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got a phonecall from my dad and he said "hey. you gotta come out here. i want you to see something" in a very serious tone so i went outside and

Bnnuy

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name your courage

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you don’t like the blood in your reflection, joel wipes it away.

▹— a/n: this is like 1.4k words and it’s shit, sorry!!! barely any joel interaction but it’s the thought that counts? (from feb’23, posted june’25 so go easy lmao) this was supposed to be a lot longer i think

▹— warnings: extremely unfinished, creeps from silver lake, reader murders folk (off page), trauma, dissociation, BLOOD, canon typical violence

MASTERLIST

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Life in Jackson had been something of a miracle. A working, living society that fought back against the Infection that threatened to poison the whole world, and the humans who had taken advantage of it in the worst kind of way. It was a safe haven, a little pocket of life that you had never known before arriving alongside Ellie and Joel, close to a year ago.

But it didn’t change you.

It didn’t change anything about the world outside of the walls, either. The world was still infested with fungus, and full to the brim of immoral assholes who would love nothing more than to tear Jackson apart.

You couldn’t help but remain on edge, even as Ellie and Joel slowly began to relax into the life of somewhat normalcy. Every time you tried to just calm down and enjoy life, you felt overwhelmed with images of people destroying this place. You were sure it wouldn’t be able to last, nothing ever did.

It was the reason you were so eager to go on patrols, to be allowed the gun in your hands as your horse trotted along the routes that members of Jackson frequented.

So it was no surprise to you when you saw the smoke in the distance, coming from a supposedly abandoned cabin. You weren’t sure who would be in there, whether it’d be Jackson patrollers taking a pit stop, or someone more malicious.

You had been grateful, then, that being in Jackson hadn't made you soft. Your guard was still present, still strong, and you were thankful, especially as you got closer to the cabin. It had become increasingly clear that whoever these people were, they didn’t come from Jackson. The windows were unblocked, and you could see at least three men inside, their faces angled away from where you were staring in.

Nobody in Jackson would be that foolish, you were certain. It was standard procedure to block entrances to wherever you may be laying low, not wanting to risk Infected or hunters sneaking up on you. That open window would have anybody sneaking in with ease, which was why you knew you’d be getting answers.

You had tied up your horse, then, to a tree just out of reach, giving her a comforting pat against the side of her neck.

The next moments had been a blur, crawling through snow and bushes to keep out of sight, all the way until you had reached the open window, finally able to hear their voices carrying through the air. Your gun was gripped tightly in your hand, safety off, and you were ready to shoot first, answer later, before you caught wind of their words.

It had you freezing, eyebrows furrowed, and you recall the way misted breath had left you.

“They’ll all pay, Sid. That’s what we’re here for, ain’t it?” One of them had laughed, and you had heard the pat of him hitting presumably Sid on the shoulder.

“What? You think those assholes are gonna let us kill three of their own?”

“Hey, that stupid girl killed one of ours first. An eye for an eye.” The first voice responded, much angrier than his first comment had been, and you had realised then that this seemed… personal.

“They killed David, Sid. We ain’t about to let that slide!” A third voice spoke up, lower and much more vengeful when he uttered the name. Your mind had been racing, going through the likelihood that this was all a coincidence, and that they weren’t here for Ellie. For you. For Joel.

You were climbing through the window before you could think better of it, boots thumping harshly against the wooden floor and drawing all of their attention. You had grabbed the nearest guy before they could even make a move, your gun pressed to his head.

“Weapons on the floor.” You had hissed, pushing the metal harder against the man you held as they hesitated. “Now.”

“Alright, girl, jus’ calm down now!” One of the men, Sid, you figured, said, nodding towards his companion and dropping his pistol and rifle to the ground. You had jerked your chin, and kept your eyes sharp as they begrudgingly kicked away the weapons, out of reach.

Your hand had gripped the arm of the man in front of you as he held a knife, poised to strike you with it. “I wouldn’t.” The knife slipped to the floor as you twisted his wrist, and he cursed as you kicked it away, towards the window you had entered through. “What the fuck do you want? Why are you here?” Your voice had been dark, full of anger and a not so subtle threat.

“We just want the girl, okay? She killed one of ours.” Sid told you, his brows furrowed as he clearly tried to repress the anger in his expression.

“Where are you from?” You asked then, awaiting confirmation of your worst fears. You had repeated your question when they hesitated, pressing the gun harder against the head of the man below you, ignoring his wince.

“Silver Lake! It’s—it’s in Colorado!”

Your blood had felt like it was frozen, dragging through your veins at a speed so slow it physically hurt. You had swallowed, something in your eyes setting as you nodded, jaw clenched.

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The wind had numbed your limbs as soon as you stepped foot back outside, blood drying against your skin in the harsh weather.

Your horse was exactly where you’d left her, and she stayed quiet as you claimed back on the saddle, making your way back in the direction of Jackson with more supplies than you’d left with. The ride there was a complete blur, something inside of you just as numb, though not from the wind.

Concerned voices reached your ears when the gates opened, people reaching for you as you slipped off of the horse, patting her neck before someone took her back to the stables. “‘M fine.” You grumbled, stepping away from somebody as they reached hands towards you.

“Are you hurt?” They asked, hands stilled in the air, prepared to reach towards you again.

You shook your head, something fumbling from your lips about going home, and you set off before they could question you further. The journey blurred together, just the sound of your footsteps as you looked for the familiar road that was Rancher Street. You hadn’t fully registered the stares on you as you trekked through the heart of Jackson, finally reaching the house you were meant to call home.

“Joel?” You called, stepping into the house, the backpack and gear on your back being set down beside the door. When he didn’t answer, you frowned, knowing he wasn’t on any jobs this evening.

You made your way up the stairs, avoiding the fourth step that creaked when you step foot on it, and looked through the rooms, one by one. When you finally found the man, he was hunched over his woodwork desk, his mostly-deaf ear facing toward the doorway in which you stood.

“Joel,” You breathed, something of relief finding you as you saw he was fine, just working away in his own world. You were going to say something else, but were stopped by the way he looked over at you.

“Shit,” He said, standing immediately and making his way to you with quick steps. “Are you okay? What happened?” Joel asked, furrowing his brows when you didn’t answer him, rather stepping into his arms and gripping onto him like your life depended on it. He held on to the back of your head, holding you close, and couldn’t help but frown as you sagged in his arms.

He called your name, unable to do anything but be more confused and concerned by the second when you could only shake your head.

It takes him more than a few moments to realise that the blood staining you isn’t your own, and that brings along another realisation. Your despondency translates what happened for you, so you have no need to fill him in with words.

This is something Joel Miller knows all too well.

The disassociation afterwards is a powerful thing, but what comes after that stage isn’t any better. There are struggles ahead of you, he knows, and he knows those struggles well.

He holds you tighter, arms firm around you, and waits.

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▹—taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @soobsdior @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being (pedro) please let me know if you want removing or adding!

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made this a transparent gif because im in love

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The human body is such bullshit, I hate having to google shit like "why am I having stress symptoms when there are no sources of stress in my life".

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For all of the northerners that stood up for Texas during our freeze and said, "Don't make fun of them, they've never dealt with this before. Their infrastructure isn't made for snow and freezing."

This one is for you.

Where I live 108°F with 80% humidity with no wind is normal.

Pacific North West is dealing historic best waves 35-40°C or 95-105°F.

First of all. Don't make fun of them for bitching about the heat. Just like Texas isn't built for a freeze and our pipes burst, Pacific North West isn't built for heat and a lot of their homes don't have AC.

If you live somewhere with a high humidity like 80+ HUMIDITY IS NOT YOUR FRIEND. The "humidity makes it feel cooler" is a lie once it gets beyond a point.

If you live somewhere with a lower humidity, misters are nice to cool off outside.

Once you get over 90°F (32°C) a fan will not help you. It's just pushing around hot air. (I mean if you can't afford a small AC unit because they're expensive as hell, by all means a fan is better than nothing).

If you have pets, those portable AC units aren't safe. If your pets destroy the outtake thing, it'll leak CO2. Window units are safer.

Window AC units will let mosquitoes or other small bugs in. Sucks, but that's life.

Now is not the time to me modest. If you have to cover for religious reasons, by all means. If you don't, I've seen people wear short shorts and a swim top. It's not trashy if it keeps you from getting heat stroke.

If you do have to cover up for religious reasons, look for elephant pants or something similar. They're made with a breathable material.

Shade is better than no shade, but that shit it just diet sun after some point. Don't think shade will save you from heat stroke.

I know the "drink your water" is a fun meme now, but if you're sweating excessively you need electrolytes. Drink Gatorade, Powerade, or Pedialite PLEASE. I don't care if you're fucking sitting in one spot all day. That shit WILL save you from heat stroke.

Most importantly. RESEARCH THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HEAT STROKE AND HEAT EXHAUSTION PLEASE!

If you're diabetic and can't drink Gatorade, mix water, fruit juice, and either lite salt or pink salt

If you can afford it, cover windows with thick curtains to insulate the house

If you have tile floors, lay on them with skin to tile contact. If you don't, laying your head on cool counters works too.

If the temperature where you're at is hotter than your body temperature, don't wear heat wicking clothing. Moisture wicking is safe though.

Check your medication labels. Many make you more susceptible to sun and heat

-Room temperature water will get into your body faster. This is something I learned doing marching band in high summer in Georgia, and it saved all of our asses. Sip it, don't gulp it, especially if you're getting into the red; same goes for whatever fluid you're drinking. And just in general drink during the day.

-If you are moving from an air conditioned space to an un-air conditioned space, if at all possible try to make the shift gradual. When my dad and I were working outside and in un-ac houses a few years ago, he'd turn the air down to low in the truck about ten-fifteen minutes before we got where we were going. This way your body doesn't go from low low temps to high temps. S'bad for you.

-If you can, keep your lights off during the day. Light bulbs may not generate a lot of heat, but the difference is noticeable when it gets hot enough. I literally only turn my bedroom light on in the evening when it gets too dark.

Don't be afraid to just like... pour water on yourself if you need to. The evaporation will cool you off.

Put your hand to the cement for 15 seconds. If you can't handle the heat, it'll burn your dog's paws. Don't let them walk on it.

Dogs with flat faces are more prone to heat stroke. Don't leave them out unsupervised.

Frozen fruit is delicious in water.

Wet/Cold hat/handkerchief on your head/neck will help you stay cool.

Pickle juice is great for electrolytes! You can even make pickle juice Popsicles!

Heat exhaustion is more, "drink water and get you cooled off." Heat stroke is more "Oh my god call 911."

Image Description provided by @loveize

[Image description: an infographic showing the difference between heat exhaustion and heat stroke. The graphic is labeled "Heat Dangers: First Warning." Signs of heat exhaustion: faint or dizzy, excessive sweating, cool, pale, clammy skin, rapid, weak pulse, muscle cramps. If you think you or someone else may be experiencing heat exhaustion, get to a cool, air-conditioned place, drink water if conscious, and take a cool shower or use cold compress. Signs of heat stroke: throbbing headache, no sweating, red, hot, dry skin, rapid, strong pulse, may lose consciousness. If you think you or someone else may be experiencing heat stroke, call 911. End description]

Be safe.

-fae

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caving as an extreme sport is sooo unfathomable to me why are u as a creature of the daylight doing that. were u born without the dread in ur bones or something

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if phantom hourglass has 5 fans i am ONE OF THEM!!

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animal eyes

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Being a weird little girl as a kid provides two options to you: becoming transgender or becoming a weird adult woman. Both of which are things the world needs more of

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Can’t do just epic shots all the time when the galaxy is vast and beautiful

Spot the tiny Grogu on the rock lol

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be honest. are you guys only hanging out with me because of the prophecy.

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narrator who's terrible at social cues & describes every facial expression as "unreadable"