#Penicillin Blues

[billspenglerphotography]

White, blue and green mold enveloping an orange I bought a couple of days ago. I hate to waste an opportunity to photograph something interesting. This was a macro taken with my Nikon D800 and a 70-300mm with a #6 close-up filter.

https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/113777184

#orange #green #blue #blue-green #mold #mould #fungus #antibiotics #Penicillin #fruit #still-life #macro #macro photography #macro captures #waste #decompose #decomposition #beautiful decay #decay #rot #photography #photograph #digital #white #colorful

[lamargee]

#visual kei #vkei #blue moon #penicillin

[sassenach77yle]

He opened his eyes and gave me a dark blue look.

“Sassenach,” he said softly.

“What?”

“I would like ye to touch me . . . without hurting me. Just once before I sleep. Would ye mind much?”

I stopped and drew breath, terribly disconcerted at the realization that he was right. Caught up in the emergency and worry of his condition, everything I had done to him during the day had been painful, intrusive, or both. Marsali, Brianna, Roger, Jemmy—all of them had touched him in gentleness, offering sympathy and comfort.

And I—I had been so terrified at the possibility of what might happen, of what I might be forced to do, that I had taken no time, allowed no room for gentleness. I looked away for a moment, blinking until the tears retreated. Then I stood and walked over to the bed, bent, and kissed him, very softly. I stroked the hair back from his forehead, smoothed his brows with my thumb. Arch Bug had shaved him; the skin of his cheek was smooth, hot against the side of my hand. His bones were hard under his skin, framing his strength—and yet he seemed suddenly fragile. I felt fragile, too.

“I want ye to sleep beside me, Sassenach,” he whispered.

“All right.” I smiled at him, my lips trembling only a little. “Let me brush out my hair.” I sat down in my shift, shook out my hair, and took up the brush. He watched me, not speaking, but with a faint smile on his lips, as I worked. He liked to watch me brush my hair; I hoped it was as soothing to him as it was to me. There were noises downstairs, but they were muffled, safely distant. The shutters were ajar; firelight flickered against the glass of the window from the dying bonfire in the yard. I glanced at the window, wondering if I ought to close the shutters.

“Leave them, Sassenach,” he murmured from the bed. “I like to hear the talk.”

The sound of voices from outside was comforting, rising and falling, with small bursts of laughter. The sound of the brush was soft and regular, like surf on sand, and I felt the stress of the day lessen slowly, as though I could brush all the anxieties and dreads out of my hair as easily as tangles and bits of pumpkin vine. When at last I put down the brush and rose, Jamie’s eyes were closed. I knelt to smoor the fire, rose to blow out the candle, and went at last to bed. I eased myself gently into the bed beside him, not to jostle. He lay turned away from me, on his side, and I turned toward him, echoing the curve of his body with my own, careful not to touch him. I lay very quietly, listening. All the house sounds had settled to their night-time rhythm; the hiss of the fire and the rumble of wind in the flue, the sudden startling crack! of the stairs, as though some unwary foot had stepped upon a riser. Mr. Wemyss’s adenoidal snoring reached me, reduced to a soothing buzz by the thickness of the intervening doors. There were still voices outside, muffled by distance, disjointed with drink and the lateness of the hour. All jovial, though; no sound of hostility or incipient violence. I didn’t really care, though. The inhabitants of the Ridge could hammer each other senseless and dance on the remains, for all I cared. All my attention was focused on Jamie. His breathing was shallow but even, his shoulders relaxed. I didn’t want to disturb him; he needed rest above all things. At the same time, I ached to touch him. I wanted to reassure myself that he was here, alive beside me—but I also needed badly to know how things went with him. Was he feverish? Had the incipient infection in his leg blossomed in spite of the penicillin, spreading poison through his blood? I moved my head cautiously, bringing my face within an inch of his shirt-covered back, and breathed in, slow and deep. I could feel the warmth of him on my face, but couldn’t tell through the linen nightshirt just how hot he really was.

He smelt faintly of the woods, more strongly of blood. The onions in the dressing gave off a bitter tang; so did his sweat. I inhaled again, testing the air. No scent of pus. Too early for the smell of gangrene, even if the rot was beginning, invisible under the bandages. I thought there was a the tissue? Some breakdown product of the snake’s venom? I blew a short breath through my nose and took in a fresh one, deeper. “Do I stink verra badly?” he inquired. “Uk!” I said, startled into biting my tongue, and he quivered slightly, in what I took to be suppressed amusement. “Ye sound like a wee truffle-pig, Sassenach, snortling away back there.” “Oh, indeed,” I said, a bit crossly. I touched the tender spot on my tongue. “Well, at least you’re awake. How do you feel?” “Like a pile of moldy tripes.” “Very picturesque,” I said. “Can you be a trifle more specific?” I put a hand lightly on his side, and he let his breath out in a sound like a small moan. “Like a pile of moldy tripes . . .” he said, and pausing to breathe heavily, added, “. . . .with maggots.” “You’d joke on your deathbed, wouldn’t you?” Even as I said it, I felt a tremor of unease. He would, and I hoped this wasn’t it. “Well, I’ll try, Sassenach,” he murmured, sounding drowsy. “But I’m no really at my best under the circumstances.” “Do you hurt much?” “No. I’m just . . . tired.”

He sounded as though he were in fact too exhausted to search for the proper word, and had settled for that one by default. “Little wonder if you are. I’ll go and sleep somewhere else, so you can rest.” I made to throw back the covers and rise, but he stopped me, raising one hand slightly.

“No. No, dinna leave me.” His shoulder fell back toward me, and he tried to lift his head from the pillow. I felt still more uneasy when I realized that he was too weak even to turn over by himself. “I won’t leave you. Maybe I should sleep in the chair, though. I don’t want to—”

“I’m cold,” he said softly. “I’m verra cold.” I pressed my fingers lightly just under his breastbone, seeking the big abdominal pulse. His heartbeat was rapid, shallower than it should have been. He wasn’t feverish. He didn’t just feel cold, he was cold to the touch, his skin chilled and his fingers icy. I found that very alarming.

No longer shy, I cuddled close against him, my breasts squashing softly against his back, cheek resting on his shoulder blade. I concentrated as hard as I could on generating body heat, trying to radiate warmth through my skin and into his. So often he had enfolded me in the curve of his body, sheltering me, giving me the warmth of his big body. I wished passionately that I were larger, and could do the same for him now; as it was, I could do no more than cling to him like a small, fierce mustard plaster, and hope I had the same effect.

fit the rounds of his buttocks. They tightened slightly in surprise, then relaxed. It occurred to me to wonder just why I felt I must lay hands on him, but I didn’t trouble my mind with it; I had had the feeling many times before, and had long since given up worrying that it wasn’t scientific. I could feel the faintly pebbled texture of the rash upon his skin, and the thought came unbidden of the lamia. A creature smooth and cool to the touch, a shape-shifter, passionately venomous, its nature infectious. A swift bite and the snake’s poison spreading, slowing his heart, chilling his warm blood; I could imagine tiny scales rising under his skin in the dark. I forcibly repressed the thought, but not the shudder that went with it.

“Claire,” he said softly. “Touch me.”

I couldn’t hear his heartbeat. I could hear mine; a thick, muffled sound in the ear pressed to the pillow. I slid my hand over the slope of his belly, and more slowly down, fingers parting the coarse curly tangle, dipping low to cup the rounded shapes of him. What heat he had was here. I stroked him with a thumb and felt him stir. The breath went out of him in a long sigh, and his body seemed to grow heavier, sinking into the mattress as he relaxed. His flesh was like candle wax in my hand, smooth and silky as it warmed. I felt very odd; no longer frightened, but with all my senses at once preternaturally acute and yet . . . peaceful. I was no longer conscious of any sounds save Jamie’s breathing and the beating of his heart; the darkness was filled with them. I had no conscious thought, but seemed to act purely by instinct, reaching down and under, seeking the heart of his heat in the center of his being.

Then I was moving—or we were moving together. One hand reached down between us, up between his legs, my fingertips on the spot just behind his testicles. My other hand reached over, around, moving with the same rhythm that flexed my thighs and lifted my hips, thrusting against him from behind. I could have done it forever, and felt that perhaps I did. I had no sense of time passing, only of a dreamy peace, and that slow, steady rhythm as we moved together in the dark. Somewhere, sometime, I felt a steady pulsing, first in the one hand, then in both. It melded with the beat of his heart. He sighed, long and deep, and I felt the air rush from my own lungs. We lay silent and passed gently into unconsciousness, together.

Cap 93 choices ~ THE FIERY CROSS

#outlander #outlanderedit #the frasers #outlander starz #jamie fraser #outlander series #outlander fanart #samheughan #jamie&claire #jamie and claire #dr claire randall #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #caitrionabalfe #outlander books #outlander season 5 #outlander 5x09

[brighttears]

reader is pregnant and doesn’t tell Joel until she like 6 months or 7 months pregnant that she like hides it with jumpers and what not until the end of ep8 with David , Ellie and Joel notice her stumbling and breathing heavily like she’s gonna faint that’s when she uncovers her coat and his response is not good and Ellie just in shock so very angst .

Joel Miller x f!reader 

Warnings: mentions of death, canon violence, mentions of abortion and death of a baby, pet names (baby)

Word count: 2k

A/n: yay first request!

– 

Hell no you didn’t plan for this. But by the time you noticed the bump, you couldn’t go back. The first thing you did was tell Maria, who was thrilled. You sat and had a long talk with her, and she made you feel much less afraid, even excited about it. Jackson was a safe place. There were plenty of kids there already, even a school. It was the next day that Joel told you about the plan to see what you could find at the university where the Fireflies might be. Maria tried her hardest to talk you out of it, but now having spent over a year barely leaving Joel’s side, no way were you staying back. Knowing you’re carrying his baby made you only more sure about the decision.

The one good thing about winter was your big fluffy coat and layers. That really is the only good thing, though. Now six months along, it was getting harder and harder to hide, although the lack of food made you look more like four months rather than six months pregnant. Also you were growing more and more uncomfortable. You excused it as maybe a cold, which worried Joel greatly, because it wasn’t like any cold he’d ever seen. You didn’t want to be a burden but you were fucking ravenous. To make up for it you went out hunting often, until a couple months ago, when you couldn't get away with lying down on your belly to use the rifle.

Jackson provided the best food and care you could ever ask for, and Maria was very supportive, but you were scared. By that point, though, there wasn’t really anything you could do. Every day that you didn’t have a miscarriage, you were grateful. Every morning you woke up knowing Joel and Ellie were both safe and with you, you were grateful.

And then Joel got stabbed.

You hated yourself for not doing anything, only holding Ellie behind you as Joel fought off the raider. When Joel turned and you saw the rusty blue protruding from a circle of deep red on his abdomen, the breath was knocked out of you. Before you could yell “Don’t” he had already pulled it out.

Ellie was the one to get you out of there. She had to basically shove you two on the horse for her and Joel and then jumped (impressively, all on her own) onto your horse. You used one hand for the reins and the other to try to keep Joel’s wrapped around you but you almost got pulled down yourself when he fell to the ground. It didn't take long but took too long at the same time to find the neighborhood, then you and Ellie strained to get him set up in a basement. Your hands were trembling as they put pressure on the wound. You felt useless. Your head was swimming from the panic and fear mixed with hunger and exhaustion. Your stomach hurt. 

Still, you insisted you be the one to go out a hunt, but Ellie was adamant that you stay. 

“You couldn’t hold a gun steady if you tried.” she tried to joke, referencing your almost vibrating hands. You didn’t laugh, just finally nodded. While she was gone, Joel woke up. He did a terrible job trying to convince you to “take the girl and run.”

“Are you fucking joking? You hit your head, too? No wait seriously, did you hit your head?”

Between the time he fell back unconscious and Ellie came back, your mind cleared just enough to search the house for something to stitch him up with. All you could find was thread, which was definitely not ideal, but it was all you had. At the very least, you were able to use your lighter to try to sterilize the needle. 

While it was very concerning when Ellie came back with penicillin, then going straight back out, too quick for you to question her, the look in Ellie’s eyes when she came back scared the shit out of you. But once again she made you stay with him, “You have to. I know you’ve been sick and I’m not. I'm healthier than both of you combined. Just take this…” she had grabbed your hand and wrapped your fingers around a knife, “and don’t get killed.”

So, you handled it.

The penicillin worked along with watching your struggle killing the intruder to get Joel, although still weak, to his feet. You found where Ellie was and went after her on foot–you did puke when you saw the bodies hung like pigs in the shed–and then were guided the rest of the way by the smoke. The fear alone was enough to make you nauseated again, and after the adrenaline wore off some and you’d created some distance between you and the resort, it caught up with you and you eventually collapsed. 

Joel took your face in his hands, eyes wide, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m–Joel, I, no, I—”

“What? What is it? Tell me.”

“Joel…”

“What is it?” he demanded.

You couldn’t hide it anymore. You unzipped your jacket and unbuttoned the lighter one beneath it, revealing your pregnant belly. Joel’s face dropped.

“You’re pregnant?”

You nod timidly.

“This why you been so sick?”

You nod again.

“You’re havin’ a fuckin’ kid?”

“I guess so.” you give him a faint smile but it doesn’t last long.

“How could you.” Joel breathes out.

 Tears well up in your eyes at his harsh tone, “I thought, maybe–”

“What, that’d we’d make a family? No. No. I don’t want a family. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? How stupid you’re being?”

“Joel, I–”

“No! That thing’s gonna kill you! I don’t want it.” Joel enunciates the last sentence through his teeth. You start to cry. Joel pulls you in to hold you, then brings you back away by your shoulders, looks into your eyes then down to your belly, then back into your eyes. He pulls you in and then away again, “Baby… in another life… if we weren't–if the world wasn’t like it is, this would be one of the best days of my life.” He squeezes your shoulders. “But it’s not. We don’t live in a world where we can do that. You can’t do this.”

“What about Tommy?”

“What about Tommy?” Joel raises his voice, “Tommy’s livin’ in dreamland. On his fuckin’ commune. I live in the fuckin’ real world, where kids should not be born.”

“What about me?” Ellie interjects and you both look up, having almost forgotten she was there, “You don’t think I was supposed to be born?”

“Ellie, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean you.” Joel gets up to hug her but she breaks free and kneels down to hug you instead, face buried in your collar. You pet her hair and look up at Joel, brow furrowed. 

“How many months along are you?” Joel’s tone remains grim.

“Six months.”

“Six months.”

“I’m sorry, Joel.” you whimper.

Joel almost falls onto one knee, raking his hands through his hair. He starts to breathe heavily and puts one hand on the ground to balance himself. 

“Joel, please,”

He starts to gasp.

“Joel.” you almost cry out. It catches his attention and he looks at you with emotion you can’t identify. Then he lunges to wrap his arms around you and Ellie. 

After a few moments of breathing together, Joel speaks, “Okay. Okay, baby. We’ll figure this out. It’s okay. We can do this.” he raises his head to kiss your forehead and then leans his onto it. “We can do this. Let's get you up. Come on.” he raises you and Ellie gently to your feet. When he looks into your eyes again he wraps his arms around you tightly without a word. Then he brings his arm to take Ellie in with you, his hand on the back of her head, and kisses the top of each of your heads. “We can do this.”

It was basically silent on your way back to the house. You’d decided to stop there just for a little to catch your bearings. Ellie had other plans, apparently, almost immediately falling asleep. She must have been more than exhausted. You and Joel sat on the opposite side of the basement, not wanting to leave Ellie alone. You sat as far away from her as you could so you could talk. The small amount of softness that Joel had grown since you broke the news melted away. 

“How could you do this?”

“Well condoms and abortion clinics are pretty scarce these days, Joel.”

“Don’t fuckin’ joke with me.”

“That isn’t a joke.”

“There are plenty of ways to have a misscarriage, you don’t need an abortion clinic.”

You stop, stunned. “Are you telling me you expected me to find some hanger to shove into myself? Maybe throw myself down a flight of stairs or onto a fucking firehydrant or something?”

He says nothing but continues to glare.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Joel?”

“Me? What the fuck is wrong with you?” He tries to keep his voice low but it is furious, “How could you do this? How could you bring a child into this world? How could you do this to me? I can’t be a fuckin’ father,”

“But you are, Joel. You had a daughter, and you were a great dad.”

“My daughter is dead.” he hisses, “And I am not going to lose another child.” Joel’s lip quivers and he looks to the ground. 

“What about Ellie?”

“What about Ellie?” he goes back to glaring at you and you just look back at him. “Ellie is not my goddamn daughter.” He snaps. You both look over to see if it woke her but she remains still, back facing you on the mattress. “I don’t want a daughter. I don’t want a child. This isn’t only about you.”

“You think I’m only thinking about me? You think I’m going through all this for my sake, being pregnant while starving, traveling across the country in the dead of winter?”

“You can’t blame me for not being able to feed you a fuckin’ five course meal three times a day–”

“I’m not! At what point in this conversation have I ever blamed you?”

“You can’t expect me to provide like a father should. Fuck fatherhood. That’s not a luxury I can afford.”

“So, what?”

“What?”

“Well I’m having this baby–”

“You ever stop to think that maybe you won’t? You ever heard of a stillborn? Even if it lives past birth you expect it to live past a week? A year at the very best? A year of it starvin’–what if we run into a Clicker? Then we’re all dead. What if you don’t make it through childbirth? If you’ve been starvin’ this whole time–and don’t think the deer’ll come on out now that the world knows you’re fuckin’ pregnant. Fuck the baby, this isn’t safe for you.”

“Joel, I don’t know what you want me to say,”

“I want you to tell me you’re fuckin’ joking.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Christ.” Joel presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I can’t fuckin’ handle this.” he gets up and starts heading up the stairs.

“Joel, where are you–”

“Don’t worry, I’m not walkin’ out on you. I’m not that much of a piece a shit, as much as you might think so.” with that, he disappears from sight.

Only a few moments later, Ellie moves. She turns her head to look at you, then gets up and crawls over, turning to rest her back against the wall next to you and peers up at you.

“What did you hear?” you ask her in a hushed tone. She says nothing, just rests her head on your shoulder. 

Eventually, she whispers, “I think you’ll make a good mom.”

“Thank you, Ellie… I don’t know anymore, though.”

“What do you mean?” she moves to look up at you again.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna be a mom anymore. Even if I do… decide to keep it… Joel’s right, how long is it gonna live?”

“Marlene told me about my mom, right before she handed me over to Tess and Joel.” she turns her face ahead and you look down at her now, watching her expression. “She gave birth… in some shitty, abandoned house, all alone. An Infected broke in, broke down the door, she gave birth to me while being attacked by an Infected. She got bit. That's why she’s not around anymore. You know my knife? That’s the knife she used to kill it. Isn’t that crazy? …My mom was fuckin’ badass.”

“Now I know where you get it from.”

She meets your gaze and gives you a slight smile. 

“Sometimes, I’m not sure if I think… she was, you know, right, for giving birth to me.”

“Don’t say that Ellie.”

“Well, I am ‘humanity's last hope’” she mocks a deep voice, “so I guess she was in the right.”

“That’s not all you’re worth, Ellie. You’re a wonderful person. You’re the strongest, smartest, bravest, funniest, most badass kid I’ve ever met. I mean it.” 

She slants a smile. “Yeah, I think you’ll make a good mom. Joel will, too. He just has to get used to the idea. It is kinda fair, for him to be so nervous, you know, with his daughter and all.”

“Yeah. I know. You’re right. He’s right.”

“That’s ok, there are plenty of bachelors in Jackson and at least one of them’s gotta have a thing for pregnant women.” 

You both laugh and you hit her arm, “Gross, Ellie.”

“I’m not wrong.”

“Probably not, no.”

Joel opens the door to the basement and asks Ellie on the way down, “Give us a minute, would’ya?”

“Yes sir.”

Joel surprises you by kneeling down in front of you, putting a hand on your knee. He bites the inside of his bottom lip and his eyes are glistening. You wait, completely still and quiet. 

“Look,” he looks away, maybe trying to fight back the tears but fails when he looks back at you. “I love you. I love you so much. I love you more than I’ve loved any woman in my life.” you start breathing heavier, thinking you might start crying again, too. “You would make a great mom. N’ I loved being a dad. But I know what it's like t’… lose a child. I wanted to kill myself after I lost Sarah.” He points to a small scar just in his hairline, “See that? I tried to shoot myself. But I flinched. I never knew why.” Joel rubs his thumb on your knee. “But now I know. “

#the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller the last of us #joel miller #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst

[teratocrat]

wikipedia tabs i have open on new year's day

Railgun

Gunboat

Loess

Kamchatka Peninsula

Ansible

Hainish Cycle

Key deer

Mount Rainier

Socialism with Chinese characteristics

Xi Jinping Thought

Historical nihilism

Three Represents

Scientific Outlook on Development

Blue crab

Callinectes sapidus

Crab cake

Diamondback terrapin

Turtle soup

Yellow-bellied slider

Red-eyed slider

Littoraria irrorata

Halite

Appanage

Princess

Penicillin

Raffinate

Kaali crater

Hittite mythology and religion

Augury

Dovecote

Fasenjān

Confucianism

Messier 87

Elliptical galaxy

Whirpool Galaxy

Spiral galaxy

Pinwheel Galaxy

Milky Way

Sagittarius A*

Messier 87

History of Christian universalism

Kardashev scale

Grand duke

PSR B1257+12

PSR B1257+12 B

55 Cancri e

Carbon planet

Chthonian planet

Tholin

Luna (goddess)

European rabbit

Heroin

Abscess

Acedia

Weltschmerz

Razor

Synthetic fiber

Marshal of Yugoslavia

[anyotherstar]

I accidentally ate blue cheese when I have a penicillin allergy so I'm currently on hat man levels of benadryl. ask me anything

[kr-cube]

Gisho - PENICILLIN「Blue Moon」

#gisho #penicillin #** #this looks even MORE choppy but anyways #i still have another 3 videos to gif #hopefully soon...

[dgdraws]

Funguary Week 1, Celestial Penicillin

I learned so much about penicillin this week!

(close up of my favorite details)

Penicillin was discovered by Alexander Fleming in 1928 but it was not used to successfully treat infections until 1930. It took ten more years to isolate the purified compound version that would be used to treat meningitis in 1942, earning a Nobel Prize for Fleming, Chain and Florey (the team who isolated penicillin F).

Obviously, I took my main style inspiration from this time period!

Fleming was also awarded the Grand Cross of the Ordre national de la Légion d'honneur, which serves as the central pin in my design!

I color picked my palette from a microscopic photograph of penicillin mold and I gotta say it is pretty spectacular. This is coming from the person who made a capsule wardrobe a few years ago that consisted of navy blue, mustard yellow and white/tan neutrals though so I may be biased.

Thank you as always to @adorkastock for pose references, this one really made the piece come together in my head!

I'm unreasonably proud of that little bottle of penicillin G (thats the injectable kind), I was not sure if white liquid in a clear vial was gonna work with the colors I had available but it looks so so good!!!

I'm a huge sucker for a gauzy layer and I'm very glad I added that element (and the ribbons on the gloves) because it definitely moves it more into the "celestial" realm.

My inspiration notes for this theme were along the lines of "flowing, draped fabrics, ribbons and small metal accents" along with "haughty" for the mood side of things. Altogether, I'm extremely happy with this one! And excited for the next -- I already have an idea percolating :)

(this one is cropped for optimal phone background size XD)

#funguary #funguary2024 #penicillin #40's style #vintage style #illustration #needles #alexander fleming #artists on tumblr #my stuff

[sweaterkittensahoy]

i would love to hear more about jack being bribed. this is the most undisciplined bomb group after all, they have to clean up their record somehow (read: lying and bribery)

The only way to do this justice is to explain the crimes that led to the bribes. And the best way to do that is to call out each man by name.

Bubbles Payne:

The Crime: Being chipper every goddamn morning no matter what.

The Bribe: Jack hasn't sewn his own buttons in two years. Bubbles can sew a button in about two minutes.

Harry Crosby:

The Crime: Doing navigation equations out loud. Including all math symbols needed to complete them.

The Bribe: Two books for every one equation Jack has to hear out loud. Westerns are worth 1.5 other books, as they're Jack's favorite genre.

Curtis Biddick:

The Crime: Thrice-weekly bar fights (average).

The Bribe: A subscription to Jack's favorite muscle magazine. He totally reads the articles. Totally.

Robert Rosenthal:

The Crime: Trying to sing.

The Bribe: Being the best fucking pilot Jack's ever seen and fucking humble about it. Seriously. No bribes necessary, just keep doing what you do, Rosie. Except singing. Which you cannot actually do.

Douglass:

The Crime: Loving puns.

The Bribe: Helps Jack write letters that don't feel stilted or dull.

Blakely:

The Crime: Camp champion for number of penicillin shots needed for VD.

The Bribe: Cold hard cash. Fifty cents a shot.

Brady:

The Crime: Reminding Jack entirely too much of his kid brother.

The Bribe: Accepting Jack's hugs but pretending like he's never been hugged by Jack ever.

Hambone:

The Crime: Wise ass.

The Bribe: His mother's chicken soup. Which reminds Jack of his own mom's chicken soup.

Bucky:

The Crime: Existing.

The Bribe: Existing (Jack admits this one only makes sense if you really get how he and Bucky work.)

Buck:

The Crime: Being secretly feral and convincing everyone except Jack he's not.

The Bribe: Stopping Bucky from singing sometimes.

Demarco:

The Crime: Being a Chicago Italian (Jack's got Irish family in Chicago; it's not a Mob thing, just a neighborhood thing).

The Bribe: Knows how to properly cook cabbage.

Ken Lemmons:

The Crime: Using his hick accent and big blue eyes to convince RAF pilots he's never seen a real British pound and pocketing several dollars a week.

The Bribe: 1 out of 5 pounds ends up in Jack's pocket.

Harding:

The Crime: Not going to the goddamn doctor for his fucking gallstones and nearly dropping dead*.

The Bribe: Visiting Jack every chance he gets and apologizing for, oh, six months.

Helen:

The Crime: Letting people think she's the Colonel's daughter because they have the same name and everyone just assumed**.

The Bribe: Telling Jack the truth (Harding DOES have a daughter named Helen, but she's four) because she can see he has a crush and likes him enough to give him a nudge.

Meatball

The Crime: Being a fucking Husky.

The Bribe: Being a fucking Husky.

(*Actual reason Harding had to leave the 100th. Having had gall bladder surgery, I literally do not know how he ignored it long enough to nearly fucking die.)

(**In actual fact, Actual!Harding had a daughter named Helen who is meant to be the Helen in the show. But for fandom purposes, no she's not, and yes, she is totally playing people about it. It keeps the worst of the flyboys away from her.)

#masters of the air #jack kidd #prompt #feel free to ask for anyone else #this was very fun #air exec daddy is tired #but bribable #papa air exec is fucking tired y'all

[joonipertree]

love in all its glory (in all of its efforts)

Love is a million things. It's fear, fondness, warmth, endearment, the want, the compromises, the desperation.

Rin loves you in all of its complexities.

(or: he fucked up and realised he adores the fuck out of you)

cw: blood (not a lot), brief mention of past head injury.

pairing: Haitani Rindou × gn!reader

tags: angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, Haitani Rin is very much in love, fluff

A/N: I got my heartbroken a few months ago and I wrote this to redefine what love is for me. love takes effort and I simply wish someone would try with their everything.

Rin’s bike had sped through the streets he didn’t really want to care to remember, (hearing the shrieks of fifteen year old you, telling him to slow down. He didn’t listen like he never listened to you back then. ‘You’re gonna get hurt, jackass.’). 

It swerved into your neighbourhood and he nearly crashed to a stop, stumbling onto the curb and letting himself run on autopilot. When he made it to your gate, he jumped over (hearing your grunts as you tried to parkour yourself in like he did. 

‘I am more than capable of doing this but help.’ 

He remembered laughing as he held out his arms for you.)

Rindou’s body slammed into the wooden door, fists thumping in the same pattern you used to do whenever you knocked at the door. His breathing had turned quick and laboured, eyes blurry as he tried to hear for any signs of life but the house was dead without your laughter in it. 

(The sounds of snorts and hiccuping filled his ears, you always laughed like that with only him, always leaned against him.)

He moved, not caring that his bare shoulder bumped into the spiky concrete of your porch where doodles of butterflies and crude drawings had faded with time. 

(‘You’re so disgusting, Rin! Have some respect for my house. Don’t touch my sun!’)

One foot felt the grass and the dew stuck to his sole. 

(‘You literally wear the most basic things it’s fine if they stain, I’m wearing something pretty--- fuck that’s cold.’ )

He jumped over the large protruding rock that had split his head open.

 (Your sobs and wails as clear as day as you shrieked, ‘Rin! Please don’t leave me! I love you!’) 

Why the fuck did he leave? What peace could he have found in your sorrow?

The swing that limply hung by half of its ropes filled his vision. (the memories of him sitting on the once intact seat with tears running down his cheeks flooded his mind. He didn’t remember the reason for his pain but he remembered you, his blue penicillin. You sat in front of him on the ground with your legs crossed, patiently waiting for him to speak.)

(You always listened. Always. Why didn’t he? )

His palms burned as he grappled the jagged bark of the oak tree, nails digging in and toes propelling him upwards (‘Be careful!’). His nail broke. (‘I would probably die if you fell on me right?’) He lost his footing but he only slid an inch before going forward. ('I’ll step ten feet away just in case….do you wanna rob houses?’) His foot solidified on the one sturdy branch there was. ('Listen, you either save the kitty or you die trying…do not throw her off, motherfucker.') Your shrieks echoed through as he moved on quick feet so that his older and burdened body wouldn’t cause him to free fall to the ground. 

Your window was a few inches away from the crooked reach of the tree and he extended his crooked hand to grab onto the ledge. The window was already half way open, (just like the nights when he would sneak in at midnight to find a broken you on the floor, showing the shards of your soul that caused your hands to bleed.) Blood smeared on the underlay of the pane as he pushed it all the way up, head ducking and one leg making it to the floor of your bedroom. 

( ‘Rin.’ 

You would smile through your tears, voice cracking and he wondered if any smile he could ever make out of sheer joy would ever match the one that had tears collecting at the corner of your mouth. If a crack in his heart sounded the same as the one in your throat. )

He stopped and searched the room that was shrouded in emptiness. His eyes landed on the lump of blankets that had a tuft of  hair and black headphones peeking  out from the top. He knew for a fact that the lump in his throat could beat it in its enormity when all you looked like was a tiny ball. You were so fucking small and he fucking wished you were small under his embrace rather than on your own.

What if you disappeared from his grasp as he wrapped you in his arms?

His body heaved in exhaustion, lungs constricting as if to punish him for his sins that only held weight because your pain weighed them down. His heart hurt from its pounding and he knew it wanted to escape, bleed out all of his love for you because all it thought it could do was paint your floors for you to see

 His hair was left dishevelled and tangled, covering half of his face and he wondered what it would take for it to leave his sight for the rest of eternity, what would it take to never blink again if it meant looking at your every small movement and uneven breath. 

He barely saved himself from crumbling to his knees as his shaken legs walked o you, knowing that the only oxygen they would accept is the one that you would provide. His wounded hands push your shoulder towards him, as if they didn’t scream for letting even a drop of his tainted blood to smear your soft skin. 

And when your head landed on his chest, a bit too abruptly, he wished that his ribs could soften so his bones didn’t hurt you. And he held you, not letting him take your warmth but letting himself pour every ounce of kindness you handed to him unconditionally, trying to increase it tenfold. 

There was stillness, the song through your headphones playing into his ear as he pressed his cheek against your head. He couldn’t make it out, didn’t care enough because music would only echo in his hollowed out chest. 

The earthquakes came in waves, limbs twitching as if to find purchase. The trembles were followed by salt water and Rindou was ready to swim you to the shoreline, against the pull of the hurricane.

But, you were still. You were a stable wooden floor that wouldn’t bend under the shoes of man. And he realised belatedly that the tears were his. They were yours to see. Everything that was his was yours and he knew that the day he felt your small chubby hands take his awkward slender ones. A sob clawed out of his throat like it had waited for the day it could see light.

 And you-

(the you who was so human that humanity was loved by him for a second, you whose existence meant the existence of deities that grew out of the earth to watch over it)

 You turned in his hold and held his face, wiping away his pain with a single swipe of your thumb. And he knew that destiny was bullshit when your effort had caused you to look up at him with concern (and with the sun that had decided to wait out its dying days in them.)

He loves you. 

#haitani rindou x reader #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev x you #tokyo manji gang #tokyorev smut #romance #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers rindou #tr rindou #rindou smut #rindou x y/n #haitani rindo x reader #haitani x reader #haitani fluff #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev #mikey headcanon #proud of me #spilled heart #healing

[archlovesvmin]

FRI(END)S Short Film_

I cannot tell if it's good or bad and it's killing me.

A few points-

1. The red string of fate literally in the cover.

2. "The relationship that becomes eternal." (Which is good news, but can also mean friends which was the ost of The Eternals.)

3. Friends in the petri dish? Blue mold? Penicillin-ssi?

4. Small hands. Need I say more?

#vmin #minv #bts #my post #kim taehyung #park jimin #95z #soulmates #pls let it be positive #😫 #FRI(END)S #delulu time

[milkboxmombo]

Obsure AFTG Headcannons

Aaron sleeps with socks on

Nicky collects weird slippers

Andrew loves to use bath bombs, but will never admit it

Neil likes stale popcorn

Matt loves soap operas, the make him ✨feel something ✨ Nicky joins him sometimes

Kevin has an extensive rock collection

Renee love obscure romance thrillers

Allison is really good at anything science related

Kevin doesn't like raisins, the wrinkles make him uncomfortable

Andrew is scared of spiders, webs included

Katelyn collects bugs, she also has an ecosystem in a jar

Dan is intensely competitive with board games

the twins are allergic to penicillin

Allison is afraid of snakes

Neil always keeps weird shirt in his pockets, and he'll randomly walk up to one of the foxes, empty his pockets, then proceed to walk away without saying anything

Kevin's favorite Gatorade flavors are the yellow and green ones

Abby adores the name Ramona

Betsy is allergic to bees

Matt has really bad allergies in the spring, he absolutely can not breathe through his nose

Renee likes to crochet, she teaches Andrew one time, but has never seen him do it in his own time

Andrew secretly likes to crochet, it's something to do with his hands, something more productive than fidgeting, but he hasn't let himself indulge in it…. yet

Neil will buy different fox merch everytime they go to exites

Dan mostly wears athletic wear, but really enjoys randomly dressing up

Matt's favorite food is his grandma's homemade chicken noodle soup with egg noodles

Nicky is allergic to shellfish and peanut butter

Aaron and Katelyn do yoga together, Aaron initiated the routine 

Renee has a septum piercing

Wymack is very passionate about shitty hospital shows

Neil, Aaron, and Andrew all have tooth gaps

Matt and Dan have matching heart lockets

Neil really like weird cat photos, and all of the foxes will show/send them to him at every possible moment

Aaron doesn't like cake

Nicky has an insanely complicated Starbucks order, and all Barista's hate him for it

Allison really likes matcha

Neil loves to lie about really dumb shit for fun

Aaron is bipolar

Kevin is aromantic

Aaron is asexual

Nicky LOVES the sonic franchise

Matt has ADHD

Dan likes to scrapbook and will drag any willing occupant to do it with her, It's usually Matt and Renee

Dan and Matt have scrapbooking dates

Neil at least try anything strawberry flavored

Allison loves Italian food

Wymack, Abby, and Bee all bet with each other

Neil knows how to braid hair

Jean loves dogs

Allison's eyes are a rich green/blue

Matt really likes dinosaurs

Aaron's favorite color is yellow

Aaron, Katelyn, Neil, and Andrew have been forced to go on a double date at least once, and it was the worst experience of their lives

Nicky LOVES chai, he gets Neil to try it once, and Neil has been hooked since

Allison can bench press just as much as Andrew, and they're in a silent competition over who's stronger

Neil is hypermobile, and loves to gross out the foxes

Part One

#aftg #tfc #the foxhole court #all for the game #neil josten #aftg series #andrew minyard #matt boyd #dan wilds #allison reynolds #renee walker #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #kevin day #david wymack #abby #betsy #the foxes #aftg foxes #aftg headcanon #tfc headcanon

[mermaidgirl30]

Look for the Light Chapter 7

- Summary: Aly finds herself trying to escape the Boston QZ. What Aly doesn’t know is Tess is pairing her up with Joel to go on a dangerous mission to find Tommy. Will Aly survive the brooding, moody Joel or will she find herself falling hard for him?

A week had passed by since the first night you camped out in Illinois. You two had made it far into Missouri. You could probably step into Kansas by nightfall if you were lucky. Traveling by foot had taken a lot longer than you thought it would. The roads were rough and long. Your body ached with how many miles you had tracked on foot. Your feet aching with every step you took.

The end of October was closing in, and the evenings were turning colder. It was early in the morning and you and Joel had been walking for a couple hours now. Your legs feeling like they could collapse at any second. Your backpack was so heavy that it felt as if you were carrying a bag of bricks on your back. Your spine would scream at you as soon as you stopped for the night. You couldn’t wait to rest.

You and Joel had barely spoken two words to each other the past few days. Everytime you tried to speak he’d just shut you down before you could finish a sentence. You got the hint that he didn’t want to talk to you. His glares and warning looks had been enough to shut you up. What was his deal though? Did he really hate you so much that he couldn’t even converse with you?

The silence was deafening to your ears. White noise ringing in your ears the longer the quietness took over. You’d had enough of his moping around. You were about to give him a mouthful of hateful words until you came upon an old, abandoned pharmacy.

“Bingo,” Joel said as he stopped in front of the rundown white building. “There’s gotta be something we could use in here,” he said as he walked through the open door. The glass had been blown out and scattered all over the dirt. Some rusty shelves were knocked over, leaving supplies littered on the ground.

You picked up a package of bandages, gauze, and a bottle of alcohol. This stuff was like gold nowadays, hard to come by. You were surprised someone else hadn’t found it first. You stuffed the supplies in your bag and closed up the zipper tightly.

“You think anyone picked over the place before us? It sure seems like they left behind a lot if they did,” you said to Joel.

“Honestly I’m surprised there’s as many supplies as there are. We could use a ton of this,” he said as he shoved some cans of food and medical supplies in his bag.

You picked over some of the other supplies on the ground. The one thing you found useful was a bottle of antibiotics. A bottle of Bacitracin and Penicillin sat together in a small pile. Holy shit these would definitely come in handy on your journey. Perfect. You showed Joel your findings as you shoved them in your bag. He nodded in approval. He seemed pleased, but his approval didn’t reach his face. He just stayed the same old, grumpy Joel. Go figure.

Your feet felt like pins and needles with every step you took. You had to rest for a few minutes or you were afraid you’d be left behind. There was an old checkout counter in the back of the room that was covered in dust and dirt. That would do. You needed to get your feet off the ground.

You walked towards the counter as the dirt cased your boots, quickly swiping at the counter, knocking dust to the ground. You hoisted yourself up on the counter, throwing your backpack next to you. God it felt so good to get off your feet and get the weight from the backpack off your back. Your muscles relaxed as tension left your body.

You grabbed the folded map from your bag and opened it up. The paper crinkled to life as you flattened out the creases of the map on your lap. You traced the blue lines carefully with your finger. You cringed and sighed at how far your destination still was. You didn’t know how far your legs would carry you.

“Are you sure Tommy’s in Salt Lake City?” you asked, still looking at the map.

“That’s the last place he was headed to with the fireflies.”

You looked up from the map at Joel, eyes wide. “Fireflies?!” Shock filled your voice.

“That’s right,” he snarled.

“I didn’t sign up to go looking for some fireflies. Honestly that’s the last group I want to find. I don’t trust them, Joel. I never did.”

“And you think I do?!” he yelled back, dropping his backpack to the floor.

“I don’t know. You’re the one going after them,” you huffed.

“I’m going after my brother, I could care less about the fireflies. There was a reason I didn’t join them,” he snapped.

“And what’s the reason?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he smirked.

Asshole. “Fine. Whatever. Don’t tell me. But how do you know Tommy’s still there?”

“I just know, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, what happens if he’s not there?”

“He’ll be there,” he answered, determination in his voice.

There was literally no point in arguing with this man. You thought carefully before choosing your next words. Fuck it, bring on the arguing. “And if he’s not, what’s your next move going to be? I didn’t sign up to go parading around the country to look for your brother,” you spat.

That made him angry. He stomped over to you, stopping about a foot away. “You signed up to get the hell out of Boston. And that’s exactly what I did for you. So maybe you should stop bitching and be more grateful you’re out. If you want to leave then leave,” he growled.

Your eyes went wide, anger coursing through you. “Maybe I should leave!” you yelled.

“Fine, then leave! Nobody’s stopping you,” he glowered.

You wanted to leave right then and there. You could grab your bag and walk right out that door. All you had to do was get up and go. You couldn’t do it though. It’s like your hands were glued to the counter, stuck. You couldn’t walk out that door. Where would you go? How well would you fare out there all alone? You wouldn’t.

“I’m not leaving,” you answered spitefully, still holding the map.

He took a few steps closer to you. You could hear his boots scuff against the floor, his footsteps heavy. His forehead was creased, eyebrows raised. He stopped right in front of you and pointed to the map, his finger landing on Salt Lake City. “Fine. Then this is where we’re headed, got it?”

“But why do we have to go this route, why can’t we take another way?” you huffed as you held the map tighter.

He grabbed the map away from you and threw it to the side of the counter, anger displaying in his features. “Because I said so, and I know the land better than you do. It’s the best route.”

“But,” you tried to argue, but he shut you down quickly and hushed you. Your lips pursed together in disappointment.

“Now I want to make one thing clear, and I’m only going to say this once. If you’re going to stay with me, you’re gonna have to follow what I say. Got that?” he asked in a harsh voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes in compliance.

The next thing you knew Joel was standing as close as he could get to you. His legs were pressed up against yours as your legs still hung from the counter. His hands grabbed the counter hard on each side of your hips, his sleeves lightly grazing the outside of your thighs. You couldn’t breathe, your body going numb.

“Repeat it,” he demanded. His eyes went dark and he was breathing heavy. His face was so close to yours, it was hard to concentrate. Your vision going in and out of blurriness. Your head felt dizzy as the air was thick around you.

“What you say goes,” you whispered to him.

He had a hard line on his face making him unreadable. He slightly leaned in closer to you. His eyes slowly going down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. His dark brown eyes hounded you, playing tricks in your brain. His right hand moved just enough that it slowly caressed the side of your thigh. Heat burned through your whole body in that moment, awakening something in you that had been dormant for a long time. Holy shit. He just stood there breathing heavily in and out, not moving away. A few seconds passed, and you were both on edge.

“Good,” he said sharply. He took one more glance down to your lips and then backed away, leaving you to melt in the heat of the moment. You just sat there unmoving. Afraid to move, afraid to chase the moment away. You let out a big breath, not realizing you were holding your breath. You let your body relax and come back down from the high you just experienced.

“Let’s get moving. I want to reach Kansas before the sun sets. I don’t want to be out on the road at night.” He grabbed his backpack and headed out the door.

You grabbed the map and threw it in your bag as you jumped off the counter, adrenaline still running through you. You quickly followed after him, not saying a word. What had just happened? Is this what it felt like to have intense hate for someone but also pine after them? You were treading into dangerous waters, but a part of you didn’t care. A part of you wished you’d drown in those waters and never return for air.

Joel’s POV

You raked your hands through your hair, trying to clear your mind from what just happened back there. What the fuck was that? You told yourself you were going to make this girl hate you, not pin her against a counter and almost kiss her. You brought your right hand into a fist, squeezing so tight you thought circulation was cutting off.

The air was so thick with tension back there. Heat was pouring off her body, leaving you wanting to run your hands up her thick thighs. Her big blue eyes could’ve devoured you with how dark they were smoldering. And her lips. Her lips looked so soft to the touch, you wanted to feel how they felt pressed against your lips… For God’s sake man, get ahold of yourself.

You shook your head, breaking the trance and coming back to reality. This was not a part of the plan and you damn well better find a way to not let it happen again.

You looked behind you and saw Aly dragging behind. “Can you move any faster?” you snapped her way.

“I’m going as fast as I can, chill out,” she said aggressively. “My legs can only carry me so fast with this huge weight on my back.”

You sighed and kept moving. The minutes ticked by and you kept hearing Aly huff behind you. It was late in the day now, sunset close by. “What is your problem?” you asked annoyed.

“I’m tired, Joel. Can we just please stop and rest for the night? We’ve gone far enough for the day. Please. I need to rest,” she pleaded.

“Soon,” you said sternly. You heard Aly huff again behind you, this time not turning around.

You walked a couple more miles until you came upon an old, small brick house. It looked pretty old and worn with its rusted roof and boarded up windows, but it’d do for one night. It was shelter to say the least.

“I’ll go scope out the inside real quick and make sure it’s clear of infected. Wait here.” She obeyed and stayed while you went inside and checked the area. You looked around the house as you checked for anything out of the ordinary.

A brown couch laid in the center of the room along with a small bed in the corner of the room. The windows were sealed up tight with wood, but the squeaky front door was left untouched. A small bathroom was displayed to the left of the tiny kitchen. You checked to see if the sink had running water. You turned the faucet and cold water came out. You took a large drink from the faucet and let the cool water run down your throat. Refreshing. You missed having a house to go home to.

You did a thorough check of the house and it seemed to be okay. You peeked your head out the door and shouted, “Coast is clear. C’mon.” She sighed a sigh of relief and made her way into the house.

She looked around, taking the new environment in. “Not bad,” she nodded at the house. “This will work for tonight.” She sat her bag down and went to sit on the edge of the bed. “I call dibs on the bed.”

You were planning on sleeping on it, but you didn’t want to bother trying to get it now. “Fine,” you snarled as you made your way to the couch and sat down, relaxing your back against the faded material.

“Fine,” she snapped back.

Ahh not this again. Here we go with the arguing. Wonderful.

Chapter 8

Series Masterlist

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel miller smut #joel x oc #enemies to lovers #slow burn

[giulliadella]

YES I SURVIVED PNEUMOCOCCAL INFECTION AND MADE A CELLS AT WORK COMIC ABOUT IT BECAUSE I CAN!

The original Cells at work and all its characters belong to Akane Shimizu!!!

I am too dumb to draw mangas, so read left to right:

To explain some shit:

1. I had azithromycin because I’m kinda allergic to penicillin and I researched how it works. Basically, lots of the antibiotic collects inside the granules of phagocytes (aka. macrophages and neutrophils) and then they de-granulate upon encountering bacteria and fuck them up. Degranulation in Cells at Work is represented with their weapons, hence they got cool new weapon!

2. Azithromycin is a bacteriostatic which means that it causes them to stop reproducing and blocks their protein production. “Molecular machinery” refers to bacterial ribosomes, DNA and other components necessary for protein production.

3. The pills I got were light blue, so I made the antibiotic into blue lightsabers because I can and it’s cool.

4. I had to ship 1146 and 3803. I just had, sorry not sorry.

5. My artstyle is shit for Cells at work, but I don’t care one bit. I’m going to disappear from Tumblr for a little while to work on my actual webcomic that looks decent in this shit artstyle.

6. Yes I was sick for two weeks, it was most likely acute Streptococcus pneumoniae sinus infection. And I also got conjunctivitis, because of course I did. I’m fine now and this comic served as a very good catharsis.

#cells at work #hataraku saibou #fan comic #fan art #comic #u1146 #ae3803 #wbc x rbc #white blood cell #u2626 #u4989 #u2048 #neutrophils #biology #pneumococcus

[drfirsnogayny]

Funguary 2024 Day 2

☁️ Week 1: Celestial 🪸 Clavaria zollingeri aka Lilac Coral Fungus

A fashion designer, her favorite colors are shades of blue and purple. He loves to relax by the sea.

Other arts:

🧢 Mycena Subcyanocephala

🪸 Lilac Coral Fungus 🍄

🦃 Turkey Tail

☁️ Cystolepiota

🏮 Filoboletus Manipularis

🪽 Angel Wings

🧽 Penicillin

👹 Satan's Bolete

🌳 Silver Leaf Fungus

🗡️ Destroying Angel

🪺 Birds Nest Fungus

🧟 Dead Man's Fingers

👒 Lilac Bonnet

🩸 Bleeding Tooth

🪮 Black Velvet

🍜 Enoki

🍘 Dotted Stem Bolete

🌧️ Inky Cap

☕ Black Trumpet

🧤 Amethyst Deceiver

🍚 Puffball

Organizer: @/feefal

#artist on tumblr #humanisation #funguary #funguary2024 #art challenge #funguary 2024

[jksprincess10]

Dressed for revenge 7. All I wanted

A/N: In this chapter, we meet two new characters that will help our friends in their journey. This is also and important chapter for Joel and Ellie.

CW: wounds, needles, talks of sexual orientation, a bit of sadness, fluff. 

Masterlist for this fic  

Please reblog to show your support!

November 2023, somewhere to the west

An almost lifeless body - beside the occasional sighs - is bundled onto a sled, tied to a horse.

A man fights the cold with red cheeks and a red nose. A cargo-girl is following with another horse. She got the warmest clothes; the man gave them to her.

They stop occasionally to give some water to the horses, to rest their legs. But they must move. Fast. Before it’s too late.

November 2023, in a corner of Ghost’s head

Was that what dying felt like? 

The feeling of liberation they had longed for – it wasn’t there.

They didn’t see the light.

 Behind their closed eyes, all they could see was darkness, the occasional smile of a nameless girl, the warm hug of a sibling, and the eyes of a monster. 

Their voice was taken from them. No one could hear them.

Suddenly, they were laying on the operation table again.

November 2023, in the west, early hours of the next day

It’s still dark when the three exhausted travelers get to the gated city. A man with a thick white beard is waiting, like he knew the storm was coming. His lover was resting – he was sick, stuck to a wheelchair for the end of his life.

Joel enters the code he memorized.

The two men look at each other like cowboys from a western, not like friends. But Bill’s face changes when he sees the human strapped to a sled.

“Got your message, but this isn’t what I expected.” Bill states grumpily, as he guides them to his house.

This place is weirdly empty. Houses that were left untouched for years, except one.

“It doesn’t please me to be here either.” Joel says.

Ellie is too sleepy to participate in a conversation, she just wants to lay down. Bill directs Ellie to an empty bedroom.

“Please wake me up if they need me.” She tells Joel before closing the door.

He nods, a silent promise. 

Joel lays Ghost’s body on their back, and takes off their top. It feels like a violation to him – he can only imagine the abuse they went through – but they were still in a deep coma. Still breathing, but mostly gone.

“What happened to her?” Bill whispers, so he didn’t wake his peacefully sleeping partner.

“Them.” Corrects Joel. “They can tell you when they wake up if they want to talk about it.” He responds coldly.

Bill opens up a case filled with medical necessities, and hands the needle and thread to Joel. The old man sterilizes their back.

“You have to close the wounds, so it doesn’t get worse. Then we’ll give them antibiotics.”

Joel carefully threads the needle and tries to put the skin back together in a few places to help. Meanwhile, Bill gets penicillin and injects Ghost. After this careful operation, Ghost’s limp body is transferred to a free room, with the help of Joel’s strong arms.

He checks on them one last time, before closing the door.

In the kitchen, he shares a strong liquor with Bill, who asks about Tess. Joel lies to cover his heartache. Bill doesn’t ask more questions.

Sarah.

Tommy.

Tess.

November 2023, Joel’s room

Finding the luxury of a bed and clean sheets was never something he expected. He could’ve stayed here a long time ago – with Tess, but he always fought against it. He doesn’t want an easy life, no, not when Sarah lost hers so early. He gets rid of his dirty clothes – notes that he should take a shower first. And when all that is done, his clean body rests on the bed, arms crossed, like he refuses to relax.

When Joel drifts to sleep, he dreams of a sweet face, their big, blue eyes, their thick lashes, and their lips. He also thinks about the tattoos covering the rest of their body. 

What would it feel like to protect their body with his?

November 2023, dining room

They look like a weird, reconstituted family, sitting over breakfast. Joel is silent – he has been since he saw that Ghost still didn’t wake up. Bill is silent too, except for the small, satisfied noises he makes when he eats tasty food.

Ellie and Frank, on the other hand, talk a lot. Ellie asks questions about the life “before”, and asks questions about how this whole place works. They have electricity, running warm water… It was a paradise built for two people.

Joel can’t seem to keep his thoughts away from Ghost. When he is tired of his restless body, he asks Bill to use his garage and some wood. He needs to do something with his hands.

Before he leaves, he shoots at Ellie: “You should shower, stinky kid.”

**

Ellie’s silhouette pops in Joel’s view as he’s working on a curved piece of wood.

“What are you doinnnng?” She asks as she sneaks up on him.

But he keeps his focus.

“Makin’ a new bow for Ghost.”

“You really like them, don’t you?”

Joel doesn’t respond to that. Ellie sits on a stool beside him and watches as his calloused hands sculpt delicately the wood. After a moment, he settles his work down and looks at his hands.

“If Ghost uses “they” pronouns… what does that make them?”

Ellie smiles discreetly at Joel’s question.

“I think they’re nonbinary. Just means they don’t fit in the definition of a woman or a man.”

“Were they born like that?”

“I mean, they were born female… They just… evolved to be who they are.” She says, looking for the right words.

“If a man likes them… does that make him… you know…”

“Gay? Why do you ask?” Ellie smirks.

“No reason.” He says sternly, cheeks lightly getting redder.

“Love doesn’t stop at gender, Joel…Think it might be the right time for me to tell you something.”

“Sure.”

She takes a deep breath.

“I’m a lesbian. I had a friend… before I met you. Riley… I really liked her.”

“Sorry for your loss, kid.”

He doesn’t need to say anything about her being a lesbian. He was old, but he wasn’t blind. He was just moved that she trusted him enough to tell him.

As the days went by, Ellie wasn’t just a cargo anymore. He could see in her his lost daughter and her, the father she never knew. She gets up, hesitates, then goes in for a hug. Joel is shocked for a few seconds, before he reciprocates. He lets go of her and finds his sternness back.

“Go ask Frank if he needs help with anythin’. Try not to be in anyone’s way.”

“Just tell me I’m bothering you.”

She rolls her eyes, then leaves him to his work.

Joel goes back to carving a new bow for Ghost to use.

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