#on my plan to drop chapters once the whole fic is posted and see what its like to have a posting schedule hmm

[creativenicocorner]

THE PEER REVIEWED FIC TITLE RESULTS ARE I N !!

the winner is GLOW WORMS

also shoutout to @edarflyfor the realist tags I've seen while the poll was circulating haha

you were absolutely correct, I am boo boo the fool for not realizing sooner haha

BUT SINCE IM ALSO BISEXUAL IM GOING TO COMBINE THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS AND UNNECESSARILY COMPLICATE MATTERS!!

so STEP ASDE Glow Worms [working title] and say hello to the official fic name:

Glow Worms or rather: In the Depths of the Safflower Hills

thank you to all who participated!!

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: smut (m masturbation), language

Chapter Three

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

You were nervous about the office dynamic once you broke up with Justin. That following Monday, you walked into the department and risked a glance over to his desk. He was hunched over his keyboard, burying himself in some report, looking mildly panicked. You frowned as you made your way to your chair and slunk down, punching in your password while you waited for your computer to boot up.

Colleen popped up quietly behind you.

"Sooooo? How was camping?” she whispered with a huge grin on her face. "Tell me all the details!”

She propped herself against the edge of your desk, trying not to draw Justin’s attention.

“I broke up with him,” you whispered back, eyes wide. You needed to tell someone, your nerves were on fire. You knew you shouldn’t have told the queen of gossip, but people would have figured it out soon enough. Colleen’s jaw dropped.

"What?! Why?” she whispered back, but louder than the first time. You put a finger up to your lips, indicating she was being too loud.

"I don’t know, I just don’t feel the same way he does. He’s a sweet guy, but there’s no spark. I didn’t want to lead him on,” you told her, and turned back to your computer, opening your email program.

“Well, your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I don’t think he’s got the time to be upset over it. He came in this morning to an email from Joel, with Heather cc’d, wanting a full breakdown on the 401K contributions for the past 6 months. Apparently, he caught some discrepancy, and he wants answers first thing this morning,” she said, raising her head a few inches to glance over the top of your cubical wall in his direction. “He must be shitting his pants; Joel never contacts any of us directly. I don’t think he even knows most of our names.”

You felt guilty as relief flooded through you. At least there was a distraction from the elephant in the room.

About an hour later, Heather came to collect Justin. He followed her out of the room with a folder tucked under his arm and nervously running a hand through his hair. As he walked by your desk, he gave you a tight-lipped smile, which you returned. At least he wasn’t the type of guy to be an asshole about being dumped.

It had been three hours since Justin and Heather left for their meeting. At this point, his absence was painfully obvious to the whole room, and everybody had given up on trying to be discreet.

The whole department had rolled their desk chairs out to the openings of their respective cubes so they could all see one another as they gossiped and speculated wildly. All except for you. You tried your best to stay out of it, but you kept overhearing everyone’s chatter, and it was incredibly distracting.

“They couldn’t possibly still be talking about a minor discrepancy, could they?” one person asked.

“No way, something happened by now. Oh my God, what if he was stealing from our 401Ks? I read a newspaper article about someone doing that last week!”

“Oh come on, Justin wouldn’t do that,” Colleen chimed in. “I bet they finished up their meeting a long time ago, and he and Heather are in her office doing a deeper dive into the numbers together.”

Everyone went quiet for half a second when the electronic beeping of the door keypad caught the attention of the room. Chairs were hurriedly being pushed back up against desks, and fingers furiously typed, trying to log back into computers that had been long asleep during the gossip.

Heather walked into the hushed room with an empty banker’s box in her hands and headed straight for Justin’s desk. She set it down on his chair and turned to address the room openly.

"Hey guys, I’m sorry I didn’t have the time to call a formal meeting, but I wanted to tell you all personally before the email from HR comes out... Justin quit this morning.” She paused when a couple of people quietly gasped and exchanged looks. “Now I know we are going to have some big shoes to fill, I may call upon some of you to help and do some overtime until we can find a suitable candidate to take his position. As always, if any of you want to recommend anyone you know, my door is always open. But for now, we will just have to make do. Does anyone have any questions? You know I like to be transparent with you.”

Heather glanced around the room of stunned faces. Everyone was wondering the same question, but nobody had the nerve to ask it, until Debbie spoke up from behind you.

"Why did he quit? Was it Joel?” She was standing outside her cube, frowning with her arms crossed, no doubt feeling some residual anger from when Cheryl quit just a few short months ago. Your boss sighed, and slowly nodded.

"Yes. Well, yes and no. Joel really grilled him in that meeting this morning, it went a full hour. I did everything I could to take some of the heat, but Joel was just dialed in on Justin today, I don’t know what got into him. He had a million questions, one after another, and it eventually got to a point where he was outright questioning Justin’s job performance and skillset. It finally got to be too much for him, and Justin announced he was quitting.” Heather paused for a moment and looked around the room at the team. She turned and pulled Justin’s chair from his desk, moving the empty box to the floor. She sat down, looking as if she was exhausted from just recounting the events from the meeting. She rubbed her pointer and middle fingers against her temples for a moment, and then continued.

“Joel didn’t say anything wrong; this is his company, and he has every right to ask those questions… he just has such a harsh way of addressing things. It is a lot to handle. I managed to grab Justin at the elevators and took him back to my office for a while. I tried to convince him to stay but he just wouldn’t hear it, he had his mind made up. I’m sorry guys, I really tried. I know this will put a burden on some of you, I will do my best to fill the position as soon as I can.”

The keypad that operated the door started chiming, and in walked Mike from the mailroom. He had his head down, looking at the pile of mail in his cart, bopping along to the music feeding through his CD player and into his headphones, oblivious to the awkwardness in the room. He stopped at your desk like usual and dropped a big stack of envelopes in your inbox, gave you a quick smile, and turned to leave.

Heather quietly began filling the box with Justin’s personal effects, looking like she desperately needed a cigarette or a coffee break. Or both.

You exchanged a quick glance with Colleen, one that said ‘we are definitely going to talk more about this when she leaves’. Then you noticed the envelope at the very top of your mail pile: Sullivan Agency, LLC.

Your heart thudded in your chest. It was a strange feeling – your body was waging a war within you: relief vs fear. Relief that you didn’t have to pay Mr. Sullivan’s balance out of your paycheck, but fear that you would now have to go to Joel’s office as he requested and tell him about the check.

You shakily opened the envelope and sure enough, as promised, was a check for the full balance due on his account.

You stood up, feeling slightly lightheaded as you made your way over to Heather. She jumped slightly when you quietly said her name.

"I just got the check from Mr. Sullivan. What should I do? Should I just email Joel and tell him it came, or do we really have to go to his office?”

You prayed she would tell you to just email him, but unfortunately, she said “We should tell him in person, I don’t want to make him even more mad.” She stopped organizing Justin’s picture frames and buried her face in her hands for a moment, trying to collect herself. She raised her head up, clasped her hands in front of her mouth in thought, then turned in the chair towards you.

“I really hate to ask you this… do you mind going up to his office by yourself? He’s had enough of me today, and quite frankly I’ve had enough of him, too. He seemed to take a liking to you, it won’t be that bad, it'll be quick.”

She looked at you hopefully, desperately, eyes begging, but followed up with “If you are really uncomfortable, I can go with you, it’s just...” her gaze drifted back to Justin’s desk, and the enormity of just how much work this put on her plate was likely hitting home. Updating a job description, meeting with HR, creating the job posting, screening applicants… the list went on.

You shook your head, always the people pleaser you said, “I got it, don’t worry, I will go up there right now and just get it over with."

You gave her a small smile as relief flooded her face. Heather asked if you were sure, and you promised her you were. Before your resolve broke, you turned on your heel and left, heading towards the elevator. 

The moment the elevator opened and you stepped out onto the 10th floor, your heart lept into your throat. The nerves were finally catching up with you. You looked up and saw a small desk situated between two closed doors. Behind the desk sat a kindly looking older woman. She had hair so grey that it looked almost blue, and it was woven on top of her head into a conical shape. She looked up at you through her plastic pink framed glasses, which were adorned with a chain that wrapped around the back of her neck so she wouldn’t lose them. She smiled at you warmly, her bright pink lipstick somewhat smudged on her front tooth and beckoned you over. Your eyes flicked to her name plate - Ruby Potter - as you returned her smile and walked over.

“Hi there, dear, who are you here to see?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Miller," you said without thinking. Ruby chuckled.

"Dear, they are both ‘Mr. Miller’. Which one?”

"J-Joel, I’m here to see Joel. I have a check for him," you stuttered, your cheeks warming from embarrassment.

She picked up her phone and punched one of the buttons on her speed dial, lazily lifting the headset to her ear.

"You have an accountant here to see you,” she said. She had forgotten to ask your name. You tried to mouth it to her, but she waved you away, as if she did this all the time. You couldn’t hear the words on the other end of the phone, but you could hear the tone – it was sharp and aggravated. Ruby seemed unphased. Once the other end of the line went silent, Ruby said “So do you want me to send her in, or not?” She nodded with whatever Joel said in response and hung up the phone.

“Go right on in, dear. His office is that one.” She languidly pointed to her right, your left, and then turned her attention back to her computer. You took a moment to appreciate the elderly woman’s ease. She clearly dealt with Joel’s wrath countless times, yet she was completely collected. In fact, she sat before you, well past her retirement years, working directly for the man himself without a care in the world.

That gave you a small confidence boost. If Ruby could handle Joel, so could you. Afterall, it’s just words. You had a job to do, you did nothing wrong, you are here because he requested it. 

You approached Joel’s office door and gently gave it three quiet knocks. You waited until you heard his acknowledgement to enter. You twisted the doorknob, opened the door just enough so you could squeeze through, and shut it behind you.

Shit, maybe you should have left it cracked. Too late now.

Your eyes locked onto the back of his tall, broad frame as he stood facing away from you, one of his arms resting above his head against the window. He was overlooking the city through the floor length windows as he finished up a call on his cell phone.

You had no idea what he said on the phone, you were far more distracted with how large and strong his shoulders looked in his white button-down shirt. Your gaze slowly traveled down, taking in his dark grey dress pants and noticing how generously they hugged his backside. You only wished he had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows like before - you wanted to see his muscles twitching under that tanned skin again. You watched in a daze as he lifted his arm from the window and ran his long fingers through his dark curls, wrapping up the phone call.

Get it together, what is wrong with you??

He pushed a button on his cell and began speaking without even turning around.

"What do you need now? I already told you-“ Joel swiveled around to see you standing before him, eyes wide, nervously clutching the envelope in your hands from Mr. Sullivan. He stopped short when he realized you weren’t Heather, and his expression softened a fraction. You must have surprised him, because before he could catch himself, he was raking his eyes up and down your entire frame, sending a shiver up the back of your spine. You were grateful you happened to wear your most flattering light blue sundress today. You thought this morning when you put it on that it would give you the confidence to get through seeing Justin at work for the first time since your break up. You never thought you would need that confidence for this moment.

You meekly cleared your throat.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Miller. You wanted me to tell you when Mr. Sullivan’s check came…” you trailed off, your cheeks feeling warm under his intense gaze. You needed to look somewhere else. You glanced down at the now crumpled envelope in your hand and stretched out your arm to eagerly show him your prize. You were at least 10 feet away from him, barely inside his office at all. It looked ridiculous; he obviously couldn’t take it from you at this range.

He nodded, pursing his lips, and then showed mercy on you when he finally looked away to take the few short strides back to his desk chair. He sat down, glancing back up at you expectantly from across the room.

"Sit.” he ordered, motioning towards one of the two chairs placed in front of his desk.

You responded to his command quickly, and you thought you saw a twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it disappeared too fast for you to be sure.  You sat down in one of the chairs, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you waited while he scrolled through his emails, looking bored. Looking down at the envelope in your hands, you gently fingered the edges in order to focus your energy somewhere. Why did he want you to sit? This should have been a quick conversation.

Joel cleared his throat, and keeping his eyes on the computer monitor, he began to unbutton the cuffs of his dress shirt. First the left sleeve, then the right, taking his time. He began to methodically roll his left sleeve up, up, up all the way to his elbow, before he leisurely did the same to the right sleeve. You didn’t realize your eyes had snapped up when you saw him begin to uncuff his sleeves, so by the time he finished, you had barely blinked and your lips were slightly parted, breath ever so slightly quickening as he finished his task. You didn’t notice your reaction, but out of the corner of his eye, Joel certainly did. He fought to contain the confident smirk that threatened to spill across his face.

He was right, you had been checking him out in that meeting.

“Give it to me,” he said, turning his probing gaze towards you once again. You looked into his dark, beautiful eyes for a moment, not sure what he meant. Then it came to you. The check.

Wordlessly, you outstretched your hand once again to hand him the envelope. Without breaking eye contact, Joel reached out and took the envelope from your grasp, but in the process grazed two long fingers gently against the back of your hand, sending sparks through your entire body at the contact.  You gasped softly, and clamped your mouth shut. You dropped your gaze, embarrassed, while you waited for him to open the envelope and hopefully dismiss you. The tension was too intense, you needed this to end.

Joel didn’t seem to mind the tension in the room, or even notice it for that matter. He slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the check within. He took note of the amount as a small yellow post-it fell out. You hadn’t seen that before in your rush to get up to his office, you had no idea what it said.

Joel picked it up and read it thoughtfully to himself. When he didn’t say anything after a minute, you finally spoke.

"What does it say?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

He swallowed before bringing his heated gaze back up to you.

"It says: Thank you for showing me such kindness during my time of need. I’m sorry for the late payment. It won’t happen again.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap, a small smile threatening to tug at your lips.

“You were right this time, but don’t be naïve. Not everyone is always tellin’ you the truth,” he warned, sliding the check and post-it note back into the envelope. You nodded in agreement, still sheepishly looking down at your hands.

Joel gazed at the top of your head as you stared at your lap. He didn't want the conversation to end.

"You’re doin’ a good job," he told you, pausing to reflect for a moment. "Thank you for making that connection with my client. I’m not good at all that. Talkin’ about their personal stuff. That’s more Tommy’s side of things.” He reached across his desk and held out the envelope for you to take back.

You looked up at his outstretched hand, and careful to avoid touching him again, took it. 

"Thank you, Mr. Miller,” you replied softly, and stood up from your seat.

You gave Joel a quick smile and turned to head towards the door. Halfway to the exit, you stopped and turned back around, finding Joel’s eyes had yet to leave your body.

“I bet you would be good at it," you said, then your eyes widened as you realized how that sounded. “I-I mean, talking to the clients, learning about them, their personal lives…” you rambled as heat spread across your cheeks.

He stared at you for an awkward moment, considering your words.

“Well, I should be getting back to work,” you said, hitching your thumb to the door behind you, but before you could turn away, Joel stopped you.

"Thanks, sweetheart, maybe I’ll try it sometime,” he said, his expression softer.

You nodded and forced yourself to look away from the uncharacteristically relaxed features on his face. You turned to leave the room, but the door suddenly swung open. You nearly lost your balance, but a strong arm shot out to catch you.

“Jesus, Tommy, would ya watch it?” Joel growled from behind his desk, his expression leaving no traces of the softness you had just witnessed.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t know my brother had anyone in here.” Tommy eyed you up appreciatively and grinned. “I don’t believe we formally met, I’m Tommy,” he stuck out his hand, which you quickly shook and gave him a polite smile, telling him your name.

You hastily made your exit, squeaking out an excuse about work, and shut the door.

“Do ya ever knock?” Joel seethed, but Tommy was too busy staring at the closed door, still thinking about the way your ass looked in your blue dress.

“I’m happy for you, Joel,” Tommy said, ignoring his question, and strolled over to a small cluster of framed pictures on the wall that haven’t been updated since they started the business. He leaned in to examine them more closely. “You need to be gettin’ back out there. I won't even give you any shit for dippin’ your pen in the company ink, like you did to me.”

“The hell you on about?” Joel replied, taking the opportunity to adjust himself under his desk while Tommy’s back was still turned. The way you were blushing and squirming in his office had a bigger effect on him than he thought. And you hadn’t even been trying. Not like him, rolling up his sleeves on purpose to see your reaction. He shuddered to think what it would be like if you actually tried to seduce him. He would be a puddle on the floor.

“Nothin’ was goin’ on, she just brought me a check.” Joel stood and walked around the front of his desk, leaning up against the edge of it, arms crossed and surveying the back of Tommy’s head.

Tommy chuckled, still examining the photos.

“Yeah, right. She was blushin’ like a whore in church when she left. Ya know, you should really get some new pictures in here. Did ya know you still got this old picture of the bunch of us at that rodeo? It’s got Amy in it.”

Joel sucked in air through his clenched teeth, the rest of his hard on instantly disappearing at the mention of her name.

“Sorry, Joel. It’s been so long, we still ain’t allowed to talk about it?” Tommy walked over behind Joel’s desk and flopped down in his chair, which made Joel have to turn around and sit in the same chair you had just occupied moments before.

“What’s there left to talk about?” Joel sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Do you still talk to her? Keep in touch?” Tommy asked, fiddling with a pen on the desk.

“No.” Joel responded harshly. “Why would I? Last I heard, she’s been shacked up with that prick somewhere in the Midwest.”

“It’s been five years, and I still haven’t seen ya go out on a date, coffee, nothin’. Why are you doin’ this to yourself?”

Joel shook his head and stood up, already missing the warmth your body left in the chair.

“I’m just busy, Tommy. Haven’t met anyone worth chasin’," he replied, grabbing a pen and pad of paper from his desk.

“Well, that little lady that just left is well worth chasin’, if you ask me.” Tommy stood up too, and joined Joel as they headed out of the office to the conference room for their next meeting.

“Nobody was askin’, just drop it.” Joel couldn’t have Tommy egging him on, it was already difficult enough to keep his mind off you.

Joel hardly heard a word all throughout their meeting with the Marketing department. He vaguely remembered the head of the department nervously working through a technical error on his presentation, which made IT have to get involved. But Joel barely noticed. All he could think about was you.

You: in that thin, blue dress. He remembered how your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and how you bit down on your lower lip when you tried to hold back a smile. He thought about how soft your skin felt when he gently grazed it with his fingers. How your knees pressed together as you squirmed in your seat, waiting for him to turn his attention to you. But you had no idea that his attention was always on you, even when you weren’t around. It was all consuming, at times overwhelming, the way he constantly recalled images of you in his mind. 

Joel was relieved when the IT department could not fix the technical error, and the meeting had to be rescheduled. Everyone in the room held their breath, Tommy included, for Joel’s inevitable outburst, but surprisingly none came.

“Check with Ruby and put it on my schedule,” Joel said, collecting his things and leaving the room.

Tommy stayed behind to chat with the head of Marketing while Joel made a beeline for his office. He shut the door quickly behind him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he leaned his head back on the door.

What was going on with him? Why couldn’t he get you out of his head?

This was Tommy’s fault, had to be. He kept bringing you up and forcing these thoughts into his head.

But it wasn’t Tommy’s fault when his cock jumped after he touched your hand and heard you gasp.

Fuck. This had to stop. He rubbed his hands over his face roughly, then something Tommy said came back to him. It had been a long time since he was with Amy. Tommy was right, he hadn’t been on any dates, he was just sexually frustrated. It was building up, and he needed a release. That would clear his head.

Joel turned and headed towards his private bathroom, which was just a small pocket door in the wall, hardly visible when you first walked in. He went in and locked the door behind him. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, already throbbing from the past hour of torture his thoughts have led him on.

Joel gripped the base firmly in his fist, and he squeezed his eyes shut, dreaming of you wearing that dress in his office. This time, when you squeezed your knees together, he imagined you were trying to create some friction to relieve the wet heat between your legs. You were just as turned on as he was in his fantasy. Joel lazily ran his hand up and down his cock, as his imagination kept carrying him away.

He wondered what kind of panties you were wearing under that dress. Maybe they were lace, or a thong. Maybe you weren’t wearing any at all. There we go.

He started running his hand up and down his shaft faster, his breath quickening as his fantasy took hold.

Now he was bunching your dress up around your hips, hitching your leg around his waist as he grabbed onto the back of your neck, bringing you closer so he could suck on the pulse point in your throat, making you moan his name. He pushed you on top of his desk, and you let yourself fall backwards, recklessly shoving papers and files off his desk.

He could feel his release bubbling to the surface now, as his movements became more frantic, and his other hand grasped the towel bar next to the sink for leverage.

Now Joel saw you bouncing on his cock, still wearing that pretty little dress, but your tits were spilled over the top. He pulled one nipple into his mouth, making you cry out and bounce faster, while his fingers brushed gently against the other one. You grabbed the sides of his face and dragged his mouth up to yours, hovering over each other’s mouths, gasping, but still not touching, as you bounced faster, faster, faster… 

Joel groaned and desperately reached out to grab a tissue from the box next to the sink, right in time to catch his thick ropes of come. His hips gently thrusted forward as he came down from his high, breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut.

He opened his eyes as his breathing returned to normal, glancing around the room to steady himself.  He looked down, grateful he didn’t make a mess on his dress pants. He cleaned himself up, flushed the tissue down the toilet, tucked himself back into his pants and went to wash his hands.

He cupped some water from the sink and rinsed his face. Drying himself with the towel, he looked up at the mirror and saw a dirty, old man, who had just jerked off to the thoughts of a much younger employee. The shame was setting in now.

I hope you enjoyed it, you dirty fuck. She would never give you the real thing.

Joel dried his hands, and left the bathroom, feeling guilty, but couldn’t deny he had a much clearer head.

He didn’t see you for at least a full week. That whole week, he felt like himself again. He could see clearly; his thoughts weren’t all jumbled up and he was back to barking orders to his teams on jobsites.

He just needed to jerk off. That’s all it was. No big deal.

Early one morning before most of the employees started their work day, he made his way down to Heather’s office on the 6th floor. She had left him a voicemail saying that the company was being audited, and she needed to speak with him right away. This would require a lot of work from her department, and she needed him to approve the overtime, especially since he scared off your pretty little boyfriend, the department remained shorthanded. He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved in his pockets, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. It was quickly becoming his new look, just in case he ran into you.

He turned the corner towards Heather’s office but stopped short when he heard you laughing. He peered around a corner and saw you with some co-workers in the break room.

He was frozen to the ground, taking in your beautiful smile and laugh as you tried not to spill the coffee in your hand. You were wearing a knee-length flowy black skirt, with a V-neck light purple blouse. When you bent over to laugh again, he saw a glimpse of your tits bouncing under your shirt. He held his breath for a moment, trying to will himself forward, when you suddenly looked over and met his gaze. 

Your friends didn’t notice him standing there, and you didn’t say anything. You just ran your eyes up and down his body, pausing on his exposed forearms. You gave him a shy smile and a little wave. Before he realized it, he was slowly lifting his hand up in return.

He was fucked.

Chapter Four

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 1

okayyy so I’m completely done with this fic! I’m editing my posts now, and I’m not sure if it’ll all get done tonight. Definitely tomorrow. Here’s the first chapter, hope you enjoy!

table of contents you have everything (you still want more)

To say you were blindsided would be a gross understatement. 

You were metaphorically slapped in the face so hard that you feel like you have a broken neck due to whiplash.

Your boyfriend had been away for the week with his football team, and you hadn’t been able to go with him. So you’d done what any WAG would do and watched the match on his giant telly, all decked out in pale blue.

Life with Jamie Tartt as your boyfriend was great. You’d been dating since secondary school while he was in the academy. It was strange to go from chicken shop dates to meals that cost more than your rent. He’d promised to pay for your uni fees which was a godsend because there was no way you’d be able to afford it on your own. You both had a whole future planned together.

Which is why you’re shocked to see Jamie’s name in the papers, followed by the name Keeley Jones.

And a picture of them kissing.

You aren’t even googling him when you find out. You’re out for groceries of all things, groceries for his welcome-home dinner in a day and a half. His name catches your eye so you stop to smile at him before you realize what you’re looking at.

The world goes fuzzy, your gaze locked on their lips.

In a single moment, your world has been tilted completely on its head.

You find yourself in Jamie’s too-large flat, staring at your phone, willing yourself to press the green call button.

You take a shallow breath and hold the phone up to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost to the point where it’ll go to voicemail, but then you hear Jamie say, “What?”

“What?” you reply, “what do you mean, what? I should be the one asking you that? What the fuck are you doing kissing an instagram model??”

Jamie snorts and says four words that cause your heart to drop like a stone.

“We’re broken up, babe.”

Your breath is coming in too fast and too shallow. “When were you going to tell me that we fucking broke up? And don’t call me babe!” you choke out.

Jamie says, “Thought it were implied,” in a dismissive voice. It’s foreign to you. He’s never spoke to you- to anyone like this before.

“Right, okay, yeah, makes total sense. I find out we’ve broken up after seeing you in the papers with another girl,” you retort.

“Glad it’s finally clicking,” Jamie says. It’s strange how much he can hurt you, even through the phone. 

A voice calls him in the background, a voice you presume belongs to Keeley Jones, and then there’s silence. He’s hung up. 

You stare at your phone for a long, long time. 

—

All you can think about is what you did wrong. You comb Jamie’s flat for anything that belongs to you, shove it into your car, and drive back to your own, too-small too-crowded flat. 

You wonder if you were too clingy as you carefully fold up every Man City kit. You think it’s possible you weren’t affectionate enough as you stack every polaroid photo. You wonder if maybe it has to do with your physical appearance as you hunt for scissors and some matches.

You try to make yourself not care as you burn the photos and cut up the shirts.

Your hands linger over a maroon away kit. It was always your favorite, and for a moment you consider keeping it.

Then you remember Jamie saying, glad it’s finally clicking as though you never meant anything, so you grab the scissors and cut it into shreds.

—

Uni is out of the question. There is absolutely no way you’re going to be able to afford it so you start two full-time jobs. 

Every day feels like a struggle to breathe. You get out of bed and tell yourself I can do this as you get ready for work and tighten your budget. The drowning feeling never quite goes away, but the months pass all the same. 

You’re grateful that although you don’t save a lot of money, you’re able to pay your bills on time. Your flatmates generally leave you alone when you’re home, but you’ve found ice cream in the freezer with your name on it that you know you didn’t buy. They’ll place a blanket over you every time you fall asleep on the couch, and fervently ban all Manchester City merchandise from entering the flat.

Breakthrough comes in the form of a gift.

A literal gift, and one you’re giving, not receiving.

It’s a set of earrings for a friend, hoops with her name set around them. She wears them to work exactly once, and the next thing you know, orders are pouring in. 

It’s enough that you quit one job, then the next, then hire both flatmates to help you in the evenings. Pretty soon, there’s an opportunity for you to open a small shop in a part of London. You get a larger flat (all to yourself!) and before long, Manchester blue no longer haunts you.

—

The bell above the door rings, signifying a customer. 

“Hi, you okay?” you say from behind the counter. You turn around and lock eyes with Keeley Jones, followed by Jamie Tartt.

Just breathe.

Jamie looks spooked, well, he looks spooked to you. Not sure if anyone else would know his expressions well enough to catch the shock cross his face. Keeley smiles brightly, and you can see that same adoring look you used to have. Maybe a little muted, she’s more mature than you were, so she probably understands her role in this relationship. Enjoy it while you can, get out before it hurts.

You can’t think about it now so before Jamie can ruin anything more you decide to play dumb and fucking introduce yourself as though your ex-boyfriend and the woman he shagged behind your back aren’t in your safe space that you created to escape him.

Keeley didn’t know, you remind yourself, except at this point it’s more of a prayer of faith hingeing on Jamie’s apparent selfish nature. There’s a good chance he didn’t mention you, a far cry from the boy who used to follow you grocery shopping because he liked to be with you (and so he could slip his card in the register before you had a chance to protest).

“Hi, I’m Keeley,” she says with a smile. “This one’s Jamie, but you’ll be hearing more about him I’m sure. He’s a footballer on loan to AFC Richmond, and he’s fucking brilliant on the pitch.”

You copy her smile. “How can I help you?”

“I saw your earrings on instagram, and I absolutely had to get some. Then when we moved here, I wanted to see your shop! And this one said he’d get them for me, isn’t that sweet?” 

Keeley wraps herself around Jamie’s arm, oblivious to the way he can’t figure out how to react.

He settles on a nod and a grunt, so you pull out different hoop sizes and letter fonts, and get to work.

She settles on gold, with tiny letters spelling Keeley.

“They’ll be ready for pickup in three days,” you say, ushering them out the door.

Keeley hasn’t stopped smiling this whole time and in contrast, Jamie hasn’t stopped frowning, but they’ve made their purchase and are headed down the street.

The moment they’re well and truly gone, you pull out your phone and Google, Jamie Tartt richmond. The top results are all about his loan from City to AFC Richmond, your Richmond; your escape is no longer an escape. It’s only a matter of time before his face is plastered all around town. The thought of it turns your stomach.

But there’s no way you’ll ever see him. 

So you get through your day like normal, head back home, and play too-loud music through your headphones as you cook dinner. By the time it’s ready, you’re dancing to Islands in the Stream with all worries about Jamie firmly banished from your mind.

table of contents

[something-tofightfor]

Snow and Mistletoe - Part 1

A PedroStories Secret Santa gift fic

This is my submission for @pedrostories annual holiday event, and it's for @burntheedges. I was so excited to get you as a giftee, Kate, because your requests align with the way I tend to write my stories... and this one took on a life of its own. As you can see, this is only part 1. I tried to incorporate some (a lot) of the things that you said you enjoyed into this, and I think (hope) you'll be happy with how they're scattered throughout.

This is a no-outbreak AU, and while it doesn't quite follow canon, you're going to see a fair bit sprinkled in- because I can't help it and I've wanted to write more in depth for Joel and Sarah for a LONG time, so I really enjoyed this a lot.

Thank you so much for all that you've contributed to the Pedro fandom, and for sharing your writing with us. I hope you have a very Merry Christmas.

I plan on posting the other 2 parts + the epilogue throughout the day today and tomorrow, but part 1 can be read as a standalone if you'd like.

---

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

No Outbreak AU.

Word Count: 5,166

Rating: M - as a whole for language and innuendo, but this chapter is very tame.

Summary: You own a music shop in Austin, and both your niece and Sarah are employees. As a former classmate - and the father of your employee - Joel Miller has been a part of your life for many years.

But circumstances have never been exactly right for the two of you to get to know each other better ... until now, when outside intervention pushes you together just in time for the holidays.

“Ellie, go unlock the front door.” You looked up from what you were doing, pointing with one finger. “She’s going to be here any minute.” 

‘I’m kind of busy at the moment.” At her tone, you turned your head sharply, watching as she came around the corner with a stack of boxes in her arms. “You do it. Please?” When she peeked around the cardboard, she actually looked apologetic, so you agreed, hurrying toward the front entrance of your store. 

You were just in time, watching as a dark colored pick up pulled to the curb and the teenager hopped out, leaning her head back inside for a few seconds before waving and heading to where you stood. 

Pushing the glass door open, you grinned, holding it with one hand. “Morning, Sarah. How’s it going?” 

“Good.” Looking back over her shoulder, she nodded. “Really good.” 

You saw him in the truck, the man ducking his head and turning to look in your direction, giving you a view of his entire face. The windows were closed, so instead of saying anything, you lifted your hand and gave him a wave like you did every time he dropped her off - Joel nodding in return before he sat back up again and pulled back into traffic, beeping the horn once. 

You stared after him for a few seconds and then took a breath, your attention moving to the girl, still standing beside you. But she had a curious look in her face, her lips set into a tiny frown. “What?” Letting the door shut, you backed up and into the shop. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I’m … not?” She blinked, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Is Ellie here?”

“She is.” You pointed, the stack of boxes that the other teenager had carried in already sitting on the countertop, though she was nowhere in sight. “She’s probably back in one of the lesson rooms, if you want to go back there.” Sarah’s grin nearly split her face in half, her curls bouncing when she turned to head in the direction you’d suggested. “You guys have half an hour, alright? Store opens early this month because of Christmas, and -”

“We know!” Ellie’s head popped out of one of the rooms down the hall, her smile wide, too. “That’s why I’m already set up. C’mon Sarah. Hope you’re ready.” 

You watched as she headed for the hallway, both girls talking excitedly for a few seconds before they disappeared. “Alright.” Nodding to yourself, you looked around the showroom, letting out a breath. “Let’s get ready to open.” 

— 

Six and a half hours later, you were standing outside of the front doors, drinking a coffee that you’d had delivered. 

You rarely took an actual lunch while you worked. But, Ellie and Sarah were more than capable of handling the few customers you’d had that afternoon, and the closing crew would be in to take over within the hour. And I deserve this. 

Sipping the drink, you closed your eyes and were surprised a few seconds later by a deep voice on your right. “Did’ya order one of those for me, too?” 

“No, but you can have a sip of this one as long as you don’t just want plain coffee.” Holding the cup out, you smiled as Joel took the final few steps, reaching out with one hand to take the coffee from you. “You got done early today, hmm?”

“I did.” Raising your coffee to his lips, he look a long drink, humming at the taste. “Shit that’s good.” He held it back out to you but you shook your head, motioning for him to keep it. “I can’t, I -”

“You need it more than me.” He opened his mouth to argue but then decided against it, swallowing another mouthful. “Sarah’s off in a few minutes, do you want to go inside and wait for her?”

“I’m actually here for a couple new sets of strings.” He swiped at the back of his head with one hand, jutting his chin out toward the door. “Figured it’s a good time to change ‘em, and Sarah told me you guys are having a sale.”

“We are.” You pulled the door open, gesturing for him to walk in ahead of you. “I’d offer to point you in the right direction, but you’ve been coming in here longer than I’ve owned it, so…”

“If I need anything, I’ll be sure to come an’ find you.” He smiled, raising the cup again. “Thank you for this.” You turned away from him first, going over to the counter and slipping back behind it. Ellie was leaning there, her elbows resting on the glass. 

“Joel’s here early.” She looked up at you, raising a brow. “What were you two talking about?”

“Guitar strings.” She opened her mouth but before she could say anything, you held up a hand. “Not another word, Elanor.” She snorted, standing straight up and tapping her fingers against the countertop. 

“Alright. I’ll go into the back where you won’t hear anything else I have to say.” She looked between you and the showroom floor, her eyes bright. “But Sarah’s another story.” She beelined it around the counter and then toward the hallway, calling out a hello to Joel as she sped past. He grinned at her, saying hi back. There wasn’t time for anything else before she’d disappeared, leaving the two of you - and an older man who was looking at keyboards - alone. 

You could have stared at him for hours, but instead of letting your inner thoughts win, you busied yourself with menial tasks behind the counter, not looking up until someone cleared their throat to get your attention. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Joel waiting to check out. Instead the other customer was in front of you, three songbooks in his hands. “Which one of these should I buy for my grandson?” He set them down, fanning them out. “His parents got him a keyboard for his birthday last month, but he can’t play anything yet.” 

“I wouldn’t choose any of these.” You answered honestly, looking between the three options. “These are all for intermediate players, and if he just got the keyboard, it sounds like -”

“But the ones that are easier are all nursery rhymes.” He scowled at you, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “Kevin is fifteen. He’s too old for nursery rhymes.”

“If I could cut in…” You looked up to find Joel standing just behind the man, a few sets of guitar strings held between the fingers of one hand. “He might be too old to enjoy a nursery rhyme, but that doesn’t mean he should skip over learnin’ to play them.” Joel took a breath, giving you a look that clearly asked “is this alright”, and when you nodded he continued, pointing at the books. “You gotta start somewhere. Givin’ a kid something that they can’t play yet might make ‘em less likely to stick with it long term.” 

“You could buy two books,” you cut in, immensely thankful for Joel’s interjection. “One of the easier ones and then something a little more difficult that he can work up to?” You gestured to the back of the shop. “When I was teaching my niece how to play guitar, we stared with really simple things and she tried new ones when she felt comfortable.”

“Same here.” Joel stepped a little closer, nodding his head. “First day I picked up my guitar I thought I was going to be able to pull off Jimmy Page or Eddie Van Halen solos right away…” He laughed, rubbing at his beard with his free hand. “Turns out that was not the case.” You bit back a laugh at his words, watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. “It was months of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and Smoke on The Water before my fingers got used to playing.” He nodded at the man, his smile smaller but still there. “Get him one of the beginner books, and then explain you want him to feel confident before he tries somethin’ harder.” 

The older man was scowling, his eyes moving between the three books on the counter until he finally looked up at you. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.” He left them there when he turned and headed for the door, pushing past Joel on his way. You watched his back until he was gone, and then finally looked at Joel again, shrugging. 

“That could have gone better.” He set the strings down  - along with two packages of picks - and then spoke after letting out a deep sigh.

“Way he reacted it’s like we were accusin’ his grandson of bein’ an idiot.” Reaching for his stuff, you began scanning it, dropping things into a small plastic bag. “It’s common sense, though. Why overwhelm someone when they’re trying to learn?”

“I wish I knew.” Finishing and giving him the total, you watched as Joel swiped his card before tucking it back into his wallet and shoving the entire thing in his back pocket. Change the subject. “Which guitar are you restringing?” 

“Both of ‘em.” He leaned forward, resting his forearm on the glass, but leaving the bag where it was. “Cleanin’ and oilin’ the fretboards, too.” He looked down at his watch and then back at you. “Might even do it tonight.” 

“What an exciting Saturday night, dad.” Sarah reappeared, followed closely by Ellie, your niece carrying another stack of boxes and a clipboard. “Maybe if you actually answered some of the messages on that dating app you have, you could go out and do things on the weekends.” 

You felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of Joel going out on a date, but tried to push it down. You hadn’t ever made it known that you were interested - especially since you’d known him and Sarah for so long. But it’s harder not to say anything now that Sarah’s working here and I see him more. 

“I do plenty of things on the weekends.” Joel straightened up, putting a hand on his hip. “I hang out with you. I see your uncle Tommy. I work on the house, and -”

“Thrilling.” Sarah rolled her eyes, nudging him with her elbow and looking at you. “I clocked out, by the way, so I’m not just like … standing here on your time.” 

“You’re fine, Sarah.” Ellie set everything down and came to stand next to you, setting the clipboard down on he counter. “I’ll -”

“Speaking of thrilling…” Ellie cut in, crossing her arms and taking a seat on the barstool behind the register. “She told me the other day she’s not going to the Christmas thing at the community center next weekend because “Fridays and Saturdays are the busiest days in the store so I scheduled myself to work.” She made air quotes and changed her voice as she spoke, sending Sarah into a fit of giggles and even causing Joel to briefly smile as his gaze made its way back to you.  

“Well I mean, it’s the truth. Next Friday is -” 

“He said the same thing.” Sarah sighed loudly, looking pointedly at you and then at Ellie. “That he’s too busy to go, and needs to work. On what, I have no idea because he’s only got the one project right now.” Glancing at Joel, you felt alarm bells ringing in your head. Something’s happening here. Something is … this isn’t… “Bet if he had a date he’d change his mind.” 

“That’s got nothing to do with it, Sarah. I -” He looked down at her and then back at you, realization in his eyes. 

“Why don’t you two go together?”  Ellie picked up a pen and started doodling on the margin of the clipboard paper, not making eye contact. “To the party, I mean. Neither of you have plans to go, and you’ve both got really lame excuses.” She paused, finally looking up. “And you haven’t been out on a date in -”

“Ellie!” You hissed out the word, feeling the way heat rose to your cheeks. She’s not wrong, but … “I have to work next weekend. It’s not -”

“Do you?” It was Joel’s voice that caught your attention, the man clearing his throat. “Because I could probably take a couple hour break.” You caught it even though it was brief - a fleeting look of shock on Sarah’s face, her eyes immediately going to Ellie. Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that either. “If you wanted to.” 

You wanted to - more than you were willing to admit. But it would be weird, even if we just did it as friends. “It’s the weekend before Christmas, and -”

“We can work.” Sarah cut in, nodding. “I’m already supposed to be here for part of the afternoon, I’ll just stay later.” She shrugged. “Besides, the store closes before the party is over, so I can just take the bus from -”

“I’ll drive you.” Ellie waved her hand. “I close next Friday.” The girls went quiet, looking between you and Joel, who was also watching you with interest, laughter in his eyes. This is … 

“I don’t know.” He frowned, keeping an eye on you as you spoke. “I feel like I should -” 

“Come outside and talk to me for a minute.” Joel picked up the bag, closing his fingers around the handles. “Away from these two.” That you had no problem agreeing to, Ellie waving you off and Sarah doing the same to her father. 

He held the door open for you, and when he joined you on the sidewalk a few seconds later, pointing in the direction of the small parking lot next to the building, you fell into step next to him. “We just got Parent Trap-ed, didn’t we.” He snorted, agreeing. “You didn’t have to ask me just to -”

“Who says that’s what I’m doing?” You reached his truck, Joel unlocking it and setting the bag down on top of the center console. “Maybe I just want to get to know you.” He straightened back up and closed the door, leaning against it when he turned to look at you. “Sarah’s been workin’ with you for six months, and she an’ Ellie have been going to school together for a couple years.” So that’s the only reason? Because of them? Your face fell; you couldn’t help it, and even though you were able to even out your expression quickly, you were sure that he’d noticed. 

“Yeah, I mean … they’re friends. So it would make sense for us to be, too.” Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “If you’re serious, I’ll go with you.” Crossing your arms, you nodded again, chewing on the inside of your lip. “It’s just a couple of hours, right? “ 

“Right.” Joel swallowed, running his fingers through his hair. “I can pick you up? Makes sense to take one car.” He’s so practical. Everything’s … matter of fact. In all of the daydreams you’d ever had about Joel, you’d never had anything close to the one that was coming true, and if you were honest with yourself, it was disappointing. He said your name, interrupting your pity party, and when you looked back up, he’d relaxed a little more, reaching into his pocket and pulling his phone out. “Can I have your number?

You recited it to him, Joel carefully typing it into the device and then turning the screen around to confirm that he’d entered it correctly. When you told him that you had, you nodded twice and took a deep breath, holding it. “Alright, Joel… so I’ll see you next week?” 

“No.” He smiled, the expression genuine. “I’ll see you next time I pick up or drop Sarah off and you’re here, too.” That made you laugh. When you said goodbye, you were slightly less unsettled than you had been, heading back for the store’s door so that you could tell Sarah it was ok for her to leave. 

She and Ellie were still standing by the counter when you went back inside, both of them turning to look at you in the same moment. “You’re good to go, Sarah. Your dad’s in the parking lot.” She nodded, zipping her jacket up. “But before you go… I don’t know what the two of you are trying to do here, but putting Joel and I on the spot wasn’t -”

“You’re going out with him, aren’t you?” Ellie scrunched her face up as she looked at you, eyes narrowing. “And you like him, so -”

“It made things awkward, El.” You looked at Sarah, sighing. “For him, too. So just … think about that, alright?” 

Neither of them said anything else to you, Sarah telling Ellie goodbye and then walking out the front door, leaving you and your niece alone. “Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.” You exhaled, rubbing at your eyes. “It’s just … weird.” And even weirder because of how awkward it feels.  The door opened and two customers walked in, effectively ending the conversation there, though you knew that you’d be continuing it when you got home. 

— 

You and Ellie made dinner together that night, but neither of you spoke while you did it, moving through the kitchen silently. It wasn’t until you were sitting at the table together, bowls of pasta in front of you that you broke the silence. 

“Why did you and Sarah decide to do that today?” She took a bite, chewing through it to give herself a chance to think of an answer. 

“Ever since I’ve been giving her lessons, we’ve been talking a lot more.” She bit down on a breadstick, waving the remainder in the air. “We’re friends already, but I’ve never really asked her about Joel until now, and …” She shrugged. “She said he hasn’t dated much lately. All he does is work and hang out with his brother and spend time with her.” Ellie paused, making sure to make eye contact with you. “Kind of like you only work at the store and hang out with me.” 

“That’s not true.” You gestured at her with your fork. “I have friends, Ellie. We just see each other less than we used to because they’ve all got really young kids and do that ‘mommy and me’ stuff with them.” Arching a brow, you cocked your head to the side. “And you’re a little old for tumbling classes or playtime at the park.” 

“But I could use swimming lessons.” You both laughed at that, though Ellie cut hers off only a few moments later. “No but seriously. When you took me in so that I could finish school here instead of going with Marlene, I didn’t think … I didn’t want you to just give up doing everything but …”

“Ellie, that’s not what happened.” You got up, moving to the other side of the table and sitting down next to her. “Your mom and Marlene and I were all really close, and after … after Anna was gone, I was more than happy to help Marlene out with you.” You squeezed her arm, leaning in. “I was the one that suggested you staying here, El. Your mom grew up here, and I wanted you to do the same. I didn’t want you having to uproot yourself every eight months for Marlene’s job. I love having you here. I didn’t give up anything.” 

She looked up then, meeting your eyes, and you saw uncertainty in them, though it was accompanied by relief. “I know. I just … it feels like everyone always leaves, and I’m afraid that you’re going to realize that you don’t want to do this with me anymore, and -”

“Ellie, you’ll be 18 next year and off to college. If anyone’s going to leave it’s you.” Taking a deep breath, you held your arms out to her. “I’m not going to leave you, kiddo. I promise.” She hugged you hard, but it didn’t last long, Ellie pulling away to look directly at you again. 

“This still doesn’t change the fact that you and Joel should … see what happens.” She blinked a few times, her expression changing into the same ‘take no shit’ look that you’d seen on it countless times before. “We’ve noticed how you look at him. And he -”

“He and I are going to the party together next Friday, Ellie.” Settling back into your chair, you drummed your fingers on the table. “He told me tonight that since you and Sarah are such good friends, it makes sense that we get to know each other, too.” She frowned at your words, but didn’t say anything. “It’s just a couple hours. It’ll be … fine.” 

“He said that? That’s not what we …” She shook her head, setting her fork down. “I’m done. Can I be excused? Do you need help cleaning up?” You told her to go, eyeing Ellie as she headed into the kitchen, plate in hand. You were used to her changes in mood, but that night was different, Ellie almost disappointed in your reaction to agreeing to go out with Joel, even though she’d orchestrated it. Returning to your side of the table, you finished your dinner, the sound of Ellie’s voice from the other room audible, though you couldn’t hear what she was saying. 

She went upstairs a few minutes later, and you followed, deciding to get ready for bed, even though it was early. I’ll put on pajamas and watch a movie or something. Maybe have a glass of - You were interrupted by the vibration of your phone, an unfamiliar number on the screen. 

“Hello?” Standing in front of your bedroom window, you held it to your ear. “This is -”

“It’s Joel.” Your eyes widened when he spoke, the man’s voice even deeper through the phone than it was in person. “I hate texting, so I thought I’d call.” You weren’t surprised, a quiet laugh escaping you before you were able to stop it. Fitting. “I was just informed by my daughter that I didn’t exactly explain myself well earlier.”

“What?” You didn’t understand - and then you groaned, covering your face with your hand. “Ellie. Ellie called Sarah and told her what we … Joel, I’m so sorry. Ellie and I talked while we ate, and I don’t want you to think that I was just complaining or -”

“You misunderstood what I was sayin’ before. Outside? When we were talking?” He cleared his throat and then continued. “You and I should be friends because of Ellie an’ Sarah. But that’s not why I agreed to go next week.” He paused, giving the shock you felt a chance to settle in your stomach. Why then? “I meant it when I said I wanted to get to know you.” 

That conversation was more in line with what you’d imagined Joel asking you out to be like, and despite your apprehension, you felt yourself relax slightly at his words. “I’d like to get to know you too, Joel.” Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “Sarah’s said some really good things about you.” 

“Ellie’s done the same about you when she’s been over.” He laughed - and you did, too, the tension entirely broken. “We’re going to watch a move, though, and she’s yellin’ up the steps at me, so I’ve gotta go.” He said your name then, the sound quiet - though his tone was certain. “When do you work next?” 

“Monday. I close. Why?” 

“No reason.” He hummed, and you heard another voice on Joel’s end of the line, the sound of Sarah shouting for him filling up the background. “I’ll talk to you later. Have a good night?” 

You assured him you would, and when you’d both hung up, you spent a few seconds staring at the darkened screen, unsure of what to think. 

— 

Monday night, you were getting ready to close the store and count down the drawer when the door opened, the sound of footsteps drawing your attention. “Hi, and welcome to Firefl- Joel? What are you doing here? Something wrong with those strings?” 

“Strings’re fine.” He stepped up to the counter and you couldn’t help looking him over - the man’s upper body encased in a long-sleeved shirt, both sleeves pushed up to expose his forearms. “I came to see you.” 

You were shocked. The day hadn’t exactly gone smoothly, and you were almost desperate to get out of the store and home. But not at the expense of whatever this is. “Me? Why? Is Sarah -”

“Sarah’s fine, too. She’s at soccer practice.” He glanced down at his watch, nodding. “I gotta go and pick her up in about twenty minutes.” That meant that whatever he was doing in your store wouldn’t take long, which confused you even more. “I have somethin’ for you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small envelope, sliding it across the counter. “Here.” 

You picked it up and thumbed it open, unsure of what to expect. And when you saw the contents, you actually laughed, looking up from what you held and at Joel’s face, the man’s lips set into a lopsided smile. “You took like … half a coffee from me one time, Joel. You didn’t need to …” Flipping the gift card back and forth between your fingers, you sighed. “Thank you.” You meant it, reaching over with your free hand to squeeze the one he’d let settle on the countertop. “I’ll definitely use it.” 

He looked down at the same time you did, your inhale sharp when you saw your joined hands. Oh, shit. I didn’t … “You’re welcome.” Joel cleared his throat, looking back up at you through his eyelashes. “Gift card was just an excuse, though. There’s…” He straightened up again and then pulled his hand back, reaching up with it to rub at the back of his neck. “Shit, I’m bad at this.” 

“Bad at what?” Sliding the card back into the envelope, you leaned over to tuck it into the space next to the register. “What are you -”

“Sarah and Ellie mighta been responsible for the other night, but …” He wet his lips, Joel’s jaw twitching before he continued. “She was right when she said I’ve only got one project right now, because we just finished another big one.” You’d heard Sarah mention that he’d been working long hours, but she hadn’t gone into much detail. “The company we did the work for is … real happy with the outcome, and they’re …” He cleared his throat. “They’re havin’ a Christmas party next Saturday, and we’re invited. I was just gonna go with Tommy, because I figured even though it’s a holiday, it’s still a good time for networkin’, but…” 

“But what?” You tucked the gift card back in the envelope and then slid it toward the register, tilting your head. “Joel?” 

He looked away, eyes wandering over the assortment of instruments and equipment on display throughout the store before they landed back on you. He was apprehensive - you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. What is going on? “Would you have any interest in goin’ with me?” 

“To the party?” He nodded. “Next Saturday?” He nodded again, but all you could do was stare at him in shock, trying to comprehend his words. Going together to the Chamber party was one thing - you and Joel were both well known throughout the community, and the two of you spending time together wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. But at a function for his job? Where he’d be the only one I really know? That’s… “As a favor? Just so you don’t have to -”

“No. As a date.” He swallowed hard after he’d spoken, his eyes widening slightly. “My date.” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? We’ve never spent -”

“I don’t know yet.” His smile widened, Joel shrugging. “But I’m still asking.” 

You laughed, the sound nervous. “I only work until 3. What time would I need to be ready?”

“I can pick you up around six?” He swiped a hand over his beard, nodding. “Take us about a half hour to get there.” Taking someone to a holiday party as a date says something. And we’ve never … he’s asking me to … shit. “Before you agree, though…” Joel took a deep breath, his voice steadier. “The project we worked on is a new hotel up near Lake Travis. And they’re openin’ the rooms to people that night.” So it’s an overnight thing? “If you say yes, I’m more than happy to drive back.” 

“Would we have two rooms?” Your heartbeat elevated, you eyed him with interest. “Or two beds, at least?”

“Two rooms. They offered a room to me an’ Tommy each, so if you come with me, you’d have one of them to yourself.” He held up a hand, shaking his head back and forth. “I’m not expectin’ anything, I just -”

“Yes.” You nodded, absolutely certain in your decision. “I’d like to go with you, Joel.” He looked surprised, his lips parting, though he didn’t speak. “Is there a dress code?” 

“Yeah. There is.” He pressed his lips together and then frowned. “Festive.” You burst out laughing at that, covering your eyes with your hands. “Why are you laughing?”

“Festive can mean anything from an ugly sweater to red and green but formal, and -”

“The hell if I’m wearin’ that.” He snorted, and then started laughing, too. “The invitation wasn’t real clear, so…”

“Festive probably means cocktail attire, Joel, but with a holiday twist that isn’t as formal.” You shrugged. “But that works for me. I’ve got a few things that will fit that requirement.” And so do the stores. “Um.” Blowing out a breath, you tried to compose yourself. “Are … does Sarah know you’re asking?”

“No.” He shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip. “She knows I’m goin’, but not about this.” So I won’t tell Ellie. Got it. “Those little shits intervened with me asking you to the other party, but not this one.” Biting back another laugh, you nodded in agreement. 

“They’re going to figure it out.” Narrowing your eyes, you leaned in. “When we’re both getting ready and then gone next Saturday night, and -”

“Yep.” He nodded, the expression on his face serious, though the look in his eyes was anything but. “But at least we won’t have to listen to ‘em all week beforehand.” You laughed again, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna go, though. I don’t want to be late picking her up.” 

You nodded, lifting your hand and waving - not trusting yourself to speak. But when he reached the door and turned his head to look back at you from over his shoulder, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Joel?” He hummed, arching a brow. “I’m looking forward to next weekend.” 

He smiled - a broad, genuine one - and reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Me too.”

---

Part 2

[scyllas-revenge]

Hope you're doing OK Scylla :D Was thinking about BLCI today (as you do) and no pressure on the next chapter at all but do you have any snippets to share? No worries if not! Also I think I saw that you love Persuasion? *ignores existence of the 2022 version!!!* Thought I'd share that there is a recent Eomer/OFC fic being adapted from Persuasion and put it on your radar if you hadn't seen it...its off to a great start :D

pHORSEuasion: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55817617/chapters/147845338

XOXO

Thanks for the ask! And omg yes Persuasion is THE yearning book. The Netflix version took ten years off my life. Luckily we have the 90s one and the 2007 one to enjoy instead.

Given my love of Persuasion, and Eomer, and puns, I definitely have that fic on my radar! I'm hoping I'll have time to start it in the next week or two!

As far as BLCI goes, I've been making progress! Now I just have to work out whether what I thought was going to be one chapter should be divided into two or three (it's really gotten away from me lol).

But you asked for snippets! And I shall deliver! Snippets abound!!

Or at least, one big snippet abounds!

Probably way too long to be a snippet, but I'm excited to post the damn thing. Hopefully it'll be another two weeks or so before Ch. 34 is done!

Ch. 34 snippet <3

“I should call you Lord Boromir, shouldn’t I?”

He paused, looking startled at the thought. “No. I would not wish that.”

“But I should, shouldn’t I? Everyone else does—hell, the guards outside the gate called you Steward-Prince—”

“You have long been aware of my station and my family, that I command Gondor’s armies and am the Steward’s heir besides.”

“Yes, but it’s different being here, seeing you like this,” I protested. “I probably should’ve been addressing you differently this whole time, my lord—”

Anger flashed across his face. “Do not address me so! Valar, such words sit ill on your lips.”

His eyes had fallen intently to my lips as he spoke, and I dropped my gaze to my boots, flustered. “It’s not like I want to be so formal either, but what will your people think?” I asked. I wasn’t even sure what they’d think, exactly, but it couldn’t be good. “What will your father think?”

Boromir pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed an impatient sigh. “Yes, you speak truly. It would be—selfish of me, to demand such impropriety of you.”

“I don’t need to call you Lord when we’re alone. Just—just in public.”

He smiled joylessly and tilted his head up to the sky. “A more diplomatic concession I cannot not hope to make, it seems.”

“And how should I address your father? Does a steward warrant a higher title than lord?”

“No, for the line of stewards is not royalty. Lord or Lord Steward shall suffice, though I must warn you that such formalities will hardly be optional with my father.”

That, at least, was obvious, but I supposed after my disastrous interactions with Theoden, he’d felt the need to remind me.

“I should also warn you—” He hesitated. “Speak naught but the truth to my father.”

“I was hardly planning on lying to him,” I protested, more than a little offended now.

Boromir raised his hands placatingly. “Of course not. I only wished to caution you, for he will know at once if you do otherwise. He has a—an affinity for such things.”

“An affinity for what, reading minds?” I was joking, but Boromir only nodded gravely. “You can’t be serious,” I exclaimed.

“Both my father and brother share a talent for gleaning men’s thoughts. It can be an…overwhelming experience, my soldiers have told me.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

[girlfailurefelix]

what gave you the idea for borrowed time? did you have any other plans for it? (aka yap about it all you want)

so actually! i had been thinking about it conceptually for like two weeks before i wrote any of it (i was complaining to my sib about it cuz i was embarrassed to write since i hadn’t since i was a preteen/young teen lol) and it just drove me absolutely nuts cuz i couldn’t stop thinking about it at work.

just gonna establish now since it gets confusing: greg ≠ gregory. i treat them as two different characters in the same body. so i will not use them interchangeably on this ask, just like i don’t in my fic

cut because i am going to YAP

i wrote chapter one as an attempt to stop myself from thinking about it further (i was originally going to kill tony off and have it be a oneshot, either post-pizzaplex escape much like security breach’s bad ending c̶u̶z̶ ̶s̶o̶u̶l̶m̶a̶t̶i̶s̶m̶ or have him end up getting chased to the fire escape and yk, you can fill in the blank on that one. blah blah blah insert something here about tony’s very interesting, incredibly weird intro in the book. i’m still trying to figure that one out cuz other themes in the book [the celtic stuff specifically. this is a huge thing for me and i can go off about how it’s used in the book, but that’s for another post if yall want that] make that interesting if we didn’t know how ggy kills from the therapist tapes. actually, even though you can’t see it, this is how he dies in my cotard’s solution animatic. the knife in it wasn’t for killing him lol, his ass went off the roof [hence “i wanna make my murder look like a suicide”], but now i’m getting sidetracked). but one thing led to another and i wrote chapter 6 and the epilogue.

Chapter 4 was my last written chapter (hence why i don’t bother uploading individual chapters and just drop whole stories at once) if you don’t count editing several parts of chapter 1 (small tweaks for clarity purposes, not huge minus what i mentioned above. debated making this one two chapters but ended up keeping them together as a big one cuz it didn’t make as much sense when split up) and chapter 5 (i originally wrote the car ride to the pizzaplex cuz i thought it would be funny to make tony flip a tit and go hellaciously slow with the fear that he’d get pulled over cuz yk. twelve. but i figured it was too boring and discarded it).

the original title was actually a different song name. (super embarrassing but it was a hollywood undead song -another way out. i might use this later for a different, more fitting fic- cuz it helped me come up with a lot of the smaller details within chapter 1)

i did name it after the song from the death note musical cuz it can be interpreted about being about both tony and gregory. i meant it about gregory personally cuz at the end he quite literally is living on borrowed time (since tony’s death is the reason he’s able to get away from vanny. very remisa.), but tony is too throughout the entire fic, since obviously it’s an extension of his original implied lifespan (you’re welcome, you little shit.) and also cuz he’s putting up with (and being worn down by) greg’s shit the entire time in order to save gregory, even at the risk of his own safety, and i think that lines up really well too.

the chapters also all had individual names but too many were deathnote so i got embarrassed (og title of chapter 4 was the game begins lol, which is why the last sentence of chapter 3 was what it was)

color was SOOOO important. like the names i used were incredibly specific. i really wanted to emphasize how dead greg’s eyes are vs gregory, also how tony was losing steam cuz yk. traumatizing.

i based tony’s mom on mine lol. and she and my sib picked up on that immediately after they both read it (i didn’t have a beta cuz i didn’t take criticism or editing, but i did let them read it immediately) i know she doesn’t check on tony in the book when he sneaks out, but i figured that’s her giving him space, and i loveeeee projecting so that was reflected in the mom parts. mother’s instinct and all that. she totally knew greg was weird after the first night, he wasn’t just bullshitting on that part, but again, space (and yet another projection from a specific experience of my own).

greg. let’s fucking talk about greg. FIRST, he was gonna kill tony’s ass the whole time, despite chapter 4’s events. that was him being manipulative because i just don’t think greg *wouldn’t* notice tony’s behavior. as i wrote, he’s NOT subtle, even in actual canon. he meant what he said when he called him useful, and he certainly didn’t like feeling rejected, but don’t let him fool you, he doesn’t actually like tony. tony actually mentions this in chapter 2 as a possibility and much like his instincts in the actual book, he was right. it was just about dragging it out to make it worse on tony and getting something out of him as a bonus. i like to think of him as building on gregory’s original personality cuz virus, so he’s not that different, but he’s like,, worse if that makes sense. like the worst parts of gregory, amplified. with some killing, yk.

speaking of tony guessing, he was absolutely BULLSHITTING with the greg vs gregory shit. denial is not just a river, he just happened to be right. cuz seriously, he was two seconds from cracking anyway, i mean little dude is SO traumatized, especially at this point.

so gregory. he was able to communicate when half asleep cuz i think that greg/the actual virus would want him to experience the nightmares and such (agony continuing to feed the virus. yk. fnaf shit) to keep him in line. so this is the small window of opportunity he would have to even be a person, much less attempt to save himself. he’s miserable in this state though cuz tired and unable to be fully awake lol. also he can see everything greg does, hence knowing tony and trusting him, but he can’t really do anything about it. he’s always present though.

ellis wasn’t in this besides mentions because of multiple reasons. 1, i wanted to make it clear how much greg was isolating him. like that’s on purpose. 2, it would’ve gotten too convoluted to have tony protecting both of them in this specific case. and 3, i knew i wanted it to loop to security breach, so ellis would’ve interfered with that unless i killed him off. regardless of the fact that i personally see him dying in addition to tony as the canon post-ggy events [cuz let’s be real, regardless of if he believed it, he read tony’s paper. that’s a loose end and a disaster for greg waiting to happen. i don’t think he would risk it, especially since tony’s immediate disappearance would be sus as fuck.], i didn’t feel like killing him off needlessly.

so i actually sobbed after re-reading the end. giggled and kicked my feet about how awful it would be while writing it, but rest assured, it kicked my ass after. like to the point that i considered scrapping it and letting them get out safe (which is where the AU with Sunlight on Your Skin came in), but i knew this was the proper ending for both of them. greg ended up getting his way in the most fucked up way (tony was useful.) but also failing in the same breath, tony got to save gregory (giving him a far more satisfying character arc than his original, meaningless death. also fulfilling the void left by the guilt from not being able to help his dad’s fate), and gregory got saved, even if it was a hollow, tragic “victory” for him.

also i originally was going to have greg fatally wound tony as he won the game, but i wanted to bring in vanny (cuz of the “friends” comment from the beginning and it being brought up again by greg in one of the middle chapters) cuz A) i love my wife and B) it felt /too/ sad and angsty to the point of overkill (no pun intended)

oh. and gregory does actually like tony back, he wasn’t just saying it cuz wanting to escape and then him dying. just so we’re all aware. maybe not at that point as much as tony does (and not as much as he does in sunlight on your skin’s au continuation, cuz actually actively getting to be himself would help.), but it would’ve worked out if tony didn’t yk, kick the bucket. sorry if that makes his death worse.

[omegasmileyface]

The Foleys' Incredible Crisis

Chapter 1: Call It Stormy Monday

Call It Stormy Monday (But Tuesday Is Just as Bad) was written and performed in 1947 by T-Bone Walker. It is one of the most popular Blues songs ever, and has been performed and reiterated by countless other musicians. It has been credited with inspiring B.B. King to take up electric guitar, and it is included in the Library of Congress.

Happy Invisobang!!! This should have been posted earlier in the week but I couldn't make myself get to the computer to finalize/format it. Hehe. This year I had the INCREDIBLE experience of working with Shadow and Sharks, who were such wonderful artists— they have a whole smörgåsbord of art to please your eyes in this story! They have kept me on my toes— as I write this, the final, collaborated illustration is still a secret to me 👀 Lola is an OC I named once I realized Tucker absolutely feels like he has a little sister. Since then she's been in my heart and I can't let her go. My wonderful girl Lola. It's a treat whenever I get to see her in the wild— I almost had a heart attack when she appeared in Lex Luthor's Ascent from Supervillainy to Fatherhood by halfagone!

For a directory of all currently posted chapters and related content, check out the Table of Contents!

fic summary: After a whole week of vacation stuck together, the Foleys were more than happy to have some time apart. So when they each found themselves caught up in ghost business, that meant handling it alone. Angela wasn't planning on improvising a ghost conspiracy, Maurice was hoping to avoid working IT, Lola didn't think playing a hero would take her out of school, and Tucker would really have liked to focus on his own problems. But, really, what else did they expect from Amity Park? Home, sweet home.

words: 2269

AO3 link

next chapter [pending]

Tucker dropped his bag with a thunk. He was far beyond caring to be delicate, despite the electronics inside— he just wanted to shed his shoes and jacket and maybe the memories of the trip along with them.

"Ohhhh-kay," said his mom, grimacing at the trash can. Nobody had thought to empty it before they left. "What a vacation!" She laughed emptily. "I'm going to bed. You can fend for yourselves for dinner."

Tucker's dad popped back out from behind the bathroom door. "Before you go," he called over the rush of the faucet, "can we all just agree? Real quick, get in the den and then we can all ignore each other."

Lola sighed loudly and gave up untying her shoe, just kicking it off. Tucker agreed. He couldn't wait to wash his hands after the long trip.

His dad dried off his hands and joined them in the den, looking each of his family members in the eyes one by one. "I propose we never talk about this trip unless we have to."

Everyone agreed with as much fervor as they could muster after the fraught day.

"Also," said Lola, "I think we should try not to talk to each other for a whole day."

"Works for me," said Tucker.

His mom yawned. "Much as I love you all, I'm good with a day pretending you don't exist. Tucker, can you walk with Lola to and from school tomorrow?"

He looked at his little sister. She shrugged.

"As long as she plays nice, yeah."

His dad clapped. "Cool. Alright. So, unless one of us needs something, we all mind our own business tomorrow? Okay. I'm gonna order a pizza, and... I'll sleep in the guest room tonight. Pleasure doin' business with you all."

Tucker closed his eyes and sighed, pleased at imagining taking a shower and sleeping in his own bed in a few hours.

They had just wanted to see family in Chicago. What a disaster.

The library was quiet when Angela Foley came in. That made sense, she worked weekday mornings, so they usually only saw adults and the rare preschooler. As much as she liked helping the spread of knowledge, it was nice not to have too much to do at the front desk. Maybe she could get a crossword puzzle or two done.

She had made it about halfway through the puzzle (Angela knew a lot of things, but wordplay was never her specialty. What on Earth was she supposed to get from "gift for a blue lady"?) before someone walked in, paused, and went straight for the front desk.

She put on her smile. "Hi! Can I help ya with anything?"

The man was tall, wearing a clean white button-up shirt and jeans. His brassy skin and black hair caught strangely in the fluorescent lights, turning almost orange at their edges. She was pretty sure he was a ghost in disguise, but she had helped ghosts before. Usually, if one was asking for help using a library, they weren't intent on doing anything violent.

Usually. She still reserved a little caution.

"Yes, I'm looking for information on a very distant place. Where might I find something like that?"

"Well, what place is it?"

"It's called An Aghaidh Mhòr."

Angela blinked at the unfamiliar sounds. "I'm not familiar. Is that... Gaelic?"

The man fiddled with his sleeves. "Scottish, I believe, yes."

"Alright." Angela stood up and moved toward the computer monitor at the desk by the door. "I'm going to check in our catalog for books on Scotland."

The man watched silently as she searched. Angela hummed. "It looks like, in house, the only books we have on Scotland are travel guides covering the whole of the UK or Europe. I don't expect they'd have many details on smaller places— well, I'm assuming An Aghaidh Mhòr is small, since I haven't heard of it. If you'd like, you can check anyway, or I can contact another library in the system, and they can send over some more specialized books, but that might take a few days."

The man said nothing, but his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Angela recognized the face of a person with a wide, potent array of bad options.

"Or, if you're more pressed for time, we do have a few computers and Internet access here. I can help you find some web sites that might have what you're looking for."

"And this wouldn't take any longer than looking through a book?"

Angela smiled and headed toward the public computers. "Faster, even, if you know what you're doing. I can help you if you've never done it before."

They began their search, and the man caught on quickly to what Angela was doing and how. She helped him for a while, long enough to find out that An Aghaidh Mhòr was a place in the woody North of Scotland, usually called Aviemore, and was something of a tourist destination. Beyond that, she left him to do his own research and went back to her crossword.

She just had a pesky few clues left when the man started muttering curses in another language and walked back over to her desk.

With panicked eyes, he said "I have to be honest. What I'm looking for is, ah… evidence that An Aghaidh Mhòr has an open community of ghosts alongside its humans. I'm certain that it once did, and I know that it still must. But I have chased every tail of information I could find that led to pages on the computer, and none of them, regardless of detail or experience with the town, has mentioned it."

He looked down and seemed to weigh something in his head. "It must be some sort of secret. Whether to protect the ghosts or to protect themselves from ridicule, the living people of An Aghaidh Mhòr have hidden their ghost society. You have to help me find it."

The little hairs on Angela's body all stood up. Warning bells were going off in her head. There was nothing to do but remain calm. "If that's the case, I don't know about anything like that. I can send out a question to my colleagues to see if they know anything, but I'm afraid I can't–"

"No!" The man swung out a hand, and the inner doors swung shut, silvery light weaving across them like fishing nets to keep them in place. The lights dimmed and his skin faded to a deep, fiery orange, layered and complex like agate. His eyes glowed like the moon. The few library guests gasped and looked at him in shock.

"You are a keeper of information, from a city with a striking connection to ghosts. I need to know the truth about ghostly An Aghaidh Mhòr, and you must help me find it." His silver eyes were full of fear, but Angela couldn't bring herself to care how the ghost who just trapped and threatened her was feeling.

She had to think fast to get out of this safely. Something to keep his hopes up…

"Fine. Fine." Angela held up her hands. "I'm not confident in my own grasp of the situation, but I do know of some secrets like the one you're talking about. It'll take some time– say, a couple hours– to put together anything meaningful, and I'll need to call in an expert, but I can do it. I will do it."

She could only hope her friends were any good at improv.

Maurice was never one for early mornings, but he always made the best of his hour alone after the kids went off to school and Angela's shift started. That was his time to make coffee and goof around. He could prance around the kitchen in ways that would make Tucker gag if he were there, and as long as he couldn't see his neighbors, he could put them out of mind enough to sing as loud as he wanted.

Before work was the blues hour. Today he put on Lucille. Whole album, on tape, from the top.

If anybody asked why he started his days with the blues, he'd probably say something about the sad lyrics reminding him how lucky he was. How no matter how embarrassing the family vacations or boring the work or sleazy the boss, he still had a clean house around him and a faithful wife beside him.

In reality, though, he mostly just liked the beat.

Once he got into work, it was just the same as ever. Double-entries and journalizing. He didn't even get to mix up which accounts he dealt with. VLADCO was too big for that. It was Accounts Receivable, 140-180, day after day.

But at least it wasn't IT.

Then, after almost an hour of swimming through "Axiom Labs, Ltd. $1,300 Debit" and "Hey, Maurice, how was the weekend?" and "Nugreen Ectosuppliers, LLC $400 Credit" and "You get that last letter? Crazy what Masters is trying these days, yeah?", everything went dark.

(Or, at least darker than usual. The grainy white of every surface in the office never lent itself to anything deeper than a cloudy grey.)

After a few seconds of quiet shock, the lights came back. Now, however, there was a ghost floating in front of the door connecting the Finances and Supplies department to the rest of the facility.

He seemed to be well-muscled and of average height, though it was hard to tell exactly what a ghost looked like when they were putting off that much of an aura. His skin was dark green and rough-looking, like bark, and there was a reddish halo around his head like some sort of spectral hair. His blood-moon eyes looked over everyone in the room individually before anyone dared speak. Finally, he opened his mouth.

"This is the center of a company that arms humans againsts ghosts and similar threats. Yes?"

Shocked, a few people nodded.

"And you are all from the department keeping stock of supplies. I do not know where your weapons are kept, but I know that you do. Someone in here will retrieve them for me. I need them, if I am to bring my people, ghosts and humans, together again."

The tension finally broke the membrane freezing time, and several office workers started to move for phones.

"Don't bother trying to get help. I have severed all the lines of communication between you and the world outside this office. I will leave you alone, as soon as someone leads me to the armory."

Maurice glanced at the little LCD display on the phone on his desk. No signal. His computer, too, had nothing when he clicked over to the Internet settings.

No one said anything. Some kept trying with their phones, but not a single person offered to explain how scant and useless the actual in-house ecto-equipment supply was or show the path to it. Maurice imagined they were all thinking the same thing he was; yes, complying was generally the way to stay safe in a hostage situation, and panic was strong, but a ghost coming into town and getting their hands on even just half-assembled ecto-equipment never went well. And, maybe even more importantly, VLADCO had terrifyingly strict regulations on safe ecto-tech policy. Unless the immediate threat of being personally hurt for information increased, the consequences in the long run were the biggest monster here.

The ghost crossed his arms. "Fine. You have one hour to bring me to the weapons. I can wait. I have waited this long. If you take any longer, or if you attempt any trickery, then I will start going through with threats. Until then, you may have your time to panic and fantasize about ways out that don't involve giving up company supply. I will be standing here."

He leaned against the door, and his gaze stayed rock-hard on the workers and their cubicles.

Maurice caught the eye of his most tolerable coworker Jacob. Jacob widened his eyes in some silent look of panicked questioning. Maurice shrugged. He was scared out of his mind, but what was there to do? Freaking out wouldn't do anybody any good. He could wait here and see if any ghost hunter showed up, and once they got closer to the end of the hour, everybody could meet up and decide if it was worth giving up the ecto-tech.

For now... well, he certainly wasn't going to do more accounting. This was as good an excuse for a break as any.

He toyed around on his computer for a bit, fidgeting with whatever programs he had. Maybe if the ghost noticed him, he could say he was looking for office schematics explaining where the ecto-tech was held. Really, he couldn't think to do anything but let off stress.

He played around in the rudimentary E-mail client for a bit. Mimed sending goofy messages to his coworkers while he knew he couldn't accidentally send them. But there, at the top of his inbox, was the automated morning office update. It had just come in four minutes ago... after the communications were shut off.

Was there some kind of hole in the ghost's anti-communication measure? The intercoms weren't working, and normal E-mails weren't going through, even within just Finances & Supplies. But the daily updates worked on a different system than the normal E-mails, so nobody had to send them at a consistent time each day, just queue them up.

...Was there something about the different setup that made it immune to the ghost's blackout?

Maurice got to investigating.

[sp-high-au]

OOC Info Yapping😔

Hey! Welcome to my little shitstorm of an au! Obviously I’m gonna talk about it for a little bit because I never learn when to stfu and I feel like there’s a couple of things that I need to bring up to tie the whole thing together.

So this layout is kinda new to me. Technically is a roleplay but also at the same time there’s not gonna be any interaction with other rp blogs. Y’all are more than welcome to rb for your own roleplays though. There’ll be plenty of random shitposts that can be taken out of context.

This blog is being made to mimic an old school website. Y’know the ones where there’s an interactive wall for the students to post on? Yeah that. The post on this blog are going to be a mix of three things (technically four but I don’t think my ooc/admin posts really count).

ANNOUNCEMENT POSTS: Announcement posts are going to be used in place of actual posts for a site admin. Most of the time they’re going to be for lore drops that aren’t really relevant but are kinda fun to put into the storyline. For example: a background character or a character who isn’t that relevant to the story arcs birthday.

WALL POSTS: These wall posts are supposed to be posted “by students.” Once again they’re going to be used to drop more lore crumbs because high schoolers gossip a ridiculous amount and I think it’s funny.

FIC POSTS: The final type of posts are going to be fic posts! These will be link drops to my ao3. The fics will contain the main lore/arcs. They’ll also be reblogged to my main.

This story has odd publishing schedule to say the least. There are twenty-two story arcs. The storyline itself starts September 2nd 2024 and ends June 18th 2026. Each story is also planned to be posted on an accurate date, like in real time.

One arc is equal to one month. For example Arc 1: Intro to The Losers Club, takes place throughout September. The first official fic is going to be labeled like this on any master list: 1.1: (INSERT TITLE HERE). These works will either be oneshots or multi chapters. Any multi chapter will be split into “parts” like if a multi chapter is four chapters in total and there’s only two chapter total it’ll be labeled simply like this: 2/4.

Also there are some darker themes in these stories! Firstly, it’s high school. What high schooler doesn’t have issues? Secondly, it’s South Park and that itself is pretty self explanatory. And finally, I’m fucking delusional and think it’s funny.

Speaking of me though, HI!!! If you’re a mutual on my main who’s stumbled upon this mess, yes it’s Clouded. If you don’t know know who I am you can find me at my main: @justyourtypicalwriter where I am much more active and my posts are very much unplanned, unlike this blog. It’s become a favorite project of mine in the short time I’ve been working on it though and I hope you grow to enjoy it as much as I do!

Here’s one of my many, many picrews of myself that I normally use as pfps because I have a problem and that was a lot of writing💀

BUT I’M STILL YAPPING BECAUSE YOU MAY BE ASKING:

“Oh Clouded what are the ships in this au?”

And to my rare pair lovers I say:

“You’re eatin’ good tonight bbg😘”

Because as much as a Style girlie I am, there are SO MANY absolutely amazing rare pairs that get such little recognition. I know how excited I get when I see a rare pair in a popular fic or comic so there’s some food for my fellow rare pair lovers.

SHIPS:

K2

Staig

Weidi

Tyde

Dip

Rebstella

Gregstophe

Jimmy/Nichole (what’s their ship name y’all)

There’s probably more but I can’t think of any lmao-

HAPPY READING!!!

[tamamatango]

My Project Revealed: The Fabled Fanfiction Come to Fruition

Crossing an item off the bucket list before the dopamine gods give out on me. (Yes that’s the story link in case you want to just go there and skip the whole me not shutting up part)

Back in my most active period in the Keroro fandom, I tried and failed multiple times to write a fanfic; might’ve even talked about it here at some point. But for one reason or another, it just never panned out, and I ultimately fell out of it for a few years before I managed to publish anything. However, I got back into the practice with my next hyperfixation, so now that I’ve returned to frog hell again, I knew I had to do what teenage me could not.

I can’t say this is “the fanfic I always wanted to write,” because I ended up scrapping whatever I had started all those years ago. When this started to come together in my head, it initially seemed way too ambitious given the limited time I have and where my strengths and weaknesses lie as a writer…but I got possessed by the artsy demon or something and started to write it anyway. Whoops.

To Chase a Butterfly asks one simple question: What if Kururu actually failed to save Saburo at the end of episode 229? Okay that’s not really a simple question, considering it leads to a whole emotional and physical journey about grief and companionship and space-timey shenanigans. But basically, Kururu goes “bet” and attempts to bring him back to life. Naturally, the deuteragonist of such a story is…Dororo? Yes, at the central conflict of the story is Kururu’s friendship with Saburo, but it’s Dororo who serves as his confidant/partner in crime over the course of the story, and so I consider this to double as a KuruDoro fic as well—though I will make it clear now that it’s not conclusively romantic, so you can decide if that’s the direction they go in or if it stays platonic, and it works either way.

As of the latest update from. Uh. 15 minutes ago at the time of writing, the fic currently sits at about 60-65% completion and is divided into two parts. Part 1 (chapters 1–6) is the angst/drama-heavy half, which I uploaded in full as a batch drop. Part 2 (7+) is more action/adventure, sort of in the vein of what you’d expect from one of the Keroro movies, and I am updating it chapter-by-chapter, since it was getting too unsustainable to try to dump it all at once. AO3 has the most robust features, so that’s where it’s hosted for now, but I know people have very understandable problems with that site, so I’ll consider porting it elsewhere if that’s something anyone is interested in.

Well, that’s enough yammering from me. If you like the idea, please do check it out. Things are starting to heat up as the climax approaches, especially with the introduction of a surprise third major character who very longtime Kirb fans miiiight faintly recall. And if you’re already following it—it’s been up for a while now, just waited to discuss it here to temporarily save myself from potential embarrassment—thanks for your support, and I hope you look forward to the rest! Part 2 is very research/planning heavy and has been pretty challenging to write so far, but I intend to see this all the way through damn it. And yeah, this is what’s been pulling my focus away from the blog, but there will still be posts here whenever I feel like putting energy into an essay and/or next real info drop about the new anime (BNP gimme something soon please I’m parched).

[luckyartdrawer]

Small WIP Moon fic drop

Sooo over the summer I started a new dca fic WIP (ik I shoulddd write for my other stuff but shhhhhhh-) and I'm doing a thing where I'm aiming to start posting this one until I'm either completely done or very close to done with the fic. (Because if I post right away my ass will not be able to keep them coming regularly 😔)

Rn I'm about 6 chapters of my expected 15 in! I wanna make this a pretty short story that'll still pack a bit of a punch. I got a message I wanna send >:)

I'm really feeling good about this fic, but since I'm holding back from posting the full chapters, I'll satiate my need to share by giving small tid bits from the beginning chapters. :)

TLDR:

This story is Moon centric and mostly takes place in his pov! (Sorry Sun lovers, I swear I adore that boyo too-) It's also an x reader BUT it'll be SFW and could be interpreted as platonic/queer platonic - Moon is just gonna be a really clingy attention deprived goober. o3o

If you're curious, I have 2 snippets and the story summary below the cut! Ty for reading through my yapping <3

Summary:

Moon was never one to outwardly complain about his place in life.

He had simply lost the lottery. Only out for moments at a time, too afraid to do anything wrong. He's active for so little as is, why risk losing even more time?

Moon prefers nap time. The one place where he can interact with the world calmly for a whole hour. To be a comfort rather than a tool. When everyone sleeps, he can relax, knowing he's done everything right.

Time for himself…

Now that's his favorite. But even then he cannot do much. Only in his wildest nonexistent dreams could he be truly free.

But one day, somehow… Moon actually dreamed.

Who knew how addictive a sweet dream could be?

vvvv Main Ch 1 scene vvvv

vvvv Scene depicting details about the Reader vvvv

Thank y'all for reading! This whole fic is based more on a world I created on my own, but you can definitely see influences from other things within.

The fic is so far planned to be called "Everything You've Ever Dreamed" - and if that rings a bell to you then it's likely exactly what you're thinking :)))

I don't mind if any of y'all wanna give your opinions on it. Tbh I'm not looking for criticism since this is just going to be a short story with unrealistic aspects. Plus, I just want to write something like this for my own satisfaction!

These snippets may or may not change once it comes time to finally start uploading the fic to ao3. This is still a WIP after all, I just love it so much to share it :3

(calling this fic Dreamlike and EYED for short/tags)

[clovermarigold]

Daggers & Daffodils Chap. 28

To those who are reading this on wattpad and AO3. I highly suggest checking out https://www.tumblr.com/blog/clovermarigold Which is where I post my works on Tumblr. I have extra content for my other series and may decide to do the same for this one if it garners enough interest. It is also much easier to send out announcements there, so you'll be more likely to know when new chapters will be released, what delays there are, as well as participate in polls that directly affect the plot. As a bonus, I am currently taking requests, so if you have questions about the fic, maybe want some head cannons of our favorite berserker drop on by!

think i might have outdone myself with the fluff in this one. also, BACK TO REGULAR LENGTH CHAPTERS

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

You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, eyes fliting from the number of dragon hunters guarding the edges of the ship to your friends on the deck bellow you. It was clear they had tried and failed to escape. What made the situation worse was the fact that Heather seemed to be the one to foil the plan. Beating Astrid in a one on one. Something Tuff would not be letting her live down, despite being unarmed while Heather had her axe.

The whole situation felt wrong, being betrayed by such a close friend. You couldn't help but feel a bit petty. She had been so mad at you for 'not being honest' about your relationship with Dagur, and now here she was. Aiding him in his deranged mania, capturing and selling dragons, all the while preaching about being a happy family together?

She was furious with you, and suddenly she was yours and Dagur's biggest supporter. It didn't feel right. But regardless of how it felt, what mattered now was getting of this ship. Heather had convinced Ryker to make them work on the ship, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your gut when Dagur kept you from inheriting the same punishment. The idea of special treatment felt wrong in of itself, and you would much prefer working if it meant you could see Silver Tongue. 

The ship was on lock down now. Sneaking out would be near impossible, and that wasn't even taking into account the berserker currently attached to your hip. Deranged as he may be, he was smart. He kept you on a shorter leash than you gave Scabbard on wash day. 

There was always some part of him resting on you, whether it be a hand loosely playing with your fingers, an arm casually draped over your shoulders, or you 'least favorite' his head latched onto your neck, his chin hooking over your shoulder to keep you in his arms in front of him. 

The two of you walked the ship, Dagur rambling about floral arrangements, invitations, and other wedding chores. It was clear that though security was tight, the guards were all tasked to individual prisoners, focusing on one rather than communicating with the others. In this case, dividing and conquering would be your best bet. Knowing your brother, he was no doubt formulating a plan to break you and the others free. But how long would that take?

"What do you think?" you were caught off guard by Dagur's question. Was he talking to you? Of course he was, but you weren't exactly listening, "I don't really care". Dagur's smile dropped, giving you a once over. He was thinking something, you were sure. But whatever it was, he made no comment, only pulling you in closer to his side as he sped up your pace, choosing to refocus his attention to patrolling. 

Well, that was the opposite of what you needed.... Wait. The opposite of what you needed! It would only be a matter of time until Hiccup came back with his plan of action, whatever that was, so why not make things easier for him.

"I'm sorry" he paused your pace to shoot you a shocked look, "I just... Don't feel comfortable with all these people possibly eaves dropping".

He switched to a more concerned tone, "It's only temporary, you won't have to worry about them for long" the crazed look paired with the ominous warning left you on edge. Biting the inside of your cheek you pushed down any mixed feeling you had and decided to commit to your half-baked plan.

"Personally, I would pref-" he cuts himself off when you wrap yourself around his arm. "I don't like Dragon Hunters" you state bluntly.  His opposite hand moved to rest on yours, currently wrapped around him, "We can go back to the room".

"No!" you paused, recollecting yourself, "No. I don't want to go back in that room again... I need fresh air". You shoot a glare at a hunter you catch staring. Dagur notices too, grip tightening ever so slightly.

You don't catch what it is, but Dagur must have done something, because in a matter of seconds, the hunters on the back half of the ship excuse themselves. Mission complete, with the back half completely unarmed the ships integrity would be compromised. All that was left was to keep it that way. 

A deep breath sounded from the man beside you. You knew him well enough to tell he was in thought. About what, you had no idea. But considering it was Dagur, that was probably for the best. 

You pause, thinking of what to say, "Is she happy with you?" was all you could come up with. And it was an important question in your mind. Heather had been very clear in her conflicted feelings about staying with the group. For her to do THIS was completely out of character for her, but at the very least you could get a gage of why. 

"Of course," the way he jerked his head sharply showed genuine confusion to the thought it would be anyway else. 

"I just... want to know that she's ok" not entirely untrue. You wanted her to be as well as she possibly could. So, strangling her unconscious would feel more rewarding. You mentally chastised yourself for thinking something so cruel about a friend. Then again, was she even still your friend after this. 

"Y/N", it wasn't anything new, but it always felt a bit wrong when he called you by your name. He only ever did it when he was trying to point out 'flaws' in your beliefs. Even when he said it to tease you, he did it in a way that felt like a nick name or a term of endearment. You don't like how much he's been saying it. Every time he says it the pit in your stomach feels a bit larger.

"I promise you; I will never do anything to hurt our family" it was said seriously. Something that felt foreign and uncomfortable on Dagur. Not even threatening, just a solemn oath. Granted you saw the irony in the promise, with him actively trying to kill your brother. But you suppose that was just because in Dagur's logic Hiccup wasn't a part of your 'real' family. 

It didn't excuse anything, but at least you were learning a bit more of how his insane and unruly logic worked. The fact that you were likely the one to know it best concerned you to no end. 

Not knowing how to add to the conversation and emotional bombshell that just happened, you contented yourself to tightening your grip around Dagur's arm, slightly leaning your head in as well. 

To your surprise, Dagur didn't take this as a sign or excuse to tease, make a move, or even comment on anything. Instead, he stayed silent, quietly watching the horizon. Though you did feel his thumb ever so slowly beginning to move up and down on your wrist.

It was... peaceful. Actually, now that you think about it, this might be the most calm and gentle moment you've had in months. Sun shining a warm blanket on your skin, mist cooling you in waves, and the faint sound of Dagur's heartbeat mixing with the ocean.

It made your mind wander. Back to when you were kids playing on the cliffs. Chasing each other because one of you wouldn't stop cheating. Getting tired and sleeping under trees instead of going back to the village because your parents would make you go home. Simpler times.

You didn't notice when Dagur's head had moved to rest on yours. But it didn't bother you as much as it should. Just an extra pressure, but not an uncomfortable one. Like a blanket, just heavy enough to make you feel extra safe. 

For a moment you wished time would stop. That you could stay in this moment, free from any expectation or plague of reality the world would throw at you. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, and you would be pulled from your peace in a cruel and painful way.

A howl sounded from underneath the ship. And not just any howl, you knew that sound, "Silver tongue!". Dagur was quick to try and grip your arm, unfortunately for him you were just quick enough to slip past him and run towards the hull.

"You have no idea who you're messing with!" the sound of Astrid yelling from her cell only made your blood pressure spike ten times over as you nearly leapt down the stairs. The scene of horror you were met with was more than enough to shatter any moment you thought you were having. Silver Tongue strapped down in a cell struggling harshly against three hunters as they roughly pulled the arrows from his wing and left him. 

You moved to rush them when a sharp pain emitted from your scalp. "And where do you think you're going" Ryker, "I thought you two were keeping an eye on this one". 

"A mistake on my brother's part" the sharp sting dissipated as you were traded into the much softer hands of Heather. "His wounds will get infected if you don't let me treat him" you pulled against Heathers grip to no avail. Looking back, you were met with Heathers dethatched gaze, though you could sense a faint guilt behind her steely exterior. 

"That's the buyers problem. I won't go wasting any supplies on faulty merchandise. Sides" he leaned closer to the cage, causing silver tongue to let out a low growl. "His hides already damaged beyond worth. Suppose his skeleton would make a good center piece".

"I'll kill you" Your thrashing was enough to break out from one of Heathers hands. And had you not been so quickly traded into Dagur's you may have been able to get a good swing in on the bastard, "Heh. Put her in the brig. Before I throw her in a cell". Threats aside didn't stop you from putting up a fight as you were dragged away back into that Odin forsaken room again. 

---------------------------------

"I think that little brat's growing on me" Ryker joked.

"Ryker! Rykeeee" a frown spread across Dagur's face as he felt a twitch in his eye. Oh, so he was going to call his wife a brat after insulting his sister, and him. Well, that wasn't going to happen. Damn the plan, Dagur would rip out Rykers spine for the whole fleet to see if it meant putting him in his place. 

A glare from Heather pulled him from his murderous thoughts. 'Fine. You luck out today', it was a good thing Heather was there. With the exception of you no one else could, or even really knew how to ground him. Ryker would get to live for today, but that wouldn't stop him from making... alteration to the plan, specifically ones regarding what he would do to him once everything came into focus.

 "Little side note" his smile dropped, "If you ever disrespect my wife again or so much as touch her, I won't hesitate to wear your ribcage as my battle armor". The ship went quiet as the two stood still, neither moving so much as a hair.  

For a moment, Heathers fingers brushed over her axe, waiting for a fight to break out. "Hmph, keep her out of my hair" Ryker turned with a huff.

"What hair" Dagur mumbled like a child, only for a smack to hit him upside the head. "Ow, what was that for" Dagur turned towards his sister.

"For almost screwing everything up. I want to beat Ryker too, but we can't do that until we get to Vigo" Dagur rolled his eyes. "I don't see why you're so obsessed with meeting Vigo, the guys not even that interesting. You don't have a crush, or something do you? Because he is way older than you and as your brother I absolutely forbi-" Heather shoved a hand over his mouth before he started yelling.

"No, you idiot. We need Vigo so we can get access to the Dragon hunter monopoly, then when the time is right. WE take over" a sinister look took over Dagur. "Oh, I knew you were a genius, mom would be so proud". Heather bit back an insult and hit him on the back, "Go check on Y/N. I don't doubt she's losing it"

"I don't understand why she's so upset over that overgrown lizard" Heather turned sharply to her brother, "You wouldn't get it!".

"Alright alright, touchy subject" he backed away slowly.

Stopping outside the door he could hear you pacing, gods he hated it when you were worked up like this. Don't get him wrong, it was adorable, and hot. But only when it was, he was the one to work you up. Not Ryker.

knocking lightly, your pacing stopped. "My love" he opened the door carefully, stepping in. "I know you're upset so I thought we coul-" A fist collided square with his nose sending him stumbling back.

 ---------------------------------

You were angry. No, that would be an understatement, you were livid. So naturally the first thing you would do upon having anyone dare to enter your space would be to knock them as hard as you could in the nose. Your dad always said you had a nasty right hook.

It didn't surprise you when it was Dagur, honestly, who else was it supposed to be. That didn't cause you to feel any twisted form of guilt like it usually would. No, if anything you wanted to do it again.

"Wow!" Dagur said shocked clutching his nose, which was now bleeding, "If you don't give me my dragon I swear I'll rip you're damn head off!".

Dagur nodded still clutching his nose with wide eyes, "ok ok.... You're very pretty right now, can I kiss you?". You raised your hand to hit him again, though this time he was prepared, swift to dodge, "Ok I get it. I'll get the overgrown lizard some medicine or something".

"I mean it, Dagur. Real medical attention" he put his hands up assuring you repeatedly. 

"Have you been working you because I think I can smell colors" taking a deep breath you have him a once over. Damn it, did you give this man a concussion?

"Sit on the bed" obediently, without so much a word of argument, Dagur listened. Lifting his chin up you checked his eyes, making him track your finger. ok, visual awareness seems fine. You snaped in his right ear, "Ow, what was that for?".

"Good, you can hear fine. You're being dramatic, you're fine". You moved away from him. How had things been so fast to go to hell. One moment you were having the most relaxing rest of your life. The next you were angrier than you had ever been in your life.

"You know, you're getting a lot better at this" you turned to the idiot in question, "Hitting you?".

"No, acting like... you" you raised a brow. "Actually, expressing yourself. A month ago, you wouldn't even yell at me beyond 'you're delusional, I'm never gonna marry you, Dagur', " he said in a terrible mock imitation of your voice, "Now, you're actually dealing with the real problem".

"The real problem? My problem is that you can't help but ruin my life!" you scream. "THERE! Right there! You're actually learning to speak your mind. Not the rehearsed argument you tell yourself to sleep at night, your actual thoughts" he laughed.

"You're insane" you groan in irritation and half disgust, "Ok. bit of a step backwards but some of that is you".

"Can you shut up" Dagur, to your relief, did stop talking.

Gods, even when he's not talking it's like you can hear voices in your head yelling at you. Wait.... no. Those aren't in your head. "Dragon riders!". Hiccup!

"Stay down here" Dagur shot up, slamming the door behind him, the sound of a lock sliding into place confirming your suspicions. 

You hadn't been successful in managing to make his plan easier, so you would have to hope his plan would work. A scratching at the door grabbed your attention, followed by a small spark of fire through the crack underneath, "Scabbard! Good girl".

She let out a pleased chirp at your praise. "Ok, pleeeeease find a way to understand me and slide the lock open" silence. "I will give you all the fish if you unlock this door", nothing. "I will give you all of Silver Tongue's fish if you open this door" the metal bar rang as it hit the floor.

"You little con artist" Scabbard shot up off the ground, purring as she nuzzled herself in a vise grip around your neck. "I know, I know, no more privacy when I get home huh".

Sneaking upwards you were relieved to see the hunters were preoccupied with Hiccup and Snotlout in the air, allowing you to get into the hull where your friends were already making their escape.

Granted they were still dealing with the few dragon hunters downstairs with you. You trusted them to be able to handle them, your priority was Silver Tongue. Quickly, you slid past and ran to his cell, cutting the ropes as fast as you could. It wasn't clear if the hunters had done it, or if it had been Silver Tongue while trying to free himself, but he was covered in small cuts and scratches, bruising covering underneath his second left wing. 

"It's ok, were going to get you home, and clean you up" he let out a low pathetic growl and huff, he was exhausted, sorry Scabbard but you weren't getting any of his fish.

"Y/N!" Astrid called. "I'm coming. Come on buddy, you got this". Carefully, he pushed off the ground, launching up through the open hatch in the ship Storm fly had blasted open. 

Dagur was right, you had gotten better expressing your anger. And with Thor as your witness Ryker was going to learn just how much anger you had.

---------------------------------

thank you for reading!!! A longer chapter to make up for the wait. Thank you to everyone who has been commenting, I read every single one.

ps. no proofread on this one so sorry for spelling and grammar errors

Taglist

~~~~

@demogorgon-master1

@mj-jabami

@alicee-carter

@amearla

@milenaester14

[sunbadger]

Mini detectives / Chapter 1

Next chapter Read on AO3 Rating: General audiences, no warnings apply Relationships: Levi/Erwin, Gabi & Falco Tags: Attack on titan spoilers, post-rumbling, Erwin is still dead, slice of life, mystery solving, a little bit of comedy.

Summary: There is an unsuspecting, wooden urn on Levi's shelf. Since it's incredibly rude to ask him about it, Gabi and Falco instead decide to investigate to find out who it belongs to, and why the flowers in the vase next to it change every week. First they stalk Levi, then they search his whole house, then finally go through all of his personal belongings. It's an ethical operation lead by detectives Gabi and Falco! Background that may be helpful: - This is set post-rumbling and Erwin is still dead. - I believe Erwin is the only body that Levi really had access to after they died, so this urn is incredibly special to him. - Gabi and Falco are around 14 - Levi's got his own little cottage and a tea shop.

Rest of the fic under the cut, it's 1600 words.

The wooden box on Levi’s bookshelf had always stood out to Gabi. The feathers of her duster brushed against it each week, tracing the chiselled lid and the space around it. On its own, it would easily be overlooked due to the lack of decorations and details - only naturally decorated with the wood's marbled pattern. What truly made it interesting were the constantly changing flowers in the vase next to it.

Every week, Gabi would come over to clean, and every week there was a new set of flowers. Her nimble hands turned the box left and right, tilted it back ever so slightly to check the bottom, and forward to see the top - but alas, there was no name, nothing engraved, and no indicator of what it was. After finishing his work elsewhere, Falco put a stool down in front of the shelf. He glanced at her.

“I think that’s an urn, Gabi,” he said, “you shouldn’t be touching it.” Gabi pouted.

“I'm just trying to find a name on it.” She put the urn back in its intended spot. “I wanna know who Levi’s lover was.”

“Lover?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, touching the vase. This week’s flowers had petals as deep and blue as the ocean.

“Well… flowers are used for anyone,” Falco said, “and Levi doesn’t seem to be very popular, to be honest.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she sighed. Falco climbed the stool to reach the top of the bookshelf to wipe it with the soaked towel in his hand.

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Gabi’s jaw dropped.

“You can’t just ask about dead people like that!” She exclaimed. “What if he, like, starts crying?” Falco shrugged.

“Maybe he’ll be happy to talk about them, since he clearly cares about them so much.”

“You go ask, then!”

“I could, but…” His mind drifted.

“Why are you asking about my dead friends, huh? You thought that would make me happy? Mind your own business, brat.”

Falco shivered. “B-Besides, you’re the one that’s curious.” Gabi glared at him. “Okay, maybe I am a little bit curious.” He stepped down from the stool. “But I don’t want to ask.”

“Let’s continue cleaning for now, and we’ll figure out a plan later, alright?”

“A …plan?” She nodded, gave him a thumbs-up, and brushed past him towards the kitchen where more cleaning duties awaited her.

Falco was nearly crushed into the dirt as Gabi leant over him, trying to get a better view between the leaves. The fedora that Jean had leant him for the day was already smudged with dirt and his coat threatened to rip from the thorns of the forest they had walked through. He would probably have to “lose” the suit and hope Jean forgets about it once the mission was over.

“The target has approached the destination!” Gabi bursted out. “We will observe closely before making our first move!” Falco crawled his way towards an opening in the bush. Just like Gabi had reported, Levi’s familiar figure was currently making its way down the plaza. They had done a thorough analysis on his schedule and deduced that he would be most likely to visit the flower shop on Fridays at 5 pm, one hour after closing his shop. A small miscalculation meant they had actually been waiting in the dirty bushes of a hill for 30 minutes too many, but otherwise, it was a perfectly executed plan. 

The hill allowed them to have a great overview of the whole street, and the leafage surrounding them provided cover. Falco had expressed doubts that Levi would be on the lookout for small kids in bushes, but Gabi brushed him off. Her eyes shined as they fixated entirely on the target, suspensefully watching to continue the mission. Falco was happy to be living a normal life, but it seemed that Gabi almost missed the conflict of their old lives. She was always excited to put herself in danger, and maybe this was her new way of getting that kick of adrenaline. Well, as her best friend, he would never turn her down, even for something as trivial as-

“Falco, pay attention!” She grunted, suddenly staring straight back into his eyes. He gulped. “Are you ready?”

“Y-Yes sir!” 

“Ready…” His eyes shifted to Levi, who was now taking a moment to browse the array of colours set up on the porch of the flower shop. The lady working there must have noticed him coming, and was kind enough to hold the door open for him as he rolled up the ramp to the entrance. 

“Set…” As soon as he disappeared behind the glass door, Gabi hit Falco’s back. 

“Go!” she yelled.

Pressing the hat down on his head, Falco ran down the hill, doing his best not to trip as he made his way towards the building. Their predetermined route allowed him to move as swiftly as possible while avoiding any doors or windows due to the slight curve. With one last, clumsy jump over the edge of the street, Falco got as close as he could to the wall of the building and hunched down. His breathing had quickened somewhat, resulting in quiet pants as he collected himself. While the door to the shop had closed, the window was thankfully open, allowing him to listen in and analyse the situation.

Operation one: Gather information

“Do you need my recommendation today, Levi?”

“You should know I don’t have any knowledge on these things,” he grumbled, “I just need it to look nice.” Falco was able to make out a faint sigh. “Something happy, preferably.”

“Something happy,” the cashier echoed. “Would chrysanthemums do the trick?”

“Chrystanthe-what?” She chuckled.

“Bright, yellow flowers,” she said, picking a pot from the shelf. “Makes you smile, right? They make for a great addition to any home, and are used both for memorials and decoration.” Falco’s ears perked up at this. He determined that he would have to leave his position outside the shop in order to observe the flowers. The visuals could hold essential information, after all. He quickly glanced up to the hill where Gabi met his eyes with a thumbs up. With a deep breath, he gathered courage and pushed the door open, simultaneously pushing his fedora down over his face. 

“Welcome!” The lady helping Levi greeted him. He opened his mouth to greet her back, before remembering that his voice would give him away. Awkward social situations were a necessary compromise for the operation to succeed. Instead, he slipped as far as he could into the opposite corner of the shop, turned around and pretended that the bags of soil in front of him were really interesting. Gabi acted like the disguise was perfect, but even with the fancy jacket and matching hat, Falco was unsure if he could pass as a random civilian with this behaviour.

The store was crammed to the max with as many plants that could possibly fit into such a small building. Everywhere possible, there were pots with flowers or boxes full of gardening equipment. If you were too reckless with your movement, there was a risk of bumping into obstacles everywhere you went. While it was difficult to stay far away from Levi in the cramped shop, it did instead provide many shelves to hide behind, as long as he was careful. Regardless, Falco was somewhat confident that he could execute the job flawlessly.

“Decided yet, Levi?” She continued. “Daffodils are also a great choice,” she tried again. “They reach high towards the sky with ambition and strength.”

“Quite on the nose.” She laughed.

“Well, you’re not a roses kinda guy, are you?”

“Definitely no roses.” Falco gazed over his shoulder as subtly as he could, catching the sight of the two. The lady dragged the pot of a yellow pair of flowers off the shelf and held it in front of Levi. They didn’t look very romantic, in Falco’s opinion.

“No matter what your choice of flower is, I assure you that your love will shine through.” Her smile beamed with light this time. “Because flowers are the best gifts.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he deflected. “Let’s do those daffodils this time.”

Falco frowned at the choice of flowers, but regardless, he had gathered the information he came there for. It meant almost absolutely nothing, but enough to potentially, maybe, sort of confirm Gabi’s theory that the flowers are meant for a lover. Feeling satisfied with the information, he walked towards the door, but the crowded room unfortunately included tons of things he was capable of knocking over. With a loud clang, an empty, metal watering can hit the floor, and Falco felt his mind scream in embarrassment.

“...Falco?”

“O-Oh, Levi!” He exclaimed, lifting his fedora and thus giving the disguise up. “Didn’t see ya there!” Levi’s expression turned sour. “I mean, I was so absorbed in the- uhh-” He looked at the shelf in front of him. “These new gardening gloves! I’ve been meaning to get some.”

“...Right. For your gardening.” Falco suddenly realised what Levi’s scowl was about and began a frantic attempt at brushing the dirt off of his coat.

“Me and Gabi are trying out this new idea of planting veggies for everyone!” After his failed attempt at cleaning himself, he walked over to the wall of seeds instead. “Maybe potatoes!”

“Oh honey,” the flower lady butted in, “potatoes won’t be in season until april.” Falco’s smile wavered. “Let me help you.”

Falco left the store with a bag of lettuce seeds, gardening gloves, and an empty wallet - without much of a clue to report back to Gabi.

//// That concludes chapter one! Next time, they'll have to try another approach. Comments, likes and reblogs appreciated. This is my first published fanfic, so please be kind lol!

[otrtbs]

hi!!

thank you so much for everything that you’ve contributed to this fandom, seriously, your time has been invaluable. people treat fanfic authors like a writing machine, but no, this is just your hobby!!

i was wanting to ask about your writing process:

1. when writing, do you usually write most/all of your fic before starting to post it?

2. how much do you outline before starting to write?

3. how do you keep up with what seems to be a semi regular posting schedule (as in like, staying committed to a fic and actually completing it lol)

sorry if you’ve already answered any of these before :)

hey hey heyo!!! this is so sweet!!

it honestly depends! with ahb!, i had a very good direction and plan on where i was taking the fic so i knew each chapter before i sat down to write it! but winterlude was more free-form. i was like, i want these 15 things to happen over 4 chapters lets make it work! and then with the dinner fic, that's one that i am writing out in its entirety before i post it. because there's a lot of details and web-weaving that go into it, and if i drop a thread somewhere it'll make the whole tory unravel, so it has to be complete before anyone else sees it. so it really depends on the vibe/intricacy of the fic!!

most of the time i'll try to outline a solid timeline with beginning and then major points to the end in chronological order. (so with art heist imagine like: 1. james introduction. 2. job interview/acquisition 3. assembling the heist team 4. meeting the team 5. new hampshire training 6. practice heist 7. heist 8. art swaps (berlin/amsterdam/portofino/copenhagen) 9. regulus death 10. grieving 11. healing 12. ending) <- and then i would go in and fill in things like,,, how does a jegulus relationship develop amidst all of this? and then you get sub-plot points like the museum date, the drowning degas, the auction house date, etc. until you get a pretty good fleshed-out idea! and then as i write and have even more ideas, i can plop them down somewhere on the timeline (amsterdam coffeeshop meeting/last supper group dinner/ etc) . and before writing each chapter,,, i sort of break chapters down into mini-stories with their own beginnings, middle, ends. just to make sure something is happening in each chapter, and it has structure.

this is putting so much faith in me hahah!! my posting schedule ranges from twice in one week to once in 4-6 months. and sometimes i just delete works if im not feeling them anymore ah! but!! i will say, the biggest way i stay committed to completing a story is having an ending in mind that i'm excited to execute or get to!! like something on the horizon at the end of the story normally motivates me to write enough to get to that point. but it's also just okay to stop writing a certain story if you're feeling uninspired!! sometimes, when i'm feeling burnt-out with one story and i'm not motivated to finish it, i'll just leave it alone and go work on something i'm actually interested in for a while until i feel the interest spark up again!! (hence...months between uploads sometimes) 😋

[juletheghoul]

Let Me Follow (Part 5)

AN: I’ll be honest besties, this was a hard chapter to write. I had it planned out—I have the whole fic planned out—but for some reason it was so hard to get it down. I am so attached to this Joel and I hope you enjoy reading. As always- a big thank you to my girl @wheresarizona for being insanely supportive and for helping me flesh out this story. You’re a REAL one, dedicated to you, and to @babiiface95 because this Joel as as close to your heart as it is to mine. ♥️♥️

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 6K 😅

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) angst, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age), Yearning, post-apocalyptic world, piv sex (wrap it up!), new character, violence (joel goes ham) some soft stuff and maybe a smooch? 👀

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist

------

The sun found Joel with his perpetual scowl and he sighed louder than he meant to. The guilt and shame had been a hound at his heels the whole night and for once in what seemed like an eternity, he had forgotten about the state of the world–at least momentarily anyway. 

She’d grown tired of the crumbs he’d been giving her and he couldn’t blame her, who would want whatever it is they’d had? 

You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve her.

The thoughts kicked him in the teeth, inadequacy blanketing him once more, an old friend. She stirred, sitting up from her place on the couch and wordlessly she began gathering her things and silently he did the same. Ellie came out of the little room a few minutes later, the sun having woken everyone at the same time. 

“You hungry?” Sunny smiled at Ellie, her voice low as she pulled out one of the last protein bars and split it - popping a third of it into her own mouth before handing another to Ellie, her smile gone by the time she dropped the last piece into Joel's outstretched hand. 

He couldn’t do anything but nod in thanks and ignore the hurt.

—

His sighs had filled the space of the little cabin and it shamed you to welcome them, maybe he did feel something after all, in any case though it meant nothing unless he did something about it. Something more. 

The camaraderie between you and Ellie was still there, but after being caught unawares it was now subdued and furtive, something quiet and until you reached somewhere completely safe - if there even was such a place - it would have to remain that way. 

You spoke in low whispers, she asked questions about Johnny which you answered, about how things were in the before - questions a little more difficult to answer but you did so just the same. All of it under the watchful eye of Joel who brought up the rear. The sweat on your brow foretold a particularly hot day in store and you were wiping it when the sound stopped the three of you in your tracks. A pained groan from your left and within a second Joel was in front of you, covering the two of you with his gun pointed at the source of the noise. 

“What the fuck was that? A clicker?” Ellie’s words were quiet beside you. 

“Didn’t sound like one.” You answered, straining your ears for a clue as to what was coming your way, your heart racing at the thought of being ambushed. 

“Is someone there? I’m not armed.” A man's voice sounded through the trees and it did even less to calm your nerves. “Please - I’m hurt-” Whoever it was, they sounded rough. 

“We should see if they’re okay-” Ellie was walking towards the sound but Joel held onto her backpack. 

“No Ellie, could be a trap.” His words grit through clenched teeth and you couldn’t help but agree with him. Still, it was hard not to wonder if someone really was in trouble. 

“Please - I swear I mean no harm-” The words were cut off by a pained groan and something in the way the man spoke felt genuine. You walked towards the sound. 

“I’ll go.” You didn’t wait for a response and ignored the way Joel called out to you - instead you spoke calmly so the person could hear you. “I am armed, and if you make one wrong move you’re dead.” The knife you carried was now held tightly in your grip - the familiar shape of Joel was now behind you, his angry whispers of this is a bad idea falling on your deaf ears as you approached. 

Creeping vines of doubt curled around the lump in your throat as you got closer but were quickly quelled at the sight that greeted you. It was a man, younger than Joel, possibly younger than you half covered in dirt and breathing hard from his place on the ground. You put your knife away and made to step closer but Joel's hand stopped you.

“You bit?” He growled the words out, scanning the surrounding trees for any signs of an ambush. 

“No, I think I- I think I broke my arm though.” His arm was pressed close to his chest, an angry purple bruise wrapped around it and you knew he was right. “There’s a gang about three or four miles west of here, they robbed me of my supplies and almost killed me but I managed to slip away, I fell running downhill though and hit a tree stump. That was a day ago and I can barely move it now.” He seemed out of breath - his clothes torn and shredded, no doubt from the bramble. 

“Here, I think I have something for you.” You crouched down near him something to eat from your ever dwindling resources and he practically ate it out of your hands. “I think I might have some pain medicine- you’re in luck, here.” You fished a couple of the precious pills out of the bottle you carried in your pack and he swallowed them dry. Tears in his eyes as he graciously took all that was offered.

“What’s your name? Can you walk?” Ellie was beside you now, doing her best to help. 

“My name is Luke - If you give me a few minutes to catch my breath and let me follow along, I’ll crawl if I have to.” His voice seemed stronger now, his chapped lips set in a firm line, determined. 

You could see the look in Joel’s eyes, the trepidation, the annoyance and mistrust. 

“As long as you don't give me a reason not to trust you.” You inspected his arm gingerly as he sat up from his place in the dirt. “This looks nasty, I think it's out of place, needs to be reset or it’ll heal wrong and that might be the end of any use from it.” He sighed at your words, recognition in his eyes. He’d been thinking the same thing.

“Look, if we let you follow, you have to know that one wrong move- and I won't hesitate.” Joel's voice was iron, the threat in his words clear but his hand rested on the butt of his gun on his hip anyway. “One toe out of line and I drop you Luke. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal, I’m just trying to survive out here–you won’t regret this I swear.” His eyes were bright and there was something in his voice that carried the weight of sincerity. 

“I believe you. Now about your arm, I think I can help you. I reset my brother's broken leg once- this shouldn’t be too different but I won't sugarcoat it Luke, it's going to hurt like a bitch.” You grabbed a long sleeved shirt from your pack, it would have to serve as a sling. He worried at his lip for a moment before setting his jaw. 

“Do it.” He breathed hard, wordlessly taking the stick Ellie offered and put it into his mouth. 

“Try not to scream, could draw whoever- whatever is out there straight to us.” Joel spoke with a resigned anger, another threat clear in his tone.

Scream, and we’ll leave you here.

Luke nodded once, a sharp intake of breath as you dug your fingers into the bruised skin of his arm to find the break before shoving it back into place and to his credit, he never uttered so much as a peep.

-

How Sunny had survived this long, Joel would never truly understand. It churned over and over in his mind as he followed the three of them, doing his best to protect them all while bringing up the rear of their seemingly, ever-growing party. It was difficult to say if the scowl would ever leave Joel’s face, he’d thought it might–when he was touching her, and when he was inside her it abated for a while at least, but it always came back. 

Luke’s face–although covered in dirt–had been sporting a bright smile since the moment after she’d reset his arm, despite the pain he was surely in and somehow that made Joel’s hackles rise even further. 

The worst part was the difference in Sunny, the way she spoke to Luke- the smiles she gave him freely, smiles that evaporated when she looked at him. What he received could only be described as cold courtesy. 

The bare minimum. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that she’d be angry with him, that she might even be done with him and although she’d be well within her rights to tell him exactly where to go, it still stung. It called to mind the morning after his first time with Tess, how she’d acted completely indifferent. How he’d tried to kiss her, but she’d pushed him away, looked at him like he was insane. 

Sound familiar?

This was different, it was just easier this way. Without all the horrible shit that came with it.

You sure? 

He sighed quietly as he followed them. Shook away the ugly truth that constantly nipped at his heels, that in this, he had turned into Tess. He had morphed into the one that pushed, because he’d promised himself that he’d never have to deal with that pain again. Better to push, than to be pushed. 

A noise sounded, a deep rumble far enough away that they wouldn’t walk straight into it, but too close for Joels comfort. 

“We should head in the opposite direction. I think those are the same scavengers who tried to kill me.” It was hard to fake that kind of pallor, the fear, the blood draining from his face–even Joel could admit that. 

“Were there a lot of them?” Sunny’s eyes narrowed, the cogs whirring in a way that spelled trouble.

“Handful, five for sure, more than that I couldn’t say.” He almost stumbled over a root, his good arm shooting up to hold onto Sunny’s shoulder. Joel ignored the cold dark cloud that bloomed in his chest. 

“Did they have a lot of weapons?” She offered her arm, helping him through the bramble. 

“I saw a shotgun, a couple of smaller guns as well as your run of the mill baseball bats.” he winced at the mention, no doubt reliving his escape. 

“Shouldn’t be too hard to ambush them then.” She said it more to herself than to the rest of them. 

“No.” His voice came out deeper than he meant it to and they all turned in unison. “Not a chance.” Her expression changed from concentration, to annoyance. 

“Why? They have no idea we’re here, we could sneak up on them and be gone by the time they realize they’d been hit–”

“No. We cannot say for sure how many of them there are and we don’t exactly have an army with us.” He gestured to Luke’s injury, and spoke over the beginnings of Ellie’s protests. “I will not risk you by goin’ into this blind.” He raised his eyebrows at them, curtailing any further discussion. 

“Joel, that sound was a vehicle and you know it. We need it in order to get to where we’re going in one piece.” Sunny dug in her heels, crossing her arms as she spoke to him. “If you want to stake it out for an hour or two we could do that but you know we need this.” She didn’t back away from his glare, her voice steady and for a moment he couldn’t help but admire her. 

“I might not be able to help, but I can keep a lookout.” Luke’s voice was strong, determined.

“I can too.” Ellie crossed her arms as well, the three of them waiting for his response.

“Maybe y’all didn’t hear me-“ He shifted his weight, his hand resting on his hip. “I said no, and I meant no.” Ellie sighed, but Sunny narrowed her eyes in a way he didn’t entirely like. “Now let’s hustle, I want to find a place to hold up for the night and see if we can scavenge for some food.” 

He moved to lead, straining his ears for any unwelcome company, trusting that they’d follow.

—-—-—-—-—-—-

Days passed, and the air only seemed to be more tense as steps turned into miles and miles.

Luke struggled, the adrenaline of having been found and given a second chance had worn off almost instantly and it was clear that this trip was agony, but he didn’t let it stop him. He was determined and you couldn’t help but admire him for it. He was a sweet guy, funny despite the state of the world. He greeted every day with a smile for all of you, even Joel and you suspected it was half his nature and half gratitude at not having been left behind to die in a ditch. 

The trees had thinned as your party moved as quietly as possible, dense brush and bramble opening up to bigger stretches of clear field, broken down structures; forgotten suburbs. You’d camped in whatever place you could find, an uneasy routine flourishing between the four of you. 

Things with Joel had not improved. If anything, they were worse. His gaze lingered, his eyes cold and whatever rapport had been previously established had now completely evaporated. You could bet your life it had to do with Luke, with his easy smiles and his enthusiasm to help despite not being able to do much but stoke a fire with his good arm. You felt it like a current, something in the air that tasted of jealousy, of insecurity and rejection. It was stronger at night, when the woods or the house or the abandoned building–wherever you hunkered down was quiet. 

You could feel it tonight. They were asleep and it was your turn to watch for the night—his not so sleeping form just feet away. 

It hurt the most at this time, when all you wanted to do was crawl into the space beside him, feel his warmth seeping into your bones–He turned then and you turned your head. Anger and embarrassment burning up the column of your neck at being caught staring.

“You should sleep. I can take over.” His voice was soft, the drawl more pronounced. 

“I’m fine.” You ignored the jackhammering of your heart as he stood and made his way over to your vantage point, pointedly looking at anything but his towering form beside you. 

“You’re dead on your feet, go on, scoot.” He held his hand out for the gun, gesturing to the place he’d just vacated. You gave in, handing him the weapon before claiming his abandoned spot, ignoring the way you could still feel his warmth. 

-

 “I’m fucking starving.” Ellie was cranky, in truth everyone was cranky. The food supply had dwindled a couple of days ago and it resulted in a very steep dip in already dampened spirits. Your own stomach had grumbled angrily the whole day, it would only get worse now as evening came. 

“I would kill for a piece of bread right now.” Luke mused, his words dreamy. 

“Me too. We should see if we can catch a rabbit or something. I wonder if there’s anything growing around here we could forage.” Joel was walking out of the place he’d chosen for shelter, his face serious as always. “Why don’t you guys get settled, I’ll take a look in the woods nearby.” Joel frowned. 

“We should stick together.” He grumbled, gesturing for everyone to come inside. 

“I’ll go with her. Come on.” Ellie turned, following you towards the woods. “The two of you fell into step while Joel protested. “Relax Joel, we’ll be back in a few.” 

You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head as you weaved through the trees.

-

“Is this anything?” She pointed at a patch of green on the ground, her voice annoyed.

“Nope–just a weed.” You were scoping out the fallen trees for a recognizable mushroom without luck, any berry bush you’d found had been thoroughly picked through by animals but you didn’t give up, there had to be something. “A-ha! Okay here we go, careful they’re pretty sharp. These are wild chestnuts, we have to find a rock or something to break the sharp part to grab the fruit inside.” You found a rock and showed her how to break apart the dangerous outside part, kicking it aside to collect the treasure inside. “We’ll need to roast them, but this is a really great find!” 

The two of you continued to collect, grabbing as many as you could find to bring back to camp. Once satisfied, you continued to look around, hoping to find more to eat. Ellie called you over and the smile stretched further. 

“Wild strawberries - these are wonderful too.” You tasted one and almost moaned. “Very sweet, try one.” She ate it with a big smile before picking as many as she could find. The two of you laughing softly with the delirium of hunger when a noise sounded somewhere deep in the woods. 

The smiles dropped like stones, both of you still as statues, ears straining to make out what the sound was. It was familiar, too familiar. 

“I think it’s a car-” She whispered, her eyes big.

“I think so too, maybe it’s those same scavengers, making their way around the area.” The sound of the engine got closer and you knew they had to be just beyond the dense coppe of trees you were currently foraging in. “I think we should take a quick look–see what they have.” You finished picking all of the berries you could find - tying them up in a spare shirt from your pack. “Or better yet - you go back and give this to Joel and Luke, and I’ll check it out.” 

“Fuck that, I’m going with you.” She squared her shoulders, ready to challenge my protests. 

“Fine, but keep quiet, just going to assess.” She nodded, happy that she hadn’t been shut down.

You both walked towards the sound of the noise as carefully and quietly as possible and sooner than you would have liked - you came across a clearing, and a treasure trove. 

“They have a car!” Ellie whispered excitedly, the two of you crouched down behind a large tree. 

“Yes they do, and it looks like there are only a couple of them.” The two of you watched for a time. There were three men, all of them older and armed. All of them emitting an intense aura of violence. 

Three isn’t so many, not if I’m quick and quiet. 

Your mind desperately searched for some sort of pattern to exploit. A crack you could slip through. 

“We should get Joel.” She frowned, seeing the obstacle instead of how disorganized they were. “Luke could keep watch-” She was nervous.

“Luke can barely carry himself, and Joel isn’t going to want to take the risk-” You kept an eye on the scene before you both, they’d left the car behind and seemed to be walking away from the shelter. No doubt conserving the gas. “Stay here. I’m going to sneak in now while they’re gone and take a quick look around, hopefully they left the keys and I can steal them for later.” You rose to go but her hand caught your sleeve. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I think we should go get Joel, just in case.” her brow was creased, worry on her face and you shushed her with a smile. 

“We both know what Joel will say, trust me.” You pulled her close for a quick reassuring hug, “Keep watch for me!” With that, you ran. 

The coast was clear as you approached what looked to be half shed, half mobile home and as you moved to peek through a boarded up window your stomach roiled to realize that you hadn’t even been sure there was no one inside before you ran over. The thought of stealing a vehicle overriding the basic survival rules that had kept you alive until now. Luckily, there was no one inside that you could see. 

You ran over to the car, hurriedly pulling on the handle to the drivers side and you couldn’t help the loud sigh of relief at finding it unlocked. The exclamation of triumph was on the tip of your tongue when you heard voices rounding the corner of the dirt road the men had taken. They’d come back early. 

Shit.

There was no way you’d make it back to Ellie in time without being seen and you couldn’t risk these men following you to where Joel and Luke were staying so without a second thought, you crawled under the car, and waited. 

-

He’d checked every inch of the house they’d found, gone through every drawer and hidden cranny for something to eat and had come up with a big fat pile of fuck-all. Now more than ever, he hoped Sunny had scrounged up something. The headache was creeping in, almost blurring the edges of his vision. He was rubbing at his temples when Ellie burst in through the door. 

“She’s stuck!” She was frantic, her eyes wild and it filled him with a horrible sinking feeling. 

“Ellie!” He grabbed her by the shoulders, “Breathe, what’s wrong?” Luke came up behind him, whatever she would say next, he knew it wouldn’t be good.

“We went out to forage, found some stuff-” He saw the gathered cloth filled with something hanging by her sides then. “And we heard something so we went to check it out–she told me she’d be quick.” A boulder dropped into Joel’s stomach. “They’d left and I told her we should come get you but she said she’d be quick and now she’s stuck!” 

“Stuck where Ellie? Who are they? How many?” Luke asked the questions Joel needed answered and she shook her head, frustrated and scared. 

“There were three of them! Three big fucking guys beyond the woods, they had a car but they came back quick and she hid under the car, we have to go get her!” She was frantic, he stood quickly, gathering his gun and a piece of wood he could use like a baseball bat. 

“In the same direction you walked off to? How far?” He was almost to the door when she followed him. “You’re staying here and I don’t want to hear a single word about it. Just point me where to go.” She followed him out the door, pointing towards the woods. “Luke–watch her.” He pointed to Ellie, ignoring her protests. 

“You got it.” Luke set his jaw, guiding Ellie softly inside. “Come on, we should wait inside and not make so much noise, don’t want to attract–” He didn’t stay around to listen to them, his headache was replaced with a horrible buzzing, pure adrenaline and rage flowing through his veins at the thought that he might find her wounded or worse. 

He reached the clearing within a few minutes, ignoring the pounding in his ears; ignoring the way his stomach sank and the bone-deep fear that nipped at his heels with every step. 

He saw them then, two of them going through her bag while one of them held her with her hands behind her back, a gun to her head. He didn’t think, he just reacted. Running out from the clearing headfirst and catching them unawares he was able to shoot the two rifling through her pack before they even knew what hit them. 

“Stop! Put the fucking gun down. NOW!” He heard her sharp intake of breath, saw her eyes widen in surprise and something else he couldn’t focus on right now, not with the rage burning through him like a wildfire. “I swear to god I’ll fucking shoot her.” She winced when he pressed the barrel to her temple. Joel didn’t back away, instead he narrowed his eyes, wondering if he could squeeze off a shot before he hurt her. 

“Joel-” His name in her mouth earned her a crack across the back of the head and he all but growled at the man. She caught his eye, gesturing almost imperceptibly to her feet and then she stomped on his foot hard. Hard enough to wriggle away and fall to the ground. Joel didn’t waste a second - he shot the man but hit his chest instead of the clean headshot he’d wanted. 

She was scrambling, running towards him. 

“Let’s go Joel–if there are any infected they’ll have heard the shots.” She was running over to him but he barreled over her, this man couldn’t be left alive. He stalked over to where he sputtered in the dirt, his fist squeezed tight as he landed blow after blow into his face. The anger, the fear bubbling in his throat; the scared yet defiant look on her face flashing in his mind as the man's bones crunched under his fists. 

“Joel–” She pulled him up, the effort of pulling him away immense if her voice was anything to go by. “He’s dead Joely, come–we have to move, those shots will draw whatever and whoever is nearby.” She pulled him away, pulled him away from the mess at his feet. Pulled him towards her scattered things, towards the car.

-

He was deathly quiet as you drove down a dirt road in the general direction of the shelter you’d chosen, the air charged with a strange, intense static. You were leaning into the steering wheel, going slow and steady with your eyes darting all around–acutely aware that a flat tire could be the difference between a handful of hours until you reached your destination, versus the weeks it would take on foot. The difference between life and death with the amount of food and water you didn’t have screaming through the constant ache of hunger. 

He flexed his hands, the movement as clear as it could be in your periphery–already his knuckles were turning purple. It must have been excruciating. 

Ellie and Luke were outside before you’d even stopped the car. The relief on her face at seeing you was enough to make you tear up. She was halfway in when Joel got out and ran into the shelter, no doubt making sure nothing was left behind. 

“Jesus fucking Christ am I glad to see you!” You laughed, reaching back to hold onto her hand quickly before she helped Luke get into the backseat. 

“Everything okay? We heard the shots.” Lukes face was pale, unspoken worry clear in the way his lips were bitten raw, in his shell shocked expression. If you hadn’t come back, he would have had to take care of Ellie on his own. “I cannot believe you got the car.” His big brown eyes were wide, shock momentarily giving way to awe at being inside a vehicle for the first time in god knows how long. 

“We’re okay, with this–and a bit more luck we should reach Jackson in a couple of days.” You smiled at them both, reassuring them that you were okay, pointedly ignoring the ache from where the gun barrel had struck you. 

Joel ran out of the house, his bag in his lap when he threw himself into the car and with that, you were back on the road. 

-

Hours passed and the overgrown country road had stretched out before you, the trees hung low where they were encroached on the unused roads. Nature was reclaiming itself, erasing the fingerprint humans had left behind. The blow to the back of your head had turned into a painful goose egg you tried your hardest to ignore. 

Luke and Ellie had fallen asleep, lulled by the rocking of the car and the promise of momentary safety, their soft snores had filled the tense space between Joel and you, it had been the only soundtrack until you’d eventually found an old empty farmhouse to spend the night.

It wasn’t much, but it was dry and the doors closed. It was more than you could have asked for. 

You followed him towards the back of the house, towards an ancient, dark, dusty looking den.  A small room filled with windows that let in the moonlight. Found him lying on an old musty quilt on the floor.

“Joel?” it was a whisper, a guilty sounding croak–his anger at the huge risk you’d taken filling up the space like thick smoke. You ignored the way your stomach roiled and closed the door behind you. “Joel, can we talk? I want to apologize, and to thank you for coming to help me.” 

There was a loud sigh, that he didn’t immediately tell you to leave was as good a sign as any. 

“Joely–” You got down to his level behind him and he turned to face you and you almost flinched, expecting the rage and the anger and the scowl to end all scowls but his expression was so much worse. The moon shined on his face and there was a raw hurt there that was like a punch to the gut. 

“I told you not to.” He didn’t sound angry, he sounded tired. “I told you the risk was too big, Sunny.” His nickname for you was a lump in your throat.

“I know, I’m sorry.” It was all you could say.

“I know I’m not the easiest to be around, I know I’m a hardass but I–we need you around. Ellie needs you around. You make the trip easier for her. Do you have any idea how scared I was that something had happened to you?” Your heart raced, was this finally it? 

“You were scared?” It wasn’t what you should have focused on but you couldn’t help but cling to the hope swelling in your chest. 

“Of course I was, I–” He stopped, his eyes closing tight and you held your breath as he let out one of his. “Please, please promise me you won’t do that again.” He reached over, slowly taking your hand into his, the warmth of it like a balm. 

“I promise.” You scooted closer to him, unwilling to let him go and he said nothing, his response was to pull you close, and wrap himself around your back. His big arm draped over your middle, pulling you tight to his chest. 

The pounding in your head quieted with his soft breath on your neck. The pounding of your heart though, that ramped up, especially when his lips pressed against the side of your neck. Despite your earlier resolve you shifted to give him more access, it spurred him on and within a moment his hand was sliding under all the layers. The skin of his palm smoothing its way up the soft skin of your belly, tentative at first but more confident as it slipped under the band of your bra to hold onto your breast, to feel the weight of it. 

Your nipple pebbled in his palm almost painfully making him groan deep and the sound made you drip; your cunt achingly empty. Your hand wound up and around to reach for his hair, the arousal flowing at the feeling of his hardening cock against the curve of your ass. 

“Can I?” He whispered into the crook of your neck, his hands moving down toward the waistband of your pants—with the nod of your head he was up, kneeling and pulling you into the position he wanted, ass up into his lap. 

His hands were frantic, they all but ripped your layers down to your knees, separating from your body only to free himself and once he did you felt the wet tip of him where he slid it through the lips of your sex. You pressed back, barely containing your own eagerness to have him fill you again. A shared groan hung in the air as he slid inside, the layers of clothing at your knees keeps your legs closed, making him feel so much bigger. 

His thrusts were brutal, each rough snap of his hips knocked the air out of your lungs, a network of fire spreading through your veins, burning you within but it wasn't enough. For you, or for him. 

The heavy hands on your hips moved and all of a sudden your face was no longer buried in the musty quilt, he’d brought you up towards him, only stopping to roughly pull up your shirt and bra, moaning when he had both breasts in his hands. Everything in you screamed to turn your head and beg for his mouth, beg for him to give you his tongue as freely as he gave you his cock but you held back. He snapped his hips again, moving an arm to form an iron band around your middle, his face now pressed into the crook of your neck as his thrusts got faster, wetter. 

His breath fanned across your skin, raising goosebumps in its wake, his grunts and moans pulling wave after wave of arousal out of you to drip around his battering cock. 

“Don’t leave me Sunny.” It came out almost like a whine, and it almost broke your heart.

“I won’t–” He reached down to rub tight circles around your clit, pulling a moan out between the words. “God, right there.” All you could do was hold onto his forearms and accept the way he railed into you. 

“Please, please stay, fuck.” He let out a sharp breath when he felt it, when he felt you come around him, the force of your orgasm squeezing him so tight he could barely move. 

“Oh fuck–” You moaned the words, the euphoria flooding your veins, both quenching the fire and feeding it as you all but floated away. 

He took a sharp breath, swearing under his breath before he bent you over and pulled out in a panic, you felt the hot spurt of his come on the puffy lips of your sex. Felt the bruising grip of his hand on the meat of your ass as he painted you in himself. 

You both caught your breath for a minute before you felt him wiping you clean, heard righting his clothes before helping you right your own and before you could do anything but take deep, steadying breaths he was pulling you onto his chest. 

“I’m sorry Joely.” You breathed him in greedily, ignoring how much you needed this, and how much it would hurt if he pushed you away in the morning. 

“I know you are. Sleep now.” He turned, and curled himself around you and despite the bone-deep urge to stay up and bask in his arms, the darkness won and swallowed you whole. 

—

The pain in the back of your head woke you, pulling you out of the peaceful, dreamless sleep cruelly. The layers you’d shed in your sleep were neatly folded beside you, he was already dressed, his scowl back in place. 

You dressed in silence, dreading how he’d act in the light of day, without the cover of night to hide the little bit of softness he’d offered last night. 

“Ellie and Luke are still sleeping, we need to find something to eat soon.” He spoke almost coldly, barely looking up from his things. 

Your heart squeezed at the thought that you'd fallen for it again. 

Is this just how it is with him? Toe-curling sex at night and an unfriendly grump during the day?

You sighed big, willing yourself to reach over to him and when he flinched your heart sank. 

“Is it just sex? Is that all you want from me?” It hurt too much to be angry. 

“Sunny I–” His eyes widened, shame plastered on his face, weaving through his words. 

“I don’t understand! How can you beg me not to leave and then push me away?” You pulled your boots on, the shame and embarrassment making your lip tremble. “I can’t do this Joel, I can only take so much.” Your eyes betrayed you, rogue tears slipping down without your permission. 

“Listen-” He grabbed your hand when you turned to leave, making you turn back around to face him. 

“Listen to what? The reasons you don’t want any part of me except what’s between my legs?” He sighed, his expression almost hurt.

What the fuck do YOU have to be hurt about???

“Sunny, wait–” He held firm, looking into your eyes but it was too much. 

“I can’t Joel, I can’t do the back and forth, you cannot understand how much it hurts–” He surged forward, shocking you into silence when he pressed his mouth to yours. Your eyes widened in surprise before your brain caught up with your mouth, melting into his embrace and accepting the kiss you’d been waiting what felt like aeons for. 

His hands moved from your arms, to wrap around your waist, pressing you oh so close. His lips were soft, moving against yours, coaxing your mouth open to press his sweet tongue against yours. He pulled a whimper out of you, an invisible force brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. Your heart fluttering wildly, a bird within the cage of your ribs.

His kiss was devastating. 

He pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“I am not good at this Sunny, you’re gonna have to be patient with me.” His thumb wiped away the tears that adorned your cheeks. “Can you do that for me?” You nodded, dumbstruck and giddy and confused and happy and a whole mess of other emotions filling up every inch of space inside you. “Don’t give up on me, okay?” He pressed his lips to yours again, the tickle of his stubble making you smile into the kiss. 

“I won’t.” 

–

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[ndrayton]

Ghost Stories Postmortem!!!

It’s me, FieryGaze!!! Now that Chapter 13 is out and posted and my brain has freed up about 75% of its RAM, I wanted to make a post just to reflect on the journey, drop some fun facts, & explain the intent behind some of my choices. Here they are in no particular order.

Spoilers beware, obviously. I'm going to be talking about the whole fic here.

Episode Titles

Each episode title refers to two things at once – the monster or challenge the group is facing, plus one other important thematic element. “The Demon King” is the simplest one, referring both to the actual Demon King and then to Kim Dokja gaining that power for himself. The others are a little more open to interpretation, but were chosen with the intention of referring to 2 specific things.

Constant reappearance of the number “Thirteen”?

I’d like to say there was a lot of thought behind this, but there wasn’t. I just went “ooo, unlucky number” and ended up repeating it as often as possible. 13 years since KDJ and HSY met; 13 years spent in the spirit world chasing the Endless Cycle; 13 loops before KDJ met YJH. It was a lucky coincidence that the chapter count also happened to be 13 (I’d initially planned for twelve, and everything that happened in Unseen World was supposed to be squished into the end of Infinite Loop Part II. When I realized that was absolutely NOT going to give me enough space to resolve everything, I was delighted to realize that I could make the chapter count 13 and have it be thematically relevant and Not just a case of poor planning).

Lee Seolhwa also states that the number 7 is significant for certain spirits. I just think it’s fun that the total chapter count ended up as 13 and the total Episode count as 7.

Perspective and Tense Changes

From the beginning, the use of first person was actually a bit of a false flag—it’s meant to represent the ghost of Kim Dokja, trapped in the loop, imagining himself as the living version of himself going on these adventures. Kim Dokja as the narrator states this outright.

It was about time I stopped pretending that “I” was really this person called Kim Dokja. (Ch. 11)

Maybe I pretended for a while, for a long while, that it was really “me” who was fighting at your side. (Ch. 13)

The first person narration also tends to flip between present and past tense, especially in later chapters when Ghost!KDJ begins using second person to refer to Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk, but also when he’s making general observations about the world. It’s not technically grammatically correct, but I was trying to grant a small step of separation between him and the other characters, whose perspectives are written more strictly in third person past tense.

The final monologue is also in present tense, unmooring it from the sequence of events of the story, hopefully making it feel a little more dreamlike/internal. I feel like I’m allowed to mess with tenses this much only because it’s an orv fic and I’m not afraid to get meta.

I also used present tense during almost all of chapter 10. I wanted it to feel like a whole separate fic-within-a-fic, and a lot of fanfic is written in present tense, so I was deliberately evoking that (including See You Yesterday, undeniably a MAJOR inspiration for this chapter). I also wanted to provide a sense of immediacy—Yoo Joonghyuk truly believes that what he’s experiencing in the dream is really happening to him, right now—that I could pull back on once he realized he was dreaming, returning to past tense and the main flow of the larger story.

As a side note, by the time I finally finished chipping away at chapter 10 I thought it was awful, so I was surprised and delighted when it became everyone’s favourite chapter, lmao. This is probably why people have beta readers, to get a little bit out of their own heads. Anyway, the positive response to that chapter really brightened my week.

… My favourite scenes 😊

The first scene I really had a blast with was probably the possession scene—what can I say, you don’t make a “Paranormal investigation AU” without wanting to play with a few of its standard tropes. That’s when I realized I could happily keep writing this fic for as long as it took to finish it (I initially planned for 2 months. It became 4.)

I also had such a fun time writing all of “Blank Message”, from the kids bullying poor Dokja to what amounts to me basically just drawing hearts around Yoo Joonghyuk’s name as he fails to use technology but also gets to be the most specialest boy in the world. That episode practically wrote itself, honestly. I accidentally wrote like 12,000 words of it in my phone notes app because I kept having ideas at work and had little else to do during our slow season.

My actual favourite scene, though, might be Yoo Joonghyuk cooking in Han Sooyoung’s kitchen in Ch. 12? I just thought it was sweet. Maneuvering those two into a position where they could be emotionally vulnerable with each other was a challenge. My notes for that section are funny to me, I’m just struggling to get to the heart of the scene and yelling at them to please be emotionally vulnerable.

... There was like 500 more words of this.

I can’t help but feel the yoohan corner of yoohankim got a little neglected in this fic, but it’s because they had so many unresolved issues that I couldn’t just leap ahead to the romance angle without first addressing them… and by then the fic was kinda over. Please understand, however, that they love and understand each other deeply despite (because of??) being the way they are. Maybe I’ll explore that more in future stories. Who could say.

Most challenging part to write?

Wrong Room Part II, Forgotten Boy Part II, and the first bit of Devourer of Dreams Part II before Kim Dokja showed up (it was way easier to write once he was there because the joongdok dynamic really pulled the plot along).

All three of these had significant rewrites and Forgotten Boy Part II took me like… an entire week to figure out. The Part II’s tended to be tricky because that’s when I was making all the setup from Part I pay off, but I wanted it to be engaging and exciting and not feel too paint-by-numbers. I learned a lot writing these!

What was Yoo Joonghyuk saying at the end of Blank Message that got censored?

“▪▪ ▪▪▪ ▪▪▪▪▪▪ ▪▪▪ ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ ▪▪ ▪▪▪▪▪”

“Do you really not remember…”

Well, maybe you can intuit the rest from context clues (what Mia was saying just beforehand).

There was a bunch of other censoring when Kim Dokja was trying to explain to Yoo Joonghyuk where all his special knowledge of the time loop came from, but I didn’t actually note it down as it was all pretty much able to be inferred, like “the loop is actually based on a book series”.

There’s certainly more to find, but that’s all I have to say for now!

I fun with foreshadowing, but I’m not going to call out anything specific, because I think it adds to reread value. There’s an especially mean bit of “foreshadowing” in one part that had me absolutely cackling. Let me know if you find it.

Anyway!

I had no plans to put so much time and effort into writing fanfic this year, and yet here I am with 120,000 words in four months, which is… FAR AND ABOVE my normal writing pace, especially lately. What can I say? Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint is a really special story and I don’t have any friends who have read it, which put my brain into an absolute pressure-cooker for which the only release could be writing orv a novel-length love letter.

I’m seriously thankful for everyone who read the story and left so many emphatic, excited, and kind comments. The readers absolutely transformed this experience from something I was plodding away at by myself just to see if I could do it into something I was really excited to share with others, and as a result I put a lot more effort and care into the story.

I do have a few other ideas for this AU—for which the seeds are actually already planted in the story—but, as I mentioned in my author’s note, I desperately need to take a fanfic break for a while. I can’t promise if/when I’ll get back to it, but I would definitely like to at some point.

IN ANY CASE, FOR THE LAST TIME ON THIS ADVENTURE….

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[crystalelemental]

Alright, last one for the weekend. This one is a longer one (6-7 chapters, so not that long, but still), and I'm actually taking the recommendation of @books-are-my-life-stuff and posting a chapter at a time. We'll, uh. We'll see how that goes. The plan is one chapter a week on Sundays until the next DLC drops. Anyway...

Is FruitfulBattleShipping the name we're going with? I like it. Whatever we're calling it, Carmine/Nemona. I have seen the ship concept float around, and I agree with their beliefs. Consider this my contribution to the pairing. I actually love the idea, and hopefully those who already like it enjoy the fic, and those who hadn't considered will do so now. This chapter is just the setup, getting them to meet, but I hope it establishes the dynamic well. As usual, some spoiler-laden commentary under the cut.

Everyone has (correctly) gravitated toward a shonen-anime style protagonist/rival dynamic for these two, and I've seen a good deal of fanart around it that is admittedly hilarious. What I want to offer is how well that actually tracks to their personalities. Carmine is incredibly competitive, in the way where she needs to prove herself and stand at the top. She eases off of it by the end of the DLC's first act, but that tendency wouldn't disappear, so it's more likely to be something toward Juliana specifically as a friend. By contrast, Nemona has that aim to always improve herself and to have fun with what she's doing, hoping others will as well. It's a good initial setup.

What I think is interesting is the history that Nemona holds back. While she doesn't always right away, Nemona's gotten the sense that others don't like when she wins too easily, and adjusts herself to not be as overwhelming a force. Which can irritate people when they know she's not giving her all. I like to think that Nemona's battles go kinda like what's written: immediately all out because what's restraint, opponent expresses frustration, inner sense of conflict and fear they won't like her or want to battle, holding back. And Carmine being so expressive, and specifically so quick to anger, gets Nemona reacting to tone herself down. Which would go as well as expected.

By contrast, Carmine's...well, it's not a strategy, but she talks smack the whole time. She doesn't do so directly, though, not really. Her barbs are a little more indirect, the kind of attack that's more like "I guess I over-estimated you" and "maybe you just suck because I'm so dazzling." You know. The kind of social overtures that fly right over Nemona's head. Which is prime material for putting Carmine on the back foot in any engagement.

In essence, they are the perfect storm of missing each other initially. Nemona wouldn't internalize an indirect barb and completely disarms Carmine with sincerity, while Carmine would never accept Nemona holding back or accept that she could lose. It's perfect.

I'll keep the rest of the dynamic for later chapters. The only other thing I'll mention is, I brought in Ms. Tyme because in my head, that's probably Nemona's favorite teacher. Nemona is, in fact, straight-laced as a student, and a rule follower. Ms. Tyme, being incredibly strict about the rules and no-nonsense, is exactly the kind of teacher Nemona would respond well to. I hope you can see my vision.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one! As mentioned, I'll be updating once a week on Sundays.