#not a survivalist girl 🫡

[tightjeansjavi]

@chaotic-mystery and I are writing more for Not A Survivalist Girl and Joel is so mean 🤠 mean old man Joel Miller 😵‍💫

BARK BARK BARK

[chaotic-mystery]

My beloved Yapper in Chief

4, 8. 11

das me, I am Chief Yappy 🫡

a story idea you haven’t written yet

Oh god, I have so many. I still have my babysitters fic from last OCTOBER that I never got around to writing (I will one day), I also have ideas cooking for a few other characters I don't normally write for (We've got some stepdad stuff, some hitchhiking slasher perhaps, HEHEHEHE)

if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

I think if I had to write a sequel to one of my stories, I think I would do one for Take A Hint - my first Frankie story I've ever posted. It was so much fun and ya know, he really pisses me off in that story so he deserves something, karma if you will.

a WIP you’d like to finish someday

I would love to finish rewriting Not A Survivalist Girl and get the entire thing posted this time around 😭

[tightjeansjavi]

Sneak peek below the cut for NASG chapter 5 NSFW 🖤 wanted to give y’all a mouthful instead of just a taste ;)

@chaotic-mystery posted her sneak peek as well 😮‍💨

Joel could feel what was left of his rationale was dissipating before his very eyes. It crumbled like sand pulverized by crashing waves. Fluttered like ash from a burning fire disappearing into the thick blanket of black in the night sky. His pupils expanded, darkened as the fire's warm glow flickered against his irises. The close proximity to you was spinning his mind in fast circles. Your exposed skin begging to be touched by his calloused hands, and wet mouth. He swallowed hard, the Adams of his apple bobbing as his gaze met yours. He wet his lips with one swipe of his tongue as all the blood in his body flowed southward, straight to his strained cock that was pressing painfully against the confines of his worn boxers.

“You’re playin’ with some dangerous fire right now, girlie. You sure you wanna do that?” His brow raised as he leaned in close, close enough that you could taste the whiskey on his breath and feel the heat radiating from his body. “I’ll give ya one chance to take back what ya just said. After that..” He trailed off as his eyes flitted down to your lips. His hand reached out, cupping your jaw as his thumb dragged across your lower lip, tugging the soft skin down with his thumbnail. “C’mon. Use those big girl words and tell me you don’t fuckin’ want this. C’mon, girlie. This is your one chance to back out while you still can.”

[tightjeansjavi]

NASG chapter 4 sneak peek below the cut 👀

Written with @chaotic-mystery 🤍

Title: “Death Over Decaf”

“I do not fuckin’ sound like that, girlie.” His tone was gruff, and he had a displeased expression on his face as his eyes narrowed in on you with a certain sharpened edge of malice swirling through his darkened pupils. He had every intention to make you jump out of your skin from his unannounced arrival.

[tightjeansjavi]

Hiiii good-morning!

Here is my plan for the week babes:

I already have a set plan for chapter 5 of “blue jeans n’Texas dreams” I swear, this one is writing itself at this point lol.

I will be starting it sometime after work/gym and I might even have it up by tonight! (Latest tomorrow night)

After that, I can dedicate all my time to writing chapter 15 of “Burning in a Hopeless Dream” I think this chapter might end up being the longest one I have written, and I imagine the rest will be pretty long as well.

Maddi and I are also brainstorming for “Not a Survivalist Girl” hopefully we’ll have chapter 1 out for y’all soon!

Okay, that’s all from me for now! Happy Monday and have a wonderful day ♡ ♡ ♡

[tightjeansjavi]

@chaotic-mystery and I are finishing up chapter 3 of Not a Survivalist Girl 👀 we should have it posted by tonight!

Sneak Peek below the cut

Joel responded with a grunt as he slowly stood up from the log, bringing his hand to his lower back as he tried to stretch it out. Goddamn log. Goddamn stupid fucking fluffy pink blanket. Goddamn stupid cans hanging from a fucking tree. Goddamn birds chirping. Goddamn. Goddamn. Goddamn. You looked cute in the morning. That was for goddamn sure.

[tightjeansjavi]

You don’t understand how much i love not a survivalist girl!!!! It’s the best joel fanfiction i’ve ever read and you must have read my mind because that is exactly the kind of joel fanfiction that i love the most simply because 1) i love grumpy!joel x helpless-but-trying-sunshine!reader, it’s the best trope in the world, not up for discussion and 2) that would literally be me in the apocalypse so it’s the only way i can ever relate to a reader 🤣 maybe that’s i love it so much! ANYWAY i love this fic and also your writing is impeccable!

I am so happy to hear how much you love NASG 🖤 this story would not be possible without the lovely @chaotic-mystery who writes for our ever-so sassy and flirtatious reader! Maddi and I have been having so much fun writing this story for y’all

Thank you so much for your kind words 🥹

-Gi

[kirsteng42]

Working my through @tightjeansjavi incredible masterlist…

Not A Survivalist Girl: Part 1

“Freezing One’s Tits Off and White Lies”

(Written by @tightjeansjavi & @chaotic-mystery)

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: Joel Miller lives a life alone. It’s the way he likes it. After losing his daughter 13 years ago, and his brother Tommy ditching him for the fireflies out west, he doesn’t have much sympathy, nor care for what remains of civilization. That is..until he meets you in the woods one cold night. How stupid could you really be to light a fire, and put yourself in imminent danger.

Warnings: implied age gap, canon typical violence (eventually) slow burn, mean! Joel, dark! Joel, is literally just a grumpy old asshole! Joel, sunshine reader, no survival skills but she’s doing her best, Joel is a loner, mentions of depression, PTSD, trauma, childloss, angst, grumpy vibes, some degradation, nicknames, teasing, eventual smut, (+18) minors dni!

Mid-October, 2016 in the woods/middle of fucking nowhere

Fall..I think? I don’t know but I’m freezing my tits off! ☹

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘦��𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘺’𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢�� 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘣 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴! 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵? 𝘕𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴! 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘨𝘴! 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘨 (𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴!) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱. 𝘏𝘦’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘐 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬. 𝘞𝘦’𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵. 𝘏𝘦’𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘴. 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺—

It had been 13 years since her death. Since the world had to shit. 13 years since he lost the one person who meant the most to him. Losing his daughter changed Joel Miller for the worst. Her death hardened his heart, and his soul. His mistrust for the world, and hatred for the shit-heads that walked freely, was deeply webbed into his soul. He had no one. His brother Tommy headed out west with the fucking fireflies leaving Joel entirely alone. He lived through the same mind numbing routine day in, and day out. The only thing that mattered to him these days was survival. He convinced himself that he was content with having lost contact with what was left of human civilization. Living out in the woods, with the whispers of wind through tangled branches, were his only friends. His only company. Not that he needed friends. Oh no, Joel Miller was convinced that he didn’t need anyone. This was a lie he told himself every morning, and every night.

Tag list: @peterhollandkait @bearsbeetsbeskar @beskarandblasters @777-wonders @lovers-liability @loquaciousferret @dinsdjrn @mirasantidotes @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @novemberrain-writes @jksprincess10 @daddysfavoritesexkitten @bonglorddaryl @andineverfeltsoalone @partyofone3413 @last-girl @atinylittlepain @pedrostories

[kirsteng42]

Looks like another fab series!!!

Not A Survivalist Girl: Part 1

“Freezing One’s Tits Off and White Lies”

(Written by @tightjeansjavi & @chaotic-mystery)

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: Joel Miller lives a life alone. It’s the way he likes it. After losing his daughter 13 years ago, and his brother Tommy ditching him for the fireflies out west, he doesn’t have much sympathy, nor care for what remains of civilization. That is..until he meets you in the woods one cold night. How stupid could you really be to light a fire, and put yourself in imminent danger.

Warnings: implied age gap, canon typical violence (eventually) slow burn, mean! Joel, dark! Joel, is literally just a grumpy old asshole! Joel, sunshine reader, no survival skills but she’s doing her best, Joel is a loner, mentions of depression, PTSD, trauma, childloss, angst, grumpy vibes, some degradation, nicknames, teasing, eventual smut, (+18) minors dni!

Mid-October, 2016 in the woods/middle of fucking nowhere

Fall..I think? I don’t know but I’m freezing my tits off! ☹

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘺’𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘣 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴! 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵? 𝘕𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴! 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘨𝘴! 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘨 (𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴!) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱. 𝘏𝘦’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘐 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬. 𝘞𝘦’𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵. 𝘏𝘦’𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘴. 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺—

It had been 13 years since her death. Since the world had to shit. 13 years since he lost the one person who meant the most to him. Losing his daughter changed Joel Miller for the worst. Her death hardened his heart, and his soul. His mistrust for the world, and hatred for the shit-heads that walked freely, was deeply webbed into his soul. He had no one. His brother Tommy headed out west with the fucking fireflies leaving Joel entirely alone. He lived through the same mind numbing routine day in, and day out. The only thing that mattered to him these days was survival. He convinced himself that he was content with having lost contact with what was left of human civilization. Living out in the woods, with the whispers of wind through tangled branches, were his only friends. His only company. Not that he needed friends. Oh no, Joel Miller was convinced that he didn’t need anyone. This was a lie he told himself every morning, and every night.

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