I vaguely feel like people say Be Safe to me as a goodbye more often than when I was younger? but even if that's the case I don't have any sense of when that would have started. or like particularly if it would have been since I came out, since the pandemic started, or since I moved to this city

how's your heart after breaking mine?

ts x jolex week 21

day one: fearless - mr. perfectly fine (taylor's verion) (from the vault)

wc: 2.5k

pairing: Jo Wilson/Alex Karev. Alex Karev/Izzie Steven (mentioned)

summary: years after they last saw each other, jo and alex reunite at a conference, and while she is still struggling from her heartache, he seems to be mr. perfectly fine.

rating: general audiences

category: angst.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, alcohol consumption.

A/N: guess who finished this just now? me. that's who. I was actually working on this one long before the announcement for this event came out, but it gave me the motivation to continue this! Alex is unintentionally an ass in this and for that, i’m sorry. Anyways… hope you enjoy! (first part's pretty crappy, but after that it gets better.)

(this was also proofread, like...once, so of there are a plethora of errors i apologize)

____

The absolute last thing Jo wanted right now was to attend a medical conference in Salt Lake City, Utah. There were multiple reasons why she should’ve said no. One; she had just started her second year of her OB GYN residency a few weeks prior, and there were a very limited number of lectures on her new line of study where she was headed. Two; she now held an absolute hatred for the Seattle Tacoma International Airport, since it was the place where her ex-husband stood before her, placed a soft kiss on her lips and promised to see her in a couple of weeks, lying to her face about seeing his mother in Iowa, when in reality he was going to see his ex-wife and kids, never really planning on returning home.

It was ironic really; how not even two years ago, she was standing in front of gate 48, saying goodbye to him, and now she stood in the same spot, in front of the exact same gate, with him nowhere near her side as she glared up at the same exact entrance she last saw him at.

(She also now hated the number forty-eight)

But, since Meredith had been hounding her non-stop about attending this event, she gave in. Because how was she supposed to say no to the woman who had barely survived the pandemic? Along with a plethora of other things she was too lazy to memorize. (The answer was that she couldn’t. She felt guilty for leaving Meredith behind for OB, so she now did whatever her former mentor wanted, even if more than two years had passed) If Meredith Grey asked for something, Meredith Grey got it. She was turning back into the intern who cried fake tears and would do anything to earn her approval, and Jo was not a fan.

“It’ll be good for you Wilson. You need to leave that loft of your’s and go somewhere Wilson, blah blah blah,” she mutters to herself as she shows the attendant her ticket, not even bothering to return the smile, settling on brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear instead. The messy bun on the top of her head bounced in place, and she felt like a college student after a night of studying, but rather than books tucked under her arm it was a neck pillow and a carry-on.

She shuffles into her seat, thankful that it was an aisle one before letting her eyes shut, trying to catch a wink of sleep in an attempt to make up for the less than few hours she had gotten the night before. It proves to be unsuccessful, because the businessman sitting next to her ate his chips so loud she had to restrain herself from coiling into herself every time a chip crunched beneath his teeth, and the toddler behind her continuously managed to kick her seat, no matter how many times his mother told him to stop.

After three hours of loud chewing, seat kicking, and crying babies, she lands in Salt Lake, taking in a deep breath when she finally escapes the crowded airport and is met with humid air. She picks up her rental car, and arrives at her hotel not long after, immediately tossing her bags into the corner and sprawling onto the bed. Eventually, she moves to unpack her clothes and other necessities, casting a glance at the clock which read 10:37.

Taking a look around the room, she decided that nothing more needs to be done; all of her makeup is laid out for the morning, and what she chose to wear is already hanging up in the closet, freshly ironed and wrinkle-free. She yawns, crawling under the covers and flicking off the light, sleep coming easily.

When she wakes up the next morning to her alarm clock going off, she’s freshly rested and in a better mood than she normally was when she had to wake up before nine. The early morning sun beats down onto her face, and she knows that if she wanted to get to the first lecture on time, she needed to start getting ready sooner rather than later.

With a sigh, she begrudgingly gets out of bed, hopping in a quick shower and changing into her clothes. She adds some soft waves to her hair, in the hopes that it made her look more put together than she felt. It didn’t seem that just because she got hours of sleep made up for the fact that she would rather be curled up in the soft sheets of her bed at home than the stiff ones the hotel provided.

It doesn’t take long until she’s arrived in the lobby, where doctors all around her were dressed in firmly pressed suits and skirts. Tables advertising different events throughout the day were lined up and down the hallways, fellow surgeons and mentees passing out little pamphlets with information about their courses littering the pages.

Jo passes by a few stands displaying lectures on the OBGYN field, mentally making a list of the ones she would like to attend.

A quick glance to her watch tells her that the first item on her list was starting soon, and with that she dumps the now-empty coffee cup she had ordered a few minutes prior as a pick-me-up, and shuffles into the seat of the auditorium, the chairs around her filling up quicker than she expects.

It’s only a few minutes later Dr. Maria Cavanaugh steps out onto the stage, silencing the crowd after a round of applause. Jo leans back into her seat, feeling grateful that Meredith had pushed her to go to this conference.

If her whole weekend is spent listening to experts talk and teach about her new specialty, she thinks she’s going to enjoy it.

____

It’s hours and a multitude of lectures later when she exits another grand room, fellow surgeons beside her chatting about the new information they’d acquired. She feels a small smile grace her lips as she realizes that the excited squeals could only come from the med school students that had been invited from the nearby college.

She pulls out her phone, seeing a text from Link and Meredith, both along the lines of that they hoped she arrived safely and that she enjoyed her time away from home. She responds, pocketing her phone and making her way to the hotel bar, settling into one of the few empty seats and ordering a whiskey sour, thanking the bartender when it's placed in front of her not even a minute later.

She sips the drink slowly, feeling some leftover tenseness from sitting all day leave her body as the alcohol starts to flow through her veins. She was far from drunk, but even saying tipsy felt like too much of a stretch.

Pleasantly buzzed, she decides on, taking another sip of her drink, making a brief second of eye contact with a man on the other end of the bar. He raises her glass with a slight nod of his head, and she does the same. She’s tempted to continue; take use of the way the man’s making subtle glances to the seat next to him when her ears pick up another conversion from a few feet away, freezing her in place, glass nearly dropping to the floor.

“Do you want anything?”

“Just a water’s fine. I’m gonna go talk to Dr. Conwell about some of the research her and her team were talking about.”

She turns in her seat, against her better judgment. She watches as he kisses her cheek before leaning against the bar’s counter a few feet away.

She feels as if ice had just been dropped down her back —frozen in place, unable to move as she watches Alex drum his fingers on the dark wood, head nodding along to the soft tune playing through the speakers. He grabs his drinks from the bartender; two waters, one with ice and one without, about to walk towards the woman he was with earlier when he spots her.

“Jo?” he questions, blinking multiple times as if to see if it was really her, and not a trick of the light.

She wants to run when he makes his way over to her. She wants to run, and scream, and throw her drink in his face. But instead, she places a tight, thin smile on her lips and acts as if nothing was wrong.

“Alex, hi!” She turns to face him, her voice too high for her enthusiasm to be true, but if he knows it he doesn’t make any move to show it.

He runs a hand through his hair —it's longer than the last time she saw it, a bit of grey speckled in so lightly that it wouldn’t be noticeable to someone who wasn’t looking.”I uh, I didn't know you’d be here.”

She wants to roll her eyes, but refrains. “Well,” she spins her drink with the straw, watching as the ice cubes clink against the glass “The feeling’s mutual.”

“How are you?” He asks after a few beats of silence, and she wants nothing more than to yell at him that he couldn’t talk to her like this —like they were old friends who had lost contact after a while, and were due for a catch up. Because they weren’t old friends. They were so far from friends that someone could build a bridge with the amount of space they had between them.

“Fine,” she lies through her teeth, her heart nearly beating out of her chest in nervousness. She was worried that she was going to break down at any second, spew the words that she had said to Carly in anger at him if he looked at her any longer as if things were okay between them.

“You?” she questions, not interested in the answer, sipping her drink similarly to how she had the night of Bailey’s wedding, the unwelcome memory of the start of their relationship blossoming to the front of her mind.

He sips his water, “Good. I’ve been good.”

With his hand clasped around the glass she catches sight of the pristine, shiny gold ring that sits on his fourth finger, and she has to fight back the growing lump in her throat that threatens to escape.

“Congrats,” she says instead, eyebrows pinched together as she nods towards the ring, a tell that always told whether or not her words rang true.

He seems to have forgotten that, and takes her words as a compliment. He gives her a small smile, “Thanks.”

Jo wants to laugh, because this was so far from the Alex Karev she had known, the man in front of her unfamiliar and so, so different from the one she married years ago. The Alex she knew would’ve never ordered a water instead of a beer, or act as if everything was okay between them when it was so far from it.

He’d changed, and she couldn’t say that she liked it.

“How are the kids?” she asks, and she can tell that she’s surprised him. He looks taken aback for a moment, before smiling gently and reaching into his pocket for his phone. “They’re great,” he says, pulling up a photo of them, the twins smiling brightly into the camera.

“That was at their birthday party last week,” he explains, and she notices the large 7 balloons that are floating in the background.

“He looks like you,” she comments about the boy. He grins, and she wants nothing more than to slap him for not being able to see that she’s so obviously hurting, that her heart is breaking inside of her chest. That she selfishly wants him to say that he made a mistake, that he was in love with her, not Izzie. But her life wasn’t a trashy romance novel, and even if it was, Alex was never one to admit to his faults, his pride and ego too large to have it bruised in such a way.

She had always wondered what he had been up to after he had left. If he was okay. She’d imagined different futures for him, some including Izzie and the kids, some of them not. She’s even naively envisioned ones with her and the children they had always talked about having one day.

Somedays, when she was feeling worse for wear, she had wished that he was miserable —that he and Izzie weren’t together and as far as they went communication-wise was a phone call to see who had the kids that week; that he was as alone and bitter as she was.

But instead, here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. The man who had looked her in the eyes and told her he would never go away.

Here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. Married to the woman he had left her for, a shiny gold ring on his finger instead of neat, polished wood.

For the past two years she’d been picking up the pieces of herself that he had shattered and left behind, only just starting to put herself back together, and here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. While she was piecing together her shattered heart, he was picking up her, the woman he had left her for.

She had thought that he was different from the rest; different from everyone who had ever left her. But he wasn’t —the man she had thought was so different was so exactly the same as everyone else.

“I’m sorry, Jo.” he says, and she has the urge to laugh —laugh because he wasn’t sorry, she could tell. He was sorry that he left her and caused her pain, sure. But he wasn’t sorry that he had done it, that he had married Izzie again and lived with her and his kids on a farm in the middle of Kansas. He wasn’t sorry about that at all.

Mr. Insincere Apology so he didn’t look like the bad guy.

She acts as if she believes him, giving him another tight smile, and lies through her teeth once more. “It’s fine Alex. It’s in the past.”

Jo checks phone, making a face when she ‘realizes’ the time, eager to get out of there as soon as she could. “I need to go, early morning,” she fibs, and she internally rolls her eyes at how he believes her. While he seemed to have forgotten everything about her, she still remembers every detail about him.

“It was nice seeing you again Jo,” he’s playing with the sleeves of his jacket and his eyes meet hers, and for less than a second it’s almost enough to break her resolve.

Another tight smile graces her lips, and she begins to walk away when her body fights her mind and she finds herself leaning down, her lips against his ear.

“I’m glad it was worth it, Alex.”

Her voice is harsh and bitter, yet broken, and she doesn’t need to look at him to know that his face has fallen, and he’s realized that everything she’d told him that night was a lie. She turns and lets the tears fall silently, making her way back up to her room with a head full of thoughts about her ex-husband, about Alex Karev.

About Mr. Perfectly Fine.

____

@thejolexgroupchat #tsjolexweek21

I feel lonely tonight, the pandemic makes you distance yourself a little from those you love. It would be nice to see the allies and the axis in a super cheesy situation when seeing each other after a long time due to the pandemic with their partner and realizing that the spark between them is not gone, and they make love after a long time.

*Breathes out pure fluff* Yes- YES ANON! GENIUS ANON IS! Genius anon has made hetalia Secretary happy! Happy for a thousand days! (I'm sorry, I may have... Overreacted...)

Trigger Warning: Romantically Sexual themes

My NSFW tag is 'handsypandsy' For those who are uncomfortable with sensual things.

Allies and Axis rekindle a flame with their S/O after quarantine

Allies:

America:

It was a very painful experience for Alfred. Regardless if they lived together or not, having to be somewhat distanced sucked. He wanted nothing more than to hug and kiss his S/O but due to his job, having to quarantine became a regular for a couple months. Every phone call he'd profusely apologize to his lover, already expecting them to get bored and leave. But when the time finally came he sprinted into his house, slightly spooking his S/O with the door being whipped open, and immediately showering them with kisses and cuddles. It was almost out of character, but the briny tears soaking his cheeks made his S/O realize just how anxious he was. What started out with panicked kisses soon formed into gentle caresses, and drawn out moans as each party seemed overly sensitive to the touch that they so desperately missed. Clothing staying out, and hardly moved as they had grinded like two stones against each other. The bed that night stayed empty as the two did their romancing on the floor in the living room. Bare skin finally making it's grand entrance, and turning red from the forgotten sensation of making love. A movie they had tried to watch together Beforehand illuminated their bodies as they moved in sync. Gripping, and grasping for anything to help them to keep the pace steady. Both their panting and lustrous sighs hidden by the sound of the credits as the movie ended. The hot and heavy haze in the room had caressed the lovers to sleep in each other's arms. Both satisfied and feeling the safety and familiarity of their skin. Morning had come and Alfred's Sleeping partner was out of sight, but the smell of breakfast eased his worry, and he waddled to his lover. He had sneakily turned the flames off and whisked his S/O back to their spot on the floor, promising to take them out after one more round. Except the second time around was more for the fun of it, and whatever worries they had vanished.

England:

His S/O wasn't very far from him, so it took him all of his being to not see them. Phone calls weren't good enough, even with the suggestions of having intimate moments through the phone cables. It just didn't feel right. He began to worry it would never be the same, and this was what it felt like to drift away from someone. Once he was in the clear and could see his S/O again he bought flowers and take out in hopes that he could convince them to stay with him. To his surprise his S/O pulled him in, the flowers dropping outside on the doorstep, and they kissed him. He pulled back, his face shocked and flushing. But that soon turned into a playful grin as he convinced them their mealtime was slightly more important. As they ate Arthur and his S/O exchanged goofy noodle slurping faces, and stole from each other's plates, the atmosphere turning warm and comfortable. Yet it had a sense of urgency that was fully ignored by both lovers as they indulged in each other's presence. Clean up after the meal was going to wait as England decided to make the next move. With sincere words he held his lover in his arms and let every one of his worries slip past his lips. His concerns fading with every reassurance his S/O provided. Soon enough they had made their way to the bedroom, lips locked and hands loaded like springs. Trying so desperately to remember nights they had like this. Their clothes were pulled from their bodies as if they needed a desperate reminder of their soft skin and joints. He was smooth on his feet as he held his lover down to the blankets, and promised them more than just a good night. He wanted them to remember this moment for everyday after. He wanted them to feel loved, and wanted nothing more than to give them the love they desired. Putting his intrusive thoughts to the grave he gave them every inch of his emotions and attention, almost neglecting his own. No matter the sensation he made sure they were both well relieved, and confident the other would be there by morning.

France:

This was the biggest challenge he's ever faced. He felt like he worked so hard to keep his S/O around, and this cursed pandemic was about to shatter it. But with every phone call, and every video chat he was given more and more hope they're his still. His goal when he found his way into their arm was to make sure they knew he was still theirs as well. He kissed them, held them, and soothed ever single nerve they had until it was as still and unwavering as a lake in the early morning. No more talk about sickness, no more paranoia of the air, or touching being infectious. They were both given the chance to feel again, even for just one night, and he was going to make sure they took it. He picked them up and brought them to the bed, playfully trapping them in the blankets. After shortly joining them under the covers he asked them about how the distance made them feel. Upon learning how needy it made them for his touch, it felt like a thousand roses had bloomed from his chest. He made every move and touch painfully slow. Looking into his sweet Darling's eyes for consent for every inch of movement. But when the final connection of limbs and loins happen, he let every ounce of his adoration for them flow. He grabbed and caressed at random sections of their bodies, allowing them to instruct his movements, via by their moan or their words. He worshipped them, and their affection. Even after the high of their passion simmered down, he held them close, smothering them with soft kisses and adoring talk about being in that position forever, where not even hunger will stop him from moving their relaxed figure.

China:

He had the patience to wait it out, but that did not mean it was without it's agony. Truth be told he'd rather not hear the sweet voice of his S/O. It only made things harder, but he couldn't say no to the phone when it rang. It wasn't the time that went by that concerned him. It was the lost look on his S/O face when they realized they didn't love him anymore. It plagued him, and haunted his soul more than getting sick. He was a country so he'd survive, but he really only did this to protect his precious gem. But to his surprise he heard the knocking come from his door. Gladly accepting a distraction from his thoughts he opened it. He thought he was dreaming as his S/O stood there. He was so lost in thought he didn't realize their time to quarantine was up, and he was way past the time he promised to meet up with them. His heart ached and he assumed it was the final straw to the relationship, but that fear went away as his S/O embraced them, concern that he was mad or upset. The laughter that filled the room, as he explained how he managed to lose track of time with his own untrusting thoughts, gave them both relief. Soon enough they had found other ways to relieve their worries away. It started with china feeding them what they desired. He saw the chance to wipe away some leftover crumbs from their face, but chose to do so with his lips, than to do so with a napkin. The shock that came with the sensation pushed them both over the edge as they kissed and bite into soft flesh. Not tearing or bruising it, but simply testing the reality of the situation. They soon allowed themselves to become whole as the smell of warm food coated the room, but gave way to the lover's hunger for each other's affections, and bodies. It wasn't a completely soft reunion for too many hours were missed. But the sensation had them on cloud nine with every thrust or caress. Their inner flames peaking, and going out several times before they had exhausted their physical strength. Ending their love making session with tired smiles, and rumbling bellies. Though they felt weakened from their activities they had managed to carry themselves off to bed with a few plated of food to sedate earlier's, original, hunger.

Russia:

Between the cold winds, and the familiar taste of loneliness, Russia was suffering greatly. He called his S/O time and time again, just to hear their voice. Just to hear their affections reach to him through the phone. He feared he'd retrieve some form of addiction to this form of communication if the quarantine lasted any longer. He thought day in, and day out about his S/O to try and quench the foreign desires that kept him up at night. Embarrassed by his fantasies that started out innocent, but ended in something more raw and carnal. His S/O would soon hear more apologies for something Ivan couldn't bring himself to admit to. But when the day arrived he could see them again, any other words told to him by his boss were cut short as he rushed out of his home and directly to his little bear. Covered in snow, and almost freezing to death, his S/O dragged him inside, their motherly concern giving Russia a familiar warmth that surpassed a hearth's. He quickly shed his coat and boots. Taking his scarf he tied tied his S/O to him, telling them they were not allowed to be apart like that again. Endearment ran through his fingertips as he gently touched their face, a guilty look as he cautiously admitted to his sensual fantasies. The shame he wore in his body language signaled his S/O to start to coax him out of his intrusive thoughts, and into bed with them. Filling the space in between with comforting words, and an 'I missed you just as badly'. That's all Ivan needed to hear before letting himself take charge of the situation. His actions were rushed, and desperate. His lips and teeth traveling from their lips, to their neck, and to the collar of their shirt. Large hands squeezed and carefully probed his sunflower's flesh as they both quickly shed their clothing, not caring where the items fell to. Russia came to a halt as one final look of remorse masked his face. Sensitive to his needs his S/O egged him on with soft kisses of their own. The following friction and suffocating adoration was the only feelings present in the shared hours to come. Russia had allowed himself a tear or two to shed as the salt mixed with saliva of their kisses. With each worry came waves of pleasure, melting it away. Even when morning had come, and both sweethearts were aching and sore, they lay tangled up under covers, refusing to let the world outside peek into their serenity.

Axis:

Germany:

Time had stopped for him. Everything did. He felt a bizarre emptiness, and knowing the cause made it worse. He's use to the laughter his S/O made when he was too serious, and started talking nonsense logic. He missed their gaze from across the room as they would attempt to sneak baked goods fresh off the cooling rack. He missed everything. But he stayed strong. He promised to himself to not let some illness take him over. He stayed his distance from more than his S/O, even to the concern of his closest friends. He was more agressive with his training, the slight burn that came with it giving him some respite from his longing. It was an endless cycle. One he was more than happy to break when the time finally came. Yet he froze at the sight. It seemed his S/O has fallen victim to the pandemics careless attitude towards haircuts and hygiene. In other words they were perfect, regardless. In fact seeing them as if they barely crawled out of bed made it seem like all the time waiting never happened. And he loved that about them. So much so he scooped them up, and carried them off to the bedroom. He wasted no time in asking them if they missed him, if they wanted him. And with each yes he made his way to hover over them. Though he wanted to just dive in and feel connected again, he made sure they could handle it. Softly gave them words of reassurance if any fears had aroused. He made a promise that whatever was happening outside the front door, would never reach them where they were. Inch by inch he layered kisses and sweet words and praise against his S/O's skin. Hands finding theirs as he leaned into them, their beings touching yet again. He had them pinned down, not wanting them to waste a single amount of effort as he gave them whatever they wanted. At the same time he gave his love in the form of attentiveness, and teasing. He was calculated in every move, every kiss and every word. He would not stop these sensations until his S/O asked, or simply couldn't take anymore of Ludwig's motions. The end had neared to quickly for them both, but neither complained. It wasn't about how long they lasted, all that mattered was they had made it through part of the storm, and they would see their way out back to beautiful clear skies, once again.

Japan:

He was use to it so it didn't bug him. So long he was able to at least talk to his S/O he was satisfied. But he could sense the tone through the phone that his partner wasn't fairing as well. That's what got to him. The discomfort his S/O had, had soon transferred to him, and even with the distance he began to miss their playfully, hidden touches and affection. He slowly realized how long he made them wait, even for just holding hands. Guilt kicked in as he he came to the conclusion that his Darling had worked so hard for him to warm to their touch, and now it was being torn from them. From him as well. That's when the feeling of missing set in fully. He would shudder at the slightest breeze that came across his skin, and imagined it was their own hand, or just their breath. But that wanting soon came to over flow as he walked back into a shared living space with his S/O. He knew his face was redden, and noticeable so he informed his S/O of his feelings. Then slowly they both found a comfortable space to allow the feeling of intimacy to take over. Small hearts were drawn on each other's skin with their fingers, and they eased in to it. Not going to fast, or to slow. For Kiku's sake since he was still unsure of what these feelings were. That is until the first embrace. Then he melted to the sensation. Those ghostly drafts from his quarantine turning into the actual breath and skin of his precious blossom. Finally the tension in his body snapped and he moved against them, pillowy lips finding theirs. He never understood why others found it hard to kiss like this. There was plenty of air shared between the two of them, but as much as he enjoyed the sensation, he began wanting more. Greedily he laid down his S/O, enjoying their longing whimpers, and pleading eyes. Even with hands unfastening the cloth barriers, he never shied away, and took in his S/O's being for what it was worth. To him that was priceless gemstones, and silk. Every bit of his lover sprawled out in front of him, as he showed his true colors like he did the first night they intermingled like this. The pace increased further as his first release built. But not yet. He showered his S/O with every sensation they deserved to have. He was going to give him twice the amount of affection and touch as they gave him from the very start. Only then would he be truly happy, and satisfied. The lull of love making came and their after glows and blush cooled down against the wooden floors. He had just enough energy left to kiss their tired bodies, and rub away any sores, a physical lullaby that let them finally get a restful night.

Italy:

He was almost depressed most of the time. He wanted so badly to hold his S/O, and just squeeze them until they gave that adorable giggle he loved so dearly. But alas, he had to wait. He had to be patient. So he used that to make paintings, and small trinkets for his beloved. And it almost worked. He could get so into his craft making he'd forget that his S/O wasn't there, and call out for their opinion. Only bringing on the sadness again he was trying to avoid. Calls were hard to make as well, and it frustrated him to no end. Then the end to the waiting had come, and he left as soon as he could, a small bag of gifts in hand. He knocked loudly, despite the morning hour, and said many things to his S/O as he embraced them. None of which came in his S/O's native tongue, or at the very least sounded like gibberish. After his S/O received so many little gifts they couldn't help but feel better. There was a small silence as Italy leaned over, pecking their lips. Unsure if they were still there, if they were real. Lingering kisses washed away to soft touches to the face, and arms. Soon clothes had been pushed aside as the two memorized the sensation of being in the same room. Then all at once they collapsed to the couch, hands fondling buttons and buckles. Hair being moved aside from ears to be nibbled, and lips struggling to find each other's rhythms. Once they did the rest came easy. Sighs were elicited as their bodies became almost glued to each other. Barely ever separating. Surprised gasps, and soft moans claimed the silence as sweat and tears mixed together, right until the end. Though neither of them disconnected from their combined warmth. Making every sore and slight bite mark worth the effort.

-End-

And holy cow the amount of times I had to change the word 'of' to 'if' and vise versa was painful! Anyway- I hope you all enjoyed this! Cause I certainly did *cough Russia my love cough* I feel slightly bad American's was slightly shorter than everyone else's, but it just felt like a good place for him. I don't know, let me know what y'all think.

NieR's Project Gestalt

So after several nights losing sleep over this, I decided to write down my biggest issue with the NieR series: project gestalt. It’s pretty unanimously agreed by fans that project gestalt was probably the worst plan in the history of plans, executed in the laziest way possible. And yet, I couldn't help but obsess over how project gestalt could have been salvaged, even after the events of ending E of nier replicant.

This is the part where I say: I’m going to spoiling the hell out of NieR: Replicant and in some capacity NieR: Automata. If you don’t want to be spoiled, then get out now — that being said, if you’re sticking around anyway, I’ll be attempting to give summaries and explanations to concepts in the games that are relevant, so that we are all on the same page. also also I only know the high level details of the Drakengard series & won't be touching on it much.

So. What the hell was project gestalt?

Project gestalt was the terrible and last ditch effort to save humanity from a widespread pandemic called white chlorination syndrome, or WCS. WCS was caused by a literal inter dimensional fight between a red dragon and demon baby thing that resulted in the death of both and the deterioration of their corpses causing salt (also called Maso particles) to fall from the sky. If you got infected, the Cult of the Watchers gave you the choice of losing your free will and fighting for them as a soldier in the Legion, or turning into a pile of salt and dying. BrandonSP has a wonderful video talking about the Legion and the Nier universe leading up to the events of Nier: Replicant that I’ll link if you want to know more about this history (here), but all you need to know is: humanity is on the brink of extinction and the planet is no longer inhabitable in its current state.

Project Gestalt discovered that the way humans could escape extinction is by separating their souls from their bodies — the soul having no physical form is immortal & immune to maso, while the body without a soul can't become infected, because there’s no consciousness to force into a demon deal, I guess. You know, I realized while writing this that it’s not clear why separating soul from body actually worked to prevent WCS, but whatever it worked because Yoko Taro Said So.

However, separating body from soul was no easy task; upon doing so, most people’s souls would instantly go berserk, turning into mindless violent entities. The first success was the playable character of Nier: Replicant, who I’m going to call Nier. Upon this first success, the governments of the world convinced / coerced him into cooperating with the Project, and he became the cornerstone for all the “gestalts” aka the souls separated from their bodies.

Just to keep everyone up to pace, gestalts are the souls separated from their bodies, otherwise known as “shades” in Nier: Replicant.

So Project Gestalt’s planned chain of events was as followed:

1. All remaining humans would undergo gestalt-ing 2. The resulting replicants (aka, the soulless bodies) and androids would fight and defeat the legion & clean up the planet so that it was habitable again … which meant containing or eradicating the leftover maso covering the planet. 3. Once ready for rehabilitation, Grimoire Weiss and Grimoire Nior would merge into each other, causing all gestalt souls to snap into their respective replicants starting with Nier 4. Profit. Seems a simple plan, right? Well, not even a single step of that plan worked. By the end of Nier: Replicant ending E, Nier’s Gestalt, aka the shadow lord, has been killed by his own replicant; the replicants have gained sentience and I would argue their own souls, and many gestalts have relapsed into becoming violent, nonsensical entities. The insta-snap grimoires are dead, too, and-- Oh there’s the tiny issue that when a gestalt relapses, their corresponding replicant gets something called the “black scrawl”, a painful and terminal disease. Once a gestalt relapses or dies, their replicant can’t be recreated (well... mostly) and because the original gestalt, the shadow lord, is dead, all the other gestalts are doomed to eventually relapse or die as well, and thus humanity goes extinct. This is where I call bullshit. There’s little known about the time period between Nier: Replicant and Nier: Automata— especially the time of the gestalt and replicants decline. The game(s) leads you to believe that nothing can be done because the soul snapping Grimoires are dead and so is the original gestalt. However, there is tons of evidence in the game itself that implies it’s not so simple, and truly the true tragedy is that simply, everyone gave up — or more likely, Yoko Taro didn’t want us to think this hard, lol. Well TOO BAD, I can’t stop thinking about it so finally let’s actually talk about how to save humanity. First of all, I read on Reddit how it seems to be that the androids Devola and Popula are only two units, and with their demise in Nier: Replicant that project gestalt is doomed to failure. However, Nier: Automata clearly talks about how there were several Devola and Popula model pairs in different cities/continents. There’s no way that only our Devola and Popula in Nier: Replicant knew how to merge a gestalt with its replicant; such vital information would be stored in every android related to the project, and these models were quite literally created to oversee it. So. Idk why the hell the project was allowed to even get so disorganized, but regardless, after the the Shadow Lord and grimoires die, the remaining Devola and Popula units should have immediately made a plan B. There were several big issues with the state of the world before, so we’ll tackle them one by one for the biggest chance of success. 1. All relapsed gestalts need to be eradicated or contained. Their violence has lead replicants to attack them back and view them as monsters, leading to meaningless conflict. If the Devola and Popula units are programmed not to harm the gestalts because they are the 'true humans', they need to make new units ala A2 or 2B to take care of it. Because we know that android technology is already there, evidenced by the Memory Tree, and Devola and Popula, it follows this is definitely possible.

2. There should be three divisions of research made as follows:

2.1 Research into the effects of mismatched replicants merged with gestalts, like Kaine. Because the clock is ticking, there’s unfortunately no time to gawk at morals. Taking volunteers, even 1 success could be the difference between extinction or survival.

2.2 Creating and housing “iced” or “stasis” gestalts, while replicant bodies are “grown” for them. Because replicants have formed their own identities, they should try to create/raise replicants completely asleep/comatose. If not this, research into putting gestalts into their proper replicants at infant stage can be tried. (Note: replicants were infertile, hence why replicants had to be made, not born of sexual reproduction. Yoko Taro said that replicants couldn’t reproduce because they didn’t have their souls, however I think this was just a comment said to cover a plot hole.)

2.3 Research into whether replicants truly have souls or not, and whether something can be done to allow them to reproduce. Regarding the soul issue, it’s heavily implied that the Memory Tree, having absorbed the memories of so many replicants, began growing a soul of its own (that Nier killed, thinking it was a shade, oops). Now, how is that possible? It shouldn’t be, unless the replicants had made their own or unless a soul being created was possible. If we want to get fancy, a fourth division could be organized to study Emil and the weapons project that experimented on him, with an emphasis on how to either reverse the effects or if any information can be gleaned from them regarding the soul.

2.4 Black scrawl 2 electric boogaloo: it’s said in the project gestalt files that they couldn’t find a cure or reason for this phenomenon, but if we’re trying to cover our bases, another research division should be created to investigate and attempt to cure it. It seems to be a magical malady, so I wonder if Emil would be able to help... or even Kaine.

3. (Moving along...) More androids should be created to build cities / homes / areas of civilization for the newly reformed humans to re-habitat. This is said to be a goal of the androids in Nier: Automata, and they were doing a piss poor job — maybe if they got started earlier they’d have a better shot. The replicants were/are already living in medieval levels of squalor and poverty, which is ridiculous considering the android's technology is so advanced.

4. No more lies: though in my plan, replicants shouldn’t have to be created except to be possessed, but if they are created and allowed to mature into a sentient age, replicants should be educated and informed about the truth of their existence — this is for many reasons. First, that way replicants will be less likely to fear and attack shades they see; two, worst comes to worst, they may be more willing to share their bodies with their gestalts and who knows? Maybe they’d merge naturally. Three, no replicant would be allowed to get strong enough to defeat an android (or two -- seriously, what were the twins thinking letting Nier get so powerful?).

Hopefully this makes it very obvious that the death of humanity was entirely the fault of Project Gestalt itself and the androids meant to oversee it -- at least the androids have the excuse of being programmed to act a certain way, but still. It's so frustrating that we just have to accept that humanity was doomed even though, by its own lore, there was a lot that could have been done to attempt to save humans. Like, I love you, Yoko Taro, but gees.

anyway if you've read all this I'm so sorry but also I'm REALLY interested to hear what y'all think about the Nier universe and it's facets. idek why I've got such deep brainworms but here we are.

P.S. As of writing this, I've played some Nier: Reincarnation and it just further implies that the way they created and treated replicants was both A) awful, holy shit, it's so bad, and B) ill-advised on every level. I don't want to spoil but good lord. Honestly, I think at this point YT just wants to express/nail home that humanity was doomed to fail because of its own cruelty and flaws. ok ill shut up now bye love u

Title: Duel Gone Wrong (Chapter 17) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Dark Sun Gwyndolin Word Count: 1.433 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14026326/chapters/35314644 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/175476915709/title-duel-gone-wrong-chapter-16-fandom-dark

Summary: In which Gwyndolin is visited.

This night Ornstein had managed to sleep quite well. After his talk with Artorias yesterday the tenseness had vanished and he felt a lot better, even his stomach ache had managed to vanish over night. He pushed himself up and grabbed the hairband that usually laid on his night stand, only to be reminded by the state of his broken arm that he wasn't able to tie his hair together by himself. Grumbling a bit, he put the hairband down and grabbed for the sling to sustain his arm instead.

After Ornstein got up and had dressed himself, he noticed the cookie plate on the table and the box he had the leftover cookies put in. He didn't feel like eating them for breakfast and it were far too much to eat on his own before they would get stale. He grabbed the cookie box and filled it with some of the cookies on the plate. With the box under his left arm and his spear in the left hand, Ornstein left his room to visit Gwyndolin and ask them once again for help with his hair.

Ornstein had some trouble knocking on Gwyndolin's door with his left arm occupied but he managed to get it done with a few kicks instead. The door was promptly opened by the dark sun. “Ornstein, come in.”, they said as if they had expected him.

“Sorry to bother you this early.”, Ornstein sad and stepped into their room. “I need help with my hair but I am sure you already knew that.”, he added and leaned his spear on the wall. “Also, do you want some cookies? Artorias has given me far too many.” He placed the box with the cookies on Gwyndolin's table.

“I would love them.”, Gwyndolin said and came over to look at them. They picked one up and asked: “How do you want your hair today, Ornstein?”

“Just in a ponytail, please.”, Ornstein said with a slightly frozen tone in his voice.

“Aw, didn't you like my braids?”, Gwyndolin asked, taking a bite from the cookie.

“Were you really under the impression my hair is needing more curls?”, Ornstein said. Technically he shouldn't scold them like this cause Gwyndolin was one of his superiors but they were still younger than him and had far too much fun to play around with his hair for his taste.

“No, I was under the impression that it needed to be more fancy.”, Gwyndolin grinned at him. “These cookies are good. Artorias is getting better every time.” They pointed to a chair and Ornstein walked over to sit down in it. “Let me finish that cookie real quick, I will get your hair done then.”, they said.

“Thanks, Gwyndolin.”, Ornstein said and let his eyes wander around the room. As he noticed some bottles with mysterious colourful liquids on a shelf, he remembered that the master had told him, that Gwyndolin had started to make their own medicine now. “Gwyndolin.”, he started. “Oh, please no...”, he said next when he saw Gwyndolin approaching with a brush.

“It has to be done.”, Gwyndolin said and started to brush Ornstein's hair, a treatment he hated. He often would have a brush in hand in the morning, trying to comb his hair and quickly give up and just tie it into a ponytail. He hissed a bit at the twinges he felt from the brushing. Although he had to admit, Gwyndolin knew what they were doing and it didn't hurt as much as expected.

“Your hair is still easier to comb as that of my brother.”, Gwyndolin said. “This mane is insane. Have you seen him with his hair wet? It was such a sight, it made me laugh so much.”

“No, I have never seen the master with wet hair. You are having your own bathrooms, remember?”, Ornstein said. He would so love to see the master in his naked glory, but he was also pretty sure that his crush on him couldn't be denied then anymore. Thinking about this, Ornstein hadn't bathed the last few days. He made a mental note to use the public bathroom this evening to at least clean his skin up. His hair could wait a little longer.

While Gwyndolin was busy brushing out a particular intractable hair knot, they asked: “Do you still have my tea service that I borrowed to you? I noticed that I am missing a few cups and a tea can.”

“Ow...”, Ornstein whispered at the brushing and then answered: “Um, yes, I still have it. I know the master said I should get my own, but...” He sighed.

“What happened?”, Gwyndolin wanted to know while finishing untangling the hair knot.

“I was about to buy one and got to the store.”, Ornstein explained. “But at that time I wasn't used to my newfound size and knocked a lot of things over... I had enough money with me to pay for everything I broke, but I was so embarrassed that I couldn't set another foot in that store anymore...” Ornstein had to cringe only thinking about this.

“Oh well, you can keep it a bit longer then...” Gwyndolin finished the brushing and started to tie his hair together. “I think you wanted to ask me something earlier, right?”, they said.

“Right. The master told me, you started to make your own medicine?”, Ornstein asked.

“Yes, that is true.” They used a few skilled hand grips and had the ponytail done, but didn't seem to be satisfied cause they kept working on it. “Why are you asking? Are you in pain?”

Ornstein shook his head. “It isn't that bad. I am just interested. You are still young and already make your own medicine? That is amazing.”

“Yes, I have started to try it out. You know that I easily get sick, right?”, they said. Ornstein nodded and they wiggled over to the shelf. “These are the prototypes I have so far. Although, they still have some side effects...”

“Which kind of side effects?”, Ornstein asked.

“Well... this one is supposed to help against pain but you have to vomit for three consecutive hours after taking it. This one is supposed to help you with a stuffed nose but it gives you an intense nosebleed so that the subjects had to go to the infirmary. And this one was supposed to ease headaches, but it let the subjects faint and they wouldn't wake up for twelve hours.”, Gwyndolin explained in such a casual tone if that was normal.

Ornstein had heard enough. “Gwyndolin, who in the world were the subjects you tested this things on?”

“Oh, I was asking the silver knights. I was expecting side effects but they were a bit worse than I thought.”

That explained the time were there was a sudden wave of sicknesses with the silver knights. Ornstein had already feared some kind of pandemic but they luckily had all been back the next day.

“You can't just take out my silver knights like you please.”, he scolded them, making the little dark sun squirm.

“I am sorry. But who should I have asked instead? I can't exactly go out like I please.”, they said.

“I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I should be the one who should be sorry. You are still my superior after all.”, Ornstein said, putting a hand on his forehead.

“Would it be fine if I ask you first the next time I want to test a medicine?”, Gwyndolin asked.

“What, so that I can send you my most useless silver knights?”, Ornstein joked, but that actually gave him an idea. “It would be a good punishment method for the ones who are slacking off...”

“Thank you very much, Ornstein, that will help my research out.”, Gwyndolin said. “I am sure you have to attend to your duties now? Don't forget your cookies.” They pointed to the tin box on the table.

“Feel tree to take some more.”, Ornstein said and picked up the box after Gwyndolin had helped themselves. “I surely will be back tomorrow. Thanks for helping me out.” He raised a hand to feel out his hair and was satisfied when he noticed a regular ponytail.

Gwyndolin watched Ornstein turning around and open the door. He hadn't notice that they had knotted a large pink bow into his ponytail. “That is for not liking my braid.”, they snickered. (Author’s note:  If you think that Gwyndolin is acting immature, that is because they are only 13 years old in this story.) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/175954250984/title-duel-gone-wrong-chapter-18-fandom-dark

Fear the Walking Dead Season 6 Episode 7 Review: Damage From the Inside

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This Fear the Walking Dead review contains spoilers. 

Fear the Walking Dead Season 6 Episode 7

The last time I struggled to write a review for Fear the Walking Dead was the season 4 finale, “…I Lose Myself.” I wrote at the time, “Several false starts and a couple thousand words later, I realized I wasn’t writing a review for a lackluster episode. Rather, I was writing a eulogy for a show I once loved.”

Unfortunately, history seems to be repeating itself. And this is a difficult thing to admit, since season 6 showed so much promise. If this season could be described as a single color, it would be greige, the nearly nonexistent color that exists between beige and grey. Greige is the color of long-in-the-tooth zombies. It is the color of leftover oatmeal. Greige is, in a word, the very color of boredom itself. Season 6 hasn’t been all bad, of course. After all, I gave very high marks to “Alaska.” But if that episode represents a high point for the season, “Damage From the Inside” is most certainly its nadir. Plans go awry, again. Tables are turned, again. Characters do baffling things, again. And Morgan turns up to stir the plot yet again. 

I realize it seems a bit unfair to judge “Damage” as a mid-season finale. Certainly showrunners Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg never intended it as such, but because of happenstance (re: the pandemic), this is the last episode of Fear AMC has in the pipeline. So I’m willing to cut “Damage” a bit of slack in that regard. Still, the episode simply doesn’t work on its own merits.

Honestly, I don’t know what to say about Fear at this point as it’s difficult to witness so much squandered potential yet again. Remember season 4’s strong start? New characters were brought into the mix, like John Dorie and Al. Morgan, too, was brought over from The Walking Dead to kick off what was meant to be a fresh start for Fear. And for a while, this gamble to overhaul the show initially paid off, only to eventually go off the rails with weak antagonists like the Vultures, and later, Martha. By the end of season 4, “Fear 2.0” was slowly sabotaged from the inside. So maybe it’s fitting that the death knell for this current iteration of Fear is titled “Damage From the Inside.”

At this point I think it’s safe to assume that Ginny’s sister Dakota (Zoe Colletti) is responsible for much of Lawton’s current woes. As we learn in “Damage,” Ginny (Colby Minifie) killed their parents, which seems like pretty sufficient motivation for Dakota to undermine her sister’s accomplishments. She even hints as much to Strand (Colman Domingo) during his mission to escort her to a safe house. She also conveniently summarizes Ginny’s recent setbacks: Tank Town, gone. Ginny’s hand, gone. Two scouts, dead. And Ranger John Dorie? Still missing. In other words, it’s the perfect time to put Strand’s escape plan into effect. That is, until the convoy is ambushed and Dakota is kidnapped.

Enter Alicia (Alycia Debnam-Carey) who is summoned by Strand to track down Dakota. As much as I enjoy Debnam-Carey being back in the mix, “Damage” doesn’t really know what to do with her. The only agency this once-powerful character possesses is the ability to hold a grudge—and that’s about it. Once a formidable zombie killer, Alicia can barely hold her ground against a reclusive taxidermist.

In tracking down Dakota, Alicia and Charlie (Alexa Nisenson) discover a remote hunting lodge tucked away in the woods. There they encounter Ed (Raphael Sbarge), a creepy, off-kilter taxidermist. Which, fine. Creepy can be good, right? Especially since Alicia’s initial exploration of the lodge reminded me a lot of earlier entries in Capcom’s Resident Evil videogame series. The lighting is sufficiently eerie and the distant strains of classical music contribute to the mounting mystery and dread. “Damage” doubles down on the Resident Evil vibes by revealing that Ed is turning the dead into disturbing works of art to scare off would-be intruders. Which, again, fine.

But what rankles me about “Damage” is that it cedes the stage to Ed. Rather than bring something new to the table, Ed airs the sorts of grievances and revelations that no longer hold any shock value in this world—for its characters, or for viewers. Ed’s mistakes killed his family? Fear has already been there, done that. Plus the whole case of mistaken intent/identity didn’t do “Honey” any favors, either, so why would it work here when Ed drugs Alicia and straps her to a table?

Ed’s familiar backstory is a big part of why this episode simply doesn’t work. He exists purely to help Alicia understand some basic things about herself. His life, his missteps, they mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. Which is why his grand sacrifice is more of an empty gesture robbed of any profundity. That Alicia would be so rattled by his death just doesn’t play. (Plus what was left of him to bury after being ripped apart by zombies? A femur?)

Which finally brings us to Morgan, who shows up just in time to save the day. But any kind of happy reunion is quickly undone when we learn it was Morgan who ambushed Strand’s convoy and killed the rangers. Why? So he could capture Dakota and use her as leverage to rescue Grace. This was basically Alicia’s plan, too—to hand over Dakota to buy her and Charlie their freedom. 

Which, again, fine. Everyone has their own agenda. But how many conflicting plans does a single season really need? I’m all for conflict, but who thought it would be fun or effective to see Morgan repeatedly butt heads as he tries to push through his own plan—his own version of the “Queen’s Gambit”, if you will? This popular gambit requires sacrificing a pawn, but Alicia has suddenly decided Dakota is more than a mere pawn, thank you very much.

But the queen has an important pawn of her own—namely Grace (Karen David), who she’s kept in a secret room in Lawton. Why Ginny would trust Strand with this vital bit of information is truly baffling, especially since her kingdom is crumbling around her. 

Viewers will have plenty of time to contemplate these questionable choices, especially now that Fear enters an extended hiatus. Perhaps the intended mid-season finale will eventually reveal Dakota as the saboteur. Maybe Lawton will fall. And maybe, just maybe, Grace will go into labor, providing a bookend birth to the one that kicked off the season.

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In the meantime, while we wait for Fear‘s return, stay safe, and stay tuned.

The post Fear the Walking Dead Season 6 Episode 7 Review: Damage From the Inside appeared first on Den of Geek.

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6 unemployment tax Q&A for COVID-tinged Labor Day 2020

It's Labor Day weekend. This holiday usually is time for end-of-summer revelry, with a little leftover celebration of the workers whose efforts are recognized on the first Monday of each September.

This year's a bit different. Social distancing during the coronavirus pandemic have, for the most part, limited the usual three-day weekend parties.

As for the workers, COVID-19 also means more attention is paid this year on those who aren't laboring because they lost their jobs.

COVID-19 response work ramifications:Health decisions by states, several of which reacted to the novel coronavirus earlier than Uncle Sam, led to widespread business closures as a way to slow infections.

That led to layoffs. Lots and lots of layoffs.

Some workers were rehired once the pandemic conditions in their areas improved somewhat.

However, millions of Americans have at some point this year relied on unemployment benefits. That includes for the first time ever some self-employed workers, who qualified for the government assistance under a provision in the Coronavirus Aid, Relief and Economic Security (CARES) Act.

Improving work outlook, but not for all: The Department of Labor's (DoL) pre-Labor Day data provided a tiny bit of good news for the country's overall workforce.

For the week ending Aug. 29, DoL reports seasonally adjusted initial claims for unemployment benefits were 881,000. That was a decrease of 130,000 from the previous week's out-of-work tally.

The seasonally adjusted unemployment rate also dropped a tad, according to the DoL. The 9.1 percent jobless rate for the week ending Aug. 22 was a decrease of 0.8 percentage point from the previous week's rate.

But the improved, albeit slightly, unemployment figures are of little consolation if you're out of a job. And millions are or have been out of work during 2020.

Millions out of work at some point this year: The Sept. 3 DoL announcement of weekly unemployment numbers also noted that more than 29 million people have claimed some sort of unemployment benefits this year.

The financial help has come as regular state-administered program payments or from special pandemic unemployment assistance.

The government's precise figure for all types of unemployment benefit claims for the week ending Aug. 15 was 29,224,546. For comparison purposes, DoL notes that in the comparable week in 2019 unemployment claims totaled 1,639,622.

The 29.2 million unemployment claims amount is this weekend's By the Numbers figure.

Taxable unemployment money: The unemployment data also serves as a reminder for those who got any of the financial assistance this year that the Internal Revenue Service expects you to pay tax on your unemployment benefits.

The recipients of the financial help need to take this tax liability into account now since the next estimated tax payment deadline is Sept. 15.

To clarify the issue of taxes and unemployment insurance, the IRS answers five questions in IRS Publication 5444. They are listed below, along with a sixth question and answer about state taxes on unemployment.

Q1. Do I have to report unemployment benefits on my federal income tax return?  A1: Yes, any unemployment compensation received during the year must be reported on your federal tax return.

Q2. How will I know how much unemployment compensation I received?  A2: If you received unemployment compensation during the year, you should receive Form 1099-G from your state’s unemployment office.

Q3. How will unemployment compensation affect my tax return?  A3: If you do not have taxes withheld from your unemployment compensation, it could result in a tax liability.

Q4. Can I have federal income tax withheld from my unemployment compensation?  A4. Yes, you can choose to have federal income tax withheld from your unemployment benefits by submitting a Form W-4V, Voluntary Withholding Request, to your state’s unemployment office.

Q5. If I am no longer collecting unemployment benefits, how can I pay the tax due?  A5. You can make estimated tax payments at www.irs.gov/Form 1040-ES and/or increase your withholding once you have a new job. You can check your estimated withholding using the calculator at www.irs.gov/W4app. See www.irs.gov/payments for more payment options.

Q6. Will I also owe tax to my state on my unemployment benefits?  A6. Most states that have a personal income tax also follow the federal government when it comes to taxation of unemployment benefits. That means that in most cases, the benefits are fully taxable.

However, a handful exempt unemployment from taxation. And a couple of states tax only a part of the benefits. Here's the breakdown on the non- or less-taxing situations:

— Six states exempt unemployment benefits from income taxes. They are Alabama, California, Montana, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Virginia.

— Indiana and Wisconsin may tax only a portion of your unemployment benefits.

— New Hampshire and Tennessee only tax individuals' investment income so unemployment benefits are off the hook here.

— Seven states don't have any personal income tax, hence no tax on unemployment money. They are Alaska, Florida, Nevada, South Dakota, Texas, Washington and Wyoming.

Unemployment moves to make now: If you do or did get unemployment this year, two things to remember.

First, even though you'll get Form 1099-G, keep good records of your benefit payments.

Second, pay at least some estimated tax. That will let the IRS know you understand that your unemployment benefits are taxable and that you're trying to fulfill your tax obligation.

Also, any estimated tax amounts now will reduce the amount of tax you'll owe when you do file your return next spring, as well as limit the penalty you could face for not paying estimated taxes on time. 

You also might find these items of interest:

Self-employed left out of Trump payroll tax cut…for now

Tax help for those who lost healthcare along with their jobs

Estimated tax payment deadlines have changed, but you still have calculation options

  Coronavirus Caveat & More Information In 2020, we're all dealing with extraordinary circumstances, both in our daily lives and when it comes to our taxes. The COVID-19 pandemic and efforts to reduce its transmission and protect ourselves and our families means that, for the most part, we're focusing on just getting through these trying days. But life as we knew it before the coronavirus will return, along with our mundane tax matters. Here's hoping that happens soon! In the meantime, you can find more on the virus and its effects on our taxes by clicking Coronavirus (COVID-19) and Taxes.

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