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Right Enough for Me
CW: no outbreak, murder, domestic violence, descriptions of violence (Joel’s the good guy, I promise)
This fic is based off the song Wait in the Truck by HARDY and Lainey Wilson
Joel Miller liked to believe that he was a good man, that he tried his damndest to do the right thing, but as he sat in his truck parked by the bank of the Colorado looking down at the still-warm pistol in his trembling hands he’d wondered if he’d done wrong. In the eyes of the law he had, sure, but morally, truly, was it wrong?
He sighs as he climbs out of his truck and walks into the river until it lapped just below the tops of his work boots. It was eight a.m. on a Tuesday. There were no sunbathers, nobody playing in the water, nobody to see him wind his arm back and hurl the gun into the river. Hopefully the lifeblood of Texas would take his sins far east and spill them into the Gulf.
As Joel made his way to his jobsite he couldn’t seem to keep his mind from running. Part of him wanted to clam up and try to forget what he’d done, but another part wanted to clear his conscience. If he went to a confessional they weren’t allowed to go to the cops, but the penance they’d give wouldn’t absolve him. He could probably confide in Tommy, he was sure to understand, but what if he didn’t? Instead he just sighs and wipes the nervous sweat from his brow and goes to decide today's agenda. Despite it all, despite the horrible, horrible events of the morning, he was still the first one to work with ten fresh boxes of Carpenter’s nails and the crisp receipt to go with them. Maybe things would be okay.
One Month Earlier
A knock at the door raises Joel from the breakfast table, wordlessly ruffling Sarah’s hair as he passes on his way to the door. He swings the door wide and lets a dopey smile spread across his face when he sees you with your usual beer can sized rollers still in your hair. He takes notice of the split in your perfectly lined lips.
You weren’t prideful, but he knew you’d be humiliated if he mentioned it. He’d been there before, after all.
“Mornin’ Darlin’,” he greets, waving for you to come in. “We’ve still got plenty if you’re hungry,” he offers, gesturing to the dining room table where Sarah was strategically drizzling syrup onto a sausage link.
“Nah, I’m alright. Already ate with JP. I’ll take some coffee if you’ve got it though”
“Alright then.”
You give him a smile and join Sarah at the table while Joel fixes your coffee just how you liked it, sliding it in front of you before disappearing upstairs.
“Y/n,” Sarah questions, looking up from her plate.
“Yeah kiddo?”
“How’d you meet my dad again?”
“I grew up down the street, but we met ‘cause of you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You was real little when I started watching you, ‘bout three I think. Your dad needed someone to watch you and I’ve been your babysitter ever since.”
“How old were you?”
“Nineteen.”
She grins in response. “Seven years. That’s a long time. Why don’t you marry my dad, he really likes you, plus you’re basically my mom already.”
You cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to not spew coffee all over the naive girl in front of you.
“Honey, you know I can’t. I’m married to JP. He’s a good man.”
Her eyes narrow. “If he’s so great how come I’ve never met ‘em”
“He don’t like rugrats. You done eating?”
“Oh I see how it is, and yes. Can I go watch TV?”
“Go brush your teeth and then we’ll talk.”
“Okay.”
You can’t help but smile as Sarah slides out of her seat and runs upstairs. It was almost seven and you knew she didn’t want to miss the newest episode of Inuyasha. You get up and scrape what's left of her plate into the trash and put it into the dishwasher, smiling to yourself when you hear Joel jogging down the steps in his heavy boots.
“Alright Darlin’, I’m outta here,” he calls, punctuated by the jingling of his keys as he pulls them from their designated hook. “You got her?”
“Always do Joel,” you respond, giving him a lazy grin as you head into the bathroom to finish your hair.
Sarah knocks on the door and you let her in, telling her she can watch TV as long as it isn’t too loud and she already has her backpack together. She thanks you and scampers off, leaving the door open behind her, which was probably for the better since your hairspray was starting to choke you.
After you get Sarah off to school you head to work for another exciting day of taking phone calls and sharpening pencils, then using said pencils to record notes of said phone calls and then do it all over again the next time the phone rang.
Dale had come in again, bug-eyed and skittish as usual, trying his damndest to chat you up despite your obvious disinterest, pressing about how things were with you and JP, if he’d want to have beers with him after work sometime, how your tomatoes were, and on and on. Finally you’d gotten him to get to what he was there for, which was getting his truck's registration update put on file, and you’d promptly shooed him out after everything was squared away.
You’d finally gotten off and picked Sarah up from school, cracking open one of Joel’s High Lifes and propping your bare feet up on the coffee table to watch General Hospital while Sarah worked on her homework. Time crawled on and Sarah finished up and went outside to play on her tire swing before coming in and laying on the floor beside you with her copy of Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret, that you had gotten her last month. You figured you'd stop and get her Starring: Sally J Freedman as Herself next. It was always your favorite.
Around five fifteen you had called JP and let him know that you were going to be late getting home since there was no sign of Joel and he still hadn’t called. He’d gotten upset, so you just told him you loved him real sweetly and hung up and started dinner for Sarah.
Finally Joel got home around six and thanked you for staying late.
When you’d gotten home JP was furious, backing you into a corner and shouting into your face, calling you every name under the sun for God knows how long before he got bored and went back to the couch, demanding dinner and a beer.
JP had been a decent man for so long, you dated throughout highschool, parted ways, reconnected and got married at twenty-four. Things had been falling apart the last couple months and it had you looking for an out, hell you had the divorce papers shoved in your trunk under the spare tire, you were just too scared to tell him what you wanted, scared he wouldn’t let you leave, on the sunny side of a black bag at least. He got in your face like that for some reason or another at least three nights a week, and he'd busted your lip the night before over dinner being late. You knew it was too late to fix whatever you two used to have.
Things cooled off after that for about a week, then he came home drunker than a skunk and when you’d gone to get the mail the next morning you’d noticed a giant dent in his back bumper and that the front of his truck was barely an inch from the side of the trailer. You’d quietly made breakfast and went and woke JP when it was ready. He’d staggered his way into the kitchen and flopped into one of the chairs at the table.
“JP did you back into something last night?”
“What does it matter, woman?”
“You ain’t supposed to drive like that, you could’a hurt somebody, you could’a gotten hurt.”
“Last I checked this was a free country.”
“Last I checked, it's illegal to drive drunk.”
“Its only two miles back from Wyld’s”
“You almost drove through the damn house, JP.”
He’d risen sharply from his chair and come around the table, following you as you’d backed away from him. “C’mere, don’t act all scared now,” he growled, catching you by the arm and spinning you to face him and landing a heavy slap across your cheek. His breath still reeked of booze, and the look in his eyes told you that he was still extremely drunk, and that was probably what was keeping him from winding back on you. He was almost never drunk when he’d hit you.
“Teach you to fucking get smart with me again, bitch.”
It had only gotten worse from there, angry red marks became black eyes and hand-shaped bruises around your elbow that you’d so masterfully covered with more makeup than a Rodeo Queen, blotting your eyes when they’d water, and wearing those big sunglasses of yours as much as possible.
Joel had invited you and JP to a cookout at his place later that week and you’d both gone. JP played nice with the Millers and their friends until Tommy jokingly referred to you as ‘Sara’s new mama’ and then he’d dragged you inside, growling accusations under his breath at you while you tried your damndest to tell him that Tommy was just poking fun because you’re always looking after her. You open your mouth to tell him he didn’t mean nothing by it, but before you can speak he’s grabbed you by a fistfull of Texas-sized curls and you don’t have time to put your hands out before your face collides with the cold tile of the kitchen counter.
JP turns you loose and you stagger back a couple of steps, resting against the fridge to steady yourself as your vision swims, tinnitus setting in louder than it's ever been, and you’re vaguely aware of the warm ooze crawling down your top lip.
Finally your vision steadies some and you see that JP is gone. You wipe your nose on the back of your hand and feel around for fractures while you look around slowly, trying to remember where you are when you see Joel standing at the foot of the stairs
“How long’s he been doin’ that to you,” Joel questions, taking your clean hand and leading you into the bathroom, easing you to sit on the lid of the toilet and closing the door.
“It keeps bleeding,” you murmur, complying when Joel puts a wad of toilet paper in your hand and brings it to your nose, gently urging you to look down.
“You need to go to the hospital,” he informs you, steadying your chin and inspecting your eyes.
“I’m okay.”
“He slammed your face into the counter.”
“You seen that?”
“I heard it. You still bleeding?”
“No.”
“I’m gonna go get you some ice, just try to stay awake.”
“‘M’kay.”
He returns with a rag full of ice and gently presses it to your forehead in a couple places before focusing on your nose.
“I love you Joel,” you slur, finally giving into your heavy eyelids.
“No. No, hey. Look at me.” He taps at your cheek, sighing with relief when your eyes weakly flutter open again.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I’m calling nine-one-one,” he mutters, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.
Your hand flies out and grasps his wrist as harshly as you can manage, making your head throb. “No, mhmh, can’t. He’ll kill me if he knows anyone knows.”
“Then we’ll just tell everyone you slipped and hit your face on this sink here, how’s that?”
“I…don’t know.”
“Listen I can keep him away from you, but you’re goin’ to the hospital and that’s that.”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
You don’t remember much of what happened after that, but JP never found out that Joel knew, and Joel was pissed when you’d left the hospital and had him take you back to that trailer instead of letting him take you down to your parents in San Antonio like he wanted to.
“Honey, please let me take you to your mama.”
“Joel…”
“He didn’t even bother to come get you.”
“I gotta be strategic about this. He’s crazy. He’s got boys in Galveston that make it snow all over the state with guns you can’t buy.”
“Fuck, Jesus, fuck. Girl, what have you gotten yourself into?”
“I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“I’ll think about it for you.”
Current Day
JP hadn’t put his hands on you in the week you’d been out of the hospital, which was likely because the bill you’d been sent home with was more than hefty. Life was so close to back to normal, sending him off to work and looking after Sarah, who believed the sink story that Joel had made up for you.
Joel.
You’d finally said it that day, what you’d been feeling all those years but too scared to say, words that could have saved you all this trouble if you’d just said them sooner, sitting there in his bathroom thinking every word out of your mouth would be your last, you’d told him. You hoped he felt the same, but maybe he just thought it was delirium.
You’d decided to go home for lunch today since you’d forgotten to pack one and your deli meat was about to expire. When you pull into your driveway you’re surprised to see JP’s truck sitting there in the driveway. A dread bubbles up in your belly, but you steel yourself and climb the stairs to your door.
It’s unlocked. Weird.
You go inside and go straight to the fridge, pulling the meat, cheese and mayonnaise out, spinning around and closing it with your hip. As you look up your hands jerk, leaving everything you were holding to the mercy of gravity as you let out a scream. Your right hand reaches out, finding the wall to steady yourself, tapping around, seeking the phone before finding it and pulling it from the hook and calling the cops.
You explain the situation to the operator as best you can, periodically looking over your shoulder to make sure that you’re not just seeing things, but every time you look, JP’s still laying in the bedroom floor, his eyes wide and glassed over, staring directly at you, blood seeping into the creme colored carpet and flowing with the bow of the floor onto the dark linoleum of the hallway.
Finally the cops show up and start their investigation while one officer pulls you outside for questioning. After the investigators have all they need from the body, the coroner shows up and carts JP off.
They told you you couldn’t be there while they continued so you went back to work. You told your boss why you were late getting back and he told you to take the rest of the day, but you couldn’t go home, so you went to Joel’s.
You spend the rest of the time before you have to go get Sarah thinking about a lot of things. Finally your mind settles and you realize that no matter what, he can’t hurt you again and that’s good enough for you.
When Joel gets home you already have dinner made and Sarah’s finishing up setting the table. You can tell by the look of him that there’s some weight on his shoulders, but you can’t place why. You’d surely know before the end of the day. Joel was never one to keep things from you.
He thanks you and asks if you’re staying. You nod and take a seat, gesturing for him and Sarah to fix their plates first. After your own plate is settled, you reach out your hands.
“I think we should pray.”
Joel gives you a funny look but still takes your hand and bows his head. You can feel him knock his foot into Sarah’s and she takes your hand too.
You pray silently and signal your finish with an audible “Amen,” which the Miller’s echo.
“What’s got you feelin’ Grace again, Darlin’,” Joel questions, raising another forkful of meatloaf to his mouth as he speaks.
“Mysterious favors, I reckon.”
He shrugs and tries to give you a smile despite his concerned expression.
“Fair enough.”
After dinner is put away and Sarah’s been tucked in by the both of you, it’s just you and Joel downstairs, sitting at the dining room table in awkward silence, looking up at each other when you can’t stand the silence anymore.
“Joel,” you question, meeting his eyes with your own. They’re darker than usual and the lines around his eyes seem much deeper than they did the day before.
“Yes, Darlin’?”
“JP’s dead. I went home for lunch and…found him.”
“I’m sorry that you saw that. That’s God-awful.”
Something you’ve never felt bubbles up inside you, heavy, sore and unknown, not fear, not anger, but something dangerously toeing the line between them and something positive. There was nothing God-awful about finding someone who had died naturally, sad maybe, but not horrible. God-awful was ruined carpet and a gray splatter across the side of the dresser. Joel knew what you had seen.
It was always Joel, no matter what problem you had, he would take care of it.
“Joel?”
“Yes?”
You drop your voice to a whisper, scared that someone will hear, despite being in his home, terrified that he’d lose it all over you. “Did you do it?”
He drops his gaze from yours. “Did I do the right thing?”
“It’d been me if you didn’t.”
“That’s right enough for me.”
Tears well up in your eyes as they finally meet his gaze again. “I’ll protect you too.”
His eyes fall shut and he sighs, dropping his shoulders.
“No matter what I know you got Sarah.”
“I won’t have to. What’d you do with it? Was it yours?”
“It’s on its way to the Gulf, and no, dug it up on a site last year. Never did know why I kept it. Reckon I’m glad I did though.”
You take his rough hand in yours and squeeze, giving him a soft smile as you get up from the table. He follows without hesitation.
“Joel, I gotta get going.”
“You ain’t scared of me, are you,” he questions, his expression pained, his eyes silently pleading with you.
“I’d never be scared of you, no matter what you do. That day in the bathroom, that wasn’t the concussion talking. I meant what I said.”
Joel’s breath catches and his hand tightens around yours, lifting your arm even with your shoulder. Your fingers stiffen instinctively, and then relax as he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist and then lets go.
You start making your way to the door and like always, he follows, opening the door for you and leaning on it. His face lacks its usual crooked smile, it’s somber as you step out onto the porch and turn to face him.
“Thank you, Joel.”
“Darlin’?”
“Yes, Joel?”
“Will you pray for me?”
“I’d do anything you asked me to.”
“Be safe gettin’ home, okay?”
“Always do” you call, making your way down the walkway to your car, noticing how Joel watches from the door as you duck in, only closing the door when you start backing out of the driveway.
Requesting a Joel miller x reader where reader is one of those people that say sorry too much (me)
Joel with an apologetic partner
gimme more omg!! i love writing requests. also first joel hc so that’s fun (it’s a short one because i wasn’t too sure how to write it)
you and joel had been together for a while when he picked up on your habit for apologising for everything
he thought it was sweet at the beginning but quickly got upset by the amount you said it, wanting to know nothing more than who made you feel like you had to apologise for everything
accidentally bumping into someone. sorry. not being to reach something and having joel grab it for you. sorry. placing a mug of coffee a tad bit too far away from joel. sorry.
he stopped every single movement at that last one, turning towards you as he sat up straight.
“you don’t have to apologise for everything darling”
he helped you get out of your habit, sending you a playful glare whenever he heard that word escape your lips whenever it wasn’t needed
guys if you want to get your heart ripped open then put back together again multiple times go read apocalypse by @ whoreforjamescook on wattpad. it’s an ellie williams x oc ff (it’s by me)
![Apocalypse [Ellie Williams]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4f4fc1f65a200a1bfd724e6c04911222/4646807eaddb5450-17/s400x600/c24172a20f7d864944238a83b623ea58bcd336cf.jpg)
Queen is back (me). And has watched tlou S2e2 finally, right after a quick recap of season 1 cuz I forget (a lot).
Crying as if I didn’t play the game pffffsshhh yeaaaaaa I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine I’m alright I’m alright IM OK IM NOT OK
You cannot hurt this man, please stop it.
Sub!abby? maybe something like making her squirt?🫢
As requested 🤭 Sub Abby (Making her squirt)
Abby’s breath hitches as her eyes lock onto her girlfriend across the room. The noise around her fades into a dull hum. Every movement her girlfriend makes pulls Abby in—soft, fluid, effortless. Her lips curve into a smile, and it’s all Abby can do not to groan aloud.
“God, I want to taste that smile. I want to feel her lips under mine.” Abby pleas in her head.
The tension in her body coils tighter with every second. The soldier in her is still—trained to wait, to assess, to hold back. But all she can do now is stand there, barely able to contain herself. Her fingers, restless and twitching at her sides, ache to reach out, to touch her, to pull her close and make this maddening yearning stop. Just one step. Just one movement toward her...
But Abby’s mind doesn’t want to listen. They couldn’t do this here, all their friends were around and if she only knew how fucking desperate Abby was- No. She decided again. Not here. Not now.
She watches the way her girlfriend shifts, the subtle way her body moves with the grace of someone who doesn’t even know how badly she’s driving Abby wild. The way her hips sway when she talks to someone else. The way her throat moves when she laughs. Abby’s pulse quickens, a heat pooling low in her stomach, and the longer she stands there, the tighter the coil of desire becomes, winding through her chest.
“Fuck, I need her.” Argues her more impulsive thoughts.
Her thoughts start to blur together, raw, desperate flashes of the way her fingers would feel sliding over her girlfriend’s skin, the way she’d kiss her neck, her jawline, the curve of her back, slowly, desperately—every inch, memorising it, marking it as her own.
“She feels so good against me. Her body pressed to mine… I can already taste her. I can already hear her breath catch when I touch her. Jesus. What is wrong with me?” Abby wondered.
Abby’s body is screaming for release, and every second spent not crossing that room feels like torture. Her hands ball into fists, nails digging into her palm, grounding herself, but it’s not enough to keep the ache from spreading. Her breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps, the need for her girlfriend starting to overwhelm the edges of her control.
The thought of pulling her into a corner, of locking lips, of feeling the soft heat of her body beneath Abby’s own is consuming. Her legs feel weak, the tension in her core unbearable, but she stays still, even as her body betrays her.
“Do you need something?” Questions the other female soldier, Abby’s burning gaze on her body finally becoming too intense to go unnoticed.
“Yes I…” She lowers her head to reach her girlfriends height, whispering into her ear. “I need you. Please can we…” Surprise overtakes the smaller woman for a moment, but she flashes a confident smile and grabs her hand, leading her into an empty tent on the grounds. She let’s go of her, looking Abby up and down, clearly amused.
“You’re looking at me like how our dogs look before they’re fed in the morning. Want to talk about that?” Abby shakes her head.
“Fuck, the last thing I want to do is talk.” She exclaims, grabbing her softly by the back of the neck and bringing her into a deep, passionate kiss, tongue exploring every inch of the inner walls of her cheek. To Abby’s surprise and devastation, the woman steps back, her eyes sparkly and mischievous.
“What are you-“
“Get on your knees.” She commands in a way that causes blood to flow through Abby’s body to a point she’s sure the other woman can hear it.
“This is not how it goes.” Abby tries to say, despite the woman's tone already driving her crazy in all the right ways. “I tell you what to do, you don’t-“
“You must want me real bad.” She interrupts, taking a step closer.
“I do…but-“
“Show me how much.” Abby ponders the words a moment. The weight of all the armour she’s carried around—the pride, the walls, the constant need to be strong, to protect—is suddenly exhausting. Abby starts to feel a strange surrender stirring in her chest, something she’s never let herself explore. And just like that she’s kneeling.
“Good girl.” She coo’s. Abby blushes, kissing the inside of her thighs. “Can I take them off?” She asks softly. The woman shakes her head.
“We’re doing it my way today. You’re gonna ride my face and you’re not going to touch me until I have you whimpering and begging for it, does that sound fun love?” She questions, her voice laced in pretty power. Abby sighs. What the hell was she doing?
“Yes.” She agrees. “Yes that sounds good.”
The woman lies down flat beside her. “Sit.”
Abby stands up, removing her pants quickly, the sound of her belt unbuckling proving to be her girlfriends favourite noise. She takes off her underwear too, adding them to the pile. She positions herself carefully upon her girlfriends face, hovering just slightly above. The girl rolls her eyes.
“Really Abby? You were just looking at me like I was the first fruit on a barren wasteland but you won’t sit like a fucking good girl?” She demands, genuinely slightly annoyed. Abby blushes.
“I just don’t want to crush you, I’m quite a lot of woman-“
“Sit on my fucking face or I swear I’ll walk o-mmm…” She hums into Abby’s cunt that had now found itself in her mouth. Abby rocked her hips slowly at first, but at her girlfriends sucking and licking, had begun increasing its pace, becoming messier, more desperate.
Her moans were ethereal noises, as if she were singing the very chorus of their world. They got louder and less cohesive, the shouts of her girlfriends name transforming into whimpers and almost shrieks.
She could feel herself nearing orgasm, her stomach dancing in waves that drove her head mad, but something else stirred within her as well. Something foreign that made Abby a little nervous. Something that crashed through her and squirted onto her girlfriends face. Abby panicked, quickly rolling off of her and apologising.
“Oh my g…I don’t even know what just…I am SO sorry…” Her girlfriend just laughs, wiping her face a little.
“You squirted Abby. Holy fucking shit, as much as I love when you tie me up and pound the shit out of me if I had known your body could do this I would beg to fuck you more often.” Abby, still embarrassed, finally managed to speak.
“You do beg me, often.”
“And only now you agree. Perhaps we have to do this every day now to make up for it.”
“Will you just shut up and let me touch you now?” She asks, desperately wanting to change the subject. The woman just watches her expectingly and Abby sighs.
“…Please?”
“Good girl.”
AN: [guys I'm SOOOOO excited about the showwwwwwww]
As someone who isn’t much of a pedro pascal enjoyer I found myself pleasantly surprised by how hot I found him in TLOU.
Come to find out the source material is just that fione like damnnn…pulling the ol’ Dr Carlisle on me like we haven’t played these games before
I was living vicariously through Tess in the game their banter was so 💔
Oh so NOW we’re dating…(don’t mind me, i haven’t watch season 2 yet, just going based off of spoilers 🧑🦯)
Hot take(yap session)
To be honest as much as I think the actors chosen for the last of us TV show are great at capturing the personalities of each character, especially Bella, but there are some characters in which appearance does take a role in the story (yes im talking about Abby🧑🦯 and Ellie) don’t get me wrong, I like Bella and Kaitlyn. However it just doesn’t feel right. Bella is an amazing choice for teen Ellie but with older Ellie..she is more known for being intimidating and brutal if you know what i mean. I don’t have an opinion on Kaitlyn cause I havent seen any of the movies/shows she’s been in but to get to the point, the importance of Abby having her muscular figure is that not only does it show that she had been training hard to get her revenge on Joel/ever since her father died but you also have to remember that her fighting style is more close combat and strength wise than Ellie’s. No hate to the actresses though.
(Also i do not support Neil Druckmann🙅♀️🙅♀️)
Yesyesyes Ellie Williams has and always will be for the lesbians
if you don't like the last of us bc you think bella is "not hot enough" to play ellie, is bc you are not a lesbian. we the sapphics think she's hot as fuck.
I love Dina so much, and so excited to see her the rest of the season!!But I’m not sure how I felt about how current-trend coded she was. (For lack of a better term) Just for the fact that it’s supposed to be a future apocalyptic world, they’re not going to have the same lingo and stuff as what’s popular rn. Idk, how do you guys feel abt it?
I’m the 1st episode just came out but I’m already thinking abt the fact that we only have 6 more 😭😭😭 and then we have to WAIT AGAIN.
*shakes in fear* they— they really are following the games well, huh?
Bella Ramsey is an amazing actor and so excited to see their acting in S2!
with the last of us season 2 coming out all I have to say is
Bella Ramsey is Ellie, if you don’t like it you don’t need to watch the show nobody’s forcing you
My gf is a Pedro and Joel lover and we’re planning on watching tlou s2 together in a few days when it comes out. She doesn’t know the game but I do, going to be thinking this meme every time I see her until ✨the scene✨ happens
Omfg I need to fucking vent it’s been 2weeks since season 2 premiered.
It’s morning for me rn and I’ve been scrolling on Snap for a bit AND THE AMOUNT OF VIDEOS IVE SEEN SHIT TALKING BELLA FOR NOT LOOKING LIKE ELLIE DOWN TO THE LAST MOLECULAR ATOM FOR ELLIS DNA IS FUCKING INSANE
You shouldn’t be basing your opinion of Bella and the show just because Bella doesn’t look EXACTLY like Ellie. You should be looking at Bella’s acting instead.
Bella’s acting is soooooo fucking good. And especially at the end of ep2(iykyk).
AND I FUCKING SWEAR THAT IF IG GO BACK TO SNAP OR YOUTUBW OR WHATEVER AND SEE A BIDOE SHIT TALKING NOT JUST BELLA BUT KAITLYN TOO!?
IM GOING TO FUCKING RIOT. YES HATE ABBY ALL YOU WANT IDGAF BUT HATING KAITLYN BECAUSE SHE DOESNT LOOK LIKE ABYY DOWN TL THE LAST MOLECULAR ATOM OS FUCKING INSANE. SAME HIES FOR BELLA.
thank you for coming to my NedTalk😁
Friendly reminder that as devastating as THAT scene is, y'all better leave Kaitlyn Dever THE FUCK alone. Hate Abby all you want, but Kaitlyn is an actress and a real human. Do NOT repeat what happened to Laura Bailey. Okay thx bye
“Appeal to a wider audience” is corporate lingo for “strip more themes from a piece of media so it’s safer and more sanitized for investors”
TLOU SPOILERS ‼️ T L O U ‼️ S P O I L E R S ‼️
me @ myself, who hasn’t started tlou2: there’s only two episodes of tlou out, i can’t have missed much, right?
WRONG
how is he already dead?
LMAO I THOUGHT I HAD MORE TIME HOW IS HE ALREADY DEAD
and i find out from a tiktok? oh, this day is so screwed
— 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢
paused mid breakdown after THAT scene from TLOU season 2 to document the psychic and physical damage that WILL inspire my next piece. ache in the back of my throat still hasn’t subsided. i pray for every poor soul who never saw it coming, or knew it was. a tragic, haunting, brawling masterpiece that will BE 2020s television legacy.
THEY MADE JOEL SO DAD CODED IN THE NEW EPISODE IM GONNA CRY
LOOK AT HIM
SPARE HIM, ABBY
currently at €32,917 / €50,000 !!
if i could bring your attention for a second to amal ashour's campaign @amalashuor please. this is vetted #175 on spreadsheet
ive posted about her before, amal is a mother of a young daughter who was only 9 months old when the war began. her and her husband and daughter have lost everything and been displaced many times and now struggle to afford daily necessities. the funds from this campaign have been helping them survive since they have no other income and prices are extremely high in gaza.
unfortunately theyve just been displaced again when the genocidal israeli army ordered them to evacuate deir al-balah and go west, towards the sea. every time that people are displaced in gaza it is extremely expensive and taxing. transportation and fuel prices are high, and because the idf gives little warning and constantly changes "safe zones," people often are forced to leave behind their tents. read amals post where she explains everything theyve been through and how much its cost them in her own words.
its such a scary situation in gaza right now. so many people being forced to leave again to even smaller areas with nowhere to go. thankfully amal and her family have survived so far but she's had to spend a lot of the money from the campaign on these expenses. shes raised the goal of this campaign to reflect this.
amal sent me these messages earlier today... people are trapped in an actual living hell right now. its really far beyond what we can comprehend from the outside.
please keep participating in this campaign and help amal reach her new goal. even small donations add up and make a difference. if you cant donate, share this with someone who can. this is really important
