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joelsgreys · 8 months

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Talk Tonight l Part 1 (Joel Miller x OC Female Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary: After their flight home is canceled, two complete strangers decide to spend the entire night getting lost together in one of the most beautiful cities in the world—what could go wrong?

Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x OFC Camila Mendoza

Chapter Warnings/Tags: preface angst (I sorry), we have our girl Sarah, Tommy is a pain in the ass but we love him, airport meet cute, Camila has a physical description, talk of her career and profession, I think that’s about it.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Well, here she is. My lil passion project. It has been kind of nice to write something with zero expectations, not going to lie. No pressure, just straight vibing with this one. This chapter is quite tame, not a whole lot of action yet, but it obviously sets the story up for the good stuff. Tbh, the next chapter is my FAVORITE of the whole series and I almost wish I could skip this part and post that one because when I tell you it is cute, it is so fucking cute lmao. But anyway. I know this series might not gain a ton of traction, but I hope that the few people who DO read this enjoy my OC and grow to love her as much as I have and that you love this story as well. Also I just want to shoutout Doni @morning-star-joy for being so lovely to me and supporting my idea and letting me scream about Camila to her. 🩷

Charles De Gaulle Airport

Paris, France

September 26th, 2002

07:00 Hours

“I beg your pardon?”

Startled by the sound of that rich, deep voice, that heavy Southern drawl that had become so familiar to you over the last nine hours, you lifted your face from your hands and whipped around in your seat; you’d turned so fast that you almost gave yourself whiplash. Your lips parted slightly in surprise when you saw Joel Miller standing there in the aisle with his plane ticket clutched in his hand.

He looked at you, then his dark eyes flickered over to the man sitting next to you. “Sorry I don’t mean to be a bother, but would you mind swappin’ seats with me?” He asked, politely. “I’ve got a good seat up in business class. It’s all yours if you’re willin’ to switch with me.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

Joel shook his head. “There ain’t no catch, sir.”

“There has to be a catch,” he said, suspiciously.

“Ain’t no catch at all. It’s all yours, no extra charge, sir,” he told him, earnestly. “It’s more comfortable; there’s plenty of legroom. There’s also free food, a better selection of movies to watch. Oh and all the complimentary drinks that you can toss back from here to Austin,” Joel added, practically shoving his ticket right under the man’s nose. He hoped it had been enough to tempt him into agreeing to switch with him. “So? What do you say? Can we swap?”

“Well, I say you had me at complimentary drinks,” he remarked with a grin. He stood up, grabbed his carry on bag from the overhead compartment and took the ticket from Joel’s hand. Eagerly, he made his way up the aisle towards the front of the plane.

Dumbfounded, you couldn’t help but stare at Joel, your eyes widening as he slid himself into the seat beside you. “Hi baby,” he greeted you, his lips, soft and warm, brushing against your temple.

“Joel?” You sniffed, quickly dabbing at your damp, swollen eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I’m confused. What in the world are you doing here? Is this even allowed?”

“It’s fine, Mila. I asked one of the flight attendants, she said it was okay so long as he agreed to it.” He put on his seatbelt and glanced over, noticing that your own seatbelt remained unfastened. Reaching over, Joel grabbed the two straps and pulled them around your hips, buckling it for you. He then gave it a firm tug to make sure it was secure. He felt the way you were looking at him and murmured, “Just wanna make sure you’re safe, baby. That’s all.”

“Joel,” You whispered his name thickly. “Seriously, what are you doing back here?”

Joel’s eyes met yours. “If I can get just a few more hours with you, I’m gonna take them. Camila, I will take every last second I can get with you, alright?”

“But—”

You stopped, clamping your mouth shut as a fresh batch of hot tears threatened to spill over.

“C’mere.” He cupped your cheek with his opposite hand and delicately tucked your face into the spot between his neck and his collarbone, soothing you softly, “I’m here, baby. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

You clutched fistfuls of his denim jacket and clung to him desperately—it was almost as if you’d been clinging onto dear life itself.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Joel promised. “We’re gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’re gonna be okay.”

But that couldn’t have been father from the truth.

You and Joel weren’t going to be okay.

You knew that.

And he did too.

Charles De Gaulle Airport

Paris, France

September 25th, 2002

21:00 Hours

“You’re still in Paris?” Sarah shrieked loudly.

Wincing, Joel pulled his Nokia away from his ear.

She had nearly blown his goddamn eardrum out.

“Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke?”

He sighed heavily, tiredly rubbing at the side of his face with his opposite hand.

He should have known, expected even, that Sarah wouldn’t take the news of his current predicament all too well—she wouldn’t take it well at all.

Joel brought his phone back to his ear. “Sorry, but unfortunately this ain’t a joke, babygirl,” he replied to her after a minute, letting out another sigh. Joel glanced across the crowded airport lounge and he squinted over at the big digital sign hanging above the airline’s counter displaying all the details of his flight home to Austin, Texas. Even after about four hours, it still flashed red, signaling to everyone the flight was still very much delayed due to the harsh weather conditions on the route. Like Joel, several other passengers were growing restless. “We were supposed to take off a few hours ago, but there’s a pretty bad storm on the East Coast—”

Sarah cut him off with a dramatic groan.

“Oh, come on man! Are you fucking serious?”

“Hey now, you had best watch your language!” He chastised his teenaged daughter. “Don’t you think for one second that I ain’t gonna ground your little behind from halfway across the world, missy. I will ground you right from this airport.” He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ, I leave you alone with Uncle Tommy for one weekend—”

“Tell me you’ll be home by tomorrow night, dad.”

He could hear the disappointment in her tone.

As if she already knew she would be let down.

Joel couldn’t blame her.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be home,” he admitted. “It’s lookin’ like the flight might get even canceled.”

“But tomorrow’s your birthday!” Sarah cried. “You have to be home for your birthday.” There’s a long, silent pause on her end of the line, but just as Joel was about to ask her if she was still there, she said in a sad, devastated voice, “It was supposed to be a surprise, but Nana and Grandpa are coming into town tomorrow. We planned a big birthday dinner, even ordered a special cake and everything. You’re always working on your birthday, we haven’t had a chance to properly celebrate it together in years.”

Joel’s heart sank, the guilt creeping in. “Sarah, I’m sorry, babygirl—”

“You just can’t be stuck in Paris, dad. You can’t—”

Suddenly, he heard Tommy in the background.

“Wait a damn minute, what did you just say? He’s stuck where, now? You’ve gotta be—here, give me the phone, kiddo.” There’s another long pause and then his younger brother’s voice came on the line. “What the hell do you mean you’re stuck in Paris?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Joel replied, flatly.

“You better be fuckin’ talkin’ about Paris, Texas.”

“Christ, Tommy! Watch your fuckin’ mouth around my daughter,” he hissed, knowing damn good and well that Sarah was standing beside him, listening to him. “I’m stranded at the goddamn airport here in France. I’ve been sittin’ on my ass for hours now just waitin’ around. My flight’s delayed due to that big storm over on the East Coast,” he explained. “I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here since they grounded all air traffic to the States. Nothin’s flyin’ out in that direction right now.”

“Oh c’mon, that can’t be true! Somethin’s gotta be flyin’ out of that airport to the United States. Have you tried switchin’ airlines?”

Annoyed, Joel snorted and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Tommy, that ain’t how it fuckin’ works, you moron. Nothin’ is flyin’ out in that direction right now,” his voice was firm as he repeated himself. “That really so goddamn fuckin’ hard to understand?”

“Those Europeans put somethin’ in your water?”

“The hell you fuckin’ talkin’ about?”

“‘Cause your ass is crankier than usual, brother.”

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his composure.

Even in his late twenties, Tommy refused to grow the fuck up and it often drove him to his wits end.

“Look, this long distance call is costin’ me a damn fortune, so listen and listen good, ‘cause I ain’t got a whole lot of time left,” Joel snapped. “I need you to do me a real big favor, alright?” Without waiting for a response from his brother, he continued, “It’s Sunday, so I need you to make sure that Sarah got all of her homework done this weekend. But check it for yourself—and don’t let her lie to you, Tommy. She’ll swear to you she did it, even if she didn’t. I’ll also need you to take her to school tomorrow. She can’t be late again. Her homeroom teacher already chewed me out for droppin’ her off after first bell. I need you to get her there before eight o’ clock. Do you think you can handle that for me?”

Tommy clicked his tongue. “Sorry I wasn’t listenin’ to you, what did you just say?”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “Tommy, I swear to Christ—”

He laughed. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, Joel. I got it all handled, okay? Uncle Tommy to the rescue.”

“Uncle Tommy’s a fuckin’ idiot,” Joel mumbled. “It ain’t a joke. Can I trust you to do this for me or do I need to call Mrs Adler and ask her for her help?”

“I’m a little offended,” Tommy scoffed out. “I think I’ve been takin’ real good care of Sarah on my own over these last few days since you’ve been gone. I mean, she’s alive and she’s breathin’ ain’t she?”

“Tommy—”

“Relax, Joel. I’ll check out her homework tonight, I promise. And I’ll get her to school tomorrow, make sure she ain’t late. You can trust me. Alright?”

“Not like I’ve got much of a choice,” he muttered.

“That’s the spirit.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “I’ve gotta go. Tell Sarah I love her and I’ll do my best to make it home on time for that not so surprise special birthday dinner Mama and Pop are comin’ into town for tomorrow night.”

“You got it, big brother.”

Joel ended the call and then shoved his Nokia into the pocket of his faded, black denim jacket.

He had to get back home by tomorrow night.

If he didn’t, Sarah would be absolutely crushed.

He’d spent his last three birthdays working double shifts just to help make ends meet—but ever since he finally got his construction business going with Tommy, the hours had been even more brutal now that it was just the two of them doing big jobs. He swore both to himself and to Sarah he would try to take more time off—for birthdays, holidays, soccer tournaments, dance recitals. To spend more of his time with her.

So far, he hadn’t been able to keep his word.

He felt like a jackass for it, but what could he do?

It wasn’t just about paying the bills anymore.

Sarah would be turning fourteen next year.

In a few years, he’d be putting her through college.

He needed to work to secure her future for her.

Joel sank back into his chair, taking a look around; his dark eyes scanned the lounge with disinterest.

That’s when you caught his attention.

Caught it and held onto it with a vice like grip.

Joel’s throat went dry.

Christ, you were so fucking beautiful.

Dark brown curls, soft skin the color of deep sand.

Your white sundress only accentuated the warmth of your smooth complexion, giving you a glow that was so radiant it knocked the wind from his lungs, making it hard for him to catch an even breath.

You were sitting in the row of chairs opposite his, a couple chairs down. He couldn’t be too sure, but it seemed like you were traveling alone—the chair on your left was empty and the one on your right held your tan leather satchel bag. Your nose was buried deep into a worn out, paperback book and he took notice of the way you would take the ballpoint pen that you had tucked behind your ear, using it to jot down notes on the crinkled, yellowing pages every so often. Then you would put the pen back behind your ear with a the tiniest, satisfied little grin.

Joel swallowed, his throat bobbing harshly.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You must have felt his stare because you suddenly looked up from your book, meeting his gaze. You’d seemed a bit startled at first, but then flashed him a pleasant, friendly smile.

Embarrassed, Joel quickly turned away from you.

Way to go you fuckin’ idiot, he thought to himself, silently. She probably thinks you’re a damn creep.

He feigned a sudden interest in the airplane that is parked right outside the gate, the very same plane he was supposed to have boarded four hours ago.

“Êtes-vous coincé ici aussi?”

The sweet, feminine voice came from beside him.

Startled, Joel looked to see you’d moved, and now occupied the once empty seat next to him.

“Uh, sorry. I don’t speak French,” he sputtered out nervously.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” You said, making the effortless transition from French to English. “I just assumed, but I shouldn’t have.” Tossing him a soft and apologetic smile, you asked, “So then, you are an American too?” Of course, there was no reason to ask such a question when the answer was quite obvious, but you were trying to get a conversation with him going.

“Yeah.” Joel winced, mentally kicking himself over how curt he’d sounded. “I’m from Texas.”

Your hazel green eyes glimmered with amusement and you flashed him a brilliant smile that made his heart skip a beat or two inside his chest.

“I thought I detected a hint of a Southern drawl.”

“Oh trust me, it ain’t just a hint, darlin’.”

You threw your head back slightly, laughing. “Well, hello there cowboy,” You teased him, playfully. You were even more stunning up close and all he could do was hope that you couldn’t tell how nervous he was underneath the surface—eager to be chatting up a stunning woman like you, but still nervous.

“So what did you ask me just a minute ago?”

“I asked if you’ve been stuck here like me.”

Joel grinned, feeling a little more courageous.

“Ain’t it obvious what flight I’m waitin’ on, angel?”

“Oh very much so, cowboy.” Grinning back at him, you leaned back into your chair and made yourself comfortable. “I’m waiting on that same flight too.”

Joel chuckled. “At this rate we’d get to Austin a lot faster by swimmin’ across the Atlantic.”

“It’s too bad I don’t know how to swim. Otherwise, I’d say let’s get paddling,” You kidded, causing him to laugh again. “How long were you here in Paris?”

“Few days,” he answered. “Buddy of mine married his longtime girlfriend here. I was his best man.”

You wrinkled your nose at him. “Really?”

Amused, he asked, “Somethin’ wrong with that?”

“I mean, getting married in the most romantic city in the entire world? Don’t you think that’s just a bit cliché?”

Joel shrugged. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. “Come to think of it, can’t get more cliché than that. But I couldn’t say no to Wyatt. He’s been my best friend since we were in diapers,” he explained. “He asked me to be his best man. I couldn’t say no to him, no matter how fuckin’ cliché the whole thing was—”

He suddenly stopped, face burning.

“Sorry darlin’,” he apologized, sheepishly. “I should mind my manners. It ain’t polite to curse when I’m in the presence of a lovely lady.”

Your laugh sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

Waving a hand, you assured him, “It’s totally fine. I don’t it mind at all.”

Joel smiled, angling his body towards you.

His nerves hadn’t disappeared, not completely.

But as the seconds ticked by, he felt more at ease.

Talking to you felt as natural as breathing.

Joel decided to turn the tables. “What about you? How long were you here for?”

“Oh, I wasn’t. I’m actually just here on a layover.”

“From where?”

“Somalia.”

Joel frowned. “I damn near failed geography when I was in high school. You’re gonna have to help me out a little here, darlin’. Where’s Somalia?”

“East Africa.”

“Africa?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had never been into traveling—he preferred to stay put in his bubble in Texas. Flying out to Paris for Wyatt and the wedding had been Joel’s first time leaving the United States. He never had a desire to go and see the world, nor the interest. But he would have been lying if he said you hadn’t piqued his interest with such an unexpected answer. “What were you doin’ down there?”

“Working. I’m a traveling physician.”

Joel’s mouth fell open slightly. “You’re a doctor?”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Is that such a surprise?”

“How old are you?”

“It’s not polite to ask a lady her age,” You smacked his arm playfully. “Don’t you know that?”

He flushed. “Sorry, it’s just—you seem a bit young to be a doctor, that’s all. I wouldn’t have thought.”

Tilting your head to the side, you asked, “Well how old do you think I am, cowboy? And don’t lie to me just to stay in my good graces. I won’t be offended by your guess, I promise.”

“Twenty five?” Joel guessed, honestly. “Or twenty six?”

“You flatter me, but no. I’ll be thirty in December.”

“So tell me, doc. How long were you in Africa?”

“About a month,” You replied. “I was there with my team to visit some of the villages in Somalia to see families in need of basic healthcare. We offer them medicine and supplies, we offer vaccines. I tend to the children, mostly. I specialize in pediatrics.”

Joel couldn’t help but stare at you in awe.

“What?”

“That’s just really impressive,” he admitted. After a minute, he found himself asking, “Now that you’re done workin’ down there, are you goin’ back home to Austin for a while? That where you’re from?”

You shook your head, and he hoped he didn’t look as disappointed as he felt.

“I’m from Laredo,” You said. “But then I moved for college. I did pre-med at The University of Texas in Austin.”

“You visitin’ your old stompin’ grounds?” he joked.

“Something like that.” You giggled. “One of my old professors, he invited me to give a lecture to some of his students who are interested in medicine and might want to pursue careers in the field—I’ll only be in Austin for a day, then it’s off to my next work assignment.”

Joel shot you another incredulous look.

“What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“I just figured you’d have to be some old geezer to give a lecture to college students.”

“Nope. You just have to be really good at what you do,” You winked at him. “That’s all.”

Before Joel could say another word, an attendant at the airline counter picked up their radio to make an announcement over the intercom—the flight to Austin had been canceled and all passengers were required to book a new one for the following day.

There was a collective groan in the lounge.

“Well, that’s a bummer,” You let out a tiny sigh and stood up, slinging the long, thick strap of your bag over your shoulder. Turning towards him, you gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for talking to me. It was nice having some company.” Lightly touching his shoulder, you said, “Good luck in getting home tomorrow, cowboy.”

Retracting your hand, you whirled around.

Joel jumped to his feet, ready to stop you.

But it was too late.

With the hustle and bustle of everyone scrambling towards the airline ticket counter, he’d quickly lost you in the massive crowd of people.

Joel craned his neck, searching around for you.

“C’mon,” he muttered. “Where’d you go?”

Finally, after a couple of minutes, Joel spotted you walking away from one of the counters with a new plane ticket in hand.

He didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Making his way through the crowd, Joel rushed to the counter and up to the same blond woman who had assisted you. “That girl who was just here, the one with the dark curly hair,” he said. “Can you tell me which flight she booked?”

The attendant gave him a strange look. “Yes she is on the first flight available to Austin,” she stated in a thick, French accent. “Seven in the morning.”

“I need to be on that flight,” Joel told her. Noticing the hint of annoyance on her face, he added in the most polite tone he could muster, “Please. And I’d like the seat next to hers, if it’s possible.”

She shot him another odd look, but typed away at her keyboard and checked the computer screen.

“My apologies, Monsieur. But the seat next to her has already been booked by another passenger.”

“What ‘bout one close to her, then?” He tried.

“I am afraid the only seats left available are at the very back of the plane or business class.”

Joel sighed. He pulled his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans and handed her his credit card.

“Fine. I’ll just upgrade to a business class seat.”

The attendant nodded. “Of course, Monsieur.”

Once he was all set, he thanked her and started to make his way through the lounge and towards the exit. He walked outside and took a look around the terminal, his eyebrows pulling together.

He knew the chances of finding you were slim, but he took comfort in knowing that he would see you in the morning on the flight back to Austin.

Until then, he had about nine hours to kill.

“Suppose there’s worse cities to be stuck in,” Joel muttered to himself. Most places had translations, and he figured he could get by on his own alright. The hotel he’d stayed at with the wedding party, it wasn’t too far from the airport—after a drink and a bite to eat, he could book a room for the night and crash until the morning.

He started down the sidewalk, but then stopped—out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of your curls and his stomach fluttered eagerly.

You were standing in line waiting for a cab holding what appeared to be a map in your hands.

Before his mind and body could even try making a connection, he found himself walking over to you.

“Hey there,” Joel greeted as he approached you.

You looked up from your map and beamed at him.

“Hey! Did you manage to get a new flight home?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I did. I’m on the first one out to Austin at seven o’ clock in the mornin’.”

Your smile widened. “I’m on that one too!”

“You don’t say,” Joel said in a nonchalant tone. He didn’t want to admit he already knew that. “Well, if that just ain’t a funny coincidence.” His eyes fell to the map in your hands. “What’cha got there?”

“A map to the city.”

He laughed. “Gonna go sightseein’ or what?”

“I am indeed going sightseeing, actually.”

Joel’s smile faltered. “You serious? At this time?”

“I’ve been to Paris a couple of times before. I have always wanted to see it at night, but never had the guts to do it,” You confessed. “But here I am stuck for the next nine hours, so I suppose tonight is the night I finally do it.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I prefer the term adventurous.” Folding your map, you looked at him. “What about you, cowboy? You have anything planned for your night?”

Joel shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Was gonna go grab a bite to eat and then get a hotel room to crash in.”

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to ask you to join him for a late dinner and drinks—just when he had worked up the courage to go for it, you spoke.

“Did you get to see the city while you were here?”

“I didn’t see much of anythin’,” he admitted. “With the weddin’ and all, I didn’t have the time. It ain’t a big deal, though. I ain’t a big sightseein’ kinda guy to begin with, you know?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Wait a minute, I just want to make sure I have this straight—you’ve got an entire commitment free night in Paris, and you’re going to spend it cooped up in some hotel room?”

Joel shrugged. “I reckon I am.”

“No way.” You grabbed his arm and started to pull him over towards an available cab. “You’re coming with me tonight.”

“Wait just a minute, darlin’—”

Ignoring him, you continued to drag him along. “It would a crime if you didn’t see this city before you go back home,” You stated, opening the back door to the car. You tried shoving him into the backseat but he caught himself on the roof of the vehicle.

“Whoa, whoa. Hold on there a second, angel,” he said with a chortle. “You’re really just gonna spend a whole night in a foreign city with a complete and total stranger you just met half an hour ago? What if I’m some kinda serial killer?”

You blinked. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Well no I ain’t a serial killer, but my point is—”

“Then we’re fine,” You chirped. “Come on, let’s go. There’s no time to waste.”

Pushing past him, you climbed into the backseat.

“You coming?” You asked over your shoulder.

Joel chuckled, sliding in next to you.

“Guess I am.”

He shut the door behind him—this was happening and yet somehow it didn’t even feel real.

A chance to spend the entire night with you?

It just didn’t feel real to him.

“I’m Camila,” You introduced yourself, extending a hand towards him.

He took your hand, holding it in his.

“Camila,” Joel repeated with a smile. “That’s a real pretty name for a real pretty girl.”

You grinned.

“How about you, cowboy? You got a name?”

“Joel. Joel Miller.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“Well Joel Miller, it seems like we aren’t complete and total strangers anymore, are we now?”

His own grin widened. “No, darlin’ I suppose we ain’t.”

#queued to post #fic: talk tonight #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x original character #Joel miller x original female character #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller story #joel miller series #pedro pascal characters

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starheirxero · 26 days

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I love you Eclipses with multiple arms. I love you Eclipses that can retract or add more at will. I love you Eclipses who stole their extra arms from other people. I love you Eclipses who were made with multiple arms to wrangle more kids. I love you Eclipses who have multiple arms because they aren't entirely animatronic.

I love you Eclipses with multiple voices. I love you Eclipses who stitch together clips of other people speaking to communicate. I love you Eclipses who speak with a layer of heavy static. I love you Eclipses who speak only in video game sound effects. I love you Eclipses who don't speak at all.

I love you Eclipses with a red/black/orange color scheme. I love you Eclipses with a yellow and blue color scheme. I love you Eclipses with a purple color scheme. I love you Eclipses with a black and white color scheme. I love you Eclipses with a glitchy handful of colors.

I love you Eclipses who hate Sun and Moon. I love you Eclipses who love Sun and Moon. I love you Eclipses who have a messy relationship with Sun and Moon. I love you Eclipses who are Sun and Moon.

I love you Eclipses who bite and snarl. I love you Eclipses who are cold and calculating. I love you Eclipses who are scared and anxious. I love you Eclipses who are silly and whimsical. I love you Eclipses who are ominous and unsettling.

I love you Eclipses who sink their claws into everything out of a fear it will leave. I love you Eclipses who believe they've never done anything wrong. I love you Eclipses who actually have never done anything wrong. I love you Eclipses who were made to fail. I love you Eclipses who deserved better.

I love you Eclipses <3

#xero says things #sorry i'm in a MOOD tonight #eclipse has always been my favorite tbh #even before tsams when eclipse was still just that sprite in balloon world #the whole vibe has just. absolutely wholly enraptured me #i have seen lots of art and read lots of fics and a lot of these are based of those eclipses ive seen before. the voice one is almost-#-entirely me tho LMAO a lotta ppl make eclipse talk normally so thats all in my heart.....#dca fandom #fnaf dca #fnaf eclipse #eclipse fnaf #dca eclipse #eclipse dca #glitchdrop #sams eclipse #eclipse sams #< tsams is my primary fandom rn so. yk HSJAHS #long post

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theminecraftbee · 4 months

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[writing found in a floating temple belonging to an unknown player on a distant server. while there were no signs of life in the temple, there were signs of life in the caves below it, including some rusted armor sets, complicated machinery overgrown by birch saplings, and a small robot with a tag on it that read “lil buddy” and a battery clutched in one of its claws. despite all attempts, researchers could not find the portal that is normally found by those players taken in by the vault gods, though given the presence of an altar, it is certainly nearby, and the area has been quarantined until that portal’s location can be ascertained.]

I asked Idona to save me the other day.

It feels fickle; it feels like the sort of thing I only said because that’s what one ought to say to gods, when they want something from them. “Save me, Idona.”

They did no such thing, but I didn’t expect them to. I knew them when they still demanded blood sacrifice; now that they merely demand challengers at their altar instead of anything so obvious as the blood of their enemies, it can be easy to forget how malicious they had once seemed. It’s easy to forget that asking things of them had once ended poorly.

Perhaps that’s the Paradox that they are showing me; I had asked Idona to save me because within that Paradox, they would build a mine. That a blood god now offers mines and blacksmiths to me instead, in a place I can design to access myself—well, it’s easy to forget how I once knew them.

It’s easy to forget how often their challenges killed me once, too, back before I knew the trick to finish them quickly. The Gods had seemed just as cruel and capricious as always when I’d simply failed to find enough of the chests they’d laid out and they punished me by causing my health to steadily fade away.

That rarely happens anymore.

You see, yesterday, I killed a wither with a single hit from my javelin and a single hit from my sword. As I flew home, a nether star clutched in my feelers, I felt very little. It was hardly a challenge compared to the vaults; I don’t know why I’d expected more.

The gods have challenged me; I have risen to that challenge. I sweep through vaults, their minders at the side of my head, until I find their altar to bow at, find their altar to make promises of being the challenger they’re looking for at. I know the tricks to find my way around a vault, after all. I spend more time there than the overworld.

I wonder if I’m becoming arrogant, actually.

Even without my armor or sword, I’m too strong for the endermen I used to accidentally release from my farms. I hit them once and they die; if the punch doesn’t work, a javelin or a cast spell will. With the endermen, it’s fine.

With my parrots or dogs—

I have Lil Buddy now. He can’t die because I’m not meant for the overworld anymore, I don’t think.

I wonder if that, too, is the Paradox. The gods are gifting me unlimited power. I step into a vault I have designed myself, under their guidance, and I pull untold riches from it every time. The gods are gifting me strength, which I can call from an altar at any time. No threat can step near me without either being poisoned or scratched by the strength of my blade.

But I have not had a pet that is not made of metal in—I don’t know how to count days any longer. Time passes strangely inside of vaults. It is Wendarr’s trickery. I simply know I haven’t since I was level 70, and that feels like ages ago.

That’s about when I realized perhaps I am untouchable to that which I want, too.

Maybe I should ask Idona to save me for a reason that was not me, desperately trying to seek out their altar for jewels I hardly need these days; maybe I should ask Idona to save me from sacrificing more than I can give.

I know them, though. I’ve known them since they’ve demanded blood.

They won’t.

And one day, I will give them everything, and I will thank them for it. The one god that even they worship above all others, after all, is greed, and that is an altar I cannot simply stop going to.

#vh talk #vh logs #vault hunters #a bee fic #I was playing vault hunters tonight and DID ACTYALLY SAY ‘save me idona’#and it was a joke but it made me think #so here! some fanfic of my level 95 sona realizing that they are untouchable these days for better or worse.#me realizing that I am currently REALLY USED TO being a late-game rpg player that deals ~150 damage an attack with regularity #me realizing how untouchable that makes me to. anything that can’t punch through 115 armor points and like 300 DPS #late-game vault hunters is wild man.

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justafewsmallsteps · 4 months

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Currently crying in a corner because I remembered that Inuyasha visited the well at least every three days.

And I don’t think he was waiting for Kagome to “come back”

As much as he was waiting/trying to see if the well would open for him

So he could go to her

Because he chose her. Because he thinks they were born for each other. Because since she has people who love her in her era, maybe that’s where she belongs

But he truly believes that he belongs with her, wherever and whenever.

#jafss rants #jelly talks #Inuyasha #inukag #kagome higurashi #just thinking about how many amazing fics mention #Inuyasha waiting for Kagome to come back #but you know maybe he didn’t think that she was going to cross back over #he was willing to leave everything to go to her #but ultimately she chooses to go back to him #selfless and true power of love #is wrecking me tonight

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white-weasel · 2 months

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Thinking about the au where Brit and Mallick become apprentices again and moreso thinking about Dr. Gordon watching all of it unfold.

He sees himself in Brit, professional hotshots, too busy with work to care about other people’s thoughts or feelings. Through their time in their traps they are pushed to realize that there is no weakness in emotion and that relationships built with others can push people to do what they need to, even in life or death situations. They made a connection within the game and that connection changed their entire life.

In Mallick he sees Adam, both men who seemed to be surrounded by people who said they cared, but never actually did. They wanted to escape from life and didn’t realize just how much they truly wanted to live until they were actually faced with death.

And sometimes when he looks at the two of them, Mallick saying something dumb and Brit rolling her eyes but not quite being able to hide the corner of her mouth twitching up, he can see it being him and Adam instead. In his mind, they’re living out the exact same “what if” scenario that Lawrence has been playing out in his mind for years — a scenario that could have been real if only he had kept his promise to Adam

#to everyone I’m so sorry about posting so much saw today idk what‘a in the air tonight I just have so many thoughts #anyways I thought about this at work today and almost combusted. might become a fic might not but I needed to share because I’m losing it #hopefully this is coherent. do you guys see what I’m putting down? do you see the vision??#Lawrence Gordon #brit stevenson #mallick scott #adam faulkner stanheight #chainshipping #pintshipping #saw #saw series #saw franchise #sawposting #white weasel talks

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joelsgreys · 9 months

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Talk Tonight (Joel Miller x OC Female Reader)

Summary: After their flight home is canceled, two complete strangers decide to spend the entire night getting lost together in one of the most beautiful cities in the world—what could go wrong?

Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x OFC Camila Mendoza

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Only Minors DNI. NO big age gap, Joel is 35 and Reader is 29. Reader is a mixed woman of color, she is multilingual, although it is written in second person POV (I am terrible at doing third person, sorry) she does come with a name. I also do give her a physical description EXCEPT for her body type (she is shorter than Joel though). Ultimately, if you choose to read this story, you’re more than welcome to read it how you want! If you want to picture her as I write her or as your own—whatever tickles your fancy! Chapters will come with their own individual warnings but overall: mention of spouse loss/death, mentions of surviving infidelity, a lot of fluff, dashes of angst, eventual smut. Set one year before the outbreak. Early 2000’s romcom kinda vibes.

A/N: This has been my lil passion project. Idk if it’s just me I feel like it can be kind of hard for OC stories to gain traction, but tbh compared to everything else I’ve been writing this one has been the easiest. I don’t feel much pressure like I do with everything else. Don’t get me wrong, I do hold a special place in my heart for all the other works I have done/going on but I feel so laid back about this one. Mostly because it’s already written 😂 but anywho, this one is a lil treat for me myself and I and if anyone else enjoys it, that’s just an awesome bonus. 🤍

**chapters containing smut

Part 1 l Charles De Gaulle Airport

Part 2 l The Eiffel Tower

Part 3 l Avenue des Champs-Élysées

Part 4 l Musée du Louvre**

Part 5 l The Pont Neuf (Seine River)**

Part 6 l Hotel Le Mareuil**

Part 7 l The Flight Home (Epilogue)

#joel miller #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x oc #joel miller series #joel miller x original character #fic: talk tonight

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static-radio-ao3 · 8 days

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fic snippy

“No, really, I can tell what people listen to with just one look,” Regulus argues. He glances at James, who has his eyes on the road, head tilted in consideration. The red of the light floods the car, staining James’ face in a warm hue. It looks good on him, Regulus decides. “Okay, do me,” James says. The turn signal ticks steadily on. The light stays red. Regulus doesn’t breathe. For the barest, briefest moment, heat floods his face. He’s thankful James is such a careful driver, eyes never on Regulus for long. “What?” He manages. “Do me,” James repeats. He shoots Regulus a quick glance. “What do I listen to?” Air floods his lungs again, the warm scent of wood and allspice that is now so familiar to him. He pretends to consider it for a moment. Makes a show of looking James up and down, examining the way his glasses sit low on his nose, somehow always smudged. The light turns green. The car rolls into motion. “Whale sounds and city pop,” Regulus says eventually. James’ eyes flit over to Regulus, wide and amazed behind his smudged glasses, eyebrows raised. “Holy shit, how did you know?” He breathes out, incredulous. Regulus huffs, soft and fond. “You regularly let me queue up songs on your Spotify. I have eyes, James.” James’ shoulders droop. He sulks with his whole body, Regulus has learned. It is not enough to pout, mouth twisted in childlike annoyance. No, he needs to sag and wilt like the plants on Regulus’ windowsill, not satisfied until they get attention. “Not fair,” James whines and Regulus imagines that he sounds like the kids he teaches. “Never said I was.”

#i love this regulus very very dearly ok #fic: talking on the ride home #title is subject to change!#i'm currently thinking of “talking on the ride home” or “i need somebody tonight” or a secret third thing that i haven't figured out yet #mil's writing #n e ways dropping this here and logging off for a few days bc busy </3

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smallblueandloud · 5 months

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i keep feeling like. there's something parallel between rose and yaz's endings. maybe parallel isn't the right word -- but i keep wanting to draw comparisons, i think because they're two characters who really defined specific doctors and for whom it's basically confirmed the doctor returned their (romantic) feelings

(they're not the ONLY ones who fit this description, but i'm in no way qualified to talk about clara or even river, so bear with me)

it just feels. i don't know. rose never leaves on purpose. she is separated from the doctor, forcibly, every single time. the doctor sends her home, or she gets stuck in an alternate universe, or the doctor leaves her in the same alternate universe. every single time, she fights to get back to the doctor. the writers had to create a perfect happy ending for her (half-human version of her doctor who'll age along with her, in the alternate universe where her father is alive) because otherwise she wouldn't stop fighting to get back to the doctor, and the show can't have that. the show needs to move on. we need rose to fade into the past.

i haven't seen all of yaz's episodes, but her arc seems very similar from the limited amount i've seen. she keeps fighting to get back to the doctor. she's in love with the doctor, and the doctor basically confirms returning her feelings, albeit in a very stilted, hesitant, doctor-y way (compare "imagine that happening to someone you--" with "and if i was going to, believe me, it would be with you").

but when yasmin's doctor regenerates... yaz is just expected to. step away, go back to living her life, never see the doctor again. kinda like the abandonment that most companions have ever experienced -- getting dropped off once and then goodbye forever! -- except with more of the onus on her. the show has to move on from rose's era, so she gets dumped on a beach. the show has to move on from yasmin's era, so yaz has to accept that the doctor is going off to die alone. she has to make her peace with that information.

i don't know. i think yaz's ending is trying to go hand-in-hand with graham and ryan's purposeful exit -- it seems like the chibnall era tried really hard to have Not Terrible endings for companions. which is very admirable! but honestly? yasmin's ending feels crueler than most, including rose's. yaz was in love with the doctor. the doctor reciprocated those feelings. they should've gotten their equivalent of s2-era 10rose! she should've gotten a chance to stay with the doctor through their regeneration, the way other love interests have been able to (s/o to river and clara!).

i know this is because of the limitations of the show. bad ratings meant chibnall left after only one regeneration, and new incarnations of the show rarely bring in characters from other eras.

but i'm still very sad for yaz :( like yes, she wasn't just dumped on the curb without warning. but she was still expected to say goodbye to someone she loved, knowing that person was dying, and not say a word of protest. if the previous history of the show is any indication, she's never going to see the doctor again. she doesn't get a half-human version of the doctor to live out her days with, and she's not "allowed" to fight to get back to the doctor, either, due to the way the show's structured (but also the way the doctor talked about them saying goodbye). she has to live the rest of her life knowing that the doctor is out there, perfectly capable of visiting, and the only reason they won't visit is because yaz is from a specific time of their life that they've moved on from.

i know she has the companion support group. and i know she'll move on! she's yaz. she's strong and self-actualized. she'll be okay, eventually. but she has to be okay, you know? she has to learn to live without the doctor. rose never had to do that.

it just makes me sad :(

#doctor who #thasmin #yasmin khan #thirteen x yaz #i guess maybe this post can be summed up by ''yaz is kinda the (nuwho) doctor's first actual ex. and her being an ex makes me sad :(''#sb and l rambles #sb and l watches dw #this post has been brimming for awhile but i sat down to write dw fic tonight and went ''i can't do this without talking about yasmin''#i'm not criticizing the show necessarily. i know why they had to make these choices.#i think i do prefer for 13 and yaz's ''breakup'' to be a mutual understanding as opposed to 13 leaving her on a curb w/out any warning #they were doing the best they could with a limited hand #it just makes me sad :( and it makes me hope that they mention yaz in the next season #essbie? hoping the show calls back to a love interest that isn't rose?? it's more likely than you think!#i am just so attached to yaz. i didn't expect to be but god she's so great and she just gets dealt such a difficult hand :(#and she copes with it! of course she does! ....but rose never had to deal with that kind of difficulty.

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mamawasatesttube · 24 days

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i miss timkon... tmr i should write something cute for them. its been like what, 3 weeks since i wrote anything cute about them?? i miss them... besties to lovers im coming for u...

#rimi talks #i mean technically the tim misses his mom fic is about them but its like. so pre-relationship its much more & than /#and i miss the Rome Ants... i want to write mushy cute shit tomorrow i think #sigh. id do it tonight but it is midnight and my head hurtys. :(

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brighteststar707 · 1 month

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nothing worse than having a fic done and just needing to TITLE IT

#aaaargh #fic coming tonight #just need to find a nice name for it #faye talks

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iamthecomet · 4 months

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Comet my dear, do you have any aethshine thoughts you would like to share? I am Thinking about them and thought, perhaps, you would like to as well. 😌

Dearest Miasma, I'm sure I can conjure up some thoughts (I am plagued with thoughts). 650ish words of Aether/Sunshine musings. Not quite ficlet, definitely not just headcanons. Some angst (of the missing their packmates variety). More smut. They just love each other a lot ok!? Transfem Sunny because I said so.

With the rest of the pack gone, the ghoul wing is eerie. Sunshine's never seen it like this. Impossibly quiet. So many doors shut, rooms sealed off. Sure if she wanted to she could open Cirrus' door, slip in. Bury her face in the the blankets and pillows and clothes left behind. She could sleep in a different empty bed every night. Drift off to the smell of her missing packmates. She doesn't though, doesn't have to. Aether's with her. Noise carries differently when they're the only two in this part of the Abbey. Like a room with all the furniture moved out. The television drones, and she can hear it down the hall. Distant mumbling. When Aether's in his room, playing guitar, humming a tune she can hear him like he's next to her. They spend a lot of time together. Neither of them talk about it, but the emptiness of their home has seeped into the chambers of their hearts too. Bittersweet and aching with each video call where Cumulus pans the phone around so Sunshine can see the Eifle Tower lit up against the sky. Or when she can hear Aether and Dew talking through the walls. Dew's voice terse as he complains about everything except what's really bothering him. Sunshine slips into Aether's room once she's sure he's off the phone. Once they've both exchanged their good nights with their pack, halfway across the world. Sometimes they talk. Curled up together on Aether's big bed. TV on some show they've seen a hundred times. Voices hushed like there is someone they might wake up. Sometimes, Aether pulls her close. Kisses the breath from her lungs. Hands sunk into her curls as he holds her where he needs her. Thumbs pressed against the base of her horns, tongue sweeping over her teeth. She's glad it's Aether. Has been since they both announced their retirement independently of each other. Grateful not to be alone and glad it's him. Steady, devoted, Aether. Who only has to look at her to understand. Who will sit with her at the piano in their empty rehersal room and sing. Who lets her tag along on his infirmary shifts when she can't sleep. Aether who has good book reccomendations and makes sure Sunshine never gets bored enough to really feel how much she misses everyone else.

Aether, who knows exactly how to touch her to shut her mind off. Who holds her with confidence, knows she won't break as he presses her down into the mattress. Slips one hand into the waistband of her leggings and another up, under he crop top to cup a small breast in his giant hand. calloused fingers dragging over a pebbling nipple. Aether feels like home when he touches her. Even when it's rough and desperate. Even when he has both of their cocks in his fist, dragging the heads together, making her vision fuzzy at the edges. Even when he's three fingers deep inside of her, scissoring her open, pressing against spots that make her feel like she's going to cave in on herself.

Pleasure bowls over her, over and over again. His teeth pressed to her pulse. Breath huffed out in sharp pants over her sweat slick skin. Pressing in as deep as he can go, making her feel the way he carves out a place inside of her, his hand pressed firm over hers on her belly so she can feel him fucking her. There is no difference between this and the times when they move slower. When Aether presses his mouth to every inch of exposed skin on her body. When she does the same, grazing teeth over the swell of his belly, the cushion of his thighs. When I love yous are whispered freely. Either way, when she cums under Aether's gaze, it feels like going home.

#comet writes #miasma ♥#ficlet #ish #Aether Ghoul #Sunshine Ghoulette #Aether/Sunshine #I could talk about them forever #but this is going to have to be good enough for now #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost headcanons #nameless ghoul headcanons #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfiction #I don't know man the metaphors and flowery poetry language really just got away from me tonight

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