppose that’s what it is, a bomb detonating slowly, killing those that breathe in the cordyceps spores.

Your gas mask sits tight on your face, digging into the skin of your nose to effectively create an airtight seal to prevent the malignant disease from entering your lungs and turning you from the inside out. Even through the dirtied visor of your mask, you can see that the corpse has fused to the ground and wall it was once sat up against, calcifying to the brick and plaster. It’s reaching its final stages of the infection: complete takeover, encroaching upon any space it can find. You didn’t doubt that in 6 months it would fill the whole room.

Despite the crawling sensation that itches across your skin at the idea of fungus creeping from your body in the cover of darkness, you couldn’t deny the morbid beauty of the scene before you. It oddly reminds you of different breeds of coral, like the kind that clings to the Great Barrier Reef. There are tan-coloured, fan-like protrusions, long strands of crimson and tubal fungi that bust directly from the chest of the deceased. Silvery dust spores glisten under the beam of your flashlight, giving the abandoned house you had entered an almost glittery effect.

“Oi. C’mon.” Your smuggling partner's Texan typically cold baritone cuts through the uneasy hush in the room. “We stand in this shithole any longer and we’ll be ambushed.”

Peering up from the putrefied body, you find Joel Miller gazing back at you, jerking his head to the door in a silent order to urge you out of the rotten room. Stepping away from the body, you walk towards the exit.

“How much longer?” You ask, studying his weary expression. The two of you had been travelling for hours, on red alert for infected or human danger alike. Outside of the quarantine zone was a death trap, and Joel always insisted you both never get too comfortable. Always be cautious.

“Half an hour tops,” Joel rumbles, holding the door open as you step through. His hands smear it with blood as you walk by, the ghost of his fingerprints leaving ribbons of crimson against the surface.

The blood had belonged to a medicine dealer called Cain. Joel had been working for him, the two of you smuggling the precious supplies into the quarantine zones in return for ration cards and weapons. You and Joel must have made ten, hell, fifteen runs for this crooked fuck, only for Cain to send the two of you on a dodgy mission. You’d both been jumped by the middlemen who were meant to hand off the medicine- when under duress, they admitted to ‘just following orders’.

It hadn’t taken you both long to find Cain and took even less time to dispatch him. Joel had taken his time and, as always, you turned your back on the shrieks of agony as Joel delivered justice. Though he had been particularly brutal this time around, the crunching of bones and cartilage was loud enough to be heard over the dying screams.

Said cries of pain and the extended period of torture had drawn the attention of several Runners and Clickers. They’d overrun the smuggling tunnels somehow, obstructing your return to the quarantine zone and safety. It had been the fight of your life, and the two of you were damn near out of ammunition and energy to battle the waves of infected.

“You okay?” You croak, almost afraid to speak into the silence between the two of you as you stumble through the darkness, navigating using only the dying light of Joel’s torch. A small reprieve from the onslaught of runners.

“Yeah,” he grunts, his eyes drifting over in your direction. “Wanna get home. Think I hurt my ankle back there, fighting the clicker.” If it hurts enough to admit it, it must be bad. Yet Joel maintains a strong pace, refusing to allow the pain to slow him down. He was stubborn like that, the two of you always arguing about his thick-headed disposition.

You nod in silence, eyes on the floor and focusing on not tripping over loose bricks despite running this smuggling tunnel with Joel for years. It was probably so familiar that you could walk it blindfolded. The walls of this small passage had seen the slow and subtle changes in the dynamics of your relationship.

It had seen the beginnings of your partnership and witnessed you constantly vying for Joel’s approval to extend the coalition you had fought so hard to convince him for. The cracks in the walls had observed the slow-growing kinship between the two of you, jokes told and three-sentence conversations shared. The shards of glass swept into the corners of the floor had heard the difficulty you both had continuing those discussions after you had stupidly gotten drunk on this old whiskey Joel had found, kissing him in the early hours of the morning when he finally carried you to bed.

That was a few weeks ago, and he still hadn’t been able to maintain eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. Like a child unable to look into his mother's eyes when telling a lie.

Grabbing ahold of the cold handle of the metal door ahead of you, you force it down to open it. The door jams on the opposite side, not moving despite putting all of your weight behind it to the point the edges of the handgrip leave a rectangular imprint in your palm.

“Joel?” You call him, “Gonna need you to open this.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he responds, the same way he always has. He steps forward, the soles of his boots scuffing the floor as he approaches.

Joel shifts his shoulder against the flat of the door, hooking the handle downwards with his calloused, bloody palm and uses his strength to push against the blockage. The hinges of the door strain under the pressure, squealing in the silence as Joel grits his teeth.

He grunts loudly, heaving the door so the obstruction falls away from the entrance, clattering to the floor with a racket that ricochets off the wall. It echoes all the way down the corridor. You freeze, the deafening sound causing the hair on your forearms to stand on end.

The chill on your skin only intensifies with the blood-curdling groans that sound from the blackness.

“Fuck-“ you stammer, Joel’s hand quick to settle between your shoulder blades to push you forward through the open door. Adrenaline courses through you like a live wire, singeing your extremities and curdling your stomach as Joel forces his way through the door and pulls the pipe from his backpack.

Amongst the panic, you still manage to note that a metal storage unit that had once been set against the wall had been tipped on its side, forcing the door shut. Joel had used it just this morning to grab ammo before heading out for the medicine drop. Someone had forced it over- didn’t take a genius to figure out who.

“Gonna have to run,” Joel pushes you forward, causing your feet to stumble as you desperately grasp for your rudimentary shiv. It slices your fingers open as you grab for it in the darkness, terror pushing your body forward in a sprint. You can hear the thudding of Joel’s boots just behind you, and the screams and wails of the infected as you chase you down the tight corridors.

It feels as though seconds and hours pass simultaneously, your lungs burning as you suck in gasps of air through your gas mask. Your muscles are seizing, cramping up and your fingers sting with the cuts that you sustained from your blade. Over the all-encompassing sound of shrieking from the creatures and your sharp, shakey inhale, you can hear Joel urging you forwards. “Go Go Go! You got it darlin’ keep goi-“

It hits you like a runaway freight train at top speed. Thundering into you, a Clicker knocks you from your feet with an utterly horrifying scream. Pain shoots up your ribcage as you slam into the uneven floor, a discarded glass bottle shattering beneath your body and cutting into you. You’re scrabbling with the beast, its nails digging into your flesh as you stab blindly at its shoulder, your other palm on its sternum to hold it away from your throat while you scream for Joel.

“Joel, fuck!” You sob in fear, the clickers jaws gnashing at your exposed jugular, growling and snapping. In the pitch blackness, you can smell the damp, mouldy scent weeping from the fungus on its skin, the metallic, bloody twang of human meat on its tongue that wafts over your face as it heaves its breath onto you.

Your biceps scream under the strain of its weight as you feel the fungal growths on its face lightly brush at your throat as the creature goes in for the kill. Just as you feel its teeth skim your flesh, a sickening crunch sounds, and a hot splatter of viscous blood drenches your face as Joel removes the blade of the shiv he had plunged into its skull.

“Fuck, y’alright?” His gruff voice shouts over the din the approaching runners make from down the hall. He doesn’t really give you the chance to answer him, grabbing ahold of your hand and wrenching you out from underneath the limp body of the Clicker before pulling you along in a sprint.

You sob with relief as you both turn the corner to the exit. Joel wastes no time, running ahead to force the door open so it’s ready when you approach. It swings open so easily as if it senses your desperation, and you launch yourself into the safety of the building that serves as an entrance to the tunnel. Joel isn’t far behind, slamming the door shut on the hoard and bolting it shut with a thick wooden plank that you’d both been using as a stopper.

The room swims, the image of the door swirling in your vision as you lean your back against the wall, taking deep, heaving breaths in what both was an attempt to feed oxygen back to your lungs and also to alert your body to the fact you were alive.

You barely have a moment to thank God when Joel is on you in an instant.

“Good Christ,” he heaves his gas mask off his face, blood-soaked palms taking ahold of your chin as his deep, earthy irises flit over you, searching for damage with a panicked expression. You note it’s the longest he’s looked at you in weeks. “Sure you’re okay? Jesus fuck, I thought-“

He’s twisting your head from side to side, checking your throat for bites. The infected are pounding on the secured metal door, but the noise is drowned out, faded as you watch Joel tend to you. You like him this close, you can see the freckles under his eyes. You’re not sure whether it’s the adrenaline of survival or if there was a crack in your mask and the spores had driven you crazy, but you are almost certain that Andromeda lies somewhere within the constellation of the minute spots of melanin.

“Joel,” you whisper, breathless for a whole other reason than the fact you just fought for your life, “Joel, I’m okay.”

You watch your partner hesitate for a moment, checking over you one last time before setting his lips in a firm line, his panicked eyes growing protective in an instant. “Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that again. Y’hear?”

Cross-legged in Joel’s bathtub, hours after escaping the tunnels, you use rainwater and a sponge to scrub the Clicker blood from your skin. Even now, years after the outbreak, you found yourself silently pining to the walls in the bathroom for hot, running water. They were no genie, and never responded to your wishes, but your wordless complaints often made you feel better as you scrubbed cold water over your body.

The droplets are tinted maroon as they run down your legs, seeping down the drain beneath you as you meticulously work each disgusting patch of blood from your skin. Despite telling Joel that the Clicker hadn’t bitten you, it still came as a palpable relief to scrub away the grime and not see a single mark in the crescent shape of teeth anywhere.

You did, however, have some brutal cuts across your ribs from falling into the glass bottle in the tunnel. They’re like lightning slashes, open and sore as you run a fresh washcloth over the wounds. At the very least, they were superficial and didn’t need stitches. The last thing you needed was to be burdensome right now.

Stepping out of the bath, you wrap yourself in a towel, scrubbing at your face with your sore hands. At least the slices on your fingers from your blade had stopped weeping blood. You’re sore, and mildly damaged, but otherwise alive. Alive. The proof is in the reflection that stares back at you when you glance in the bathroom mirror. Though- you certainly look as though you had just stared death in the face.

You open the door of the bathroom slowly, tentatively stepping into Joel’s bedroom. He’s sitting on the bed, slowly easing his boot from his sore ankle with a hiss of complaint. It does look painful, swelling until the definition in the bone was encroached upon by inflammation, and you have no doubt it’s been throbbing with pain inside his boot the entire journey back home.

“I think you’ll need to take a break for a while,” you gently urge Joel from your place in the doorway, who nods simply in return. Yes, he was stubborn, sometimes downright pigheaded, but he would never be stupid enough to go outside hindered by an injury. There were more than enough ration cards to tide you both over until Joel was fit enough to do another run safely.

“You can- uh, grab some’a my clothes from my closet, if you need,” he rumbles, moving to untie the boot on his other foot and avoiding your gaze. “Don’t want you to have’ta put your clothes back on. They’re covered in clicker brains.”

“Thanks, Joel,” you whisper, despite the shiver of disgust that runs down your spine. Slowly padding your bare feet across his wooden floor, you approach his closet. All of the shirts and flannels he owns are thread-bare, soft to the touch from wear. You grasp at a grey and black flannel, dropping the towel to the floor as you pull the comfortable clothing over your head.

Joel is silent, his back turned to you as you dress. Perhaps it’s from years of knowing him, or it’s seeing how tight the muscles of his back are through the fabric of his shirt, but you know something is amiss. The discontent rolls off him in waves.

Wordlessly, you climb onto the mattress, approaching Joel from behind. He seems to tense up further, even if momentarily before his muscles ease again. You stay seated firmly behind him, just outside of his peripheral vision as you attempt to breach the topic of conversation in a way that the stubborn mule of a man won’t shut down.

“Is it the pain?” You ask delicately, voice soft as a feather as you watch him feel his swollen ankle with the tips of his fingers.

“No. No, it ain’t, I just-“ he exhales sharply, as though he’s urging the words from his mouth, expelling them from his lungs. “No I just really thought that I’d lost you for a minute there, ‘n’ I just…” He trails off, leaving the unspoken words to admit what he couldn’t.

That he couldn’t bear to lose you.

You nod slowly, despite knowing he can’t see you, as the realisation sets in. He cares about you more than he shows, more than he lets on.

Softly, you lay your palm against his back, between his shoulder blades. In the low light of the bedroom, Joel’s silver hairs gleam as he turns his head around to look at you. You feel his nerves before you see them, feel the shaky exhale he lets out against your hand.

“I’m still here,” you whisper to him, capturing his gaze as you attempt to bring him down from the fear that must have seized him. You drag your palm down his back slowly, and in turn, he leans his body towards you at an achingly slow pace. Your stomach is doing somersaults thanks to the way he gazes at you, watching the nervous trail of your tongue over your lower lip.

“I know,” he answers back, his gruff voice so much softer sounding in this fragile moment. He inches towards you, and you can see the fine creases in the edges of his eyes, the constellations of his freckles even in the limited lighting. “I know I just-… Wanna feel it.”

It’s almost as though there’s a static moment, fizzling in the air as the tip of his nose brushes yours. He parts his lips softly, ghosting them over your own in a touch CW that’s barely there but sets your blood ablaze. His breath, exhaled through his nose, tickles your red-hot cheeks and you grip onto his t-shirt until your knuckles turn white. You wait for the plunge, for the powder keg of your heart lodged between your ribs to burst with his kiss.

Cautiously, Joel touches his lips to yours in a kiss that sparks up your spine. His lips are slightly chapped, his moustache and beard scraping gently against your skin as you lean into the kiss, letting out a soft moan of relief.

Your fingertips are tingling as you brush them up Joel’s neck, cupping his face to hold him there. He’s so gentle with you, like he’s afraid you’ll turn to dust in his hands. Joel has lived the past 20 years surviving, trying so desperately to stay alive. You’re not sure what that meant for him- the horrid things he had to do- but in this moment he’s so delicate with you, his knuckles brushing across your jaw as if those same fingers hadn’t squeezed triggers for two decades.

Working your own fingers into his curls, you feel the vibrations of Joel’s moans against your lips. It isn’t overtly sexual, it’s as though it’s a sound of comfort- of appreciation for being shown some tenderness. He responds to your touches by tracing his tongue over your lower lip, deepening the kiss and pulling you closer.

“Joel,” you whisper against his open mouth. He’s panting softly, hands moving to your hips to hold you in place like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. “Joel, lay back.”

“… Yes Ma’am,” he murmurs, a hint of a smile spreading against your lips. You find yourself relieved he didn’t argue, finding this nerve-wracking enough. It’s as though the two of you are inexperienced teenagers, fumbling with each other and fighting the butterflies in your guts. As brutal as the world you both fought to survive in was, there’s an innocence settling between you, nervous laughs shared as Joel lays back slowly against the pillows.

He gazes back at you as the crown of his head settles, holding his breath as he awaits your next move. Swallowing thickly, you watch Joel’s hand slowly reach for your knee. He swirls his thumb in uneven circles over your patella, gently coaxing you out of your shell. “You good, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” You whisper breathlessly, the soft and innocent touch leaving tingles in its wake. “Yeah ‘m fine.”

Joel, the hardened bastard that he is, doesn’t give much away. However, you see the edge of his lips lilt upwards at your less-than-convincing answer sliding his palm up the bare skin of your thighs. His hands are warm, calloused from hauling ass across the country and slicing open Clicker throats to protect you.

Swallowing thickly, you loop your thigh over his hip to straddle his waist. He watches you, his dark lashes dipping low as he witnesses you seat yourself across his abdomen. As you sit, the leather of Joel’s belt bites into the soft skin of your flesh.

“… You’re not wearin’ anythin’ under that, are you?” He whispers. It’s less of a question than it is a statement, those dark, mahogany eyes gazing up at you with a knowing expression. It’s intimidating, and you find yourself unable to answer with anything other than a slow shake of your head.

Joel responds with a low chuckle, tutting slightly as he brushes his palms further up your legs. They disappear under the worn fabric of his flannel, settling against your hip bones as his fingertips brush the curve of your bare ass.

Ever the gentleman, Joel stills his movements there and awaits your next orders, his eyelids heavy. You let a shaky breath escape your lips despite trying so hard to appear cool and collected, and you can practically feel the amusement emanating from the man beneath you.

Taking control, you trace the hem of Joel’s shirt and ease your fingers beneath it. Again, he’s warm to the touch, a human bonfire. It reminds you of the same level of comfort, the heat of the flames licking the skin of your cheeks in the cold autumnal air and providing relief from the numbing chill.

You don’t rush this, dragging the shirt from his body achingly slowly. Scars litter Joel’s skin, silver against the melanin. Sometimes large, wide and brutal across his ribs, others small and circular, barely noticeable. You notice them. You love them all.

Joel lifts his arms for you to raise the fabric over his head, and you reward him by pressing gentle kisses to the exposed skin of his neck. He hums softly at the gentle touches of your lips, his fingertips squeezing into the soft flesh of your hips. You’re almost certain he can feel the way you’re smiling.

“Mhm, Darlin’” he grumbles softly, using his hold on you to slowly grind your hips down over the soft flesh of his stomach, angled perfectly. It causes you both to stutter to a halt, your own pause caused by the spark of arousal that blooms through your abdomen at the friction to your clit.

Joel slowly uses one of his hands to grab the back of his flannel that you wear, sitting you up. His irises are inky black as he looks up at you, startling you into submission. Stoic, he says nothing, but looks pointedly down at his stomach to divert your attention. Uncertain, you follow his gaze.

It’s utterly mortifying. Across the tanned, freckled skin of his stomach is a silvery-pink scar. Following the same direction, a wet steak of your slick traces where Joel had pushed your hips down onto him. Shock and humiliation flood you all at once.

“Oh my God, Jo-! I’m so sorry-,” you stammer quickly, but Joel is grabbing ahold of the collar of his flannel with both hands, using very little of his impressive strength to pop the buttons on the stupid thing. The buttons go flying, rattling as they roll across the wooden floor and banging as they ping off the wardrobe. He exposes your breasts to his eyes, drinking in the view like he does whenever he sees a beautiful sunset while smuggling across the state. He stops and stares and takes it all in, just like he does with you.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about,” he insists, not allowing you to feel embarrassed a moment longer as he uses his grip once again to push your hips against him. Perhaps it’s the shock of his unfiltered satisfaction, or the arousal he draws from you once again, but you don’t find yourself fighting with him. Instead, you lean your head back as he directs your body exactly where he wants it, pushing your cunt against him and drawing delicious swirls of pleasure throughout your abdomen.

“That’s it Darlin’. Just relax,” he murmurs, clearly pleased as you begin to match his movements by rolling your hips along with his touch. Your palms rest against his muscular pectorals, nails digging in whenever he catches your clit just right. Sometimes he hisses in pain, sometimes he groans in delight.

The muscles of your thighs clench against his waist as the walls of your cunt flutter around nothing. Your jaw is slack, your mouth falling open as you crease your brows together and feel the surge.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel curse, the gravel of his voice tipping you ever closer, “I can feel your pulse.” He sounds incredulous.

“D-Don’t-“ you gasp, teetering on the edge of an utterly devastating orgasm. Your eyes are squeezed shut, focusing on that feeling that barely holds the seams of your soul together when he shocks you completely, using his strength to lift your hips from him just as your release bubbles up.

A sound of utter anguish reaches your ears, and it takes a moment for the pulse of your heart in your ears to subside before you realise it came from you. Joel is chuckling, kissing your trembling hands in an uncharacteristically soft move. Though- you suppose all of this is out of character.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel chastises you gently, in an almost mocking tone. He’s enjoying seeing you fall to pieces for him, even if it is just because you look so pretty over him. “I want you to look at me. Want to see it in your eyes when you cum.”

“Joel,” you wail, in utter disbelief as he shakes his head at your complaint. He’s not listening. Instead, he draws tight circles on the inside of your thigh. His touch is wet, your slick drenching the inside of your legs and showing how desperate you are if your impassioned whining wasn’t enough to convince him of your need to come undone.

“Listen here, Darlin,” he orders in that same tone he uses when on supply runs, the kind that makes you warm and fuzzy, “I ain’t gonna ask you to do nothin’ for me. Want you to feel good. The least you can give me is that pretty face.”

You swallow again, like you’re parched and only he can quench your desperation. Silently, in bitter defeat, you resign to a nod.

“Yeah?” He urges, wanting to hear you say it.

“Yeah,” you choke out.

“Good girl.”

Again, you moan out like you’re in pain, Joel rewarding your vulnerability by slowly slipping two fingers into your drenched cunt. You’re so worked up, so slick he doesn’t need to open you up. Your cunt takes the intrusion of his digits greedily, and your thighs begin to shake at the intense relief it grants you.

Agonisingly slowly, Joel eases his fingers out of you before plunging them back in. He doesn’t need to go fast, the drawn-out drags of his fingertips against the walls of your cunt enough to work up your arousal, but you know that he’s setting this pace to watch the micro-expressions on your face.

Your brows pinch together, and your lips form subtle shapes that indicate his technique is working. He’s watching your pupils dilate, your nostrils flare as you inhale sharply when he touches that spot inside you that makes your vision go fuzzy.

“Joel,” you wheeze, the dexterity of his fingers driving you very quickly to the precipice of something soul-shattering. The pads of his finger focus on that spot that makes your body tremble, and you’re sobbing above him, tears streaking your face. “Oh God, Joel, I can’t last-“

“It’s okay,” he urges you, so calm that he almost appears lazy as he curls his fingers inside you. “You know what to do.”

The bastard hurls you over the edge of the cliff he’s built for you, pushing the pad of his thumb against your clit. The most intense burst of pleasure explodes beneath your skin, streaming through your blood vessels as your body crumbles inwards. You’re not sure if he’s even circling your clit, if he’s moving his fingers because it’s so visceral that you can’t see, can’t hear, don’t experience anything other than the liquid heat that drips through you.

When you come to, Joel is humming softly, stroking his palm over the back of your head and easing you down from the clouds he sent you to with a gentle touch. You’re lying across his chest, his arms seemingly having pulled you against him during your blinding relief. You’re sticky with sweat, as though you’re coated in honey.

Joel smells like the apocalypse. Like earth and mud that has been wet with rain. The sharp smell of gunpowder clings to his skin, having coated the shirt he wore only minutes before. There’s the musk of his sweat, the tang that sticks to his skin despite the rain that you had walked home in after leaving the tunnels. It had washed away the smell of the blood and the grime but left every part of Joel.

“Oh fuck,” you choke out, and Joel can’t help but chuckle at the way you sound so fucked out. He presses a gentle kiss to your temple as he soothes your aching muscles from their contractions.

The rise and fall of his chest ease you down from your heightened state of shock, and your partner slowly peels the destroyed flannel from your skin. The thin bed sheets float across your body to give you some privacy, Joel wanting you to feel comfortable and respected despite him utterly destroying you literally moments before.

“That good, mhmm?” It’s said with Joel’s typically flat intonation, but you know he’s amused.

“Shut up Joel,” you whisper, still breathless. God, had he just stolen the air from your lungs? It’s as though every functioning part of your body has stalled, taken up entirely with bliss.

“Hell, you’re stubborn,” he mumbles, and it’s like he puts a spark up your ass, body jolting into action.

“Excuse me?! I’m stubborn-?!”

END

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