#yeah i get pissed at my country's history
Note
I bet canadian history is more interesting...why is amerikan history so boring
...
what's canadian history like???
Okay, so it has been a bit since I've been in public school, and the most recent history course I took was a college course;
There's your standard stuff like knowing about how Canada became a country (1867), and also knowing about our Charter of Rights and Freedoms. There's also the war efforts (ranging from War of 1812 to modern peacekeeping missions).
I personally do not care what some white dude did all those years ago; like the first prime minister was a massive racist. I outright do not celebrate any holiday which celebrates colonization (Victoria Day, Canada Day, Thanksgiving, etc.).
In more recent years there has been more inclusion of the history of our Indigenous people, and the genocide that happened and is still happening today. Actually, on September 30th it's the national day of Truth and Reconciliation.
As a general disclaimer before you go searching through Canada's history; you will find genocide, as North America is a colonized continent. You will find articles and survivor accounts of "Indian" Residential 'Schools', of which they are still discovering mass graves of children. These 'schools' were an act of cultural genocide and were active until 1996, and were governed by both the government and various churches.
The history of any colonized place has a history bathed in blood, but it may not be taught due to different policies (cough, racist policies, cough).
Sorry for my bit of a tangent, I'm just so tired of people ignoring the history, because the 'past' is very much still felt today.
#kei!#cw genocide#cw death#there is even more racism alongside how we treat our indigenous people#other examples; japanese internment camps during WWII; the death of chinese immigrants building the pacific railways-#-segregation of black and white people (see viola desmond's story)#cw racism#yeah i get pissed at my country's history#fuck colonizers
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gif by the amazing @pedropascalsx
September Part 2
Firefly Hospital, 2024
summary: Twenty years ago, Joel Miller was the love of your life. On the day of the Outbreak, you’d gotten separated and never saw him again—imagine your surprise when you find out the smuggler Marlene hired to bring the immune girl to your research hospital is none other than the man you thought you’d lost forever.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader (reader is a doctor with no physical descriptions)
rating: E (18+! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (10 years), oral sex (f receiving), face-sitting, vaginal fingering, coming untouched, dirty talk, praise kink, canon-typical violence, minor character death, slight angst, emotions, love confessions, mentions of PTSD, handwavey medical jargon (went to google medical school for this one), Ellie being a cockblock, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU finale speculation, TLOU tv spoilers, TLOU game spoilers)
word count: 16.6k+
a/n: This goes over reader and Joel’s reunion after twenty years of being apart. It is dramatic and a fun ride. I’m playing fast and loose with game canon to speculate how the show finale will go, and this chapter follows a bit of how it goes in the game, with me taking some liberties. Thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing and being by my side.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!
Part 1 - Part 3 - Series Masterlist - Masterlist
20 Years After the Outbreak
He can’t fucking believe it.
He’s at a loss.
Months Joel spent with this little girl, bringing her across the country, keeping her safe, protecting her with his life—fucking Tess lost hers getting Ellie to the Fireflies, and they’re just going to kill her in order to reverse-engineer a vaccine? She was a lamb to the slaughter. He’d inadvertently brought her to her death.
Anger is threading in his belly, pissed off over everything he went through, feeling like it was all for nothing, not if she’s going to die.
They’re in a hospital that’s being used by the Fireflies to try and find a cure, Ellie taken from him, Joel kneeling on a hospital room floor after an armed guard had hit him, listening to Marlene talk about how this was harder for her due to her history with the girl.
Joel rolls his eyes because if she actually gave a shit about Ellie, she wouldn’t let this happen.
There has to be another way.
He has to find Ellie.
He almost lost her getting here, and he isn’t going to just step back and let her die, the world be damned, he can’t lose another person he cares about, not if he can help it. He’ll do everything in his power to find her and get her the fuck out of here—she’s too important to him.
Marlene’s in front of him, the guard at her side.
“This isn’t about me, her, or you,” she tells him. “There is no other choice here—my hands are tied.”
He scoffs, moving to sit on his ass and resting his arms on his knees, glaring at her. “Yeah,” he sneers, “you keep tellin’ yourself that bullshit if it helps you sleep at night.”
She sighs, shaking her head.
“March him out of here,” she orders the guard. “He tries anything. Shoot him. Don’t ruin this, Joel.” She turns on her heel, opens the room door, and leaves, Joel’s mind racing with what he can do. He’s sized up the other man, knowing he can take him, the only disadvantage being that Joel didn’t have any weapons, and he did.
“Get up,” the Firefly says.
Joel doesn’t bother moving, working out in his brain his next steps. He needs to get his hands on a gun, thankful they hadn’t handcuffed him, which would give him the opportunity to disarm the guard.
Get a weapon, find Ellie
His mind chants.
It was evident that she wasn't safe as long as these people were alive, so he’d take out anyone who got in his way.
“I said get up.” The other man raises his handgun, pointing it at Joel.
He sighs, groaning as he rises, rage pulsing in his veins, his jaw clenching, hands in tight fists wanting to hit this bastard.
Marlene left the door open, the Firefly’s back to it, his attention focused on Joel, not realizing someone had slipped inside quietly behind him. Joel watches as the smaller person claps a hand over the man’s mouth, their other hand slicing open his throat with what he thought might be a scalpel. The guard gurgles as he falls forward, the gun clattering to the ground, grabbing at his neck to try and stop the bleeding, to no avail, falling to the floor in a growing pool of blood.
Joel’s confused, his eyes a little wider, taking in his unexpected savior.
From the scrubs she’s wearing and the scalpel, he thinks she’s some kind of doctor. Her hair is hidden under a surgical cap, her face obscured with a mask covering half of it as if she’d left in the middle of an operation.
She’s bending down and picking up the gun, tossing it to him when she straightens, Joel catching it easily.
“Who are you?” he asks.
There’s something familiar about her eyes, but he can’t place who she is, not sure who the fuck he knew who’d be all the way out here and willing to risk their life for him, his brain coming up with no one.
For one hopeful second, even though he knows it’s fucking impossible, he thinks it’s Tess until the woman speaks, her muffled voice dashing his hopes, “No time to chat,” she says. “We have to get Ellie—I couldn’t do it alone.”
His eyebrows are in his hairline, all of the confusion and disappointment being replaced with hope once more.
“You know where she is?” he asks.
“Yes,” she answers, nodding. “Follow me. Your stuff is down this hall.” She points behind her. She’d discarded the scalpel, pulling a handgun from the back of her pants. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”
Leaving without another word, Joel is hot on her heels. Questions could wait until Ellie was safe, keeping his guard up and on alert, fingers itching to kill these assholes. Down the hallway, she shows him where his things are on a counter, him quickly putting on his backpack, their weapons drawn as they start moving, him covering her back.
“We’re turning up here,” she whispers. “Two guards—need to get to the stairwell.”
“Copy that.”
Eerie calmness washes over him, his brain working to figure out their next moves. She stops at the corner, glancing around it. Her head turns toward him, nodding, then she steps out, two shots ringing out. Joel sees the Fireflies crumpling to the ground as he follows.
“Clear,” she says, stuffing her gun into her pants as she goes to one of the bodies to take their semi-automatic rifle. Joel does the same, impressed with the clean headshots.
“Who are you?” he asks again, taking up point behind her again with the bigger gun.
“We’ll worry about that later, Joel,” she answers, already on the move.
“How’d you know my name?”
“Ellie,” she replies. “But I’d never forget Joel Miller.”
Does she know him? Does he know her? His eyes had trailed over her body for any kind of clue, but he came up empty.
“What’s your name?”
“That’s not important,” she says. They’re approaching the stairwell. “Ellie’s on the top floor, far end. The place will be littered with guards. They won’t hesitate to kill you, so show no mercy.”
“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” he grits out. “Would burn this fuckin’ place to the ground if I could.”
“I’ll bring the gasoline. You light the match. Deal?”
Joel huffs out an amused breath. He may not have any idea who this woman is who’s helping him, but she’s competent, knows what needs to be done, and is funny.
He kinda likes her, whoever she is.
They don’t speak as they hurry up the stairs, and once they’ve exited, she jams a chair into the door to lock it.
She was right about the place being littered with Fireflies.
They move as a unit, in sync, somehow knowing what the other would do without speaking, taking out anyone who got in their way swiftly and efficiently. Rage fueled him, and she led him, knowing where to take cover, tossing each other more ammunition divested from those they’d gunned down. The guards had no idea what hit them, hearing screams and frantically calling for reinforcements over their radios, wondering out loud who was killing them.
It’s a bloodbath, a fucking massacre. Joel and this woman are ruthless in their endeavor to get to Ellie.
Blood is spattered on their clothes and skin, sweat clinging to their bodies, breathing hard when they enter a door and see where the operating room is. Joel barricades the door they’d come through with medical equipment to buy them time, his knees aching and back sore, heart racing a mile a minute.
“There will be a nurse and a doctor,” she whispers. “I should’ve been in there, too.”
He grunts in response, taking off his backpack to strap the rifle to it, putting it back on, and grabbing the handgun from his waist.
He’s hoping and praying they’ll make it in time, not sure what he’ll do if they don’t, the trek to the room feeling like it takes forever.
She pushes through the door first, him stepping in after her training his gun on the surgeon about to operate.
“Get away from her!” Joel angrily demands, his teeth bared, ready to shoot.
“What are you doing here?” the surgeon asks, moving to stand between them and Ellie, holding up a scalpel in defense. “You brought him here?” The question was directed at the mystery woman.
“Yes,” she answers, her gun locked on him. “We’re not letting you kill her.”
“She’s our future! You can’t take her! This is the only way to save lives!”
“It’s not!” she shouts, Joel hearing her anger.
“You’ll pay for this—don’t come any closer,” the surgeon threatens, swinging the scalpel around.
There’s no hesitation when she pulls the trigger, the man falling to the ground as the nurse screams, Joel seeing her reaching on a surgical tray for something sharp, his shot stopping her.
The room is cleared, his focus moving to Ellie.
“Sweet Jesus,” he murmurs, his gun going back into his waistband, not wasting another second to get to the girl, her in a surgical gown and oxygen mask, hooked up to an IV, her eyes closed.
“Come on, baby girl,” he says, carefully removing the mask. The woman had shouldered her rifle, moving to the other side of the table to carefully take care of the IV and bandage Ellie’s hand. “I gotcha,” his voice soft as he gently picks her up, his attention moving to the woman. “How do we get outta here?”
He watches as she tears off the cap and, finally, the face mask.
Stumbling back, he feels like he’s been shot, his eyes going wide, all of the oxygen leaving his lungs and making it hard to breathe, blood pounding in his ears.
It can’t be.
Since the night of the outbreak, Joel has been plagued with nightmares, reliving the horrors over and over again, self-medicating with pills and home-brewed booze to dreamlessly sleep. There were nights when he’d dream of the woman he once loved—her eyes, her smile, usually the two of them in bed with soft light pouring in from the window, and if his brain was being particularly cruel, he’d be on top of her, watching as she came around him—something he once loved to see, and was now painful, waking up harder than a rock, and too fucking sad to do anything about it except drink until he passed out. A vicious cycle.
Staring at the woman in front of him, it’s the same face from his dreams.
He’d kissed those lips, held those cheeks, spent hours studying every detail, and thought he’d never see it again—only in memory, another person lost to him.
It feels like he’s seeing a ghost, unable to believe that this is real, that she’s standing there, thinking maybe he might be dead, and he’s having a nice hallucination before his soul leaves this earth.
He croaks out your name, it feeling rusty on his tongue.
She smiles softly, and he sucks in a breath because it is you, and you’re alive, tears beginning to burn in his eyes.
“Hi, babe,” you greet with a wiggle of your fingers in a wave.
His heart constricts, his lips slowly tipping up, replying without a second thought.
“Hi, baby.”
Hours Earlier
“She doesn’t have to die!” you shout.
For months, Marlene has been talking about a girl immune to the infection and that she hired a smuggler to deliver her to your research hospital where you worked, but after most of Marlene’s crew didn’t make the trip here, you all assumed the girl hadn’t survived.
At least you had until she’d been found unconscious nearby, the old bite mark that’d healed and scarred with no sign of infection prominent on her arm, identifying her as Ellie Williams.
Tests were done to confirm her immunity, and now you’re discussing what’s to be done with the lead surgeon at this facility and Marlene, the doctor so adamant about finding a cure he isn’t taking into account that Ellie is a child and that there are other options than doing a procedure that will outright kill her.
“We have to extract the fungus,” he replies.
“Yes, and we can biopsy,” you argue.
“Can that be done?” Marlene asks.
He’s sitting behind his desk, you and Marlene standing in front of it. She’s called you in as a second opinion because you’re second in line behind the surgeon here at the hospital.
You and he speak at the same time.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Her attention moves to him.
“Lay it out for me why a biopsy wouldn’t work.” Her arms are crossed over her chest, looking tired.
“The fungus is intertwined with the brain, and removing it would destroy the host.”
“She’s a child, not some science experiment. Why does it all have to be removed?”
He sighs.
“It’s our best chance at making the vaccine—extract the entire specimen, and we’ll save millions of lives.”
“At the cost of an innocent kid?” Marlene asks with a raised eyebrow.
He leans forward on the desk, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Do you think I’m unaware of the situation?” he asks. “How many Fireflies have died for less? How many sacrifices have been made for nothing when this one will actually have results?”
She looks at you.
“Rebuttal?”
“In order to make a vaccine, we only need some of the mutated infection. It’s possible to biopsy some of it to get what we need—extracting the entire specimen is overkill and murder.”
Marlene faces him again.
“I want to agree with her,” she says, pointing her thumb at you. “If she can do it without killing Ellie, then I’ll have her take over.”
His eyes narrow.
“She’s not even a real doctor.”
“My degree would say otherwise,” you snidely reply.
He met your gaze.
“You didn’t complete your residency—you were an intern when the outbreak happened. I was a practicing physician with years under my belt, and you think you know our best course of action for this situation? I have the experience. I have been searching for a cure for years while you were off being a medic.” The disdain is evident in his tone. “You may have risen in the ranks here over the last five years, but I am the head of this hospital.” He looks at Marlene. “I’ve been working for your cause practically since its inception. Our goal is to make a vaccine. You’ve trusted me here for years to do our work, and we’ve been fighting for this moment—this is our chance to justify all of the sacrifices and horrific things we’ve been through, and we can’t let it all go to waste because our cure happens to reside in a fourteen-year-old girl—you have to trust me on this, a biopsy is not enough, we need it all to ensure the vaccine is made.”
“That’s horse shit!” you exclaimed, throwing up your hands.
Marlene holds her hand up to you, her attention on the surgeon.
“What if this was your daughter?” she asks, well aware that he has one, who’s also a Firefly.
“I wouldn’t hesitate,” he answers. “One life for millions of others? I think it’s worth the sacrifice.”
She nods.
“Do it.”
“Marlene, I can—” you start to protest.
She turns to you, cutting you off, “We have to do whatever it takes to be successful—if you don’t agree, you can leave. It’s being done with or without you, but you're not welcome back once you step outside those doors.”
Your mouth falls open, anger swirling in your gut.
This is murder. They’re going to kill this girl, and what if it doesn’t pan out to anything? This isn’t sitting right with you, not when there are other options. You’ve been with the Fireflies for years, a way to survive and try to do some good, but seeing what they’re willing to do for a cure has made you disillusioned with the group—the experimentations, infecting people to try out vaccines that failed—and now there’s a real shot at getting somewhere, and they want to kill the person who’s giving it to them.
Can you get her out?
Can you save her?
That smuggler she came with managed to get her across the country in relatively good shape, and you have to assume he fought and killed to keep her safe.
Would he help you?
Two against dozens of armed guards sounds like a suicide mission, but what will the Fireflies resort to if this all fails?
As the surgeon said, you spent years as a medic, which meant you were traveling, protecting yourself, gaining your skills as a doctor and in self-defense, not shy about guns, blood, or carnage.
If they’re going to do whatever it takes, then you will too, in order to save this girl.
“Am I understood?” Marlene asks.
“Yes, ma’am,” you reply.
“Good.” She glances back at the man. “I’m gonna go tell Joel.”
The name has a jolt running through you, memories of a man from your past coming to the forefront of your brain—chocolate-colored eyes, brown waves of hair, a strong nose, broad shoulders—Joel Miller was a hard one to lose, and you never recovered, would never recover. He was the love of your life, and you were planning on spending the rest of your days with him and his daughter up until the world ended, and you got separated, hoping they were out there somewhere as safe as they could be in these times. You squash down the sliver of hope, knowing Marlene isn’t talking about your Joel.
“Why?” he asks, making you mad that he’s questioning her decency.
“He traveled with her for months. He has the right to know. Good luck with your surgery.” With that, she left, leaving the two of you.
“I know you don’t agree with me,” he starts, “but today will go down in history as the day we saved the world.”
Your hands clench at your sides, grinding your teeth.
“Right…”
“Get her prepped for the operation. We’ll start in two hours.”
“How many will you need on your service?”
He thinks it over for a second.
“You can scrub in—I won’t need your help. One nurse will do. It’s a pretty straightforward procedure.”
“As you wish, Doctor,” you say through your teeth. “I’ll get the operating room put together.”
With the discussion over, you leave the room, trying to figure out what you’ll do as you walk to the surgical floor, mindlessly changing into scrubs, and a surgical cap, putting on your medical mask last. In the back of your locker, you take the handgun, stuffing it into the waistband of your pants, thankful it was normal to walk around armed.
Before you go to the girl’s room, you stop at the nurse's station, having the few there decide who will help during the surgery.
You’re not going to bother putting the operating room together; that will give you extra time.
Frankly, you shouldn’t even bother seeing the girl, but something inside you wants to meet her, so you go, her sitting up in a hospital bed, legs criss crossed under her, reading some old magazine one of the nurse’s probably brought her.
Knocking on her door, you ask, “Anything good in there?”
She looks over the pages at you.
“Just two hundred and fifty-four hot new fashion, beauty, and body secrets. People really read this shit?”
Laughing, you answer, “Yes, especially girls your age.”
She makes a face that has you snorting, her setting it down.
“It’s crazy how much people cared about how they looked.”
Walking towards her, you smile, nodding your head.
“I know,” you reply. “It would take me a minimum of thirty minutes to get ready before leaving the house.”
Shock is on her face.
“Why did it take so fucking long?”
“Shower, hair, makeup, finding the perfect outfit—if I had a date, it took me an hour because I wanted to look as cute as possible.”
Sadness has your chest going tight, remembering your first date with Joel and how you stressed over what dress to wear, mentally high-fiving yourself when his eyes lit up at seeing you. He tried to be a gentleman, telling you he was old-fashioned and didn’t do sex on the first date, his mind changing by the end of the night when you’d both ended up naked on your living room couch.
“An hour?!” she exclaims, taking you from your reverie. “Why?”
“Well, when two people like each other very much—”
“Ew,” she interrupts. “Yuck, I don’t want to know. Anyways, I’m assuming you’re a doctor?”
Making a show of looking down at your body, you ask, “What gave me away?” You met her eyes again.
“Honestly, you’re not like any doctor I’ve met before—earlier with the tests, they were so…”
“Cold?” you finish for her. “Not very friendly?”
“Exactly.”
You sigh, moving to sit on the edge of her bed.
“There’s no bedside manner anymore,” you say. “It’s getting you fixed up and on your way—at least that’s how it is with newer doctors, the ones who’ve learned over time and didn’t actually go to school before the world went to shit. But I want to make sure you’re comfortable, and—” you look left and right like you’re making sure no one is around before looking at her again“ —It’s nice having someone new to talk to. People here are boring.”
She laughs.
“I can tell.”
It’s the right decision to save this girl. You know, in your gut, that it’s what you need to do.
Her spunkiness reminds you of Sarah, who also wouldn’t have been into two hundred and fifty-four hot new fashion, beauty, and body secrets. You’d bonded with Joel’s daughter over music, her loving your CD collection and always letting her choose what you listened to in the car, her tastes varying, which had a lot to do with her dad loving tunes from the seventies and eighties. She was a firecracker, always keeping her dad on his toes, and here was Ellie keeping you on yours.
“Let’s talk business, squirt,” you say.
Her face scrunches up, “Squirt?”
“Yeah, similar to ‘kiddo,’” you answer.
“You fucking sound like Joel—where is he, by the way? I woke up, and he wasn’t with me. People have been weird and will only say he’s okay.”
The worry is evident on her face, even though she’s trying to hide it.
“I haven’t personally seen him,” you reply. “He is okay, though. Marlene was actually heading to let him know how you’re doing.” And that they’re planning to kill you, you didn’t say out loud.
“That’s good. Don’t need him worrying.”
“I’m impressed he got you all the way here. What’s he like?”
You’re curious about the man.
“Tall, wide—” she held out her hands “—and a grumpy asshole.” Definitely not your Joel, then. “But he’s got his nice moments.” She gives you a conspiratorial look that makes you smile. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I know deep down he’s a fucking softy.”
“You’re secret’s safe with me,” you laugh.
Her face goes somber, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket under her.
“So, what’s gonna happen to me, Doc?”
Your stomach must drop all the way to the ground floor.
You couldn’t lie to her, but you didn’t want to scare her.
“They want to extract the infection from your brain to make a vaccine,” you answer truthfully.
“Who’s they?”
“Marlene and the head of this facility.”
“Oh.” She frowns. “You won’t be there?”
“I was asked to scrub in, but I won’t be operating.”
“Surgery, then?”
“Surgery.” You nod.
“Will it hurt?”
Smiling reassuringly, you answer, “Won’t feel a thing. You’ll be knocked out cold.”
“That’s good. Can I talk to Joel beforehand? I just want to thank him for everything.”
You frown, “That won’t be possible. I’ll happily relay a message to him for you.”
She looks downtrodden, eyes darting away from you.
“That works. Um, if I don’t make it, can you tell him I said thank you? For getting me here safe and not abandoning me? That I’m sorry for being such a fucking pain in his ass.”
You reach to touch her leg comfortingly.
“I’ll let him know,” you reply softly. “You know, I once knew a Joel before everything.” You wave your hand in explanation, her meeting your gaze to nod. “I was going to marry him,” you continue. “He hadn’t asked yet, but I knew he was the one. You never forget a dreamboat like Joel Miller,” you sigh wistfully.
Her eyes go round.
“Joel Miller?” she asks. “Your Joel’s last name was Miller?”
“It was.” You nod. “I loved him and his daughter Sarah.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
You’re taken aback, “I’m sorry..?”
“Sorry, sorry.” She puts up her hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just my grumpy Joel’s last name is Miller, and he had a daughter named Sarah.”
Your heart clenches, and your throat gets tight, asking thickly, “Had?”
Clear sadness comes over her face.
“I don’t know all the details, but she didn’t make it. Early on. Really fucked him up.”
Covering your mouth, you need a second, emotions warring inside you—hope that it is your Joel and unimaginable pain about Sarah, not wanting her to be gone, and thinking of all the years he would’ve been alone, wondering if he even had Tommy. It’s a struggle to keep the tears at bay.
“Your Joel Miller, does he happen to be from Texas?” you finally ask.
“Yeah,” she answers, nodding. “Sounds funny, too. His brother Tommy and him are from, I think, Houston, no, fuck, starts with an ‘A.’”
“Austin,” you breathe, eyes wide as saucers.
“Yeah!” she exclaims. “Holy shit, is my Joel your Joel?”
She’s excited by the prospect, and you’re doing everything not to cry. You need to go to him. You both need to save this girl, and once that’s done, you can have the long overdue reunion. He won’t want her to die, especially not after losing Sarah. It’s cruel that he’s been put in this spot, your blood boiling, knowing without a doubt that if he brought her here alone, the two of you could get her out, or at least you’d both die trying, and you’re willing, especially to see Joel one last time.
“I think he might be,” you reply.
“You gotta go talk to him!”
“I do.” You nod. “Do you trust me?”
She looks confused.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re going to be safe—you’re not going to die. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Okay..?”
“Good. You’re not going to see me again until after you wake up, so don’t panic, squirt. I’ll be there.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to go see him,” you say as you stand up.
She picks up the magazine.
“Do you need kissing tips? It says here that with these techniques, you’ll rock his world.”
You snort.
“Aren’t you a goddamn comedian—you must’ve amused the hell out of Joel.”
She looks proud as she smiles.
“I made him laugh—multiple times.”
“Way to go, kiddo. Don’t tell anyone where I’m going, and I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Sounds good, Doc.”
It was your goal not to arouse any suspicions, walking briskly towards the floor you knew Joel was on, stopping to snag a scalpel, and taking the back way that was a little longer but would have you bypassing a lot of the guards since you had some time to work with, the procedure having to be delayed with nothing being ready.
Hiding in the shadows of the next room, you gasp when you hear Joel calling Marlene on her bullshit, your heart picking up in speed at the familiar Texas drawl and rasp, a stray tear falling down your cheek.
He’s here.
He’s really here and alive.
The focus needs to be on saving Ellie, so you know you can’t trip him up by revealing who you are, thankful you’d changed into your operating clothes.
When his door opens, and you hear Marlene’s footsteps heading away from you, you’re moving, scalpel held tight in your hand, knowing you need to be as quiet as possible so as not to alert the other two guards on this floor.
You don’t even look at Joel when you enter the room, focusing on your task, and executing it seamlessly, only chancing a glance once you’ve tossed him the gun.
He’s older and greyer, years of surviving making his already broad shoulders even broader, his face hardened over time, having some idea of the hell he’s been through, and still, just as he was at thirty-six, at fifty-six, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Your fingers want to smooth the furrow between his eyes, kiss those plush lips of his, feel his arms engulf you, hold you tight, and never let you go.
Twenty years and you’re still madly in love with Joel Miller—one look, and you’re a fucking goner.
You can’t get your hopes up, not knowing anything about his current situation, assuming he’s probably moved on.
Who wouldn’t want him?
There’s no way he’s been single all these years. You’ve had your own flings, nothing long-lasting or very memorable.
Who could compare to Joel?
He’s the blueprint of what you want in a man, and no one could or would ever measure up.
Was your life lonely?
A little, but why tie yourself to someone you’d never be able to love because your heart belonged to another?
“Who are you?” he asks.
“No time to chat,” you reply. “We have to get Ellie—I couldn’t do it alone.” You ignore the excited flutters in your tummy at hearing his voice.
He asks another question, and you answer, leading him from the room, weapons raised, ready to face whatever comes your way, comforted with Joel at your back.
When you reach the top floor, you quickly understand how he managed to get Ellie here in one piece—the man was a killing machine—brutal, merciless, breathtaking.
The way he fought was a thing of beauty, and if you hadn’t had to focus on staying alive, you’d have loved to watch him—seeing his strength, his competence, not wasting a single shot.
Somehow, it made him more attractive, which you didn’t think was possible.
The two of you worked together so well as a pair, covering each other, moving as one to mow down anyone who crossed your path, making it to the operating room just as they were about to begin.
You feel no remorse for killing the surgeon. Frankly, you haven’t felt bad about killing another human in years because there’s no room for feeling guilty when you’re trying to survive—you compartmentalize, knowing that it’s either them or you; if you hesitate for even a fraction of a second, you’re dead, so you’ve got to pull the trigger first, and you will.
You and Joel are on the same page about getting Ellie out of there as soon as possible. You quickly take care of her IV and make sure her hand is bandaged, smiling softly when you see Joel tenderly lift the girl into his arms, murmuring quietly to her, seeing just how much he cares.
There’s no doubt in your mind he would’ve attempted this rescue alone, and the thing is, you’re pretty sure he would’ve succeeded from sheer will alone.
His eyes meet yours, seeing his trust in you, him relying on you now to get you all out.
“How do we get outta here?” he asks.
There’s no point in hiding anymore, honestly surprised your cap and mask even stayed on.
You’re not sure what his reaction will be, hoping for happiness.
When he gets a good look at you, he stumbles back in shock, the blood leaving his face, watching his eyes go wide, mouth agape, seeing the shock, the disbelief, the hope, many emotions coming over his features as he processes what’s going on.
His voice cracks as he breathes your name, and you gently smile, knowing this is probably a lot for him, raising your hand and wiggling your fingers in a wave.
“Hi, babe,” you say.
It’s noticeable on his face the realization that it really is you, and you’re here, his eyes getting misty, lips turning up, the blood in your veins thrumming when he answers like he had a thousand times before without missing a beat, “Hi, baby.”
“You’re alive,” Joel says in wonder, his eyes mapping out your face, seeing lines from aging but still just as beautiful as the first time he saw you all those years ago.
“I am,” you reply, nodding. You point at him. “You are, too. Imagine my surprise when Ellie started telling me about this grumpy asshole named Joel Miller, who brought her here—couldn’t believe it was my Joel Miller until we compared notes. Sorry to spring this on you; I know it’s a shock.”
He huffs out a breath.
“That’s a fuckin’ understatement.”
You giggle.
Is this real? Is he dreaming?
You’re just as lively as he remembers, your smile like a breath of fresh air in this godforsaken world.
There’s a sensation in his stomach, it not feeling right, hitting him a second later that the fluttering is fucking butterflies, as if he was a goddamn teenager again, talking to his crush.
Twenty fucking years, and he still has it bad.
“God, I missed you,” you say.
“I missed you, too.”
“We’ll catch up after we get the fuck out of here. We’re going out that door.” You point at the opposite wall from where you came in. “Pit stop to grab her things that are on the way. Then the elevator to the basement garage—we can get a truck. There’s multiple.”
“I need you to do somethin’ first,” he says.
Your head cocks to the side.
“What do you need?”
“Come ‘ere, my hands are full. I need you to pinch me.”
Your eyebrows drew together.
“You need me to pinch you…?” you ask slowly.
“Yeah,” he answers, nodding. “Gotta make sure I’m not dreamin’—need to know you’re really here with me.”
Your eyes soften, quickly moving around the table until you’re at his side, smiling at him as you pinch his arm, leaning in to kiss his cheek, his skin buzzing where you touch, wanting more of it.
“There,” you say, looking at him through your lashes, and it has him gulping. “Believe I’m here, now?”
“I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby,” his words come out rough, feeling the tears in his eyes.
“I missed you, too, Joel,” you reply, rubbing his arm, goosebumps erupting on his skin. “Let’s get out of here—I wanna catch up.”
He nods, “Lead the way.”
He watches you getting the rifle into your hands, him following you out of the room, stopping to grab Ellie’s backpack that was left on a hospital bed, and you putting it on.
It’s a fucking maze to find the elevator, you knowing exactly where to go, guards showing up halfway to it, commotion erupting as you told him where to go, covering him and Ellie as the three of you moved quickly down the corridors, gunshots ringing out.
You’re both panting by the time the elevator doors close, you taking point in front of him with your gun at the ready.
Joel can’t get over you being here with him.
There’s so much about you that hasn’t changed since all those years ago, somehow keeping your radiance, your life, not losing yourself to the darkness, but underneath all of that, he’s seen how you’ve adapted—killing with zero hesitation, not afraid to do what it takes to survive, a ruthlessness to you that only develops after going through some horrible shit. Guilt makes his chest squeeze, hating that you’ve been out here on your own, surviving. He at least has Tommy, had Tess, and with how easily you’re leaving with him, he doesn’t think you have anyone, and it breaks his heart.
“Do we need to worry about runnin’ into anybody else down there?” he asks.
You glance at him over your shoulder, “They would’ve called everyone to the top floor, and I’m pretty sure we took out at least ninety percent of their muscle. I can’t imagine anyone being stupid enough to try and stop us.”
He nods.
“Thank you,” he says.
“You’re welcome. I’d honestly planned on trying to get her out before I knew it was you who’d brought her. I’m thankful you were here—you’re a fucking tank. Probably wouldn’t have even needed me.”
He chuckles, his chest puffing out a little in pride.
“If I’d had to do it alone, I’d be in a helluva lot more pain, so thank you.”
“Knees?”
He nods. “And my fuckin’ back—I’ve gotten old.”
“But you still look really fucking good,” you reply with a wink, and it makes his throat go dry, his heart hammering that you’re flirting with him, that you’re still interested in him after all this time, even though he’s gone grey, and rougher around the edges. You didn’t even shy away from what he’d do to keep himself and those he cares about safe; pretty sure you even liked it.
It’s been so long, he wonders if you moved on and if he even has a chance with you.
He’s had time to mourn Tess, thankful for the years he got with her, keeping him alive and not letting him self-destruct in his grief, but even though they cared about each other to a certain extent, they’d been using one another—he was the muscle, she was the brains, and he couldn’t give her what she wanted; offer feelings that weren’t hers to have, so what they had wasn’t all that romantic, there wasn’t time for any of that shit, and Tess didn’t much care for it, anyway.
There’s history with Joel and you, memories of a time when you’d been happy together, and being here with you is making him remember all of the good times—the feelings he had for you that he’d buried deep inside after he thought you were gone, coming alive inside him, consuming him, wanting to touch you, feel your soft skin under him, and kiss you—fuck, he hasn’t kissed in so long, Tess never being very affectionate, sex always quick and a means to scratch an itch.
He clearly remembers what sex was like with you—it haunts his dreams, the time you’d spend in bed, reliving the passion, the tenderness, the love, something deep down he’s craved since the last time he was with you.
The elevator opens before he can speak, the gun raised in your hands as you exit, Joel at your back, both of you stopping in your tracks once you’re out, finding Marlene standing there with her handgun pointed towards you both.
“What’s your plan?” she asks. “You save her today, but what about tomorrow? There’s a lot of shit out there. How long before she’s killed by a pack of clickers? If she even makes it that long without being murdered first. Face it, you can’t save her.”
“We’ll sure as fuck try,” he grits out. “Stop pretendin’ like you care about her. You were happy to stand aside and let her die.”
“For the greater good, to save lives.”
“You can shove the greater good up your ass, Marlene.”
She sighs.
“You can still do the right thing.” Her attention moves to you. “Do the biopsy like you wanted. All I care about is finding the cure. I’ll put you in charge of the facility. You can lead in the vaccine’s development.”
You scoff.
“You know as well as I do,” you reply, “that I’ll be dead if I step one foot back inside there. You’re lying, Marlene. You and the rest of the Fireflies will want us killed for what happened today.”
“And who’s fault is that?” Marlene asks.
“Yours!” you exclaim. “For not listening to me. This is all your fault.”
A gun goes off, and Marlene stumbles, falling to her knees, her gun skittering across the ground when she loses her grip on it.
She’s holding her stomach, a blood stain expanding under her hands.
“Don’t,” she chokes out, looking at you with her face contorted in pain. “Don’t kill me. Let me go. Please.”
You and he both know what needs to be done.
“She ain’t safe with you alive,” he says, her attention moving to him.
“Please,” she pleads.
Another shot is fired, and Marlene’s lifeless body crumples to the ground.
“Come on,” you tell him, heading towards a nearby pickup, shouldering your rifle as you get the door open for him to set Ellie in the backseat, you disappearing for a minute and coming back to put gasoline canisters in the bed, along with a bag, telling him it had emergency rations and a first aid kit.
“Where will we go?” you ask when you get in the passenger seat, Joel already ready to drive.
“Wyoming,” he answers. “Tommy.”
Relief washes over your face.
“I’m happy to hear he’s alive,” you say softly.
A stone is in his stomach that he’ll have to tell you about Sarah.
“Yeah, that asshole’s still alive and kickin’,” he replies. “His wife scares the fuck outta me.”
“Wow, can’t believe someone married him.”
He chuckles.
“Me either—do you know how to get outta here?”
The truck’s started, Joel already driving.
“Yes!” you reply, directing him.
There’s not much talking as you make your way out of the city, both too nervous and expecting the worst. It feels like he can finally breathe once you’re on the highway heading toward Tommy’s.
Ellie’s still passed out, the pickup rumbling down the road.
“How long will she sleep for?” he asks, glancing at you.
“Oh, an hour or two,” you answer.
He nods. “We gotta do anythin’ for her?”
“Nope. Just have to wait for the drugs to wear off—she was given a cocktail that could knock out a horse.”
He frowns, nodding once.
“It’s sweet,” you reply, him seeing you with a soft smile on your lips.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“How much you care about her.”
His hands squeeze the steering wheel, the leather creaking.
“She’s a pain in the ass,” he grumbles.
That makes you laugh, and God, he’s missed that sound.
“Ellie apologizes, and I quote, ‘for being such a fucking pain in his ass,’” you giggle. “She also wanted to thank you for keeping her safe and not abandoning her.
His heart clenches up.
“She said those things?”
Your lips tip down, frowning.
“Yeah. Wanted me to tell you in case she didn’t make it.”
“Why’d you wanna save her?”
“It was the right thing to do. I fought for a way that she’d survive the operation, and I was outvoted—couldn’t let them murder her.”
After losing Sarah and thinking he lost you, too, Joel had erected walls in his mind to keep the debilitating grief he felt at bay, shoving down his emotions and not letting himself feel—couldn’t let himself feel, not if he wanted to live, which was already a struggle. This made him cold, emotionless, a husk of a man, having to keep finding something to fight for to keep going, only allowing his rage to come out in order to kill and do what was necessary to survive without a single care.
Tess would poke at the walls without meaning to, getting glimpses of his tenderness that she’d bat away and make him close back up.
Ellie made it her goal to break them down, him imagining her with a sledgehammer, laying waste to the concrete and steel, making him care, making him feel until she’d made a hole big enough to crawl inside and worm her way into his heart, the kid one of the most important people in his life now.
And then there’s you, coming out of nowhere and making the walls left standing crumble to dust simply by being here—the memories, the history, the love, igniting him, making him remember what it was like to feel again, focusing on the strongest emotion that has him feeling warmth deep down to his bones, contentedness, pure happiness, the feeling so strong he’s almost breathless.
You’re alive and with him, Ellie’s safe and sound, and he’s happy, actually happy, for the first time since everything went to hell.
And you care about Ellie, which just makes him love you even more, those butterflies in his stomach going wild.
“Thank you again for all you did,” he says.
“It’s no big deal.”
“You coulda died.”
“Would’ve been worth it.” You shrug.
He smiles.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
“Same. I have missed you every day since the last time I saw you.” Reaching your hand over, you touch his thigh, sadness on your face as you look at him. “Joel, I’m sorry about Sarah,” you say gently.
He sucks in a breath, avoiding your gaze.
“Yeah,” his voice is thick, his throat so tight it’s hard to speak, but you need to know what happened, Joel knowing how much you’d loved her, treating her as if she were your own. “It, uh, was my birthday when everything went down.”
Your hand goes to your mouth, gasping, “Joel, no.”
“Yeah.” He swallows hard. “Worst fuckin’ day of my life.” Tears were in his eyes. “Held her in my arms as she died—fuckin’ military shot her,” he spits out. “Tryin’ to contain everything they just started murderin’, took my baby girl from me,” he chokes on the words, a tear slipping down his face. “Lost her and thought I lost you, too, found your house in flames.” He wipes at the wetness in his eyes. “Fuckin’ hate remeberin’ that night—my entire world was taken from me.”
“Oh, Joel,” you whisper, moving across the bench seat to be next to him, Joel welcoming the hug you give him, wrapping your arm around his belly, and resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, and I’m just so fucking sad about Sarah,” you sniffle.
He reaches to press a hand against the back of your head.
“I know, baby,” he replies.
“Was Tommy with you?”
“Yeah. He kept me alive.”
“What’d you do?”
He lets out a long sigh.
“A lot of fucked up shit.”
“Haven’t we all?”
“I guess if you’re livin’, you’d have to.”
“Isn’t that so assbackwards? What were you doing before Ellie?”
“Boston—smuggling.”
“Oooh, a criminal, isn’t that sexy.” His hand moves to hold the steering wheel again, gulping. “Sorry,” you say quickly, sitting up. “It’s rude of me to flirt with you while you’re explaining all these horrible things. I don’t even know if you’re still single; for all I know, you could have a wife and kids back in Boston.”
“No wife and no kids—I can’t, not again.” He can’t help the somber tone of his voice.
He can tell you understand from the look on your face.
“I get it,” you reply. “I, uh, made sure I couldn’t have children. The world’s too fucked, and I didn’t want to risk anything. So, had a fellow doctor help me out.”
He’s sad remembering how when you were together, you’d wanted kids with him, at least two, you’d told him, and he’d been excited by the prospect, seeing how much you cared about Sarah and her adoring you. It was painful to think about, but he’d asked his daughter a week before his birthday over breakfast if she’d be okay if he married you. She’d been ecstatic and wanted to help him pick out the ring.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Don’t be,” you wave away his apology. “Better safe than sorry.”
There’s a question sitting on the tip of his tongue that he finally asks.
“Do I gotta worry about a partner huntin’ us down to get you back?”
You scoff.
“No. Painfully single. Anyone I need to worry about?”
“Not anymore,” he answers. “There was someone months ago—they didn’t make it.”
“Jesus, Joel,” you gasp. “You can’t catch a fucking break. I know life is a bitch, but my god, do I feel like it’s taking a special interest in making you miserable.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, that’s how it feels sometimes. God must be laughing at me.” He glances at you. “I think things are changin’ though after today. Finally think I’m gettin’ a goddamn break.”
You lean forward, knocking your knuckles on the dashboard.
“We don’t have wood, but I’m being safe—don’t want to jinx you.”
“Thanks for lookin’ out.” He smiles.
“Always.” You grin.
“Tell me what happened with you,” he says. “How’d I lose you?”
It’s something he’s wondered for twenty years, needing to know what happened to you.
“As you know, I was interning at the clinic to complete my residency—”
He did know that. You were fresh out of med school when you’d met, honestly surprising him that you let an old guy like him get your number.
“And I’d had your birthday off,” you continued. “When they called me in, I went, but something didn’t feel right about halfway, so I turned around to head back to your place. A tire went flat.”
“The spare was flat, too, wasn’t it?”
“Yes…”
“I told you I’d take care of it, but you wouldn’t let me.”
“I didn’t want to be a bother!”
“You weren’t no bother—you were my girlfriend, and it was my job to make sure you were safe. I shoulda just fuckin’ done it. Fuck.” He hits the steering wheel.
He felt like this was all his fault. So much could’ve been different if he’d done this one thing.
“Hey, hey.” You rub his arm. “This isn’t on you. I was the dumbass.”
He meets your eyes.
“Twenty years,” he says. “Fuckin’ lost you for twenty goddamn years because of a tire?”
He can’t fucking believe it.
You’re looking down, “Yeah,” you whisper.
He sighs loudly, squeezing your thigh.
“Sorry about gettin’ upset, it’s just, God, think of what our lives coulda been.”
“I’m sorry, Joel. I fucked up.”
“No, baby. You were busy becomin’ a doctor, already stretchin’ yourself thin datin’ me. I shoulda done more.”
“You did more than enough, and you had your own stuff to worry about—Sarah, your construction company. I’m an adult. I should’ve made sure my shit was taken care of.”
He sighs.
“You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
“I am.”
“What’d you do after gettin’ out of Austin?”
“Searched for you. Doctors were in need, so I traveled a lot in the early days offering aid and hoping I’d find you. Some years later, I got snatched up by the Fireflies, thinking maybe they had the right idea, eventually helping to try to make a vaccine. Was at the research facility for the last five years, but things were so fucked. I know I would’ve gotten out soon if I hadn't left today.”
“What do you wanna do now?”
He’s hoping you’ll say you want to stay with him, wanting you back.
“Um, well, seeing as I’m unattached, and you’re unattached, I thought I’d follow you around? Wherever you go, I’ll go,” you answer. “I’m not sure if you can tell, but I never got over you, Joel. Never. I thought I lost you, mourned what was and could’ve been, and I was never able to really be with anyone because I still loved you, and seeing you today, being with you, it’s evident I still love you. So, if you’ll have me, I wanna stay with you, I don’t want to be away from you ever again, and I know Ellie is important to you—I’ve known her less than a day, and she’s already pretty fucking important to me, too. She’s a good kid, and I’m glad you’ve got her. I’m just really fucking hoping you’d maybe want me around, too.”
His heart’s squeezing so tight it’s hard to breathe, so happy that you’d want to be with him again, but doubt rears its ugly head that this is all too good to be true, that you don’t know what you’re signing up for.
“I ain’t him,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“You’re not who?” you ask, confused.
“I ain’t the same man you fell in love with.”
“You think I don’t know you’ve changed? We killed together today. You’ve been referred to as a ‘grumpy asshole’ by someone who’s been around you for months. I’m not expecting you to be the man you were twenty years ago—we’ve been through literal hell. I know I sure as fuck am not the same.” You grab his thigh. “We can figure it out, get to know each other again. However, I think it’s safe to say with how easily we’ve fallen back into things, there isn’t much to worry about.” You softly smile. “We’re not the same people we were before this shit, but I think the love’s still there. At least, it is on my end. You’re fine, babe,” you reassure, rubbing over his jeans. “Don’t stress. We can make this work if you’re willing.”
He met your eyes, seeing the truth shining brightly in the depths and knowing without a doubt you meant what you were saying, wanting to kiss you so badly.
“I’m so fuckin’ willin’,” he says. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Impossible.” You smile. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
He knows you mean it, and it has his heart swelling, thinking maybe things are changing for the better, that he’s being given a second chance at life, and he’s not gonna waste it.
“Wanna know the moment I knew you loved me?” he asks, reminiscing about the past.
It’s how he’d known you were the one for him.
A curious expression is on your face, smiling at him.
“Tell me.”
“When you didn’t even bat an eye at bein’ fired from the clinic in town for datin’ me.”
“Oh my god, I wasn’t fired. I was forcibly relocated.”
He chuckles.
“If that’s what you wanna call it. You datin’ a patient made it to where the only clinic that’d take you was an hour and a half away in the city.”
“You make it sound like I was dating you while you were still my patient—you were in my care once, and by the end of the appointment, you’d seduced me.” He snorts. “I was never your doctor again, so it wasn’t unethical. I had to be forcibly relocated for breaking a dumb clinic-specific rule that made zero sense because Janis was jealous you were dating me and not her and reported me. Fucking, Janis,” you seethe.
“If it makes you feel any better, she’s probably dead now,” he says.
You chortle before covering your mouth in shock.
“That’s fucking dark, Joel.”
“You were thinkin’ it.”
“I mean, yeah, the odds aren’t very good. You wanna know something, though, about the whole me being forcibly relocated to the city?”
He met your eyes, seeing that smile he loved.
“What’s that?”
“It was worth it—you were worth it. I’d do it all over again and happily be forcibly relocated so I can date you.”
That has him feeling soft.
“Am I still worth it?” he asks, barely above a whisper.
“Twenty years might have come and gone. I’m not that young piece of ass I once was—“
He makes a face, cutting you off, “You were never a piece of ass to me,” he says seriously. “I loved you—still love you, never fuckin’ stopped. Before everything went to fuckin’ shit, I saw us havin’ a life together—was gonna ask you to move in that night, had a key ready to give you. I wanted to marry you, have kids, and spend the rest of our lives together because you were my everything.” His voice cracks when he speaks again, “You and Sarah, you both were my entire fuckin’ world.” He clears his throat to compose himself. “I loved you so fuckin’ much I spent years tryin’ to find you. Years. When there wasn’t any sign, I figured I lost you, too, and with you gone, my last shred of humanity went, too, because I no longer had anythin’ to live for. I loved you,” he croaks. “I still love you, and I’ll never stop until the day I die.”
Tears roll down your cheeks.
“I love you, too,” you say.
His arm moves around your shoulder to pull you into him, hugging you as best he can and kissing your hair.
“I’m happy to have you back—want you with me if you can accept that I’m fucked up.”
“We’re in the same boat. It’s crazy what an apocalypse does to people.”
You stay like that, him holding you against him while you both talk, reminiscing about before, sharing your favorite stories about Sarah, comfortable with each other, and talking so easily like no time had passed at all.
An hour goes by, Joel navigating the road as you chat.
“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” a voice says in the backseat. Ellie sits up, rubbing her eyes. “My head feels so fucking weird.”
“Hey, take it easy,” he says. “Drugs are still wearin’ off.”
“Welcome to the land of the living,” you say.
She must notice how you’re cuddled up next to him, seeing her eyes get big in the rearview mirror.
“Woah, you really didn’t need those kissing tips, Doc.”
You snort, and Joel’s curious about what she means.
“What’s she talkin’ about?” he asks.
“She’s being a smartass.”
He huffs out an amused breath.
“She’s always a smartass,” he replies.
You move to look over the seat at her.
“Just feeling woozy? Anything hurt?” you ask.
“Brain’s all foggy. Nothing hurts.” She touches her head, looking confused. “What happened? Did they do the procedure?”
“They didn’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “We—”
He interrupts you, “They found somebody else,” he says quickly, knowing Ellie won’t take what you did well. “There was another like you, and they chose them.”
He doesn’t want to meet your eyes because he knows you’re staring him down.
Ellie’s not buying it; he can see it on her face, making him grimace, and swallow hard, knowing he fucked up, shame roiling in his gut.
“So, Joel is a fucking liar,” you say, eyes still on him. “I can’t believe you—she deserves to know.”
“She ain’t gonna like it,” he says.
“You don’t know that.”
“What won’t I like?” Ellie pipes up. “What’s going on, guys? Be straight with me, Doc.”
Your attention moves to her.
“They were going to kill you.”
“Oh,” she says quietly. “I was okay with dying if it meant saving people's lives.”
“That’s very courageous, Ellie, and I understand you want to help, but they didn’t need to kill you. What was the point if they had and a cure couldn’t be made?”
Her eyebrows furrow.
“They still would’ve had a chance to try!” she says hotly. Joel knew she’d be mad; the kid was determined to be a martyr. “It could’ve worked, and you took away my shot to help do some good!”
“They were going to murder you,” you calmly reply.
“I was willing to die!”
“Well, I ain’t willin’ to lose you!” His voice rises.
“It wasn’t your choice, Joel! It was mine!”
“You don’t know what you’re sayin’, and you ain’t listen’ to her either!” He tilts his head towards you. “They coulda gotten what they needed without murderin’ you, but they didn’t care.” He looks at you. “Baby, tell her your plan if you would’ve had the chance.”
“We could’ve gone in,” you say, “and biopsied some of the infection—it intertwines with the brain, so just a little bit somewhere that wouldn’t do you any harm.”
“Well, why don’t we go back there and do that then?” she asks, sounding hopeful.
You sigh.
“Because the Fireflies were so deadset on taking your entire brain, they were willing to kill anyone who got in their way.”
“You killed them,” she breathes, eyes wide.
“We did.” You nod.
“What do I do now? Why am I here?” She’s upset. “Why am I immune, Doc? Are there others like me?”
“We’ve never come across anyone else immune—somehow, the infection has mutated in your body. It’s a new development, something we’ve never seen.”
“And the people who could’ve figured out what the fuck is going on with me are all dead? Great.” She falls back into her seat, pressing her hands to her face. “I needed it all to mean something.” Her words are muffled, looking up at you with wet eyes. “All of the people who’ve died for me. First, my friend Riley who was there when I was bitten—the two of us planning to die together, and my turn never coming. Then Tess and Sam. It needs to mean something. Their deaths can’t have been for nothing! Why do I get to live, and they don’t? What’s the point of me being immune if I can’t do something good with it?”
“Hey, Ellie.” You reach over the seat to touch her arm. “There’s still hope. If I can get access to the right equipment, I can do the biopsy. It might take some time, but I’m capable and have spent many years working to find a cure. There’s hope, kiddo. They didn’t die for nothing, you’re still here, and we’ll have the chance to see what we find.”
“You promise?” she sniffs.
“I promise.”
“Okay.”
“Is there something you want to say, Joel?” You look at him pointedly.
He sighs.
“Sorry for lyin’ to you, Ellie. It wasn’t right.”
Her face lights up.
“Oh, Doc’s got you whipped!” she laughs. “This is so fucking funny.”
“Ellie,” he grumbles, glaring at her in the mirror.
“You’re fucking forgiven, Joel, but I’m still gonna give you shit about being in love,” she sing-songs.
“Christ,” he sighs.
“It’s okay, babe,” you say, rubbing his arm. “We’ll just gross her out with excessive PDA.”
That has him perking up.
“Excessive?” he asks, looking at you and seeing your mischievous smile.
“Wait,” Ellie says. “What’s PDA?”
“Public displays of affection,” you both say simultaneously.
She makes a face.
“Like kissing?” she asks.
You look at her, grinning.
“Yes,” you answer. “And inappropriate touching.”
“Ew.” Ellie mock gags. “Disgusting. I don’t need to see that shit. Keep it to yourselves.”
“Sometimes when two people love each other very much, they can’t help—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sappy bullshit,” Ellie interrupts. “I’m good. Don’t look back here. I’m putting on actual clothes.”
About forty miles from Tommy’s, the truck breaks down on a mountain highway with no way to salvage it, having to walk the rest of the way, gathering your belongings for the half-day trek.
Ellie is a delightful conversationalist, telling you about the trip she and Joel made, poking jabs at him here and there that have him looking grumpy and you laughing.
The three of you are on high alert, even while talking, Joel and you gripping your rifles tight with the young girl between you as you walk for a few hours, finding an old abandoned farmhouse to stay in for the night when the sun begins to set.
It’s just your luck that there’s a stream running through the property, and though it’s too cold to fully bathe, you and Joel take the opportunity to wash up with a bar of soap pilfered from the home to get all of the blood and grime off your skin while Ellie explores the house.
There’s tension between you and Joel, and it’s thick, palpable, fueled by the shared looks and finding his eyes on your body more times than you can count; you’re just as obvious with your interest, checking him out at every opportunity, marveling at how his flannel hugs that chest of his, and his jeans making his ass look incredible, your fingers itching to touch him, and feel his warm skin.
To add fuel to the fire, he hasn’t kissed you yet.
Hours you’ve been back together, and not one single kiss to your lips, knowing he wants to, seeing his gaze lingering on your mouth when he talks to you, wondering to yourself what’s keeping him from going for it, and it was taking everything in you not to make the first move.
It has you desperate and aching, just wanting to feel his lips on yours and his arms around you once more, knowing it will be so fucking good, but in the back of your mind, you know his hesitance is Ellie. After what she said on the drive, he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, which was sweet of him, but it’s been twenty years, and you’re jonesing for just one kiss.
Inside the house, Joel goes about barricading all of the doors on the first floor with furniture, refusing your help, which leaves you to stand off to the side, getting flustered because the man’s putting on a damn show.
He pushes up his sleeves, allowing you to see his muscles flex as he works, seeing his strength while he manhandles a china cabinet, sinfully grunting, sweat beading on his skin. It has you all hot and bothered, thanking the powers that be, Ellie was in another room going through stuff so as not to see you openly gawking, knowing the girl would give you shit about it.
With the last door secure, he turns to you, wiping at his forehead with the back of his arm, a knowing smile on his lips when he asks, “Is there somethin’ on my face? You’ve been starin’ an awfully long time.”
You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Yeah, I was staring because you were being a damn tease.”
He matches your stance, crossing his arms and looking amused.
“I was movin’ furniture. How is that me bein’ a tease?”
“You were moving the furniture suggestively. You know exactly what you were doing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I was just makin’ sure we’re safe for the night.”
“Uh-huh, right. You’re a damn tease, Joel Miller.”
Three steps, and he’s in your space, your breath hitching when his big hands land on your hips, leaning his face close enough to your own that your noses almost touch.
You’d forgotten how much real estate his palms can take up, your skin tingling under their breadth, arousal burning in your belly.
“You think I was bein’ a tease?” he asks in a low rasp, his eyes moving between yours and your lips.
“Yes,” you breathe.
“Lemme show how much of a tease I can be, baby.”
Your eyes widen.
“Oh god.”
“You drippin’ for me? Thinkin’ about how it felt to have me inside? How I stretched you open? How you always felt me the next day?”
It feels like your skin is on fire, your body so hot, your heart pounding in your chest because now you are thinking about it, and it’s making you throb between your legs.
A whimper falls from your lips as he nudges your nose with his, mouths so close you can feel his breath.
“Bet your panties are drenched for me, baby. Bet you’d love me to slide my hand down them to touch your pretty little pussy, and feel just how wet you are.”
You’re pretty sure you’ll explode if he doesn’t do something, harshly whispering, “Fucking kiss me already, Joel!”
He smiles, chuckling.
“Got you all needy. Alright, I’ll kiss you.”
There’s a possibility your heart might jump out of your chest as he starts moving, knowing what’s about to happen.
“Fuck, I’m starving,” Ellie says as she enters the room. Joel steps away from you, and you cannot stop the strangled whine that comes from your throat. “You okay, Doc?”
Clearing your throat, you turn to face her, smiling.
“Just peachy.”
She seems to accept your answer, a book held in her hands.
“As I was saying,” Ellie starts. “I’m fucking starving. We got anything to eat?”
The three of you shared some jerky on the drive and nothing more, realizing you haven’t had an actual meal since that morning at the hospital, your stomach suddenly growling.
“Seems it’s dinner time,” Joel says. He looks at you, “You brought those rations, right?”
“I did,” you answer, walking to the rundown dining table that you’d plopped your bag onto, Joel’s backpack next to it. Rummaging through what you have, you say, “Looks like we’re having a variety of canned goods.”
“Got any peaches?” Ellie asks.
“Yep!” you answer, grabbing the can.
“Fuck yeah! I call dibs,” she replies, coming over to take it from you.
All of you sit at the table to eat, Joel across from you, Ellie at the head seat, everyone relatively quiet as you chow down, feeling his eyes on you and pretending like you don’t notice.
“What did you find?” you ask her.
She meets your gaze, setting down her fork to pick up the book.
“Something called ‘Jurassic Park,’” she says. “It’s got dinosaurs, which I thought was fucking cool.”
“The movies were really good,” you reply.
Her eyes get bigger.
“They made movies about this?” She holds it up.
“Yeah,” you answer. “Three. I’ve never read the book, though. Let me know how it is.”
“I’m gonna start it tonight after dinner. Did you ever see the movies, Joel?”
He doesn’t answer, too focused on you.
“Earth to Joel,” she says, leaning forward to wave her hand in front of his eyes, his head turning towards her quickly.
“Did you say somethin’?” he asks.
“Yeah.” She’s grinning, clearly amused. “You know, if you stare at her any harder, she might catch on fire.”
His eyebrows dip down.
“I wasn’t starin’,” he grumbles, his elbows on the table while he takes a bite, looking at his can.
“Jesus, Joel, I was not prepared for you being a lovesick fool. It’s honestly gross. Thank god you weren’t like this with Tess.”
His head snaps up as you tense, knowing she’s mentioned that name before.
“That’s enough, Ellie.” His tone’s severe.
You look at him, your eyebrows pinched together.
“Who’s Tess?” you ask.
Ellie’s eyes go big.
“Oh, shit,” she says. “I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t realize she didn’t know.”
“Who’s Tess?” you ask again.
“It’s alright, Ellie,” He sighs, long and loud, running a hand through his hair. He looks at you. “Tess was my old partner in Boston. She, uh, died on the trip to bring Ellie to the Fireflies.”
“Oh,” you reply, nodding. “The one you’d mentioned. I’m sorry she didn’t make it.”
“It’s just how these things go,” he says.
“Your girlfriend died…” you say slowly. “You’re allowed to be sad about it.”
He grimaces.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Well, I’m going to finish eating upstairs,” Ellie says, the chair scraping across the floor as she gets up quickly. “You two need to be alone.”
He looks at her.
“You don’t gotta do that,” he replies.
“No, no,” she says, grabbing her can and book. “I am so happy not to be a part of this.” She briskly walks away.
He sighs, pressing his hands to his face.
“What do you mean it wasn’t like that?” you ask. “If you were partners—clearly romantic…”
Meeting your gaze, he answers, “It wasn’t romantic. We cared about each other, we kept each other alive, and occasionally fucked, but there was nothing romantic about it. I didn’t feel that way about her, and can probably count on one hand how many times we even kissed. I didn’t love her. I couldn’t love her.”
You know the answer before you even ask the question, and still, it catches you by surprise.
“Why not?” you ask.
“Because she wasn’t you.”
“Joel,” you whisper.
“You were it for me. You were always it for me, and if I couldn’t have you, then I didn’t want anyone else.”
“It was the same for me,” you reply. “Felt cruel to try and be with someone when I could never love them, so I just didn’t.”
“Yeah. I was always upfront about what I was willin’ to give.”
“Gotta set expectations.” You nod. “Don’t want to hurt feelings.”
He lets out a long breath, looking away.
“Still got hurt anyway.”
“Honestly, if you told me not to fall in love with you, I think I’d just fall harder, so it makes sense.” You shrug. “You’re still a goddamn dreamboat of a man.”
His eyes meet yours again, crookedly smiling.
“Dreamboat?” he asks.
“God, yeah. Look at you. The grey is sexy, and my god, I think you have more muscles than when we were together.”
There’s a change in his gaze, seeing his eyes go darker.
“You wanna find out?” he asks.
“Um, yes, I would very much like to do a study and compare it to previous findings.”
He nods, pointing at your can.
“Finish eatin’.”
“But—”
“Dinner first,” he cuts you off. “Then you can check me out. Gonna need your energy.” He winks, and you gulp, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache as you do as he says, both of you finishing your food in silence.
Ellie’s upstairs, and the two of you are alone down here, anticipation welling up inside you because you know at some point, everything between you both will finally erupt, and you can tell it’s going to be explosive.
He leans back in his chair when he finishes, resting his hands behind his head, his eyes on yours, waiting for you, and smiling when you push your can away.
His voice is deeper, drawl more pronounced when he speaks. “I was gonna stay down here and keep watch for the night,” he rasps. “You’re more than welcome to rest upstairs if you’re tired.”
He says one thing, but those darkened eyes of his say another.
“We both know I’m staying with you.”
Smiling, he replies, “I hoped you would.”
“There’s no furniture, so we’ll have to get comfortable on the floor.”
“If I remember correctly, you quite enjoyed the floor.” He smirks.
You suck in a breath, memories of the two of you being so turned on by the time you got back to your house, you didn’t make it past the entryway, him fucking you on the rug.
Your skin is burning up, clearing your throat.
“I’ll grab us some pillows from upstairs,” you say, the chair making noise as you get up.
He nods, “Okay.”
Quickly you’re moving, taking the stairs two at a time, figuring out which room Ellie’s in with the door shut, glad she chose one on the other side of the house and managing to find four pillows in the other rooms, hugging them to your chest as you return to Joel.
He’s looking out the living room window, his body tense, taking in his profile, his attention shifting to you when he hears your footsteps.
The center of the living room is bare, the lone couch against the front door, the coffee table pushed against a wall, leaving the space between you and him empty, stopping in your tracks when he faces you.
His shoulders visibly relax, the two of you stuck in place, staring at each other with looks like you cannot believe the other is there and alive. Years of thinking you’d never see one another again, and now you’re in the same room, breathing the same air, feeling so relieved and happy.
Something shifts, both of you realizing you’re alone and don’t have to fear any interruptions, the energy igniting, eyes going dark with want—all of the hours you’ve spent together building up the tension for this very moment, it snapping with the pillows falling to the floor, unable to keep away from each other any longer, closing the distance in quick steps.
His hands cup your face when he reaches you, crashing his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, feeling his happiness, his joy, each press of his lips telling you he’s happy you’re alive and here with him. The passion has your fingers threading into his grey waves of hair for something to hold onto, gasping when he eagerly licks into your mouth, him groaning when his tongue slides along your own. Your blood is singing in your veins at how right it feels, how familiar it is, twenty years, and you still know how to kiss each other, finding your rhythm, not able to get enough, both so greedy you don’t stop until your lungs ache for oxygen, coming up for air with gasping breaths.
He’s kissing along your jaw, speaking into your skin, “I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby.”
“I missed you, too. Every goddamn day.”
Hands start wandering, needing to feel each other; he’s squeezing and touching anything he can; you’re working the buttons on his shirt and pushing it open to touch his warm skin, mapping out his muscles and the scars littered all over his torso that weren’t there before, wanting to kiss each and every one.
He’s sucking at your pulse point, palming your breast, his other hand grabbing a handful of your ass, your skin buzzing, arousal pooling in your belly.
“I love you,” he rasps as his lips meet yours again. “Never stopped lovin’ you,” he murmurs.
“I love you, too,” your words muffled, moaning when his hand finds its way between your legs, cupping your sex.
“I need you,” he says between kisses. “I’m so fuckin’ hard.” He grabs your hand to press it to his bulge, feeling him straining against his zipper, your cunt clenching at the reminder of just how big he is.
“Oh, god,” you moan. “I’ve missed your dick.”
“I’ve missed bein’ inside you. Wanna feel you again.”
As great as that sounds, your drenched panties indicating just how much you want it—there’s one small problem.
You pull back to see his eyes at half mast and glazed over in lust.
“We can’t fuck,” you say.
He frowns, eyebrows pinching together.
“Why not?” he asks.
“I love you, Joel. I love you a whole hell of a lot—would die for you, but you haven’t showered in days, you’re literally a walking UTI, and as much as I’d love to have that big dick inside me, I am not, risking an infection.” His frown goes deeper. “We can do other stuff, though!” you continue, and that gets his attention. “Hand stuff—no blow job until you’re clean,” you quickly add. He’s thinking it over, the wheels turning.
“I get it,” he finally responds. “You’re the doctor. You know what you’re talkin’ about. After a good scrub, you’d wanna?” he asks, looking hopeful.
“God, yes. I’m praying there’s someplace to wash when we get to Tommy’s.”
He smiles.
“They’ve got workin’ water in the houses—hot water. I can take a shower to get all nice and clean for you, and I’m sure he’ll set us up someplace with a bed.”
“Nobody better need us for a day or two, then,” you say, hooking your arms around his neck. “We won’t be leaving it.”
“Is that so?” He crookedly smiles.
“Oh, yeah. We’ve got time to make up for, and I want to feel you for days.”
He kisses your chin, lightly nibbling on it before trailing along your jaw to your neck.
“You gonna let me fuck you full of me? Fill you up?”
“Until I’m stuffed,” you moan, pussy pulsing at his words.
“Fuck,” Joel groans. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
“You love it, though.”
His head comes up, looking you in the eyes.
“Love you more,” he rasps, kissing you hard with his hands on your waist, thumbs playing with the waistband of your scrub pants. “When’s the last time you showered?” His question said into your lips.
“This morning.”
“Thank Christ.”
It’s disorienting how suddenly he pulls back, confusion on your face as he bends, roughly pulling your panties and pants down your legs.
“What are you doing, Joel?” you ask as the cool air hits your bare skin.
“I can’t fuck you, but you didn’t say anything about my mouth.”
He unties your shoes, sending them thudding across the floor.
“You’re gonna eat me out?” you gasp. “Right here.”
You have to hold onto his shoulders for balance as he gets your lower half undressed.
“Right fuckin’ here.”
Once you’re naked from the waist down, he’s groaning as he gets up, kissing you quickly before he moves the short distance to grab a pillow, letting it fall to the floor beside you when he returns, watching as he discards his shirt, and unbuckles his pants, getting them undone.
You can tell he has a plan, knowing exactly what he wants, and you’re happy to go along for the ride. A surprised sound leaves your mouth when he kisses you hard, all tongues and teeth, his body pressed to yours, his hand squeezing your bare ass, while the other moves down your front, moaning when blunt fingers slip through your folds.
“Fuck, you get so wet for me,” he says into your lips.
Your heart is thudding, pleasure radiating in your core as he pushes through your wetness, moaning when he circles your clit, unable to stop from canting your hips into his hand.
“Fuckin’ needy for me, baby.” He nips at your lip before kissing you hungrily, swallowing your soft sounds while your fingers grip his hair.
It’s been so long, and it feels just like you remember. Joel still knows how to play your body, gathering moisture on two fingertips to work against your bundle of nerves, applying the right pressure, circling it just how you liked, his tongue sliding along your own, heightening the arousal, building you up.
With your eyes closed, it feels like you’re back in that little house you had in Austin, him stopping by on his lunch break for a quickie, you both too horny to bother going to the bedroom.
“Wanna feel you come on my hand,” he murmurs.
You whine when he presses one thick finger into you, your hands gripping tighter in his grey waves, when the second one pushes in alongside it, stretching your walls and easing the ache of emptiness.
“Oh, fuck, Joel,” you moan. “It feels so good.”
He pumps his digits, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking them, it sounding obscene between your legs, him working them in and out, filling you over and over again. His thumb presses into your clit, rubbing it while his fingers work; every nerve in your body lit up, fire burning in your belly, knowing this was going to be quick.
Your tongues are tangling, lost in what he’s doing to you, how he’s making you feel, memories of the past, happiness for the future now that he’s here, all of it overwhelming you, rocketing you towards your release, and he knows your close, has always been able to tell.
His mouth separates from yours to speak, “Open your eyes, baby. Wanna see you come.”
You do as he says, seeing his so dark only a sliver of brown remain, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. Panting breaths filling the air, hearing his fingers, Joel taking up your vision, focusing on him, and only him, the world dropping away, everything else forgotten.
He crooks his fingers, and a second later, he’s hitting nirvana, a strangled moan pulled from your throat, your legs going wobbly at the white-hot jolt of pleasure, him having to hold you against him with his other arm to keep you standing.
“There it fuckin’ is,” he rasps. “Come for me—soak my fingers, baby.”
You tumble over the edge with a cry of his name, waves of your arousal spilling around his digits as you tense up, clenching down on him hard, your body alight in ecstasy.
“So good to me,” he groans. “My good fuckin’ girl.”
His mouth is back on yours, kissing you deeply as he works you through your orgasm, every muscle in your body relaxing, brain a pleasurable haze.
God, you’ve missed him. It’s been way too long since you’ve come that hard, and now that you’ve gotten one, you want more, need more.
He breaks the kiss, removing his fingers from you, and you miss them already.
He’s crookedly grinning, eyes bright.
“Do I still got it?” he asks cheekily.
You giggle, playfully slapping at his naked chest.
“Yes, you’ve still got it,” you reply. “Played me like a goddamn fiddle. Haven’t come like that since…” Your eyes squint while you think. “Well, fuck,” you say. “Haven’t come like that since you.”
His chest puffs up in pride, and it makes you snort.
He steals a kiss.
“Fuckin’ glad I didn’t forget how you like your pussy touched.”
“Obviously, it was important to your survival—gotta know how to shoot a gun and finger pussy.”
He chuckles, moving to look you in the eyes.
“Yeah. Lemme see if I remember how to eat it,” he husks, seeing the hunger in his gaze as he lewdly sucks you off his fingers with a groan making your cunt clench. His digits leave his mouth, “Taste even better than I remember. Can I eat your pussy?”
“Yeah,” you reply, nodding your head.
Thinking about it, you’re pretty sure the last person who gave you oral was Joel. Your body is thrumming in anticipation, feeling your arousal coating your inner thighs, excited because you know it will be good.
He crookedly smiles, tenderly kissing you before he gets onto the floor, his head on the pillow while he lays on his back.
This is where you get confused because you should be the one in that position, right?
Tapping on his chest, he says, “I need you to sit right here.”
That’s when it hits what he wants, and your eyes go wide.
“Joel, we are old. I’ll break your neck.”
He makes a face.
“Stop that. You’re not gonna break my neck. Just cause we’ve aged doesn’t mean you can’t sit on my face.”
“My knees would disagree.”
“That’s what the pillow’s for,” he smirks, patting it.
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say, moving to sit where he indicated.
Did you think this was a bad idea? Definitely, but the man is so damn eager that you can’t help but want to give it a go.
He’s looking up at you, his hands on your hips.
“Remember how I like it?” he asks.
“Basically suffocating between my thighs?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.
“Exactly,” he replies, slapping your ass and making you squeak.
“If you need to tap out, you better fucking do it, Joel.”
“Of course, baby. Now get up ‘ere. It’s been twenty years too long since I’ve tasted your pussy.”
“Well, aren’t you just rarin’ to go,” you tease.
“Givin’ me shit about how old I am, and now you’re makin’ fun of how I talk?” He smacks your ass again. “Bad girl. Stop hollerin’ down a well, darlin’, and ride my face—I’m rarin’ to eat your pretty little cunt.”
Your head falls back as you laugh, not at all surprised when hands grab onto your ass and start scooting you closer to his waiting mouth, Joel manhandling you into position.
“That was the most yeehaw you’ve ever sounded,” you giggle, your knees sinking into the cushiony pillow on either side of his head, appreciating that he thought to grab it.
You’re sitting up, hovering over his mouth, shivering when there’s a wet streak of lips pressing kisses along your inner thigh, savoring the scratch of his beard.
Fuck, he’s gonna have you coming quickly; you just know it with how your pussy is throbbing.
“You know I don’t fuckin’ talk like that,” he says below you, kissing your other thigh.
His hands are gripped tight on the globes of your ass, squeezing your plump flesh.
“No, you don—“ the word breaks into a moan as he pulls you down, breathing you in, the hot air ghosting over your sensitive flesh, sparks dancing in your center when he nudges your clit with his nose.
His voice is muffled, “Smell better than I remember,” he groans. “Gotta taste. Sit.”
He’s helping you lower down until you’re touching his skin, not satisfied until his face is fully buried in your sex. You scrabble for something to hold onto at the first swipe of his tongue, your fingers landing in his hair.
“Oh, fuck,” you moan.
One taste and he becomes ravenous, his loud groans vibrating against your heat, obscenely licking and sucking, his hands guiding you so he can slurp up every last drop of your arousal he can get, drinking down everything he can, relishing in the prickle of his facial hair.
It’s so much better than you ever could’ve imagined, the man feasting on you like a starving man, rocking your hips, his fingers digging into your ass, humming appreciatively as electricity ignites under your skin, body vibrating, Joel working you up.
You’re gasping his name, feeling your orgasm build. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, the pleasure causing your eyes to roll back in your head, moaning loudly, tightening your fingers in his grey waves.
“I’m so close,” you gasp. “Oh, fuck, Joel. It’s so good. You’re so fucking good. I’ve missed you.” You’re so drunk on what he’s doing, you’re rambling. “I’ve missed this. Don’t stop. Make me come.”
You feel him groaning, Joel doubling down and focusing on your bundle of nerves—sucking it, licking it, lips and tongue worshipping you until you’re cresting, body seizing up as euphoria floods your system with a gasp of his name.
His loud, long groan vibrates against your sex, his mouth moving to drink your release straight from the source, pushing his tongue inside of you as deep as possible, licking into you eagerly, wanting to get every little bit of you as he can.
Your body’s trembling, pussy fluttering, panting out breaths, feeling so fucking good as Joel helps you ride out your high.
You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this much pleasure, and it’s intoxicating. You’re used to getting yourself off with your hand when the need arises and have only had a few partners over the years—the sex always quick and to the point, an orgasm never guaranteed, and here was Joel making you come twice in less than an hour.
He’s spoiling you, you’re addicted, you never want him to leave.
Broad strokes of his tongue through your slippery folds has your back arching, surprised he’s still going, knowing it must be hard to breathe down there. Your body is scorching, feeling like you’re burning from the inside out as he licks every inch of you, reacquainting himself with your cunt.
He lifts you up a little, and you hear him take a big breath.
“Ride my tongue, baby.” His voice is rough, strained. “Use me to get yourself off.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m damn sure.” He smacks your ass. “Be a good girl and use me.”
You suck in a breath, pussy squeezing hard around nothing. He doesn’t let you reply, sticking his tongue out and pulling you down on top of it.
Your legs are closed around his head, his beard scratching against your thighs, hanging onto his hair for balance.
Grinding yourself against the flat of his tongue, he lets out a long broken moan, his grip on your ass tightening as you do as he asks, chasing your pleasure, using him, still so sensitive from your previous orgasms that the familiar heat was already growing in the base of your spine.
His mouth is hot and wet, working yourself up, pressing your clit hard against his muscle, moaning at the sparks of electricity shooting through you as you rubbed along it over and over again.
He’s groaning loudly beneath you, and you can tell he’s enjoying this just as much as you are, going faster, eyes squeezed shut, panting out moans. You know your skin will be tender from his beard, and you don’t care—this is worth it, your pleasure heightening, muscles in your belly beginning to tighten, Joel drowning in your pussy.
The sensations overtake you, everything coming together, falling over the edge with a cry of his name. Your legs are squeezing his head so tight as the wave of pleasure rolls through you, starting in your core and spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes.
Joel makes a strangled noise beneath you that has your eyes flying open, almost falling on your face as you quickly move off of him, ending up with your ass on his chest, looking down at him between your legs, your heart hammering in fear that you killed him—his eyes are closed, face completely lax, and glistening from your juices, his arms laying limply at his sides.
“Joel?” You pat his cheek. “I swear to god, Joel, if you die from suffocating in my pussy, I am bringing you back to life to kill you myself.”
“Not dead,” he slurs, eyes still closed.
“Thank god.” You rub your thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks, sliding your fingers into the hair over his ears, him humming contentedly. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Came so fuckin’ hard.”
Your eyes widen, looking behind you to find his softened cock out of his jeans and resting on his stomach, streaks of come painting his skin.
“Oh my god,” you breathe. Looking back at him, you ask in disbelief, “You got off from eating me out?”
“Yeah.” He smiles dreamily. “Fuckin’ love your pussy. Missed it so much.”
You snort, rubbing your finger down the bridge of his nose. With him so relaxed, he looks like your Joel from twenty years ago, and it makes your heart squeeze over all of the time you missed with him.
What would’ve been different if you’d been together when the world ended? Would Sarah be alive? Would the two of you have still survived all these years?
You let the questions disappear as quickly as they came because there’s no point in pondering them. What happened, happened. You’re just thankful that by some miracle you found him again, that you both are now determined to stick together and live whatever days you have left by each other's sides.
“Aren’t you a romantic.” You trace over his wet lips, which are surprisingly soft.
His hand comes up to grasp yours gently, his practically encompassing yours. Featherlight kisses are pressed to each of your knuckles and, finally, your palm. His eyes blink open, all heavy-lidded to look at you.
“Fuckin’ love you more,” he says softly.
You feel yourself melt under his tender gaze, seeing the truth in the dark depths of his eyes.
“I love you, too.”
“Are you guys done fucking?!” Ellie yells from upstairs.
Joel’s eyes go wide, cheeks turning red, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Give us a minute!” you reply.
“Okay!”
“Don’t look so embarrassed, Joel,” you say to him, tapping the tip of his nose. “It’s not the first time we’ve been caught, and I doubt it’ll be the last.”
He groans, pressing his hands to his face.
His words are muffled, “It’s just as embarrassin’ today as it was twenty fuckin’ years ago.”
“Hey, look on the bright side, babe. Ellie didn’t see anything. Remember how scarred Sarah was that one morning you forgot to lock the door? Thank god we were under the covers, but I thought she’d need therapy.”
“Don’t remind me,” he replies, looking at you again. “Taught her to knock, though.”
“Yeah, it did.”
There’s a lot of groaning as you both get up from the floor, knees not as young as they once were, Joel and you agreeing that maybe you guys should stick to fucking on furniture. After a quick search of the downstairs, you’re able to find a relatively clean towel for Joel to clean up with; you're already dressed. He hollers at Ellie that it’s safe to come down after his shirt is put back on and pants are righted.
She stomps down the stairs like she wants to make sure the two of you know she’s on her way, you and Joel standing by the dining table, passing a bottle of water between each other.
She covers her eyes with one hand when she enters the living room.
Joel huffs out an amused breath, shaking his head as he takes a drink when he sees her.
“There’s zero nudity, Ellie,” you reassure her. “It’s safe to look.”
She uncovers her eyes, “Can’t be too safe,” she says. “Last thing I want is to have to gauge my eyes out because I saw Joel’s old ass.” She makes a disgusted face, and you laugh, Joel snorting.
“What happened to spendin’ the evenin’ readin’ your new book?” Joel asks her.
“Ran out of water,” she answers, holding up her water bottle. “I’m fucking thirsty. Please tell me, one of you has extra.”
“Yes!” you respond, turning to get into your bag and grabbing a container of water. “Here you go, kiddo.”
She’s briskly walking over to take it, unscrewing it right away to take a few big gulps, sighing happily when she finishes.
“Fuck, that’s good,” she says, wiping at her mouth. Ellie looks between you both. “Thought I was gonna be stuck up there all night. So, based on how you were all over each other in the truck and the disgusting noises that I wish I could unhear, I’ll take it, Doc, and you are back together?” she asks Joel.
His ears are bright red, clearing his throat.
“That we are,” he answers, not meeting her eyes.
“Are you fucking blushing?” she teases.
“Ellie,” he grumbles, glaring at her.
“I’m just giving you shit, Joel. Hopefully, she can help pull that stick out of your ass.”
He sighs, and she laughs.
“I’m happy for you, ya big ol’ grump. Doc’s great! I see why you like her, and Jesus, I’m not into sappy romantic bullshit, but you guys have a great fucking story.”
“We really do,” you say, looking at him and finding his eyes are already on you.
“That we do,” he agrees, a soft smile on his lips, leaning in to kiss you.
“Oh, gross.” Ellie sounds disgusted, fake gagging. “I’m going back upstairs. I don’t wanna see this, and I definitely don’t wanna hear anything, so please keep it down. Yuck.” She doesn’t wait for a response, walking away.
You pull apart, looking at Joel.
“We’ve scarred another kid,” you laugh.
“I don’t think, too bad, though,” he chuckles.
“No, not too bad. Now, if she saw your old ass, she’d definitely need therapy.”
He frowns.
“My ass ain’t old.”
“I mean…” you pause, leaning to look behind him at it. “It’s still really nice. Like my god, you could bounce a quarter off it, and the way that I wanna touch it.” You straighten, meeting his eyes. “After you shower and I can get you naked, I am absolutely getting a closer look.”
He smirks, setting the water bottle down on the table, so he can pull you into his arms.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Oh, yeah.”
His head moves closer, hovering his lips over yours.
“When I can get you naked,” he rasps, “I’m spreadin’ you out on a bed and spendin’ hours between your legs, usin’ all that God gave me to make you come so many times you pass out.”
“Is that a promise?”
“You know it is, baby.” His lips meet yours, kissing the air from your lungs.
Part 1 - Part 3 - Series Masterlist - Masterlist
Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!
#pedro pascal#joel miller/reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller#tlou fanfiction#joel miller smut#September series#wheresarizona writes
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
okay the way the fandom draws hobie brown is such an interesting indication into the way subconscious racial stereotypes play into characterization and it's,,,it's just interesting.
now, i spend A Lot of time in this fandom. and something i've noticed a lot of is hobie brown being drawn HUGE. like, they're making mans into a TANK. and he's just,,,not that??
like yeah, he has broad shoulders, and he's tall, but that's literally just most any black teen boy let's be honest. if you look at his actual canonical character design, he is LANKY. and yet everyone is drawing him super buff. now at first i didn't think much of it--people like buff men, and fanartists are always gonna take some liberties (honestly, i love when they put their special little twists on the characters). but as i saw it more and more, it bothered me more and more and felt a lot more indicative of some underlying biases within the fandom.
hobie being mischaracterized and stereotyped isn't shocking or new, but that mischaracterization leaking into physical depictions of him is! not to get too deep into it, but throughout american history*, black men have not been able to protect their loved ones in any way other than physical thanks to slavery and horrid mistreatment within an inherently racist system. thus gave birth to the trope of the big, aggressive black man who solves his problems with his twists. and after that, the big aggressive black man who is actually a sweetheart on the inside, but just has raging anger issues (and probably an abusive father as well).
*im aware that movie!hobie is not american and that not the entire fandom is either, but seeing as a large chunk of it is, and are going to be viewing hobie through an american lense, i think this is an appropriate connection to make. also, african slavery was very much a thing outside of america as well. also ALSO, the rest of the worlds perception of black men is affected by american (and english) views just because of how huge the two countries are within the global landscape.
now, the reason this was even bothering me at all in the first place is because when i first watched the movie, the fact that hobie wasn't overly muscular was super novel to me. i was glad that we got to see a black male character who was strong without taking strength from others, loud without obnoxiously talking over others, violent without being aggressive, assertive without being framed as forgetting this place or naive about the world. in terms of personal experience, it pisses me just that bit more than the last time whenever i hear my father insist to my (very sensitive and emotional) brother that the proper way to deal with any and every problem was by fighting. i was glad my brother (severely lacking in good black male role models) got to see this cool guy, someone you're meant to look up to, who is strong without being ripped and punching all of his problems. that black masculinity is more than how well you can fight.
so, the way a lot of the fandom forces hobie into this box, this preconceived idea of what a black man (or boy, more like, but the erasure of childhood from black kids is a topic all its own) should be, just. sits wrong.
#i have these kind of analytical thoughts about fanart depictions concerning all of the main four btw#so tell me if you wanna see me ramble about why miles doesnt get this same treatment despite also being a black boy#or why pavitr is chronically de-buffed (its not *just* cause hes asian)#when az rambles#across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv#atsv#hobie brown#hobie brown analysis#atsv analysis#fandom analysis
100 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you do like a little one shot of nsfw Scout with short s/o? Your writing is so good 😭😭😭 the short headcannons got me feeling some sorta way
*cracks knuckles so hard that I spontaneously combust* ok
Scout X Reader: There Are No Good Guys In War (NSFW)
Jeremy hated halloween.
Every year, something incredibly supernatural would happen and it would never be within’ the Mercs’ favor. A guy with a pumpkin head, a floating eye, a centuries old lich that Soldier had once called his friend? He wondered what would occur now — now that the Gravel wars made their way to Japan. Scout had did very short history lessons of this country in high school. But overall the general population in America seemed to agree that Japanese people were somehow “bad.” And Japanese people themselves didn’t enjoy Americans either. He wondered if maybe the locals would kill him before a vengeful kami would find him and Team Fortress.
“I mean— Look at this place. Look, I can’t blame them. Everybody’s lookin’ at me. I’d be fuckin’ pissed too if somebody blew up my city.” Scout told you, as he impulsively scooped white rice into his mouth.
You looked out the window of the countryside restaurant. Watching people walk by. “They are suspicious of us. Like you said. Although to be honest I don’t think they want to hate you.” You said slowly.
“Why not? I’m literally a guy from the country they went to war with not that long ago.”
“Well, yes. But you didn’t give the direct orders, did you? You just want peace. Like the majority of civilians.” You respond. Your gaze fell upon the window again, contemplating his words.
Scout was contemplating your words too. A mild frown spread across his face as he put his empty bowl down. You could recognize that face anywhere from Scout— something was bugging him and he’s going to be ungodly amounts of stubborn about it: He’ll never tell you what the problem is.
The both you left an hour later. Walking out into the stratus clouds overhead. The trees you could vaguely recall having cherry blossoms were now bare and the rest of the trees lacked any shade of green. Scout looked greatly affected, as if his mood couldn’t get any worse from that conversation. He had expressed to you before having mild seasonal depression. He looked down at your short physique and tilted his head.
“Uh, so that bathhouse or whatevea, huh?”
“Yeah, just give me a minute. I forgot to turn in a contract.” You said, the australium contracker in your hands looked dull with so little sunlight. You knew Scout didn’t look too good, but you hesitated out of respect for his wishes. If he didn’t want to speak that was fine. “You remembered to hide that body right?”
“Huh? Yeah. I threw it in some trash bin or somethin.” Scout swayed his arms impatiently on the sidewalk. Shuffling his feet and getting distracted by every single thing that moved.
“Oh great.. They definitely won’t find it there.” You said, sarcastically. Although you were less than surprised. You were used to this incompetence by now.
Suddenly, you felt a lack of weight and you were being hauled into the air. Scout threw you over his shoulder and left your legs kicking in the air. You let out a shameful yelp that would give a Pomeranian a run for its money.
“Wh— Scout! God dammit I need t—“
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shuddup. Let’s go, nerd.” He placed oddly seductive empathsis on the last word. Although you considered yourselves as friends it was slowly beginning to seem otherwise. Treating you like a high school bully was a subtle hint. Scout was in denial and swore he had eyes for only Pauling. Your interactions begged to differ. You weren’t dumb.
You snarled at him, allowing yourself to be carried for a short distance. Part of you wanted to reach down and spank him on the rear because of how close you were. But Scout was jogging too fast. The bumpy ride didn’t even give you time to think. Let alone his heavy breathing.
You let yourself down from the taller man, trying to assess your surroundings. Only to find you were at the exact address listed on the magazine. You blinked for a second and took in the forested path that wasn’t there before. He shoved you forward with one hand to the bridge that led to the Onsen.
“Hey!” You exclaimed, holding your back. “You’re stronger than you look, that hurt!”
“You’re adorable, y’know that? You’re like a kitten if a kitten was like.. four inches.” He said, raising his hand to your height. “Yeah well, maybe don’t be so small. It’s like you’re begging me to throw you. FYI. Stop drinkin’ coffee and maybe you’ll be a more respectable height, doofus.”
“Jesus, Scout..” You mutter, trying to hold back the smile that nearly crept its way onto your face. He was a rather lovable asshole.
It only took a few minutes to find a private room. By a few minutes — that is — an hour of Scout trying and failing to speak fluent Japanese to the poor caretaker in front. But finally they got the memo and took you two to the outdoor bath, muttering something what you could only assume was derogatory towards Scouts’ behavior. You began to wonder if the reason he felt hated so much by them is because he has a general disregard for common decency.
You watched Scout take off his shirt. This was an unintentional strip tease for you. Watching him undo his belt was making you feel even more. You decided to look away, feeling a bit guilty.
“Hey uh.. Y/N.” He sighed. “Do you think i’m.. A bad person? Like, as in a bad guy?”
“Can you rephrase the question?” You tell him, sarcasm dripping off your tongue like venom. Rolling your eyes at his occasional lack of self awareness. You went about undoing your own work uniform.
“Hey, I mean it. Like, do you think i’m.. Bad, for being a mercenary? Beating the shit out of old men and whatnot?” He asks you. There is a hint of sadness in his voice that makes your heart break.
You sigh in defeat. This is not a conversation you wanted to have, but it was an important question you felt nonetheless. You couldn’t blame his innocence in this situation. It’s not like his Mom had a coherent answer to this either. You fumbled around in your brain for a nempathetic yet truthful answer.
“Scout, none of us are truly good guys.” You say, looking at yourself in the reflection of a puddle. “A mercenary is opportunistic, and takes jobs because he knows it will get him the money he so desperately needs.”
You continue on. “When the war happened, when you were a newborn I mean — they attacked each other because they were scared. Is it bold of me to assume that humans act crazy in general when they feel threatened? In your case it was poverty. You wanted your family to survive. Any other method felt hopeless. Not that these actions are justified but—“
“I enjoy beating the shit out of people, is the thing.” Scout got his clothes off while you weren’t looking. You could hear slight concern in his tone.
“Yeah well that’s probably because you went to school in a shitty atmosphere— what the FUCK?!”
You were about to tell him that in the grand scheme of things, you’d always adore him nonetheless. Even if he was a massive morally dubious prick. But your intimate philosophical conversation with him was cut short when you gazed upon his body. This was the first time you’ve seen him fully undressed.
..Let alone with a massive hard on.
“What?” He asked you. “You see this shit? This is all god’s handiwork, babey.” He assumed you were just admiring his figure and presented himself by flexing. “Lookatdis. Fuckin’ unstoppable titanium. Fifty pounds of concrete stacked atop a goddamn bedrock foundation.”
He was completely unaware of his throbbing dick. Your mouth began watering, and you looked towards the bath. It didn’t really occur to you until now that him holding you might’ve done this.
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” You ask him, taking a deep breath.
“I mean.. Two friends bathing isn’t romantic in any way, right?” He asked. “Right?”
“Right.” You lied. Oh lord, you were about to fuck a godamn trigger happy twink silly until he couldn’t walk.
A trigger happy twink that was loved nonetheless.
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
YANDERE COD HCS: Ghost (Simon Riley) Act 1
A/N:😅 This is my first time making a tumblr post, so if it’s kinda wonky, I’m sorry! Also, I’m still trying to set up my blog, but I don’t have my laptop atm, so that’s why my account looks so pathetic 💀.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (It might take me some time to chug through them though.) And also, this is part 1 of a 3 or 4 part series, so yeah. That’s all — I hope you enjoy! 😌
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ACT ONE which contains more of a description-introduction to the main characters, as well as hints of a growing interest in you from Ghost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TW: yandere behavior, staring, stalking, ghost himself is enough to be a tw, misogynistic behavior (fem reader), war, guns, slight blood mention I think, violence
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-Joining the military had always been your fate, you supposed. After all, your parents and siblings, even your grandparents, had a history in the armed forces. And you couldn’t deny the excitement you felt seeing your parents come home with medals or the news of another country’s civilians finally safe because of men and women in camouflage. Of course, you ended up in the military, ready to follow in your family’s footsteps while hopefully making your own history.
-In the beginning, it had all gone so well. You were nearly the top of your class, a feat not so easily accomplished by women in the corps as their male counterparts. There was certainly an air of respect from others towards you, although that’s not to say that there wasn’t jealousy or misogyny among your peers.
-Eventually, you were recruited for a more elite program consisting of task forces that conducted high stakes missions. And on the plane to your first deployment with your new task force, you couldn’t help but feel giddy and nervous.
-You were experienced, this being your fourth deployment. Yet, you were still nervous. It would be a challenge to grow accustomed to a new team, especially one that had already bonded together. You just hoped that they would make some room for you too.
-All you could do was hope and wait to see what would happen. If you put your best foot forward, maybe things would work out well quickly.
***
-For weeks, Price had been blabbering about a new addition to their team, “hand-picked by the high-ups.”
-Some of the men had been excited, already thinking about how to mess with the new guy. Soap and Gaz had been constantly making jokes and planning silly pranks in preparation for the mystery person’s arrival.
-And yet, they had all noticed how Price had been a bit sterner these past few days, not tolerating some of the men’s comments. Something was certainly up.
-And Ghost, knowing that a new addition would already stir the dynamics, was beginning to get pissed off. How could he be angry with someone he hadn’t yet met? Well, he figured that if Price of all people was acting different because of the new bastard, everything could easily go to shit. So, he stayed his old self. Even more bitter, even, as he anticipated what was to come.
-And, oh, were his suspicions wrong.
***
-Stepping into the vividly lit hall, you rubbed your eyes gently, a bit unready to meet your new crew for however long you were needed.
-Stopping in front of the door that would end all you had once known, you knocked and turned the handle. And you were trapped from then on.
***
-It was completely silent. Soap was nearly sitting on the edge of his seat, though he slouched backward in an attempt to look cool. Price sat at the front of the room, a few files he had just reviewed with the men in hand. Gaz sat too, albeit more professionally than Soap. König was silent as usual, but he seemed to be in a better mood than usual.
-It was Ghost who was “off” today. He was a silent, dark sky before the storm. Not restless, just ready.
-And so, when YOU walked in, beautiful (h/c) hair, knowing (e/c) eyes grazing over each man in the room, a well-fitting uniform revealing your form, he knew trouble would be the only thing he saw for a long time.
-He watched the others: Soap’s immediate cheeky grin that you brushed off, Gaz’s lifted eyebrows that you slightly mirrored as if to ask what?, König’s usual silence, and Price’s nod that you responded to with an official, “Hello, Captain.”
-He saw the look you gave him — a hint of shock (most likely at his mask) with a veil of nonchalance. Oh yes, you would be a problem.
-Price proceeded to introduce you to the team — (Code Name.) He spoke briefly about your experience before letting you say a few words about yourself.
-So, you did, and you found that most every had a good reaction to you — save for the one with the skull mask (you couldn’t tell if the one with the hood was receptive or not, but his body language was open, so you assumed that there was no issue.)
-But the skull guy, he was definitely annoyed with you. You’d bet that he’s just another sexist and that he’d make your life hell, but why put money on something you already knew you’d win?
-After that, Price explained the next mission and the meeting concluded with the promise of showing you around the facility so you could get settled in.
-You would be here for a while.
***
-Your first mission with the boys was tonight at 22:00 hours. It sure as hell would be an all-nighter as you had to enter a compound where suspected Russian drug dealers were providing massive amount of opium, coke, and heroin to the locals, as well as funding terrorism in the area.
-While strapping on your gear, you reminisced over the past few days.
-You and Soap had a steady relationship already. Not romantic, but there was plenty of friendly fire and friendly flirting respectively between you two. He was one of your favorites on the team, given his ability to take a joke, although his ability to take a hint could use a little work.
-Gaz was alright, although you two didn’t really talk much outside of training, working out, or drills. He was always ready to let you sit next him during meals, though, which was something you greatly appreciated.
-König was quiet, as usual (as you had been told), but was quite shy, as you had discovered. After teaming up with him during a drill, you discovered that he was actually just shy and apologized profusely after giving you several bruises on the ribs. A gentle giant, but a damn good fighter on top of that, you had a mutual respect for each other.
-And Price, of course, maintained a steady relationship with you, just as he did with all of his team members.
-Ghost, though, was just plain odd to you. Whenever you entered a room that he was in, it felt as though his eyes were pinned to your back. Whenever you talked, he looked at you, even if you were discussing something completely irrelevant with someone else. Whenever you worked out, he chose to be near you, even if there was plenty of other equipment.
-You just assumed that he was trying to make a point: I’m better. It felt like he was trying to scream it to you silently. No matter what you did, he could do it better. Your original suspicions were correct — he was an asshole.
-But, you couldn’t do anything about it, since he was your superior.
-Your thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on your door. Ghost opened it a moment later, wearing his usual combat gear and plastic mask. If he wasn’t so damn intimidating, you would have made fun of him trick-or-treating year round.
-“You’re supposed to wait until I open the door, you know,” you commented, finally grabbing your helmet and duffel bag.
-He was silent for a moment before speaking. “You were taking too long. We’re all already in the truck.”
-“Well, not all of us,” you responded, already slipping past him, leaving him behind in your room. Heavy footsteps followed you, his annoyance tapping out a rhythm. You smirked a bit, happy to have gained a point in your little game.
-You shook your head slightly, realizing you had to be serious. This was your first real chance to prove yourself to the team — the most important one you’d get.
-Soon enough, you and the boys were on the road, ready to complete the mission. And even then in the car, Ghost sat directly across from you, staring at you with his dark, shadowy eyes while you rode into the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Act 2 is In Progress, link will be here when done]
#yandere cod#yandere ghost#ghost cod#mw2#yandere mw2#ghost headcanons#ghost x reader#yandere ghost x reader#cod x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere#obsessive yandere
356 notes
·
View notes
Text
[TL] PYSCHOBREAK/Chapter 17
[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]
Rei: In actuality, during the battle to exterminate the delinquents, not a single one of them showed face. Therefore, UNDEAD won the DreFes by default.
That is how it was supposed to go. In the dream, I was able to identify one of the delinquents that was not originally there.
That boy was our culprit. In our dream, it was only possible to exist if we were close to our bodies.
Therefore, in order for him to rewrite history, he would need to be at least nearby.
He must have sensed we were trying to go back in time to do something, so he grew anxious and came to check on us. At that point I discovered who exactly it was and belayed him.
And that is why I did not immediately go on stage, as I was in the audience searching for the culprit. It wasn’t that I was unmotivated, really really.
Koga: Even in the real timeline you didn’t get on stage.
Kaoru: Right~, it was a once-in-a-lifetime debut live, how could you miss it? That’s what you told me since I used to skip class and stuff a lot.
Adonis: I agree. I felt like that too. I was uneasy and scared, I almost hated Sakuma-senpai for not showing up.
Rei: Eh? What are you all blaming me for everything lately!?
A-anyhow, once I had identified the culprit's face, the rest was quite simple. Once I had returned to the real timeline, all I had to do was find him.
Once we had done as such, he lost control of HELLSING and the bots stopped functioning, leading us to where we are now.
Adonis: So the culprit has been disposed of, and the situation has been fixed…?
Koga: That’s great ‘n all, but what about now? What about this current situation?
We’re in the middle of a live!? The culprit’s bound t’be pissed off, since we stopped his plan— it’ll be bad if HELLSING is stopped now!
Fans from all over the country have travelled here to see us perform!
We can’t stop jus’ ‘cos somethin’ came up!
Rei: Kukuku. You are surprisingly sharp, however on the other hand, you can be surprisingly dim-witted and silly too.
Koga: Haa!?
Rei: Look at them.
Koga: You mean HELLSING?
Rei: Umu. Let us become HELLSING’s representatives. I’m not exactly sure what representing our representatives entails but—
The public is unaware of the existence of these fakes, so to them, HELLSING is simple an offshoot of UNDEAD.
Let’s look at it from the public’s point of view. The real Kaoru-kun, Koga, Adonis-kun and I– us four, make up HELLSING.
Koga: …Yeah but, that’s not possible? Ya know, ‘cos you two wimpy senpais insist on doin’ those variety shows?
Kaoru: Ohh, don’t be silly. Variety shows are a lot of work, you know? Whilst it doesn’t tie directly into what we do on stage, it definitely helps.
There’s already a difference in ability between us, the two main attractions of UNDEAD, and you guys. So I guess it just widens the gap between us?
Don’t hold us back, ‘kay? ♪
Koga: HaA!? Bring it on playboy! Unlike you who slacks off all the time, I practise so hard everyday it could kill me!
Watch out! I’ll have you beggin’ for mercy, screamin’ out like “noooo～I’ll never be able to beat Koga-sama and Adonis-sama!”
Rock’n’roll…!
♪～♪～♪
Rei: Kukuku. You’re rather good at lighting a fire beneath Koga, Kaoru-kun.
Kaoru: I was only copying you～？
Adonis: Fufu. I’m happy. We’re starting to look like ourselves again.
If we have each other, we’ll be okay no matter what happens.
I believe that. Believe me, you can entrust everything to me.
Let us put our body and soul into our song and dance. That is what I can do, and that is my joy and happiness.
I won’t let those vampires, I won’t let anyone take the place where I belong from me!
♪～♪～♪
Kaoru: Woah, it’s rare to see Adonis-kun get this hyped up ♪
Rei: He’s always been a quiet but passionate boy.
Well then. We can’t let our kohai out shine us, can we? Let’s do our best too.
Kaoru: Yupyup. Don’t hurt your back though, old man ♪
I’m also pretty pissed at the culprit, so it’ll be a good stress reliever to sing and dance the best I can.
I have to let him know it’s impossible to replace any of us.
So today, I’ll show him how serious I can be.
♪～♪～♪
Rei: (Kukuku. Bravo, bravo. I was worried how things would go but— in the end, everything ended rather amicably, as usual.)
(That world is nothing more. A happy, propitious ending.)
(Ah, it’s so bright…The stage always has been. The stage is filled with a radiance that could burn me alive.)
(I cannot laugh at the culprit. I too, once averted my gaze from this brightness and turned my back on the stage.)
(However, I have no intention to do that now.)
(I will bask in its brilliancy. Even if it turns me to ash, this is my long-cherished ambition.)
(So what now? Are you watching, you foolish, pathetic criminal?)
(Back then, there was a pitiful adolescent Sakuma Rei who had lost all hope for the world.)
(―Aren’t you jealous of me ♪)
♪～♪～♪
Tonight, we feast! Breath in HELLSING, and let us into your soul—Us, UNDEAD, will grow ever stronger!
We are UNDEAD!
No matter if an army a million men strong attacks us, even if we are consumed by hellfire, UNDEAD will be reborn from those flames again and again! We will be resurrected!
Until my last breath, nay, beyond that! We will burn brightly for eternity, even in the depths of hell! Join us, and allow this enjoyable feast to begin!
If that is what you desire, this radical, immoral, sweet night will never end!
♪～♪～♪
[ ☆ ]
Chapter 16
Epilogue 1
#ensemble stars#enstars#translation#koga oogami#rei sakuma#adonis otogari#kaoru hakaze#undead climax
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
What are some of your rewrite ideas regarding religion in MCD regions, worship of Irene and her comrades, and of the relationship Irene herself has with others (the divine warriors, normal people, lords, etc).
Also just ideas of the Divine warriors in general? I find them very interesting
[picks up Kul'zak by the scruff of his neck and shakes him around like a chew toy]
I have a lot of reasons to throw hands with Jess on some very personal levels, but I want to throw hands with Jess on a creator v creator level over how bad the Divine Warriors are handled. We have exactly one picture of Kul'zak and one picture of Menphina. I started spelling her name with an extra n during my original rewrite and it's just a habit that I picked up because she matters so little that I didn't even notice. It's not like I was going to the wiki page to find information about her BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING THERE!!
The fact that Shad and Irene have so much detail given to them, but the others get JACK SHIT will never not piss me off! Enki and Esmund get a little more, but it's still next to nothing!! These are key characters in her lore, and yet we know next to nothing about most of them.
So, I did some tweaks in my first rewrite that color how I view this world overall, so let's jump into it, starting with the most neglected of the bunch, Menphina and Kul'zak.
I believe Menphina was the Divine Warrior of Tu'la, and the first of the catfolk (oh yeah I call Meif'wa catfolk). The kingdom of Havas is the central kingdom and home to the primary church of The Furious, a warmongering kingdom that once controlled the main city and primary port, but over the years the King sought more and more power in the name of his divine. Menphina encouraged fighting for survival, not for conquest. Her Fury was not in the name of power, but in the name of fighting off those who backed her into the corner.
Much of Menphina's history has become lost on her people. They remember her as a fierce warrior, not the scared and cornered animal she once was. They remember her as a romance-less woman who only reproduced to continue her bloodline, the royal family. They've forgotten that she expressed love for Irene and Shad. They've neglected the pain that would have caused as Irene erased Shad from the story.
Her best friend was Kul'zak. They were akin to siblings, spending hours with one another around a lake in the Tu'la country side. A willow tree with rose vines climbs around it, and after the defeat of Shad, she turned it into a subdimension of Irene's (like the sacred tree Aph and Garroth met under). Her people know she was friends with Kul'zak, but few know the nuances of said friendship. They don't know how much these two would do for one another.
Kul'zak never had a kingdom, never had a church, the closest he gets is a following. Many wanderers and traders consider him a high inspiration, especially ones from The Gal'ruk Islands. Ru'aun has forgotten that he was a wanderer, not a keeper. He kept quite a bit over his travels, but lots of the treasures he gathered were meant for Enki. His closeness to Enki was well documented, if you could read their encoded messages to one another.
Historians call them best friends. If they remember Kul'zak. He doesn't lose sleep over whether or not the rest of the world remembers him, just that those who matter do. His friends, his fellow warriors, and his fellow wanderers. Those are who matter.
Kul'zak was at least a little in love with all the warriors (except Menphina, they're childhood friends and frequently call one another siblings). This isn't well documented or well remembered due to his... Odd expressions of love. The Divine understood it and no one else could.
Also here's a Picrew I did using Brights Picrew Hell of Kul'zak because he's my fave Divine Warrior (I held back talking about him so I can talk about the others)
Kul'zak lost his eye in the fight against Shad, and Menphina was also badly wounded, though details of her exact injury are unknown. She fled to Tu'la before any of her friends could see the real damage.
I think Enki used to be a man full of life and love, happily helping the islands he called his home. He's greatly remembered and highly revered by these people, though the details of his personal life aren't as well known. It's known that he settled down with a woman, and spent the rest of his days fighting the Demon Warlock.
As time wore on he became weary of his position and held resentment for all the knowledge he feels is now a burden. His extensive library started to feel like a prison. The only solace he got was whenever Kul'zak would visit. One day Kul'zak came and he just knew. He could tell by looking at both of them that this was the last time they would see each other. It was the happiest Enki had been in his entire life.
Esmund was also born in Ru'aun, but Ru'aun is only known as the birthplace of Irene. And as a protector, he doesn't mind at all. Some theorize that Esmund could have resented Irene for living in her shadow, but that's exactly what he wants. He wants to use his power to protect and uplift those he holds dearest.
There's no dedicated following to Esmund, but he and Irene ensured that the guard system was a success, and he lives on in the heart of every foolish guard willing to throw their life away for a lord.
Random headcanon that I treat as canon because there's literally nothing to contradict me: It was Kul'zak who suggested that they send Shad to the Nether. He first thought of it after seeing how sad Menphina got every time Irene and Shad fought. He wanted to see her smile. So he went to Enki and the two developed their method with the help of Esmund and the wyverns to seal Shad away.
After sending Shad to the Nether, Irene tried to erase him from the story. Obviously she wasn't able to erase him completely, people still knew who he was, but she spun a narrative that he became power hungry and betrayed them. She made sure there was no record of Kul'zak coming up with the plan, and solely took any blame for it. Afterwards Irene became far more reclusive, and far less kind.
Not that she was hostile, but she responded to the plight of mortals with a general "Learn to take care of yourself" statement. She would only step in if absolutely necessary. This caused many to become disillusioned with her over time, often moving to other regions out of resentment. They expected her to bring their fallen relatives and friends back to life. She never did that after Shad left, not even to her own loved ones. Death seemed like a luxury to them.
And Shad. Man, I FUCKIN HATE THAT NAME. Listen we love renaming shit in this fandom for very understandable reasons, and I think we need to rename Shad more. Like, I don't object to the cast of MCD calling the Shadow King "Shad" as a way to shorten his name in conversation, I think that's fine! I really wish it was that! But noooo, Jess had to be clever and make that the name of the Divine Warrior even though it's a really dumb fucking name. It's not sinister, it's not intimidating, it's not even a good name. It's just Shad. It's a sad Chad.
I'm personally a big fan of calling him Araphel (so much so that I forgot his name was Shad when I first got back into MCD), and that's what his name is always going to be in my brain and my rewrites. Now that I've gotten that out of the way--
I think Araphel is a truly sad, pathetic, broken man. One who once had it all, but it wasn't enough. He needed more, he needed to have something else, he felt he was owed the romance he desired with Irene. And while she reciprocated, it felt inauthentic. As if he loved her more than she could ever love him. Araphel was doomed not by a desire for power, but a lust for someone he could never fully have. Lust turned into desperation, desperation turned into anger, anger to rage, and rage to resentment.
During his rageful state was when he was sealed away. It was during this rage to resentment that he created the Shadow Knights. He knew exactly what Irene and Esmund wanted, guards who would lay down their lives for lords, and lords who would lay down their lives for their people. That's why regardless of your previous attachment, if you're a guard assigned to a lord, your calling latches onto your lord. No exceptions. No excuses.
The thing Kul'zak, Esmund, Enki and Menphina were fighting for was to stop Irene and Araphel from fighting. In the end, they failed. Araphel made his Shadow Knights, and Irene had her lords. And one day, a reincarnation of both were born and sent on a collision course towards one another without any hope of stopping it. In the end, they could never stop finding, falling, and fighting.
#whooo that was long#and I still have more to say#theres another ask in my inbox#on this topic#y'all don't understand#how much I can say#text post#minecraft diaries#aphblr#aphverse#mcd headcanons#mcd#divine warriors#none of them have tags huh?#wont stop me#Kul'zak the Wanderer#Mephina the Fury#shad the destroyer#irene the matron#enki the keeper#esmund the protector#okay so it was just Menphina and Kul'zak#i wonder why#ask answered#queued post
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
some Augustine x Henri headcanons
errrm at some point there will be NSFW but dw there will be a warning <3 mentions of homophobia and how horrid it was for gay ppl to live at the time :( also these are general headcanons too
Feel free to discuss!!
I see a bunch of people complaining about this ship about it being cheating cheating but let's take period typical homophobia into consideration. What if Augustine simply married a woman and had a child to keep his sexual identity safe?
Now I don't think Augustine did this on a whim. Cause in my mind, his wife knows about Augustine's situation, and she may be queer as well.
I know this is far fetched but hey.
They both clarified that they could have relations with others, because the sole purpose of their fake marriage was to keep suspicion away from Augustine or from the both of them. Even if it meant having a child.
Now In the game Augustine never mentions his wife, only his son. And the toy he bought for him.
While he does have a photo of both of them, it's possible that he has it so no suspicion can be pointed at him for being a homosexual. (Because being a homo at their time was not a good one
like "no, he cannot be gay. Let's point the finger at someone else." Type of deal. He's an imposter to the straights lmaooo
While Henri isn't a married man, we think, he's just vulnerable to "accusations" of being a man kisser.
Augustine would hang out with Henri as much as possible. They might have been friends before the war. Dare i say even when they where children?
Honestly with how these guys act I think henri lived with his mother and Augustine loved his father. If frictional games won't give them a past, I fucking will!
"But woeful!" You cry, "why would Henri trick Augustine if they where lovers??" Ah, I believe it is a few simple things. Trust, and a basic set of skills that he knows Augustine has. In the beginning of the game, Augustine has managed to stay stealthy the entire time, even going as far to sneak up on germans that where shooting at Henri.
That's some husband material amirite?
so Henri had all the right to believe Augustine would return safely. But when that wasnt the case, you knew henri felt horrible and throwing up from nausea almost at any minute. Eating repulsed him, even.
Now we have to deal with the monster Henri (accidentally) created.
Now! Let's get into more romantic settings!
So these two would find any breaks they could have in a war just to hang out.
I believe these two where definitely in love with eachother just way to fucking scared to admit it.
Like?? It's possible to be thrown into jail, killed, tortured, etc. Just for having feelings for the same sex.
It was worse for other countries I bet.
Enough history lessons! I just get so hyperfixated on the history of WW1 and amnesia the bunker's setting in history.
However they trusted eachother very much, and they have confessed their love to eachother at some point. Which is why I am to believe that Augustine was so adamant that they'd survive the war together. Introduce Henri to his wife as his new lover.
But. Y'know. That never happened. But atleast it did in my upcoming au :]
Mitski songs for these mfs (especially I bet on losing dogs. Please it fits them so well)
These two would lovingly prank eachother. Alot. Pissing in your partners flask is a weird sign of affection but we know that Henri still loves him after that.
they would tease eachother a lot, others in the bunker would shrug it off as boys being boys. Bros being bros. Doing it w the homies yk
Henri calls Lambert lamby or lamb, and Augustine calls him clem! But only when they where in a private and safe area.
they would sneak kisses sooo often <3 they didn't want to get too affectionate in the bunker or they'd get caught. They'd give eachother those come-hither eyes, flirting with nothing but body language and looks they give eachother.
you know that one mlm cover of Mr sandman oh my god,,,
Oh yeah I headcanon that Augustine's a himbo. Like. Look at him. If henris a twink then Augustine is a hunk.
SMUT WARNING!!! LEAVE RN IF YOUR UNCOMFY 👿👿👿
Man these two make me go feral ok hold on.
Shenji's NSFW headcanons of these goobers made me go insane it made my mind go wild I???
Henri is definitely a crier in bed. Dacryphilia is making me write this. I'm sorry. But he's so whiny and vocal it drives both me and Augustine insane.
These two definitely are muscular. But c'mon. Henri's a twink through and through. Doesn't mean bro is weak cause reminder, he can carry a man 😭
Augustine is more built though, henri definitely stares when they are in the locker rooms changing. I'm drooling thinking about it. Augustine knows though.
Stop staring Henri! You twink! God,,,
These two sneak out at night, and go do some wild things.
i just searched that condoms where made in 1916. The military would be insane not to make use of these since condoms can carry a literal gallon of water. Anyways yea these two do it safe 👍
Henri is a solid 7 inches, but Augustine is a monstrous 10 inches. He laughed at Henri's reaction cause it was definitely a lot like his wife seeing it for the first time.
That thing is a fucking ass stretcher oh my god. Henri had to stay with the doctor for a bit cause he ached so hard after the first time. Augustine felt guilty.
Wall sex. Alot of wall sex at night. Messily making out as Augustine plowed that twink.
henri has to keep his mouth shut. Since he's so vocal and whiny teehee
Wanna know where Augustine gets those hickies? Yeah most of that is Henri biting into his neck to muffle himself. Henri does apology lick though, tbh Augustine doesn't mind at all.
But Augustine sure loves teasing Henri any time he can, and Henri lightly scolding him for making him moan so loud. Henri makes toe curling noises though??
If it was possible Augustine would listen to nothing but henri's filthy moans.
These two are very sweet to eachother though, but they do talk about getting. Rougher with eachother.
Dude at some point henri thought about being nothing but having his mouth as Augustine's cum dump. This came to reality so everyone's happy.
Dude Augustine would be such a dom. Maybe more of a soft dom?
Please the idea of Henri in some sort of shibari or bondage. Drools.
Augustine is lucky he gets to pound this twink.
Henri is lucky to get pounded BY this himbo.
But erm yeah
Thats all I can think of for these guys aughh pleaseeee can we talk about these guys more.
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
the whole 1975 thing pisses me off. people cant seem to comprehend that this isnt some black and white situation where its just homophobia because its so much more than that. i couldnt care less if he jacked off on stage, the problem is that he did this in a country thats incredibly queerphobic and because of that is incredibly strict on what bands can play here and what they can and cant do/say. We malaysians don't get alot od international bands as is, so bands like this and the strokes coming here of all places in our shit hole country is huge. but him saying and doing all that did this:
- cancelled the entire event because our government caught wind of it and shut it down after the first night when it was supposed to go on for 3
- probably made the rules and restrictions for bands to play here even tighter
- made other bands hesitant to play here
- maybe even tightened up the laws on queer people here in general, even more worse than they already are
- possibly put a lot of queer malaysians in general in danger because if the pigs suddenly decided to investigate the event further and question the organisers or people who attended and those people happened to be queer and they found out? theyre going straight to jail because that's how queer people are treated here by our government
yeah there are a good chunk of people here angry purely because of homophobia, that fact isnt something that can be denied or glossed over. but the most important thing here is the queer people that are gonna be put in danger. we're already consistently used as a political scape goat. but now we've finally started to take baby steps in the right direction of progress after finally electing the first pm in our history thats leftist (when in reality he's centrist at best) and now with how matty healy behaved and what he said, our governments fear of queer people have been confirmed and we might be in even more hot water. they've already discussed about making being queer a mental illness and this might give them the push to confirm everything.
what he did did nothing but do bad. we didnt need some white guy to tell us how oppressed we are, how queer people are ridiculed discriminated and abused, trust me buddy, we've lived here all our lives, we know, we dont need any white saviour telling us this.
people will scoff at countries like Malaysia because of how queerphobic it is and simply throw any empathy and kindness out the window, but people seem to forget that this queerphobia exists for a reason. the queerphobia here exists because WE exist, because WE QUEER MALAYSIANS EXIST. it doesn't just exist just because, they're hateful of us because we are here, they're hell bent on getting rid of us because we are here.
I've seen some people say "then just don't get international bands" why? why dont we get to have the opportunity to see the bands we like? why dont we get to have fun? what makes so inherintly lesser that we dont get to indulge in stuff like this like people from other countries do? we already are barred from being openly queer, is it so much to ask that we just want to have a good time by seeing bands we love? do we not deserve that just because people think our government and the shit heads here represent our entire country, acting like theres absolutely no queer communities here constantly fighting for our right to exist? is that why people think so lowly of us?
queer malaysians are now in danger and our progress have been set back 50 steps thanks to matty healys "activism". I understand that he did it in good faith, but it just came off as entitled, privileged and selfish, especially with how he handled it after the fact.
if you're here to argue or insult me on this post, dont bother, im blocking you. im not wasting my time.
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
before i head to bed—i absolutely agree. i think with max heavily involved for the rbr!driver au, lestappen would fit and then for the ferrari driver!au it strictly just charles. also a name would work perfectly to tell the difference! I sorta like Bones as a name (chosen name) but name is up for discussion! but me thinks having such an unique name would help, also because Bones sounds so like deathly and like somebody you'd associate with goth/emo group but then this happy wild card driver is bouncing around talking anybody's ear off is HYSTERICAL to me.
Also LESTAPPEN RIVALRY YES PLEAAAASE.
(imma stick with Bones for the time being as the name): Like Bones genuinely is confused when Max is so upset and pissy that she got with charles because yeah they hate each other but bones is like ‘?? we’re not fucking?? why are you so pissed???’ But Bones being a little shit i would die for. Bones just happily lets him take a picture and send it to charles and is actually excited to see the outcome because hello, two of the most popular drivers are like fighting over her. she’s allowed a bit of an inflated ego with that. she’s so happy-go-lucky, sunshine, always sweet & caring (unless charles but even still) to the public so nobody in a million years would expect her to be a little shit and sorts fueling a fire like this. especially when charles texts her asking what the fuck are those hickies on her thighs and demanding answers from max because ‘thought you guys weren’t fucking?? what changed??’ and probably making it his mission to not only get back at max but make sure bones remembers who they fucked first
and hell, to really add fuel, she’d probably wear a skirt with knee highs that are just a bit too big on her so she’s gotta have garter belts on to keep them up but part of the hickies are showing and she’s just “lalala” and maybe some people are bold enough to ask but she shrugs it off like “nothing! don’t worry bout silly clumsy me!” but she knows max and charles knows exactly what they are.
this fire is rapidly spreading between the two and bones just somehow in the middle but also on the sidelines roasting marshmallows straight vibing because they’re secretly a little shit who likes chaos and like maybe i’ve already thought of bones history which involves a really shitty ex and this is the first time they’ve felt wanted by anybody, let alone two guys like max and charles soooo.
if you’ll allow, i can ramble bout bones history tomorrow >:) also when i get around to forcing myself to update my blog (the thought tires me out LMAO) and really flesh this out, would you be down to be tagged in the post since we’ve been rambling nonstop bout it? 👀👀-🐈⬛
omg hi sorry i didnt answer this last night i finished baking at 11 pm n passed out 🥺
im not a big fan of the nickname bones bc i have watched the show bones a million times and it makes me think of decaying bodies so .. tbh its a turn off.
u can tell me ur idea ab her histroy but i have an idea ab it too but its opposite kinda ! i kinda want her to be someone who never committed to anyone, she fully committed to racing and never dated because media already spoke so much about her love life. idk what other countries are like but i can totally imagine her being american and it’s prom season so all her friends back home are getting asked to the dance, going dress shopping, and she’s on the other side of the world in a racing championship. interviewers keep asking her if she’s sad about missing out on prom and all crossing the stage for her high school graduation, and she’s just like “well considering i’m currently first in a fight for the f3 championship, i’d certainly rather be here fighting for this trophy than a prom queen sash.” very independent and always shoots down questions about her love life and is like “i don’t hear you asking anyone else that, why are you asking me?” or completely ignoring them until someone’s like “hey they asked you a question.” she just shrugs and says, “i’ve already said i’m not going to answer questions about my personal life. ask me about the race, or the car.”
maybe was fwb with a driver from another team in the past or even a past teammate so it’s kind of a comfortable dynamic to fall into with charles and max. she loves the chaos. she def loved pitting them against each other before the whole hickey fiasco, but when she fucks max and he leaves those hickeys on her thighs, it only gets worse. i can imagine if they’re in the same hotel charles could come banging on max’s door.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay I hate bringing this up but I just couldn't help but giggle at anti SNS Sasuke stans for thinking that stanning SNS is 'western'. Lol. The entire fandom's collective worldview is plain "western".
And they obviously consider themselves the representatives of this hallowed ground which is 'not western'.
By which I imagine they are implying that they aren't western. I know some of them are Asian.
Okay. But. See.
I see and recognise the tempting opportunity to indulge in stereotypes. I have done it myself in the past. On the other hand, it can also get too reductive, which it very often is.
But for the sake of the argument, I want to indulge you. Even if I believed the bifurcation you operate on, ie, western vs non western, well, I still don't know where you stand in the middle of all this. I am really stumped. Because your takes are neither Western nor Asian. Your extent of relevant knowledge of both Western and Asian elements is piss poor and embarrassingly ignorant. I don't know which continent it is from. Where do you even live? Lol. Is there a nation for delusions?
Loads and loads of Asian and specifically Japanese people see and recognise SNS. Where have you been? Lol.
I mean, what a weird flex. Lol.
Oh yeah, I am surely going to trust the judgment of someone who thinks homosexuality doesn't exist in Japan.
Call me elitist but okay, my fault for thinking one would at least skim google search before they righteously STATE something factually incorrect, entirely stupid and embarrasingly wrong about something as important as 'a country's centuries' worth of socio cultural sexual history' on a global platform where they are in a virtual debate of sorts with another person on the internet, who can prove them wrong with the littlest effort.
I find it a little funny that they so superbly fail to realize that there are other people on the internet. And a lot of them DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, operate on such truth nuggets such as Kishimoto, an ace storyteller and artist, draws so much sexually risqué art with Sasuke and Naruto to show that they are brothers. Lol. Or that it would be crazyyy to think that someone from Kishi's generation would know about a man loving another man because homosexuality was apparently invented in the nineties.
48 notes
·
View notes
Note
Is ok for me to vent here?
I’m frustrated, Israel has the right to exist as much as other fucked up countries like the USA. You can hate BiBi as much as you can hate Biden or even more I don’t give a fuck. Israel has the right to exist and the right to defend itself. Hamas is a fucking terrorist group stop supporting a fucking terrorist group. Members of the LBGTQ community that support Hamas as the dumbest people ever. Even dumber then flat earthers. Sorry for the vent I’m just pissed
Israel is the only country we seem to have this "debate" about, the only country where there's a sizable movement to not just dissolve its government and end its statehood, you could say that is true of Taiwan or North Korea as well, but to depopulate it of its citizens "by any means" is a phrase that gets thrown around.
people can feel however they want about 1948, or the whole Zionist project from the 1880s through to 1947, but it happened and they're not Dr. Who they can't go back and change history, you can only go forward.
Hamas' attack didn't free Palestine, in fact it made Israel more resolved. I was just reading about how 3,000 Haredi who are traditionally anti-zionist/non-zionist signed up to the IDF when they normally don't serve at all. Think about that for a second a traditionally non-Zionist Jewish community signing up for the IDF on mass, real win there guys. Indeed there are lots of stories of suffering an heroism from Israel's Arabs not just Druze traditional allies of the state but Muslims as well, I think of the bus driver who still can't sleep because he spend hours under the bodies of the old folks he was driving to the beach that day, every time he lays down he feels like he's there again. Or the Bedouin cabby who packed people into his van at the music festival. A popular Israeli Palestinian blogger put out a long post about his own complicated history with his identity and how for years he's been saying "Palestinian Israeli" but was now going to switch it to Israeli Palestinian, because Hamas showed him he has no other home than Israel. Sorry to ramble but my point is these attacks have brought everyone even groups normally ambivalent or even hostile to the Zionist project into the Israeli community. So kind of an own goal if you want to "free Palestine" to get Palestinians in Israel to feel more Israeli than ever.
It's been a long hard 2 weeks to be Jewish um yeah lots of pain lots of frustration. not much to say past that, Israel is a country its going to keep being a country for the rest of all our lives, no one who's really pro-Palestinian (rather than just antisemitic) should want Hamas in charge of Gaza they're violent against their own people, they steal from them, no good, and a "us or them" struggle between the Israelis and Palestinians.. no pro-Palestinian should want that, there are 2 million Palestinians in Israel, citizens of Israel, many of whom were murdered on Oct 7, shot down, they murdered a woman in a Hijab, does any one think they thought she was a Jew? whats more if you really make it "one or the other" just thats not a pro-Palestinian point of view, just gets more people killed.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Inside, outside
Pairings: 10k x reader, Addy Carver x sister reader
Warnings: Swearing, child death
Chapter: 4.10
You shake your head, watching as Warren storms on ahead, not stopping to take a much needed break. She was leading you towards something called the black rainbow; not that any of you knew what it meant, but she had currently led you into a large open field in the middle of the country.
Rolling your eyes, you rub at your forehead, feeling a headache come on, most likely caused by a lack of food, water, and sleep or by Murphy continuing to moan. You walk forward to get further away from his irritating voice and unintentionally listen in on 10k and Sarge’s conversation.
“What was it like being in the Marines?”
“I'm still a Marine,” Sarge beams at him. “I reckon I’ll die as one. They were my family. After they rescued me from my old family, they gave me something to live for other than myself. Still does. What about you? What keeps you going, ten thousand?”
“My girl.”
A woozy feeling builds up in your stomach, and your face flushes red. You know 10k loves you, but he doesn’t talk much openly to others about his feelings, so hearing how much he says that causes your heart to speed up.
“Getting her to Newmerica is the goal. At least there we can find a new home and start fresh.”
No missions, no saving the world, no Murphy. No matter how hard he tried, 10k couldn’t let go of the things you'd been through together.
“You know that’s back that way, right?” Sarge looks at him confused.
“Yeah, but if history has taught me anything, it is that following Warren is our safest bet, and it will get us where we need to be.”
“Disgusting, isn’t it?”
You jump in surprise when Murphy appears behind you, scowling. Knowing he’s talking about what 10k just said, you flip him off and say, “Shut up, Alvin.”
He scoffs, “Alvin? Who pissed in the cornflakes this morning?”
Doc puts his arm around your shoulder and says, “Don’t listen to him; he’s old and jealous of you young kids in love.”
“Pfft love, that’s what they're calling it.”
Usually you don’t rise to Murphy’s teasing, and by the look on Doc’s face, you know you shouldn’t, but you snap back at him. “You wouldn’t recognise it because you’ve never been in it.”
“Of course I have,” Murphy says, clearing his throat. “Trust me, you’ll fall in and out of it quicker than I ever did.”
Doc quickly changes the subject to avoid saying anything else. The last few days, Murphy had been more belligerent than usual, taking every opportunity he could to cause an argument. You didn’t know what his issue was, but the way he kept staring at Warren suggests it somehow related to her.
—
The first building you come across is one that you’d been in previously, years before, and returning brought back memories of Red and 5K.
Tellers lab.
The air feels tense as you walk along the outside of the building, the silence only broken by Murphy asking the question you were too afraid to ask. “Warren? Why the hell did you bring us back here?”
She hesitates before answering, “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.”
The grounds of the building are scattered with dead bodies, and Sarge looks around confused. “What in the holy heck happened here?”
“We tried to help some people, but it didn’t work out.” You say, biting on your lower lip, remembering all the people who died. You turn around and see something moving fast—“Z incoming!”
The last time you were at the lab, someone had put metal helmets on Zs, making them merciless proof. 10k manages to trip the Z up with a metal chain, causing Doc to let out a loud laugh.
“Stop playing with that damn thing!” Warren orders before tossing a piece of metal in the opposite direction for the Z to chase. “All right, everybody suits up.”
—
Wearing a suit that was on a dead body moments before felt disgusting. Thinking about it makes your skin crawl.
You look up, feeling a hand on your back, to see 10k giving you a sad smile and asking, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”
“No,” he chuckled softly, pulling you to your feet. “But I will be once we leave this place.
“Good because I was lying.”
You follow the others and head inside the lab, which is now covered in dampness and has what looks like a fungus growing on the walls. Warren claimed she was searching for batteries, but you didn’t believe her.
The further into the building you went, the darker it got, with the only light coming from your torches, which is how you, 10k, and Warren got separated from the others. You watch bewildered as Warren automatically knows how to find the secret rooms and codes to enter them. Well, most of them.
Warren, try shaking her shoulder. “Warren!”
She looks hypnotized while trying to figure out different padlock codes for what looks like a metallic freezer with lots of chains and locks around it. Warren mumbles to herself, managing to get some of them off.
You and 10k share a look of concern when a rattling sound comes from outside. Seconds later, a Z burst through the door; it knocked you to the ground and pinned you against the wall.
“Warren!”
She suddenly grabs a chain and smacks the Z on the head with it, saying, “I show you mercy.” She drops the chain to the ground and then looks at the 10k, confused. “What are you doing here?”
“We were following you.”
She looks around the room and asks, “What am I doing here?”
“You were trying to get into that,” you say, getting to your feet and pointing to the metallic object. “I think you were having one of your visions.”
The lights in the room start to flicker as a beeping noise goes off. 10k watches as she struggles to remove the chains. “You knew the combination to all the other locks. You're on the last one.”
“I don’t remember,” Warren walks up to 10k. “Hit me.”
“What?”
“Hit me. Sometimes fighting triggers the dream. Hit me.”
You look between them and say, “I’ll do it.”
“No offense, but I think our boy here is a little bit stronger than you.”
“I don’t know. I think you should let Astra do it.”
“Come on!” Warren rolls her eyes. “Don’t sissy out, just hit me.”
10K very lightly hits her cheek; his cheeks flush with embarrassment at how weak the slap was. It was obvious he didn’t want to hurt her.
“Hit me.” 10k goes to move his hand again, but Warren catches his wrist, squeezing it tightly. “Harder!”
You push 10k aside and punch Warren in the face, knocking her to the ground. You both look down. “Shit, I think that might leave a bruise.”
10K bites on his lip, looking down at her then back at you, “Any unresolved issues I need to know about?”
You shake your head, trying to laugh it off. In truth, you adored Warren and had a lot of respect for her, but all the rage you felt when she wanted to leave 10k behind when he fell out of the boat or hurt him to get information about Murphy came flooding back at once.
Minutes later, Warren wakes up, knowing the code, and unlocks the final padlock. She opens the door and puts her hand through a thick layer of slime and goo, pulling out three metal objects, including a transmitter.
She looks back at you and says, “Let’s go.”
—
You meet up with the others, who are gathered around a test tube that has a little boy trapped inside it. His body is frozen inside, but his mind is still alive. Sarge tried to split the power from a battery so that the power for the tank stays on, keeping the little boy alive, and so Warren has enough to get a radio working.
Amazingly, it works, and you managed to make contact with Citizen Z, who had information on the black rainbow. Hearing his voice was good; you always worried something bad had happened to him whenever he went silent for too long.
“Kaya’s been drilling down into deep storage looking for anything black and rainbow.”
“Did you find anything?”
“We had intruders here, zona soldiers. They copied all the black-and-white files, then wiped the servers. They also used a secure NSA hardline to spoof into the NORAD computers. They logged onto the administrator account for a defunct weapons program. Guess what it was called.”
“Black rainbow.”
“What is a black rainbow?” Warren asks.
“You won’t believe…”
The radio cuts out before you can hear Kaya’s answer. The only way to get the radio to work again is by turning the tank with the kid in it off, which means turning off his life support. Your group starts to debate what to do; Sarge wants to somehow save the boy, while Murphy wants to show him mercy. It was a difficult decision to make, but the kid was already dead; his brain was only functioning because of a machine, which was incredibly cruel considering he would never move, talk, or be remotely human again.
Warren makes the tough call and orders Sarge to divert the power to the radio, but when she’s unable to do it, you step in. You put your arm around Sarge and said, “She can’t do this.”
Warren nods and takes over, granting the young child mercy before turning his power off. When the power is diverted back to the radio and you are able to make contact with Citizen Z again, you learn that Black Rainbow is a biological weapon of mass destruction.
And the only way to stop it from being blasted was by getting the president of the United States' thumbprint and resetting the missile at the launch site.
Shit, nothing is ever going to be easy.
—
The car ride towards Washington is tense; everyone is still reeling from what happened at the lab and the information you’d found out about Black Rainbow. You sit in the back of the truck in between Doc and 10k, trying not to fall asleep. Your fingers play with 10k’s hair as he sleeps with his head resting on your lap.
While driving, Sarge motions to the sky and says, “It’s a beautiful sunset.”
“It’s only beautiful if someone is there to watch it,” Warren says bluntly.
“That’s not true,” you say quietly. “The world is still full of beautiful things we can’t see; it’s just a little harder to notice now.”
#z nation#inside outisde#10k x reader#10k x you#z nation 10k#z nation fanfiction#z nation fandom#10k z nation#z nation x reader#z nation fanfic#z nation warren#sarge z nation#murphy z nation#doc z nation#10k/reader#10k/you
51 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm really getting tired of being called a settler. By the government, by my profs, by my fellow students and young adults. I'm going potty. I'm 100% in favour of much of the TRC and Indigenous rights work going on right now, but I don't think calling current generations of non Indigenous people Settlers constantly is going to help. If anything, it just pisses people off. My family came to Canada in the early 1900s and the 1950s, as immigrants fleeing dangerous situations! I was born and raised in my city, I love my city and would happily live here my whole life. I'm NOT a settler. But if I every voiced my discomfort I'd be persecuted to no end. I'm so very done with it all.
Before I finished reading this ask I literally was like “ah man you must be Canadian” lol. And yeah I know a little about the annoying ass self flagellating that a lot of Canadians have about their country’s history.
The calling people settlers thing seems intentionally done to ruffle feathers or profess ancestral guilt and draw racial lines. It comes across as a distraction from actually addressing any real current issues that might exist for indigenous peoples today.
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
History of the World Parts 1 and 2 quotes?
Aya: Louis! What the fuck? You peed on my son’s feet?
Everyone: *Gasps*
Louis: Mother Aya, may I explain?
Aya: No, you may not! I did not not have sex and give birth in a dirty-ass manger for you to urinate on the feet on the son of God!
Louis: She thinks her son’s God? The mother’s definitely Jewish. *Laughs* Okay!
Aya: I want you to get on your knees, and wash his feet!
Louis: … I don’t know.
Alix: *Snickers* You raggedy bitch. *Hands Louis a rag*
Louis: You want me to wash the pee-pee off of his feet?
Aya: Yes!
Louis: That’s what you would like? I just wanna confirm, so we’re on the same page here.
Aya: Yes!
Louis: … Nino, what do you think?
Nino: I mean, someone pissed on my fuckin’ sandals, they wipin’ that shit off.
Louis: Okay, well, that’s a betrayal. I mean, the man lays hands on lepers! And you worried about a little pee-pee on his feet? You’re really- You’re gonna make me do this?
Kim: Do it already!
Nathaniel: *Points to his feet*
Louis: *Starts to get on his knees* It’s just feet, they’re gross! Do you guys like- Anybody here like feet? Whatever the opposite of a foot fetish is what I have!… Hey, Nath… I have sinned. I’ve sinned… I’m a sinner.
Nathaniel: Yep.
Louis: I’m repenting… I don’t wanna wash your feet…
Nathaniel: Rise, my son.
Aya: What?!
Nathaniel: I forgive you
Aya: Uh-uh!
Nathaniel: It’s okay, mom. It’s okay.
Louis: Take back your dirty fucking rag! *Tosses Alix the rag* This is my guy! Nath! He’s not even a guy, he’s a god! Come here! *Kisses Nathaniel’s cheek*
*The Austins, dressed as Roman soldiers barge in*
Austin A: The kiss is a signal! That’s Nathaniel! Get him!
Nathaniel: What?! Wait, what? No! *Austin Q and B restrain and drag him out* You betrayed me? Mom! Mom!
Louis: No!
Nathaniel: Tell my story!
Ivan: Oh, it’s was Nathaniel you were going to betray!
Louis: *Everyone boos him* No, this wasn’t a betrayal kiss! No! This was a thank you kiss, not a betrayal kiss! *Someone pushes him to the ground* Nino! Nino!
Ivan: You’re in trouble!
Louis: No! Look at all these feet! Forever unclean!
—
Jean: The Lord, the Lord Jehovah has given unto you these fifteen… *drops one of the tablets* … Ten! Ten commandments for all to obey!
—
Kim: Ah, the Count Da Money!
Simon: It's "De Mon... "
Kim: DON'T correct me!
—
Ivan: Good gravy, it's Alya Césaire!
Adrien: The inventor of the... Cheshire Cat?
Alya: How did these dumbasses enslave us?
Ivan: She created the Underground Railroad, which I thought was a network of small groups moving stealthily around the country to escape slavery, but, yeah, no, this is a railroad.
Alya: Yeah, it's a railroad, and you fellas jumped the turnstile. *Cocks her musket* Pay up.
Adrien: Uh, how much are we talkin'?
Alya: Well, if you're a slave it's free, but if you're free, 20 bucks.
Nino: What if my uncle happens to be a slave? Is there, like, a friends and family thing you have?
Alya: Twenty bucks.
—
Announcer: Cosette is brought to you by the actual presidential candidate, Cosette Bellamy, and filmed in front of a live Black audience.
—
Ismael: As your chief advisor, you got to take this to the tippity-top!
Cosette/Zoé: Harry Belafonte?
Audience: *laughing*
Ismael: No. To the president.
Cosette: You want me to call President Bourgeois?
Ismael: Well, there are a few things I'd like to call him, but they wouldn't clear standards and practices.
—
Austin A: So, do you care if it falls?
Austin T: What?
Austin A: The Roman Empire.
Austin T: Fuck it!
—
Ladybug: One of you has already betrayed me this night.
Miraculous Team: What?/Who could it be?/I didn't do it
Chat Noir: CapriKid! *He yells in fright* Do you want a beverage? Try some of the juice, it's terrific!
CapriKid: *Nervously sweating* No. No. I'm good!
—
Marc: *Exaggerated French accent* We are so poor! We don't even have a language! Just a stupid accent!
Aurore: *Exaggerated French accent* He's right. He's right. We all sound like Maurice Chevalier. Honh, honh, honh!
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#science kids#akuma class#history of the world part 2#history of the world part 1
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Slight rant/ted talk
Trans People are People Too
So this person on tik tok responded to one of my comments, saying "they/them pronouns wtf y'all are still on that?"
One thing to note: I did not mention my pronouns in my comment nor are they in my name. This person had to have gone onto my profile, saw my pronouns and then decided that they needed to make a comment about it.
A ton of people responded to their comment defending me and other gender non-conforming people.
This person then went on to make a comment about what gentiles I have. 1, they have no way of knowing. 2, that's super fucking creepy especially considering i am a minor.
Many people called them creepy and they said, "it's not creepy, every woman has one" which is just incredibly false. Also how tf would they know what genitalia I have?
They continued to respond to other people under my comment while actively ignoring all of my comments, especially the one where I stated that I was a minor and it doesn't really matter whats in my pants.
The worst part of this though was their most recent comments. They said that "people like her make all the gays look bad"
They then revealed that they are gay/a member of the LGBTQ+ community.
To be honest I wasn't upset at first. I'm used to cis het people being ignorant bigots towards minorities. Especially when they have the cover of the internet to shield them. But a member of my own community? Not gonna lie that hurt a little bit.
I know it's just a stranger on the internet but if our own community can't stick together what hope do we have?
I live in the US and frankly it's scary right now. All of these bills and people in power who would rather focus on getting rid of the gays then helping the kids being shot I'm schools. It's so sad.
And to all the people telling people like me who aren't happy with our country "just move then" it is not as easy as you are making it sound. People can't just up and move across seas or across the continent.
I know they would like that though. If everyone who dares to be different would just leave and stop complaining about our rights being stripped from us.
I'm being told by my grandfather that it's not actually that bad. Maybe not for him, he's a cis het white man who only watches Fox News. I commented on one of his bigoted transphobic posts on Facebook and he blocked me and refused to respond to any of my messages. He then called my mom a bitch when she got pissed at him.
We're back on good terms now thankfully. He still has some effed up opinions on LGBTQ+ people, which is hard not just for me but my little sibling as well.
This is the same man who used to tell me to stand up for my country and the things that I believe in. I guess that only applies to things he agrees with.
Our community is being told to stop being so loud about our rights and maybe people would like us more. Imagine if we talked to women in the 1920s and informed them that we are still fighting for equal rights even 100 years later.
I don't care if things are "better now." Better doesn't mean good or safe. People are still being killed for this. We are moving backwards instead of forward. Don't they know history is doomed to repeat itself? Especially if they refuse to make changes.
I informed my uncle of the new bill in Florida about how trans kids are being ripped away from their families just because their families support them. He said "yeah that'll get fought. It won't stay for long."
But he also said that this bill would never get passed. I love my uncle and he means we'll but he still has a lot more faith in our country than I do. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. But it's also leaving him ignorant to a lot of the things that are going on.
Even if that bill doesn't stay "for long" as he says it's still a problem now. People are fleeing Florida and parents have already lost kids to this fucked up system. That's going to cause irreversible trauma on not just the parents but kids as well.
My uncle also says the biggest problem with our country right now is our economy. When I informed him I frankly didn't care about the economy as much as other problems, he laughed. "You're gonna care when you can't pay for anything to live"
The way things are going, by the time I am paying on my own to live I won't have the rights to do so.
Since before I came out I have always wanted to attend a pride parade as I've never been to one. Several months ago my mom and I talked about attending one during pride month. But now I don't want to, the thought honestly scares me.
I live in a small town in a red state. I hate going out in public because of the people in this town. I ate the way they look at me and my friends as if we don't belong.
My heart goes out to my LGBTQ+ siblings. Things are fucking scary right now. Please don't discriminate against your own community or else we don't have any hope of going anywhere.
Happy Pride Month I Guess
#transphobic gay people are honestly worse than cis het transphobes#lgbtq community#lgbtq#lgbtqia#gay#lesbian#trans#nonbinary#they/them#pride month#trans people are people#human rights#fuck america#america is a shit show#stick together#the government doesn't give a fuck about us#ted talks#lgbtq friendly#i hate it so much#its scary#usa is not a free country#make them listen#i need something to restore my faith in humanity#were fucked
9 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
winter-fox-the
Skyler Vardul
purgatorys-parade
WELCOME TO PURGATORY
birdofdawning
A Number of Things
tarikuta
taRka: a collaborative project by Myrh
fleurie3am15inspo
Stupid Head