Part of “Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff” Collection
Joel Miller and Celeste (plus size OFC)
This fic and my blog is for readers 18+ MDNI
Word Count: about 2k
Warnings: PTSD, mention of death, mention of murder, fire use (a type of weapon), very heavy on the angst, one character has a mental breakdown, very bad jokes
Summary: The memories of how she came to Jackson haunt Celeste. Joel takes her out of the rain and enters her home.
Notes: Not sure why I’m writing so much angst as of late. I came home earlier this week and wrote this. 👀 I really meant for this to be fluff and for a challenge I was working on. My bad. 🫣 Celeste’s memories are in italics and her speech is in pink.
There's a little fluff at the end. 🥹
“I don’t see why I would listen to you, that last call was bad, and you know it.”
“It was good. You’re the dumbass who went too far out and drew two here. We killed them but now there’s less ammo and we need to figure out how to get rid of the bodies. All for some…never mind.”
“Say it. I know you want to.”
“You doomed us for tail you bastard. If any of the people with us turn-“
“She part of the group now and will pull her weight. We’ll be fine. You’re paranoid as always.”
“I’ve lived this long by being so. You may want to start.”
Exposed feet make their way slowly along the dirt street if that’s what one would call it. “Shaa…Shaa…lala….shaa…” Rocking side to side, the ground sloshes underneath her feet. She stumbles stepping into a deep puddle but laughs as she sees it. Sees all of them.
“I know deep down you’re happy aren’t you? You get to be fucking right again. You always have to be right dammit…”