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memorylang · 2 years

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Central Europe, Summer Camps and New England | #57 | September 2022

I cover experiences in Central Europe's Germany, Austria and Czechia followed by a couple roles this summer in the States, concluded by discernment trips around the nation. I drafted most of these remembrances seven weeks ago but hadn't concluded editing. I revisited this aboard the U.S. Peace Corps Mongolia's nearly 12-hour flight Oct. 17, 2O22 from Seattle to Istanbul en route to Mongolia.

Consider this entry “Part II of II.” I pick up where Part I left off, at last back overseas for the first time since the COVID-19 pandemic evacuated us Peace Corps Volunteers back from Mongolia. I bridge my thoughts from one journey overseas to the next, finishing the writing over the weekend ending my first week back in Mongolia, Oct. 22–23, 2O22.

Germany and Austria | May 2O22

After having left Singapore and crossing Eurasia, I reached Munich, Germany, where fellow pilgrims awaited. I had taken a while to get through immigration and await news on where my luggage may be before I rejoined the rest of our community. In the meantime, I began to get acquainted over WhatsApp with our caring Italian guide, Maddalena.

Once I put in my bag request and accepted that the airline lost it somewhere between Singapore, Qatar and Germany, I walked from my terminal to our pilgrim group. I reunited with folks from Our Lady of Wisdom Newman Center Reno whom I hadn’t seen since March, as well as the couple who visited me in Singapore just a few days before. Even my papa, stepma (tita) and younger sister were present. On the pilgrimage too were folks from other dioceses. Our pastor Fr. Nathan led. We prayed my luggage would arrive at the hotel soon.

Bavarian Germany: Death and Light

My Day 3 of transition from mission to pilgrimage was, for the rest, their first day since leaving America. Our journey began solemnly. We traveled to Dachau and Nazi Germany's first concentration camp.

Entering the camp's vast area reminded me of seeing amid the pandemic, “The Boy in Striped Pajamas.” This wooded yet barren camp starkly reminded me of mortality. Its remnants revealed the cost at times of witness. Tiny living quarters where bishops and priests could say Mass amazed me that they could.

I felt stunned that people had intended to raze this place. Keeping the grounds here leaves a scar from the horror that transpired. At least for those who lost family, they could at least have here to come.

My group entered the gas chambers. Though we could not take photos, I needed no photo to remember its appearance. People died there. Cremation areas stood in the chamber past where people would have been locked in. Peculiarly, I recalled having seen what seemed like the cremation spaces in a dream not long after my mother died. I supposed that the memory gave me some sense of familiarity. I felt less worried about my missing bag.

Hope in Darkness

I loved praying the Mass at the Carmelite Monastery at Dachau. We'd entered it through a guard tower, which added to the feeling that prayer sanctifies. The two-sided chapel separated by a screen gave an infinite appearance. Oh, the love beyond horror…

That night, I met near our Munich hotel with one of my St. Francis Xavier Lay Missionary Society predecessors, who had come to Germany for the Oberammergau Passion Play, just as I had. He mentioned some tidbits of Church architecture from his time studying from Benedictines.

During our chat, I found that the German beverages really did taste nice. Alcohol no longer deterred me. Returning swiftly to the hotel after, though, I discovered I'd lost the Cool Turtle Tita had gifted, one that had served me well in choir. I would miss it.

Day 4: Altötting and Munich’s Nymphenburg Palace

By the following morning, Day 4 my lost luggage had arrived. The day felt on a more stable start. Our group bussed to Altötting. The village reinforced yet more my newfound awe at the generations of Catholicity even among kings and emperors. That they literally gave their hearts to the shrine of Altötting quite shocked me.

Our group prayed Mass that morning with Capuchin Franciscan friars in a lovely church where St. Konrad was buried. I remembered meeting a Conrad in Malaysia. The church's modern minimalist design reminded me of the Franciscans with whom I had stayed mere days before in Singapore.

After Mass, we wandered Altötting. The village center had gorgeous churches including a Jesuit Baroque one. We saw a papal basilica! I tended to love especially paintings of the Assumption and the Annunciation. I also tended to seek depictions of Carmelite, Dominican, Jesuit and Franciscan Saints.

We returned to Munich and saw major, elegant and historic sites such as the Marienplatz. Day 4 ended stressfully, however, when I forgot my late mother’s purple water bottle in the lobby of the Nymphenburg Palace. Thankfully, our thoughtful tour guide Maddalena helped me to book a cab. I learned that speakers of English as a second language do much better talking to each other in English than with native speakers. As a teacher and language learner, I realized this made sense.

Oberammergau Passion Play

Day 5, we traveled to Oberammergau for its Passion Play. My sister Vana and I spotted a woodcarving shop named “Lang,” our family name. We got a photo outside it, and she bought a wooden cross within. She’d later gift it to Therese, the office manager at Our Lady of Wisdom Newman Center and her former boss, who has a wall of crosses. Before the Passion Play I also saw the incredible church in Oberammergau on whose grounds people once performed the Passion Play. During the intermission, I decided to purchase a CD of the chorus’ music.

As for the Passion Play itself, that German chant music was among the best I’ve experienced. Though the show was in German, our book of the script reminded me of the Chinese and Mongolian as well as Latin-to-English missals I've read before.

I loved the show's outdoor seating and six hours’ setting sun. I loved most the Living Images (tableau vivants), which had such gravitas with the chorus’ sound. I felt amazed at how quickly key moments of Jesus’ life played out on stage.

With the outdoor setting of clouds rolling and birds chirping across the life of Christ, I realized more deeply how God entered and left this world on a day as mundane as ours. Yet millennia later, we found ourselves in a village perhaps known to my ancestors, where people have performed God’s story for centuries. I felt amazed to think that this place so unfamiliar to me could have been a place to which my own forefathers journeyed, too.

Austrian Joy

Pilgrimage Day 6 began on a lighter note with the ‘fairy’ King Ludwig II, whose Neuschwanstein Castle we saw inspired Walt Disney. I loved his dedications there to Jesus and the apostles. I also enjoyed more Bavarian breakfasts and continued my habit of trying different pretzels daily. In quaint Fussen, I got a Bavarian hot dog! Our pilgrim group dipped in and out of Germany and Austria till the day’s end when we arrived in Salzburg.

Day 7, Salzburg felt so lovely. The window from our hotel in Salzburg reminded me both of the view I saw from the Knights of Columbus headquarters in New Haven, Connecticut 2OI7 and the view I saw last fall 2O2I on conference in Portland, Ore. From there we set forth to see the city.

We learned about a local hero, St. Rupert. We also got to spot many places where “The Sound of Music” filmed. I felt glad to have seen that film amid the pandemic.

Mozart was huge in the area. His birthplace amazed me by its Catholicity. I hadn’t realized that so many famous people of our times had shared my faith. I got to lector our first reading during the Mass in an ancient side chapel of St. Peter’s. I felt in awe to think that very known people received their sacraments where I got to proclaim God’s Word.

Amid the Bavarian journey, architectural styles about which I got used to hearing were Baroque, Rococo and Gothic. Around 5:45 p.m. I note, “The angelically cantankerous clanging of these churches’ bells.” I enjoyed Europe's presence.

Vienna Celebration

Day 8, we saw Vienna. St. Stephen’s Cathedral and its surrounding plaza reminded me of Munich, where we began. I felt delighted to see a Kiwanis International logo, too! As for Vienna, the high baroque abbey of Melk we also visited looked gorgeous. We celebrated Mass in an extremely ornate sacristy. Benedictines really know architecture! I liked how we got to pray the Divine Office in German. I understood some translations!

Once we reached our Vienna hotel that night, Fr. Nathan bought drinks. We celebrated how while we've been on pilgrimage, Pope Francis elevated one of Fr. Nathan’s seminary classmates Bob McElroy to cardinal. I also felt delighted that bishops in Mongolia and Singapore ascended. With essentially open bar access, I tried some Austrian wine, plus a gin and tonic with Botanist. I like sweet and sour most.

Day 9, we saw glorious palaces, such as the Habsburg palace, Schönbrunn. I enjoyed the Danube River. Frankly, we'd seen so many places and things this whole trip. Perhaps at a later date, I'll scroll through my booklets, journal entries and photo history to name all.

Our final stop of the pilgrimage was the gorgeous and at times simple abbey of Cistercians (also Benedictines). I loved their blend of Gothic and Baroque. On May’s last day, enjoying our last supper, we said goodbyes in Vienna. Colorful upside-down umbrellas adorned the narrow stone alleyway beside where we stayed. Our guides encouraged us to see Rome and Italy.

Czechia, Kansas and Nevada | June 2O22

From Vienna the next morning (Day 1O) I took a train to Prague, Czechia. The scenic countryside reminded me of taking the trains across China, summer 2OI7. This time aboard the ride, in Europe, I met someone speaking Chinese too—from Malaysia!

In Praha, I reunited with pilgrim friends I met at World Youth Day Panamá 2OI9. We walked over a dozen incredible sites, up to, around and across the river. So many incredible churches. The good St. King Wenceslaus was relevant. My friends were so kind!

The apartment in which we stay some distance from downtown reminds me distinctly of the apartment in which I stayed just outside of the main part of Erdenet, Mongolia, as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I realized the commonality of the post-Soviet periods. Sleeping in the apartment felt like a meaningful first step on the path back to Mongolia.

Day 11, I experienced a Mass in Czech! My last supper in Praha included many goods recommended to me by a Czech student who began attending Our Lady of Wisdom Newman Center after having entered as a freshman the fall before, in 2O2I. She and I had gotten to hike together the spring before I went on mission. I looked forward to sharing with her what I experienced.

Onward Across America

Day 12, I saw Mozart's grave before a rush to the airport. I recalled a New Haven, Conn. 2OI7 experience of the same. Many of my solo journeys have wrapped up with pleasant cemetery visits.

From Czechia, I flew from to Paris, Francis, to Detroit, Michigan to Nashville, Tennessee, to Kansas City. The road felt wild, but the tickets were more affordable. Historically, my Austrian ancestors emigrated from modern-day Czechia to Kansas, which made my transatlantic trip feel more special. Eventually I reached Topeka, Kan. for my cousin Sarah’s reception after wedding Noah. I enjoyed how the uncle and aunt with whom I stayed had also been in Singapore, Germany, Austria and Czechia, which gave me lots to talk about.

Siblings and I had driven from Vegas after my youngest brother’s high school graduation to see Cousin Sarah and Noah in Arizona May 2O2O, after I wrote my Mothers’ Day reflection. Seeing them married just over a couple years later was a lovely experience. That Arizona trip, which connected to a family adventure at Saguaro, Capitol Reef and Great Basin National Parks as well, was also fun for letting me progress in the “Blue Lions” story of my younger sister Becky’s “Fire Emblem: Three Houses.”

Journal Swap

Monday, June 6, 2O22, aboard the aircraft heading from Kansas to Vegas, I logged my last entry in the black hardcover Journal #16. I had received it Christmas 2O2O from my youngest new stepsister Nikki as a Secret Santa gift, the same year our parents married. I was at that Christmastime about to begin penning in the cork journal my sister Becky gifted me the Christmas 2OI9 before. I began writing in Nikki’s journal nine months later, Sept. 17, 2O2I, during my first diocesan conference in Vegas. It accompanied me all the way around my most recent circumnavigation of our globe.

After Kansas, I returned briefly to Vegas, where I began writing in my silver Journal #17 from my 24th birthday, Seattle 2O2I. I carpooled to Reno to counsel my first in-person American Legion Nevada Boys’ State conference since 2OI6. Turns out my cousins in Kansas had also headed to Boys’ State.

Nevada had only four on Boys' State staff this year counting me, as opposed to our usual years of dozens on staff. So I got promoted to senior counselor, which felt rad. I did so well, I received the "Spirit Award." Our awarded commented they considered calling it the, "Daniel Lang Award," because I'm such a person.

I remained in Reno for the final Masses of our beloved pastor retiring. I felt glad to have experienced his final month as our pastor on his pilgrimage through Europe. I teared up while singing for him our farewell, an Irish blessing.

California, Nevada and Beyond | July 2O22

When July began, I worked as a Lions Club summer camp counselor for disadvantaged children of rural Nevada, as hired on by my parish friends I saw in Singapore, Germany and Austria, Murshed and Sarah. We spent the week out in Portola, Calif. I saw an American ger (yurt) there, which felt like a second step on the path back to Mongolia.

Camp was where I technically celebrated my 25th birthday. I enjoyed archery (first time!), kayaking and swimming that day since they were among the activities. I also summited the Alpine Tower (MTV) before the week’s end, which was rad. When I got back to Reno, a couple friends treated me to a more proper celebration, including Marvel Studios' newest film. A stranger after bought us shots too, which was kind! The lil' bar brought L.A. to mind.

In entertainment news, I’ve kept up with Marvel Studios’ films. I don’t have Disney+ but enjoy cinemas. Last September 2O2I in Vegas I saw “Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” with my older brother and his girlfriend. Then in November with Newman Center students in Reno I drove some to see “Eternals.” That December before the KofC wedding, I saw “Spider-Man: No Way Home” with Murshed and Sarah. While on mission in Singapore, I brought young adults to see “Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness.”

And as a belated Birthday 25 adventure in Reno after the mission and pilgrimage, I saw with friends “Thor: Love and Thunder.” I preferred "Shang-Chi," "Eternals" and "Spider-Man," though. When “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever” releases, I’ll be back in Mongolia! Perhaps I’ll see it with students as I had with “Ip Man 4.” Or maybe I’ll see it with a lovely lady, such as with “Abominable.” Either way, I hope to see it with folks.

Change

My first Sunday back in Reno, I also experienced our parish’s new leadership. Some compared the feeling to when, in "Harry Potter," Snape became headmaster after Dumbledore. I certainly felt since then out of place in that ol' home many times. I felt dismayed that many I knew left the parish. Still, I persevered in prayer.

Since the campus outreach minister role fell through due to a change in leadership, the rest of July into August I recuperated in Vegas, given the many months of travel and service. I underwent what I called my ‘quarter-life crisis.’ Amid this period, I felt convinced to seek foreign service as my next career step. Still, I followed through on my commitment to my ol' pastor to experience discernment with the Jesuits.

Since I forgot my recently-begun Journal #17 in Reno, I preemptively began Journal #18 before the Jesuit retreat in Culver City near Los Angeles. I liked writing in it on retreat, though, since it was modeled after an illuminated manuscript of Genesis. Hence, it felt Biblical. (Journals #17 and #18 were both gifts from my 24th birthday 2O2I.)

Vegas, Reno and Montana | August 2O22

Back in Vegas, I returned to daily Masses at St. John Neumann. I began to feel again the stability of attending Masses there before mission. Our parish wished its summer seminarian farewell. I answered the call to our parish's Visitation Ministry, remembering my friends I served in Reno.

Mother’s birthday came with the Feast of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. St. Clare’s feast followed shortly after. I penned a special thank-you that day.

In video-gaming news, after two and a half years, I finally completed the “Blue Lions” story of “Fire Emblem: Three Houses.” I had heard about the game fall 2OI9 in Mongolia. I began it spring 2O2O on Becky’s Switch and finished it on my older brother’s and his girlfriend’s Nintendo Switch. Coincidentally the game features a years-long time skip. That made my prolonged campaign feel more realistic. I don’t prioritize video games the way I had when I was a teen… Nor do I expect to be gaming overseas.

Reno and a Mongol

At August’s end, I headed back to Reno to welcome new honors students to my alma mater. I carpooled with the family who led my home parish’s music ministry at SJNC. A daughter of the family had been one of my family foundation’s first scholarship recipients, back in 2O2I. In 2O22, my siblings and I awarded our second year of high school recipients and our first year of undergraduate ones.

In Reno again, I felt particularly excited to meet in person a Mongolian undergraduate student I taught last summer online, who had come to work this summer on a U.S. Department of State J-1 Visa Exchange Visitor Program. On that visit, my thesis mentor also recruited me to give a talk for a speaker series online on Oct. 12, just two days before I'd leave for Peace Corps service!

During the week, I met too with a couple of older gentlemen from Boston, Massachusetts. A priest celebrated a beautiful Mass that honored me as a 'non-hypocritical' Christian going to serve overseas soon. One particularly enjoyed my Irish blessing to Fr. Nathan, for they too were Irish, and Fr. Nathan had introduced one to the other. The kind men treated my student and me to delicious IHOP, her first time dining in an American restaurant. Seeing her felt like a third experience along my path back to Mongolia.

Glacier National Park, Montana

Then I returned to Vegas both to rehearse my singing for the diocesan conference and to embark with Victor and Jay Li on a trip to Glacier National Park in Montana. I had previously seen Jay on other recent trips with the crew, before my time back abroad. For Glacier, we flew into Missoula, rented a car then drove. We stocked up at Costco then hiked many places.

As a jarring start, Victor and I could have died at Grinnell Glacier. Lightning almost immediately followed by thunder crashed around us by the water. We took cover under some trees as the hail and rain drenched us. On the path down, we saw a double rainbow, three big-horned sheep and made new friends at a dangerous crossing.

Turns out many of the new friends were from New York, so I hoped to see them during my visit in October! The next day on Pitamakan Dawson, we met Melissa Running Crane, a native Blackfoot woman. From her, I learned that one of the professors at my alma mater, a Running Wolf, was from Browning, where the hostel at which we stayed was! I drove a bit to and from the National Park, as well.

Sunday, we hiked Cracker Lake and the Hidden Lake overlook, though our legs hurt. Thankfully, I found a sturdy branch to be my walking staff. Later I borrowed one of Jay's trekking poles. In total, I hiked 43 miles in the three days.

From Coast to Coast | September 2O22

Labor Day weekend began more fully my U.S. 'farewell tour,' with my last National Park trip alongside Victor and Jared for a while. This time we hit Colorado's Black Canyon of the Gunnison, Blue Lakes Trail and Mesa Verde. Amid the weekdays, I visited my high school alma mater with a friend, wandering around during its open house. Teachers were so kind.

After the last parks trip was the Vegas diocesan conference, where I sang for my second year in its choir. I felt amazed to realize how much I'd grown in the past year, since my first Vegas diocesan conference. Singing in the Reno Phil really aided my musicality, too.

I felt glad to welcome my lil’ sister Vana to her first diocesan conference. It amazed her. I felt amused that she described our bishop as ‘aristocratic.’ I had chatted with him before a few times and hadn't named the aura. I felt in awe, though, to experience that weekend a live panel of Dr. Scott Hahn, Mark Wahlberg and Bishop George Leo Thomas on “Father Stu.” The bishop had mentioned the film to me in a discernment conversation back in March.

Utah Retreat

The weekend after conference, my siblings and I went on our first retreat, in Beaver, Utah. I would be heading overseas in less than a month, and our youngest sister Vana would marry next September, the first among us. So this was the last time we five would be together as five singletons in person. I enjoyed the fun and fellowship. A hike, campfire, games and hot springs under budget. That weekend I revealed how I accepted abandoning my previous China dream to instead pursue graduate studies in America if given the chance.

My U.S. farewell tour officially began the Monday right after my siblings’ and my return to Vegas, that Sunday night. I said farewell to my parish at SJNC for the next year. Then I flew with my backpack as my carry-on to St. Louis, Missouri and America’s east. I would be away for three weeks.

St. Louis, “Rome of the West”

I flew that night into St. Louis to discern in the historic Kenrick Seminary. Our new bishop and pastor in Reno had supported me to make the arrangements. I had been reading a Cardinal Dolan book he gifted me, which mentioned Kenrick Seminary.

When I landed, I felt greeted by the opportunity to pray in an airport chapel. I enjoyed hearing Thelonious Monk over the airport speakers. I felt like I was in a very special slice of the Midwest.

The men at Kenrick were astoundingly kind. The classes were stellar. I learned there is a Jesuit school in the area, too, St. Louis University (SLU). I remembered Loyola Marymount from the Jesuit retreat in Culver City. While in St. Louis, I also enjoyed Ted Drewes, touched the Arch downtown and took in the new basilica as well.

I even reunited with a Mongol I knew in Erdenet 2OI9 to 2O2O, Davaakhuu! In fact, she was one of the final Mongols I saw, the night before I departed from my city. Turns out Davaakhuu was working in St. Louis, summer 2O22. The seminarians and I invited her to come take in the sights with us while I was around, and she wound up entering her first church, that basilica. Seeing her not long after having met my student in Reno felt like another step on my path back to Mongolia.

Boston and Cambridge When September Ended 2O22

I rode on a stormy night from Kenrick back to the airport then flew to Boston to see Jesuits and schools. Rain reminds me of Mom. I rode so many hours after landing to reach Jamaica Plain from the Airport. Thankfully, the Orange Line on which I rode had just reopened. Still, it still faced many delays. Nonetheless, I enjoyed bonding with those with whom I rode.

The next morning’s 10:30 a.m. turkeys in the driving lane were hilarious! I wandered with an Irish priest. I felt surprised to experience Mass at a small chapel in the urban Prudential building that day. Freedom Trail after the Commons and Gardens was lovely, despite the rough weather. Columbus lost his statue. I needed to mail Kenrick back my room key since I’d forgotten it. After I mailed it I realized I was right by Berklee College of Music. Right around the corner was St. Cecelia’s Street, where I found a parish I would wind up attending the next morning!

I reconnected with friends from high school and after college. I saw historic sights like the Old Statehouse and Old Ironsides. I got to try many local foods, like seafood mac and cheese, a recommended North End cannoli and a lobster roll sandwich on the Commons. I enjoyed the ‘T’ and understood the story behind Charlie Cards, named for that man on the MTA. (Though, a Peace Corps friend reminds me that's now the MBTA.)

I experienced many Catholic parishes and enjoyed the heritage of the area. My Sunday went from a Mandarin Mass at St. James the Greater in Chinatown to the new cathedral in English! I then walked to St. Cecelia’s, where I would wind up celebrating Mass in the following morning. Then I experienced the best acoustics I’d ever heard in a parish, at theirs. I also met Harvard Divinity School students, who suggested I apply to their program.

I saw so many friends, reconnecting with ol’ Peace Corps allies as well as friends of others’ friends. As far as schools, I saw and experienced Boston University, Boston College, Tufts Fletcher School and Harvard Kennedy and Divinity Schools. I loved Harvard’s libraries and staff. Additionally, I saw the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum as well as the Museum of Fine Arts (MFA) Boston. Both were gorgeous, insightful. I met at Boston College a Jesuit named Václav, reminding me of Prague!

Seeing the original Peace Corps Act in JFK’s Presidential Museum was particularly moving, given my Peace Corps Reauthorization advocacy. I'd even stayed with an M29 Peace Corps Mongolia Volunteer and seen again a fellow M30. Those were great times.

From Boston to New York

I began to feel the sniffles by my first weekend, staying in Cambridge. I attributed this to having gone from Vegas desert weather to pouring New England rain from my very first morning. So, I tried to take it easy on pushing myself too hard. I still visited schools and parishes I intended to see but kept extra vigilant on avoiding the spread of whatever I may have. I would need a negative COVID-19 test as early as the Monday before I’d fly to Peace Corps Mongolia, so I feared issue.

I left the Boston area Saturday morning for the South Station, from which I would take a Greyhound to New York. The journey across town on the buses and Green Line was a bit frantic at first, but eventually it worked out. That filled me once more with joy.

Next Stop, Mongolia

When I write next on the blog, I write from Mongolia and how I arrived. I’ll include too the October days leading up to my trip, for I find them essential to the experience. Two and a half years out of Mongolia, I realize I am a different person indeed than the me who left long ago.

You can read more from me here at memoryLang.tumblr.com :)

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#Peace Corps #Mongolia #memoir #story #Catholic #God #memoryLang #USA #Las Vegas #summer #Coronavirus #COVID-19 #boston #massachusetts #St. Louis #Utah #germany #austria #colorado #national park

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herbalnature · 24 days

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Catch a serene sunset moment over Mirror Lake in Massachusetts, where the sky's cottony clouds reflect perfectly in the still water. It's like nature doubled down on tranquility to start the evening right.

#sunset #Mirror Lake #Massachusetts #nature #tranquility #reflection #water #evening #serene #clouds #landscape #nature photography #peaceful #outdoor #scenic beauty

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nickdewolfarchive · 3 months

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boston, massachusetts 1970

young couple, beacon hill

photograph by nick dewolf https://www.flickr.com/photos/dboo/650919917

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theredhookian · 2 years

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#newenglandpeacepagoda #zen #meditation #tranquility #pool #rock #lilypads #trees #reflection #peacepagoda #peace #pagoda #lily #lillies #tree #blackandwhitephotography #blackandwhite #newengland #massachusetts https://www.instagram.com/p/CjBI5kXLFKM/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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starkwlkr · 2 months

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Could you do fic for Mark Webber with wife reader? (He's Oscar's manager) And they both acted like dad & mom toward Lando and Oscar, especially. Just them spending time together and worries for the boys whenever something goes wrong. Mark does his best to comfort her. Just something fluff and cute. Maybe a little surprise for Mark at the end. I'll let you decide what it was. Tag me later!! Thanks!! :))

work parents | mark webber

thanks for the request!! @pear-1206

When you and Mark were dating, you supported him throughout his career in F1. Now that you were married and had a teenage daughter, you were supporting another person in F1, Oscar. He was young, talented and skilled. You were sure that in a couple of years he would be world champion. You tried to attend as many races as you could, mostly during the summer since your and Mark’s daughter was out of school. Your daughter was studying in Harvard at the moment meaning you and Mark haven’t seen her since spring break. She had secretly made plans to surprise you and Mark at the race. Oscar was the one that had gotten her a paddock pass.

It was Oscar’s first home race so you knew you had to attend. It was going to be a special one after all. You got up early to start getting ready while Mark was getting a few extra minutes of sleep.

Mark still asleep shirtless. He looked so peaceful that you didn’t want to bother him considering he arrived home late the night before, but you had a tight schedule to follow. You walked to the bed and gently placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Mark, you have to get up, honey. Oscar might already be waiting for us at the track. It’s race day.”

“Give me five minutes.” He mumbled.

“I’ll let you do anything when we get back—” You couldn’t even finish since Mark had gotten immediately.

“We wouldn’t want to keep Oscar waiting, hurry up, love.” He tried to give you a morning kiss but you stopped him. “What? Don’t act like you care about morning breath now.”

“I already put on lipstick—”

“And you can put it on again. I want to kiss my wife.” You rolled your eyes, but gave in.

As Mark got ready, you made sure you had your paddock passes. Eventually you made it out of the house and now you were on your way to the circuit. Mark had his hand on your thigh while the other was on the steering wheel. When you made it to the paddock entrance, Oscar was waiting with his girlfriend Lily.

“Hi, I hope we didn’t keep you waiting for too long.” You said as you exited the car. “Lily, so great to see you again.” You greeted the girl.

“Hi Mrs. Webber, great to see you too.” Lily replied.

The group of four made their way into paddock, greeting fans and photographers. Mark held your hand making you remember the times when you were still dating and Mark was still racing. You followed Mark and Oscar to the Mclaren garage since Lily had excused herself to go to the Mclaren motorhome. It felt nice to be back.

“Mrs. Webber!” Lando greeted you as soon as he saw you. “Lovely to see you as always.”

“Hi Lando.” You hugged the Brit.

“No mini Webber today?” He asked when he noticed your daughter wasn’t with you.

“No, she’s in Massachusetts. She sends luck to both of you though.” Mark responded.

Oscar wasn’t one to spill secrets, but when he knew something that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, he would act nervous. He absolutely hated it.

“She is? Nice, right? Who would’ve thought that mini Webber would go to Harvard!” Lando and Oscar were both called by Zak so they excused themselves from the couple.

“Okay . . .” You brushed it off as him being nervous about the race. You scooted closer to Mark. “First home race must be getting to him.” You whispered.

“I’ll take care of him, love.”

“Don’t forget about Lando.”

The 2023 Australian Grand Prix was one big chaotic mess and you were there to witness it. It felt like a rollercoaster of emotions when the race was restarted again. After three red flags and 58 laps, Max had won.

“P8 for Oscar, what a race.” Mark said, sitting beside you. “You can let go of my hand now, honey, race is over.” He gestured to your hand that tightly held his. He couldn’t remember what lap you decided to hold it, but he didn’t mind.

“Thank fuck. I thought I was going to have a heart attack or something.” You let go. “I just wish my baby girl was here.”

“She’ll be home soon. Summer is just around the corner and then we’ll have a moody teen girl with a coffee addiction in our house. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

When Oscar got back to the garage, you and Mark were there to celebrate his points. “You did so well! Good job, Osc!” You hugged the driver.

“Thank you, Mrs. Webber.” Oscar smiled.

“Oh! Where’s Lando? Was it P6 or 7? Who cares? Points for the Mclaren boys!” You cheered as you left to go find Lando. Lando’s race engineer had told you that the driver was in his driver’s room so you walked to the room in search of the Brit.

As you were about to knock on the door, Lando and your daughter came out. Talk about perfect timing. . .

“Mum . . Hi.” Your daughter laughed nervously.

“Listen, I love you to death but what are you doing here? You should be in Boston!” You scolded the girl.

“This sounds like a family matter so I’m just going to go.” Lando tried to leave it you stepped in front of him. “Hi Mrs. Webber.” He innocently said.

“Good job on getting points.” You sighed and gave him a hug. “Now care to explain?”

“It was her idea! I am the true victim here!”

“You jerk!”

“Okay! Stop it.” You raised your voice. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

“I wanted to surprise you and dad by coming here and Lando and Oscar were helping me so I hid here. I’m only here for a couple days . . I missed you guys.” She explained.

“Yeah, what she said.” Lando added.

“We missed you too. I am definitely surprised and dad will be too. Come on, we have to celebrate the Mclaren boys scoring points!” You grabbed your daughters hand and walked together to meet up with Mark and Oscar.

Lando stayed behind a bit confused. “You’re not mad at me, right Mrs. Webber?”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fanfic #mark webber #mark webber one shot

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scrollsofhumanlife · 2 years

Text

Claire DeBarros

B. July 16th 1947

Hyannis, Massachusetts

#Claire DeBarros #Hyannis #Massachusetts #beloved sister and aunt #may she rest in peace #<3

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cameoutstruggling93 · 2 years

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🥰

#nature #lake waban #water #lakes #wellesley college #sometimes i really like where i work #new england #massachusetts #boston(ish)#serotonin #serenity #peace

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notjoelmiller · 1 year

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the protector

MDNI

joel miller x tess's sister!reader (not blood related) summary: Joel promised Tess he would take care of you. It's fine until he finds himself infatuated with you and Ellie accuses him of replacing Tess. wordcount: 5.0k warnings: smut (unprotected p-in-v), unspecified age gap, canon character death, spoilers up to episode 3, background character death, violence, joel is not a good person in this

Tess asks him one night as he stitches her up. Negotiations went wrong, and Joel tends to her carefully. He always does. It was his way of setting things right.

Joel had to carry her back to their apartment. Her skin lost its rosy hue in the process, and she shivered in his arms the whole way back. Joel thought he lost her. He almost did.

With the apartment illuminated by the streams of moonlight peeking through the window, he puts her back together. Needle and threat prod and pull at her skin. The makeshift infirmary that their apartment has become reeks of iron and alcohol.

He killed earlier, with his bare hands. He’s only done that a few times before. He liked using guns or knives, but he beat that man who hurt Tess. Crushed his eye socket just to watch him bleed. It was irresponsible and reckless. His hands tremble with the lingering adrenaline mixed with newfound anxiety. Tess is alive, he tries telling himself. It doesn’t quell the shakes.

He has only two stitches left when Tess speaks for the first and only time that night. Her words come out slowly, either from the blood loss or careful consideration.

“If anything happens to me, take care of my sister, okay?” She asks.

Joel pauses, needle hanging just above her skin. His fingers are caked in Tess’s blood, maybe some of a stranger. He’s sure it’s gonna be there in the morning, no matter how much he scrubs his skin raw.

“Okay,” he says.

“Promise?”

“I swear.”

They don’t mention it. Years pass before she asks him to make another promise– to take care of an infected girl. He swears to her again, and when he does he remembers: the farm in western Massachusetts circled on a map, the mysterious kid sister Tess always talks about, the promise he made with blood caked under his nails.

As smoke from the capitol building pollutes the blue sky, Joel wonders if Tess remembers it. Perhaps, while grappling with her last lucid moments before the infection takes over, it brought her peace– the thought of her sister’s safety.

Save who you can save.

Once things calm down, and distance muffles the screeches of the infected, Ellie asks where they’re going.

***

Joel doesn’t see the resemblance. Ellie says she does. It’s in the eyes, she tells him. That determination. Scary shit. Joel can’t deny it, you do have that intense Tess-stare. But the expression is about where the resemblance ends.

In fact, the moment he lays eyes on you, he realizes that when Tess said “sister”, it was an expression– a bond beyond blood. Even if you weren’t related, you were important to her.

“Tess is dead,” he says minutes after you welcome him and Ellie into your home. “Asked me to look after you.”

You excuse yourself after Joel tells you. Ellie elbows him in the ribs when you disappear into the upstairs section of the house. It was a disturbing delivery, evident by your quiet gasps and sobs in the other room, but it was fact. Tess is gone, and Joel has a promise to fulfill. Sugarcoating it won’t change anything.

You fail to emerge from your room before sundown. Ellie tells him that they should clear out and let you grieve, but something keeps him planted in your living room.

It’s cozy, not just by post-infection standards. You somehow keep the place neat, but it still looks lived in. Polaroids sit in frames on top of the fireplace. Most of them are you and Tess. In some of them, she’s younger, before Joel met her in the quarantine zone. Though, others were more recent. If Joel had to guess, the newest photo was taken in the last two years. He never knew how much Tess came out to see you. How much you really meant to her.

You don’t reemerge until the stars come out. Even then, with puffy, but dry, eyes and a monotonous voice you tell the strangers where they can sleep. Hospitable, despite the waves of grief that radiate from your frame.

As you set up the guest rooms, Joel explains that they’re leaving in the morning. He offers you the choice of staying, but tells you that you have a better chance out there than here alone, with nobody watching over you. He doesn’t know if that’s true, but he knows that Tess would have wanted you under his protection.

Ellie tries comforting you in the only way her emotionally-stunted self can. She cracks jokes, tries her best to break the tension. It doesn’t make you laugh. Hell, you don’t even smile. Ellie’s curls into herself, embarrassed, but only because she misses the way your shoulders droop and eyes soften. Joel does see it.

After the pair are settled into the spare rooms, you disappear again. When they wake the next morning, you’re back to normal. Somewhat. You flutter around the house with a backpack and a duffle, shoving personal items and essentials in. You don’t greet your guests, instead you start by ordering Ellie to bring non-perishables from the kitchen to the truck. She nods dumbly and gets straight to work. Joel frowns at her obedience until your eyes land on him.

You lower your voice, “The photos.” Your voice is hoarse at that volume, no doubt exacerbated by your night of grief. “I can’t take them all. If you want one you can– I mean, you don’t need to. Tess didn’t talk much about you, but she sent you after me, didn’t she?” You chuckle. It’s humorless. “I guess you two trusted each other.” You nod to the mantle. Only a few photos remain.

He frowns. Had Tess not told you about them? He had assumed that in thirteen years, you would have said something. His hands clench. “Photos ain’t gonna change a thing,” he states.

Your face crumples like he’s just spitten on your sister’s grave. “Maybe.” You turn away. “I’ll help Ellie with the food. Then we can go.”

You work with Ellie to clear out the rest of the food supply. She talks your ear off the entire time you pack. Apparently, she’s thrilled to have you joining her and Joel, though you fear she isn’t actually interested in your company. You think she only talks to you so enthusiastically because you're more responsive than Joel.

Despite your hesitance, you find yourself anticipating joining the pair. It’s not like you have much of a choice in the matter, though. Tess kept you stocked. She kept you safe. With her gone, and her partner heading west, you were alone. In a few months time, you would be out of bullets and meds, and with the winter approaching, the odds would be against you.

Ellie knocks on the side of Joel’s truck. “Do you know how to drive?” She asks, flipping a knife in her hands with a bit too much ease for your liking. You wonder how long she’s had that thing. Thankfully, it looks relatively unused. “Joel doesn’t wanna teach me… but maybe you could give me lessons. It’ll be really fuckin’ cool– plus I could help you guys out and take some driving shifts.”

You shrug, tucking the last pile of cans in the truck bed. Ellie’s standing on the wheel, looking at you with wide, expectant eyes. “So?” She asks, leaning forward so much, you think she’ll fall into the bed.

Joel comes out before you can make that promise. He stomps down the porch steps, telling you and Ellie to get in the car. There’s no urgency to his orders. For that you’re grateful. Driving off in that car means the end of the last twenty years of your life. No more of the farm, no more New England, no more Tess.

You wait for anxiety to come, but it doesn’t. Somehow, you’ve made peace with it all. With Ellie and Joel, your new companions.

Ellie seems attached to you. She’s been chatting your ear off for the better part of the hour. It’s nice. She keeps your mind off grief.

You wonder if this is how Tess felt, when she first found you and took you under her wing. Sure, you were less chatty than Ellie, but you find yourself feeling a strange possessiveness over the girl. You’ve never had to be a role model, someone for a young girl to look up to. You think about Tess, all she did to make sure you were well-adjusted in this world. Ellie seems like a good kid. You just hope that you’ll be able to guide her like Tess did you.

Joel seems less excited to have you, more like he’s carrying out a duty. You suppose that is the case, that Tess sent him to you in her absence. You don’t understand why she kept him around for so many years. He doesn’t appear to be the best company. He’s quiet, though when he chooses to speak it’s curt, leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

He’s not bad on the eyes, though. Maybe that’s why she kept him around.

Ellie nudges your shin with her foot. She stares at you with wide, expectant eyes. “You can sit shotgun,” she says.

You smile, “Thanks, kid.”

***

Joel dreams about Tess. He dreams she’s still with him. Everything’s the same– he's left Boston, Bill and Frank are gone –except you’re absent. Back on the farm, perhaps, doing whatever the hell it was you did there.

Ellie’s still in his dreams, at least most of the time. Sometimes she’s not. Some nights, she’s taller, with a head of curly hair. She’s got the same snark, but less of a tendency to use profanities.

The dreams keep him up. When he eventually falls asleep, it isn’t for long. The dreams come, and Tess says something too close to that day in the capitol or he catches a head of curly hair. Then he’s up, breathing heavily and sweating hard. You notice, of course you do. Tess was like that. She always had an inkling whenever something was eating at Joel. You ask if he wants to talk about it.

Of course I do.

But Joel just shrugs. He wants that companionship, that person to lean on in his struggles, but not in you. You’re not the person he wants to burden.

***

You grieve differently than Joel. You actually take time to talk about Tess, tell stories about her– good and bad. Ellie loves it, grateful to learn more about the woman she could only be with for a short time. The woman who saved her life.

It helps Joel learn about your relationship. He gathers that you came together at the start of the infection. You grew together, learning from each other. You were younger than her, he guesses by at least a decade, and had grown into your own under her guidance.

You and Tess parted ways months before she met Joel. You wanted autonomy, a place to call your own. You wanted the openness of the country and the ability to live off the land, not on FEDRA rations. Tess needed security. She needed to know that she wouldn’t be ripped apart by clickers in her sleep. She wanted a quarantine zone. So, you split up.

But there was– is –no bitterness in that disagreement, Joel finds. When you recall that parting of ways and your desires for different lives, you seem content. It irks him that you have such a strange peace with that, after knowing the fate of your sister, while you stand with him now, alive and well.

There are glimpses of Tess in you. He admits that to Ellie one night after you’ve gone to sleep, hardly a week after you joined the duo. What he doesn’t admit to Ellie is how much of Tess he really sees in you, and that sometimes, he has to stop himself from calling you by her name.

But of course, he slips up. It happens only once. You’re walking behind him, telling some story about a poor sucker who gave you trouble back on the farm. It’s a good story, but coming from your lips? Joel is captivated.

He goes to respond to some gruesome detail of the story, but her name comes out of his mouth. Not yours. Tess. Ellie whips her head around unbelievably fast, eyes so wide he can practically hear her thoughts screaming at him, what the hell Joel?

He’s quick to cover it up. “Tess… she said something like that happened to her once, too.”

Joel’s glad you’re behind him. You can’t see the way his face crumples in shame. Though, he can’t see whether or not you caught it.

When you’re out of earshot, Ellie calls it a Freudian slip. Joel tells her to watch her mouth.

***

You’re softer than Tess from all that time on the farm. Sure, you have your fair share of trouble with raiders and stray infected, and you know your way around a fight. But you’ve never stepped foot in a quarantine zone. You’ve never had to deal with the Fireflies, the grifters, or even FEDRA.

Tess had gone through all of that. She internalized it– let it change her. It roughened her edges enough that even the thought of submitting to Joel made her hackles raise. Not you, though.

You don’t just accept his touch. You practically melt at it. She let him touch her, being intimate physically in ways he could never verbalize, but she never reveled in it. She would never sigh and lean into his hand on her cheek. She couldn’t let her muscles relax in his embrace, but she’d always accept it. After all, she was his.

You’re not, but you take and cherish all that Joel has to give you. You live for it. You could forget about all of your troubles with him. He sees it in the way your hands linger on his when he helps you up after a fight, and he often feels the back of his neck burning with your stares. He likes the attention you give him.

You don’t have to kill much, but Joel’s tendency to protect Ellie from death has rubbed off on you. You kill when needed, and each time, once the body lays still, Joel notices you pause. You take time to observe the life you took, and a profound sadness overtakes you. Not remorse, though. Joel has found that you don’t regret what you had to do. He thinks you got that from Tess.

Unfortunately, that habit of yours teaches him how thoroughly fucked he is.

Joel gets knocked to the ground by a hunter. His head snaps back against the ground. Not hard enough to concuss, but it rattles him to the point that he can’t get the damn guy off of him. In the haze, he doesn’t feel the knife resting on the skin of his neck.

You see it, though, and in moments, you're on the hunter.

Joel is too dazed to realize what had occurred until you’re leaning over him, cupping his jaw gently as you examine his face.

His eyes dance between you and the hunter just inches away. He’s a pile of bloodied flesh. You don’t care. There’s blood on you. It’s thick and coats your arms and torso. All you do is ask Joel questions. Are you alright? Do you think you’re concussed? Do you need help getting up? Your eyes are on him– him alone.

He tries keeping up with your questions. Not just because they’re important, but because he wants to please you. You– who put aside your morals just to dote on him. You– the woman he vowed to protect. You– the new object of Joel’s infatuation.

***

The first time he really touches you, you’re speechless.

You’ve felt his touch before. It’s unavoidable– a graze of calloused fingertips over a wound you can’t reach, a helping hand lifting you over a high ledge, fingers lingering just a moment after handing rations. But this time, it’s different. It’s not accidental, nor the result of your forced proximity.

Ellie’s asleep, snoring softly just a few feet away.

You and Joel had an argument. A minor disagreement, really. He refuses to let you take the night watch and let him sleep. So, you sit in silence.

He’s tearing himself apart with his martyrdom. He sacrifices his sleep so he can take watch instead of you. He takes all the heat in fights, leaving you and Ellie unscathed, but him with unsavory injuries. He gives you and Ellie larger shares of food. You swear he’s lost weight since you’ve joined them. You pointed this all out to him earlier in the night. And he didn’t take it well.

You two don’t argue frequently. For that, you’re grateful. Joel’s not the best company, even by today’s standards, but you’ve come to enjoy having him by your side. He’s courteous, helpful, and has an unexpectedly good sense of humor. But when you get into a disagreement, you wonder why you joined him in the first place. He becomes something else, cold and detached. He’s so venomous and vile that you find your chest hurting with frustration.

You’re both still recovering from earlier. It was a tame disagreement by your standards. Both of you managed to get over it just enough to sit next to each other by the fire. For warmth, you both agreed.

Hours after the sun disappears, the moon and stars being the only light in the sky, Joel shifts. You almost ask what’s the matter, then he takes his hand in yours, resting it on his thigh.

You don’t tense. You don’t look at him. You don’t signal in any way that he’s actually touching you. His fingers brush over your knuckles, calluses scratching against taught skin over joints, and strangely, your heart flutters. He falls asleep like that, your hand in his.

A week later, under the blanket of night, Joel fucks you against a tree.

There’s no tenderness in it, but it’s not like you expected anything different.

He tells you to keep it down. It's an obscene request that he makes as though his hands aren’t up your shirt, grabbing at you like you’re the only person in the world. He makes it seem like the drilling of his hips into you doesn’t make it near-impossible to keep it down.

He makes quick work of you. His fingers deftly rub at your clit until you're swallowing the noises of your orgasm. Joel doesn’t last much longer, pulling out and spilling himself on your thighs.

You don’t talk about it the next morning. You keep the appearance of “normalcy”, for Ellie’s sake. You just hope she doesn’t notice the smiles you share behind her back.

***

His dreams change. Now most nights, he’s back in Boston in his shitty bed that cost way too many ration cards. That doesn’t matter though, because it’s peaceful.

Sunlight peeks through the curtain and warms the skin of his face. The streets outside are quiet. He’s warm, satisfied, and safe.

He’s alone in bed, but someone flitters around the apartment out of view. He hears it: footsteps all around the space, the quiet clang of dishes being stacked on top of each other, a feminine humming.

He can’t move in those dreams, forced to keep his eyes on the bright window– the one with the butterfly.

He wants to call her name. Tess, Tess, Tess. The syllable sits on the tip of his tongue, yet he can’t manage to say it. The word refuses to leave his lips. It’s like his body knows something he doesn’t.

It knows that something is wrong.

***

With every brush of Joel’s fingers against yours, Ellie is watching.

She’s waiting to pounce. Joel knows it. One wrong move and Ellie’s going to say it, accuse him of what he knows she’s thinking.

So, you two like a…

Pass.

Ellie wasn’t stupid. She knew what that meant. Ellie saw it in his eyes when they left Tess at the state house. As he watched it burn with Tess inside.

Not to feel the way I felt…

She read that letter from Bill.

The girl is a quintessential post-outbreak kid. She’s anxious for a fight, angry, and emotionally repressed. But the girl was also raised in a military school, and it made her observant. So every touch your way, every smile at you, and every thought he makes, Ellie knows.

Joel avoids Ellie for a long time, but she manages to get through.

You’re somewhere in West Virginia. You’ve been with Joel and Ellie for about a month, just enough time for fall to settle in.

It isn’t as bad as in Boston where, by the time the leaves turned, the days were too cold to even enjoy the beauty of it. West Virginia, though, sure the nights were chilly, but the days were pleasing.

It reminds him of Austin. Austin never really had a true autumn. The season came with the bloom of red, orange, and yellow leaves, but there was no chill of the impending winter. In Austin, it looked different, but felt just the same– or close enough. He loved it. He misses it.

Joel holds a photo in his hand. The one he took from your mantle the morning you abandoned the farm. It’s you and Tess, beaming at the camera. He keeps it folded in his pocket at all times in case he needs it to bring comfort. Currently he does.

The photo has rubbed away at the seam of the fold. If Joel ever decided to unfold it, to look at you two as one, there would be a white crease in the middle. A divide. He doesn’t, though. Joel never unfolds it and resorts to looking at either of you one at a time.

Now, it’s you staring back at him. A moment ago, it was Tess.

Ellie sits on the opposite side of the fire. You’re sleeping off the last of a fever you managed to catch.

He wants to reach out to you, pull you in his arms until the fever breaks. The urge gnaws at him, makes something twist and burn deep in his gut. He should think. He needs to think. Not with Ellie watching him, though. He needs her off his back.

Here goes nothing.

He says her name, once, curtly. Her eyes widen slightly, just for a moment, but composes herself. She sits up tall. Joel lets her speak first. It takes her a moment, but she speaks like she’s been considering her words for a long time.

“Tess said you didn’t feel the way she felt.”

“I cared for her. For Tess.” Ellie frowns, eyes squinted as she bores into his very being. “A lot,” Joel adds.

“Does her sister know that?”

Joel says Ellie’s name, quietly. It’s meant to be a warning, but as it passes through his lips he can’t help but think it sounds pathetic. Pathetic, like you fucking Tess’s kid sister. His jaw ticks as something putrid curdles in his stomach.

No. No. He refuses to let a child judge him. What does she know about relationships? What does she know about love?

Love? No, not love. Not love. Physical relationships, that’s what this is about. Not love. No, Joel doesn’t love. Not Tess. And certainly not you, not that you matter in this case, because Tess has nothing to do with you.

He looks back at the photo in his hand. Tess stares back at him.

“You’re replacing her, Joel.”

***

Joel isn’t a man to cherish. He loves nothing– nobody. You’ve seen him kill more times than you can count, and not all of those deaths were deserving.

He reveals himself in pieces and only on rare occasions. You learn of his past slowly. He was a hunter. He has a brother, one who left him years ago. He may have had a child at one point. He wanted to be a singer when he was a boy.

You’ve known one thing from the start, and it’s that he tends to you like you’re the only thing that matters.

You found a settlement. Just for the night, they let you stay in a house– a real one, with showers, working locks, nice furniture, and all. You almost cry when you rub the homemade soap bar against your skin. You feel like a new person when you step out of the shower, your skin soft and glowing in a way you haven’t experienced in years.

If you had to be honest, the separate bedrooms are your favorite part.

You’re not even out of the shower for a minute before Joel has you beneath him on the bed.

He fists a hand into your still dripping hair and tugs. His tongue pushes its way into your mouth, and you welcome the taste of him– it’s fresh, like the toothpaste you had traded for once you came to town. You chase his lips as he pulls back.

“Couldn’t wait for you to come out, baby.” He adds, “Need you.” You believe it. You believe it wholeheartedly and it makes heat wash through your body. Joel has a way of making you feel like that.

His jean-clad hips rut into your plush thigh. The buckle digs into your skin, nearly camouflaging the sensation of his cock.

The towel you wrapped yourself in has unfolded, leaving you exposed to the cold air of the bedroom. Your nipples stiffen. Joel takes one between his fingers, twisting and pulling as he groans into your mouth. His spare hand works on removing his pants. You explore the expanse of his back.

Deft fingers move from your breasts to your core. Joel’s thumb rubs at your clit, while two fingers trace the seam of your entrance. His fingers are cold, you clench around nothing as they tease you. Joel doesn’t get many opportunities to drag things out, to tease you until tears are running down your face. You love that side of him. It helps you imagine what it would be like to be with him before the infection. But tonight isn’t the time.

You swat his hand away, murmuring, “Don’t need that,” you swat his hands. “Just want you.”

Joel hesitates. You do need that, and he knows you know that fact. It’s been a few weeks since you last fucked. It was sure to be a stretch. His eyes wash over your face, searching for any uncertainty before he nods and notches himself at your entrance.

It’s not a smooth coupling by any means. You rushed into things too fast. His length rubs unpleasantly against your walls as he pushes in. Though, you pull him closer with your legs. You just needed to feel him.

He holds your hips up as he pistons into you. He moves slowly tonight. There’s no urgency, no threat that Ellie might come around the corner and catch you in the act. You indulge in the rare intimacy.

You dig your face into the crook of his neck. Every inhale you take is purely him. “Driving me crazy, Miller,” you whisper.

“Good,” Joel laughs. He’s never laughed during sex before. You figured he wasn’t the type, that letting loose like that in the act wasn’t his style. Apparently not.

You reach your peak quicker than expected. It washes over you in lazy waves, softening your muscles and melting you into the bed beneath you. It drains you. Or maybe the luxury of the bed beneath you is causing your exhaustion.

Luckily, Joel’s not far behind, pulling out and working himself to his peak. He cums on your stomach, your newly cleaned skin now dirtied with your sweat and his seed. You’re too tired and too blissed out to care though. You can always shower again in the morning.

Joel takes your discarded towel to clean your stomach. He throws it to the ground before settling himself at your side. You roll over, letting him adhere to your back.

Your eyes are drawn to the towel. Next to it are Joel’s discarded jeans. Something sticks out of his pocket. You squint.

It’s Tess– one of the pictures of her you had on your mantle. You were in that photo too, but it was folded in half, and now you had to stare at your deceased sister. The photo was one you had offered to Joel. Photos ain’t gonna change a thing, he had said back then on the farm. It irked you. It irked you for so long that you had been hesitant at the start of your relationship– if that's what you could call this. Back then, you had been afraid of getting attached to him. You were scared he wouldn’t ever call you his.

But he had the photo, and it’s… somewhat disturbing. He had been so cold then when you asked him. You only offered it because you thought he and Tess were closer. After all, she asked him to take care of you, and he listened. Then he turned it down, and you realized– assumed –you misinterpreted them. You accepted it as the truth.

He has it now, though. However many months later he has that photo.

Joel’s arm tightens around your waist, pulling your back closer to his chest. “What are you thinkin’ about?” He sounds tired.

You thought he was asleep, assuming the relative safety of the settlement and your nightly activities would be enough to knock him out. You’re tired too. Part of you wants to forget it, lean back into Joel’s arms and fall asleep. Then you see her staring back at you, her smile frozen in time.

You wonder if Joel buried her. You wonder if Joel shot her. He didn’t tell you much about her passing, only that she had been infected, and chose to end it before turning. He never said how it ended.

“Were you and Tess together?”

It’s a simple question. So simple, and yet Joel hesitates. You count the seconds it takes him to answer you. One, two, three, four, five, six–

“No.”

Six seconds.

“Okay.”

Tess smiles back at you.

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