#//Either favorably or not. Bc that is a Lot to deal with either way

[dutybcrne]

It’s always so fun to explore genderbends for how the story gets affected

[neontaxidermy]

I love when old, bad, F&R choices can be made into old, GOOD, F&R choices with a small helping of making Jess a worse* person again

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l six

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: Joel opens up to you about a very traumatic loss; he makes a confession about his feelings towards you; you make a confession of your own and it leads to something more.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. fluff, infidelity, Joel and reader are having a full blown affair at this point, angst, talks of child loss (Sarah), lots of feelings come to the surface, two idiots realize they are in love. SMUT. oral sex (m receiving), size mention bc i will always be convinced our man is packing) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up pls), reader discovers she likes praise, creampie.

word count: 8.4k

August 2024

The next two and a half weeks that had passed by had done so without major incident, but things had taken a somewhat complicated turn.

You and Joel still manage to see one another a handful of times even with the exhausting amount of hours he’s been putting into his patrol duties, though it isn’t nearly as often as either of you wanted or would have preferred. But there was no other choice.

After numerous sightings of a group of potential raiders earlier on in the month, Tommy had no choice but to assign every last competent, able bodied patrol person, including himself, to work double shifts to ensure the safety and security of Jackson. He and Joel had come across the remnants of a campsite just about fifteen miles south of the settlement and they worried the group was hiding out, planning a violent, ambush attack on the community when it was least expected. Tommy had done his absolute best to keep the word from spreading throughout the commune to avoid causing a panic, but he found himself having to fess up when people went up to him and all but furiously demanded to know the truth—the real reason behind why their loved ones were now being asked to be on the other side of wall twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

Joel, who you’d come to learn is one of the sharpest and strongest shooters out of everybody in Jackson besides his younger brother, reluctantly took on the role of lead patrolman. He had been assigned an absurd amount of double shifts to work, including the overnight routes, making it almost impossible for you to see each other. You’d understood he had no choice but to comply, but still—that didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. Both of you tried to make the very best of what little time you managed to get together, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. As if not being able to see Joel wasn’t agonizing enough for you, the fact that he was out on the other side of the wall scared the hell out of you. The only way to keep yourself from losing your goddamn mind was to distract yourself.

You did everything that you could to keep your mind off Joel being out there. Burying yourself deeply into your work helped for the most part.

Besides that, Joel had asked you, as a favor to him, to keep a watchful eye on Ellie in light of his absence. You’d spend most of the day with her in the stables, you would have lunch with her in the mess hall along with Dina, and in the evening, you would go home and make dinner early enough to fix an extra plate of food for her so she had a nutritious homemade meal to enjoy instead of two decades old canned ravioli. You would take it over to her place and drop it off before Luke came home from the clinic. Ellie waited until it was late in the evening and he was asleep to return the plate back to you, and the two of you would take a lengthy, late night stroll through the town, keeping each other company for a while before heading off to bed. She hadn’t seemed to be all too concerned about Joel, but then again, Ellie had known better than you did that he could take care of himself out there just fine. If anything, you spending so much time with her had been more for your benefit than hers, and you started to suspect that just like Joel had asked you to keep an eye on Ellie, he had also asked her to keep an eye on you too. After all, you had made it abundantly clear to him that you were nervous about him being out on patrol while there was a possible threat looming in the shadows.

By the time the middle of August came around, no additional traces of the group had been found—they seemed to have vanished into thin air, causing a wave of relief to sweep through the town. Tommy and Maria finally decided to ease up and end the double shift assignments, allowing every single patrolman and woman to return to their normally scheduled work rotations. Joel went back to his usual early morning and afternoon patrol hours, which meant that the both of you could resume your clandestine meetings out behind the barn underneath the stars.

“I missed you,” you say, sighing out contentedly as you lean back against him.

You and Joel are sitting out on the large, vacant patch of field behind the barn, his soft, green flannel blanket acting as a barrier between your bodies and the itchiness of the grass the animals would graze on during the day. You’re nestled in between his long legs, your back against his warm chest as the two of you share the delicious, ripe peach he’d brought along with him as a surprise for you.

“Mm, probably not as much as I was missin’ you, sweet girl,” Joel replies with a hum before taking a bite of the fruit. Noticing there’s only a couple bites of it left, he reaches his arm around and holds it out for you, his bulging bicep straining against the sleeve of his faded black t-shirt. “Here, darlin’. Want you to go on and have the rest.”

“These will be out of season in a couple of months.” Giving a sad little pout to nobody in particular, you sigh again and sink your teeth into the peach. Through a small mouthful, you realize, “Who knows when we’ll ever get peaches around here again.”

Joel’s lips meet the spot on your neck right behind your ear and you feel him grin. “S’alright with me. I’ve got my sweet, perfect little peach right here. And I’ve got her all year round.”

You playfully elbow him in his chest. After polishing off the rest of the peach, you lick off the pit and toss it out into the distance.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to litter,” he teases.

“It’s biodegradable,” you retort with a tiny laugh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder and gaze up, admiring the stars that sprinkle the velvet night skies. “Or at least, I think it is. Come to think of it, I never paid much attention in life science when I was in FEDRA school. It was my least favorite subject.”

You gather your hair in your hand, bringing it over your shoulder to keep it out of Joel’s face. 

“Mm,” he whispers, licking his lips as his eyes fall to the delicate flesh of your exposed neck. He ghosts his mouth over your pulse point and his warm breath fans against your cool skin, prompting your eyes to flutter closed. “Just temptin’ me on purpose now, ain’t you, baby?”

“I would never do such a thing,” you object in an innocent tone, and he immediately clocks the smirk behind it. A comfortable silence falls over the both of you and while you’d normally welcome the peaceful, tranquil moment with him, tonight it feels impossible. You had gone so long without Joel over the last couple of weeks—at least, it had certainly felt long—and you realize one of things you’d missed most about him was the sound of his voice. “Ask me a question, Joel.”

“What kinda question can I ask, darlin’?”

Feeling brave, you offer, “You can ask me anything you want. No limits.”

Humming curiously to himself, he tries to think of something he hasn’t asked you before. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Really, Joel?” You snort, trying to mask your laughter as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin as he presses his cheek against yours. “I just told you that you can ask me anything you want and that’s your question? What’s my favorite color?”

“Yeah,” he answers, simply. “I wanna know what it is.”

He turns his head, lifting it off your shoulder to brush a gentle kiss to your temple. Joel could not, for the life of him, even remember the last time he’d shared this kind of physical tenderness with anybody. Forehead kisses, holding your hand, all sorts of little tokens of affection he didn’t think he could still be capable of giving to someone came to him so naturally with you. You had brought out an entirely different side of him, one that had been buried beneath his rough exterior for well over two decades, and the part that Joel still can’t quite wrap his own head around is that you’d done it with such ease. He’d go as far as to say that you had done it without even trying.

“So?” Joel prompts you. “What is it?”

“It’s brown,” you answer. 

“Brown? Why brown?”

“Because. It’s earthy, it’s warm—and your eyes are brown,” you state, grinning to yourself as you feel his loud laugh rumble through his chest and against your back. “What about you? I mean that’s if Joel Miller even has a favorite color,” you giggle teasingly, placing a hand on one of his denim clad legs. You then add, “Actually, I’m kind of curious now. Do you have a favorite color, Joel?”

Joel hesitates, momentarily holding onto his answer.

“I do. It’s purple,” he finally responds after a brief bout of silence. “Purple’s my favorite color.”

“Purple,” you repeat after him, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. “Really?”

Joel chuckles. “What? That weird or somethin’?”

“Uh, sort of. For one, you just don’t strike me as the kind of guy who would have a favorite color in the first place—and even if you’d told me you did, I would have never in a million years guessed that it was purple,” you admit, sheepishly. You trace a small circle around his knee with your finger and curiously ask him, “Why is purple your favorite color?”

“‘Cause. That’s my daughter’s favorite color.”

You scoff playfully. “Come on, Joel. Ellie’s favorite color sure as hell isn’t purple. Her favorite color is green. But red’s a close second.”

When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him despite being in such close proximity. 

“I ain’t talkin’ about Ellie.”

At first, it doesn’t quite register, but after a moment of processing, the pieces click together in your mind. Joel has another daughter.

Your smile vanishes and you slowly turn around between his legs to face him. Looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, you utter, “What?”

“Her name was Sarah,” he confesses, softly. 

Was. 

Your throat dries at his use of past tense.

Because you know exactly what that means. 

Opening your mouth to speak, words fail you and you close it. You suddenly remember the way he would tap dance around certain details of his first life in Texas. Whenever he would speak about his life before the outbreak, he would be cautious, careful to watch himself and his words. You’d known Joel had been keeping something from you, something he wasn’t ready to disclose to you for one reason or another—but never would you have guessed that him having a daughter would be the secret he had been hiding.

By now, you’ve turned your body around and you kneel in front of him, sitting back onto your heels. Not wanting to push him too hard or too fast, you clasp your hands together in your lap and wait silently—patiently—for him to continue when he’s ready.

“Sarah’s favorite color was purple. She’d wear it all the time. Her backpack, her school supplies, they all had to be purple or she wouldn’t use them. When she was nine years old, she begged me to paint the walls of her bedroom purple. One day, I took her to Home Depot after school to look at all the different shades.” He laughs, musing, “Didn’t know there could be so goddamn many of them. Anyhow, I told her I’d think ‘bout it. I went back to the store the next day while she was at school, bought a couple cans of the lavender shade I knew she’d like the best and by the time she got home, I had it all painted for her,” he explains, a sadness glazing over the fondness of the memory. “She loved purple. It was the color of the t-shirt she was wearin’ the last time we were together on the night of the outbreak.”

Your heart sinks. “Joel, you don’t have to tell me—”

“S’alright, peach. I wanna tell you ‘bout her,” Joel assures you, reaching out for your hand and taking it in his own. “I trust you, baby. Trust you more than enough to tell you ‘bout Sarah.”

Nodding, you lace his fingers together with your own. 

“I was never married,” he starts to say, knowing whether or not he’d also had a wife before the world ended would be a question on your mind—that’s if it wasn’t already. “I was never with Sarah’s mom. I met her in high school and we’d been friends up through senior year of college. We started to date then, but after a year, we realized we weren’t a good fit together. We broke up and a couple months later, we found out she was pregnant with Sarah. Her mom and me, well we both made an agreement to co-parent her as best as we could. Just a few months shy of our daughter’s first birthday, she realized she couldn’t handle raisin’ a child at our age. I tried real hard to convince her to stick around and keep tryin’ but I couldn’t get her to stay. She bailed out on me, but the worst part of it was that she bailed out on Sarah.”

He stops for a moment and you give his hand a gentle, but firm, encouraging squeeze.

“As if bein’ a father to a baby girl didn’t scare the shit of me, being a single father made it all feel so much scarier, y’know? I was young, in my early twenties. I was always workin’ so damn much, tryin’ to build my construction business with Tommy. Now I had this tiny little person to take care of, and I honestly didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna do it.” Joel pauses, his sixth sense detecting that your knees have started hurting from the position you’re in. He closes his legs together and pulls you to sit on his lap. “It wasn’t easy, and I probably made a lot more mistakes than I’d like to admit. But somehow, I made it work and it turned out alright. Sarah was my best friend in the whole entire world. Hell, I loved her more than fuckin’ life itself. She could be a handful, but she was perfect in every single way. She was my sweet little butterfly, my ray of sunshine on even the darkest of days.”

Swallowing harshly, you ask, “What happened to her, Joel?”

Joel sighs, resting a hand on your bare thigh. His fingers skim the scalloped hem of your floral shorts. “It was the first night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out of Austin. Me, Sarah, and Tommy. We didn’t know where the hell we were gonna go or what we were gonna do, but we just needed to get far away from the city. We got separated at one point when our pickup truck got into an awful wreck. I had Sarah in my arms ‘cause she couldn’t walk. She’d broken her ankle in the crash. Tommy told me to get her to the river where she’d be safer, said he’d find his way over there to meet us.”

Your heart begins to pound. Part of you almost doesn’t want to hear how his story is going to end—because in a way, you already know how it’s going to end. But if Joel is telling you about Sarah, it’s for a reason. He’s opening up to you, the way you’ve opened up to him. He’s sharing his heartbreaking loss because he trusts you—and Joel Miller doesn’t trust anyone that’s not his family.

Draping an arm around his shoulders, your fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck as you anxiously wait for him to recount the event that follows next, the event that will surely shatter your heart into pieces.

“The streets were crawlin’ with infected. One caught us in its sights and chased after us. Tried to dodge it through a buildin’ but it followed us, runnin’ us out into a field just a mile from the river. I didn’t think we were gonna make it—then, a soldier came outta nowhere and shot it dead. It felt like some kinda fuckin’ miracle. I thought we were lucky. I thought we were gonna get some help.” His voice grows hoarse, thickening with emotions he’s not too sure he can hold back this time. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was given the order by his command to kill us both, even though we weren’t sick. I tried tellin’ him over and over we weren’t infected, but it didn’t matter. He shot at us. He grazed me in my side, but Sarah—he got her. Got her multiple times. I was foolish enough to think it hadn’t been fatal. I tried gettin’ her up, begged Tommy to help me—but it was useless. Sarah died in my arms. Took her very last breath in some field outside of Austin.”

“God,” you whisper shakily, a sharp, painful ache shooting through your chest at the thought of him cradling his daughter’s lifeless body in his arms, her purple shirt soaked in crimson. “Joel, I don’t—I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Willing yourself to keep it together for his sake, you hold the back of his neck in your hand, fingers coaxing him to look up and meet your gaze.

“After that, I just didn’t see any point in carryin’ on anymore. I’d lost the most important thing in the fuckin’ world to me. I couldn’t see in the darkness now that my little ray of sunshine was gone. So, a couple nights later, I picked up my gun and tried to end my own life,” he confesses. Even though it’s been over twenty years, traces of shame still linger behind. “Put the barrel of a pistol to my temple. Told myself it was what I wanted to do and I pulled the trigger.”

Without thinking, you reach towards the scar on his right temple with your opposite hand, the one you’d noticed for the first time before he had kissed you in Ranger’s stall. You lightly brush your fingertips over the jagged, raised patch of skin. You’d wanted to ask him about it on several different occasions, but never had the courage to actually do it. Now that you know he’d gotten it from his own hand, it just makes the entire thing all that much more heart wrenching.

“M’sure you’ve guessed it by now, but I missed. I flinched and I missed. For twenty fuckin’ years, all I could do was wish I hadn’t missed. Spent a long time hatin’ myself for missin’ what should’ve been the easiest goddamn shot of my entire life. Then, Ellie came along.” Joel moves his hand, gingerly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “And not long after her, I met you, sweet girl. The two of you came at me outta nowhere.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering his first encounter with Ellie, the way she had flown at him with her switchblade clutched in hand only to end up thrown against the wall. “You both came outta left fuckin’ field and brought out sides of me I thought had been dead and buried for years now. You and her, you mean more to me than I can fuckin’ explain. You’re the most important things in the world to me now.”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat at his declaration. It’s not like you didn’t know Joel cared about you. Of course you know that. But the extent to which he did had been something of a mystery, at least up until this very moment.

“I didn’t know I could feel this way ‘bout anyone again,” Joel admits. He slides his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “Openin’ up my heart to Ellie, that was one thing. But openin’ it up to you? That’s been somethin’ else, peach. I don’t think you even realize the hold you’ve got over me and my heart. What really fuckin’ gets me is that you don’t even gotta try. All you gotta do is look at me with those eyes and give me that pretty smile of yours, and I’m fuckin’ done for. You’ve got me wrapped all the way around your little finger and then back again, baby. Y’need to know that I’d do just ‘bout fuckin’ anythin’ for you. You understand that?”

You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Joel,” you stammer his name, your nerve endings feeling like they’ve been lit on fire. “You really need to stop talking like that.”

“Why’s that?”

You don’t even think—you just blurt the words out before you can stop them.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The tables turn and it’s now Joel who is at a complete loss for words.

Embarrassed by your own admission, you begin to ramble nervously. “Look, I know it’s ridiculous. We haven’t known each other long, but I can’t help it. And maybe it’s for the best if you know where I stand and how I feel. You still have time to back out of this—”

Still holding your chin, Joel carefully brings your face toward his, silencing you by slotting his lips to yours. He moves to cup the side of your face in his palm, forgetting about any kind of softness as he greedily licks into your mouth. He’s kissed you plenty of times before and you thought you knew all of his kisses well enough by now, but you’d been wrong. This one is different from all the rest. His lips move against yours in a possessive manner, but not the kind of possessive you’re used with Luke. No, with Joel, it isn’t a possessive stemming from control and abuse, rather, it’s out of pure need, want, and desire. Even as his mouth devours yours, there’s still a sweet, loving tenderness to it.

“Joel,” you whimper against him. “I—”

You falter, unable to say those three words. There’s something holding you back—maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s knowing that once you say them, you can’t take them back. Not that you would. But it’s a big step, and you’re not quite ready to say it, even if it is how you feel.

And he feels the same.

He deepens the embrace.

I love you.

Joel might not be ready to say it either, but he hopes the way he’s holding you and swelling your lips with his puts your mind at ease and reassures you that you’re not the only one who’s falling.

You shift yourself in his lap, moving to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs as your mouths remain fused to one another. He reaches and grabs for every single part of you that he can, running his hands all over you from your shoulders down to your hips, dragging lower until they’re unabashedly cupping the delicious curves of your ass. You whimper in his mouth again and the moment your lips part, his tongue takes advantage, darting inside to start the heated, unhinged dance with your own.

You clutch at his shoulders, your fingers curling around tight around fistfuls of his t-shirt in an attempt, and a very desperate one at that, to keep yourself planted on the ground. You hold on trying to keep yourself tethered to planet earth, but with the way his searing hot mouth moves with yours in perfect unison, it’s impossible. You’re free falling without a safety net, and you don’t even care. 

Seating yourself completely on his lap, you feel the bulge of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans and the wetness pools between your thighs.

Letting go of his shirt, you reach around him and bury your fingers in his curls, lightly tipping his head back as your tongue explores his mouth like it’s the first time all over again. Joel tastes like the sweet fruit you’d shared, a strange mix when combined with the mint from his toothpaste. But there’s something else he tastes like and you’ve tasted it several times before, however even after all this time, you still can’t figure out what it could be. It tastes like Joel. That’s the only way you can think of to describe it. It just tastes like Joel and it’s addicting and you want it on your lips for the rest of your life.

After a minute, you and Joel finally force yourselves apart, your lungs and his begging for oxygen. 

“Joel,” you choke his name between heavy pants for air.

“Baby.” He’s about as breathless as you are, possibly even more. “Baby, please. I’ve gotta have you,” he pleads, hands now splayed on the small of your back. “Please. I fuckin’ need you. Or else m’gonna lose my goddamn fuckin’ mind.”

“Barn,” you rasp out, releasing your grip on his hair. 

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows knit together. “Barn?”

“Barn,” you repeat as you climb off of him.

You’re unsteady—incredibly unsteady. Knees wobbling, legs trembling and feeling like they’re seconds away from giving out underneath you. But you hold a hand out to Joel, exhaling a tiny, labored grunt as you help him up off the ground. Grabbing his blanket, you give it a shake before taking his hand in yours and leading him around to the front of the barn. Dropping his hand, you use both of yours to slide one of the double doors open an inch or two and take a peek inside to make sure the coast is clear. You then slide the door open a bit further, just wide enough for you and Joel to slip inside. 

“Wait a minute,” he chuckles as he watches you slide the door closed. “How’d y’know it would be unlocked?”

“I didn’t know it would be unlocked. I was just hoping we’d get lucky,” you admit, beckoning him for him to follow you. “Come on.”

Through various cracks and gaps and open windows, enough moonlight filters into the barn, shining a decent amount of light into the structure—enough so that it’s not pitch black and you two are left stumbling around in complete darkness.

Joel glances around. The last time he’d been inside the barn was back in June for the summer party. He remembered it having been cleaned and cleared out for the event and now, two months later, it’s packed to the rafters with countless bales of hay. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But as he walks, piles of loose dried grass and herbs crunch underneath his boots and he remarks, “There’s fuckin’ hay everywhere, darlin’.”

“Um, yeah. What else do you keep in a barn?” you jeer lightly, earning yourself a small scoff from him. “Hey, at least they don’t keep sheep and other livestock in here, Joel. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

Joel snorts, masking his laughter at the thought of walking into a barn full of animals instead of an absurd amount of hay. “Yeah, guess that’s fair enough,” he concedes. “Might kill the mood if that were the case.”

You lead him over towards one of the far corners of the barn, your eyes falling to a large, almost bed sized pile of loose hay. Draping the blanket over it, you stand upright and then freeze, your body flooding with nerves once you realize what’s inevitably about to happen between you and Joel.

You hadn’t done anything with him since the night he’d pleasured you out on his front porch. Of course you wanted more, so much more, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. You’re so much younger, hardly have any experience—you’ve only ever been with one man, and even then, it hardly counts. It’s been such a long time since you’d found sex something you wanted, something you enjoyed. Whenever Luke touches you, it makes your skin crawl, but when Joel Miller touches you?

It sets you ablaze, leaves you needing more of it. Of him.

Part of you wonders if your touch makes him feel the same. What if it doesn’t?

His arms wrap around your waist from behind and you exhale the breath you’d been holding shakily.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Joel murmurs softly into your hair, sensing your pensiveness. 

“I’m just really nervous,” you blurt out.

“S’okay,” he says, quietly. “M’kinda nervous too.”

You’re slightly taken aback. “Really? What are you nervous about?”

Joel rests his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve both crossed a lot of lines already, peach. But this one? S’gonna be the one we can’t come back from,” he tells you. “Might be what seals the deal between us, y’know?”

Slowly, you turn around to face him. “Yeah, I know,” you respond, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. “And I know I should care, but I don’t. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“S’wrong,” he agrees with a tight nod. “But I don’t care either, sweet girl.”

Before you can utter another word about it, Joel crashes his mouth onto yours. He snakes one of his arms around you and lifts the other, cupping the back of your neck as he ravages you with his lips and tongue, kissing you with such urgency, such desperation that it melts you into a whimpering mess in his arms. Your mind is hopelessly lost in a thick, cloudy haze—all you can focus on is breathing him into your lungs like he’s the air you need to stay alive. His hands fall down to the hem of your white camisole and his mouth abandons yours to pull it over your head. He discards it, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere behind him. He then pushes your shorts and underwear down your legs and you kick them off along with your shoes. You’re now standing before him completely naked.

Desperate to feel his skin against yours, you take the hem of his t-shirt and clumsily tug it over his head, eliciting a laugh from him. You throw it somewhere over his shoulder to join yours and your hands eagerly meet his warm, bare chest for the first time. Biting down on your bottom lip, your trembling fingertips brush over several bumps and rough, raised patches of skin that you know have to be his scars. He has so many, and all you want to do is kiss each and every single one of them, but Joel has other ideas. He pulls you into his arms, flush against his chest, and he holds you tightly.

More often than not, Joel feels as if you’re not real—worries that you’re just a perfect, flawless figment of his own imagination. He doesn’t know whether or not you’ve caught onto what he’s been doing, but he steals moments like these whenever he can, moments where he stands there and takes you into his arms and holds you without saying a word.

It’s his own way of reminding himself that not only are you real, but you’re real and you’re his. Joel doesn’t care about the fucking ring on your finger. He doesn’t care that you’re promised to another man. He doesn’t care that he can only hold you in secret, that he can’t walk next you down the streets of Jackson in broad daylight and hold your hand while doing so. He doesn’t get to share a roof or a bed with you and he doesn’t get to join you for dinner at the table every night—maybe this isn’t how he preferred things to be, but he just doesn’t care. 

It doesn’t matter to him.

Nothing matters to him except for one thing.

Your heart belongs to him. It bleeds with his name.

You’re his. You’re all fucking his, and only his, in all the ways that truly matter.

And he is yours. 

Joel chokes out a strained groan as you press your plush lips softly against his neck, your tongue swiping across his pulse point. You firmly suckle his flesh, hard enough to break the tiny blood vessels underneath his skin and once you’ve left your mark, you trail your lips down his neck, eliciting another strangled noise from him. You sweep them over his collarbone, then down the length of his chest, showing each scar you come across with the affection it deserves. Your teeth nip and scrape at the softness of his belly and you quickly discover that it’s one of your favorite parts of him. Lowering yourself to your knees, your nose skims over the trail of dark, coarse hair below his navel and your fingers suggestively skim the waistband of his jeans.

His eyes widen. “You ain’t gotta do that—”

“I already told you, Joel. I want to,” you assure him, your voice low, sexy, filled with a lust for him and only for him. You make yourself comfortable, a challenging feat since you’d overshot the blanket and are now kneeling directly on the itchy, dried grass. It doesn’t matter, though—you’re more than willing to deal with discomfort for him. You place a hand on his hip and peer up at him. Your eyes meet his in the milky white moonlight. “You made me feel good. Please, just let me do the same for you?”

The nod he gives you is so subtle, so quick, that you almost don’t catch it.

He’d grown tense beneath your touch. 

You can’t help but laugh softly—not at him, but at the fact that he doesn’t realize that pleasuring him isn’t a want for you, it’s a need.

Gently, you pat his hip. “Relax, honey,” you encourage him, surprised at how the pet name rolls off your tongue with such natural ease.

Your hands reach for the button of his jeans and you swiftly undo it, then tug at his zipper. You start pulling the denim down his legs. Joel helps you, kicking off his worn, black leather boots before stepping out of his jeans, kicking the article of clothing off to the side. Heart racing in anticipation, you slide his dark boxer briefs down his legs, but stop short, breath hitching the second you feast your eyes on his cock. You’ve felt him through his clothes before, knew he was well endowed, but you’re still shocked to see just how big he really is. The mere thought of his hard, thick length filling you up and stretching your cunt makes your entire body ache with need. You can’t be certain how he’ll fit, but truth be told, he could tear you in half and you would thank him for it. 

Joel draws in a quick, sharp breath when he feels your small hand wrap around his base. Just as fast as he’d breathed it in, it’s knocked back out of his lungs when your other hand joins in and you run your fingertips along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches in your hands—you’ve hardly touched him, haven’t even put your mouth on him, and he’s already teetering on the edge.

“Christ, baby. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, I hope y’know that,” Joel croaks, tilting his head back to look up at the rafters as he silently wills himself not to explode too soon. His hips involuntarily jerk forward as you lick his tip, collecting his leaking precome on your tongue before wrapping your soft lips around it. Another loud, ragged groan tears from the back of his throat as you take him in slowly, inch by inch, further into your warm, wet mouth. Your own moaning around him causes a vibrating sensation, making it harder for Joel to keep himself from spilling into your mouth.

“Fuck, peach,” he curses, feeling the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. He’s more than a mouthful for you, but you accept the challenge with eagerness and take him in further, gagging around him as drool dribbles down the sides of your chin. You, the same woman who just moments ago had said she was nervous about being intimate with him—whoever that woman had been, she was long fucking gone.

Joel’s eyes flit down and he sinks his teeth hard into his lower lip. He can see your silhouette as you work him with that pretty little mouth of yours. One glance is all he can handle before he’s squeezing his eyes shut, the pressure building in his lower abdomen and already dangerously close to reaching its peak. If Joel so much as looks at you again, he’ll come down your throat, and that’s not where he’s planning on finishing tonight.

You bob your head back and forth on his cock, your eyes watering each time he slips past the back of your throat—your cheeks hollow as you suck him greedily, and you alternate between that and stroking his long, thick shaft, your tongue swirling around his head.

Without opening his eyes, Joel reaches down with his hand and cradles the back of your head in his palm. The sounds that fill the barn are nothing short of obscene. His grunts and groans mixed together with the sounds of the moans you’d release in between your wet and sloppy slurping. He forces his eyes open and bravely takes another look at you, his heart slamming painfully against his sternum as you move your head faster, chasing his release as if you’re chasing your own.

“Fuck, baby—wait, stop. Need you to stop.” Joel’s hand leaves the back of your head and he cups your jaw, gently, but firmly, forcing you to release his cock from your mouth with an audible pop. “Ain’t gonna last much longer, not if you keep on like that.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask, smirking up at him as you wipe the mixture of his precome and your saliva away from your chin with the back of your hand.

Joel leans over and takes your arms, effortlessly yanking you up to your feet. His hand dives between your thighs to get a feel—to find whether you’re ready to take him or not. He slips two fingers between your soaked folds without so much as a warning, causing you to gasp out and grip his biceps, your fingernails digging into the firm muscle. Joel withdraws his hand from your cunt, admiring the way his digits come back coated with your slick. He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours as he lifts his hand to his mouth and slowly licks his fingers clean.

That alone nearly makes you come undone, almost makes you melt into a pathetic, whimpering mess at his feet. 

“Joel,” you say his name pleadingly. “Please.”

Sliding his fingers out of his mouth, he steps forwards and curls them around your wrist. “What is it, my sweet little peach? Hm? What do you want?”

“You. I want you,” you answer. You’re quick to correct yourself. “No, I need you. I fucking need you—I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life, Joel.”

Leaning down, Joel skims the tip of his nose against your cheek before bringing it down along your jawline. “Where, darlin’?” he whispers huskily, sending a shiver up your spine. “Where do you need me, baby?”

Your mouth falls open slightly unable to say it. You don’t know why you’re suddenly shy, flustered as if you just hadn’t been down on your knees gagging around his cock.

“Tell me, peach,” he coaxes you gently with another low whisper. “Tell me where you need me. Tell me where you need my cock, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.”

“Inside me.” Blazing heat floods your face. “I need you inside of me—I need you to fuck me. Please, Joel.”

“So polite ‘bout it, too,” he remarks. “What a good girl.”

Though he says it in a teasing manner, his praise nearly makes you collapse.

“You like that,” he realizes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Yeah, baby? Y’like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Fuck, I—yes, I do,” you confess.

“C’mere.” Joel wraps an arm around your waist, hand splayed over your back as he lowers you down onto the blanket. He follows suit. You both let out breathy laughs at the way your naked bodies sink down into the pile of hay. Propping himself up with his arm, Joel looks down at you, his smile fading as a serious expression crosses his features. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, finger grazing the silkiness of your cheek. “Y’sure ‘bout this, peach? Ain’t too late to stop.”

Smiling softly, you lift a hand to the side of his face, your fingers stroking his graying beard. “I’ve never been so sure about anything, Joel,” you promise him. “If you could take a peek into my mind, you would see how bad I want this, how bad I need this—how bad I need you. I don’t want to stop.” And you don’t just mean the sex. You don’t any of this to stop—the secret, late night meetings, the stolen kisses, the illicit affair. “I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you, Joel.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

Joel reaches down between your bodies, gripping his base, pumping his throbbing cock in his fist before lining himself up at your sopping entrance. Adrenaline courses through your veins—every nerve ending in your body is going up in flames. You spread your legs wider for him, hoping he’ll understand the nonverbal cue. He does. He begins to ease himself into your cunt and you hook a leg around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. The barn fills with the sound of his grunt and your loud cry at the initial stretch. He sinks his cock further into you until he bottoms out and you cry out again, feeling a delicious burning sensation as he cradles his hips between your thighs.

“M’gonna need you to relax a little sweetheart,” he whispers gently, ceasing his movements to give your body a chance to adjust to him. Joel takes advantage of having you pinned underneath him with your head thrown back and his lips latch onto your neck, hungrily. He fervently kisses his way down the column of your throat, nips his way to your collarbone—but unlike you, he’s careful to do so without leaving any kind of mark behind. He would give anything to have the freedom to leave traces of his loving all over you. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and the way he’s buried inside you to the hilt that brings out the primal in him, but Joel wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around Jackson covered in his love bites. He wants everyone to know he’s the one who’d left them behind, needs them to understand that you’re his. But that isn’t possible. Joel lifts his head from the hollow of your neck and nibbles lightly at your chin. “You alright, baby?”

Forcing your eyes open, you lift your head and bring yourself to look at him. At first, you feel discomfort, but after a minute, your body finally relaxes around him and it subsides. It’s replaced with the burning desire to feel more of him. The pretty glow coming in from outside the barn illuminates his face and you smile. “I’m better than alright. I’m perfect,” you assure him. You place a hand delicately on his chest, feeling his heart thrum hard against your fingertips. “This is perfect.”

Joel kisses the tip of your nose. He slides out of you slowly, then right back into you in an experimental thrust that brings your body off the blanket, your back arching in sheer pleasure. It’s such a deliciously tight fit, and he almost can’t believe how fucking good it feels to be sheathed in your taut heat. He drops his head, taking your breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple as he bucks his hips once more. He’s being careful. Too careful.

“Joel—I need you to move,” you gasp. You drag a hand down his chest and over his soft stomach, letting your fingernails rake lightly over his flushed skin. It’s warm to the touch, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Joel, please. Fuck me.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to tell him twice.

Joel releases the pebbled flesh from his mouth with a loud, lewd pop. He pulls his cock out of your dribbling pussy, then slams back into you with such force that he places a hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place underneath him on the blanket. You wrap your own leg around him, locking your ankles together, your heels digging into the firm curve of his ass. You lift your hips just as he rolls his own right into them. The new angle gives Joel the opportunity to fuck you even deeper and he hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold onto him, moans you’ve never heard come out of your own mouth before ringing in your ears and in his. He starts picking up his pace.

“Baby.” He’s breathless and speaks between every snap of his hips. “Fuck, y’feel s’good—s’tight around me—”

“Don’t stop, Joel. God, please don’t fucking stop,” you plead him, your finger burying themselves in his hair. “Keep going, just like that—fuck, you feel so fucking good inside me—”

You bite down on your bottom lip, adoring how Joel squeezes his dark eyes shut each and every single time the head of his cock brushes that one particularly deep spot inside of you. Knowing that you and your body has this kind of an effect on him, it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve spent the last couple of years allowing a pathetic excuse of a man—if one could even call him that—pick on you, say things about your body, and make you feel like your inability to conceive a child made you defective. Worthless, even. And here’s a real man, one who makes you feel beautiful with the way he talks to you, the way he kisses you, touches you, and fucks you. You’re not perfect by any means, but Joel Miller makes you feel what your own husband doesn’t.

He makes you feel like you’re enough. More than enough.

The barn fills with a combination of moaning, panting, and the sound of damp skin slapping against damp skin.

Glancing down at you, Joel shakes his head and warns, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, baby. M’so goddamn close.”

An unexpected wave of courage washes over you. Planting your hands firmly on his chest, you take him by complete surprise and slide out from underneath him. A small grunt escapes him as you push him onto his back. Amused, you can’t help but giggle at the shocked expression on his face as you guide him to lie down on the flannel blanket. Eager to see his reaction, you keep your eyes trained on his face as you straddle his lap. You grip the base of his cock in your hand and then slowly sink down onto him, your cunt greedily squeezing him as you slide down until you’re fully seated.

Joel’s jaw falls slack. It’s the most stunning sight he’s ever seen.

You, completely naked on top of him, your pouty lips plump and swollen from his kisses. Your smooth, supple skin glows in the moonlight shining through the open window behind you. All while every inch of Joel’s cock was buried deep inside of you, head nudging at your cervix. Eyes glimmering devilishly, the sexiest little smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Like what you see?”

He tries to speak, but he can’t.

You’ve rendered him speechless. 

Grabbing his hands in yours, you guide them to your hips. His blood roars in his ears and his fingers dig into the pillowy soft flesh, holding on as you begin to rock them back and forth. You throw your head back, your hair spilling over your shoulder. The friction of your clit against his pelvis heightens your pleasure. Joel had thought he would be the one to topple over the edge first, but he’d been wrong.

Eyes pinching shut, you start bouncing yourself on his cock, your desperation mounting. You feel the tension between your hips coiling back tightly, ready to snap forward.

“Fuck, Joel—I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuckin’ come for me, baby,” Joel encourages you, his fingers digging even harder into your hips. One of his hands abandons your side and he reaches up and gently takes your slackened jaw in the palm of his hand. He coaxes you to look down at him. “Need you to be a good girl and look at me, peach,” he instructs you, slipping his thumb between your parted lips. “Need to see that pretty face of yours when you come all over my cock, sweetheart.”

“Oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck!”

Crying out, you unravel and fall apart all over him, the ecstasy blurring the edges of your vision. 

It doesn’t take Joel much longer to follow. He lets out a low, guttural growl, choking out a string of profanities as he slams you down onto his lap and holds you in place, spurts of warm come coating your velvet walls. Your pussy squeezes him, draining him of every last drop.

You collapse forward onto him in a sweaty, whimpering mess and he wraps his arms around you. With him still inside you, you both lay there and try to catch your breaths as the high slowly but surely begins to wear off.

After a few minutes, Joel pulls out of you and he shifts your bodies, moving you so you’re now laying beside him. Tucking you against his side, he slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer. His other hand finds one of yours and he takes it, bringing them both to rest on his chest.

“You alright?” he asks you, lacing his fingers together with yours.

“I’m great,” you answer him tiredly, prompting him to chuckle. “What about you?”

Joel strokes at your hair. “Never been better, sweet girl.”

You groan. “Joel, don’t do that,” you mumble into his shoulder. “You’re going to put me right to sleep.”

He laughs again. “We’ve still got a bit more time, y’know. If you’re tired, you can take a quick nap. I can wake you up in ‘bout an hour when it’s time to head home.”

“No, that’s okay,” you decline the offer, worried he would accidentally fall asleep too. “I really wish we could sleep together—I mean, actually sleep together. In an actual bed. Not having to worry about anything. Just like normal couples do.”

“Well, we ain’t exactly a normal couple, darlin’.”

“No, we’re definitely not,” you murmur. You don’t even realize how sad you’d sounded until you feel Joel give your shoulders a comforting squeeze. 

Neither of you say anything else about it as you spend the next hour laying there, tangled up in each other’s embrace, waiting until it was time to go your separate ways.

[nothorses]

hello am nonbinary 👍 i think a lot of binary trans people fail to recognize the ways they ignore or erase or are unaware of nonbinary trans issues. we are... like, rebinarized, either treated the same as transmale/transfemale or as cismale/cisfemale, when neither of those experiences are accurate or similar to ours (generalizing here, i know transmasc and transfem enbies Exist lol). i dont feel like exorsexism is taken seriously amongst binary trans people.

like... so many nonbinary people talk about having to lie and pretend to be binary trans to endocrinologists to get access to hrt, or not being able to access hrt BECAUSE of their nonbinary transition goals. but when i bring this up, my nonbinary perspective is often overrode in favor of a binary trans perspective (like, "well the gatekeeping hurts binary trans people too, youre not unique"). does that make sense? if i talk about how i feel about the english language's intense gendering and how it will never be possible for me to be "stealth", how i feel like im forcibly recloseted bc of rigidly binary gender roles and will likely die like this, im told that "everyone deals with misgendering". every time i try to talk about something specific to my own experience as a nonbinary trans person, it is derailed

i dont think "binary privilege" is like. a real thing. bc thats not what the word "privilege" means. but there is A Real Difference in how binary trans people are treated vs nonbinary trans people. its like, we should talk about that for the same reason why we talk abt the differences in transandrophobia and transmisogyny. and idk, in my experience, binary trans people dont usually want to talk about that?

I 100% agree, and I think it's a real problem. And I want to be clear that I agree with everything you've said here; I think there is absolutely a real difference in how nonbinary people are treated vs. other trans people, and I think other trans people very often do treat nonbinary folks differently in a way that is genuinely shitty and harmful.

I think we're on the same page about this one, tbh. I'm a little tired of the idea of "binary privilege", but generally for the same reasons that I think "trans male privilege" is nonsense, and that "transandrophobia" as a concept exists without implying that transmascs are oppressed by transfems.

I just think that not everything is an oppression/privilege dynamic, and it's important to be able to talk about unique experiences and lateral aggression without that conversation centering around arguments about who has it "worse", who's perspectives aren't to be trusted, who's problems aren't real, and which other trans people are the Real Enemy. Which it sounds like you agree with.

[tanuki-kimono]

Hello! I love your blog bc it helps me a lot with writing and crafting. Thank you so much for making it!

Are there any patterns that deal with poison? Either in the pattern or in the dyeing process?

Even if there's not I'm glad you and this blog exist 💗

(anon continues) Poison in the dyeing process, like when green dresses were dyed with copper arsenite and it was extremely deadly.

Or a pattern of someone being poisoned, like a historical/folktale.

_______________________________________

Thank you for your kind words <3 I tried to keep things organized but the subject is huge so my of the top of my head answer is going in many directions. I hope you'll still find what you need :3

I'll briefly cover here dyes and (pigments), poison motifs, real life and supernatural poisonings. Buckle up we've got a long post ahead!

____ ABOUT DYE

Tbh I had to think for a moment because I don't recall major "poison" stories linked to dyes in Japan, be it fictionous or real (yet that doesn't mean none ever happened, especially considering Japan's history of industrial poisonings...).

Most gruesome details in the fabric industries I know of are about the horrific life & work conditions of female laborers in spinning mill manufactures (as in many countries, Japan industrialization process was ghastly...).

If potters and dyers had excellent practical knowledge, chemistry as a science officially started kind of late in Japan as it was not a local interest, and as rangaku (study of Western knowledge) often favored other subjects like medicine or warfare.

So, until the introduction of aniline dyes (not textile related, but this article about the use of synthetic dyes in ukiyoe printing is super interesting), Japanese worked with "natural" dyes, like ai (indigo) which was the most used during Edo period.

As with any ingredient, being natural doesn't equal safety. Some mixtures could be quite potent/foul, and process could be dangerous. Plants and minerals base ingredients could be toxic (cinnabar and orpiments were then used as paint pigments, and lead could be found in make up), as were mordants used to set colors.

If you want to easily overview which ingredients were used to create colors, I recommand browsing [Irocore] which presents colors with explanation in English in their database (pick a color then scroll down).

Not related to poison, but ai (indigo) is traditionally prepared in aigame/enormous floor set jars I find utterly terrifying:

I don't know if this tidbit can help you, but some dyes and mordants actually damage the fabric overtime, leaving them brittle (silk desintegrates after a while which is a huge issue in textile conservation).

____ POISON MOTIFS

Concerning "poison" themed patterns, none would be actually used traditionally on a kimono or an obi beside novelty items ^^;

For example, many plants can be toxic, but I don't see them set as pattern for this property - they'd rather refer to a poem, be a symbol of the passing of seasons etc. Fuji (wisteria) can be quite harmful, yet it's a beloved traditional motif in Japan.

You have much more chances to find pattern with kujaku (peacock) which are thought to be impervious to poison in Buddhism, than say venomous mukade (centipede) or the horrific ômukade (a youkai I covered in a folktale).

Snakes like the habu and mamushi are dangerous, but if used as pattern snakes are most often auspicious and linked to rain dragons or goddess Benzaiten.

If you squint hard, toxic fugu could count as poison pattern, but such a seasonal delicacy as a motif would mostly underline wealth (as those fishes are pretty expensive as they are prepared by specialized chefs), a kind of carpe diem spirit, or just a fun pattern because fugu balloon shape is cute ;)

____ POISON MURDERS

Poisoning was certainly a thing is Japan since ancient times (see kodoku sorcery). Poisons were for example used in some fishing techniques.

I am pretty sure some kuge and buke were disposed of this way - even thought poison was seen as a coward weapon (hence why its supposed to be only used by shinobi/ninja - even if this "fact" is opened to a lot of discussions!).

During Edo period, such murders made up the news and penny dreadful-like illustrated books favored by city dwellers in need of a fright. But those stories didn't pass to posterity beside cheap ukiyoe plates, and were never as popular as some shinjû (double suicides) or ghost revenges like poor poisoned and murdered Oiwa's:

____ SUPERNATURAL POISONINGS

If your poison is both physical and metaphorical illbeing, mushi could be your guys ^^ This term actually covers everything small and crawling, from real worms and insects, to anything inside one's body causing distress - be it a parasite, an unknown illness, an overboard emotion, a curse etc. If you've read/seen Mushishi you've got what I mean:

In fact any illness-causing being could count as poison-bringer. Hôsôkami (smallpox demon) was truly feared by all before vaccination was introduced in Japan.

Finally, continuing the supernatural poisoning trail, best girl is probably legendary fox witch Tamamo no Mae who among other terrible deeds made emperor Konoe fall sick with poisonous miasma (some version of the story attributes the disease to another monster, the nue). I covered a similar murderous kitsune folktale here.

[ccuniculusmolestus]

Bunny Corcoran; Neglect, Disorder and Becoming Mother

WARNING: VERY LONG POST!!

Based purely on headcanons, might be refined after a re-read (which I keep putting off bcs i want to savor the book slowly but i never get the time)

DISCLAIMER READ IF U GET PISSED OFF ABT STUFF: Okay, I headcanon that Bunny suffered from borderline personality disorder. And please I dont want anyone triggered over me self-diagnosing Bunny this is my HEADCANON and i am not romanticizing it. That being said, I am NOT a psychologist neither do I claim 2 be, these headcanons are built purely on my studies and own experiences. This is not to make light of a disorder that I know well is quite debilitating. I also understand it's different for everyone and I don't claim to be The Only Source of BPD symtoms. I think I had to say this cuz i didn't want pitchforks and all that coming 4 me for a personality analysis 😒 ANYWAY.

Here, I divided this into parts too otherwise it's a long ass yapping post:

I. Katherine Corcoran and BPD

II. A Quiet House

III. MacDonald Corcoran

IV. Father Henry

I. Katherine Corcoran and BPD

First, let's discuss Katherine, her diagnosis (which is a hc) and her parenting 'method'. I believe that Katherine Corcoran suffered from a personality disorder (BPD) (which I believe was passed down either genetically or environmentally to Bunny.) Both she and Macdonald knew there was something wrong with her, but i mean BPD was added to the DSM 5 in the 1980s (when TSH was set) so I believe when she was still younger, getting therapy or going to therapy was heavily stigmatized and also only the extremely mentally ill were treated? Perhaps it was also a social image thing, or a personal pride thing, but sis did not get help for it until much later.

This could just be "In my time, people didn't seek help," but the wording makes me believe she was about to tell an instance or experience of her own, "When I was a girl and struggling with this, I couldn't seek help" so on. She also seems to be in favor of seeking help, even if it is drug related. Makes you think she's probably had to depend on rehabilitation centers or perhaps therapeutic centers herself.

I also feel like, during the events of the book, that maybe she was on mood stabilizers just because she's so cucumber-cool and chill at the worst times. (Described as "calm as a bride" at her own son's funeral whereas her husband can't stop oscillating between bawling and playing with his grandkids.)

Let's talk about her parenting in light of BPD mothers.

According to this study, mothers with BPD might:

not respect their kids' boundaries -> leads to the child developing similar traits. Bunny did not respect boundaries either.

Neglect and emotional under-involvement by mothers with BPD can contribute to the development of BPD in their children. Environmental instability, like frequent changes in housing and schooling, further adds to the challenges. Bunny is quite literally under-developed emotionally AND also he did go thru some environmental instability and extreme neglect growing up. Case in point.

Mothers with BPD may swing between being overly involved and overly distant. This can show up as fluctuating between being controlling and being cold (A trait also expressed by Bunny later on towards his friends). For instance, they might respond to their adolescent's emotions with both neglectful and punishing reactions This inconsistency may confuse the child, making them doubt or deny their own emotions. (Bunny is in denial about a lot of things. That's his way of dealing with his emotions. After the explosive fight with Henry, for example, in Rome. After the fight he tries to pretend everything is normal.)

Apparently children of mothers with BPD tend to also develop disruptive behaviors and other external problems like ADHD. I do think Bunny suffered from ADHD, there's multiple examples of it throughout the book.

Mothers with BPD tend to communicate insensitively, using critical, intrusive, and frightening comments and behaviors. They may also struggle with role confusion, where the child takes on a more adult-like role. We have no proof of this as we never see Bunny interact with his mother. However, the intrusive thing makes me think about something. After Bunny's death, when rumors begin circulating that he was a possible drug user, Katherine reacts vehemently and takes jabs at the press for causing unnecessary emotional damage to an already 'grieving' mother. Then, she orders an autopsy, which is incredibly invasive, not to clear Bunnys name or anything, but to clear her own name.

now I know that running the test would also help clear Bunny's name but you know one of the biggest reasons of denying an autopsy of a loved one is fear of their disfigurement. That's why some families actually tend to not go for autopsies if a coroner or the law doesn't require it. And I know this would've helped Bunny's case in clearing his name but her reasoning behind allowing the disfigurement of her own son post-mortem is just....its so sickening. I felt so sad? 😭 especially in the 1970s, around that time, autopsies were very invasive and didnt deal with people as respectfully as they do today. :(

Additionally, BPD can make SOME mothers incapable of bonding with their own children. They have difficulties with bonding an attachment, thus leading to neglect and a disinterest in their kids' lives. They might also lack empathy as an general thing when dealing with BPD but dont take these statements as like a 100% BPD analysis by a true and learned scholar of BPD YOU NEED TO THINK CRITICALLY. NOt everyone with BPD is like this. They CAN be like this. And I think Katherine was indeed such a mother, because we can see from Bunny's upbringing, and then Bunny's death what kind of a woman she was basically. Bunny's death did not really bother her, only the shame he brought on the family name did. She wasn't emotionally bonded to him, neither does she appear emotionally bonded to her own grandkids, like her husband is. You can even say she probably lacked empathy for her kids.

Now, BPD isn't largely genetic like Bipolar but it has genetic predisposition.

That genetic predisposition paired with environmental influences like neglect can lead to the development of BPD, which is I believe what happened with Bunny. I mean, we can also argue that Bunny's dad was so emotionally volatile. He jumped from one mood to the other, and I'm not being cringey and self-diagnosing (?) book characters but he probably had a mood disorder (Bipolar disorder perhaps) which is largely genetic. So that means Bunny possibly had two parents with personality disorders.

But I do believe Bunny is more similar to his mother than Richard realized or noted in the books, I think. The way he was beginning to get into drugs, too idk. I feel like Macdonald's influence on the boys' behaviors is very prominent, but to see Kathy's influence, you'd have to see their sons up-close. We really only saw Bunny up-close, and that too only from Richard's (very biased imo) opinion

Idk why this made me think of how Bunny was so smiley, but so hateful. He seems amiable at first, and then he seems like a bitch. Same with Katherine. The news was first reporting her as this classy, perfect woman, and then the press turned against her after the interview at the restaurant, after which psychologists began saying the family was dysfunctional and that parents' habits were picked up by their kids (again, this might be an allusion to Katherine's drug addiction mirrored with Bunny's developing drug dependency/usage/interest)

Anyway, building on that, I just wanna say I think Kathy and Macdonald's parenting style was very inconsistent, and most of the times just downright neglectful. This much is clear; the Corcoran household struggled with emotional volatility. Environments like these can seriously alter the brain chemistry of children who grow up in them, and they act as triggers for activating the genetic influences (so basically gene expression can be turned off or on by certain environments)that are present within someone.

So growing up Bunny often felt like his mom loved him, then she didn't, then she did, so on. This could be because of the medications she was on and also her personality disorder. It's mentioned in the books how Bunny was miraculously the best out of all the Corcoran family members (Charles says this) and I think maybe Bunny was more in touch with his emotions than MOST of them; his parents, his siblings, AND his friends.

________________________

II. A Quiet House

I know the popular notion is that the youngest child is the most spoilt but tbh sometimes they can be the loneliest.

The eldest two brothers (Hugh and Ted) have kids that are like, I think almost 10 years old, so I think there's a considerable age gap between (Bunny, Patrick, Brady) & (Hugh and Teddy). Because, like, Bun and Brady are still in school, and Patrick is doing some business start-up thing I think??Anyway, the point I was going to make is that the Corcoran boys were shipped off to boarding schools when they were pretty young, and boarding schools typically start accepting at around age 11 I think. But I think prep boarding schools also exist and your kid can be as young as 7 before you ship them off to stay at the school.

A thing to note, prep boarding schools are VERY expensive and thus exclusive, so if the Corcorans are sending their kids to boarding schools purely for the image of being rich (which we all know that image was the most important thing for them), they might have done that tbh. Which brings me to this point, the age gap isnt too big between Bunny & (Brady+Patrick) but they'd still get to go to boarding school before Bunny, meaning Bunny was younger than 7 years old, and most probably isolated because all his brothers were not at home anymore and he was left to just his neglectful mother (considering his father would be at work) .

Bunny's isolation was probably more pronounced than his brothers, because older siblings being grouped together ended up with him being alone in the developmental years of his life. That could be why he is more dysfunctional than his brothers, but he also might not be more dysfunctional, because we have no idea what his brothers are like in their personal relationships.

________________________

III. Macdonald Corcoran

Donald is an obviously affectionate parent, as we can see, but I have this headcanon which basically ties into all this. I feel like Donald was mostly preoccupied with taking care of his ill wife. I do think he genuinely loved her, idk why, he just seems like the kind of guy. And again, this is not a generalization of BPD women as partners, but it is an analysis of Kathy's overall personality and interactions with Donald in light of the possibility that she had BPD. So this is not a generalization. But Kathy would be the kind of high-maintenance person that Bunny was turning into.

High-maintenance BPD partners are likely to require constant understanding and validation to endure and relieve suffering, which I think Katherine would need a lot in their earlier years or when their kids were young (she starts taking mood stabilizers later, when the stigma reduces mayhaps? So before that they were probably a very volatile dynamic.) Also this is purely my headcanon but like, I think Donald is the sort who would try and avoid conflict with Katherine or at the very least, bend to her whims.

This interaction kind of shows us how she's dismissive towards his attempts at remaining neutral or even positive about a harmless action performed by people they knew. 'It's a common cognitive distortion in BPD, where individuals may swing between idealization and devaluation, perceiving situations or people as either entirely good or completely bad.' BPD is also marked by negative thinking patterns, and often times their partners/friends have to either validate their concerns or try and challenge them. We can see here that Donald is on friendlier terms with the Bartles, he calls them by their first name, but she calls them by their title. Still, she doesn't care that her husband seems to like them and disparages their 'gift'.

Anyway, their dynamic is a whole thing, I believe, and I think Donald might have actually made for a decent father had he not been torn between choosing his wife and his kids. Can't blame him or be mad at him for choosing his wife, either, maybe he had already almost lost her and became afraid of that possibility re-occurring.

So like, even when he'd come home, he'd spend time with his wife who, yes, she needed him, but he obviously neglected his kids in that aspect.

________________________

IV. Father Henry

You know how Bunny is always begging Henry for attention? He specifically needs Henry's attention, because Henry is the man in his life who he has given the 'Father' role to.

The providing role- Henry fulfills Bunny's need for a stable father, his stoicism keeps Bunny's volatile self grounded. Understand this-- Why does Bunny gravitate to Henry more?

Because of his riches? Partly.

Francis was also rich, and he was probably a bigger pushover than Henry, but Bunny still preferred Henry over Francis. It was not all about the money. Bunny needed the father he yearned for since childhood. In his mind, he'd built Henry up into this figure he could depend on no matter what. That scene with Richard in the restaurant-- Bunny's in trouble, first thing he does is call Henry, like a kid who expects their parent to always get them out of trouble. Richard even describes Bunny's behavior around Henry that of a 'bad child'.

That's why Bunny expects Henry to give him the world. That's why he respects him even after everything starts going to shit, even when he won't respect anyone else, because he never grew up, and, despite being 24 years of age he was still desperately seeking the love he knew he could have almost had. Sure, his mother perhaps would never have loved him, but his father could have loved him more, been more attentive. I don't think Donald was restrictive with his affection at all, but I do think he was not nearly as attentive as Bunny needed him to be.

You could argue he has daddy issues, so he seeks a deep relationship with a man who cannot give him what he needs. What's worse is I know Henry was trying desperately to not be his own father (Mr. Winter). He viewed parenthood as something negative, but he was pushed into that role unintentionally by Bunny. I don't think either of them realized what was going on.

Which is funny because Henry's weird co-dependent daddy-issue relationship with Bunny was what kind of lead to not only his own decline and death, but the decline of their friendship, the death of Bunny, and the decline of the Greek class. 💀

Also something to add, I can also say that I think Henry's relationship with Bunny actually began shaping Henry more into the mold of his father, Mr. Winter.

From what we can tell or assume, Henry's father was:

cold, distant (Henry's mother is depressed, meek, subservient. Henry himself has no interaction with his father. His father does not attend his funeral)

abusive (probably lead to Henry's injuries either directly or indirectly). he could have been either emotionally or physically abusive.

exercises influence through money (can be inferred although it cannot be said with 100% certainty. He's a distant business tycoon who is involved in some shady stuff, there's a level of corruption there and usually these kinds of themes are at play in such situations. But I can acknowledge this is a bit of a reach).

Henry is not cold or distant by default, I believe. I mean yeah he's kind of closed-off, but he wouldn't necessarily ignore or avoid someone just because. He becomes avoidant and cold, and distant specifically to Bunny after the turmoil with Bunny pushes him to that point.

He can't really be called abusive but he did hit Bunny (even if it was an impulse and he didn't mean it) and then throw (?) a chair at him later (definitely meant that). Also the cold and distant comes into play here because he let Bunny cry himself to sleep and did not bother apologizing even once, or even checking in on him. I know this is not his fault- he was traumatized, he didn't want to fight Bunny anymore- but there's also a level of "I'm done with this and I dont care about it anymore". Henry is shown to have a "idc" personality from the start which I think becomes exacerbated towards Bunny due to Bunny's behavior. But also, even after their fight in Rome, even when they were interacting normally, Henry did not apologize to Bunny for the crap he wrote in his journal about him. Instead, he just "tolerated" Bunny a bit more for like 2 days before abandoning him in Rome

I mean Henry didn't really leverage his financial position and privilege over Bunny

So it's a very fucked up dynamic, can you see it? They had very different relationships with their fathers, and very different expectations and views of one another. Henry never asked to be put into the shoes of Bunny's father, and Bunny never meant to push Henry into becoming Mr. Winter, but alas.

[omgcatboi]

Are you a “eat until death” type of person? I know you want to get fatter, but 800 pounds is a lot…

Answer below the cut (:

I'm not sure how to read the intentions behind this anon, rather they be good or bad. But I'm going to answer anyways because I do get asked this from time to time.

( disclaimer because I can already hear people trying to argue with me, but my aunt who was 700 pounds lived until her 60's and she was fat her entire life, so no, she didn't die immediately from gaining weight. Nor will I. )

Am I an ' eat until death ' type of person;

I absolutely am, but I limit my ' death feedism ' posting here ( as well as tag it ) and am thinking of making another side blog to remove that posting from here entirely for the comfort of my followers. I'm not eating with intention to end myself, I just feel like life is what you make of it and anything can happen at any point to cut us a short deal. Also, my cultural beliefs are that the entire purpose of life is to experience it. So that's what I want to do. Death isn't the end goal, and I do eat many healthy foods ( and encourage it often on my blog so that other feedees can gain weight more healthily. ) I just know I wanna get as big as possible, and that may bring along a good handful of complications that can result in death.

TW ; talk of fascism and American imperialism as well as transphobia / legislation enforcing bigotry.

Also, not to get all doom and gloom but look at the state of this world. Look at the dying planet we have limited time on. Each day a new fascist bill gets passed here in America alone. If death takes me out this hellscape then it's doing me a hell of a favor, because there IS no other way out. Not without a ton of money for a passport and applying for citizenship overseas as well as paying American taxes AFTER moving out. And even then, America IS the empire of our age. It influences the rest of the world. And it has already been invading other countries and enforcing fascist dictatorships either directly or indirectly for MANY years now. So even if I COULD hypothetically move out, I'd still be at risk of being under Americas extreme rule anyway. Or worse, I'd end up in a situation like P/lestinian just like Vi/tnam was.

I know what I'm saying is dark and depressing, as well as anxiety inducing, but I'm showing that I've put plenty of thought behind this decision. Just like I did before starting HRT even tho I ALWAYS knew I am trans. And I don't need anyone trying to talk me out of the lifestyle I am living. Besides, with my genetics, I'm going to keep gaining regardless. It happened to my aunt who was roughly 700 pounds, and even then, she was near her 60's when she passed. I'm only gaining faster, not less. ( And she wasn't gaining intentionally, she just didn't care about fitting into other people's idea of what she should be and what she should do. )

In her 60's

60'S

I don't want to be old and wrinkly ( no hate tho those who are ) I don't want to live that damn long ( like 70's and older ) just. Nah. I'm good.

I'm just enjoying my time while I have it.

( this next part is not about people with triggers who are triggered by death feedism or very fat bodies. So if that is you, stop exposing yourself to this bc I tagged it and talked about it plenty before getting to this point of the post. )

And as a footnote to anyone who may be reading this, if you have an issue with people getting ' too big ' 1) you need to check that way of thinking because you ARE in the feedism / fat kink community. And that INCLUDES people who are, gasp, suprise, FAT. And 2) you should spend some time reflecting on what lead you to harboring that way of thinking.

Not saying this anon holds these views at all, I'm just mentioning it because it is my blog and we are on the topic. ( Plus I'm Knipping everything in the bud now as far as the group of people who will try and spew any level of fatphobia at me for this. In which case I'm not even going to read what y'all say, I'm just going to block you lol. )

One love and allat 😌

[ferretwhomst]

HI i would like to ask about yuor silly blorbos yes :3 how do they end up meeting ?? And like whats going on with the rest of the pines in this au ?? I am Intrigued by this au

(Do you have any questions or wnything about rm au in return btw im going to be in the car for like two more hours im losing my mind i need blorbo fuel man)

HI EMBER THANK YOU EMBER WTEIODSURYTREHDFGHT

okay i'm first going to introduce them because... i have talked abt them in the church but not here as yet.

first of all. mabel h-10!!!

rick had to remove her braces since she got a tooth knocked out lol. she is pretty much exactly like canon mabel except slightly more rough around the edges + has more of an interest in BUGS. i don't know where this came from bc i don't even have an interest in bugs i just thought it'd be silly

anddd rick s-742!!

he's a lot like canon except a. fairly overprotective of mabel and b. is slightly less nsfw because [insert meta joke about how mabel is from a kid's show]. like i said in the alt text. mabel made that sweater for him :) mabel is also the reason he's wearing hair pins. she's SILLYFYING him... bit by bit...

so. as for how they met. it's not set in stone yet... i am still considering possibilities... But i am considering something like don't dimension it from lost legends going on. mabel h-10 gets lost in the multiverse and ends up in dimension mab-3l, but instead of getting snagged by the anti-mabel, ford jumps in after her and helps bail her out somehow... but SOMETHING FUCKED UP HAPPENS. something i'm not sure of yet. will figure it out as we go along,,, will likely involve ford getting caught and detained by intergalactic police. we'll see abt the specifics. but either way, it gets bad enough that ford sends out a distress signal as a last resort; he knows he's probably fucked but he doesn't want any harm to come to mabel at least.

he knows One Specific Person will receive that signal. rick owes him a favor after all

anyways yeah rick swoops in and grabs mabel at the last second and from then on he takes care of her. probably not indefinitely but for a decent amount of time, until they manage to get her back to ford. both of them Promptly grow attached to each other also yes this happens before rick returns to his family after years of being absent (rnm aired for the first time in 2013 so i'm taking that as the year he returned to them, meanwhile gf takes place in the summer of 2012. so like RIGHT before that), so mabel is all he has and vice versa. and boy does she remind him of so many people he's ever cared about. And Vice Versa because mabel sees a lot of her grunkles in him :3

also you may now be thinking "Ferret you havent mentioned stan or dipper at all. what's up with them." AND UH. THE SITUATION IS NOT GOOD BACK IN DIMENSION H-10. ford and mabel are missing and neither of them know what the fuck to do, DIPPER HAS TO GO BACK HOME WITHOUT HIS FUCKING SISTER. and stan has to deal with losing his tiny naive 13-yr-old niece AND losing his brother who he JUST GOT BACK. AWESOME. JUST FANTASTIC

(things will get resolved eventually but boy do things get worse for them before they get better!!!!!!!!!!!)

[askthedragonriders]

Good evening dragon riders. This question is for all of you. Life has been very overwhelming lately and loneliness is a very real thing that I (and likely many other people) have been struggling with. Sometimes forcing myself out of isolation can feel near impossible. How do you deal with this sort of stress? (If this question is a lot for you then it’s ok if you don’t answer. I understand).

good evening! this has been sitting in my ask box for a couple of months now at this point (maybe longer). i've finally reached it and i apologize for the wait.

i'm also sorry for not responding to this in character, but i just couldn't bring myself to do it. i am just one person roleplaying as these six goobers and it's hard for me to have them have their own answers while i have my own separate experiences with the same issue and loneliness being smth that has been a part of my entire life until recently.

ik how you feel, anon. life gets overwhelming and you are alone or even with others you feel alone because there's just smth not connecting and putting yourself out there takes up so much energy with the added potential of it not working in your favor at all and it sucks so badly. it SUCKS so badly.

forcing yourself out of isolation is SO much sometimes. at my worst i couldn't even imagine it being possible that i could have the power to get myself out. i can only speak from my experiences and i apologize if it does nothing for you. i understand if it doesn't. we are not the same person, none of us are.

but for me, the stress of it all would be me going to work or having to do smth and being like "you know what. just say hi to someone. introduce yourself." such as a coworker or a fellow student. it gets more difficult if you don't have scheduled things like that which generally require interacting with people and yea, it doesn't mean it'll guarantee the loneliness going away if you happen to talk to someone. i get it.

i've always been somewhat of an outsider and struggled in having friends bc a part of me liked keeping to myself but also i was afraid and stressed but it made me lonely and it just cycled. i was lucky my mom recommended i see a therapist bc she was worried & it ended up working wonders for me in understanding how i operate.

for dealing with the stress of it, sometimes it's as simple as slow breathing, sometimes it's setting tinier goals so it's not so daunting and going step by step, and sometimes it did end up being dealing with the stress head on and jumping in. sometimes finding someone online helped, sometimes having someone irl with me helped. what also helps me is remembering that being lonely will always be part of a phase. our feelings always have opposites. someone else across the world or even across the street is also lonely, either literally alone or at a giant gathering with friends around them. we are lonely together.

you will not be lonely forever and the fact you know you don't like being lonely and don't want to be lonely, even if the stress of coming out of isolation feels like so much, that's enough. it can make the difference. you might even end up not being lonely or fighting it in a way you never expected or didn't even realize because things sometimes just happen. it's what happened to me, i started seeing a therapist and got a new job and there i met my two best friends in the whole world who are some of the only ppl who make me feel happy and full. we don't talk all the time. we don't need to. we pick up right where we left off. i no longer see my therapist and have moved out and my life has changed a lot.

ik that it doesn't always work like that. sometimes you rlly do have to keep getting up, going out, and facing the loneliness head on. usually it'll be a mixture of it happening naturally and being a fight. learning to be comfortable in your own company and taking care of yourself can also be very helpful, and you gotta do that at your own pace. days will sometimes be bad and sometimes be good. it probably won't be noticeable or go as quickly as you hope it will.

i hope you are able to find peace, anon. you will one day see, looking back, that you aren't lonely. even if you still are some time in the future, i hope it's still an improvement from where you are now. i hope your situation has improved for you since you sent this ask.

i wish you the best

[dinoburger]

Mercenaries vs. Conflict resolution

wanted to jot down thoughts about how the mercs deal with team conflict bc I've been thinking about it quite a bit

most of the mercenaries enjoy feeling like they're in a position of authority so there's a lot of clashing egos, maybe the two biggest exceptions being Scout and Pyro

Scout doesn't actually like having authority I think as much as he likes posturing, like if he fucks up badly enough with another of his colleagues he'd be the first to own up to it - he just has a disease called being the youngest sibling and therefore eternally acting like the obnoxious kid brother despite being an adult - but he genuinely doesn't want the others to resent him and most of the time appealing to their own sense of authority is enough to keep him in their good books.

Pyro... Pyro doesn't have an ego, but they do have an agenda. And that's usually "doing what Pyro wants". And if that means sometimes playing up the existing expectations of their teammates, whether they see them as helpless and "in need" or violent and unpredictable, they will do it.

This isn't even particularly malicious, it can be, but for instance it's easier to get the Engineer to stop having another argument with the Spy that's just making him angrier and angrier when he thinks he's doing Pyro a favor and it's not Pyro that's trying to distract him. Or their teammates may find whatever they were arguing about a lot less pressing when the Pyro drives an axe through the table they were yelling across.

Pyro themself is pretty easy to talk down from a fight though, if it's from someone they trust.

Heavy, I think, is not too bad at figuring out when to swallow his pride and talk things out. He does have the reverse problem of Scout, being the oldest sibling, which is sometimes forgetting that treating his colleagues like squabbling children can make them angrier (even when they are acting like squabbling children). He takes to a position of authority easily but he's actually fairly good at staying level headed and compromising when the dust settles.

Sniper and Spy are a lot more flippant about conflict resolution, both tend more towards either light or back-handed apologies.

Demo and Soldier tend towards letting things spiral violently out of control before finding their own ways to make it up sincerely.

Engie and Medic are... stubborn. Both of them very much enjoy the feeling of authority and neither is willing to part with that - Medic more openly, Engie more insidiously.

Medic is very quick to let things go in the name of progress but expects exactly the same of the teammates he charges through and thinks they're being immature if they resent him for that.

Engie is alright at patching things up with someone if they can meet on reasonable terms but in actuality will take a lot longer to rebuild trust with them. If they can't meet on reasonable terms it may very well start driving him insane.

[circular-bircular]

It drives me up a wall that ppl argue “anti endos are the only harassers!!!” And yet the past few days the sys course tag has been nothing but going against anti endos for? Some reason? Like just outta nowhere I started to see posts going on and on about how anti endos are sooo horrible and how dare they want anti endo only spaces like hello pot??

It’s just… infuriating to see it all bcs why the hell would anyone even consider looking at a different perspective if the first thing they see is people bashing anti endos (and often CDD systems in the same breath) and using that to uplift pro/endos like you can’t seriously claim to want anti endos to listen when everything is about insulting/shaming anti endos in a number of ways some less subtle than the last

I’m neutral on it all but if I was still anti today and thought “well maybe I should try to understand their side” and saw all that then?????? Hell no

Hell even being neutral I’m still not favorable to interactions bcs I don’t want that kinda energy in my space

Sry I’m just so GAH about it all and saw your post on syscourse stances and the harassment thing and was just “finally”

(Ough I’m so sorry I’m rambling hard on this one)

I fully agree that anti-endos aren’t the only harassers. But I also agree that endogenic systems are going through a lot right now. It’s easy for me to not see, but that’s because I’ve got a lot of folks blocked. There really are a lot of anti-endo assholes popping up each day lately, and I’m sorry for all the Endogenic systems dealing with that hatred. I’ve been there. It fucking sucks. I also am sorry for the CDD systems suffering through hatred currently, regardless of syscourse stance. It’s all hellish sometimes.

In my eyes, the way a lot of pro-endos tackle things isn’t beneficial. It’s either bait to encourage anti-endos to rage (which is often triggering to boot), or it’s just vocalizing hatred into a public space. Neither of these things are needed, especially if the goal is to make it so that anti-endos “aren’t a thing anymore.” Anti-endos fall into this same trap; many are trying to protect their disorders, but they do so via harassment, mockery, or similarly vocalized hatred. All in some attempt to “make things better for ‘real’ systems.”

It feels like many people in syscourse are doing something I like to call Aimless Activism. They know something is wrong (fakeclaiming, bad sources, ableism, etc), so they rally against it loudly and boldly, because That’s The Point. You’re Supposed To.

I’m guilty of this myself honestly. But… you need a goal. You need to have a point beyond This Is Activism, because if you don’t have an actionable goal, then you’re not actually working toward anything. You’re just shouting.

My goal on my blog is to share my personal experiences and talk about things that interest me. That’s it. I’ve tried to be an Aimless Activist for awhile now, convincing myself that it’s activism to argue online. And I don’t know, maybe to some, my blog fits that description. But at this point, I don’t… think it matters. I’m tired of playing in this giant sandbox where everyone is kicking the sand in each other’s faces while I try to build my sand castle.

I think a lot of other people are too. Has anyone else noticed how many new faces there are here? How a lot of the old faces have gone away? People are tired of the sandbox games where everyone kicks around sand. People want real things, real conversations, real connections — regardless of some stupid arbitrary label.

And that’s where it comes back to. “Stupid arbitrary label.” The ones who care about the labels are still playing in the sandbox and they’re gearing up for another round of fighting with “the other side.” Meanwhile, they don’t realize that the sandbox is only one tiny part of an enormous playground, and I’m over on the swings with friends I made in the sandbox, laughing about how nice it is to no longer have sand in my eyes.

I wish folks the best for getting out of there.

[dutybcrne]

I'd love to say that in learning of/meeting the Fontaine sibling trio, Kaeya would absolutely have wanted to try and look after them but like.

Considering his first real interactions with Collei, it wouldn't be that simple.

[bihansthot]

hey😊👋 i see you're an enthusiastic bihan fan like me😍💙 i wanna know your favorite options about him and what you think is canon?

him being originally Asian / Caucasian or white ?

cryomancers originate from edenia so...?

his eye color? blue or brown?

him having short spikey hair (like in my fanart i tagged u) or mk1 hairstyle?

thanks a lot bc i care about ur answers 💙❄️

stay cold😵💙❄️

Enthusiastic is one way to put it! Clinically obsessed is another lol 😂

So with his ethnicity I have always assume he was Chinese, fully Chinese. To me Mama Zero has always been Chinese American because if you look at Kuai Liang’s MK2 win screen he doesn’t look biracial.

Bi-Han in MK1 doesn’t look biracial either:

And although Tony Chung is an American, (Kuai Liang’s face model) he isn’t biracial either as far as I know, I believe his parents are Taiwanese.

That and the iconic song “Chinese Ninja Warrior” always led me to believe that the Sub-Zero Bros are Chinese. They don’t start appearing to potentially be biracial until John Turk becomes the model for Kuai Liang on MK3/UMK3/Trilogy and for Bi-Han in my beloved MKM: SZ but I always assumed they used John Turk for his physique and not his appearance. In the Midway timeline their Mother is an American but like I said I believe she is Chinese American, I guess it’s open to debate though and unless Papa Tobias ever clears it up we’ll never know for sure. Please note I am not saying there is anything wrong with them being biracial, that’s not what I’m getting at in the least I’m just giving my opinion based off of their appearance and the storyline we’ve been given. If they are biracial I feel like they are like Korean Chinese or Japanese Chinese or something like that, not Caucasian Chinese. That’s just my thought though, again there is nothing wrong with them being biracial I just don’t think they are.

Cryomancers being from Edenia is a pretty new concept and we’re not introduced to that until Kuai Liang’s intro with Sindel. It makes sense though as to where their powers come from but that still doesn’t change Bi-Han being Chinese to me, he’s just half Edenian, half Chinese now but as we’ve seen throughout the games Edenians come in all flavors so Asiatic Edenians aren’t out of the realm of possibilities Mileena and Kitana have had Asian face models for a while now if I’m not mistaken. We don’t know Bi-Han’s yet but Tony Chung being Kuai Liang really solidifies their characteristics for me and I’m curious to see if they’re part Edenian in MK1.

Eye color!! Arrgh! The bane of my existence, just kidding. Bi-Han’s eye color is inconsistent at best, I have statues where they’re blue but in MK1 they look brown? My classic Sub-Zero pop funko has black eyes where both movie funkos have blue eyes. I feel like it’s something Midway/NRS can’t make up their mind about. Even Joe Taslim’s eyes change in the movie, at the beginning they’re brown but at the end they’re blue.

Personally I favor my head canon of both are the case! When Bi-Han is calm and relaxed his eyes are brown but when he’s agitated or aggressive or horny they’re blue.

Hair style, I will die on my hill he has an undercut, I don’t care that he has a man bun in MK1 he has an undercut god damn it! You hear me Boon?! An UNDERCUT. You can keep the bun and just make it a top knot kinda deal. I personally like him with short hair best because growing up both of my older brothers had stringy unappealing looking super long hair and I am about as unattracted to my brothers as you can get lol so I always associate long hair with them. I am definitely warming up to him having longer hair but to me it’s not longer than his shoulders. I’m having a moment with it ok?

Hopefully that covered everything lovely! Thanks for the ask!

[messymindofmine]

For a while now I’ve been trying to get my thoughts on the first four episodes of this season sorted out. I did actually enjoy the arc as a whole. I enjoyed getting to learn more about Carlos’s backstory and I actually enjoyed getting to know Iris better. I think so many of us assumed that Carlos had such a lonely childhood and so it’s nice to know that he had at least one person in his life that he was close to and be himself around.

I think for me the reason why I felt so stressed about it all was actually more down to the fandom reaction to the storyline. I’m not trying to blame anyone here or insult the fandom at all. I actually understand why a lot of people reacted the way they did. But there were things that stressed me out. I didn’t like how so many people just seemed so resistant to the concept of Carlos even having flaws. Carlos has always had flaws, it’s just that for some reason some people always ignored them in favor of lashing out at TK. And I think that right there is why a lot of people who care about TK felt frustrated. Since s1, TK’s worthiness has constantly been questioned and every mistake he has made has been held against him. In s3, ppl kept saying that Carlos should never have taken TK back at all and made him work for it. Mind you, these people completely overlooked the fact that Carlos had bought a house without even discussing it with TK. The thing is, the narrative and Carlos himself seemed to ignore that too. Even Rafa boiled the breakup down to “TK fucking up.” But with this, it feels like the writers didn’t even want to acknowledge that Carlos had even made a mistake. There is never a moment where it’s pointed out to Carlos that he was married for the entirety of his relationship to TK and didn’t tell him. Instead, it’s brushed of bc it wasn’t a real marriage. I think this frustrated a lot of people bc it felt like even when Carlos is unequivocally the one who made a mistake, it’s going ignored. I actually did defend Carlos as much as I possibly could during that arc bc I do understand why he married Iris in the first place and it does fit his character that he didn’t tell TK. I just wish that had been pointed out as wrong the way TK breaking up with Carlos instead of talking to him about the house was. Carlos got to vent his feelings back then yet TK never said a word about how he felt about Carlos keeping that secret and then he constantly blamed himself for Iris going missing and nobody stepped in to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

On the other hand, I didn’t like how people who were understanding of both sides were treated either. I know for a fact that there were people writing entire coda fics that validated TK’s feelings and yet they were being sent messages accusing them of not liking TK. I most certainly did not like how the writers and especially the actors were being left nasty comments to the point where an Instagram post had to be taken down. As much as I loved Ronen, Rafa and Lysney showing each other solidarity, it should never have come to that in the first place. I don’t know what type of comments they were or who they were coming from. I do know that there were people who were just mad that a woman had been brought into the dynamic at all. I know that there were people who just couldn’t stand the idea of Carlos having flaws. I know there were people who, after the first ep, were sending anyone who vented their feelings on their own blog lists of every mistake (both real and imagined) mistake that TK has ever made. I know there were people who went out of their way to blame TK anyway and people who tried to pin the blame on Iris even though she was literally in a state of psychosis for years and was living on the streets. At any rate, whoever it was that left comments on Rafa’s post or sent hate to any of the actors should be ashamed.

Ronen himself touched on this in a post ep 4 interview but it really does seem that ppl forget that TK deals with mental health issues as well and none of this situation was at all easy on him. There’s a reason why Iris likened herself to TK. From the vibe I got, the ppl that were actually hating on Iris for the stuff she said during the dinner didn’t even seem that concerned about TK himself. They just wanted an excuse to hate on Iris. I’ve said before that there is ableism in this fandom that has come into play with how TK is talked about and it definitely feels like it came into play with how Iris was talked about. I know it frustrated a lot of ppl seeing TK’s struggles in this arc being ignored by everyone and even Carlos seemingly blaming him for Iris going missing. Now, I do understand why Carlos reacted the way he did. He was deeply worried, probably blaming himself since this is something he and TK have in common and Iris’s life was in danger. And Carlos has always had a tendency to compartmentalize to the point that it becomes toxic. So I do understand his reaction but I can’t say that I didn’t find it upsetting. I also feel like it led a lot of ppl to be louder about how bad they felt for TK bc they felt that nobody else was going to do it. There were also ppl outright blaming TK and the fact that Ronen made it a point to defend why TK went to Iris shows that the actors do in fact see the stuff fans say. I just hope that after this ppl can recognize that it is possible to understand and sympathize with two characters at the same time and to do so doesn’t mean that you dislike one or the other. I actually do understand (even if I don't necessarily agree with it) the hypersensitivity that some ppl had over TK during this arc bc there’s no denying that there are ppl out there that look for excuses to hate on TK and downplay his feelings. Apparently enough for Ronen to notice. In my experience, ppl who love TK generally love Carlos as well but the same can not always be said the other way around. However, as I already said, this is no reason to go after the ppl who do love both and are just trying to be understanding of both sides. At the end of the day, as far as I can see the majority does love both and that should be what matters. I think there is also the matter of how the anger ppl felt at Carlos was ultimately temporary. Ppl were angry after 401 but they calmed down after 402 when we saw Tarlos being a united team and expressing love for each other. And of course there was the exquisite couch scene. The anger started up again with ep 2 and Carlos’s behavior. The anger at Carlos always felt like a knee-jerk response that I didn’t like but at least it was temporary in the end. For TK on the other hand, ppl have been looking for excuses to hate on him since s1. Going as far as him bringing Lou the lizard home as proof of how he’s not good enough for Carlos.

All of this is something that has really been bothering me especially since there’s people who seem mad that Carlos wasn’t in ep 5 and I truly don’t understand why. I understand wanting more screen time, I always want both guys to have more screen time but I enjoyed the focus on Marjan and I want more for her. Plus we had 4 episodes straight focusing on Carlos where we learned so much about him and a lot of fans even got there wish about seeing him be the one in danger and TK rescue him. That’s actually another thing btw, while I liked ep 4 itself, I didn’t like how ppl were rejoicing at Carlos being hurt bc it would make “TK be the one to worry and show his love in a more obvious way.” Anyway, I don’t understand why some ppl were so mad at Carlos not getting screen time in this ep. I also understand wanting to see acknowledgment of what happened but I feel like it’s ok bc there’s so many brilliant coda fics for that. We didn’t really get any aftermath in the Push arc either but I don’t remember ppl complaining about that. TK was barely in any of the episodes after Push until the end of 307 and he was barely in this ep either. There are about 10 regulars on the show and this is the first time Marjan has had a big storyline so why is it such a bad thing that the focus was temporarily moved a bit? I genuinely don’t understand.  

Anyway, as I said before, I’m not trying to blame anyone or start anything. I just truly needed to get this off my chest so that I can sleep at night. As I said, I did enjoy the storyline overall. More than anything else, I’m just happy to move on from the angst and into the happy wedding-planning era. Personally, I don’t want anymore relationship-related drama. I know Rafa said that what happened in 404 would impact how Carlos dealt with things later on and I hope that means we see growth. I hope that means Carlos realizing that he has things he needs to work on the way TK did after Push. That’s all I want next for Tarlos and for Carlos

[yesimwriting]

Hello, can I have Billy Loomis with a gn!s/o that deals with panic attacks?

A/n i promise i’m working on part 8 of final girl for anyone that’s waiting,, i just really love the series and tend to lose love for projects when i force it a little more and i really want to keep loving it so i’ve been trying to focus on smaller, less consuming fics while also balancing my attempt at writing a book! :) 

but part 8 is coming!! i promise 

anyways as far as this request goes, you’ve come to the right place bc i’ve relatively recently ended a period where my anxiety was super heightened and was having panic attacks over a lot,, so this one is for all my anxious icons 

also i wasn’t sure if you wanted headcanons or a fic,, so i’m doing both!! a few headcanons at the start and then at the end of this post there’ll be a little fic/drabble 

Billy Loomis with a s/o that deals with panic attacks headcanons: 

- He definitely gets better over time!! Like before you, he’s probably experienced bouts of anxiety (i definitely feel like he has abandonment issues and that his father makes him feel anxious) but would never think to refer to it that way or consider it that. 

- At first, he might be wary of the concept of panic attacks and might have even gone as far as to consider them some kind of ‘weakness’, but after getting closer to you, he becomes more aware of how hard it is to go through something like that. 

- He’ll make jokes about how tough you were,, and he does start to feel like it does show how strong you are, but he’ll always take it with a grain of salt. It’s not that he thinks you’re ‘weaker’ than others,, it’s just that he actually cares about you so he’s more protective.

-  In his mind, he might view you as a little ‘sensitive’, or at least more sensitive than him,, but his bar for sensitivity is extremely low. Like just knowing you’re not into murder would make you seem a little ‘sensitive’ bc of how he’s wired/his mindset. 

- This isn’t something he’s cruel about, just something he’s aware of and honestly just makes him more protective. Always being aware of where you are in social settings, not liking when you’re out alone, analyzing how people talk about/to keep them in check if you’re not the kind of person that instantly jumps to confrontation. 

- Billy isn’t always the best at expressing emotions through words, but when he cares, actually cares about someone, it’s easy to tell if you take a second to think about how he treats you because of how observant he is when someone actually matters. 

- He knows your triggers/can sense when a panic attack is about to happen better than you do. It’s a talent, the way he picks up on things and redirects in an attempt to either prevent or limit the extent of the panic attack.

- One time you had just started registering the beginning of that impending sense of doom in your stomach at a party and Billy was already guiding you out, firm yet limited contact in the form of his hand on your back. 

- Because of Billy’s family issues, he is the type to pull away from time to time for a few reasons that all connect back to him wanting to see how much you actually care about him. It’s rarely overly mean, it’s a little impulsive and subtle. Tiny comments, blowing you off from time to time if he felt like you seemed a little too close with someone else (even if it was just friendly--after all, he’s supposed to be your favorite person in all senses). But if this triggered your anxiety, he’d honestly feel guilt. 

- Okay, whether or not Billy’s capable of actual ‘guilt’ is something I go back and forth on, but with the very few people he actually cares about, especially you, he’s capable of feeling something close to ‘guilt’, only it’s a tiny bit warped in his favor. He feels bad about you going through that and feels like his actions causing it is unfortunate and he doesn’t want to hurt you, but there’s a separation between action and consequence that prevents him from feeling terribly responsible, especially if he comforts you during/after. 

- If you were to have a panic attack over him pulling away, it’d honestly feed his ego a little and calm him down. Like an ‘okay, you definitely actually care’ thing. 

- But don’t worry, Billy’s not intentionally causing panic attacks regularly! After he learns about your triggers, he teaches himself to keep his moodiness confined to them. Ideally, he’d never feel the need to pull away, but he is a serial killer with a sense of empathy that is both skewed and limited. You might be the exception to his general apathy towards most other people, but that doesn’t overcome everything. It’s not that he’s choosing to be moody and toxic from time to time, it’s instinctual. But at least he knows what the limits are and makes a conscious choice to not push past that in this case!

- Anyways,, during actual panic attacks, his ability to read your cues is extremely helpful. He can tell if you want space or some kind of reassurance before you ask, but he tries making a point of narrating what he’s doing. It’s so he doesn’t sneak up on you by accident (he’s gotten a little too good at moving in silence) and it’s an attempt to give you something else to focus on. 

- If you want reassurance, he’ll stay by your side as long as you want. Depending on the severity of the panic attack, he’ll stay even longer but never admit it’s to check in on you. 

- “I’m feeling a lot better now and I know it’s been awhile, so if you want to go to bed or something, that’s okay.” “I’m not still up for you, I wanted to watch this movie.” 

- If you want space, he’ll ‘give’ you space. Meaning that he’ll leave your side once you’re in some kind of safe space to get you a glass of water and/or meds if you need/take them. If you still want/need to be left completely alone for awhile he’ll stay outside the room you’re in, but just at the door to make sure you’re safe. 

- Honestly, he doesn’t love that arrangement. Waiting while you have a panic attack with a door between the two of you makes him feel a little uneasy (and at times a tad rejected, but he fights against that bc this is one in a few circumstances that he can at the very least rationally understand that it isn’t personal, but those intrusive thoughts don’t always listen). 

- He prefers when you let him stay around, even if you want no physical contact because just being in the same room feels like a high level of trust. 

- If you want/need physical contact, he’ll be on it in a second,, shedding any pretext of seeming clingy or his angsty persona to comfort you silently. He has a talent for knowing the right amount of contact too, knowing when you just need him to hold your hand or if you need to be pulled into a hug until you calm down. 

- Also, kind of random, but Billy for sure makes a point of noting who he believes is responsible for your panic attacks. Like if it’s over stress bc of a certain class, Billy will never forget the teacher. If it’s a result of going somewhere that a friend urged you to or someone’s mean to you, Billy will never forget them. 

- This doesn’t necessarily mean Ghostface starts calling them but he’ll find a way to “get even” in one sense or another. Maybe he’s a little meaner to them for a few days or he’ll get Stu to target jokes at them for awhile. It might be petty or crueler than that, but there will be some form of “pay back”. It doesn’t matter how accidental or innocent or vaguely connected that person was, they’ll be targeted in some way or another. 

- Another kind of random headcanon in the same vein is that if anyone ever called you dramatic or implied that you were making it up for attention or tried to make you seem/feel crazy or broken, well,, they’d get way worse than temporary meanness. That’d likely be enough for their number to end up on Ghostface’s radar. It might take some time in order to make it less suspicious, but we all know Billy’s okay with the long game when it comes to revenge!!

Here’s a little blurb of reader having a panic attack (i keep the details of the panic attack vague to avoid triggering anyone and also bc bc panic attacks can present themselves in different ways)

-----

You’re pacing again, steps less rhythmic than before. You make it from one end of the bathroom to the other in a few long strides just to come back in short, uneven steps. It’s different than when Billy first got you away from the crowded noisiness of Stu’s party, when you just sat on the rim of the tub, practically frozen with a far off look in your eye. 

Billy isn’t sure if your ever shifting pacing is an improvement to the stillness, but he decides that it’s easier to be active when you’re moving. “Careful,” he mumbles, vaguely noting your reaction, “You’re one bad move away from slipping on the bathmat.” 

You frown, the expression a little too blunt for Billy to consider it natural. But if you’re together enough to try to humor him, that’s a good enough sign for now. “I’m not gonna--” Your breath hitches, getting in the way of your words. “Gonna slip.” 

Your voice is heavy and your eyes are glassy. “That bathmat’s taken out a lot of people. Last time Stu got drunk, he ran in here and almost hit his head against the sink.” 

At your shaky, scoffed laugh, Billy pushes himself away from the wall. He takes one step towards you, making sure that it’s audible. You’re staring at the ground, body tense and breaths uneven. He notes the tension in your knuckles as your hands become fists. There’s a chance that your nails are digging into the skin of your palm and Billy resists the urge to tell you to ease up before you hurt yourself.

He learned early on that asking you to do something isn’t the best way to get it to happen when you’re feeling like this, heart racing and breathing unstable. A softer approach with firmer guiding.

Billy takes another step forward, monitoring your expression. He extends his hands slowly, hovering them over yours. You nod, the motion rigid but all the approval he needs. He covers your fists with his hands, running his thumbs over both sets of knuckles. “Let me hold your hand?” 

An almost sniffle followed by the slow unclenching of your hands. Billy wastes no time in intertwining your fingers before you can seize up again. This close, the shift of warmth all that anxiety caused is even easier to see. Your undertones are off in a way that make you look like you should be tucked into bed and downing fluids to ward off a fever. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

The question surprises you. It takes you a second to answer. “Um-nothing--nothing.” Your eyes flit from the ground to your intertwined hands and then back to the ground. “Really--I just--” You sniffle, swallowing in an attempt to fight the lump in your throat. “I can’t think, I just--” 

“That’s okay,” he says quickly, voice a little harder than he means it to be. If you think his approach is aggressive, you don’t show it. You just let your angle your chin downwards briefly in what’s meant to be a nod. “Are you feeling better?” 

It’s a bit of an obvious question. He doubts that the feelings have truly been able to diminish. You’re not in the ideal environment. Though the bathroom door dulls the loud party music, the sound is still pounding. The guest bath is also kind of small and the florescent lighting is harsh and blinding compared to the dimly lit atmosphere Billy had shuffled you out of. But you’re no longer far away, divided from him and taken to that place in your head that he can never follow you to. 

“A little,” your words are hushed, hollow. “It just--there’s this feeling in my chest and it--it won’t go away.” 

Billy squeezes your hands briefly, a small pulse of warmth in an attempt to anchor you. “I know.” Your eyes are tearing up again, watery and red rimmed. “We’ll go to your place. You’ll feel better when you’re home, okay?” When you say nothing, he continues, “I’ll tuck you in, we can watch a movie if you want.” You nod again, the motion uneasy. “Your pick.” 

Your eyes meet his at that. The thought fills you with more warmth than you thought possible. It doesn’t melt away that impending sense of doom and dread that’s burrowed itself deeply into your chest, but it gives you something to hold onto. A light at the end of frightening tunnel. 

And then, the guilt sinks in. You’re dragging him away from his best friend’s parties. Sure, Stu does this pretty regularly and more often than not Billy’s happy to turn away early, but you’re taking away his ability to choose. “You know-the--the water helped. If you wanna...” You don’t want him to stay, you don’t want him to leave your side. Not now. Maybe never again. “I know that this is Stu’s party, so...” 

“Stu doesn’t care,” the defense comes out quick, “And if he did, he wouldn’t notice because he’s completely out of it. You saw him.” You don’t ease, so Billy continues, “And if he did, it wouldn’t matter.” 

The words take their time sinking in. “I--” You can’t get the words out. It all feels so dumb now and that overwhelming feeling hasn’t dislodged itself from your chest and you can’t think straight. You’ve had this conversation before--you always feel a little bad when this happens at times like this and then that allows your thoughts to spiral. Thoughts on how much better off he’d be if you weren’t here. 

He lifts your left hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles. “You know I--” Billy pauses, taking in the way your eyes widen. “You’re it for me.” The words are sandpaper, but the way you look at him makes it worth it. “And, you know not everything’s about you.” Your eyebrows pull together and Billy continues, “I want to go.” 

You nod, pulling one hand away to wipe the back of your palm across your face. “Okay.” You glance at your expression in the mirror and consider splashing some water on your face. It’d help how you look, but the party is so dimly lit and everyone’s caught up in their own world. “I’m ready.” 

Billy gently pulls on your hand, keeping you close as he unlocks the bathroom door. 

[eric-the-bmo]

Blood and Silicon ep14: Yen/Conversations

[Summary: Blake plans to get rid of Kyra. Leo has some questions for Yen. Pauline doesn't want to get involved. After some bargaining, a plan is formed.] @kentuckycaverats

Blake, still standing over the body of Kyra, asks Pauline to go get some things from the back of his car, allowing her to take his keys. She takes a mental note and heads on over to his car.

Meanwhile Leo is trying his Very Best to stall, and glances over his shoulder to see Asha close the car door- the man follows his gaze, and Leo's like "hey yeah thanks for your directions I'll be off now" but it's like, super awkward bc now they're walking in the same direction?? oh my god.

Anyway so Pauline shows up at this point on her way to Blake's car, and tries to block the window of Asha's hotwired car with herself as the man walks past, and he kinda narrows his eyes because he's all "is this some kind of drug deal or something," but he keeps walking because that's really none of his business.

Asha gets out of the car once he passes like "hey, is everything okay?" and gets informed it's all good, Blake took care of Kyra. Leo and Pauline check in on each other (they're semi-friends, your honor), and Pauline asks Leo to check on Blake to make sure he's okay. Leo doesn't really want to, since he dislikes Blake at the moment, but he goes off to do so anyway.

So he walks into the alley and sees that Blake is contorting Kyra's body in a way to easily put her in something, and that he's dug through her backpack to see if there's anything he can take. Her spear is next to him.

["What the fuck."]

Blake hears Leo's comment, and turns a bit to face him. He asks if Asha's there, and tells him to tell Pauline to grab another thing out of his trunk, as he forgot something on the list he gave her, and Leo is just like. ough. Fuck dude, sure, he'll go do that. Fine.

So he heads on over, and as Pauline is getting things out of Blake's trunk- a duffel bag, a water bottle, some trash bags, and now some blue towels- she's all "Hey. You seem pissed off. Do you want a cigarette, maybe we can talk about?" except more Formal, because this is Pauline here. Leo says he'll take her up on the offer later.

Blake sees the Malkavians return with the stuff he requested, and as he starts to clean the blood off himself with the water he asks them to keep an eye on Yen and Asha, bc hey something weird happened back there (his Frenzy) and he wants to know what's up with that. Pauline goes off to tell Asha they should probably move the hotwired car in case the owner gets back. Leo goes off on a walk ig, and once he's out of earshot Blake begins to break some of Kyra's bones so that she can fit inside one of the duffel bags.

There's a whole bit where Pauline and Asha go off to put the car somewhere else, and Leo goes invisible bc oh shit, the owner of the car is back, but Pauline heads over to use Dominate to tell her she actually parked her car five blocks down. It's all chill, besides the fact Leo's headache is a bit worse now.

Blake puts Kyra's body, now in the bag, in his car, and promises Pauline he'll get rid of it- she really doesn't want anything to come back and bite us. The coterie heads over to Asha's hotwired car, with Blake getting there first. He opens the door to take a look at Yen- she's face-down, having been staked in the back/chest area, and Blake rolls her over. Her face is frozen in some kind of vulnerable, frightened expression, and her hood is down.

There's a third eye on her forehead.

Blake is shocked to see this, saying that this practically changes everything and why didn't Asha tell them about this? She says that she didn't know either! She was just doing what Harrison told her, and he didn't give her a lot of details! Leo and Pauline approach at this point, both with cigarettes, to hear Asha say that this was more than the coterie had bargained for, so she's owing them a favor so that there's no hard feelings down the line. Blake doesn't trust Asha, but he's civil- he cashes in the offer immediately, requesting that the coterie speak to Yen alone.

She agrees, and the details are as such: Asha will sit in her car to watch but not hear, while the coterie talk to Yen in Blake's car; he gives the keys to Asha, so she knows we won't drive off.

And so the coterie is alone with Yen, still staked and unconscious in the back of the car. Music is softly playing Blake nods to Leo, as if to say "go on, this is your chance to talk to her." Leo is very confused on why Blake did this for him, but reaches over and pulls out the stake.

["Good evening."]

Yen doesn't seem fond of the idea of being questioned- she's scared- but Pauline says being staked was better than what the other Kindred got. Leo asks to speak with Yen alone; the other members ask if he's sure, and he's all "you can just sit right outside the car doors." Once alone, he leans forward, and asks what she saw. She tells him, and asks him a question in response that I cannot repeat. He tells her the truth.

["Do the others not know?" She asks. "Is that why you asked them to leave?" He's quiet, hands held together. "I think it's best if they don't know."]

He asks Yen about her eye, and learns she got it when she was Embraced; she's a Salubri, a rare kind of vampire. Leo connects that's why she must be hunted, and asks for confirmation.

["Probably." She looks down. "My sire didn't get the chance to tell me everything."

...Oh.]

Yen wants to leave- she's not done in this city, she wants to know what she can do to get out alive. After a failed joke ("Well, technically-" "You know what I mean") Leo rolls down the windows like "so i got the answers i wanted but also, Guys we gotta do something."

They're like "why," and he says it's unfair she's being hunted down solely due to her bloodline. Leo relays their question to Yen if she knows what a Tremere is, and she responds it's probably one of the many clans that want her dead.

Blake tells Leo to roll up the window again, and then asks Pauline for her thoughts. It turns out she doesn't want to help.

[Her brows furrowed. "Are we sure this is a path we want to go down?Blake points to Yen through the glass. "That's a fucking unicorn in my car right now. That's part of our business now."]

Pauline says that only reinforces her wanting to distance herself from all this, if Harrison wants a Salubri— Blake counters that Leo's been through a lot, so shouldn't they at least give him this? Pauline's expression softens, and she goes to speak to Asha about it.

Asha says she's willing to work with Pauline on this- as long as Yen cooperates, she'll be fine if we give her to Harrison; If the coterie wants to talk to him, though, then they can do that. Blake is mulling something over as he hears this.

There's a violin case next to Leo- she asks for it, and takes it out of the case, beginning to tune it. They have a conversation about it; Leo thinks it's impressive, and she mentions she used to play before her Embrace. He's trying very hard to focus on her tuning the violin- don't look at her chest wound. (It would be a bad idea at 3 Hunger, probably.)

Leo's phone gets a notification- it's from Blake.

[Blake: If you want me to talk to Harrison, let me know Leo: Why would you do that? Blake: Because you would've asked me to.]

Leo responds after a moment that yes, he'd like to talk to Harrison about this. Blake texts him the plan: Pauline and Asha will stay with Yen, while Blake and Leo will go talk to Harrison- after getting rid of Kyra's body, of course.

Leo tells Yen they'll be back in a moment- they're going to help her. Upon her asking why he's doing this, he says he wants to help.

["Just stay in the car or else you might be in more trouble." "Do I have any other option?" It was a bitter response. She softened, just a bit. "...Thank you, I think."]

The coterie transfer Yen to Asha's car, informing the Tremere of the plan. She asks if they're going to throw her under the bus, and Blake denies that. Asha tells them that Harrison has a fondness for fellow Malkavians, and especially Leo in particular. The coterie decides upon advice given to us that Asha should probably call Harrison- he would pick up if it was her, and she can set an appointment for the boys to talk to him.

As she calls the Baron, that ends the session...

(Join us next time for disposing a body and talking to our scary boss!!)

Notes/Commentary:

Leo views Pauline as a sort-of friend I'm so ,,

Percy's cameo is now over :pensive: the fact he figured it was a drug deal and decided that's not his problem?? Hilarious.

Leo's "what the fuck" was just a thing I said in response to that scene, but I figured it would be funny if he Also said that

BLAKE. I want to study this man fr. He's just so chill over this.

Wow I'm realizing a lot of this is just Leo walking back and forth lmao. Sorry dude

Where's the director's cut scene of Leo and Pauline lighting their cigarettes together /lh

"Good evening." Leo that's kinda funny, why would you say that

YENNNNNNNNN

Pauline/Percy's player pointed out that Leo probably has no idea how wild it is to even be interacting with a Salubri!!! He doesn't!! Aaa!!!

I'm also very normal about Leo's response to her question. Dude why did you say that

Hi everyone let's talk about how Leo, through that little "technically we're not alive" joke, made a comment about how he's dead. Which is a thing he's confirmed to have not liked thinking about. Has he finally accepted/come to terms with that??? oughguhg.

HI. PAULINE'S EXPRESSION SOFTENING??? Theyre friends ur honor,,, (kinda)

The ST knew what he was doing when Yen told Leo her sire didn't tell her much!!! oh my god /pos

Theres literally no need for Leo to have told Yen his name was Michael again. They're going to help her, why is he still doing that /lh. man of lies

Leo. Leo u better get pissed off at Blake next session.

If we manage to keep Yen around can you imagine how cool that would be. Salubri pal.,,,

I'm- Okay. The fact Harrison has an interest in Leo ["fondness for Malkavians, especially Leo in particular"]- That makes me Intrigued and Concerned. I kinda know Why, i think, but that doesn't make it any better!! I'm very concerned for my son!!!