#I mean I hoped I would in Wyoming and I did not. I hoped I would in California and I did not. I hoped I would in Oklahoma and I did not.
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I’m stressed by my work schedule. Thankfully I get paid on Friday and can hopefully deal with the speeding ticket issue. I know my dearest friend is also stressed by their work schedule. I feel so distant from them. I want to spend time with them and do activities with them in the evenings when they get home from work but they’re usually more interested in playing video games or staring at the internet than actively engaging with me. I had brought up to them that I feel distant from them and they said they’re trying to distance from me so it’ll hurt less when I leave in a few weeks. It… was an emotionally confusing response, like why did they ask me to stay longer if they’re just going to distance from me? I feel stuck in a place where I’m desperately trying to connect with someone I care very dearly for and like they want to connect with me but just can’t, doesn’t want me to go despite knowing that they can’t be present in my life the way I need. I kinda feel like my brain is being ripped in half again. I hope that things will be easier when their work schedule lightens up. But just the same I don’t quite know how to handle the growing stress of my own work schedule when I don’t even really want to be here where I increasingly feel ignored. The ambient sounds of the city stress me. The grinding gears of capitalism stress me. The long work hours and irregular schedule that doesn’t respect the one fucking day of the week I requested to always have off stresses me. I want so much to be out in the woods again. I stay because of them. I would stay as long as they want me to. But I just wish they would act like they actually want to spend time with me if they want me to stay.
#this is goggles#autism continues to make me feel like I’m trapped in a glass bubble#where I desperately want to connect with the world around me but can’t#I’m charming and fun and kind and intelligent and interesting and helpful#I am a well liked person but I just can’t quite feel integrated with those around me#I reflect upon the trans support group the other night when I had asked about dating tips and everyone said to use the internet#and I just don’t jive with the internet as much as I used to#it actively makes me feel more distant from others not more connected#like I want to live somewhere with shitty to no internet service again#it legitimately forced the people around me to actively engage in meaningful fun activities not just staring at rectangles all the time#I’m so tired of staring at rectangles I want to cook by the fire and do sports and play games and make art and build things and snuggle#I want to feel human and I want to be with other humans#I want to love and be loved in return#why do I repeatedly get super attached to people who are too broken and skittish to love?#I’m so tired. I want to go to Washington. I hope that I’ll find what I need there.#I mean I hoped I would in Wyoming and I did not. I hoped I would in California and I did not. I hoped I would in Oklahoma and I did not.#I really wonder if I ever really will find someplace that is gentle on me and I feel loved and integrated with the community#I desperately hope so. I’m so tired of being an outsider.
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everything’s about you to me
ellie williams x reader
chapter one: things have changed
masterlist for other chapters (prologue) *✧・゚: wc: 3.3k
summary: in the midst of the apocalypse, you and ellie find each other after you’ve both lost everything. what started out as a mere safety in numbers pairing, turns into something imperishable. however, after some time you get separated, leaving you both to believe the other is dead. four years later you find a commune in wyoming.
warnings: violence, mentions of guns and knives, killing infected and people, reader and ellie are both 19, 18+ mdni
author’s note: guys it’s going to get sad before it gets happy OOPS but i hope you enjoy chapter one! let me know what you think, comments & reblogs are always appreciated <3
♪ ‘cause the world could be burning, and all i’d be thinking, is “how are you doing, baby?”
˚ · • . ° .
You scraped your spoon along the bottom of the can, trying to get every last bit of food out of it. The air was cold and lonely as you sat cross-legged on the hard ground, leaves rustling each time you moved your foot trying to ease the pins and needles. The sky was dark slate and the wind whispered eerily through the treetops.
For the past month you had lucked out with living in a desolate bungalow in a rural part of Missouri. It was rundown and musty like all buildings were, with blood stains you couldn’t get out and broken windows you had to board up with wood, but it was a luxury in comparison to a lot of places. You had had a mattress to sleep on and there had been two sleeping bags stuffed down the back of the wardrobe. You imagined someone had hid them there for safe keeping but had never made it back home.
This cosy living situation was no more, however, as yesterday you had returned from a supply run to find the place ransacked. You had approached the building slowly and silently as soon as you had seen that the front door was open. You gripped your machete firmly in one hand, the other ghosting at your hip over the pistol in your holster. Judging by the open door and the knocked over cabinet in the entry way you assumed you would be dealing with people, not infected. You carefully stepped inside, keeping alert on all doors and windows around you. Your head snapped towards the sound of something falling into a bathtub.
You made your way across the room, glancing inside the open bedroom door as you passed. It was empty from what you could see but that didn’t mean you were going to let your guard down any time soon. You stood close to the wall, right outside the bathroom door, thinking the best thing to do was to wait until they came out and catch them off guard.
It had been three years since you had left the Pittsburgh QZ. You often thought about your dad and the way he sacrificed himself to let you live. In the beginning you cried a lot, the tears seemed to run without your control. Now, you didn’t necessarily feel any less sad, but you had learnt to deal with it. Your relationship with him had become strained when he started smuggling. It had turned him into something aggressive and scary. You could tell he tried not to be like that around you but when every corner of your life is threatening, it was hard not to be.
Living in a QZ didn’t eliminate you from having seen people die, tortured, hung, and beaten, but it wasn’t the same as out here. In there it was almost controlled, if you followed the rules you were fine. Here it was just a free for all. Any naivety you once had about killing infected and killing people was gone. You had always been a fast learner and now you understood why your parents had always pushed you to learn survival skills and how to fight.
You didn’t always get it then, when you were younger and had the security of the QZ, but you got it now and you could do it. Survive and fight. You had to, the only alternative was dying or losing your mind to this bloodthirsty disease.
You hated to dwell because if you did you would cry, and crying now only reminded you of how soft and gentle you still could be. It felt like there wasn't a place for that anymore, the world only demanded fear and violence. Your mom had always told you that you should never lose your heart or your head. Yes, you needed to be practical and make tough decisions but what was the point in that if you had lost hope and something to live for.
“You’ll be a shell of a person,” she would say and you would reiterate.
“That can never happen as long as i have you around to remind me.”
Then she would smile and you would feel safe, even if it was just in that moment. But as your shoulder pressed against the cracked wall, breath still and hands steady, your heart was pounding. Come on you fucker, you thought, get out.
As if by command, the doorknob slowly began to turn. You prepared yourself to grab them or swipe them with your machete when the door swung open. You jumped and you tried to swallow the scream that was coming out.
“Mom! Jesus fucking Christ, I could have killed you.”
“Shh,” she slapped a hand over your mouth and whispered, “they might still be here.”
You nodded, not daring to speak and you noticed her grip her knife. she pointed towards the open front door and you followed her lead. You could now hear distant voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying. You locked eyes with your mom before she peered around the doorway. She held up three fingers to indicate how many people she could see.
“Stay here,” she mouthed. You shook your head in confusion. She gave you a ‘promise me’ look before slipping out through the door. You held your position but prepared yourself to step in at any point. You flinched when you heard a squelch and a grunt. One down. The sputtering sound of a jugular being split open came next. That’s two.
You heard a male sounding grunt before hearing one that you knew was your mom. You poked your head round the door and saw a man with his arm wrapped tightly around her neck. Her hands scraped at his bandaged skin to try and pull him off. Your eyes immediately then darted down to her blood soaked knife on the ground and the gun the man had pointed at her head. You were automatically up on your feet, hand ripping your pistol out and firing it at the man’s head.
He went down and your mom fell to her knees, catching her breath. It didn’t take her long to recover her senses though and she grabbed her knife back and also reached for a gun, immediately firing it at a person you couldn't see as they were around the corner of the house. She kept firing and you used the corner of the wall as a shield before firing shots also. More people were encroaching and you could see they had at least one truck with them, probably full of ammo and supplies.
“There’s too many, let’s move,” your mom yelled.
You both started to sprint in the opposite direction past the front of the house, hoping that it would bide you a second of time before the group came around the corner. You didn’t even stop to fire anymore shots, you were just hellbent on getting out of there. Your heavy backpack thudded on your back as you ran, sharp corners of various items prodding you with the impact.
“Down here,” you called out and swerved around a clump of thick trees, hoping they would lose sight of you. Your legs ran you through to a wooded area and you didn’t stop until you were convinced you had lost them and felt like your body was ready to vomit up a lung. You bent over, hands resting on your knees as you tried to catch your breath.
“You okay?” your voice came out hoarse.
“Yeah, yeah,” your mom, clearly struggling to breathe also, chucked the words out as if she could barely understand what she was saying.
Your mouth was insanely dry, your tongue felt tacky as it hit the roof of your mouth. You pulled a water bottle out of your bag and took a sip before offering it to your mom, who gladly accepted.
“We’re gonna have to ration this,” she said, twisting the cap back on. You huffed in acknowledgment. You had a couple tins of food and bottles of water between you, but not much. Most of it was dead and gone back in the bungalow. Which is why you were now, the next evening, sitting on the forest floor, scraping that stupid tin of beans for everything it was worth.
“Fucking raiders,” you grumbled, throwing the can to the ground.
“We’ll find somewhere else,” your mom tried to reassure you.
You grumbled but nodded, wanting to make sure the reassurance was appreciated. The last three years had been hard. Your mind often wandered back to that night you escaped. The way your body went stone cold at the guard’s voice. The noise of the everlasting gunshots still felt like shards of glass passing through your ears. The sight of the first lot of sticky blood soaking your dad’s shirt whilst he still stood tall and ready made you feel sick. Nothing in the world can ever prepare you for losing a loved one so suddenly. Nothing else compares to that invasive reminder that your life is so fragile. How can someone be there one minute and not the next.
“It’ll be okay,” your mom must have noticed the wide spacy look in your eye as she put a hand over yours.
“Nothing ever seems okay.”
“We’re still here, aren't we?”
“Yeah but…” you then realised you were nearly in tears as you sniffled.
“Oh honey,” your mum said, moving to sit closer beside you and she pulled you in tight, rubbing your arm. You could feel her heartbeat against your cheek.
“I miss dad, I miss my room, I miss Amy, I miss everything…I’m just so tired.”
“I know, sweetheart. Me too.”
“I just–why,” you wept, “why did he have to…we could all still be together.”
She started stroking your hair, letting you continue.
“It hurts too much to think about. I wish I could forget.”
In the pause before your mom spoke you could hear how she was fighting to hold back sobs.
“Oh I’m so sorry. so so sorry.”
“What for?”
“For not protecting you like I should have.”
“Mom–”
“No, I should have tried harder to keep you safe and I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you.”
“You’ve always protected me,” your throat hurt to speak, “I wouldn't be here if it wasn’t for you.”
Hot tears trickled down her neck and one wedged itself between where your skin pressed against her chest.
“I’ll always look after you, baby.”
You held each other for a while. The bitter air pinched your hands so you wiggled your fingers to reignite some life. Pulling away, you and your mom shared a soft smile. Even during the worst times, you were always able to put a smile on each other’s faces. If you were being completely honest, it was the main thing that had kept you going all this time. No matter how bad it got, all you had to do was look up and she was there.
“I’ll take the first watch,” you said.
“You sure?”
“Yes, get some sleep.”
“Okay,” she said softly, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
You watched as she pushed around at her backpack, trying to make it acceptable enough to use as a pillow. You didn’t have any sleeping bags or blankets now and despite it being cold it wasn’t dangerously so. Your layers of a long sleeve top underneath a t-shirt, jeans, jacket and converses would have to do. Besides, it wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last time you’d have to sleep like this.
You leaned against a tree, knees bent, knife in hand. Your eyes travelled up to the glowing moon. When every other aspect of the world was rapid and formidable, capable of drastic change at any point, something consistent and pure like the moon was a precious thing. You couldn’t count on much, but you could count on it being there every night, shining like everything was fine.
Your mom shook you awake the next morning after she had taken the second watch. You blinked a few times and rubbed your neck which felt stiff as you sat up. considering your lack of supplies, you both agreed it was a good idea to go in search of some and keep moving, hopefully you would be able to find a safe-ish place to camp out.
You had lived in that bungalow for long enough to know the area. That did mean that you had scavenged all the nearby supplies already but at least you knew which direction to head in to get out of these woods and far away from the raiders. Your feet hurt as you trudged along.
You walked for miles before eventually finding a diner off the side of the road. You hadn’t found many supplies along the way but you had found a baseball bat covered in nails beside an already dead infected. You both approached the diner slowly, in preparation for anything you might come up against. Sure enough, you heard that familiar wail.
“Sounds like there’s infected in there,” you said quietly.
“Only sounds like one or two, we’ll be okay,” your mom assured.
You readied yourself with your weapons and moved closer to the door. It was made of glass and you could clearly see two runners in there. Studying the size of the diner you thought it would be best to open the door and draw them outside to kill them, giving yourself a wider space to move in. Perfect, you thought as you saw an abandoned coke bottle on the ground. You picked it up and eased the door open, praying it didn’t make too much noise. You then threw the bottle away from the door and ran a few steps back, listening to the screech they made as they sprung to life by the noise. The direction you had thrown the bottle in meant their backs were to you so you and your mom could sneak up behind and stealth kill them. You grabbed the bat and swung it at one of their heads meanwhile your mom took out the other.
“See? easy,” your mom laughed.
“Sure,” you laughed too.
You both made your way towards the diner and rummaged through every last crevice for signs of supplies. You managed to find some tape and a few bullets. Not much but not bad, you thought and stuffed them in your bag. The diner’s decor was mostly red and white. The red masking the smears of blood on the walls and the white highlighting it as clear as day. A crumpled, dusty menu laid on the counter and you picked it up.
“Hmm, $7 for a burger, and an extra dollar if you want cheese,” you scoffed, scanning the menu, “all the food in the world and you had to pay for it.”
“Yeah, I’d pay $20 for a cheeseburger right now,” your mom quipped, scanning the counter for anything else that might be useful.
You put the menu back and opened a cupboard that was situated above your head on the wall. A clutter of silver pots and pans fell out, your hands desperately trying to catch them but they all hit the floor with a shrill bang. a clicking noise followed.
“Oh no,” you breathed.
You barely had any time to process what was about to happen when three clickers burst through the diner door. You quickly made an attempt to distance yourself as much as possible, reaching for a gun and firing at one of them. It hit but it didn’t stop coming. You heard your mom firing her gun also but you didn’t dare take your eyes off the two coming for you. You fired again and it thrashed but still wasn't dead. Your heart was pounding and with a clammy hand you grabbed a sugar bowl and threw it at a far away wall. All three clickers snapped and huddled to the sound of smashing china. You made a run for the door grabbing your mom’s arm as you did so.
In the haste, her bag got stuck on the door. She yanked it free but the seconds lost meant that the clickers were attracted to your presence again. You both ran behind a car, hoping the extra distance would make them lose you, but it didn’t. You both fired your guns and one eventually dropped dead. You noticed your mom pick up a rock and throw it at one of them, stunning it, hopefully giving her enough time to kill it but the slight distraction meant the other had a chance to grab you.
“Fuck!” you screamed, using every piece of strength you had to hold it off, its gnawing yellow teeth only centimetres away from your face. Your back was pressing into the side of the car. You couldn’t reach for any kind of weapon because it would kill you before you managed to. Your eyes squeezed shut thinking any second now your skin would be ripped apart when suddenly the weight of it disappeared, followed by silence. You hesitantly opened your eyes, expecting to see your mom but instead you saw a girl with blood splattered across her face and a dead clicker at your feet.
“I–um, thank you,” you couldn’t string a sentence together as you took in the sight before you.
“Are you okay?” your mom rushed to you, hands cupping your face, “are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine, I think,” you mumbled in shock.
Your mom moved to your side and you looked up at the girl who was wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. She looked about your age and had a full backpack, accompanied by a bow, a shotgun, a pistol, a metal crowbar and a switchblade which seemed to be what she had just used as she was wiping it on her jeans.
“Thank you,” you said again, not sure if your words earlier had even been coherent.
“It’s,” she waved her hand in dismissal, “no big deal.”
It very much was a big deal, you thought. This stranger had just saved your life. But she didn’t seem like the type to accept too many pleasantries so you left it. There was a moment of awkward silence. What now? Do you give her your name? Do you part ways? It looked like she was on her own which made you feel sad, despite not knowing anything about her. Then your mom introduced herself.
“Ellie,” the girl said in return, eyes looking back and forth between you and your mom, who nudged your arm.
“Y/n,” you said.
“Are you by yourself?” your mom asked. Ellie paused before answering, scratching the back of her head.
“Um, yeah I am.”
Your mom looked at you but you couldn’t detect what look it was that she had on her face. You furrowed your eyebrows at her before she turned her attention back to Ellie.
“Did you want to come with us?”
Ellie looked a bit taken aback by the offer.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere,” your mom shrugged, “anywhere we can.”
Ellie nodded to herself, clearly weighing up her options. That’s the thing about this life, you didn’t have many.
“Okay,” she finally said.
“Great,” your mom smiled warmly at her. Normally she wasn’t this trusting and you found it strange that she seemed to let her guard down around Ellie so quickly. But then Ellie had just saved her daughter’s life so your mom probably assumed she wasn’t the rampaging murderous type.
Ellie looked over at you and you realised you hadn’t said anything. you gave her a small smile and it was the first time you’d properly studied her face. Freckles fell across her cheeks like stars and the softness of it contrasted with the cut in her eyebrow and bruise on her cheek. You also couldn’t help but notice a bandage on her right forearm.
“We better move,” your mom gestured, “let’s keep going this way.”
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i’m not comfortable tagging ageless blogs incase you’re a minor so if you wanted to be tagged and weren’t, that’s why.
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams#ellie williams fic#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams angst#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams smut#ellie x reader#ellie x you#tlou2#the last of us#tlou fic#ellie tlou#everything’s about you to me#ellie williams x female reader#spaceshipellie fics#ellie williams fics#ellie fic
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In Time Part 8
Rancher Joel Miller / Reader
You lost your dear Uncle. Your TV Star boyfriend dumped you. You needed a job. You got one at a ranch in Wyoming. Where you met Joel. A very grumpy man. Grumpy man has issues.
WARNINGS:
Grumpy Joel, Hurt Joel, Grieving Joel, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Mentions of Hostage Situation and Shooting, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst
SERIES MASTER LIST
Part 7
---
Joel wanted to keep kissing you.
But you froze.
So he pulled back, said Happy New Year and pretended to enjoy the fireworks.
But he wasn’t watching the fireworks. He was reading your body language.
You seemed hesitant. Were you mad? Did he cross the line?
But now he knew what your lips on his felt like, and it was amazing. In his head, he was kind of hoping for one of those moments where the new year kiss turned into a real one. But he guessed not.
You didn’t slap him, though. So, is that a good thing?
You stood there, willing him to kiss you again. You froze. Fuck, why did you freeze? You were just shocked if you were being honest. You didn’t think he would go for the lips. You thought he’d give you a quick peck on the cheek.
But now you knew what his lips felt like on yours.
And they were glorious.
This was one of those times you wished one of your movie fantasies would come true. That the new year kiss would turn into a real one. Fireworks in the background and everything. You wish you had the courage to just pull him back down to you and kiss him again. But you were a lady.
And unfortunately, when not grumpy, Joel was a gentleman.
Shit.
What a missed opportunity.
******************************************
You actually thought that this was easy money. Your workload was light. Your days were spent going on rounds and treating minor wounds, before helping Bill muck the stalls. You had gotten so fit from scooping poo alone. So much poo. Who needed a gym when there was this much poo to scoop?
But then, January came. And with it came the calving season.
Fucking hell.
You knew calving was a great source of income for the ranch, but you had seriously underestimated the number of calves a ranch this size would have. Not to mention the other, smaller three that surrounded it.
You were busy. Thank God for Frank.
You were practically out on call every other day. You had to alternate between ranches one night – Frank had dropped you off and went to another, but there were some complications with the mother cow he was birthing. The rancher, Jimmy, kindly drove you over, and Frank went back to Jimmy’s to finish your job. By the time it was over, it was morning, and you walked into the chow hall bleary eyed and practically unconscious.
Joel greeted you, worry written all over his face. He sat both you and Frank down and made both of you a plate. You couldn’t even remember if you actually ate anything. The next thing you remember, you were on an unfamiliar bed.
A bed that smelt a lot like Joel.
Your head was fuzzy. It was only 10 am, but you were awoken by the sounds of a snowplow. You got out of bed and went to the door nearest to it. The engine cut. You could hear Joel talking to someone. You peered down and saw Joel talking to Ed in a low voice. Ed looked up and saw you.
“Sorry, Doc! Didn’t know you were sleeping. I’ll continue later. Go back to sleep.”
“No, that’s alright. Don’t stop on account of me. I should probably get up anyway. Lots to do.”
“You must be tired, I heard you were up all night.” He looked at Joel for a second, before looking back up at you. He smiled, patted Joel on the shoulder and walked off.
Uh… what did he mean by that?
Joel looked up and saw you, trying to read your facial expressions from where he was standing. His phone went off, an alarm, it seemed, and he quickly walked back inside.
That’s when it clocked on you. You were on his balcony. The one that’s just outside his bedroom.
This must be his house. His bedroom.
His bed.
Oh. My. God. You slept on Joel’s bed. In his bedroom.
You went downstairs, Frank sleeping soundly on the couch. Okay, that’s better. You two must have slept here because you were too tired to go home. Phew.
“Morning.”
You jumped.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
He had his hands up, your mug in his hand. He handed it to you. He watched you with a nervous look on his face as you took a sip.
Hey, this was your tea. You took another sip. This was your tea. From your cabin. Made just the way you liked it. You took another sip, eyes closing at the sensation as the warmth from the tea covered your body. You opened your eyes, his nervous face coming clear in your line of sight.
“Is it okay? Did I offend you?”
“What?”
“You are particular about your tea. Did I make it okay?”
You couldn’t help smiling.
“It’s very good. Just how I like it. Thank you.”
He released a held-up breath, nodding happily, seemingly relieved he hadn’t offended you. He went back into the kitchen. You followed him. He was getting something from the warmer.
“You fell asleep while eating your breakfast. I saved it for you, but I could make you something else if you prefer?”
Oh God.
“I didn’t faceplant into the plate or anything did I?” you asked, horrified at the possibility.
He gave you a soft laugh, shaking his head no.
“Hey, where did you get my tea?” you asked, as you sat down and began to eat. Your stomach was growling.
“Ellie ran to your office to get it for you. We didn’t want you to wake up without your tea. Apparently you could be a grump without it,” he said, a cheeky look on his face.
“Says the Grumpus.”
He laughed. You took another sip of tea.
“Did you make this? How did you know how I like it?”
He looked at his feet, “Watched you make it when we were at your place, remembered it…”
You were touched. In all your life, only Benny and your mom had remembered how you liked your tea. Frank caught on, but he had spent every day watching you do it, and even then, you sometimes had to add more milk, or wished he had steeped it further. Joel had spent a few days with you and took the time to learn how you liked your tea, just for the sake of it. And it was perfect.
“Thank you, Joel.”
“You remembered how I like my coffee, so, I figured…” he shrugged.
You began eating again, before asking him how you got to be in his bedroom. He carried you, he said, making your cheeks feel warm.
“You didn’t cop a feel or anything, did you?”
He bellowed. It’s nice to see him like this. Relaxed, happy.
“No, I didn’t, I promise. But I did have to wipe your face and hair with a wet cloth. You had some stuff sticking all over you.”
Ah… the joys of birthing a cow.
“How come you didn’t wipe my face?” Frank’s voice came from behind you. He went to the sink and practically dunked his head under the faucet, rubbing his face hard to get rid of some goop that was there, before wiping his face with a washcloth, turning around and giving Joel a smirk.
Joel shoved the coffee pot in his hands.
You laughed. Frank wiggled his eyebrows at Joel. He threw a washcloth at him.
“I’ll go first, shower, and open the office, Doc. Take your time okay? Joel, you can drive her home, right?”
Joel nodded.
“I’m thinking I should get a car. Easier for us to split up next time? I don’t have to rely on people to go to the store. I haven’t really thought of getting one, I’m only here for a year, but if I could get a small one, second hand, maybe I can give it to Ellie, for when she turns 16?” you said to Frank. It was problematic, you not having a car, relying on people to drive you around, getting to the other ranches, the store, getting tampons…
Joel had a look on his face that you couldn’t really read. Frank too.
“We’ll talk about that later. I can drive you around in the meantime,” Joel told you, turning around to get something from the fridge. Frank watched him, a worried look on his face. He smiled at you and left.
“Sorry it had been so busy for you this past month. Calving season can be overwhelming. We used to have more vets around here, but one retired, one moved to the next town over to open his own practice, the other one got married and moved two towns over. We made do with just Frank and the town vet before you arrived, but he lives on the other side of town, and he was only one man. Pete, our vet, had to go back home for a bit, his mom got diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. It was a miracle we got you on such short notice, really. Not many people would just drop their lives and move to live on a ranch.”
“You’re implying I had a life before I came here. I really didn’t. Except for taking care of Benny, I didn’t really have one. And when he passed, I didn’t have anything to do. Plus, it’s an adventure. It’s good experience. It’s only a year, right? Maybe I will grow to love it and find another ranch to work on after.”
His face shut down again. You finished your meal and got up to clean up. He took your plate from you and shook his head. You tried to protest, but he was a big man, and his entire body covered the sink, your efforts to push him aside in vain. He laughed at your attempts, quickly doing the dishes and wiping the table with practiced ease.
He gave you your tea before you left, but you shook your head no. Keep it, you said. For next time.
It was his turn to blush at the implication.
***************************************
Joel worried. He worried a lot for you. Worried that you were overwhelmed by the calving season, worried that you didn’t get enough rest, worried that you would get sick, worried that you would be leaving in a few months…
He didn’t want you to leave. But who was he to stop you?
You planned your life around this year. Even when talking about getting a car, you planned on giving the car to Ellie when you left. You need a shelf for your books? Oh, you’re only here for a year, you couldn’t carry the shelf with you when you left. So you just stacked them on the floor in the living room. You didn’t have enough clean sweaters to wear with the calving season soiling them more often than usual? Ah, you’ll just wash them more often, you won’t need them after the year is up. You decided to buy more anyway? Well, you could just donate them. Everything had an expiry date.
He would have one too.
He told Sarah about you. He often wondered if Sarah would’ve liked you. And the way his heart warmed every time he mentioned you to her, he felt sure that Sarah would have approved. The others seemed to have clocked his poorly hidden yearning for you. Despite their nosy attitude after the Christmas break, they seemed to have just left it alone, although not so subtly leaving the two of you for some alone time whenever they could.
Then again, that was them. What about you? Did you feel the same? He didn’t have as much time as he’d like with you these couple of months. Calving season kept you busy. He’d lost count on the number of times he’d walked somewhere to find you with your plastic apron and gloves on or ran into you looking exhausted with goop all over your hair, face and neck. He couldn’t stop you from doing your job, that’s why you were here in the first place. Not him.
And even if he had the courage to tell you how he felt, what would happen after the year was up? Would you stay? He couldn’t let himself fall for you and have his heart broken when you leave. He couldn’t risk it. His heart couldn’t take it.
Except, he had fallen for you. Hard.
It’s all a moot point, though. He was your friend. The friend who was an asshole to you when you first met. You may have forgiven him, you said so, so many times, but he couldn’t forgive himself. He made you cry within fifteen minutes of meeting you. He had been nervous. When Tess sent him your picture, he thought you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen in his life. He looked forward to meeting you. But seeing Cindy on TV that morning…
He hated how much she could still affect him after all these years. What she did changed him as a person. He blocked his heart from everyone, except Sarah. And when she passed, he kept everyone at arm’s length.
And then you came along. Suddenly what was in the past didn’t control him anymore. It just taught him a lot. You helped him do that, even if you didn’t know it. He didn’t want to go back to the man he was. He was unhappy, miserable.
And he knew that once you left, he would return to be that man.
**********************************
Spring brought with it the foaling season. Given the cow-horse ratio in the area, you were more relaxed, but still kept busy. Although, you didn’t know why it was called spring when there was still snow on the ground, and you were still freezing your arse off.
Spring also brought with it more flannel-wearing Joel. And with that, more staring at the man. Ellie had taken to giving you sly looks every time she noticed you ogling him. Oftentimes, even going so far as drawing your attention to him, accompanied by naughty eyebrow wiggles when you blushed at the sight of him.
Joel had been a lot more civil to her these days. You wouldn’t call them buddies, but he no longer barked at her, even going so far as greeting her at times. You saw what she meant when she said to give him time. He’ll come around.
You just didn’t expect him to come around as much as he did, as quickly as he did.
It was Ellie’s birthday. You had gone over and made her the magic toast for breakfast, although she had steadfastly told Tess and Penny they were not allowed any. But she gave in and made you make them some, as well as Maria, as she was heavily pregnant by then, and couldn’t stand the idea that her new baby cousin might crave a taste. Before you knew it, word had gotten around that you were making this toast for more than just Ellie, and the house was filled with the entire family. Even Anita and Jake made an appearance. Your jar of secret ingredient was left sad and empty by the end, really empty, in fact, as Ellie had licked the jar clean of any residue.
Ellie begged and begged you to teach her how to make that secret ingredient. You just shook your head nope. Mrs Adler gave you her best imploring look to get the ingredients out of you, even going so far as listing the things she could think of. Tess, Penny, Maria, Frank, Anita all tried their best, the silence, the closed eyes, the moans that resulted from their first bites of the toast fresh in their heads. You remained resolute. No.
“But how are we going to eat this once you leave?” Ellie had said.
Her statement left the entire room quiet. Your heart dropped at the thought of it.
You were leaving. You couldn’t stay. This job belonged to someone else. You were just filling in, you had to remember that. But the thought of leaving made you sad. they had all been so nice and welcoming to you. and you really loved it here. The thought of never seeing Ellie and Frank daily made you want to cry.
And the thought of never seeing Joel again…
Penny broke the silence, telling everyone about the picnic they wanted to have at the oak trees that evening. They also wanted to take Ellie riding in the afternoon. She had been getting much better at riding and was going to take more classes at the ranch with Tommy when summer came.
“Oh, Willow’s hoof is still healing, you can’t ride her,” Frank said, remembering. She had a small limp the last time Ellie took her out, and some sharp stones had split part of her hoof.
“Oh, well, then we’ll wait, okay?” Tess had said to Ellie. She didn’t want to risk Ellie riding an unfamiliar horse for the first time on her birthday. Ellie nodded. She understood.
“Why don’t you take Shimmer?”
It was Joel. His suggestion casual, sincere.
If silence was golden, everyone was dripping in gold.
Ellie didn’t speak. No one spoke. Everyone was just focused on Joel. His face earnest. His body relaxed.
Tess had tears in her eyes. You never thought you would see the day.
“You sure about this?” she asked Joel in a low whisper.
He nodded and looked at Ellie.
“It’s time. She likes you; you had taken care of her all this while; Sarah would want you to have her.”
Ellie couldn’t move. No one moved. The first time he had mentioned Sarah to them since she was gone.
“Joel, I…” Ellie finally said, her eyes filled with tears.
“Happy Birthday, kid.”
She lunged at him, hugging his torso. He lifted her into a bear hug, kissing her temple. The room was quiet, save for some sniffles and Ellie whispering thank you over and over again. Everyone had trouble seeing, sights blurred from tears. Even Bill was emotional.
When he finally put her down, he hugged her again, his eyes glistening, but he was smiling. He kissed her once more at the top of her head and took a step back. Tess and Penny hugged him together, the words thank you dripping from their lips.
After everyone settled in, Joel stepped outside, trying to calm himself down. He had had that thought in his head for a couple of weeks. He woke up with it. He had told Sarah about Shimmer’s antics during one of his talks with her the night before. He understood what you meant now, about your loved ones replying to you.
“That was nice, what you did.”
He turned around and looked at you. “Thank you. Sarah suggested it.”
You smiled, understanding what he meant. You were so proud of him.
The picnic that evening was lovely. The weather had warmed up slightly, and everyone gathered and had their fill, laughter and chatter filling the air. Joel stood up, and asked Ellie to join him for a walk. The two made their way slowly along the fencing, heads down as they did so.
“I wanted to say sorry for being such a jerk to you,” he began.
“It’s okay Joel, I understand. I would be a jerk to me, too.”
“No, I was a jerk, and I should apologize. You did nothing wrong. I am the adult, and I chose to take my grief out on you. You lost your mother, and I didn’t show you any sympathy. I only thought about mine. We both lost someone that day, but I made it all about me. You’re just a kid. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”
She was quiet for a beat.
“I’m sorry too, Joel. Sarah would still be alive if not for me.”
She kept looking at her shoes, the weight of that thought finally falling out of her mouth directly for him to hear forcing her head down.
He stopped walking, got down on his knees in front of her and took her by the shoulders.
“Hey, look at me.”
She did, hesitantly. Her eyes were brimming with tears. Joel felt horrible. He had encouraged this. This little girl had to live with this thought for two whole years because of how he acted towards her.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? It was her time. She chose to save you. We have to respect that, okay? If anything, I’m proud of her, she lost her life trying to save you. You were important to her. Important enough to risk her life for. You hear me?”
To be honest, he shocked himself when those words came out of his mouth. But he couldn’t argue with himself anymore. He knew it was true. Sarah loved Ellie. Always looking out for her. And she did, until her last breath. He knew she did that out of love, and he should be proud of her, as much as the resulting incident tore his heart apart. But he knew that her final action was a testament to the person she was. Loving, kind, caring, protective, responsible.
Ellie sobbed. Joel held her tight, letting her cry it out. He made her promise that she would stop blaming herself for what happened to Sarah. Promise me, he said. She nodded into his jacket, I promise, she said.
“I’ve got you, kid,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
From the picnic area, the family watched as this unfolded, relieved that after all these years, Joel had found himself again, and repaired what they never thought would ever be.
****************************************
Tess came to find you in the stables, telling you that someone was coming to scout the place for a wedding. You were told early on that it’s kind of a popular thing during the spring and summer. Ranching experiences, horse riding, tours, that sort of thing. So, you should expect people to come in while you were working too. And sometimes, the location was also used for movie shoots. It brought a lot of business to the ranch. Just giving you a head’s up, but it shouldn’t interfere with your work too much. You knew to expect this, of course, but this would be the first time this happened since you had started in early winter.
Later that evening, Maria was waiting for their potential client in front of the office. Tess was dealing with a phone call and would join her later. A large car stopped exactly where she stood, the driver came out and opened the door.
A man stepped out, dressed in oversized, ratty looking, but obviously new and expensive clothing. He shook Maria’s hand, before opening the door wider for someone. He seemed to be a bit unsteady on his feet.
A glamourous looking woman stepped out, looking around, her face covered in a huge pair of sunglasses. She was wobbly, at best. Maria thought for sure she was going to topple over if the man didn’t hold her up, not that he was steady himself.
“This place looks familiar. Was it used in a movie or something?” she asked Maria.
“Yes, several, in fact.”
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” the man asked.
Oh, Maria thought. He spoke like you did.
Tess finally came out of the office, a ready smile on her face. But it quickly snapped shut.
“Cindy?”
The lady took her sunglasses off, looked Tess up and down.
“It’s Cleo, actually, have we met?”
---
Part 9
#joel miller x reader#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#tlou fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#rancher joel miller
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Can I has a Joel x reader request where he ends up picking her up along the way(saving her) and she just kinda sticks around. She's good at medicinal herbs and foraging. speaking of WHY ARE THERE NO CHARACTERS LIKE THAT IN ANY POST APOCALYPTIC SHOW/MOVIE like that should be a course. Idk I want it to be fluffy like a clicker or an infected is running at her and he gets rid of it
I love this idea for sure, I hope you like it :)
"You're a fucking botanist?"
That was the first thing Joel asked me when he found me stranded in the country side of Wyoming, a young girl attached to his side when he looked down at the botany book in my hands and the array of flowers and twigs around me.
He almost shot me. Of course he didn't tell me that till weeks later, when we were finally settled in with his brother and the rest of civilization back in Jackson. He claimed that he thought I was infected by how much I was shaking but my claim was that it was nearly negative five degrees and my anxiety was skyrocketing as soon as I heard him step on a twig twenty feet away from me.
He saved me from freezing to death and getting mauled by a clicker and insulted my career in the same five minutes.
"Well botany was useless until the end of the world, huh?"
"I like to think that we were always useful, just not in obvious ways."
"Are you alone out here?" The girl asks with a kinder smile than the expression the mystery man is giving me, his eyes drooping low to look over me and my backpack to my left. She steps past the frightening man to step between the two of us, giving the man a hesitant but kind look before turning back to me.
"Yeah, just little old me." I shiver, teeth chattering as another blow of wind sweeps right through my bones, chilling me to my core. She frowns and pulls her jacket tightly around her chin before reaching into her pack to pull out a small blanket, tossing it onto the ground in front of me.
"Joel, can we keep her?" She asks as I scramble to wrap the blanket around my shoulders, already feeling ten times better than I did before.
"I'm not a stray dog." I giggle, looking at her with a teasing look and she nods bashfully, understanding how she came off.
"You practically look like it." The man mutters and I frown, heart panging as I lean down to smell my shirt and I have to be honest, it does resemble that of a wet dog.
"Ouch, when was the last time you showered, old man." I tease but his stoic expression sticks as his shoulders lift in a brief shrug.
"A week ago." He adds matter-of-factly and I feel envy swim in my belly at the thought of a snarky, unkind man like him deserving a hot shower, a shower that I would kill someone for.
"You guys are mean." I huff before looking to the girl with a smirk. "I like you." Before anyone else can say a word, Joel's eyes flicker past me and to the tree line and I feel my stomach drop at the frightened look on his face.
"Joel-" The young girl starts but Joel holds a hand up to her, taking a step towards me and I let him push me behind him and into the arms of the girl with a huff.
"I got it, Ellie." He mutters, holding the knife carefully in the air as the clicker approaches us and I look away in time as I hear the sound of the knife sheath itself into the skull of the monster in a split second. I take a breath, trying to regain my balance as I wobble a bit.
Between being scared by them and then the clicker, my heart needs a full restart.
"Jesus." Ellie whispers, head whipping in my direction as my butt hits the snow, head lolling between my knees while I try to catch my breath. Joel is in front of me in a moments notice with my backpack at his side, his hand carefully reaching out to rest on my shoulder, catching my attention.
"You okay?"
"She should come with us." Ellie whispers to him and he nods, reaching up to rub at his jaw as I feel my head start to spin, nausea bubbling in my throat.
"Yeah, she should." He whispers, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead before clicking his tongue, looking to the kid. "C'mon kid. Show her the ropes."
Ellie's laugh snaps me out of my thoughts, the fond smile on my lips returning to a normal thin line and I feel eyes on me as my head turns. Ellie and Joel are looking at me, forks in the air as they share a careful look and a laugh.
"What're you thinking about?" Joel asks with a curious, calm smile, a completely different expression than what he gave off when we first met. He's no longer stern and guarded around me, instead softening a bit and he's finally allowed himself to laugh around me.
"When we met." I shrug, nudging him with my elbow as I take a loud slurp of my soup, but the mellow tone is torn to shreds by Ellie's crude laugh, her spoon slapping down on the table while she looks between the two of us.
"You mean when you guys fell madly in love?" I feel my cheeks warm at her observation, an honest one at that, and I feel the butterflies return to my stomach as I sneak a glance at Joel who's blushing as red as a fire truck.
"Shut it, Ellie." He mutters and her eyes roll, hands raising in surrender.
"Oh I'm sorry for calling out the elephant in the room."
#joel#joel x reader#joel miller#joel miller x reader#the last of us#the last of us fic#joel miller x y/n#joel fluff#joel miller fluff
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Ch. 39: Court - Y/N
Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.
The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.
I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.
These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)
You stood up and slowly made your way to the witness stand, acutely aware of Dorian's gaze following you. After raising your hand and taking the oath of truth, you sat down. A sharp kick from the baby caused you to let out a small, "Ooof."
The judge looked at you with concern. "Are you okay, Doctor?"
You rubbed the spot on your belly where the baby had kicked. "Yes, thank you. The baby was just reminding me he's still there."
The judge smiled. "My wife had those same issues. Are you ready to proceed?"
"Yes, your Honor," you replied as you straightened yourself in the chair.
"Mr. Rowe. The floor is yours," the judge said to Dorian's attorney.
The attorney stood up and fixed his suit jacket. "Thank you, your honor," he replied as he slowly walked towards you. "Doctor Seresin. How did you meet Doctor Stryker?"
"Like Doctor Stryker said. During a grant study in Wyoming," you answered.
The attorney nodded thoughtfully. "And during this time, did Dr. Stryker ever mention that he had personal feelings for you?"
You took a deep breath. "No, he did not."
The attorney raised an eyebrow. "So, you were unaware of any romantic interest from Dr. Stryker during the study?"
"Yes," you confirmed. "Our interactions were strictly professional, and any personal feelings he might have had were not communicated to me at the time."
The attorney paused for a moment, then continued. "Can you describe the nature of your relationship with Dr. Stryker during the study?"
"Our relationship was purely professional," you explained. "We collaborated on the research and spent time working together, but there was no indication of any romantic involvement."
"What made you decide to go to Wyoming to work on this study, Doctor Seresin?"
"It was a part of my degree that I was interested in. It would help with the animals in Wisconsin," you replied, matter-of-fact-like.
The attorney nodded, jotting something down before continuing. "And what specific aspects of this study were you interested in?"
"The study of zoonotic diseases, which was directly relevant to my work with large animals in Wisconsin. I wanted to gain insights and practical experience that would benefit my research and improve my understanding of animal care," you explained.
The attorney seemed to absorb your answer, then asked, "Did you have any previous connections or relationships with Dr. Stryker before this study?"
"No," you said firmly. "I had no prior connections or relationships with Dr. Stryker before the study began. Our professional interaction started there."
"So, you weren't there because your husband left you?"
You sighed. "No. My husband didn't leave me. He was at training."
The attorney raised an eyebrow, seemingly taken aback by your calm and direct response. "So you were not emotionally distressed or in need of a distraction from your personal life when you participated in the study?"
"No," you said firmly. "I participated in the study for professional reasons, not as a means to escape any personal issues. My involvement was purely based on my interest in the research and its relevance to my career."
"Even after your husband found out you had lost a child due to your job?"
The courtroom fell silent as the opposing attorney's question hung in the air. You could feel the weight of the moment, but you held your ground, focusing on your response.
"Yes," you replied firmly. "My decision to participate in the study was based on my professional interests and goals. The circumstances surrounding my personal life did not affect my commitment to the research."
“So, let me make sure I understand. You were kicked in the stomach by a horse while three months pregnant, and your husband left for training, not because he was upset about the loss of the baby?”
You took a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure as you faced the opposing attorney's probing question. The courtroom was still, with everyone hanging on your response.
"No," you said firmly. "My husband was away for training as part of his career, not because of any personal issues related to the loss of the baby. Our professional commitments and the circumstances surrounding them were separate from the personal challenges we faced."
The attorney tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting." He then looked at you. "Doctor Seresin. When was the last time you spoke to your husband?"
"Last night," you answered, knowing where the attorney was going.
He smiled. "I apologize. Let me rephrase that question. When your husband left for training while you were in Wyoming, when did you talk to him?"
"Occasionally. He would call when he got the chance."
This time the attorney let out a small irritated smile. He knew what you were doing. "When did you see your husband again after he left you."
You sighed, knowing you weren't going to get out of this question. "Four years later."
The attorney seemed to seize on your response, sensing an opportunity to press further. "And during those four years, you had no communication with him?"
"Very little," you clarified. "We were both focused on our respective commitments, and the nature of his training meant limited contact."
The attorney nodded, as if your answer had confirmed something. "So, during that period, you had no indication of his personal feelings or concerns about the events that had transpired?"
"Correct," you replied. "Our communication was minimal, and any personal issues were not discussed extensively."
"So, your husband didn't know that you danced and kissed Doctor Stryker?"
You clenched your jaw. "I didn't kiss Doctor Stryker. He kissed me."
The opposing attorney’s eyes narrowed slightly as he absorbed your response. "So you're saying that during the time you were working with Dr. Stryker, there was no romantic involvement on your part?"
"That's correct," you said firmly. "Any personal interactions we had were purely professional or friendly, and any kiss that occurred was initiated by Dr. Stryker, not me."
The attorney seemed to weigh your response before continuing, "And after Dr. Stryker kissed you, how did you respond?"
"I made it clear that I was not interested in pursuing any romantic relationship," you explained. "My focus was on the work we were doing and my commitment to my marriage."
The attorney looked at you for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Seresin. No further questions."
Mr. Dunby stood up. "Dr. Seresin. How did you meet your husband?"
"We met at a bar in Austin."
Mr. Dunby continued, "And what was your relationship status before you went to Wyoming?"
"I was married and in a committed relationship."
Mr. Dunby nodded. "And when you left for Wyoming, was your relationship with your husband stable and supportive?"
"As much as it could be being married to a naval aviator," you affirmed.
Mr. Dunby smiled slightly, acknowledging the truth in your statement. "And during your time in Wyoming, did you ever communicate with your husband about your professional interactions with Dr. Stryker?"
"I did not."
Mr. Dunby nodded. "And why was that?"
You responded calmly, "Our communication was focused on maintaining our relationship and supporting each other through our respective challenges. Discussing professional interactions, particularly those with colleagues, was not a priority in our conversations."
Mr. Dunby continued, "Was your husband aware of the nature of your work with Dr. Stryker in Wyoming?"
"He knew I was working in Wyoming, but I did not discuss my work. My husband knows about his fighter jet and how it works. When it comes to veterinary medicine, it's like a foreign language to him."
Mr. Dunby smiled slightly at your response. "So, to clarify, while your husband was aware of your work and the fact that you were collaborating with Dr. Stryker, the specifics of your professional interactions were not a topic of discussion between you two?"
"Correct," you confirmed.
Mr. Dunby nodded, acknowledging your clarification. "And during your time in Wyoming, did you ever discuss personal matters, such as your marriage or any issues related to it, with Dr. Stryker?"
"No," you answered firmly. "My focus was solely on the research and maintaining professionalism."
"So, you didn't give any hint towards Dr. Stryker that you wanted a relationship with him?"
"No. After he tried to kiss me, my ranch hand kept me away from Dr. Stryker and I left for home."
"And after you went home, did you see or hear from Dr. Stryker again?"
"Not until a few months ago at the conference at A&M University."
"Oh? And what was said?"
"Dr. Stryker followed me outside and informed me that he had been thinking about me since then."
"And what was your response?"
"I told him that I was still married."
"And what did he say when you said that?"
"He was surprised I was wearing a wedding ring."
Mr. Dunby nodded thoughtfully, letting your response sink in with the courtroom. "So, Dr. Seresin, even after all these years, when Dr. Stryker saw you again, you immediately reaffirmed your commitment to your marriage?"
"Yes, I did," you replied confidently.
"And despite his surprise at seeing your wedding ring, did Dr. Stryker attempt to pursue anything further with you after that conversation?"
"No, he didn't," you stated firmly. "Until a few weeks ago when he kidnapped me from the hotel he was staying at here in Wyoming."
The courtroom erupted into a mix of gasps and murmurs, the sudden revelation catching everyone off guard. The judge banged his gavel to restore order.
Mr. Dunby quickly intervened, sensing the gravity of the situation. "Your Honor, may I suggest we take a brief recess?"
The judge considered Mr. Dunby's request, then nodded, understanding the need to defuse the tension. "Very well. We will take a brief recess. Court will reconvene in twenty minutes."
The judge banged his gavel once more, and the courtroom began to clear out.
Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891 @smoothdogsgirl
#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x you#glen powell#hangman#hangman top gun#top gun maverick hangman#hangman fanfic#top gun fanfic#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin#hangman x reader#top gun maverick#top gun hangman#jake hangman seresin x y/n#jake hangman fic#jake hangman x you
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#2 - being in awe by how small everything is on a child ('just look at these fingers? How can they be real?!')
clegan with josie ?? 🥹🥹
went in a bit of a diff direction for this but hope you like it! also researching for this is how i discovered wyoming only has 3 targets and none of them are in sheridan lololol. this is the store i plonked them in for this (:
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“This stuff feels real small, isn’t she four?” John remarked, pinching the edge of a shirt Gale had picked up off the rack to get a better look at it. Gale draped it over his arm to thumb at the tag in the neck.
“It's the size Natalie sent- she said she's tiny for her age."
John didn't miss the hint of a frown on his face as he spoke, doing a precursory glance around before he leaned in a little closer, rubbing at where the bottom of his sweatshirt met the label on his jeans.
Gale titled his head just a little against the side of John's, peering up at him with hint of wariness in his eyes. "You wanna go look at shoes?"
"Mhm," John said, knowing somewhere in his head that the task delegation was because he needed a minute alone. Not because Gale was thinking he had some sort of hidden children's shoes expertise.
Pressing a kiss to the side of his hair before he walked away, John let his hand linger on his back till he was far enough that it dropped off.
He couldn't blame Gale for wanting some space, even if it was itching at him that he probably needed to push him a little to talk about what exactly was rattling around his head. What he could practically see growing roots in his cortex right through his eyeballs, ever since Natalie had sent them more information about the little girl that would be theirs in a little less than forty-eight hours.
"Her mom got in trouble for gambling." Gale said, eyes not peeling away from his laptop screen where he sat at the kitchen table. John froze where he was getting a water from the fridge, feeling a tightness in his chest as if he could sense whatever emotions were coursing through Gale.
When he shut the fridge door and turned to face him he still hadn't moved his eyes from the screen, pressing hard on the touchpad to keep scrolling through the document- chewing on his bottom lip.
"Don't have to read through everything tonight, Gale," John tried, sitting back down in the chair opposite him, and sliding him the water he'd originally gotten for himself. 'We have time."
Gale listened, though the shutting of his laptop felt abrupt. He propped his elbow up on top of it, curling his fingers inward and pressing them against his forehead.
"You wanna talk about it?" John said, getting a sigh in response before he got any words.
"I just want her here," Gale admitted after a minute, reaching for his phone which was resting in his lap. "Do you think Natalie could arrange for us to get her sooner if we asked?
The answer to that was that Natalie was happy to- though it did mean they had a few days to get everything ready as opposed to two weeks.
John went back and forth on if he should've let Gale call or not.
"You gettin' our baby cowgirl boots?"
His husband's footsteps approached him from behind quick and light, John not realizing until then how long he had been standing there without actually picking out any shoes. He ducked his head down sheepishly, Gale patting the side of his hip with the hand that wasn't occupied holding a basket.
"Think we should?" He said when he'd come back to himself, scanning the area till he found the shelf for the size on the list they'd been sent.
When he grabbed a pair of boots Gale leaned over his shoulder to look at them closer, brushing his pointer finger gentle along the side of them.
"They're so little." He said quietly. "Gonna have feet this little stompin' around our house in a couple days,"
If he let it it'd make John uneasy, their emotional states having managed to somehow swap within the last few minutes.
But the lightness in Gale's tone now made the reality of it all feel just a bit less jarring.
(They got the boots.)
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okay hear me out…
joel and reader find their way back to Joel’s old house in Texas somehow. the angst. the drama. the COMFORT FROM READER TO JOEL MY HEART.
you’re breaking my heart here, kelp. this one hurt. i’m sorry it took me nothing short of a century to write, but i hope you enjoy this in some kind of way.
warnings/tags: set after tlou pt one timeline, established relationship, angst, grief, mentions of the death of a child, panic attack, hurt/comfort, the real birthday card sarah wrote joel from tlou game brb bawling. wc: 2.6k
Joel’s home in Texas sat at the end of a cul-de-sac.
The houses on the street were run down after decades of rain and sun making the wood deteriorate. The bodies of the buildings sagged as if they’d exhaled a breath one day, and never inhaled another. Your eyes wandered over them as you rode past, trying to imagine what the street had looked like all those years ago when Joel had lived there. Did your best to picture him cruising down the road in his truck, young and carefree, listening to the radio as he drove home from work. The idea made a small smile drift across your face, but it faded as you glanced back to him. He rode a few paces ahead of you, and his broad shoulders were tense, hinting that he was gripping the reins of his horse for dear life.
The pair of you had been travelling for something like a month, all the way from Wyoming, to reach this point. And for most of the trip, he’d remained the Joel you knew and loved. Quiet, and funny, with the warmest smile. But as you’d neared Texas state lines, he’d withdrawn. Started to shut you out; talking less and seldom laughing at your jokes. You knew it was hard for him, to return after so much time, and so you didn’t push him. But that didn’t mean your heart didn’t pang nervously as he pulled his horse to a halt outside of a house.
Closure, Tommy had called it.
“You gotta go back, Joel,” he’d said one night at the dining hall in Jackson. “Even if it’s just once. You owe it to yourself.”
It had taken months to convince his older brother. After three years living in Jackson, Joel had become so comfortable in his new life. He had come so far from being the man you’d heard stories about when he and Ellie first arrived in the settlement.
He’s dangerous, people would whisper. He’s killed people.
And at first, you’d feared him alongside the rest of your community. Until he wormed his way into your heart, and shared himself with you. Yes, he was dangerous, and yes, he had killed, that much you were aware of. But in time, he confided in you. Things about his past that he’d never been able to verbalise to anyone, whispered in your ear while hidden under the sheets of his bed. He trusted you, and you trusted him. And so when Tommy finally wore him down enough that he agreed to go back to Texas, he said he’d only go if you went with him.
“Just to see it,” Joel had said adamantly on the day you left Jackson, as the pair of you saddled your horses. “It’ll be nice just to see it.”
“Long way to go just to see it,” you’d said quietly, stomach twisting with an unfamiliar feeling. You knew what lay within his house in Texas. Knew what memories resided there, festering inside the walls. The ghosts of who he once was, of the life he was supposed to live. The memory of… her. The daughter he’d lost.
He talked about her more and more, the longer you knew him. Shared stories, confessed to you when things reminded him of her, and the way it made him feel. He dreamt about her often. A few mornings out of every month he would wake with a thin sheen of sweat on his face, muscles tense as he cried out for her, begged her to stay. And you would soothe him, brush the hair off his forehead and hold him, lulling him back to sleep with soft words in his ear and gentle kisses against his hairline.
Standing outside of the house, the thought flitted through your mind once more. Your eyes darted warily between the old property and him. Staring at the profile of his face, you tried to discern an emotion; tried to gage any hint of feeling there. But Joel’s face was blank, forehead smooth, mouth a thin line, as he tied the horses up.
Without a word, he was walking up the driveway toward the front door. Pulse quickening, you trailed behind on numb legs, hand gripping the gun holstered on your hip. If you hoped for anything, it was that infected weren’t holed up inside the house you’d travelled so far to see.
The front door gave way easily under his weight, and a cloud of dust exploded around the pair of you as you stepped past the threshold. And it was… a house. No, a home. No sounds came from within, no rustling or footsteps or clicking. It seemed uninhabited. Safe. You stood behind Joel, waiting for his signal.
Joel cleared his throat, peering around with a tense jaw. “Look around. See if we can find anything useful to take back with us.” You noticed he didn’t refer to Jackson as home.
He wandered slowly through the lower level of the house, not touching anything at first, as if he were hesitant to lay his hands over the things that had once been his possessions. You watched him silently, carefully, allowing him to take the lead. And when he ducked through a set of double doors into a different room, you couldn’t help but analyse the space, how things had been left, all those years ago.
The place was clearly well-lived in. A few plates and bowls rested in the sink, a mug on the counter. A DVD rested on a coffee table by the couch, some 80s action flick with two guys on the cover. Curtis and Viper 2, it read in bold red lettering, This time it’s a family affair. You smiled curiously but didn’t pick it up to read the back.
Rustling came from the doors Joel was behind, and you figured you should start looking around as well. You padded heavily up the stairs, dush and grime loosing into the air as your boots worked against the old carpet. The landing was large, and you could see a few doorways from where you stood. Peeking through the first one, you saw a large bed, a TV mounted on the wall, and a treadmill. You huffed quietly, trying to picture a world in which Joel would run on a machine while watching television. The image was difficult to conjure.
“Y’find anything?” Joel’s gruff voice carried up the stairs.
“Not yet,” you hollered.
“Check the bathroom,” he called. “Might be some painkillers in there. Old antibiotics maybe.”
“On it.”
You moved further down the hall, nudging your boot against a closed door before peering in.
Posters covered the walls, dusty and faded from years of sunlight shining in the window. A double bed with blueish green covers, two sets of drawers. And pictures… so many pictures, tacked against the pink walls, depicting smiling, happy faces. Some that you’d come to know well, and one that you’d never seen before.
Stepping further into the room, you stared at the photograph stuck above her bedhead. It was of Tommy and Joel, with a small girl tucked underneath his arm, her arms wrapped around his middle as she beamed at the camera. Sarah. You swallowed down the ball of emotion that had settled in your throat.
“Found some scissors and tape,” Joel hollered, and you gave a half-hearted shout of acknowledgement in return.
Your lungs tightened, and suddenly your breathing was shorter, the knowledge that you were standing in his daughter’s room almost suffocating you. You turned quickly, with every intention of leaving the room, until something on the dresser opposite her bed caught your eye.
A small, faded card. White paper that had yellowed and faded over the years, that had a cartoon drawing of a dinosaur wearing a party hat across the front. The word ‘CONGRATULATIONS!’ was scrawled in red print below it.
Your fingers ghosted across the paper, feeling the thinness of it; the delicate fragility of something that hadn’t been touched by another human being in over twenty years. Careful not to cause any damage, you opened it. Your eyes turned blurry as they trailed over the words scribbled on the card.
Dear Dad, Let’s see… you’re never around, you hate the music I’m into, you practically despise the movies I like, and yet somehow you still manage to be the best dad every year. How do you do that? Happy Birthday, Pops! Sarah.
A tear rolled off your chin and landed on your shirt, leaving a dark stain. You sniffled sharply, wiping the wet sensation from your face. The flimsy paper shook in your grip, and you found yourself anxious that it would disintegrate at any moment.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Joel’s voice was steely, low. You flinched, the card tumbling out of your hand and back onto the chest. Your partner loomed tall in the doorway, staring you down. His face was thunderous, expression a mask of fury that you’d never expected to have directed at you, in this lifetime or the next. Dark eyes glared at you, as his mouth twisted into a snarl, lip curled up to reveal gritted teeth.
“Joel,” you breathed, wiping furiously at your cheeks again to remove any sign that you’d been crying. “I’m sorry, I was jus-“
“Why are you touching her things?”
You noticed his eyes never moved off you. He didn’t dare look around the room, her room. “I’m sorry,” you repeated feebly. “I didn’t- I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”
He diverted his gaze, staring down at what you had dropped.
“What is that?” he asked. His voice was quieter, softer. It was like every one of his features pinched together in the middle of his face, and he took a slow step into the room.
“It’s a card,” you told him, slowly reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder. He met your gaze, silently asking you to tell him more without him having to ask. “The birthday card she wrote for you. I’m sorry, I know it’s personal and I shouldn’t ha—”
“She never gave me a birthday card that year.”
“What?”
“No card. Just the watch.”
Your eyesight blurred as you stared at him. He moved slowly, as if he had to beg his limbs to work and even then, they dragged along the ground. When he picked it up, the card looked so small in his large hands. Long, dirt-stained fingers gripped the withered paper, splaying it open so he could read it.
And for a moment, everything was still. No movement, no sound, nothing could interrupt the way his eyes danced along the messy handwriting, devouring every letter. A few minutes passed, and you realised he was reading it over and over again. His chest began to rise and fall faster, as short sharps breaths rattled in and out of his lungs.
“Joel,” you whispered, voice hoarse with emotion.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and you shook your head and took a hesitant step towards him, but you were too slow.
His knees buckled, and he dropped onto the carpet with a heavy thud. You cursed, crouching beside him to get a better look at his face. Silent tears streamed from his eyes, rolling down the hills of his cheekbones before disappearing into his beard. His chapped lips quivered as he silently mouthed the words written on the card, not meeting your eye. You placed a hand on his back and stifled the sound of despair that worked its way up your throat.
“Joe—”
“My baby girl,” he choked out, finally looking at you.
“I know,” you hushed desperately, rubbing soft circles on his back. “I know.”
“N-never saw this,” Joel grunted. It seemed painful for him to speak, and his left hand reached up to press against his chest. Fear spiked inside you, and your hand tightened on his back. “She never—” he paused, upper body swaying.
His mouth was downturned, low breathy sobs escaping his lips as he tried to regain control of his body. But it was out of his control, and you could see the fear crawling under his skin as memories of Sarah wormed through his brain, and twisted his insides.
“I know,” you repeated gently. “I need you to breathe, Joel. Can you hear me?” he nodded faintly, fingertips crinkling the corner of the card where he held it. “Need you to breathe with me now. Slowly, in and out, like this. Don’t go passing out on me.”
He shook his head quickly, but copied the sound of your exaggerated breaths, sucking in air before expelling it heavily. “My girl,” he muttered, and you nodded, kissing his shoulder quickly. “I failed her, I—"
“No,” you said sharply, and finally he looked at you. Bloodshot, grief-stricken eyes stared at you as you shook your head. “You did everything you could. She said it herself, you’re the best dad. She loves you so much, Joel, I can feel it.” His chest shook, and he was silent, breathing heavily as he absorbed your words. You rested your hand atop the one on his chest, slotting your fingers in-between his. His heartbeat thudded aggressively against his sternum, vibrating against your hands.
He squeezed your fingers painfully tight, closing his eyes. “I wish I could just—” he gasped quietly, voice rattling. “Wish I could see her, need to see her.”
You dropped to your knees, pressing your back against his shoulder and cradling him in your arms as he shook. You pressed your hand firmer against his.
“Right here,” you whispered. “This is where it is – her love for you. She’s here, every single day, every second, you just have to let yourself feel it.”
“I don’t know how,” he said desperately. You soothed him quietly, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as he leant heavier against you. “I don’t think I can.”
“You can,” you murmured against his hair, feeling the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. “I’m here, let me help you.”
For a while, the pair of you stayed like that. Resting on the carpet in his daughter’s bedroom, leaning against each other’s as a thick silence blanketed you.
You didn’t move a muscle until he said he wanted to leave, and watched him pack the things he’d found into a bag, keenly aware of the way he slid the card between the pages of a thick book and tucked it into the bag as well, careful not to crease it.
Joel was quiet as you left the house, quiet as you untied the horses. Quiet as he rode down the street, with you a few paces behind, heading away from the cul-de-sac, the broken-down houses, Curtis and Viper 2, and the pictures on Sarah’s bedroom wall. For a few days, he didn’t say much at all, and most nights on the trip back to Jackson, as the pair of you settled in your sleeping bags to rest, he would look. He would wait until he thought you were asleep, and then you’d hear him take the book out of his bag, flipping through the pages until he found the birthday card, so he could read her words once more.
And you weren’t naïve. You knew that a part of him would forever be broken, after Sarah’s death. A hole in his heart that nothing and no one could mend – not a second daughter, nor a relationship. But so long as you lived, you knew you would be there, right behind him. To hold him and remind him to feel that love; to breathe it in, to savour Sarah’s love and kindness in his heart, in the hopes that remembering the light would help shut out a little of the darkness.
#joel miller#joel miller angst#joel miller hurt/comfort#joel miller fanfiction#my writing#back to texas#request
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The Wrong Way: Chapter 5
Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)
Masterlist
Spotify playlist
Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?
Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction
WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death
New character alert! Face claim, of course, is Oscar Isaac, specifically his look in Drive 🥰
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Dandelion
A million little wishes float across the sky
But it's a waste of breath and it's a waste of time I know
Cause just like him, you always leave me cryin' dandelion~Danelion, Kacey Musgraves
“So then Luke goes to Dangobah to find Yoda”
“Wait, whose Yoda? Is that another Jedee?”
“Jedi, but yes”
“Why?”
“Old Ben told him to”
“Isn’t he dead?”
“Yes, but he came to Luke at the start of this movie?”
“What? When?”
“When Luke was in the cave”
“Are we sure he wasn’t hallucinating?”
“I- No, no it was Ben. Jedi can come back in visions, like ghosts”
“Well, that’s awfully convenient”
“The force makes a lot of things convenient”
Joel was doing as he promised, explaining the Star Wars movies you had never had a chance to watch so you could understand the collection of comics he had found. You weren’t particularly interested in the comics, but they seemed to excite him, so you were going to read them, hoping to continue in conversation about it. This was the first time you two had talked about anything other than The Horrors for longer than a short back and forth, in fact, this was the only piece of personality or hints of before he had given you, the rest you had gleaned from Tommy. Joel was curled up with you on your mattress, having held you close all day yesterday and last night, and after what happened with Nick, after all Joel did for you, you happily accepted it. Joel had been soft before, absolutely, but not like this, and never this long… it bordered on Tommy territory. Slowly, you noticed little similarities, small phrases or mannerism that said yeah, these two are brothers, despite the drastic differences.
He played with your hair as he laid with you, tender in his touch, it was damn near domestic you almost forget where you are.
“Do you wanna go outside? Go for a walk?” Joel asks, his voice strangely soft in your ear.
You can’t help but smile at that. “That would be nice, thank you.”
Joel instructs you to stay put, and goes into his room and comes back with shoes he must’ve gotten and kept hidden from you; you’d get farther if you ran away wearing shoes. He knelt down beside you, lacing them up and tying them for you. He, of course held your hand tightly the entire time.
He asked if you wanted to see him. You knew what he meant.
Joel had kept him strung up, hanging from the oak tree, and although you had seen many horrific things in your short time on this god forsaken planet, the sight of a man you knew, hanged, skinned and swaying in the crisp spring Wyoming breeze… this was one of the worst. Somehow, however, you couldn’t find yourself feeling any guilt. Nick had done what he did knowing full well what Joel was capable of. The risk he took was calculated, but like you, it seems he couldn’t do math.
You felt Joel slide up behind you, unsurprisingly hard, no doubt recalling last night as his hands slide around your middle, his lips beginning to graze your neck and you couldn't help but remember how he had fucked you while telling you the graphic things he had done to your rapist.. “Do you still wanna cut off his dick?” He nudges your eyes to Joel’s switchblade still in Nick’s heart.
The idea was sexy while Joel was fucking you, but the reality of it was, frankly... Icky. “Can you?”
He kisses your cheek. “Happily.” Joel directs you, his long arms reach around, taking the blade out of his naked body and, with the aid of rigor mortis, he swiftly cut off the bastards dick. Stabbing the switchblade back into Nicks cold chest, Nick’s cock between the blade and his skin. “Feeling better, little one?” His arms are quickly back to you, the hand that held the switchblade playing above the line of your sweatpants.
“Yes, Joel” You sighed, leaning your head back into him as his hand went between your legs. You did feel better actually. The whole situation you were in was fucked, but you did feel better…
He began finger fucking you, and although you realize he hadn’t washed his hands since skinning Nick, you weren't bothered. You were about to fuck about two feet away from a rotting corpse... “Let's go back to the house.”
“No” You whispered, and Joel looked at you curiously. “Here.” You get yourself situated against the tree trunk, and you swore you heard Joel chuckle; he had you whipped.
“Good girl” He adjusted you as needed, you brace against the tree Nick was hanging from, his body feet from you, and Joel pushed your ass out, pulling down your pants before slamming into you. “Good fucking girl” He pace was immediately hard and fast, and at this angle you swore…
“Joel.”
He didn’t stop. “Hm?“
You grab his hand, placing it over your stomach, where he could very very clearly feel himself entering you, his hard cock protruding out your stomach. “You feel that Joel?”
The hand on your hip was painfully tight, he growled and bite into your neck. “Fuck, fuck baby, you like me pounding you like this? Out in the open where anyone can see you?”
“Yes” You whine, having to rest your face on the rough bark, sweat prickling at your skin even in the cold, his hands making you feel so, so warm. “I know you’ll protect me”
He moved one hand to the tree trunk, protecting your face from the scratches, his other moving to your clit, although right now you were certain he could make you cum just from just dick right now. “I’ll always protect you, little girl, always. Won’t let nothing bad happen to you ever again.” The irony was clearly lost on him, seeing as most of your suffering was at his hands but, fuck, if it wasn’t starting to get lost on you too… He was so tender when he wanted to be, the good was so, so good, and the sex… fucking hell. He pulled your ass out a little more and suddenly you were blinded, a brand new feeling making you cry out “Right there, pretty girl? Stay still, I’ll take care of you. Look at him” Joel turned your face to the decomposing body next to you. “Look at him, little one, I’ll always take care of you”
Why did this always make you feel so fucking warm? “I know, Joel, I know, J-Joel, fuck!” You rest your face fully on his large, veiny hand, protecting you from the tree, protecting you from Nick, protecting you from everything…
For a few weeks, things go better than they had been for years. Sex with Joel kept getting better and better, and he was opening up more. Not much from before, just little bits like telling you the plots of his favorite movies… you hadn’t been in his room, nor Tommy’s… Tommy had shifted a bit too. He was more and more affectionate with you, with the door closed of course… He held you in his arms, missing you brother, or when you called out to him in the middle of the night from nightmares and he pulled you onto his lap and cradled you when you cried… sometimes he went away from days on work as trusting more that Joel wouldn’t hurt you again and none of the men would dare. You were on dangerous waters, you knew, but sometimes you could only sleep when you smelled Tommy’s skin… but again, dangerous.
That’s why, when no one came into your room with breakfast, or lunch, or to spend time with you or fuck you… you were worried. Not as worried as you were when the door finally opened and a new face appeared with food.
You scramble to stand up, images of Nick and early days of Joel flashing in your head, and you open your mouth to scream for Tommy, but he cuts you off.
“Relax, sweetheart, Nick’s body is still rotting out there, I’m not tryna match him.” He spoke with a thick accent you’d heard before; your brother, Zach, had said it was from somewhere east, one of the big cities, but wasn’t sure where.
“What do you want?” You ask, still shaking.
He set down the food. “Tommy’s paying me to feed you today”
You narrow your eyes at the sandwich. “You’re not doing very well, missed a meal.”
He shrugged with a small, smug smile. “Didn’t pay me enough for that.” He watched you still eying the food suspiciously “You wanna talk to him?”
“Where is he? Where’s Joel…” You can’t imagine they would let a random man in your room if one was able to do this…
“Food poisoning, we think.”
You look at the sandwich again. “I’m not eating that”
He laughed, obnoxiously loud. “Smart girl. Come on, you can make yourself something” He nudged out the door.
You couldn’t help perk up at that. You get to leave? You get to make your own food? You weren’t sure who the man was, but you were happy to take the little bit of independence. You wouldn’t do anything that would make Joel mad, just put together a sandwich or heat up some soup! How strange your life had become that these were the little pleasures.
The man watched you intently as you managed to make some soup. He was short; taller than you still, but short none the less, a few inches under Tommy. His hair was buzzed as was his beard, dark hair to match dark skin, and large eyes that watched you like a bug.
It was fun, cooking again… You had rather enjoyed when you still were living with your dad, your mom taught you well, you were a good cook… you wondered if Joel might let you cook more… you save soup for them when they were feeling better, maybe they’d like it enough you could continue? You toast some bead on a frying pan, demand (well, ask, but with a little force) to see Joel.
When you tentatively peaked through the cracked door and Joel saw you, his eyes went wide and you saw he was about to get up, no doubt thinking you got loose, so you opened the door to reveal the strange new man you hadn’t seen around the house before. “It’s okay, he’s with me. I wanted to check on you… can I come in?” Joel lays back down, tentatively, obviously not thrilled about being seen in a vulnerable position. He was clearly sick, his tanned skin looking pale, his eyes bleary and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him… even as you placed your hand on your hip, feeling the JM etched into your skin… a reminder of what he could do… You kneel down before him with the toast. “Can you try and eat some of this for me?”
He shakes his head. “I feel like shit”
Opting to sit by him, you gently play with his hair. He looked so young like this… “I know, sweetie… but you gotta try and eat… keep up your strength. Toast won’t be so bad on your stomach…” You try to coax, and look up to see the man watching you, eying you… was he confused, wondering how the little kidnapped girl was playing nurse to her capture… but he wouldn’t understand. You weren’t sure you could explain it yourself… but this was the position you were in, and you were doing what you could…
“What are you doing?” He grumbles, taking a small bite.
“I’m helping you”
“Why”
Great question. “Because you help me”
“I hurt you” another bite.
You were taken aback by that, absolutely… he was right, he did… “But you can also be so, so good to me.”
He wouldn’t look at you. “I don’t deserve you”
You sigh, just a little bit… deserve wouldn’t be the word… but you wouldn’t say he didn’t deserve you… he was good to you, wasn’t he? He fed you, brought you nice things, little treats, he treated you good in bed… maybe he deserved you? He did everything right… how you got here didn’t really matter, and he was right, months ago, this was better than the strange men that mouth raped you and beat you senseless… he took you away from all that, he made a better life for you… in a way, he saved you.
“You do deserve me, Joel.” You kiss his forehead, hair stuck to it with sweat from the food poisoning. “I’m gonna check on Tommy, then I’ll be back to nurse you back to health, okay?”
Joel smiled at that. “Okay, little one”
A groggy Tommy looked at you and the man, then flopped his head back down on his pillow. “I see you met Lorenzo”
So that was his name. “Yeah, when he finally decided to bring me food.”
Tommy groans. “I told you to feed her, not bring her here”
Getting on the bed, you brush Tommy’s long hair away from his face. “It’s fine, I saw Joel, he’s okay with it as long as he watches me.”
Tommy couldn’t even open his eyes. “I feel awful, honey. Fucking awful. Never eating chicken again”
You can’t help but laugh a bit as he groaned on about how much he ‘odia pollo’ as you coax him into eating a bit of toast.
You spend the day helping the Millers feel better, whipping their faces with a cool clothes, feeding them bites they could eat, cleaning up the bowls they puked in, all while Lorenzo trailed around you, no doubt in charge of making sure you didn’t run away… you couldn’t help but admit you like this, you liked taking care of them, even if you couldn’t be as affectionate with Tommy as you wanted to. The other men, it seems, were all out sick, leaving just you and Lorenzo, and of course, like everything, it was a deliberate move… There were no coincidences.
Of all the things you expected to see as you rounded the corner back to the kitchen after having left Tommy’s side, your brother was not one of them.
“Zach.” He was alive, Joel didn’t kill him… but how had Tommy not known- oh. Tommy knew. He had to have, as did Joel. They would have begun collecting from your dad again, they had no know...
He rushed over to you, taking you in his loving arms that held you so many times before, whispering your name. “Thank god you’re okay”
You blink, brain still trying to catch up. “Wha- what are you doing here?”
Zach begins to pull you away, towards the door. “I’m rescuing you, we’re leaving”
Leaving? To go where? No doubt he had a plan, but he had no idea, no idea what happened, what things were like now, how bad they had been but it had gotten so, so much better. You stop. “Zach wait!” You whisper harshly, and he turns around at you, confused.
“I have somewhere to go, I got a plan, it’s okay, everything will be fine, I promise”
You believed he believed it… but there were 1000 things in your head right now. First, if you leave and Joel finds you… he might actually kill you, but the things he would do to you if he didn’t were much worse. Secondly, “He’ll kill you, Zach.”
“He won’t catch-”
“He won’t let me go! He won’t drop it! He will hunt me down as long as it takes and skin you alive like the last man!”
You could see the fear in his eyes as he hushed you, grabbing your arm. “Shut up, or he’ll kill us both! Just, god, just trust me. No one will notice until morning, we’ll be hours ahead.”
You stayed firmly in place… there was the third reason you wanted to stay… the fact you’d grown comfortable here, the fact you were, despite your better judgment, falling in love with both of the men here and- wait, where was Lorenzo? “I can’t, Zach. You don’t know what he’s capable of”
Rolling his eyes like only a brother would, he tugged you. “Of course I-”
You pull down your pants just enough on the side, revealing the brand. “He did this the last time I tried to leave, fucked me on the table in front of all the other men, then left me there for them to all rape!” You didn’t tell him that Tommy had saved you, that Tommy had tucked you in and how tenderly Joel had treated you the next day, how both had bandaged you up, cared for you, even though you had been so bad. “It’s calmed down, he doesn’t hurt me, I have more freedom… I don’t want to throw this away”
Zach was panged, desperate, eyes watering as he tried to take you away from what you knew he thought of as your hell, but was truly where you had felt most at home since your mothers death. “I won’t let him hurt you again, I’ll protect you.”
“Like you protected me against dad?” It came out fast than you’d expected, no chance to block it… it wasn’t fair, you couldn’t and didn’t blame Zach for that but it was true. Joel saved you, cared for you, Joel killed men that hurt you… Joel wasn’t who you needed to be protected from, Joel was the one who protected you. You yank your hand away from your crying brother. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t blame you… but I’m staying”
He opened his mouth to argue, but all that came out was a desperate 'please'. You shake your head. You belonged with the Millers now. “You change your mind, you find a way to escape, I’ll be at the ranch, and I swear to god I will keep you safe this time.”
Now you were crying too as you went to hug him. “Thank you, Zach” Alone in the kitchen, you back up against the fridge, sink down, and cry, cry, cry… keep crying until Lorenzo appeared in the doorway
“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”
Of course. Of course you didn’t avoid the shitshow. “Okay so you saw that. You gonna tell Joel, rank up, get whatever it is you want.” You sniffle as he leans against the doorway, crossing his arms.
“No, I already got my payment for this shitshow“ You look up at him, wet and puffy eyes telling him to go on. “He paid me to give everyone food poisoning so you guys could leave, and you fucking wasted it. No skin off my back, but Jesus. You know, pre-outbreak, we had a word for girls like you, who stayed with men who beat them”
“Joel doesn’t-”
“You wanna know what that word is?”
You sigh. “Wha-”
“Dumb bitches”
Lorenzo was pissing you the fuck off, but there was something else that was pushing your repressed anger up… You stand, shoving Lorenzo aside and storm down the hall to Tommy’s room, bursting in.
He smiled lazily up at you as you close the door. “Hey honey, the tea helped-”
“You fucking knew” Pointing dramatically at his sick figure on the bed, you watch the confusion on his face. “What? What did I know?”
“That my brother is alive, asshole!”
As he slowly realizes whats happening, he forces himself to sit up, despite the dizziness and nausea, his hand open palmed and out towards you. “Okay, just relax, tell me what happ-”
You were angrier that perhaps you had a right to be, feeling betrayed and hurt by the man you had trusted, however foolishly. “Don’t use your ‘Calm down Joel’ voice on me! You knew my brother was alive and you didn’t tell me!”
He almost argues. He almost says no, no I didn’t know, this is news to me too… but you’ve already figured it out. “If you knew he was alive, you’d try to leave again, and you’d get caught, and God knows what he’ll do to you if you run away” his eyes were pleading with you to understand, but he was not asking for forgiveness… you knew he’d do it again.
You step closer. “How many times did you hold me while I cried, missing him, wanting him-”
“That’s just it!” He stands now, towering over you, but you know him better than to think it’s a threat, so you don’t back away and simply look up at him, glaring. “You wanted to be with him, and I couldn’t let that happen”
“So you kept me away from my family, because you’d miss me?”
“No it’s because you’d be dead!”
You shake your head, not quite believing his motivations… “I don’t think so. I think you want to stay because you just want me here so you can play knight in shining armor”
Wide-eyed and hurt, he looks down at you. “No, that’s not it-”
In your anger, you shove him; it doesn’t go very far considering his sturdy stance and strong shoulders, but the action caused what you wanted it to. It hurt his feelings. “Fuck you, Tommy”
Tommy put his hands on your shoulders, not backing down despite the wave of nausea threatening him. “Honey, I swear to you, I’m just trying to help, all I wanted to do this whole time was help you.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you couldn’t pull away from his touch yet; you never could. “Fuck. You!”
Frustration boiled over before the vomit did. “What is the big deal! Joel knew too!” At that, he gently pushed you back as he dropped to his knees, violently throwing up in his trash can, his whole body wracked into heaves. He did the hard part for you; you weren't sure if you were strong enough to disengage his touch.
You watch him, wanting so badly to kneel by his side, to rub his back and keep his hair out of the puke as you had done all day today… but you couldn’t. You need to have something, something, for your anger to hold onto, even if it was Tommy, even if it was just for a night. “You are the one I was supposed to trust!” You scream, not caring who heard you. “I was supposed to be able to believe in you, but you held me as I screamed, and cried and you didn’t tell me! Fuck! You!” Your face was soaked as you screamed, screamed at Tommy for every rape, every violation, every beating and branding that he had only every tried to save you from, and took it out on him for one small thing that he actually did. Because he was Tommy, because he was supposed to be different.
And because he was Tommy, he let you.
You slammed the door when you left.
Lorenzo was in the hall, watching you with crossed arms as you left Tommy for Joel’s room, muttering again about you being a dumb bitch, but you don't care.
Joel’s room was dark; he didn’t open his eyes, and for a moment you thought he was asleep and began to retreat away when he spoke.
“Come on in, little one”
You slink through the door, closing it behind you. “Can I sleep here tonight?”
He opened his eyes at that. Today was the first day you had even seen his room, did he even want you in it? You watched him consider, before opening up his blanket for you. With a smile, you crawl in, and he tightly wraps you up in the blanket and his arms where you were growing more and more comfortable.
“Everything okay? I heard yell’n. Couldn’t tell if I was dream’n or not.” He asked, sleepily, nestling his face into your neck.
You considered the options… best to not lie completely. Safe and secure in Joel, despite the chaos of today, you began to relax in him. “Yeah, Tommy just pissed me off, that's all”
You could feel Joel smile against your skin.
****************
Not nearly as high drama as the last few by next week we're back!!!
I've seen a few of you saying you have theories and i want you to know I WANNA HERE ALL YOU'RE THEORIES!!!! Drop them in my ask box so i can share them with the class and everyone csn share their thoughts!
Also as I stated above, I GOT A PLAYLIST GOING! if you have a song you think matches, comment or send in an ask and ill add it if i think t fits!
Also, i've moved to 10 chapters + the alt ending for the series! I'd love to here all thoughts and theories you have <3
Thank you alllllll for the reblogs and all the kind words!!!! It really means the world to me
LMK if you'd like to join the tag list!
@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega @primosworld @marclovers @threeheadedlamb @secretwriterpp @the-fox-den
@bitchyglitterfox @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lunar-ghoulie
#Joel Miller#Joel Miller smut#tw rape#dub con#non con#dark joel miller#romana after dark#dark!Joel#the last of us hbo#joel miller fic#joel miller reader#joel miller reade smut#dark joel miller reader#joel miller you#joel miller x reader#fem!reader#fem reader#tommy miller reader#tommy miller fem reader#tommy miller fem!reader
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The Cowboy by James Tate
source and transcript under the cut
Someone had spread an elaborate rumor about me, that I was in possession of an extraterrestrial being, and I thought I knew who it was. It was Roger Lawson. Roger was a practical joker of the worst sort, and up till now I had not been one of his victims, so I kind of knew my time had come. People parked in front of my house for hours and took pictures. I had to draw all my blinds and only went out when I had to. Then there was a barrage of questions. “What does he look like?” “What do you feed him?” “How did you capture him?” And I simple denied the presence of an extraterrestrial in my house. And, of course, this excited them all the more. The press showed up and started creeping around my yard. It got to be very irritating. More and more came and parked up and down the street. Roger was working overtime on this one. I had to do something. Finally, I made an announcement. I said, “The little fellow died peacefully in his sleep at 11:02 last night.” “Let us see the body,” they clamored. “He went up in smoke instantly,” I said. “I don’t believe you,” one of them said. “There is no body in the house or I would have buried it myself,” I said. About half of them got in their cars and drove off. The rest of them kept their vigil, but more solemnly now. I went out and bought some groceries. When I came back about an hour later another half of them had gone. When I went into the kitchen I nearly dropped the groceries. There was a nearly transparent fellow with large pink eyes standing about three feet tall. “Why did you tell them I was dead? That was a lie,” he said. “You speak English,” I said. “I listen to the radio. It wasn’t very hard to learn. Also we have television. We get all your channels. I like cowboys, especially John Ford movies. They’re the best,” he said. “What am I going to do with you?” I said. “Take me to meet a real cowboy. That would make me happy,” he said. “I don’t know any real cowboys, but maybe we could find one. But people will go crazy if they see you. We’d have press following us everywhere. It would be the story of a century,” I said. “I can be invisible. It’s not hard for me to do,” he said. “I’ll think about it. Wyoming or Montana would be our best bet, but they’re a long way from here,” I said. “Please, I won’t cause you any trouble,” he said. “It would take some planning,” I said. I put the groceries down and started putting them away. I tried not to think of the cosmic meaning of all this. Instead, I treated him like a smart little kid. “Do you have any sarsaparilla?” he said. “No, but I have some orange juice. It’s good for you,” I said. He drank it and made a face. “I’m going to get the maps out,” I said. “We’ll see how we could get there.” When I came back he was dancing on the kitchen table, a sort of ballet, but very sad. “I have the maps,” I said. “We won’t need them. I just received word. I’m going to die tonight. It’s really a joyous occasion, and I hope you’ll help me celebrate by watching The Magnificent Seven,” he said. I stood there with the maps in my hand. I felt an unbearable sadness come over me. “Why must you die?” I said. “Father decides these things. It is probably my reward for coming here safely and meeting you,” he said. “But I was going to take you to meet a real cowboy,” I said. “Let’s pretend you are my cowboy,” he said.
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Cubs, Mama Bear is crying this morning - tears of joy and gratitude and just this overwhelming feeling of belonging and community and just overwhelming goodness. It’s a lot and I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to see it when it flipped, but here it is.
After less than a year, y’all have helped “Learning to Walk” reach 10,000 hits. This is so incredible, and words are just failing me. Now listen, I understand what this means - it means that there has been at least mild curiosity 10,000 times since it was first posted. Nothing like this has happened with my other stories and this one… this one is different. And I honestly didn’t think it would take off like it did!
The initial concept of this story was born during November 2023 while I was struggling to write another story. Reading “Flying to Wyoming” also planted the seed for this concept: what if Joel met Ellie when she was a little older. In FtW, Joel internally comments several times that he wished she was just a little younger so he’d never look at her, or just a little older so he wouldn’t feel overwhelming guilt when he looked at her.
Enter the first chapters of LtW. 16-year-old Ellie escapes the burning Denver QZ and seeks refuge in an abandoned radio station in Wyoming. She’s recused by Joel who’s been living in the mountains outside of Jackson, trying to escape his own problems.
111k words and nine months later and LtW has turned into a multi part series that I’m planning to resume in early 2025. And with that in mind, I also want to celebrate LtW’s 10k hits!
I’m currently writing a portion of a chapter from the second story that I’m going to share as a sneak peek in the coming days. It will give a glimpse into Joel and Ellie’s lives as they navigate their future while living in and repairing Joel’s mountain cabin. Joel is helping Ellie while she struggles with her PTSD, Ellie is trying to move on from her attack, and a visitor comes to the mountains as winter fades to spring.
Thank you all for reading, loving and commenting on this story. I have loved sharing it with you as well as discussing my writing process and analyzing the characters and plot along the way. I hope you’re ready for more because another adventure is coming!
🫶🏻
#mama bear speaks#ltw ao3#10k hit celebration#joellie#ellie x joel#joel x ellie#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#ao3 fic
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The Thrill of kill you| BAU x Unsub Reader
summary: This is all from Hotchs POV. Mentions of SA (not graphic). Mentions of murder. Cat Adams is brought up in this chapter.
Chapter three: No distance left to run:
Everyone wanted this case to be over and done with. We had just caught Cat Adams, and everyone was still very protective over Garcia and Reid. However, whoever was killing these men wasn’t targeting us, but rather people they thought were guilty of certain crimes. Garcia was keeping tracks to see if any other murders were happening with the same motive, but nothing so far.
We all kept going over evidence, no stone was going unturned. All these men were killed in wooded areas, places that people would normally go hunting. Their bodies weren’t hidden, but they weren’t placed in plain sight. The killer obviously wanted the bodies to be found, but not to quickly so they had time to escape. The person who was doing this was very skilled, they knew everything they needed to know before killing and once they had completed the job, they just left.
“Hotch, what are the chances that this person is just a hitman? I mean, all these men had targets on their back.” Asked Emily.
“It’s possible,” I replied, “but the fact that all the victims were accused of sexual assault leads me to believe that this is personal for the killer.”
We continued to brainstorm, trying to find any possible lead that we could follow. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were missing something crucial, something that could break the case wide open. And then it hit me – we had been so focused on finding the killer in Montana that we hadn’t considered the possibility that there could be multiple killers.
“Garcia, can you look into the possibility of there being more than one killer?” I asked.
“Already on it, boss,” Garcia replied.
Days passed as we waited for Garcia’s results. We continued to work on the case, but it felt like we were just going through the motions. Then, finally, Garcia came through with a breakthrough.
“Okay, so here’s the deal,” Garcia said excitedly. “I did some digging and found out that there’s a slight possibility that we are looking for two people, but I doubt it. Each murder, apart from one, is done the exact same way, no changes. But there is one, a Mr O’Stevens, from around five years ago. His wife received a letter from the killer telling her what her husband had done and that she would never see her husband alive again. After, no more letters. I think the first kill was personal, but now the killer is seeking revenge for other victims.”
My mind was reeling from Garcia's revelation. It made sense. The first kill was personal, but the subsequent murders were done in revenge for other victims of sexual assault. The killer was taking matters into their own hands, seeking justice for those who couldn't get it through the legal system.
We needed to track down this killer or killers before they struck again. We started reviewing all the evidence, looking for any connections or patterns that we might have missed. We needed to catch a break in the case, and soon.
As we were going through the evidence, we received a call from a local police department in Wyoming. They had just found the body of a man who had been accused of sexual assault. He had been killed in the same way as the other victims. The killer was on the move again.
We knew then that we had to act fast. The unsub did not wait around, we knew they weren’t going to be in this state for very long and we had no idea which state they would next show up in.
We mobilized the team and rushed to the scene in Wyoming, hoping to catch a glimpse of the killer or any clues that might lead us to them. The crime scene was in a remote area, deep in the woods. As we approached, we could see the flashing lights of the police cars and the yellow tape cordoning off the area. The body had already been removed, but we needed to see the scene for ourselves to get a sense of what we were dealing with.
We stepped out of the car and were immediately hit with the smell of pine and death. The forest was quiet, as if it was holding its breath, waiting for us to make a move. We approached the scene, flashing our badges to the officers guarding the perimeter. They let us in, and we started to look around.
There nothing out of the ordinary. The crime scene looked like every other one. This unsub was good, professional and knew how to escape undetected. They weren’t going to make it easy for us, and there were most definitely going to more bodies in the future.
I couldn't help but feel frustrated. We were running out of time. There was no telling when the killer would strike again or where they would target their next victim. We needed to find something, anything, that would give us a lead on the unsub.
As we were searching the area, Reid suddenly shouted, "Hey, guys! Over here!"
We all rushed over to where he was, and he pointed to the ground. There, amidst the dirt and leaves, was a small piece of paper.
I picked it up and examined it closely. It was a note, written in messy handwriting. It read: "Justice for the victims. More will come. You can't stop me."
This was the first time the unsub had done something like this, and they were smart. It wasn’t handwritten, there was no evidence of fingerprints on the paper. Why would they start this now though? Did they want to be caught; did they know we were after them?
We needed to act fast before the killer struck again. We knew that this note was a taunt, a challenge to us from the killer. They were telling us that they were unstoppable and that they would continue to take justice into their own hands. We could not let that happen.
As we returned to the FBI field office, the team held a meeting to discuss the new development. There was a sense of urgency in the room, with everyone determined to find the killer before they could strike again. We knew now that this was not just a case of a single killer seeking revenge, but rather a group of individuals who were acting as vigilantes.
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Taglist:
@marvelwoman-sugarbaby
@ellieslver
#criminal minds#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#emily prentiss#jenifer jareau#luke alvez#spencer reid#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader
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My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Return'
Doug and I have made up for our disagreement regarding Montana. I did not, in fact, go to his St Patrick's Day party (due to the fact I was busy with my daughter's Scout pack being in the parade), but we bonded over the insane weather in our region recently.
He had a lot of strong opinions on this, and it was a little scattered. Kind of like most TV shows, I guess.
CW: Doug Doug's on and continues to have Feelings about Certain Geographic Locations. Enjoy!
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Episode 4: “Redneck Family Bonding”
You know how I know them clone boys is from Florida?
Because the show opens to Little Orphan Blonde sleeping in their busted work van wearing a puka shell necklace while her brother Daddy Warcrimes is shooting fruit on the beach all while their adopted mutant dog chases critters away from the trash can.
Yup. Average day in Florida.
Of course Daddy Rambo is sitting on the ledge, watching Daddy Warcrimes and mumbling to himself. Do you think he peeps on the neighbors in the other part of Space Daytona? He totally does. Daddy Rambo, you need a girlfriend, make that fruity robot wear a skirt and take it out on a date or something.
Hell YEAH, my boy Toaster Strudel is BACK! Look at him hugging everyone. Good man. Love him. Why is Daddy Warcrimes still wearing that fisherman sweater, is it St. Patrick’s Day still? Where’s Rex? Oh well.
And they’re chilling out on Hoops’s porch, chugging the man’s liquor and eating his sushi. I would, too. Oh man, they’re referencing Ryan-from-Accounting. I’m sad now. Where’s Church Lady? Probably realized she was too good for Ryan-from-Accounting, or maybe she found his bitch wife Laura and now they wine buddies. I guess.
Aw, Mutant Jimmers is friends with the monkeys. God damn, I love Mutant Jimmers.
No one can hack into the iPad Little Orphan Blondie took from her internship at the Museum of Science and Industry. Little Orphan Blondie’s a kid, make the kid do it! All kids know how iPads work!
They still kept Daddy Warcrimes’s armor with the Georgia colors and the skulls! And that’s why Daddy Rambo won’t look at him–look at Daddy Rambo’s colors, man’s a Gator fan and the SEC decides everything now don’t it.
So…they’re going back to Space Wyoming? Oh man, I remember this dump. I hope they threw THAT BLOND JACKASS’S body in a dumpster and let the bears eat it.
Back to the walk-in refrigerator where Daddy Warcrimes hung out with….oh. Oh. Sassy Park Ranger. Oh. But hey they found an ATM! How else are they gonna buy weed out here?
You know it’s a redneck family vacation because someone’s gotta get out of the trailer and turn on the circuit breaker cause there’s no power and they gotta watch the Saints play. At least they ain’t hot wiring the HMS Search Warrant to power shit up. Actually, it would be great if they did–that’s some redneck engineering right there and it’s good bonding for those angry boys.
Oh the daddy fight! Daddy Warcrimes and Daddy Rambo need the therapy and they ain’t gonna get it so they gonna do what rednecks do when they upset and need to talk…go outside the trailer and scream and shove each other while the dog barks at everything. Someone needs to trip on a rusty rake now. I feel like I’m watching my own family on Christmas.
Of course, turning off the power means the critters are coming! Is it gonna be a snow gator? No? Oh man it’s one of them worms from that sand movie that Bobbie Lee keeps talking about!
Go go Daddy Warcrimes go! Save Daddy Rambo!
Once again, they rednecks, because nothing solves a problem like shooting a gun repeatedly into the ground. Don’t none of these folks have a taser? Some bear mace? Come on, there’s a Wal Mart on Space Daytona I know there is.
Mutant Jimmers is helping everyone out! Go Mutant Jimmers go! When does Mutant Jimmers get her own show?
Toaster Strudel bitching at everyone as he gonna do. I agree Toaster Strudel, I agree.
Man look at Little Orphan Blondie go and there’s Julio doing all the work while being chased by the snow critter. Why does every animal on earth wanna mate with Julio I swear to God.
And they turned the power back on and boom no more critter chasing. This is the most redneck show I swear I’m watching a show about my idiot brother in law and his friends in Wyoming.
Nothing brings the family together like going out to an abandoned trailer, searching for the power, shooting guns, getting chased by critters and a screaming shove-fight outside while the dog chases a big-assed animal away from the garbage. Yup. Space rednecks. They all need NASCAR shirts.
Well, they got the iPad working again….back to Space Florida! And they all getting along.
Meat Muffin, why did this episode make me so happy?
Tagging Doug's fans because yes: @skellymom @cdblake1565 @megmca @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @eelfuneral @thecoffeelorian @lightwise @archivistofnerddom @askyourfox @heavenseed76 @totallyunidentified
#tbb#cloneforce99#thebadbatch#the bad batch#the bad batch season 3#redneck doug#doug watches star wars#clone force 99#doug why#cajun doug#doug the neighbor#space rednecks
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Where "You're Losing Me" fits in the Kaylor Timeline
Ok, so I wanted to sum up what I thought “You’re Losing Me” meant for Kaylor. But most of all, where does it all fit in the Timeline.
First and foremost. It’s important to remember that Midnights is in Taylor’s words: “the stories of 13 sleepless nights scattered throughout my life”.
Which means that the songs on this album are not all recent stories. Some happened a long time ago.
Like:
Snow On The Beach: being about the Victoria Secret Fashion Show in 2013.
Question…?: About Kissgate in 2014.
One thing that is interesting with Midnights is that songs are sampled over older songs. I believe this serves multiple purposes:
Pointing at the muse (Maroon sampled over KOMH and Cornelia Street),
Pointing at the time and cause of the song (The Great War sampled on Only The Young)
Pointing at the similar emotions the event might have with others (Question…? sampled on OOTW).
So where does that leave us with "You’re Losing Me"?
When you listen to the song you notice that it’s very similar and seem to have practically the same intro as "Cornelia Street".
More than that, if you play both songs at the same time, the timing is perfect, the intro of one song answers the intro of the other.
So what is Taylor trying to tell us with this?
Everyone was puzzled when the song came out, because it does not fit with the narrative of Champagne Problems and Midnight Rain. Those songs seem to point at Karlie wanting to commit and Taylor being unable to choose her over everything else.
But in You’re Losing Me. It’s quite the contrary. Taylor seems to want to commit and seems unsure of Karlie’s intentions in this relationship.
So what does it mean?
I think the song points to Cornelia Street to offer a timeline of when the events took place.
And I don’t think they took place at the same time the song Cornelia Street takes place (in 2019), but more likely, when they were living at Cornelia Street.
Taylor rented Cornelia Street from June 2016 to early 2017.
What happened during this time with Kaylor?
I think, looking back on all the events of 2019. Everyone can at least agree that they were still together at that time.
If you don’t believe it. Watch Miss Americana. The Call It What You Want scene, and you’ll see that Kaylor was indeed alive and well.
I did a thread on Twitter about this, but here’s some important events.
Octobre 11th 2016: “It’s all part of the fucking story”
Octobre 12th 2016: Taylor went out to the concert where she “started dating Joe”.
Octobre 13th 2016: Taylor is out at the Bowery Ballroom with Karlie and Serena William (yes this is suspicious).
Novembre 7th 2016: Karlie and Taylor are out at Lorde’s birthday.
Novembre 8th 2016: Trump is elected. Karlie posted the famous picture of her and Taylor kissing Lorde’s cheek with the ring (last post of them together at an event)
Novembre 9th 2016: Start of the Love Blackout
(There’s also the engagement theory that happened in Wyoming in August 2016)
What makes me say the song takes place then and not in 2019?
Well she references the Cornelia Street apartment, with the song sample obviously, but also with those lyrics:
“remember lookin’ at this room, we loved it ‘cause of the light. Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time.”
I think the lyric “We thought a cure would come through in time, now I fear it won’t” might be about them having to hide their relationship.
And I suspect the results of the 2016 elections has something to do with it (as well as with the Love Blackout).
In the song Taylor is begging Karlie to choose her.
The song is also not a finality.
When the song ends we don’t know what happened.
There’s fear, hurt, indecision, but also a bit of hope: “Unless you’re choosin’ me”
Taylor is still wishing it might work out.
So I think the song being sampled on Cornelia Street is to tell us it happened during this time frame (June 2016 - early 2017).
And in the song Cornelia Street there’s:
“Windows swung right open, autumn air
Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours
We bless the rains on Cornelia Street
Memorize the creaks in the floor”
Which points to the Autumn of 2016 (if we follow the timeline).
"Back when we were card sharks, playing games
I thought you were leading me on
I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street
Before you even knew I was gone"
This part points to before that. But still at Cornelia Street. So between June and Septembre 2016.
And it’s talking about a fight they had where Taylor thought Karlie was not genuine with her “I thought you were leading me on”
Interesting because it fits perfectly with the narrative of “You’re Losing Me”.
"But then you called, showed your hand
I turned around before I hit the tunnel
Sat on the roof, you and I"
And this fight had a happy ending!
So for all those reasons, this is where I think this sleepless night took place and the fight it’s talking about.
What does it means for LSK? Not much. But it sure doesn’t mean that they are not together.
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Day 4 - That’s history!!!
Hello all! I apologize for such a late update. I had my usual morning post all done and ready to go and then no service when I went to post.
The chilly temperature this morning in Custer woke me up early so I decided to take Lily for a walk around the lake as the sun came up. Lily enjoyed all the strange smells and I think she was trying her best to hunt down that bison who was in camp the night before. (Side note, when we pulled out this morning the behemoth beast was standing right at the edge of the road. I guess he likes camping!) taking that lake walk this morning was contagious. Everyone went walking by the lake in their own time, but Todd was the only one lucky enough to see any horned wildlife. Well, I guess Mom saw some too since she went with Dad. 😊
After walking and organizing, we headed towards Mountain Rushmore. A dear friend of mine, Joanie, told me once “It is like nothing you have ever seen. Indescribable.” She was not wrong!
As Todd maneuvered the camper van through the S curves and beautiful mountains, there it was. The feeling brought me back to that same excitement when I was a kid screaming, “I see the Eiffel Tower!!!” as we neared King’s Island. But this…WOW! To see one and only completed, hand carved, rock sculpture of the faces of four of the most influential presidents U.S. history is truly unbelievable. Seeing it in books and pictures just doesn’t do it justice. Even Lily stopped to look!!! I asked Mom if she ever thought she would see it in person…her response was nothing short of what anyone reading this would expect, “No, I did not.” I am so thankful that she was able to see what some might call the 8th Wonder of the World. (I don’t know if anyone actually calls it that except the guy I heard say it while we were there, but it sounded feasible to me!)
After our visit to Mount Rushmore, we made our way to Deadwood, SD, where Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane are laid to rest. After watching, the HBO series of the same name a few years back, I couldn’t wait to visit the famous western gold mining town. I have to say, I was highly disappointed in the town as it was not the original or even the close reproduction that I had expected, but much more commercialized with casinos and souvenir shops being nearly every establishment on Main Street. We didn’t let that ruin our fun! Todd’s hopes were deflated when he discovered the brothel had been shut down by the FBI over 40 years ago. Just kidding….he had no idea…didn’t even know the sign was there when I took his picture!! 😂
While Calamity Jane always raised a ruckus, I knew Dad would give her a run for her money. A local bartender recommended the Oyster Bay restaurant for the best pizza in town, so off we went. Like everywhere else, they had slot machines. What we learned is that not only Dad, but Mom, had missed their calling….millwright and customer service worker, pfft! They should have moved west and became gamblers! We gave them each $2 and Todd showed them how the penny slot worked. Mom won $9.64 and Dad won $7.35! They nearly won enough to pay for their lunch AND were smart enough to cash out and be done!
After making a brief stop at the Bar where Wild Bill Hickok was shot while holding a hand of Aces and Eights, we decided to head out of town after making one last stop at Mt. Moriah cemetery where Bill, Jane and the town’s first sheriff, Seth Bullock, were buried. I mean, we were there, right? Why not?
On the road again, Wyoming brings a different kind of terrain….many meadows of antelope, but coolest of all was seeing Devil’s Tower in the distance as we made our way to our campground in Moorcroft. I guess I have been doing this way too long both Mom and Todd just asked if I had posted. Until tomorrow family and friends! ❤️
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Ch. 34: After the Holidays
Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.
The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.
I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.
These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)
A couple of days later, you sat in your office looking at an email when there was a knock on the door.
You looked up and saw Max at the door.
"Hey," you said with a weak smile. "Come on in."
He slowly sauntered in, his piercing blue eyes looking at you. "You know how to throw one hell of a Christmas," he said as he pulled out the chair to Jake's desk and sat down.
"Does this mean you'll be back next year?"
Max chuckled. "We'll see. I might make it a tradition."
You smiled. "That would be nice. It was good having you here."
Max nodded. "How are you holding up with everything that's going on?"
You sighed. "It's been tough, but we're getting through it. Jake's been a great support."
Max leaned back in the chair. "Good to hear. If you need anything, you know where to find me."
"Did you find anything on video at the hotel?"
"The only thing we found was him carrying you out. He must've known where the cameras were in the restaurant. There's no good view of where you two were sitting."
You sighed. "Of course not." Just then, you made a face.
"Are you okay?" Max asked.
"Yeah. Someone just likes to stick his toes in my ribs, and it hurts like hell." You took your hand and pushed on your ribs.
"Can I feel?" Max asked curiously.
"Of course," you replied, taking his hand and gently placing it on your side where little feet were currently pushing on your stomach.
Max's eyes lit up. "Oh, wow!"
You smiled at his reaction. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it?"
Max nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, it really is. He's strong, just like his parents."
"More like his dad when he's throwing hay bales off the back of the tractor trailer," you said with a smile, thinking about it.
Max nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "I'm glad you found him, Y/N. Even though it was iffy there for four years."
You sighed, the memories flooding back. "Yeah, it was tough. But we made it through, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Max's piercing blue eyes softened. "You two are stronger for it. And now you've got a little one on the way. It's a new chapter."
You gently placed a hand on your stomach. "Yeah."
Max stood up. "I have to go. Thank you for inviting me for Christmas. I'll see you in Wyoming for court in a few weeks."
"Max. Jake leave next week. Would you..."
"Meet you in San Diego? Way ahead of you," he said with a smile. "Then we'll fly to Wyoming for court."
You stood up, and the two of you embraced. "You are the best." You separated. "Come on. I'll walk you out," you said after letting go.
The two of you walked to the front door. Max put on his jacket and then leaned over, giving you a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Love you like the sister I'm glad I never had."
You smiled. "Love you too."
Max opened the door, and you watched as he walked to his vehicle and opened the door. He turned, looked at you, and blew you a kiss. You returned the sentiment as he got in his vehicle, started it, and drove away.
You stepped back into the house, closing the door behind you, feeling a mix of gratitude and anticipation for the challenges ahead.
"Darlin'. Have you seen my cowboy boots?" Jake asked from the bedroom later that afternoon.
"Either in the closet or the mudroom, babe," you responded.
He stuck his head in the office door. "Are you packed?"
You looked at him. "As much as I can be. I'll only be in San Diego for a couple of days."
It was Wednesday. Your plane left tomorrow morning, and Jake didn't leave until Saturday morning. The plan was that you flew to San Diego, checked on his apartment, and stayed there with Max until Saturday afternoon when Jake left. Then you and Max would fly to Wyoming for the hearing for Dorian.
Jake's family was heading back home tomorrow morning, so they were going to say their 'laters' at the airport tomorrow. There were no goodbyes in this family. It was always 'later'.
Jake walked into the office, a concerned look on his face. "Are you sure you're going to be okay after I leave?"
"I'll be fine, Jake. Max will be with me the whole time," you replied reassuringly.
Jake leaned in and kissed your forehead. "Thanks, darlin'. It makes me feel better knowing you're not alone."
You smiled up at him. "I know."
Jake sat down beside you, a relieved expression on his face. "Thanks, Y/N. I know it's a lot to ask, but it puts my mind at ease."
You smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "It's no problem, Jake. Max has always been there for us. Now more than ever."
Jake nodded, appreciating your effort. "I really do feel better knowing you’ll have someone there with you."
You smiled. "I'll be just fine. Now, let’s finish packing so we can enjoy the rest of the evening."
You looked at his cowboy boots. "Do you really need to bring these ones back to San Diego? I mean, are you really going to wear them?"
He looked at his boots and then back at you. "Valid point. I'll keep them here."
You smiled, giggled and shook your head as you watched him walk back to the mudroom, cowboy boots in hand.
Late that night in bed, you were woken up by the baby kicking and pushing on your stomach. You looked over and saw Jake sleeping soundly next to you and then glanced at the clock. It was one in the morning. Sighing, you carefully lifted off the comforter, slipped your feet into your slippers, and quietly headed to the office.
The house was silent, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards. You turned on the desk lamp, its warm light casting a gentle glow in the room, and sat down at the desk.
You turned on your computer and checked your emails, trying to distract yourself from the discomfort, rubbing your stomach as you did so. As you sifted through your inbox, you found a message from your attorney, Mr. Dunby, updating you on the progress of your case. You read through the details, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration.
After replying to the email, you leaned back in the chair, resting your hand on your stomach. The baby continued to move, but the motions were more soothing now. You took a deep breath, trying to relax.
A soft knock on the doorframe startled you, and you looked up to see Jake standing there, rubbing his eyes. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, his voice husky with sleep.
You shook your head. "The baby decided it was time for a dance party."
Jake smiled, walking over and placing his hand on your stomach. "Hey there, little one. Give your momma a break, okay?"
You laughed softly, feeling a wave of love for both Jake and the baby. "I think it helped."
He walked over, leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Come on, let's go back to bed."
After turning off your computer, you turned to see Jake holding his hand out to you. You placed your hand into his as he led you back to the bedroom.
The apartment was still quiet, and the warmth of Jake’s hand in yours provided a comforting contrast to the cold floor under your slippers. When you reached the bedroom, Jake gently helped you back into bed, making sure you were comfortable before sliding in beside you.
He pulled the comforter up over both of you, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist. "Try to get some rest, darlin'."
You snuggled closer to him, feeling the soothing rhythm of his breathing. "Thanks, Jake," you whispered, closing your eyes and letting the warmth of his presence lull you back to sleep.
As the night progressed, the baby’s movements softened, and you finally found a peaceful rest.
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Vanquish by Wisdom Hellish Wiles (9/9)
On AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
@today-in-fic
I started this story in October 2017 after first seeing the season 11 trailer, forgot about it for six years, and then finally finished it. Compared to what some other amazing writers in this fandom are creating, it's honestly not great, but coming back to it helped me remember that writing can be fun. I hope to keep writing and hopefully keep improving. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy my vision for how the show could have ended.
As a baby, William moved the mobile above his crib using his mind. As a teenager, he employed his psychic powers to save his birth parents’ lives by spontaneously killing an entire cadre of black ops forces and, presumably, the smoking man and Reyes as well. And yet, in Scully’s mind, neither of those facts were the most impressive thing about her son.
To her, it was simply that he was there—alive and in front of her in the flesh. She wanted to stop time and catalog every detail of his body the way she and Mulder did days after he was born, laying him out on her bed and silently marveling at his tiny toes, chubby limbs, and rosebud mouth. She wanted to run her hands over his face and memorize every feature. Her baby was almost a man and he was just as perfect to her as the day he was born.
There was so much that she missed and so much she doesn’t know. When did he take his first steps? What’s his favorite food? Was he a cautious rule-follower like herself or was he constantly pushing the limits like his father? She’d never get those years back and she’d never forgive herself for giving him away, but in that moment all that mattered was that they were together again.
Mulder’s eyes reflected her astonishment back at her. In their almost 30 years together, they’d learned to communicate without words. A glance, a wink, or a nod could convey missives of emotion. As they stood in the driveway, too stunned to move, she could tell he was as overwhelmed—by shock, by love, by awe—as she was.
“Come on,” William said. “There might be others coming. Let’s go.”
Her son’s voice. Low and deep like his father’s.
“Yeah, Scully,” Mulder said, reaching for her hand. “We better get going.”
She could only nod in response and let Mulder lead them both back to their car.
“You call each other by your last names,” William said. She could tell it wasn’t a question but him logging a fact about them, or confirming one he had already sensed.
“We work together,” Scully said. “And it just stuck.”
William nodded. She was grateful he didn’t ask any questions about her and Mulder’s current relationship that she couldn’t answer. Working together the past couple of months had been good for them. They’d found their old rhythm and had been spending more time together outside of work as well, but she hadn’t felt ready to move back in yet.
Back at the car, Scully realized she didn't know where they’d go. Would they bring William back to DC with them? If colonization was imminent, she needed to get started on developing a vaccine as soon as possible.
“Can we go get my parents?” William asked, as if reading her mind. “They’re probably worried about me.”
Mulder smiled. “Sure,” he said.
“Sorry,” William said sheepishly. “I mean my adoptive parents. That’s just…what I’ve always called them.”
“Don’t apologize, William,” said Scully, even though she admitted to herself that it cut like a knife to hear her son refer to strangers as his parents. “I’m thankful you were placed with a good family who took care of you all these years.”
“Yeah,” Mulder responded. “And I do imagine they’d be worried about you.”
******
They arrived in Wyoming the following morning. William slept on the plane but Mulder and Scully, sitting on either side of him, stayed awake—both keeping guard and watching him in awe.
“This is where you grew up?” Scully asked, after William directed them to a small but well-kept farmhouse.
“Yup, lived here my whole life—well, that I can remember.”
Scully nodded. His childhood must’ve been so different from the one she could’ve given him. Instead of living in a city, he had fields to run and roam in. She wondered if he played baseball like his father and what kind of games he invented for himself when he was little to stay busy in this wide open space.
As they approached the house they noticed the front door was open and the screen door was swinging on its hinges.
“Do your parents normally leave the door open like that?” Mulder asked.
“No,” William said. “That’s weird.”
“I’m going to go check it out,” Mulder said, reaching for his gun. “You two wait in the car.”
It was the first time Scully was alone with her son since finding him the night before. She sat in the passenger seat stealing glimpses of him in the rearview mirror.
“This must be a lot to take in,” she said.
William shrugged his shoulders. “I always knew I was different. Monica told me about you guys.”
Scully swallowed. She wanted to ask Wiliam so many questions but it was impossible to even know where to start. How do you make up for fifteen years—an entire life in his case? She had once known every inch of skin on his tiny body and now he was essentially a stranger. Did he have any scars? Any broken bones? She didn’t know what he liked to eat or his favorite movie.
“Have you ever seen The Exorcist?” he asked from the backseat, startling Scully.
“It’s one of my favorite movies,” she said.
“Me too. My parents don’t watch any horror movies but I started downloading some classics and I love them.”
“William, were you reading my thoughts just now? Why did you bring up The Exorcist?”
“I guess I had a sense of what you were thinking,” he said. “It’s not so clear cut like listening to someone talk out loud but I get sentiments and sometimes words. It’s strong with you. And Mulder, too.”
“Could you read your parents like that?”
“Yeah, I got better at it over time.”
Mulder emerged alone from the house. He jogged back to the car and knocked on Scully’s window, gesturing for her to come with him. She followed him to the front porch.
“Scully, there are two bodies inside. A middle-aged white male and female. Looks like gunshot wounds. I think I can guess who they are and I’d rather not ask William to have to identify them.”
“Shit,” Scully said. “What do we do?”
They heard William’s car door open and watched as he came to stand with them. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”
“Oh, William,” Scully sighed.
“I had a feeling,” he said, looking down at his sneakers.
“Is there anyone else we should try to find? Any other family or friends?” Mulder asked.
William shook his head. He was still looking down but Scully could see him starting to cry.
“I’m so sorry, William,” Scully said. She embraced her son and felt his tears dampening her blouse. Mulder stepped closer and wrapped his arms around both of them.
They were three broken people. Parents who’d lost their child and a child who’d lost his parents, but somehow they were also a family. They just had to find a way to pick up the pieces and find each other once again.
*****
Mulder and Scully offered to move to William’s hometown in Wyoming for him to finish up high school and start their vaccine research there, but he felt no connection to the place without his adopted parents. If anything, he was desperate for a fresh start. His old town was filled with reminders of what he’d lost.
So instead Wiliam moved into their home in Virginia. It was an older, more rundown house but he could tell they had made it a home. He preferred that it wasn’t in the heart of the city because it was less of a dramatic change from his childhood home. Mulder explained that he and Scully had been giving each other some space and she had her own apartment, but as soon as they were back from Wyoming she started every night at the house and slowly moved her belongings back.
There was a spare room on the second floor for him to move his things into.
“I know this is uncomfortable,” said Scully, showing him to his room. “We love you so much, but we know you’re still just getting to know us. I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for.”
“What was in here before?” William said.
“Nothing,” Mulder said. “We never spoke about it, but I think we both hoped you’d be here one day.”
They’d had nearly everything from his old bedroom shipped out to Virginia to try to make the transition smooth. At first he told them he didn’t mind starting over, but as he sat in his new-old room he realized he appreciated the small comforts of home—his snow globe collection, his family photos, and his worn-in baseball glove.
“We should have a catch sometime,” Mulder said, picking up the glove.
“I’d like that.”
They had a lot of work to do. They were racing against an unseen clock to beat the invasion. Scully had already taken blood and saliva samples from William to try to isolate his alien DNA to create a vaccine. They had some old associates who were going to help with the science but there was still the issue of convincing the entire global population to take a vaccine to prevent the colonization of the planet–without inciting mass panic.
William had faith in his birth parents, though. Every night they told him about their old cases which never failed to thrill him. And each day the awkward silences between the three of them started filling up with inside jokes, spirited arguments, and stories of the past that helped close the fifteen-year gap since the last time they were together.
They were careful about giving him space and typically after dinner he’d retreat to his room while his parents sat and talked on the front porch. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but it was comforting to hear their voices drifting up through his bedroom window.
One night around a month after moving in, he decided to join them outside. Scully smiled and scooted over, making room for him to sit in between them on the bench.
“I know you guys keep saying I don’t have to thank you for taking me in,” William started, “but I really do appreciate it. Growing up, I never thought I’d meet you or that if I did… you wouldn’t want anything to do with me because of…who I am and what I can do.”
“William, we love you for being exactly who you are. As I’m sure you’ve started to realize, the two of us aren’t exactly the picture of normalcy either. I think, together, we make a great team,” said Scully.
“Now we just have to save the world,” William said smiling.
“No pressure, right?” Mulder chuckled.
His parents draped their arms around him from either side and he felt himself relaxing against them. For the first time in his life he felt like he was exactly where he should be.
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