Connoisseur of Well-written Fan Fiction

My claim to fame is that I don't use Y/N. Hey, that rhymes! MASTERLIST AO3

[whiskeybeforesunset]

They want you dead. Don’t let them win.

[white-weasel]

“I’m not very good at being a kid, I feel like”

[whiskeybeforesunset]

As much as I loved Neverafter, it never felt as scary to me as some of the scenes in the nightmare forest got. I can’t wait to be terrified for 2 hours straight next week.

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Mr. and Mrs. Smith is just straight people Killing Eve

[mydairpercabeth]

just saw the most heartbreaking annabeth take from ep 3

[kat-crow]

who needs therapy when you have them,right guys?right?

[bewbin]

i think more people would be getting laid if it wasn't a logistical nightmare

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

adaine abernant core

[random-jot]

Being a fan of Dimension 20 comes with a deep insatiable envy that it is not also my job to play d&d with my friends all the time

[leave-her-a-tome]

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Not me giving myself anxiety writing this fic. Nothing bad happens folks I promise

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Finally got part 5 out, hope you guys enjoy!

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Ghost Part 5 | Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Synopsis: Reader, Joel, and Ellie make it to the University. They explore and discuss what to do next in their journey. 

Warnings: None? I guess implied animal testing. 

Author’s Note: Oh boy, it’s been long enough since the last time I’ve written for Thesaurus to change the design of its website! Hope you all enjoy this one. The transition into sickness isn’t very subtle, but hey, work with me a little bit. 

Previous Chapter

___

Through the clouds of sleep you feel a warm hand on your shoulder gently shaking you. You open your eyes to see Joel’s form. His features are softened by the light of the fire, the physical reminders of the stress he has been under the last 20 odd years are less visible in the darkness. An unintentional lopsided smile makes its way across your face. 

Joel’s hand moves further down your arm, finding purchase near your elbow. 

“‘S your turn.” He says quietly, making no attempt to remove his hand despite it accomplishing its goal of waking you. His words bring you further into consciousness. 

You nod slowly and squeeze your eyes together, banishing the remainder of sleep. You stand up and stretch, regretting the action immediately as the warmth of both Joel’s hand and your sleeping bag are stolen from you. 

“Fuck.” You shutter, word drawn out by the contractions of your body adjusting to the cold. Your hands scramble across the ground for your jacket. However, the material chilled by the night air provides little comfort. Joel stands idly watching your floundering attempt to warm up. 

“Here.” He says, setting the rifle down before moving to take off his own jacket. 

“Oh Joel, you don’t have to-” He motions for you to stop speaking with a wave of his hand, the other being used to offer up the jacket. You hesitate, but ultimately take him up on the offer for additional protection from the weather. 

“I’m surprised you’re actually letting someone else take a shift of watch.” You say quietly as you put the jacket on.

“Yeah, well.” He starts. “I figured you’d give me shit ‘bout it in the morning if I didn’t.” You smile at his words.

“Right you are, cowboy.” You say, moving to pick up the rifle. “Get some rest.” You touch your hand to his arm as you pass as a final good night. 

While you don’t see it as you are facing the opposite direction, Joel remains standing for a few moments longer than necessary. Head tilted towards you as he watches you walk away. His hand flexes for a moment, signaling his internal debate. He shakes his head, turning away from you as he does so before making his way to his own sleeping bag to get some much needed rest. 

As you take your position to watch, the heat from Joel's jacket settles into you, although something else entirely warms your cheeks. 

…

Watch goes by about as slowly as it always does. Although you admittedly spent more of it glancing at Joel than necessary, which sped things up a bit. Looking to the East you see the sun peeking out as daylight begins to seep into the sky. You sling the gun over your shoulder and begin to make some “coffee” for you and Joel. 

Your two traveling companions woke up with the sun. Joel sleepily shuffled his way over to you, or more accurately over to the coffee. Part of his hair sticks up in an oddly charming way, making you wish you had a camera. 

He yawns, arms stretching above his head. The movement reveals a portion of his tanned midriff, you take a deep sip of your beverage as you once again find yourself wishing for access to a camera.

Ellie sits upright, but stays in her bag for the time being, determined to not be anywhere near “that burnt shit.”

The warmth provided by the sun allows you to shed a few layers. You return Joel’s jacket to him with a quiet thank you. His hand lingers on your own in a way that does not go unnoticed by Ellie. 

The girl, having little else to be entertained by, had noticed a shift in the interactions between the two of you. Just little things, stuff she had originally assumed was due to lingering awkwardness from Jackson but… now as she witnesses the look you and Joel share she’s not so sure. 

…

The three of you get moving, and soon enough Ellie is pestering you and Joel about the “before times” yet again. 

“Okay, so- if you mess up your fourth down, then you give the ball to the other team… which is called a turn over?” Ellie repeats the information she had been given as though it’s a test.

“Yep.” Joel confirms. 

“But, if you make it to ten years, then you’re back to first down.”

“Uh huh.” Joel says, clearly enjoying this retelling of a once-favorite pastime. 

You take a deep breath to sigh, not being one for sports at any time in your life. On the exhale though, you cough, drawing attention from your companions. 

“You alright?” Joel asks.

“Yeah, fine.” You say a bit hoarsely after clearing your throat. “Just the dust.” He nods, before continuing his football lesson with Ellie and moving on to explain the Super Bowl.

“You know-” You interrupt, “the best part of the Super Bowl was the snacks. Oh! And the commercials.”

“Aren’t those like… advertisements though?” Ellie asks. 

“Yeah, but they were always really funny. Talking dogs, that sort of thing.”

“Sooo you enjoyed people trying to sell you things?” Ellie askes.

“Huh,” you pause. “Yeah, I guess it does sound kind of weird when you say it like that.”

…

“You went to college right?” Ellie directs her question towards you as the three of you pass the large University of Eastern Colorado sign.

“That I did.” You respond. 

“What was it like?” She asks. 

“Well,” you start, glad to finally have something to share that she’s interested in. “It’s a lot of reading, a lot of studying…” Ellie’s deminer diminishes slightly at the start of your description. “And… a lot of parties.” Your attempts to keep her interest seem to have been successful. 

“Really?” Joel and Ellie say simultaneously. “You went to ‘a lot of parties.’” Joel finishes incredulously. 

“Sure did.” You say, shooting him a glare. It’s not entirely a lie, a lot is a… relative term. Technically to Ellie, who had never been to a college party, three is a lot. “Friday night, would head down to frat row and not come back ‘till morning.” 

“What’s frat row?” Ellie asks.

“It’s the street where all the fraternities on campus were located.”

“And… what's a fraternity?” 

“Oh, well. It’s sort of like a club that a bunch of guys join because they think it looks cool. It was also good for networking -like getting a job once you graduated- but mostly people joined for the parties.” You say, looking around to see if you could spot any decrepit fraternity signage. 

“Only guys got to have party clubs? That’s stupid.” Ellie said, pouting slightly.

“Well, no. There were also sororities, those were like fraternities for girls.” 

“Oh! I want to be in a sorority.” Ellie says enthusiastically. The comment causes both you and Joel to burst out laughing. “What?”

“Alright party-animals, focus up. We’re looking for-” Joel starts before you cut him off. 

“Speaking of party animals.” You point across the quad to a group of monkeys running through grass. 

“Woah! Monkeys!” Ellie exclaims.

“Someone must have let them out of the lab when things went south.” Joel comments. 

The monkeys quickly scamper across the field and into some alleyway, eager to avoid the unfamiliar intruders.

…

“What about you Joel, did you ever go to college?” Ellie says after a lull in conversation.

“No, you don’t need that for contracting.” He responds. 

“Did you always want to be a contractor?” She asks.

“Well,” he pauses. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a singer.”

“Shut up.” Ellie says as the two of you start laughing. 

“Why is that funny?” You quickly attempt to straighten your face out as Joel looks back and asks. 

“You gotta sing something now.” Ellie says.

“No.” Joel responds playfully.

“Come on… we’re not gonna laugh.” You add to the girl’s pestering. 

“You’re already laughing.” He states plainly.

“Okay… true.” Ellie admits in defeat. 

…

The halls of the university buildings exude a emptiness you’ve never quite gotten used to. Even after all these years, seeing places once full of life be so, well, dead just feels off. 

Of course, not everything here is dead. Vines climb along the interior walls, stretching towards broken skylights. Once well-manicured accent trees have roots that spill out of their pots and into the cracked tile below. 

Thankfully, the campus was largely free of infected. Less thankfully, it also appeared to be free of any Fireflies. Your search for signs of life had remained largely unfruitful until…

A cacophony of metal clangs rang out as Joel pushed the laboratory door forward. A troop of monkeys quickly exits out of the shattered windows. Ellie playfully avoids the metal pans scattered about as you begin to investigate. 

You find yourself standing in front of a wall filled with opened metal cages. Undoubtedly the ones which once contained the furry inhabitants of the university. As you stare at the rows, you imagine the person who freed them. Was it someone who was researching them? Who saw them daily and chose to risk their life to free them? The campus would have been heavily populated, it must have been a matter of hours before it was taken over by infected, if not less. Or maybe it was just some student who didn’t realize how serious the situation was, who thought it would be funny to add to the chaos. 

“Shit,” Joel’s words drew you from your thoughts. 

“What?” You reply as you begin walking over to see what he’s looking at. He hands you a piece of paper, taking the time you read it to inspect a set of dog tags on the table. 

“Shit.” You repeat.

“Yep.” He agrees.

“What? What is it?” Ellie asks, coming away from the window.

“Fireflies aren’t here, kid.” Joel says.

“Well where are they?” Ellie says, distressed.

“Fucking Utah.” You reply flatly.

She rolls her eyes, although you’re not sure if she actually knows where Utah is. 

“What’s the plan then?” You look to Joel.

“I guess we're going to Utah.” He says as he starts to make his way back out of the lab. 

Ellie’s groan of frustration is accented by your growing headache. You zip up your jacket, unsure if the air has gotten cooler or if the exhaustion of the day has just caught up to you. 

Although there’s honestly a part of you that’s glad you didn’t find anything. It’s not entirely clear what lies at the end of this journey. 

“So… you went to a lot of parties, huh?” Joel comments quietly to you as you avoid rubble. 

“Shut it,” Your laugh following the comment turns into a cascade of coughs.

“Y’alright?” Joel asks, placing a hand on your back. 

“Yeah, of course. Just y’know, the dust again.” He nods slowly, more hesitant to accept that answer the second time around. 

…

You return to the two horses, both safe and sound. Ellie’s already petting “her” horse's snout. 

You place your foot in the stirrup, arm readied on the horse's back to help pull yourself up.

“You sure you’re alright?” Joel asks, noticing your hesitation. 

“I’m fine,” you sigh as you attempt to step onto the horse. “Just a bit…” lightheaded, lightheaded was the word you were going for, although Joel seemed to get the idea. As you went up all the seemed to rush to your head, or was it away from? Whichever direction caused your hands to feel fuzzy and vision to blacken. 

Tag list: if you would like to be added, let me know!

Sarahhxx03

Blurredx18

groggygrogu

Yyiikes

liliumsabyss

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Hey folks tiny update I did in fact get a job so I don’t have quite as much free time now. I’m still going to try and write in my free time but yeah, this blog isn’t going to be updated nearly as frequently :p

[so-many-ocs]

“how’s the writing going?” i’m glad you asked! my room has never been cleaner and i’ve decided to take up baking

[houndsoforion]

Please for the love of god indicate the gender of the reader correctly. If I see another AFAB reader fic that ends up throwing a baby girl my way I’m going to flip. AFAB is not a gender it means assigned female at birth. I am AFAB but I’m not female. I keep seeing posts like this and it’s aggravating and makes AFAB trans guys like myself get our hopes up then super dysphoric when we see it.

[groggygrady]

as someone who would rather eat my own teeth than share my thoughts with my family, it is perplexing when they seem to share every single one of theirs with me

[zoloft3]

i need more groggy gripes

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Agreed

[groggygrady]

Request :3

You got sick and joel nurses you back to health (really fluffy ofc)

hiii!! tysm for the request!! <33

GN reader, sicfic, fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you wake up, something feels off. Not immediately sure what that is, you roll over expecting to bump into the human radiator that is Joel Miller. Instead, the other side of the mattress is cold, the curtains are already open and there’s a steaming mug on the bedside table.

You grunt unintelligibly and decide it must be at least late morning, looking out the window.

Then you feel how horribly stuffy your head is, a sharp pain increasing between your eyes as the sunlight hits you. An unexpected side effect of living through an apocalypse is how long it takes you to notice something’s wrong with you, so used to brushing off aches and pains to focus on more important matters.

Now settled down in Jackson, it’s a habit you can’t seem to shake.

Reaching the conclusion you’re most definitely sick, you crawl out of bed and stumble across to the bathroom. Then, down the stairs to check if the other two occupants of the house are anywhere to be seen.

Joel is, which you’re not quite sure how you feel about. On one hand, you’re relieved to not be alone, your inner child desperately in need of some comfort while so vulnerable. On the other, you hate the idea of looking so weak in front of him.

He’s doing something on the hob when you shuffle into the kitchen.

“El- oh! Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed?” He scolds, a furrow between his brow.

“Uhh,” you realise you must look a pitiful sight, pyjamas crumpled and somewhat clinging to your clammy skin, hands locked together to stop yourself shivering.

“Come on now, let’s get you back upstairs,” he says, immediately at your side. “You’ll catch your death.”

You let him lead you back up the stairs and into his room, leaning into him heavily. Sitting down on the bed, you watch him as he busies himself gathering … you’re not sure what. Your mind must drift because the next thing you know, Joel’s tapping your shoulder softly to get your attention.

“Lie down now, gimme a sec.”

The pain in your head spikes and you can barely process a word being said so you stay sitting, slumped over as your body feels heavier and heavier. Joel comes back and gently pushes you into lying down, pulling the covers back up. The pile of blankets and quilts in his arms get set down one by one, laid over you carefully as anything.

“Better?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Good.”

You can feel sleep drifting back in but you’re still there to feel him drop a kiss on your forehead. And when he heads for the door, something in your brain jerks you awake quickly.

“Joel?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Can- can you stay?”

He doesn’t answer, not verbally at least. But his socked feet step quickly back over to you, wanting to do whatever he can to be useful. He climbs into the bed, leaving space between him and you. You close it immediately, ducking under his chin so you can lie just above his heart beat. His warmth seeps into you instantly and you shudder at the temperature change, nuzzling closer.

“Get some more sleep,” he says into your hair, laying an arm over your waist, his hand splayed out on your back. “I’ll be here.”

Coming in and out of consciousness, either shivering or overheated, you’re soothed back to sleep every time by the steady weight of Joel’s arm around your torso. Grounded by his familiar smell, chicory coffee, Jackson produced soap and hay from all his time spent with Ellie in the stables.

Your dreams take strange shapes in your feverish state, unsettling in their surrealness. Waking from a particularly bad one, you find yourself already sitting up, held in Joel’s lap. His arms are keeping you pressed to his chest, fully encompassing you as he murmurs things you can’t quite hear yet. The wisps of the dream are already floating away with every circle traced into your back.

“You’re okay, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you agree shakily. “You’re here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

requests open <3