#might change some names around and fix some other stuff and come up with a new plot but. yeah. i want them back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lil-spider · 8 months

Text

So Damn Pretty

Chapter 2

Part 1 : Part 3 :

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: Okey I’ve changed some stuff so here’s some context. I like the idea of Johnny being a bit of an sex addict and he’s really good at sex (he can find the clit type of good) cause he’s made himself a hobby fucking the pretty female victims and going out to the local bar when he actually gets free time. He’s a basically massive man whore, but he can’t help it that women find him sexy (super cocky). But Drayton later finds out he’s been fucking the food (lmao) and has temporarily banned him from going out by himself and keeping the female victims away from him. So a sex starved Johnny who’s heavily attracted to the reader sees an opportunity to use her like a maid so he can constantly keep fucking her. I’m still gonna keep the baby momma thing but that will come later in the story. Oh and I’m turning 21 on the 17th! So happy birthday to my fellow September babies!

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

Catchy music was blearing out of the front speakers of the minivan; my friends Jessica and Nate were singing along to the tunes. I was sitting in the back, relaxing into my seat, enjoying the fact that college was finished and summer holidays were just beginning. We decided this summer we were going to experience camping for the first time. We had all grown up in the city and never got the chance to enjoy the country side of Texas. I’m excited to finally cross camping off my bucket list, and make this summer memorable.

My bubbly blonde friend Jessica turned around in her seat. “Two hours left, and we should be at the campsite before night.” She said this, grinning at me and turning back to kiss her boyfriend, Nate, on the cheek. Nate, being the protective type, only tagged along with us as he didn’t like the idea of two ‘pretty girls’ camping by themselves in the middle of nowhere. They have only been dating for a few months; he’s the classic teen heartthrob with dazzling eyes and short, dark blonde hair, and Jessica is the overly cute blonde. They were perfect for each other. I smile at the both of them, they were great friends.

“Oh fuck!” Nate is panicking as black smoke starts coming out of the hood. He pulls over to the side of the road, and all of us get out to see what’s wrong. “Can’t it be fixed?” I ask, looking at Nate, worried. His face contorts in disappointment. “I've got no idea, Y/N; cars aren’t my speciality.”

We all look at each other, uncertain of what to do; we’re in the remote countryside without any sort of help. “We might have to walk back if no one drives by.” Nate tells us regretfully: But as soon as he said that, we saw an old blue Ford truck honking and driving up to us.

“You need a hand?” The unknown driver asked Nate. “Yes please! Our van just broke down with smoke coming out.” Nate explained to the man. He nods his head and parks his truck in front of us. The trucks door opens, and out climbs one of the best-looking guys I have ever seen. He wears a black sleeveless top that shows off his muscular arms and a pair of blue denim jeans paired with dirty yellow gloves. He has dark brown hair slicked back with a few strands falling over a scar; my cunt embarrassingly throbbed at the sight of him; I must have gone red in the face as he smirked looking at me. I quickly turned my head to look at Jessica, who was also a little red in the face. It’s not every day you see a hot country boy.

The handsome stranger introduces himself as Johnny Slaughter. “Good to meet you, Johnny. I’m Nate, over there is my girlfriend Jessica and my friend Y/N.” I did a little wave at my name, hoping I wasn’t still blushing. He shakes Nates hand and nods his head to us. “Ladies. Damn, he has a deep voice; it’s making me all hot and bothered. “Alrighty then Nate, pop the hood and let's take a look.”

Johnny stared at the engine, arms pressed against the van, leaning over while shaking his head. “I’m going to have to get my tools for this.” He said, looking over at us. ‘’Ah, shit! That bad?" Nate asked. “Yep, but don’t y’all worry, I’ll get this baby fixed in the morning. For now I can take you guys back to my family’s home, get some food, and sleep?’’ Johnny offered. “Wow, that’s so nice of you, Johnny.’’ Jessica replied, smiling at him, being a little too flirty.

I feel a little uncertain about trusting Johnny, we have only just met him; but he is helping us and I would rather not sleep on the side of the road. Jessica and I nod to Nate in agreement with Johnny’s offer. “Okay, yeah, we’ll go with you.’’ Nate tells him. He smiles, slamming the hood of the van back down, and turns, leading us back to his truck. He opens the back door, and we three slide in. As Johnny hops into the driver's seat, we are greeted by a woman sitting in the passenger seat. Was she here the whole time? “Hi y'all, I’m Sissy.’’ She introduces herself with a wink, but before we could reply, she blows this white powder in our faces. My vision starts to blur as I hear strangled coughing from my friends, and everything quickly goes black.

The next thing I know, I’m waking up tied to a meat hook, covered in dry blood, and desperate for freedom. At that time I had no idea where Jessica and Nate could be, but now as I stare at their lifeless, brutalised corpses, I regret not trying to find them. Jessica's blonde hair is tangled, and her body is covered in slices, with a massive cut on her stomach. Nate's handsome face was shredded up by a chainsaw. They are getting wrapped in a blue tarp, by a larger man with a very human like mask on his face. Johnny takes a drag of his cigarette while holding me, and he shoots me a grin, seeing my legs wobble from the hard fucking I endured. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? So slutty having an orgasm while your friends get murdered.’’ He taunts quietly in my ear, guilt-tripping me.

“Johnny, why is she still alive?” Asked the small woman who blew white powder in my face. It’s Sissy, I think, trying to remember her name. “This pretty little thing is going to help us cook, clean, and do all the daily chores around the house. We’ve been needing extra hands around the farm since Ma is gone and Drayton busy with the chilli carnivals.’’ He explains to Sissy. She looks at me up and down, smirking. “Oh, I’ve been wantin’ some female company for ages now, and you're so beautiful too! I have these pretty ol’ dresses that would look lovely-,” she didn’t finish her sentence as she’s cut off by Johnny. “That’s enough, Sissy; you can talk to her later; we've got sh*t to do.’’ She rolls her eyes at him but goes to help the larger man.

Johnny pats the larger man on the back, “You did a good job, Bubba.’’ So Bubba is his name. He just lets out these happy groans. So he’s nonverbal?Johnny turns back to me. “Were you listening before? Tomorrow, Sissy will show you how things get done.” With a cig in his mouth, he grabs me again, pulling me out of the slaughterhouse and bringing me to his parked truck. “I’ll cut off the zip-tie when we get back home.’’ He opens the passenger-side door, waiting for me to hop in. He shuts the door after me and flicks away his burned-out cigarette, reaching in his back pocket for another one. Johnny walks away as Sissy plops into the back seat. “Hi again sugar.” She says gleefully behind me.

Johnny and Bubba walk back, carrying each body on their shoulders, I swallow a lump as they chuck the bodies carelessly in the tray. Johnny, with another cigarette in his mouth, gets into the driver's seat, Bubba sits next to Sissy. Johnny chucks his packet of smokes and bloodied gloves from his back pocket onto the dash. He starts up the engine and changes gears, leaving the slaughterhouse behind. The drive is silent except for Sissy’s humming; Bubba stares out of his window while Johnny drives one handed flicking his finished cigarette out the window. I look back to the front, watching the high beam lights brighten up the dark landscape.

We turn onto a long dirt road leading up to a white, two-story house. Johnny parks the truck at the front and helps Bubba unload the bodies. Sissy goes to unlock the front door, leaving me alone. I thought of running when they took the bodies into the house. But I’m still zip-tied, so my chances of escaping now are extremely slim.

Johnny comes back to open my door and yank me out. He roughly drags me inside. I look around and notice a lot of bone decor, similar to the hanging bones in the slaughterhouse. I really hope it’s not human. I’m brought downstairs to a basement, Johnny opens this metal door, it makes a loud awful sound. He takes me to a small prison; Johnny stops to cut off the zip-tie, and I rub my sore wrists, trying to bring the blood to flow back. Johnny pushes me into the room, locking the door. It’s smells disgusting and damp.

“I'll be back to bring ya’ dinner.’’ He leaves upstairs, slamming that awful metal door. I sit down on the dirt floor and bring my knees to my chest. Dried-up cum is all over my thighs, making me feel gross. I started to cry. The last few hours have been horrid. I wish it was just a nightmare. The basement door slides open again. Snivelling, I stand to see who's down here. It’s that large man with the mask, Bubba; he walks over to the end of the basement, where I see Jessica and Nate’s hanging bodies, stomachs sliced open with their organs dropped into a metal tub. My hands shake as I cover my mouth in shock. Oh God! Bubba unhooks Nate and carries him over to a workbench littered with dirty tools. He grabs a hacksaw and begins to dismember Nate. I walk backwards into a corner, sliding down the wall. I started to breakdown. Is he harvesting them? Are these murderers cannibals? God, why did this happen? From sheer exhaustion, I lean my head back and pass out.

“Hey! Wake up!’’ My eyes shot open, searching for the yelling voice. It’s Johnny; he’s holding a white bowl with a spoon. He crouch’s down to my level and hands out the bowl for me to take. I hesitate because I am sceptical of the ingredients. “It’s pot roast; Sissy made it.’’ It does smell delicious, but I don’t wanna eat it. “I’m not hungry,” I told him in defiance. His eye twitches in annoyance, not liking my response. He grabs my hair roughly, craning my neck to stare at him. “Listen, I’m being really fucking nice here, so I ain’t gonna take any disrespect! You may be pretty, but I can easily get another woman who is just a tad more obedient to replace you.’’ His threat worked. I snatched the bowl and dug in, It was tasty. “Good girl.’’ He smiled, patting my head as I ate. He waits until I’m finished and leaves. Did I eat someone? Will I have to eat my friends? I have so many questions but right now the only thing that matters is staying alive. I don’t want to end up like Jessica and Nate.

Sometime later, Johnny comes back to let me out. “Follow me," I obeyed him, leaving the basement and following upstairs. He brings me to a bathroom. It has white broken tiles, a large bathtub with a shower head. He locks the door after I enter and turns the water on, letting it heat up. He throws off his top, giving a new view of his muscular body. I couldn’t help but stare. He has old scars lingering over his body more noticeably on his large pecs, he’s has light definition on his abdomen, and a defined v-cut. His body represents the result of hard work. He smirks at my staring, continuing he unbuckles his jeans, pulling them down. I quickly glance wanting to get a good look at his cock. It’s only semi-hard yet it’s still intimidating, how did it managed to fit inside me?

Johnny doesn’t move as he waits for me to undress. Not wanting to anger him again, I take off my dress, dropping the tattered material. I shiver in my naked form. He gently takes my hand and helps me into the shower. I hiss as the hot water makes my cuts sting. He grabs a plain bar of soap and starts lathering it up and down my body. Enjoying my little gasps as he squeezes my tits and glides his hands everywhere. He swaps us around so he goes under the water, his muscles flex as he relaxes, his head falling back, closing his eyes, while his hands run through his dark hair.

I won’t lie; just the sight of him is turning me on. Shit, why does he have to be so sexy? A murderer shouldn’t be sexy. Startling me out of my thoughts, he grabs my hand that’s holding the soap and moves it to his body, wanting me to wash him. Nervous, I don’t refuse, but I start out slowly around his stomach, leading up to his chest. This small action makes him rock hard. I see it pulse against his lower stomach just above his belly button, I bite my tongue scrubbing his body with both hands, massaging his chest and arms, feeling his muscles. The hot look he gives me sends a throb straight to my core. Water gently running down his handsome face. He brings my right soapy hand down to his cock, tugging it. “Come on baby, jerk my fucking cock.’’ I hesitate for a second, he squeezes my hand hard as a slight warning not to disobey. Wincing, I start to tug at his cock up and down, jerking him off. Groaning, he rocks his hips, shifting them into my hand, following my rhythm. “Good girl, play with my cock, just like that’’ He’s a head taller then me so when he grabs my chin to look at him I have to bend my neck back. “I bet your pussy’s dripping.’’

He swats my hand away and grabs my hips, bringing me in closer under the water so the soap starts rinsing off. He places his fingers below and, feels up my pussy, “I fucking knew it; you're such a needy whore, getting wet from jerking my cock off.’’ I grow shy at his words, wanting to hide my face from embarrassment. Johnny places his hands on the sides of my head and shoves his tongue down my throat. Heavily aroused, I kissed back, holding on to his shoulders. We start making out, our hot tongues wrestling with each other. His strong arms pick me up and shove me against the shower wall. I wrap my legs around his waist for balance while he lines his cock up thrusting it in my cunt without warning. I groan at the sudden intrusion: “Shhh, it’ll only take a second.’’ He says impatiently pounding into me. His hard cock reaches new places, making me moan desperately. The running water muffles the sounds of flesh clapping together. He grips my hips hard as he thrusts upward at a brutal pace. This time only focusing on his own release.

He leans back to watch my chest bounce. “Fuck, I love your tits.’’ He says with admiration as he slows down to suckle on each nipple. His obsession with my breasts is going to be the end of me. I start getting closer again until he stops, suddenly cumming inside me. “Ah,’’ he lets out a little moan as he fills my throbbing cunt. I look at him in disappointment, I was so close to cumming. He grins playful at me. He places me down as we go back to washing, I silently fume as my pussy and clit pulse from neglect.

We dry ourselves, and he puts on new, clean clothes similar to his older ones, but the shirt is blue. He hands me a white summer dress. “One of Sissy’s.’’ He tells me, “any underwear?’’ I question. He just sends an amusing smile and shakes his head. “That's a privilege, sweetheart.’’ Great; it wouldn’t have been bad if the dress wasn’t so short. If I bend over too far, I’ll flash my goods.

Johnny leads away to what seems to be his room. Everything is old and wooden; including a worn-out bed barely big enough for two people. He lays down on it and pats his side, signalling me to sit. I lay down on his bed as he sits up going in between my legs, pushing up my new dress. “I like the easy access.’’ He tells me right before sucking on my swollen clit. “Nnnnh.’’ I moan breathlessly finally having some relief. His two middle fingers slide in and set a steady pace. I spread my legs wider for him, still turned on from the shower fuck. He shoves his tongue flat against my nub, licking it up and down. I push his head further into me, thrusting against his face; this spurs him on as his fingers speed up. I cum on his face, my head thrown back, as my hands grip the sheets tight. I rut into him as he licks up all my juices.

Just when I thought we were done he thrusts his fingers back into me. I try to close my legs and wiggle away from the overstimulation but Johnny forces them open. He lets out a deep chuckle at the tears rolling out my eyes, I clench on his thick fingers as he puts his thumb on my sensitive clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I still hold onto the sheets while lifting up my hips, trying to chase my second release. He hears my needy whines and speeds up, swapping to his other thumb to rub my clit faster while his opposite hand continues finger fucking me. “Fuck, Johnny please don’t stop.’’ I beg him as I cum around his fingers. I gasp at the abruptness of my second orgasm. My legs shake from the intensity. Johnny pulls his hands away from me as I turn to the side, squeezing my legs trying to relieve the sensations.

He casually stands up walking to the desk across the room grabbing a cig, lighting it. Cig in mouth he undresses, getting ready bed. I watch him smoke, flicking the ashes in a tray on the desk. When I finally calm down he’s finished the cigarette, he turns of a lamp comes to lay down behind me, getting comfortable. He wraps one arm around my waist and helps me take of my dress letting it drop to the floor, So both of us now naked. “I'll set up a room for you soon; for now, you’ll stay with me.’’ He speaks softly. I try to get comfortable on the small bed wiggling slightly. “You keep moving like that and I’m going to fuck you again.” He threatens squeezing me tight. I freeze, too sensitive to test his patience.

“Hey Johnny?” I gently whisper his name. The only response I get is snoring, now left with no distractions I go back to my thoughts. I feel guilty knowing I’ve been enjoying Johnny’s company too much, I shouldn’t feel this comfortable with him but the more he cuddles into me the more my eyes feel heavy, I start to fall sound asleep in the arms of a killer.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #smut #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre #fanfiction #tcm fanfic #johnny slaughter fanfic #Texas Chainsaw massacre fanfiction #fanfic

178 notes · View notes

modelbus · 5 months

Note

It says that your requests are open so here goes nothing.

I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS THEY ARE SO AMAZING LIKE MWH OU ARE THE DEFINITION OF AN AUTHOR 💗💗

So basically could you do a Tommyinnit x reader (I love molly guys <3) and like the reader has Tourette’s syndrome? And like on of their tics is that they say like ‘fuck you’ or ‘piss off’ and just really offensive stuff but they can’t control it (obviously). So Tommy shows them for the first time on his stream as his partner and people like hate them because of how they are ‘acting weird’ or ‘being rude’. (Also can there be a service dog with the name Kai? Also can he be an Autrilian Shepard? If not that’s fine :])

If you can thank you :) (you can call me lulu if you want)

I tried my best to be as accurate as possible, and I did my own research into some things, but if there's anything I messed up please tell me and I will fix it immediately! I had no idea people could get service dogs for Tourettes so I did some research into tasks and such too.

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Gn!Reader

Ticked Tics

"Are you sure you want me on your stream?" You can't help but ask, leg nervously bouncing.

Tommy, your ever-so-patient boyfriend, was thrilled when you agreed to show up for one of his streams. "Just one" he had claimed, and you had given in nearly immediately. But now that you're seconds away, sitting in a chair next to him while his starting soon screen is up, you're having second thoughts. Not about your own social anxiety, but about what might happen for him if your Tourette's acts up.

It's been a pretty mild day so far, which is why you felt good agreeing to go on stream in the first place. But as your anxiety builds, you find yourself involuntarily having tics. Head jerking to the side as your shoulder jerks up, inches away from colliding with each other, is one you do most often and it's one you're repeatedly doing now.

"Of course!" He assures you. "They'll love you. I mean, I love you so they have to or else I'll ban them all."

“Sounds a bit like a dictatorship, Tom.”

“I am a dick-tay-tor!” He exclaims, purposefully separating the word.

“Eat shit.” You chirp immediately, paired with two middle fingers. Immediately after you shoot him an apologetic look. “Sorr—“

“I will eat shit, thank you.” He responds pleasantly.

It’s a thing he does sometimes; responding to your tics. In a way it makes you feel better, less like it’s genuinely annoying him. Your apologetic look turns into laugh.

“Ready?” He asks you, hovering over the OBS scene to switch into his camera.

You lower your hand, holding it out parallel to the floor to your side. Within seconds a warm and furry creature pushes its head up into your hand. You send a smile to your service dog, Kai, running a hand through the white fur on top of his head. Expensive as hell, but you love him.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Let’s do this.”

Tommy clicks over the scene change, leaning back in his chair and clapping his hands. “Welcome to the stream boys!” He yells out.

Kai worms his head into your lap, blue eyes staring up at you while his tail wags softly. He’s a cuddler, especially when it comes to you getting anxious in order to calm you down.

“Now we have a special guest.” Tommy waves his hand dramatically, faking holding a microphone out to you. “Introduce yourself, special guest.”

”Oh, piss off.” The second the words are out of your mouth, you dig your nails into your palm. Fuck. Kai licks at your hand until you open it, letting him set his head on your palm.

“Wise words.” Tommy nods. “So, everyone, this is my partner! You all thought it couldn’t be done, but I’m so hot and attractive.”

He pauses for a second, looking over at his second monitor where the chat is pulled up. It’s scrolling through messages fast, making you look away before you get a headache.

“Hi.” You say awkwardly to the stream. "That's me."

“Today I was going to tell you all a little story! You’re all my little bitty children, gathering around for a bedtime story.”

“It’s, like, 4.” You point out to him.

“Schematics! And I brought you along because you were there during this story, so you can chime in!” He leans over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders to shake you a bit. You laugh, playfully swatting his hands away.

“Yeah yeah.” Even with the camera and the stream, this is still Tommy. Your Tommy. “This is the pigeon story, right?”

He nods. “It was a dark and dreary night—buzz word guys!—when I stumbled upon the pigeon.”

“Very dark, very dreary.” You agree.

It was actually broad daylight when this had happened, but who cares?

“And I was just living my life, very casually—“

“Fuck you!”

Despite your tic, Tommy continues talking. Used to it, and knowing he doesn’t need to respond. “—waking down the street with my partner here. As I do, right? Walking around like a normal person.”

He keeps talking, parts of the story true then other parts outlandishly wild. You don’t correct the lies, finding it funnier than you probably should.

You let your attention drift to Kai, who has apparently decided to weasel his way halfway into your lap. Your hands brush past his soft ears, losing focus. When you turn back to Tommy, he’s about halfway through his story.

“And then I said—“

“Fuck you!”

“No.” He deadpans. “Come on, don’t you remember?” Tommy laughs. Not in a cruel way like people have laughed at you before, but in a joking way. A way that implies you’re in on the joke with him.

“What part are we even at?” You laugh.

“The bread seller. The sketchy one. Oh! And he smelled, chat. Like… like what I think Sapnap would smell like.”

On a knee-jerk reaction, you raise your hand, fully ready to just bonk the desk with your fist. Before you can, Tommy’s hand darts out, catching your wrist and holding steady until you can uncurl your fingers from the fist.

“Sorry.” You murmur, hopefully quiet enough that the stream doesn’t pick it up.

“No worries.”

You lean back in your chair, watching him explain things to chat. He’s far more animated than normal, making it almost endearing to watch.

Eyes sliding over to chat, you realize it’s slowed down a bit so you can read it. You have to double read several messages, heart stopping.

“Anyone else think Tommy’s partner is rude af rn???”

“His partner lowkey an asshole…”

“run while u can Tommy!!”

“they’re so fucking weird XD”

“Omg THATS his partner”

“bro got the shittiest partner fr fr”

Kai barks sharply, making you jump. Tommy spins towards you immediately, looking at Kai first.

“Yeah?” He asks the dog, before looking to you. Tommy studies you for a second, then his eyes flick to the chat. “Emote only for a second guys.”

Well, fuck.

Kai had barked, pretty loudly, and not for no reason. As one of his tasks he was trained to alert to possible tic attacks, detecting the hormone change before even you could. He was also trained to help calm you down and help with the tic attack, but detection was first.

And of course Tommy knew what it meant, and of course he knew why. He knew you too well, a fact you loved him for and also sometimes hated him for.

“Chat, I’m seeing some negativity here. None of that in my stream, and none of that towards my partner is allowed.” He raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for silent permission to tell the stream. You nod. “They have Tourette’s, so just fucking piss off about giving ‘em shit for their tics.”

He pauses, and you realize a moment too late he’s letting you explain what the hell Tourettes and tics are.

“Um, for those who don't know, Tourette's is a neurological thing which causes involuntary tics." You explain, albiet a bit awkwardly. But Tommy nods, smiling at you.

"And Kai is here. Can we show Kai to the stream? Stream, say hi to Kai the service dog!"

You click your tongue, calling for Kai even though he's right next to you. "C'mere Kai!" He practically clambers into your lap to suffocate you.

"Oh, God, Kai-" You yelp.

Tommy is of no help, too busy laughing. After a second he guides Kai off of you, leaving you to spit out dog hair.

"So yeah, there's that. Now that everyone has stopped being dickheads, back to my very important story."

You reach forward, taking a drink of Tommy's coke to clear your mouth of any dog fur you might've accidentally ingested. Australian Shepards, although cute, have so much fur.

"Am I going to pay attention to the fact my partner is choking on dog hair?" Tommy asks rhetorically. "No, I'm not. Continuing."

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #tommy innit #tommy mcyt #tommyinnit imagine

101 notes · View notes

lostlegendaerie · 10 months

Text

Fuck it! US Private Student Loans Guide!

DISCLAIMER: while I have worked in private loans specifically for five+ years, this isn't ‘financial’ advice and is just a heavily summarized guide on how to navigate them. Yes, these loans suck, but complain to your legislators not me. I’m just trying to help you know what you’re doing. Additional info for each section is under the cut!

1) Who are you and who are all the companies constantly running around with my money?

I work in loan SERVICING, which is basically the billing department. If you’ve got a new company asking you for money, it's probably a new servicer and your debt is still owned by the bank. We enforce the terms in the promissory note, the document you sign telling the bank “yeah I'll play by your rules if you give me the money.” If your loan defaults, you’ll get contacted by a third (fourth?) party, but how that works is beyond my wheelhouse. The bank or your servicer should be able to confirm what happens in case of default.

2) What am I looking for in a ‘good’ loan?

Generally, you’re going to want SIMPLE instead of compound interest, a FIXED RATE opposed to a variable one, and you’ll want to go for FULL DEFERMENT while in school and make manual payments when you can. Also ask up front about stuff like if disability forgiveness or co-signer release (getting your parents off it) is offered.

3) This loan sucks! How do I make it better?

Student loans are NOTORIOUSLY hard to get out of, unfortunately. If the interest rate/payment relief options suck, you can try to REFINANCE where you take out a new loan to pay off the old one. This gives you a new promissory note, interest rate, and terms/conditions. If you’re trying to erase the debt entirely, ask for the promissory note (if they can't provide a copy, we have to forgive the debt. I've only seen this happen ONCE.) or try to go through social security disability.

DO NOT USE FREEDOM DEBT RELIEF OR OTHER SERVICES. DO NOT. THEY ARE SCAMS.

More in depth information for each point!

1) Lenders and Servicers

The lender is the person who provides the funds in the debt - the bank who pays the school or the hospital or the home contractor fixing your sink. The servicer is the company that is your point of contact when you need to make payments, ask for payment relief, or otherwise manage the loan that exists. Think of us as the mechanic (we keep the car running) where the bank is the manufacturer (they make the car). Some different servicers are SoFi, Zuntafi, Great Lakes, Nelnet and Firstmark Services; their names will be on the billing statements. Some different banks are Citizens, US Bank, NorthStar; their names will be on the promissory note and the disclosures.

Sometimes banks do sell the debt, however! A couple years ago Wells Fargo sold an enormous chunk of their loans off somewhere (an investment group, maybe?) but! The promissory note will still be the EXACT same if your debt gets sold. You’ll only get a new promissory note if you refinance the loan yourself.

2a) Interest Accrual and Rates

Interest is how banks profit off the loans they give out and/or ‘ensure they don't end up with a loss if the loan defaults’. (It's profit.) Most, but not all, loans calculate interest with the simple daily interest formula, shown below:

[(Current loan balance) x (interest rate)] divided by 365

If your loan’s balance is $10,000 and your interest rate is 6% you’ll be charged $1.64 each day. SIMPLE INTEREST means that this interest just kind of floats around on the account until a payment comes in and pays it off, where COMPOUND adds that interest to the balance at the end of the month/day/whatever. Compound charges you more over the life of the loan.

FIXED INTEREST is a set percent that doesn't change, where VARIABLE will change usually based on whatever the economy is doing. There’s a minimum and maximum value to the variable interest rates, so if you’re doing a variable ASK WHAT THE MINS AND MAXES ARE. A fixed rate might be 8% and a variable might be 3.25% the day you take it out, but that variable could have a maximum interest rate of 25% so be VERY, VERY CAREFUL. If you get stuck in a real bad variable interest rate, your best solution is probably a refinance.

2b) Deferment and Payment Allocation

So interest is gonna be accruing on your loan from the day the money leaves the bank. Sucks. And you may not be able to make payments while you're in school, so opting to DEFER your payments will stop them from billing you so you can skip a month or whatever without penalty. At the END of that deferment, though, whatever interest that accrued will be added to your current balance. If we use the example from above (10k loan with 1.64 daily interest) four years of school will add $2,400 to your balance and then your daily interest will jump up to $2.03 a day.

Solution? Make payments of what you can while you’re in school to chip away at that floating interest. Usually when you make a payment, it’s gonna go towards the interest first and then the rest drops the balance. (E.g. if you make a $20.00 payment ten days after your loan is disbursed, $16.40 will go towards interest and $3.60 towards your 10k balance). There is NO PENALTY for making extra payments or making early payments, but it might make your bills look a little weird if you’re being billed each month for just the interest.

3) Why are these loans so horrible? Can’t I find anything to help me?

Blame Reagan and the republicans who enabled him.

No, but really. The problem with these loans is that those promissory notes are VERY legally binding and have lots of fine print in there designed to make it as hard as possible for someone to skimp out on their debt without having their credit score decimated. Some lenders might even dip into your paychecks if you're crazy behind or default; again, that's not my wheelhouse and I've only maybe seen that once. Your best bet is just to pay it off as fast as possible (again, no penalty for paying the loan off early) or refinance into better terms.

And I get it. I really do. I hate how we’ve made so many incredibly important things in our society locked behind a paywall that charges poor people more to climb than the rich. But if you’ve made it this far, please don't turn your anger at me for not giving you the answers you want. The best I can do is vote for people who are willing to crack down on predatory lending, keep fighting for student loan forgiveness… and at my own job, make sure that my coworkers aren't making mistakes.

If you have a more specific question, I can try to answer as best I can without breaking any information privacy laws. And take care, okay? You are never fighting alone.

#private loans #student loans #school loans #loan forgiveness #long post #credit score #credit services #debt relief #debt consolidation #I spent like two weeks off and on with this PLEASE REBLOG but also PLEASE BE NICE

184 notes · View notes

redahlia-writes · 11 months

Text

be still my foolish heart. | joel miller

Abstract: He still felt unsure, unsteady, both wanting to keep her at arm’s length and welcoming her back in his life like before, drown in the comfort he’d found in her presence year after year since they were kids. She’d tried to reassure him, and he knew she was right–you could not live in the world they did and not change. But he remembered her in pigtails on the first day of school, he remembered her prom dress being awfully 80s, and he remembered the first time he’d seen her with Sarah–gentle voiced and wide eyed, holding her as if she might shatter should she breathe a little too hard.

Words: 9.7k

Content: f!reader (called “sugar” as a nickname, described as shorter than joel); childhood friends to lovers, mentions of child’s death, grief, mentions of attempted suicide, PTDS, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, this was supposed to be about joel and sugar but there’s a lot of joel/ellie too. a lot, idiots in love, slow(ish) burn, ellie being a loving little shit, canon divergence (they get to jackson and don’t leave but i never explain why), some very minor spoilers for tlou2, purple prose, unedited

A/N: loosely inspired by almost (sweet music) by hozier; the song they listen to is night and day and can be found in ella fitzgerald sings the cole porter song book (1956).

also on AO3 - masterlist

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

Ellie had never seen a deer in headlights, only saw pictures of the creatures and heard the expression every now and then from older people.

She imagined the way Joel looked in that moment was what they meant.

Frozen still, eyes wide and lips parted, even holding his breath if the lack of condensation by his face was any indicator, Joel stood next to his brother with his back straight, the only indication he hadn’t suddenly turned into a piece of rock the light twitch in his right hand.

There’s someone you should see, Tommy had told him, half a day after they’d gotten to Jackson–they’d had time to eat and leave the few stuff they still had in the house, and right before she could hit the shower Tommy had walked in. Not keen on the idea of being left alone, Ellie had followed the Millers quietly. Joel had even teased her about it.

“Who’s the quiet one now?” she’d huffed at Joel’s sudden immobility. Tommy had looked at her with that half grin that she imagined Joel must’ve had, too, at some point, and then lifted his arm to wave a hand in the direction of a small group by the school. A woman pulled her head up, a green woolen hat low on her brow, and then waved back, a smile visible even from there. “Anyone you know?” she asked, looking back at Joel.

He still did not bat an eye.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she exclaimed, extricating herself from the rest of the group with a quick apology. “Joel Miller,” she called, the name rolling with a certain familiarity out of her mouth as she approached them, brushing some snow from her coat.

“Sugar?” the word came out strangled–his mouth was dry, the ground unstable beneath him. Suddenly, he wasn’t 56 anymore but 16 years old, and around him a shitty classroom that could do with some fixing, or an all too familiar living room, a cluttered bedroom with dark walls–and the smile he was offered had not changed a bit.

“Sugar?” Ellie echoed, a little baffled. Her eyes darted towards the girl, a glint of curiosity.

“Only one who still called me that after we left high-school,” the woman chuckled, stepping forward with her arms open. “Come on, c’mere–it’s been too long.”

Joel hesitated–when was the last time he’d hugged someone? Maybe Tess, though he could not remember when, but that had always been more a clinging-to-each-other type of thing. A hug, that was different, and he felt stuck on the spot all over again.

Before he could overthink it too much, Ellie pushed him forward, making him grunt in protest as he almost fell into the woman’s embrace–he wrapped his arms around her, the movement somewhat foreign, and slowly leaned into it. Despite the cold and snow, she was warm underneath all the layers of clothing she donned, and smelled of freshly cut grass. It reminded him of another time, and if he closed his eyes he could almost see it. He exhaled.

“You stink, Miller–how long have you been out there?” she laughed softly, one hand cupping the back of his head, same way she used to when they were younger. He remembered dancing.

“A while,” he admitted, unable to argue with that, easing into the embrace furthermore. “Sorry,” he added, and she patted his shoulder gently, another delicate chuckle that rang crystalline to his ears.

“I’ve had it worse, it’s alright,” she murmured, chin hooked over his shoulder–he could feel her straining to stand on her tiptoes, slightly unbalanced, and lowered himself against her, face buried in the curve of her neck wrapped by a soft scarf that matched the hat. She sighed softly at the movement, her fingertips scratching across his scalp. “God, it’s good to see you.”

“You, too,” voice slightly muffled and blind to the world, Joel was able to admit that. Maybe it was nostalgia, making him forget everything else for a few moments as he lingered in the peacefulness of that familiar touch, or maybe it was exhaustion, blurring the edges between who he used to be and who he was now.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” she whispered then, and it felt like ice through his veins. He pulled back slightly, the urge to run away making his limbs tremble–but she kept him caged in, the arm around his shoulders stronger than he remembered (was he tired? Was he too out of it?), and the hand that had brushed his hair falling to his cheek, brushing away some of the grime he’d grown used to by then.

But it was her gaze that kept him rooted, though, that softness he didn’t think could still exist in the world they lived in, and emotions he had almost forgotten, ignoring them each time they presented themselves–it’d be too risky to feel them, too easy to surrender to it again: sorrow, grief. It cut his breath all over again.

“Tommy told me,” she kept her voice low, her touch gentle, rubbing her thumb across his uneven beard. The bustling in the air was foreign after so many months of quiet, and he wasn’t sure which one made his body ache–the current life, or the past death.

“Of course he did,” he scoffed, and her expression shifted, a reprimand in her gaze that used to make him laugh when they were younger, and furthermore when she grew into that same expression, year after year of standing together.

“Joel,” she chided, still soft-voiced, still attempting to comfort him through that small motion on his face. He remembered that touch and kind, encouraging words with a baby in his arms; he remembered his name called out through laughter–hers, his daughter’s; he remembered winters and summers and years before that. He closed his eyes, a furrow in his brow.

“No, of course he did,” he exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “Sorry, it’s just–she really liked you, you know?” his eyes remained closed, trying to push back the pressure building behind his eyelids, trying to swallow the knot in his throat.

“I know,” he felt her nod, press herself closer just as her name was called from behind them. When he looked up at her again, her eyes were shimmering, that vulnerability he hadn’t had the courage to show again after the ringing in his right ear had stopped. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, bringing her other hand to his face, too, holding him like that. He nodded, afraid that if he spoke right away he would crumble.

All it had taken was a gentler touch, and he was ready to fall apart.

“You oughta go–looks like you’re needed,” he cleared his throat, the damn knot clinging to his larynx seemingly impossible to push away. She looked over her shoulder, the group she was with before waving her over, and sighed before turning back towards him.

They still hadn’t let go of each other, and neither seemed willing to make the first move.

“I’m expecting you all for dinner,” she spoke a little louder then, turning her head as if to look past Joel’s shoulder but without moving her gaze from him. “Alright, Tommy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the younger Miller called, his eyes returning to the pair after having wandered elsewhere for the duration of their reunion–the most privacy that could be given in that context. Ellie hadn’t been as subtle, her head tilted and a curious look in her eyes at the sudden burst of emotion that seemed to roll off Joel’s back. It was astounding.

In the end, she was the first to depart, a kiss to Joel’s cheek that seemed to melt away what little tension was left in him. He stumbled back as she walked towards the group, one last look over her shoulder that ended up being directed towards Ellie, a quick smile and small wave she returned, somewhat unsure.

“I felt the same way,” Tommy rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder, as if to shake him from the haze that seemed to have permeated him thoroughly.

“She been here long?” he was frowning again, forcing his gaze away from the back of her head to look at Tommy. The younger Miller nodded a couple of times.

“Even before I got here,” he said, slowly beginning to lead him away, Joel seemingly rooted to the spot once more. “You know Sugar, she’s always been a step ahead of us,” he added, and in his murmur there was a fond smile.

“Sugar?” Ellie repeated, her eyebrows arched with her returned bafflement.

“Just a stupid nickname,” Joel muttered, shaking himself off in a way that seemed more a recoil–he turned and cleared his throat. “Old nickname. Don’t even know who came up with it in school. It stuck.”

“For you it stuck,” Tommy was smiling, clearly amused. They seemed so different, Ellie thought. Had they always been like that? She wondered if she could ask her. “Pure irony, really,” Tommy continued, addressing her. “She always fought people–a real spitfire.”

“You only say that because you got slapped,” Ellie’s eyebrows arched furthermore at Joel’s scoff, a tint of amusement in his words.

“And you,” the younger Miller retorted, making Ellie’s lips part.

“Oh, I like her,” she exclaimed, turning to look at her–she was back at work, the scarf now covering the lower part of her face, though she could still hear her laughter ring clear.

A week later, they stood in her living room.

Though they’d met again around town after that first day, it had taken both Joel and Ellie a moment to settle in. The house felt odd for them both–Ellie having never had one, Joel not remembering his old one. It helped that she lived just around the corner, and in the morning he’d see her walk by to head towards the center.

Slowly, he found a routine, found a way to make himself useful, and leaned into it. Ellie was wilder, refusing to go to school and spending most of her time in her bedroom, Walkman constantly on as she went through pages and pages of old diaries, old books.

“Wanna come to this thing with me?” was the only thing he asked her that night–they threaded carefully around each other, murmured confessions before he sent her to bed at night (the only thing he was firm with, leaving her her space otherwise). It wasn’t time that did it, Ellie’s head resting on his shoulder as she fiddled with the new record he’d found for her. When I got bit in the mall I wasn’t on my own, Riley’s name bitter on her tongue.

“What thing?” Joel’s hair was slicked back, a new shirt Tommy had gotten for him along with his jacket. He actually looked put together, which was the reason why Ellie sat up quickly. “Are you going to Sugar’s?”

“Stop calling her that,” he muttered, though it was the only way he ever referred her as–old habits, he thought. “Yeah–Tommy and Maria are gonna be there too, we’re all adults so if–”

“Let’s go,” she hopped up.

And so they were in her living room, scarcely decorated but recognisable as hers nonetheless, and Ellie walked around the place with a curious gaze, hands fidgeting at her sides.

“How did you convince her to come here?” Maria asked quietly, as the three of them waited for the lady of the house–she had categorically refused any help in the kitchen, ordering them to wait by the set table. Old habits, Joel thought again.

“I didn’t,” he shrugged, watching the kid linger at a picture set in a cracked frame, the dance of her fingers ceasing for just a moment. “I think she likes her–probably has to do with the slapping stories.”

“Definitely has to do with the slapping stories,” Tommy chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Ellie asked, without turning to look at them. “Actually–him I can understand,” Joel scowled at Ellie’s remark while she pointed at him, spinning around to face the three of them. “But why did she hit you?” Maria chuckled at that, while Tommy almost choked on his drink and his face burned a brighter shade of red.

“Ah, well, I–” he cleared his throat–it was another time, he thought. So many years before. “I–kind of made a move on her. And then told her I was gonna join the army,” he rubbed his jaw, some sort of nervous twitch as he glanced in a grinning Maria’s direction. “Still not sure which one pissed her off more.”

“The army,” she said, coming into the living room while holding a fuming pot she was quick to place on the table. Joel’s posture changed, a slight shift towards her by the head of the table and his head twisting so that his gaze would be on her, the ghost of a smile across his lips. “If one of you was going to be a self-sacrificing idiot and leave, I expected that to be Joel.”

“You shipped yourself off to college,” Tommy protested as they sat down–Joel remained next to her on left, Ellie next to him (she didn’t like being on his deaf side, but she preferred it to sitting away), Tommy and Maria on the other side.

“Definitely not the same thing,” she wrinkled her nose in a half-grimace, plating up the food–whatever it was, Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d smelled something so good, her stomach already grumbling. Tommy scoffed lightly, passing on the plates.

“Wait, you made a move? If anything I thought–” before Ellie could finish the sentence, Joel pinched her leg, making her yelp and turn to him wide-eyed. “What the hell was that for?”

“Manners,” he muttered–at the corner of his eye, the woman tried to fight off a smile, setting the last plate in front of him. “Eat your food.”

She looked at the older Miller and the kid throughout the dinner and the chats, the scowls and grins, his reprimands and her sharp tongue. It was a familiar scene, late dinners stolen in a living room she once knew like it was her own.

The younger brother leaving early on was familiar, too, Maria tiring easily from the pregnancy and Tommy refusing to leave her side for longer than necessary–her heart ached at the thought of Tommy Miller having grown up, until it functioned as a reminder that growing up in their world now meant surviving. It was easier to think of it like that.

“Just means you’re gonna have to come back for dessert,” she said as Maria hugged her, winking in Tommy’s direction, too.

“We should get going, too,” Joel cleared his throat once it was just the three of them, heading for the rack where his and Ellie’s jacket hung. She had the fleeting thought that he was trying to avoid being alone with her–though they weren’t really alone–as he had for the whole week. A quick greeting and then away, never lingering too much around her. She figured it was because he was still settling in–hoped that was the reason, in spite of the years gone by.

“But I want dessert!” the girl protested, still sat at the table (by herself).

“Ellie,” he sighed heavily, not turning to look at her as picked up her coat.

“Joel,” she retorted in the same tone, unmoving. The woman looked between the two of them with an eyebrow arched, fighting the smile off of her lips the moment Joel sighed again, head falling forward. It wasn’t needed, but Ellie took it a step further, softening her voice for a, “Please?”

Joel Miller had always had a hard time saying no to his daughter. Guess things hadn’t changed that much.

“If we’re bothering–” he started, his gaze flicking from Ellie to her.

“Oh, quit that, Miller,” she scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Ellie, grab your plate, come,” Joel remained frozen for a moment as the girl beamed, standing with the plate in her hands and quickly following her towards the kitchen. A beat, and then he went after them, bringing with him the rest of the dirty dishes they’d left behind.

“What is that?” Ellie had stopped abruptly at the entrance of the kitchen, eyes wide, forcing Joel to walk around her at the last moment, stumbling towards the woman who was placing a tray onto the counter. He lingered a moment, his gaze following the twisted pattern made of golden dough, and once more he felt transported back ages in time.

“My mama’s apple pie,” she said gently, a smile grazing her face–there was a bitterness to it, too, with the realization that that was probably the first time Ellie saw one outside of pictures. “We produce the flour ourselves, and have the dogs check it for possible contamination, so it’s safe,” Joel could almost see the hope in her eyes in trying to reassure the kid, grabbing the knife and offering it to her by the handle. “Wanna have a go?”

Ellie’s eyes shimmered with excitement as she took the sharp knife, getting closer to her–she leaned with one arm on the counter, while with the other hand she showed her where to start, mimicking the movement of cutting down towards the crust. As he placed the dirty dishes in the sink, Joel inhaled deeply, the perfume coming out of the still warm filling in fumes.

“Jesus,” he muttered with a soft groan, turning around quickly. Ellie stilled, her gaze flickering from where she held the knife up to him, then back to the grinning woman who was looking at him, too. “Sorry.”

“You know, your–” she stopped herself, clearing her throat before straightening her back. “Joel would always know when we made this at my place. I don’t know how but he did–never failed to show up when my mama got one in the oven.”

“Sixth sense,” Joel chuckled, getting closer as well, his mouth already watering. “Smells just like then,” he mumbled, shifting on the spot when she bumped her hip against him, her smile widening. “You know, Sarah wanted to call you to bring it over, before–” he cut himself off.

Ellie shuffled on the spot, the knife in her hand a sudden weight she didn’t like–Joel had mentioned just in passing Sarah to her, admitting first and foremost to her existence, half-joking over their differences. But whenever he did his eyes would go unfocused, gaze dropping to the broken watch.

She watched as the woman pressed herself slightly closer, hand brushing the back of Joel’s, right up to the cracked watch before she even looked up, the movement seemingly enough to draw Joel’s attention towards her; she watched as the man cleared his throat, right hand twitching before he exhaled, pulling back as if in afterthought, reaching for the cupboard; she watched Sugar’s head drop slightly, and then straighten again with a forced smile in her direction. Ellie returned it tentatively.

“Alright, kiddo–it’s best when it’s warm,” she encouraged, taking the knife from her as Joel returned with clean plates. She deposited the slice on one, pushing it in Ellie’s direction. “Too bad we haven’t got any ice cream, tastes even better with that.”

“Can’t miss what I never tried, right?” Ellie shrugged, that crooked smile still on. “Thanks,” she added then, stepping away, back towards the living room. She’d started to learn when others needed space.

“Joel,” his name whispered was like a bucket of ice water thrown in his face, a shuddering breath leaving him when he turned to look at her. Her head was slightly tilted, a soft gaze that tethered on mournful. Joel didn’t want pity. He wanted so much, but not pity.

“Can’t,” he said through gritted teeth. Her hand reached for him again, slower, fingers brushing his knuckles as they whitened with the clench of his fists above the counter. “Sugar, I can’t,” he repeated, looking down. She pressed her palm over the back of his hand, a firm knead to unfurl his fingers from where they pushed into his own palm, blunt nails still leaving their mark. He shook his head.

“It’s just me,” she kept her voice low, soft.

Tommy had told her a lot–the whole of it, really. Sarah’s death. Joel’s attempt. The shift in him–the shift in them both, but mostly Joel. The anger. The bad, awful things they’d done. The anger, the only thing Joel seemed to have felt for the past 20 years.

It nearly broke her heart.

“I know,” his eyes flickered towards the door leading to the living room, Ellie’s head peeking from behind the backrest of the armchair. “You haven’t changed one bit, but I–”

“That’s not true,” she shook her head, scooting closer. “I have. Everybody has. We had to,” curling her fingers around his hand, she slowly picked it up, bringing it closer to her. There were calluses on her fingers he didn’t remember from the years before, lines across her face he thought were a trick of the light. “You think you lost your humanity when Sarah died, but that’s not true,” she tilted her head towards the living room, gaze flickering to Ellie, the scrape of the fork against the plate the only sound coming from her. “She’s proof of that. You must see that.”

“She was a job,” his hand felt cold in hers, fingers twitching slightly. Each time, she squeezed it softly, bringing it closer to her stomach. He could feel her warmth even like that.

“She was,” she nodded in agreement, shifting so she could meet his gaze. “And now?”

“It’s complicated,” he returned, and a bittersweet smile grazed her lips.

“You always saw things as more complicated than they actually were,” she let go of him, and Joel clenched his hand suspended mid-air in her direction, while she turned towards the counter, taking the knife up again to cut two more slices of pie and plate them. “Perhaps you’re not exactly your old self, but you’re still almost you, no matter what you tell yourself, Joel,” she pushed one of the plates in his direction, glancing at him once more. “Eat up.”

Joel had a hard time breathing. It happened less frequently–it had been weeks since his last episode, he’d almost forgotten about it–but it still did, every now and then. He hated it.

He wasn’t sure what triggered it: he wasn’t doing anything specific, was just thinking about how to fix the creaky step that led up and down his patio, when all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe and his chest ached, right in the middle, like a weight trying to pin him down against the ground–but the ground didn’t feel stable, and he had to lean against the wall for support while everything spun around him.

Worst of all was the ringing in his ears. He’d gotten used to the muffled sounds in his right ear, and the sudden high pitched noise made him dizzy, made his vision waiver, made him unable to exhale. The next breath scratched at his throat, like a badly chewed bite refusing to go down, no matter how many times he tried to swallow.

“Dad?” he gasped, the town suddenly in front of him again. The edges were still blurred, but right in front of him stood Ellie–a few steps behind, Sugar had her head tilted, a curious gaze in her eyes.

“What?” his voice rang still distant, somehow, and he shook his head, trying to clear the clouds away.

“I said are you alright?” Ellie frowned, getting a step closer. “Joel, are you going deaf in both ears?” she asked, and that melted away the tension in Joel’s shoulders with a sigh.

“Very funny,” he muttered, pushing himself off from the school wall. “I just got distracted, is all. You ready?” he cleared his throat, glancing briefly in the woman’s direction.

“You know you don’t have to come get me every day, right?” Ellie mumbled, moving at his side. “It’s not like I can run away,” Joel gave her a look–eyebrows arched, head slightly tilted, that same expression he used when Tommy said something dumb. Ellie could almost hear it.

You ran away from FEDRA and sneaked into a sealed mall. I wouldn’t put it past you.

Maybe he had a point.

“Bye, Ms. Sugar!” a girl called from behind them, dark hair pulled away from her freckled face. “Ellie, you coming?” she waited, expectantly. Ellie turned towards Joel, whose face had shifted into a simil-scowl.

“So that’s what you meant, huh?” he crossed his arms, to which Ellie responded with a lopsided grin, looking at him expectantly, the mute question clear in her eyes. Can I? “Wait, Ms. Sugar?” he turned to look at the woman who still stood there, and she snorted.

“Ask Ellie about it,” she retorted, clearly amused by the guilty look creeping across the girl’s face. “She’ll be right there, Dina!” she called out then, a little louder.

“I didn’t mean to, okay?” Ellie protested, with a small kick to the melting snow in front of her. “You call her that all the time–it just came out of my mouth,” she argued then, pointing at Joel.

“Are you blaming me for calling your teacher with a nickname?” he returned, baffled.

“Yes,” Ellie nodded. Behind Ellie, he saw her stifle a giggle, quick to lower her head and cover her mouth with a hand. The girl looked up at him still, eyes softening in a pleading motion. “Can I go?”

“Sure,” he sighed–the word was barely out of his mouth before Ellie was already darting away, running towards her smiling friend. “I’m sorry,” he said then, turning to her.

“It’s alright, Joel,” clearly amused, she shook her head and took a step closer to him, hands dropped at her sides. “Besides, I think only Dina heard her. Maybe Cat, too, but it’s no big deal,” she shrugged, standing right in front of him now. Joel tightened his grip around Ellie’s bag strap, lowering his gaze to her.

“She good?” he asked, a little quieter. “This Dina, she–”

“Yes, she’s a good kid,” she said with a smile and a small nod, tilting her head slightly. “You can rest easy, Mr. Miller,” at that, Joel snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Mr. Miller,” he mocked, to which her smile widened. “Haven’t been called that since I had to meet with Sarah’s teachers,” as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his expression fell slightly, gaze unfocused. He thought he was about to stop breathing again, when she placed her hand on his upper arm, pressing gently against the jacket sleeve.

“Joel,” with a whisper of his name, he snapped his eyes back up towards her–a worried crease crossed her forehead, knitting her brows closer. “What is it?”

She knew what it was. She’d seen it, in people younger and older than him; she’d felt it on her own skin, clawing at her throat in a desperate attempt to clear her airways. Hers had never been as immobile as Joel’s. She kicked and screamed and cried until she was spent and aching all over.

“Just–” he clicked his tongue and thought of lying.

He still felt unsure, unsteady, both wanting to keep her at arm’s length and welcoming her back in his life like before, drown in the comfort he’d found in her presence year after year since they were kids. She’d tried to reassure him, and he knew she was right–you could not live in the world they did and not change. But he remembered her in pigtails on the first day of school, he remembered her prom dress being awfully 80s, and he remembered the first time he’d seen her with Sarah–gentle voiced and wide eyed, holding her as if she might shatter should she breathe a little too hard.

“It’s like starting all over again with her–not sure if I’m doing right or wrong whenever I make a decision,” he admitted then, voice low–she got closer, gaze softening. He wanted to lean into her all of a sudden, but clenched his fists instead, the strap of Ellie’s bag digging in his palm. “I can’t disappoint her, can’t–I can’t fail her, too.”

“You didn’t fail anyone, Joel,” he almost disagreed, but the look she gave him didn’t leave room for any argument. He snapped his mouth shut. “It’s odd, adjusting to this place–I didn’t sleep properly for a year, flinched at every noise. When Maria asked me if I wanted to teach I thought she’d lost her mind,” she scoffed, shaking her head lightly. “And then I had my first full night of sleep. The kids and parents started waving at me in the streets. I ate food that hadn't expired 10 years ago. It’s–give yourself some time to adjust, Miller. Both of you.”

Joel exhaled, tipping his head slightly back and looking up towards the sky–it was sunny, mercifully, the cold starting to become bearable. He felt her shuffle forward rather than see her, eyelids fluttering when she rested her hand over his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Ellie’s doing good,” she reassured then, smiling when he looked back at her. “She’s–a little wild, maybe, but she feels safe here. With you. She’ll be alright,” head tilted slightly to the side, the scarf wrapped around her neck slipped–he almost reached up to fix it for her. “So will you.”

“You always knew what to say, didn’t you?” he sighed, turning his head a little–he felt her hand move from his shoulder to his upper arm, warmth spreading wherever her touch lingered. He leaned into it.

“Not really, most of the time I winged it,” she shrugged, and his smile returned, although tentative, while shaking his head. “How’d you think I made it through college?”

“Brains, Sugar,” without thinking too much about it, he reached up and pinched her chin, gently tilting her head back a little. “You’ve always had more brains than us combined. I think we both should’ve listened to you more.”

“Took you long enough to admit that,” she grinned, following the curve of his arm down to where his hand still brushed her face. She brushed her fingertips along the back of his hand, lingering at his knuckles. “It hurt to say it out loud, didn’t it?” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“No, actually. I’m quite alright,” her eyebrows arched, wrapping her fingers around his hand for balance before reaching for his forehead with her other one. Joel laughed then, taking one small step back to balance them both, eyes crinkling at the touch. “What are you doing?”

“Checking if you have a fever,” she replied, nonchalantly, shifting her hand over his temple, over his cheek. “God forbid this affects you physically,” she added in a mock whisper, unable to hide the amusement in her words. Still laughing, Joel let go of Ellie’s bag to reach up and grab her other hand.

“Alright, alright,” he pulled his head slightly back, holding their joined hands between them–she’d tipped forward, unbalanced, and he held her upright, looking back down towards her grinning face. “You’ve made your point. Thank you.”

“Good,” she chuckled. They remained like that a moment longer, simply looking at each other, before she cleared her throat and glanced quickly over her shoulder. “I should go. Gotta fix up the classroom or else Hell might just break loose tomorrow.”

“Right,” he let go of her, his palms tingling still. “Well, I–thank you, Sugar. I mean it.”

“I know you do,” expression softened again, she stepped back–they had barely realized how close they were. Joel missed it right away. “I’ll see ya, Miller.”

“Sure,” he murmured in return, one of the hands he’d kept lifted doing a half-wave as she turned around. He kept it up, gaze lingering on her back until she’d vanished back into the building.

“Damn,” he whipped around with his eyes wide, gaze immediately falling to Ellie at his side.

“What are you doing here?” he muttered, a quick look over his shoulder and then past Ellie’s head. “Language,” he added right away, making her snort.

“Didn’t know you could laugh,” she retorted, her eyebrows arched.

“That's bullshit, you’ve heard me before,” he frowned, and Ellie’s grin widened.

“Language,” she mocked him, making Joel scowl. “Sure I did, but it wasn’t like this.”

“Like what?” still frowning, he watched her shrug and point vaguely at him.

“This,” she repeated, then shrugged and grabbed her bag from the ground in front of him. “Anyways, I came back to get this. Bye.”

“Ellie!” he protested, though she was already skipping away. “Like what?”

Winter passed, and the first glimpses of Spring came to Jackson in the shape of flowers and fruit, an unfrozen ground giving them the first rewards. Ellie would spend more days outside with her friends, but every now and then she’d hang back with him, sitting on the porch while he tried to teach her how to play guitar.

“Now try the next one,” he nodded, after a while she’d been repeating the same three notes, a small melody she’d been practicing.

“I can’t do the next one,” she protested, keeping at it. Joel began to argue, but a movement at the corner of his eye made him turn around–with his good ear towards Ellie, he didn’t hear the woman’s steps until she was in his peripheral vision. He followed her with his gaze, head turning as she went–her hands were occupied by a large box, and when she noticed them she just smiled, but didn’t stop. “No, Ellie, don’t say that. You’re doing great. You can do it.”

“What?” he cleared his throat, snapping his head back around towards the kid. She was scowling, arms crossed over the guitar as he stared at him. “You are doing good. Go to the next one,” at that she rolled her eyes, lips parting with a scoff. “What?” he repeated.

“Will you quit being a stubborn ass?” Ellie groaned, lowering the guitar and leaning back into the seat. Joel’s eyebrows arched high, disbelief painted across his face.

“Watch your mouth, kid,” she scoffed again, tapping across the wood.

“Yeah, yeah,” she practically brushed him off. “But will you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel mimicked her, leaning back against the backrest and crossing his arms, his head twisting ever so slightly towards where he was looking before, towards her. A groan escaped her.

“Oh, please, you know perfectly well,” Joel frowned now, watching as Ellie pointed her finger in the woman’s direction–she was too far to see them, or hear them, but still Joel tapped against her extended hand. “You like her,” the girl said, bringing her hand back towards her chest. It was Joel’s turn to scoff.

“Yeah, I like her–we’ve been friends since we were kids,” he shrugged, then folded his arms across his chest once more. Ellie rolled her eyes again.

“No, I mean you like like her. Like you’re in love with her,” Joel snorted, shaking his head.

“What would you know about that?” despite the levity in Ellie’s tone, her face darkened for a moment–it had been a while since he’d seen that look in her eyes, and a pang of guilt shot through him right away. He shifted in his seat.

“I have eyes,” Ellie muttered, placing the guitar down to curl up in the chair, legs up to her chest and arms crossed. “Pretty sure the whole of Jackson knows. It’s obvious.”

“Ellie, we’ve known each other ages,” Joel sighed, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “If I had a problem I’d go to her, and if she had a problem she’d come to me. We’ve been there for each other during–” he cleared his throat, lowering his gaze, “most of the worst times of our lives.”

“And you’ve never–” she trailed off.

“No,” he shook his head with a light smile.

“Not even once?” again he shook his head. “Seriously?”

“Tommy had a crush on her,” he shrugged, and she straightened her back.

“So you thought about it, then,” she exclaimed. Joel dropped his head slightly with a sigh.

“I was a teenager once, you know,” she arched her brows. “She was nice, and she was my friend, and she was real pretty–but there are things that are more important than a crush.”

Ellie was quiet for a moment, leaning back down, her fingers tapping up and down her shins as she lowered her gaze, eyebrows pinched together.

“Did–did Sarah like her?” it had started to be easier, talking about her. While Joel still felt the hurt of her absence, the anger and disbelief of his grief had turned into quiet acceptance. Ellie would rarely ask questions about her, but he found it helped.

“She loved her,” he nodded, easing back into the chair. “There weren’t a lot of women in Sarah’s life, but she was there, especially when she needed it the most. And she did love Sarah back–so much,” a fond smile caught on his mouth.

“Yeah, I figured,” Ellie mumbled, tilting her head a little. “It’s her, isn’t it? In the picture with the cracked frame at her place.”

Joel had tried to not linger too much on that picture–Sarah was young in it, 3 or 4 maybe, a full head of curls sticking out on every side. He remembered fighting each day to try and fix it, and her laughing at his feeble attempts. She taught him first–simple hairstyles he could do in the mornings before dropping her off to school and that would survive the day ahead–and then Sarah herself for when she did not want to leave it as it was.

She’d been there for him and Sarah all the time, and he wasn't sure he’d thanked her nearly enough for it. When her mom left, when she started teething, walking, talking, on her first day of school, and every year after that, leaving campus to be at each game, each recital. Clothes, music, movies, all of it–she was always there.

“Yes,” he nodded, slowly. Ellie hummed.

“You should fix that for her,” she said then, standing almost abruptly. “Might be nice. It might also give you an excuse,” she added with a shrug.

“I don’t need an excuse, Ellie,” he sighed, picking the guitar from her. The girl shrugged again, then headed inside. “You’re going somewhere?”

“Cat’s!” she called from inside. Joel strummed a few slow notes, waiting for her to come back out–she did so rushing, jacket half-thrown on. “I still think I’m right. Bye!”

She glanced up from her handiwork when a step echoed a little louder over the gravel, her face immediately splitting in a wide smile and Joel’s half-still stance in the low streetlight.

“Knitting on the porch? That’s new,” he grinned, resuming walking towards her.

“If my mother could see me now, right?” she retorted with a chuckle he matched with a smile of his own, leaving the half-finished sweater aside to stand up. “Hi,” she said then, moving forward to the steps he was climbing.

“Hi,” he returned, stopping one step down so they were at the same level. He brought his hands forward from behind his back, the previously cracked frame and picture within, his gaze lingering on Sarah’s smile a moment longer. “Fixed it for ya.”

“Oh,” she looked over her shoulder, towards the slightly ajar door as if to look at the spot it had been resting. “You didn’t–thank you,” she said, carefully picking it from him.

“Sure,” he shrugged lightly, burying his now empty hands in his pockets. “Thought I’d just stop by,” he added, shuffling slightly. Her smile widened.

“You know you don’t need an excuse to just stop by, right?” she turned around, gesturing at him to follow as she headed inside, lingering at the entrance to place the picture right back where it belonged.

“I know,” he mumbled, lingering at the threshold. One of his guitars was in the living room, resting against the armchair Ellie had curled up in and ended up falling asleep on during the first time they’d gone over. The last time, he’d forgotten the instrument, after Tommy had insisted vehemently he should’ve brought it with him.

“I meant to bring that over,” she said, catching him looking at it. “I saw you teaching Ellie,” she added, pinching one string as she passed by it before heading to the kitchen.

“Yeah, tryin’ to,” Joel followed, fingertips tingling stuffed in his pockets. “She’s good.”

“Better than I was?” she returned with two glasses filled with amber liquid and a grin on her face. “Sweet tea–I got some of the first lemons.”

“Baking, making sweet tea, knitting,” he picked the cool glass from her with a grateful look–the simple act of holding it gave him back another piece of home he thought was gone forever. It had happened quite a few times since they’d found each other again. “You’re turning into your mother, Sugar.”

The woman snorted, rolling her eyes as she stepped away, and Joel was quick to hide his smirk behind the rim of the glass.

“I’ll pretend that was a compliment, Miller,” she squinted in his direction, mock-menacingly.

“C’mon, you know I loved your mother,” he argued before taking a sip–he hummed softly, eyes shutting on instinct. If he focused, he could hear the fire crackling and water bubbling over the stove as her mother made it, could taste the sugar and lemon or peaches she’d slip them in the meantime. He sighed. “I’ll tell you what–your talents clearly reside in this, not that,” he added, pointing towards the guitar. She laughed again.

“Well, I’d rather listen to the music than play it,” she declared, her chin tilted upwards, a grin mimicking his own. Then her eyes widened, a shimmer in them as she jolted on the spot, quickly resting the glass down on the table. “I’ve gotta show you something!”

A small frown knitted his brow as he licked the sweetness from his mouth and followed her with his gaze, hurried steps towards the bedroom that echoed in the quiet of the home. She was gone a few minutes, returning after a moment of rattling, a wide smile spread across her face. Joel’s eyes fell to the object in her hands–a portable CD player, not so different from the one she’d gifted Sarah in the 90s but they always ended up stealing once she was asleep.

“Audio is not the best, to be fair, but after so many years without music–” she stopped in front of him, offering one of the earphones to him while she put the other one in.

Still frowning lightly, Joel shuffled closer, the short cord forcing him forward. The drum arrived first, the sound slightly scratched, and with her smile widening she looked up at him. Like the beat beat beat of the tom-tom, he chuckled as she freed his hands, rocking from one side to the other following the rhythm.

“Where’d you get this?” he stumbled forward when she took one of his hands, tugging him closer–the other fell to her side to second her swinging–he couldn’t help returning her infectious smile as she shrugged lightly, her free hand reaching on his shoulder.

“Luck–I found it before getting here along with a couple of CDs,” she looked up at him, head slightly tilted. “This one reminded me of you,” she added, voice softer–for a moment, her smile faltered.

She’d never thought she’d see him again, keeping the record out of pure nostalgia for someone she hadn’t seen in years. Someone she always feared was gone. They’d listened to Ella Fitzgerald constantly during their teenage years, Joel sneaking some of his parents’ records to her house, or locking themselves into listening booths for hours until they were kicked out. Dancing as they were in that moment.

“Only you beneath the moon and under the sun,” she hummed, their movements slowing with the song. “Whether near to me or fat, it’s no matter darling where you are–”

“I think of you night and day, day and night, why is it so?” he joined in, voice low, head bending slightly towards her–her smile returned, a shimmer in her eyes.

“Your voice’s changed,” she murmured, taking half a step closer. “S’warmer. I like it.”

“Thought you always liked my voice,” he smiled, tucking his chin to look down at her. She nodded with a low chuckle, locking their already joined hands together by intertwining their fingers.

“’Course I did,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes mockingly. She gave a squeeze to his hand then, lowering her head slightly. “I missed it–this,” she inhaled sharply then, a shallow sound that temporarily overwhelmed the music. “You,” she added, almost in a whisper that would’ve been lost to him had he not been looking at her mouth.

Joel’s heart stuttered, a soft sigh at her admission as his eyes fluttered shut, just a moment. Tongue-tied, he shifted closer, as close as he could get, the hand on her waist moving to the small of her back, wrapping his arm around her. He didn’t know how to tell her, how to let his mouth form the words that clouded his head–that had been since he’d seen her again. He couldn’t say it, not for lack of trying.

“Sugar,” he whispered, and she nodded, leaning forward and cutting him off.

The song went on, and she rested her head on his chest–the hand on his shoulder was soft, arm almost draped across it as she toyed absentmindedly with the collar of his shirt, brushing the nape of his neck every now and then. Their joined ones fell to his chest, arms bent, the warmth of her exhales brushing across their knuckles. He bent his head slightly, cheek barely brushing the top of her head, and he tightened his arm around her waist to keep her close–each song closer, until the music stopped.

They stayed like that a moment longer, even in silence, his heart beating the only sound she could hear, silence on his end with his good ear plugged by the earphone. She rubbed her thumb against the side of his hand, small movements that made his eyelids droop. He caught a glimpse of the top of her head like that, the curve of her nose, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks and the small pout on her relaxed mouth, all half-hidden against him. She looked–

“Ah, fuck’s sake,” he muttered to himself, and she blinked rapidly before looking up, wide-eyed. She tilted her head, gently pulling his earphone off.

“What is it?” she cleared her throat, taking a small step back. The hold on his hand began loosening, so he forced himself to ease his arm around her waist, too, shaking his head.

“Nothin’, just–something Ellie said, it’s not important,” he let go of her when her brows knit, a hint of perplexity in her gaze. “I should go, actually. Check she’s actually gone to sleep.”

“Of course,” she returned quickly, stepping even further back, hands falling to her sides and rubbing down slowly, palms dragging along the seams of her jeans. “Thank you. For the frame–and passing by.”

His right hand twitched slightly at his side, and he took a small step back, nodding at her words. He stopped then, moving forward once more–he pushed past the knot in his throat and the tingling in his limbs and his heart dropping, and reached for her face. She leaned into his touch, his hands cupping over her cheeks as he shifted closer once more, brushing a delicate kiss to her forehead, her lips curled into the beginning of a smile. He held her gently, the touch of his lips lingering a moment longer over her skin before he moved away.

“See ya, Sugar.”

Summer was relentless. With days spent seeking shadows and some reprieve from the heat, the nights were unbearable in their stillness. Joel couldn’t sleep–after 20 years in Boston, he wasn’t used to the Southern heat anymore.

And he would be lying to himself if he thought that was the only reason why.

He kept replaying the conversation with Tommy in his head, over and over. He was haunted by it, sitting on the porch in the quiet of Jackson’s night.

“Ellie’s right, it is getting painful to watch.”

“The hell are you talking with Ellie about?”

“You and Sugar. It’s worse than when we were young, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Means this time I can’t pretend to ask her out so that you finally get your head out of your ass and admit you like her. You gotta wake up, Joel.”

He was awake. Truth was, Joel had felt like he had been living in a nightmare for the past 20 years–and now he was awake and didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know how to be himself anymore. Or how to be a person.

Perhaps that was why he was knocking on her door while everyone else was asleep. Perhaps he was just too much in his head about it. Perhaps–

“Joel?” his eyes fell down across her, flimsy night clothes clinging to her for a split second before he forced his gaze up, breath stuttering slightly. “It’s the middle of the night, what happened?”

“Sorry–shit,” he looked away, past his shoulder, back at her–was his heart beating faster? Were his hands shaking? He felt like it. “You’re right. Sorry, I’ll just–it can wait,” he stepped back, shaking his head.

“It clearly can’t, since you knocked at my door like a maniac,” she said it with a little grin, and some tension left his shoulders at the sight of it, of her stepping back and opening the door further for him. “C’mon, get inside.”

Joel walked past her and his steps faltered, tilting his head in her direction with a sharp inhale before moving along, fists opening and closing down his sides. He’d gotten better at that–not letting it all overwhelm him. Understand when the world might begin tipping under his feet and stabilize himself. He was trying–for Ellie, for his brother, for her, he was really trying.

“What happened?” she asked softly. They stood in the living room as they had before, as they had when they’d danced, except they were each on one end of the couch, a gaping emptiness between the two of them. “Should I start to get worried? You look like–”

“I like you,” he blurted out, recoiling at the shift in his own voice–so much louder than her careful tone. She blinked rapidly, head slightly tilted.

“I should hope so,” she scoffed, the reassuring smile she had before turning into a downright amused one. But Joel was shaking his head already, hands still restless. “Joel–”

“No, I mean–I like like you,” she blinked again, lips parting slightly and making her smile begin to dwindle. “Like I think I might be in love with you,” he closed his eyes, inhaling sharply–of course Ellie’s voice would echo in his head right then. Making an absolute fool out of him. “And I think I’ve always been and just didn’t know, or maybe I did know and I just didn’t want to fuck up this too, because I always fucked up everything, every relationship I ever had but ours, and the thought of losing you was terrifying–is terrifying,” he gasped a little between words, each one falling out of his mouth and out of his control. “Or maybe I wasn’t, you know? Maybe–maybe I just–”

“Joey,” she called him softly–so soft he almost didn’t hear her, and reacted first to her hand resting over his chest. His eyes flew open, gaze unfocused for a moment running across her face before they locked with hers, familiar and gentle. She pressed her palm against his chest, and he knew for sure his heart was stuttering underneath her touch. “Take a breath.”

He gasped again, shoulders dropping forward as if wrapping himself around her hand with a long exhale. Blindly, he reached for her, fingers wrapping around her wrist.

“Another,” she instructed, taking his other hand gingerly, and he did. Inhale, exhale, stumbling forward. “It’s just me, Joey.”

“You’re the only one who’s ever called me that, y’know?” he whispered, breathlessly. She gave him a little smile, tapping two fingers on his chest. Slowly, his heartbeat matched her rhythm, and he squeezed her wrist once, gently.

“Wanna try that again?” she murmured, tilting her head a little to the side.

“You can kick me out,” he retorted in a mumble, and she sighed. She shifted the hand she was holding, thumb pressing into his wrist, right above his pulse, right above the strap of his watch, while the rest of her fingers spread across the back of his hand.

“And why would I do that?” Joel met her gaze again–awaiting, reassuring, familiar gaze.

“You’ve known me all our lives, Sugar,” she nodded at his heavy sigh. “You’ve seen me fuck everything up, multiple times–Christ, you’ve seen me fuck things up with Sarah’s mother, too,” again she nodded, and he lowered his voice, breath stuttering. “Yet you were always there for me.”

“Of course I was,” with the last nod, she smiled–it was bittersweet, made his heart ache.

“I loved you for that. More than I knew could be possible,” he bowed his head, the tip of his nose brushing hers tentatively. “And I love–I love–I love you still.”

Her exhale was long, fingers curling over his chest and twisting in the fabric of his shirt–he stumbled forward ever so slightly, the hand he had around her wrist falling against her side balancing himself as she brought her lips close to his. Close, without touching, his breath stuttering when her exhale hit his skin.

“You’ve been the best half of my life, Joel,” there was a scratch in her voice that wasn’t there before, words trembling ever so slightly. “You–I’ve always known I loved you. I knew I loved you, I just–I don’t think I ever realized how much until I lost you. Or found you again.”

“Sugar–” she shook her head, humming.

“Not done,” she chided, and he snapped his mouth shut, almost chuckling. “You were my best friend. I’d like to think you still are, even after these awful fucking years because I–I’ve always needed you, Joel,” the hand on his chest shifted upwards slightly, resting at his collarbones. “And I still do. I need you in my life–I need you.”

“You do have me, sweetheart,” he said, hurriedly, pulling back ever so slightly. Her eyes were shimmering, and he wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her close–her hand slid to the side of his neck, lips quivering slightly. He was looking at her lips. “However you want me, you have me.”

“I do love you, even now,” her thumb traced figures eight over his neck with one hand, small circles on his wrist with the other. Soothing. Gentle. Calming. “Whoever it is you think you’ve become now–I love you. I need you to understand that.”

Joel’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened. Closed again, a thin line cutting through his face. She was looking at him as if she could see right through him, pick up the pieces of his hesitation during the months just gone by, and the years before that. Reading him as she’d always done, and speaking directly to his foolish heart, reassuring him–you’ll get through the year, you’ll get through the grief, you’ll be alright, Sarah’ll be alright, we’ll be alright, I love you, I love you, I love you.

“I know,” he hummed, tightening his hold around her. Her body softened into his with a long exhale, the hand rising to his jaw, scratching along his patchy beard. “I’m trying, sweetheart.”

“I know you are,” she cupped his cheek, and in spite of the heat he didn’t mind the warmth radiating from her palm. His eyes fluttered shut. “C’mere.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, his head falling forward against the curve of her neck. He leaned fully into the circle of her arms, reaching out with his other free hand too to keep her close, her back slightly arched towards him, locked together like pieces of a puzzle. Freshly cut grass welcoming him home, he dug his fingertips into her sides and brushed his mouth to her neck–a half kiss, hesitant and tentative. If he got a full taste, he knew he’d want nothing else for as long as he lived.

That was a lie. He already didn’t, couldn’t fathom it.

Slowly, she tipped her head to the side, granting him more space–he could feel her heartbeat quickening under his parted lips, a hiccup in her breath as she dragged her hands up the nape of his neck, fingertips slowly brushing through the locks at the back of his head, guiding him forward and up. He let her guide him, gave her full control as the tip of his nose traced a path up her jaw, cheek, his lips following.

“Are you teasin’, Sugar?” he whispered, rubbing their noses together, and felt her smile rather than saw it. She shook her head, pressing herself impossibly closer as she scratched his scalp gently. “Then I’m gonna need you to tell me what to do next.”

When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him already, so close she was slightly cross-eyed, long lashes kissing the arch of her brows. His own heart beat a little quicker, a little louder, anticipation building in his limbs as he could feel himself burn from within.

“Kiss me,” just a whisper.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

His heart would never be whole again, that much he knew–a part of it had stayed behind, pierced by a bullet, a 20 years old wound. But he could live again, day by day. He could find his way back to life, with his Ellie on one side and–

Joel caught her lips with his own, and it felt like homecoming. Sweet as sugar, he kissed her slow, without rush, as if trying to make up for each year spent apart, and for each year spent together in the wrong way. He held her as if she might shatter and like he would never let her go both, drank greedily each sigh, each whisper, never once parting until his lungs burned, and then kissing her gasps away, too.

#redahlia #be still my foolish heart #pedrostories #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

212 notes · View notes

k-marzolf · 6 days

Text

Hair Rollers & Doritos.

—warnings; roommate au, pet names, kissing?, fluff & stuff, fem!reader.

Word count; 550.

Tagging; @terry2227 @kayhi808 @e-dubbc11 @aoi-targaryen @snowkestrel @zz-kennedy @fictional-hooman @oops89 @thejanecampaign @vaguekayla @firexfate @rosaleenablack @russosafehaven @idaofinfinity @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @danzer8705 @littleblackcatinwonderland @disneyloverjaime @milea @bookloverfilmoholic @firequeensposts @gh0stf1c3 @ittybxttykxttytxtty

You threw yourself into his lap, glasses going askew and he laughed, fixing them. “Whoa, slow down, Velma.” He husked as you threw your legs over his knees, planting your iced coffee between your thighs.

You blew hair out of your face, “Velma?” You asked incredulously, narrowing your eyes at him.

He laughed.”From Scooby Doo. You remind me of her. Mostly calm under pressure, and smart as fuck.” He said, flicking your forehead.

You swatted at him. “I’m kinda dumb, love. I’d be the blonde to die first in a horror movie.” You grabbed his spicy chili Doritos, putting some in your mouth.

He didn’t believe that for a second. You’d figured out how to change your alternator after weeks of reading about it, every morning at breakfast, refusing to let Billy pay for the repairs, while you ate your toast with strawberry jam on it

“Excuse you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, can I have some, Billy?” You asked, looking at him from under your lashes, hand still in the bag, making him swallow hard, his throat bobbing up and down.

He could never say no to you, except maybe to let Freddie Mercury, your hamster, on his bed. “Sure, Velma.” He teased you, ruffling your rollers.

“Hey, now! Don’t fudge with the process. Or I’ll come at you with a rolling pin.” Your glasses slipped down again, and you pushed them back up.

He laughed, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin a sleeping beauty’s hair.” He said, dodging the couch pillow. He kissed the corner of your mouth, tasting your iced coffee.

You ducked your head shyly, taking another fistful of Doritos in your mouth. He smiled against your cheek at your shyness. He usually hated shyness, mostly because he hated coyness. It was always used by other women to manipulate him.

But you were genuine.

“Like you don’t spend an hour on your hair every morning, love.” You retorted dryly.

Billy huffed a laugh, “It takes work to look this good.”

Your eyes slid over to his, as you licked your fingers, “So you don’t look that good naturally? Okay, Barbie,” you laughed, scooting closer, opening your iced coffee.

“I’m hunting Freddie Mercury for sport.” Billy grunted.

“Mean.” You said taking a drink, before flicking him on his nose.

He hummed, arm settling around you, wishing to crawl inside your heart and live there, warm and happy.

You fought him for the remote, and won (or rather he let you), finding The Mummy on some movie channel.

Later on, he watched you doze, pressed firmly against him on the couch, eyes fluttering. Your hair rollers pressed against his side, your empty bottle of iced coffee in the couch cushions. He had the temptation to take a photo of you with the rollers in. You were so goddamn cute.

His eyes drooped as he settled in, some infomercial playing quietly on the television now. It was late, and he rested his chin on your head, squishing your rollers, and smelling whatever spray you’d used on your hair. He was content, but he always waited for the other shoe to drop. Something always happened.

He never had a connection other than with Frank. But as he watched you demolish his Doritos, he thought he might have found someone in you.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

52 notes · View notes

strwberri-milk · 9 months

Note

Kaeya and Diluc w a so with a complicated family issues like them too? Maybe them trying to get away from their family, however that looks, like changing names and moving out and stuff

Kaeya doesn't blame you for trying to change your identity and trying to shed that part of your history. He wants to ask more about it, just curious more than anything but when you refuse he decides not to press for more information. He doesn't want to ruin the trust you two have after all and has just decided he'll take things as they come rather than pushing you.

He might accidentally come across some of your past without you even recognising it. Sometimes you say something that he stores in the back of his mind that links to something else you've said but rather than confront you he decides to leave his theories to himself. He doesn't want you to feel like everything you tell him is something he's desperately piecing together, and again would rather just wait for you to feel comfortable to tell him.

The nights that you spend missing your family ir wondering about what could have been are ones he can easily relate to. You never say anything to him but the forlorn look in your eye as you gaze at something that will just always be out of reach is something that pains him so to remember feeling himself. Whenever that happens, he always quietly wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you tightly against his chest. No words are ever said but you know that you're safe here in his arms and that even though he can't replace an entire family, he can love you enough to make your grief ebb.

Diluc struggles a little seeing your struggles align so closely with his. The difference is that while you've run away, he runs into his estranged brother far too often. He can see the way you look at them, clearly wishing they would make up but also knowing that whatever it is that happened between the two of them is too much for something to be fixed so easily.

Instead, you just turn your attention away from Kaeya and distract yourself by talking to Diluc. The two of you have found solace in each other after all, knowing that it doesn't really matter what happens around you two as long as you have each other.

Diluc struggles with knowing the right thing to say or do sometimes, wishing he could offer you more than just his touch to settle your turbulent thoughts. He does what he can by preserving your identity and keeping tabs on your family from afar. Any time he feels like they're getting too close to your new life he'll find a way to deter them and keep you safe.

You've never felt safer, knowing that even if Diluc were to find out the reason why you felt the need to change your identity thanks to your family that he'd still love you for the person you are. He's heard enough about them from your mouth after all, and he's never made any judgments about the things you had to do to get away from them. All he does is reassure you that you're not a bad person for wanting to get away and that he'll always be on your side.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

113 notes · View notes

riotkayla · 2 years

Text

Finding the Truth: part three

Synopsis: You and Eddie finally talk about stuff while enjoying fries, Eddie trying to prove he’s a changed man.

TW/Warnings: none, just fluff and domestic shit

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are welcome! Please do not copy my work for your own or I will hunt you down :)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

did i edit this? absolutely not!

tagging: @luceneraium @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @marvelforlife2008 @ali-r3n @shenevertricks1831

“Hey,” Eddie slid into the last booth in the corner of Benny’s Burger, sunglasses pushing back the face-framing curls as he shoved them onto his crown. “Thanks for meeting.”

“S’no problem,” you forced a small smile. After dinner last night you were a ball of anxiety. You curled up on the couch, thoughts going to what you would say the next day while Eddie and Willow played. They sat on the floor for a while until eventually, the toddler had fallen asleep in his lap. He helped tote her to the car, buckling her in and placing a small kiss on her cheek. You could tell that Will already had him wrapped around her pinky finger.

The last time you were this close to Eddie alone, there had been a lot of yelling. The ring dangling from his necklace had been thrown rather harshly at his head. Now you could blame all the rage on the unknown pregnancy hormones but deep down it was more than just first-trimester issues.

“So,” Eddie pulled you from your thoughts. “Tell me about everything. I mean, Henderson told me some stuff but tell me everything I missed.”

“Well,” you decided to not meet his gaze and fixed your eyes on the water glass in front of you. “I knew I was pregnant after I came back from Chicago.” It felt weird admitting it. Knowing and never telling.

“I took like a billion at-home tests and then mom dragged me to the doctor and I was like 9 weeks along. I was in shock for a while. Didn’t really tell anyone until I started showing.” Your hands went to play with the straw, you needed something to do or else you might start crying. “I thought about calling you every day but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I left...” it came out just above a whisper. “You were about to be on top of the world and I knew as soon as I called it would all be over. You would have left the band and come back to live a life you didn’t want.”

A baby couldn’t fix the issues. You knew that Eddie would have resented you for getting pregnant right before a huge world tour and the release of their third album. You thought that having him back in Hawkins would just end as before, yelling and you walking out again. He needed to live a life away from this town and you so he could grow.

“We could’ve figured it out,” Eddie’s voice was soft. Had this conversation occurred three years ago his tone would have been different, harsher. Before he could say anything else a boy came over to take orders. Eddie claimed he wasn’t hungry but ordered a basket of fries for the two of you to snack on. You didn’t order anything, very aware of the sick feeling in your stomach. You waited until he left before you spoke again.

“She came out with a head full of curls and at first her eyes were this dark blue but by the time she was three months they were your dark brown,” You were a little jealous of how much of Eddie came out of your little girl. You had hoped that when her eyes began to darken they would turn into your mom’s hazel hues, flecked with green and blue. Instead, you found yourself staring into his eyes every day. Somedays it would break your heart. Other times it would just remind you how much you loved him even if you weren’t together.

A basket of fries was placed between the two of you, Eddie grabbing a fry and nibbling on the end. “She’s just like you. Wayne started calling her Munson Menace because of her tantrums,”

“Munson Menace?” Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m assuming she has your last name, yeah?”

You popped a fry in your mouth, not sure how to approach the question. Finally, after a few seconds, you broke. “It’s hyphenated, mine and yours.”

“You gave her my name?” The fry he was holding fell out of his grasp, hitting the sticky table.

“Yeah, I knew it would mean something to you and Wayne. I mean, it was almost my name at one point.” You shrugged, eyes looking at the emerald stone glinting in the harsh light of the diner. It was mocking you.

“It could still be your name if you want,” He was looking at you, brown eyes gazing longingly. “I came back here to see you, I was gonna grovel and beg, and finding out we have a kid is just a bonus.”

“Ed,” you felt your heart swell and you pushed back the lump growing in your throat. “We’ve been apart almost four years. We have no idea who we are anymore.”

“I know who we are,” he was reaching for your long fingers curling around the back of your hand. “Bug I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past two years-”

“Eddie stop,” you pull your hand away from him breaking the moment. “That’s not how this work-”

“Tell me what to do,” he shifted in his seat, a hand grabbing the ring hanging from his neck. “Baby I have spent the past three years tryin’ to figure out how t’get you back. I wrote a whole album for you-”

“Yeah lyin’ bitch is a great love song, Eddie.”

“That’s not- Jesus H. Christ, can you not? I was upset when I wrote that. I thought you told the whole town I cheated on you,” you watched him take a deep breath trying to calm down. “I have spent every day for the past two years on tour missing you, I used to dedicate every show to you. I went to therapy to work my shit out, to be better for you. I’m better than when you left.”

He was pleading, leaning against the table hands finding their way back to yours. His thumb brushed over the empty ring finger and you squeezed your eyes shut. “C’mon baby, please. lemme be the man you need.” He squeezed your hand, trying to coax your eyes back open to meet his gaze. You knew that one look would have you melting into his touch. Slowly, you met his eyes, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“We can’t just pick up where we left off,” you looked down at the locked hands. “We’re different now. We have a kid, she has a routine and I have worked so hard to get her to where she’s at.

“You can start by coming over when I get off work and spend time with us and usually Wayne will take her out on Saturdays to go run errands with him so we can spend more time getting to know each other without Willow,” you were rambling at this point. It seemed easier to get everything out on the line before it was too late. “ and whenever you go on tour again we can talk about us meeting you in cities close by or I can take time off work and go with you-”

“Babe you gotta slow down and breath between sentences,” Eddie squeezed your hand again. “I’m not going anywhere for a while. I wanna be here for both of you. I will do anything if it means I can be a part of this family.”

----------

Eddie had been true to his word, he was sticking around for a very long. The moving truck showed up in Hawkins the Monday after and dropped off his boxes at the trailer, where he unpacked while waiting on you to get home. He had managed to unbox everything and settled back into his old life all before five o’clock. When you pulled up to your house with a whiny toddler Eddie was on the front porch blowing smoke rings into the air lazily.

He met you at the car, opening the backseat with a smile. “Hey princess, have a good day?” Willow let out a squeal seeing her dad, throwing her arms up as he unbuckled her from the car seat. She latched on to him, grabbing onto the Metallica shirt to steady herself. “Hi, Bug.”

“Hi Eds,” you shut the car door behind you, twirling the keychain around your finger as the three of you walked up the path to your house. It was small, but enough for you and Willow. Eddie had stopped momentarily to get a good look at the place. It was white with blue shutters, and you had painted the door a nice shade of yellow. You unlocked the door, turning to wave him in.

He stumbled across the threshold dramatically. “Oh no Will, the gravity is too strong. I’m gonna fall,” he fell into the couch, pulling the toddler onto his chest. Long fingers began poking at her sides making laughter fall from her little lips. You padded down the hallways toward the kitchen to prepare dinner. Willow had specifically asked for chicken nuggets on the way home.

You had just finished sticking the baking tray into the oven when two small hands wrapped around your leg. “Mama,” Will whispered. “awe we havin’ chicken nuggets?”

“Yes baby,” you brushed back some of her curls, smiling.

“Is daddy eatin’ with us?” Daddy. Your heart skipped a beat at that phrase. You had told her the day before that she could call Eddie whatever she wanted, he didn’t have to be called dad if it didn’t feel right. Willow took to it so easily so though.

“Yes baby,” you answered again. Eddie’s curls peaked around the door frame, cheeks turning red at the sound of his new name. You smiled at him before pushing Willow towards him. “Go play while mama finishes dinner okay?”

-----

After dinner you found yourself on the couch, back pressed against Eddie’s chest while the local news station played on the TV. Willow was on the floor, tongue sticking out as she colored in her Princess and Dragon coloring book. Both of you were focused on the scribbles she was making, not paying attention to the news anchor on the screen.

“Does this count as a date?” Eddie mumbles against your ear. You could feel the smile on his lips.

“Maybe,” you turn to him, your own smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I mean we had dinner and now a show.” Eddie hummed, happy with your answer, and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. It was normal, casual, yet the thumping in your chest said otherwise. You turned back to Willow and watched her scribble some more. “Hey kiddo, I think it’s time for a bath.”

“Nooooo,” Willow whined, wiggling her little body away from your reach. Eddie moved off the couch and scooped up the little one in his arms, throwing her over his shoulder while she squealed. You stood up, face to face with her. “Do I gotta?”

“Yes, you gotta,” she poked her nose with your pointer finger. “If you do good I’ll let daddy read you a bedtime story.”

-----

“What’s that?” Willow reached up a small finger looping around the gold band situated on Eddie’s chain. He paused from reading his story and looked down at her.

“It’s mommy’s ring,” he grabbed the guitar pick next to it, bumping her hand slightly.

“Why does you have it?”

“I’m keeping her close to my heart,” Willow frowned at his answer. “I wear it so she’s always with me when I’m on the road.”

She liked that answer better, settling against his chest again. “I want a wing.”

“I’ll get ya one pretty girl, but let’s finish this story first.”

#eddie munson ff #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x female reader #dad!eddie #dad! eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie my love

891 notes · View notes

finchxs-revenge · 7 months

Text

I've been having some Oh No Will Izzy Actually Die thoughts that I'd like to stab on the right side so let's get into it.

I don't think Izzy will actually die. He might seem to be dead for a minute for some other plot point to work, or do the whole die then come back to life thing, ala indestructible little fucker. (Though, considering both of these have already been done in the plot, I find it unlikely, unless it comes about as a meaningful parallel, but I won't speculate much on that.) However, permanent, canon character death doesn't seem plausible from the vibe I get off the writing so far in S2 (For context, this post is being made before episodes 6 & 7 have aired). Hopefully not being tainted by the fact Izzy is my favorite character, here is my reasoning.

Of course the writers want us to feel something, so stakes are going to be high and the waves are going to be big. But the writing so far has delivered the emotional impact by catching the audience after the big waves. Stuff this season just lands, and it is sooo good. It wouldn't make any sense to swell up Izzy's plot line/character in so many different ways only to dash him against the rocks at the end. To have him die, even in a way that is symbolically important or for a reason that lines up with his character motivations would just be garish compared to how every single other conflict or plot point has been handled this season.

Yes, some stories do just use the emotional impact of destruction instead of a proper landing. The writer can't or won't do the heavy lifting of actually showing a character work through their shit, opting instead to kill the character with some symbolically emotional fireworks thrown in. It leaves the audience with this ache like, oh, ahh, they were so close to being able to fix their problem or get out of the situation, but at least we get some action and another character will stare whimsically into the flames so their death wasn't in vain.

Yeah, that's not this show.

If Izzy were still yelling at his reflection about "Who are you even" we would at least have a set up for the answer being, "No one" and the only way for him to get out of that situation is to die. It's been done in other stories and it's honestly boring and not what OFMD is even about.

OFMD is about change and being brave enough to confront our own broken and scary parts, and to carve out safe space ships regardless of what society expects of us or even what we expect of ourselves. It's about showing that this work is worth it and life is better on the other side of it.

I don't think this show would have a character begin to find who he is, become a part of the ship (literally), and start mending relationships with all the characters only to choose the destructive-symbolic-fireworks-death ending for that character.

Regardless of Jenkins comments about how the opening scene will be "satisfying" after we have seen the finale, the fact that everything about that scene is the opposite of what actually happens is, I think, a gesture the writers have put in so we might trust them when the wave gets big. We're going to get in over our heads, crew, but at least we know, even subconsciously, that Stede doesn't have a beard and Izzy doesn't die.

Now, regarding the comment Jenkins made about Ed, Izzy, and Stede's fates being intertwined, I think it would be completely unsatisfying, as well as just bad writing, to throw all three of them up in the air only to catch two. Honestly, we've already gotten some solid emotional landings from Izzy's plot (when he shoots the torch out of Ed's hand and when he reads the unicorn note the second time at the front of the ship to name only two), so I feel inclined to believe the emotional landing around whatever happens to Izzy will indeed fall on Ed or Stede. But I have enough faith in the writers and the story that it will not entail dealing with Izzy's death. That he doesn't have to die in order to contribute to their growth and understanding of themselves and the relationships they are in, with each other and with the crew. It's going to be something big, but not death.

I have absolutely no fucking idea what that something big might be, but honestly that just makes me trust the show and writers even more.

At least. That's what I'm telling myself to survive these next two weeks 🦄🦄🦄

#ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd #izzy hands #ofmd speculation #our flag means death

72 notes · View notes

donnerpartyofone · 2 months

Text

We can all agree that pedestalizing people is bad for various obvious reasons, but I think a lesser-discussed subtext of this behavior is the implication that the pedestalized person gains caretaking responsibility as a natural consequence of their alleged superiority. Put differently: If you get turned into Superman, it becomes your job to save people.

I have a dear old friend who has a bad habit of idealizing people. It starts out as sweet and flattering, then it becomes kind of overbearing--any kind of distorted perception of oneself becomes burdensome even if it's positive--and then eventually she starts making noises to the tune of "Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope!" Like if you accept that you're her hero, the expectation is that you have to do what a hero does, and suddenly you have all these chores and favors and stuff lined up that are not really great for the friendship. In the case of my friend the behavior is not consciously manipulative; anyone will tell you that she's not, like, a bad person. She's just deep into this idea that somewhere out there is someone who can fix all her problems for her, she's really not into resolving things on her own. She's a classic self-help addict (could use more emphasis on the "self" part imho) and, hilariously, she has been "fired" by more than one phone psychic who she wouldn't stop calling. Like those people chose to stop taking her money in order to push her out of the proverbial nest. And of course, like a lot of people with this disposition, she doesn't actually take the advice she's given, just does whatever she wants instead...and then comes back in short order to ask for more advice.

Perhaps ironically, she is a very talented and energetic person who actually CAN do a lot on her own, and a few years ago she started writing a fun, quirky, topical book that we all agreed was a great idea and might actually make money. In a moment of epic stupidity, I offered to give her "friendly feedback" whenever she wanted a reader. Soon I was embroiled in a weeks-long argument about how she could pay me even though I didn't want money, and then when I named a price she couldn't pay it, and if I lowballed her she'd say that was "unfair" to me and my supposedly valuable services, and eventually I had to have this like meeting with her at a neutral location that was mediated by her ex-girlfriend to find some kind of rational end to the conversation. That's how I became her editor, even though as I frequently and forcefully reminded her I am most certainly not an editor and have none of the necessary skills or education other than the ability to read; all I ever offered was the "friendly feedback" thing and suddenly I wound up in this nightmare business relationship that was predicated on her delusions about how I'm the smartest bestest writer in the whole wide universe and I simply must save her poor little book project or it will perish.

It wasn't long before I was getting these late night phone calls telling me I was doing a bad job because I had to be "REALLY BRUTAL" and "TEAR IT APART" and she couldn't figure out why I wasn't doing that. I reminded her over and over that I'm not a real editor and I'm doing only what I am capable of doing and I'm certainly not being dishonest with her, which was the unpleasant subtext. If she's unhappy she should get a real editor, or at least a lit student who could use the pocket change. Then one day she changed her tune and told me I had actually edited her book so hard that it completely removed her personal voice from the text, and she was forced to start the whole thing over from scratch. I was deeply relieved.

...but of course, I've never stopped hearing about it. Once a year or so she comes around to remind me of what a totally radical job I did awesomely editing her super book, and don't I want to come back and finish it with her? I make a civil reminder of the fact that actually she was totally unhappy with everything I did on the book, and I don't think it's a good idea for us to work on it anymore. The response is always something like "hahaha i dont remember that LOL" (I think she really doesn't!), and I just have to back away slowly. This is not even the most fraught thing she's involved me in; hopefully I will not get started on the time I agreed to pick her up from a minor outpatient procedure, which transformed from a simple favor into a plan for an elaborate slumber party in a hotel featuring more and more people including her crazy mother who she was in a vicious fight with...while I just tried for weeks and weeks to get her to tell me where and when the procedure was happening so I knew when to pick her up. And I never even found out the answer after all, somebody else took care of it in the end, for some reason.

Anyway I'm typing all this out now because It Is Happening Again, she's trying to rope me back into the book thing which she somehow remembers as this great experience, and she wants "a friend, not some stranger" to help her finish it. And I'm trying to figure out if I should a) remind her yet again that she was very unhappy with my work on the book, and I am not a real editor, and maybe "some stranger" would be really great for her because the situation will be more professional and there won't be any impact on any of her personal relationships, or b) just tell her I don't have time, good luck! I kind of feel like being more explicit with her might give her a much-needed wake-up call about how she's been mixing business with pleasure, to her own detriment. I also feel like it would be the more respectful thing to do, to treat her like an adult who can hear something tough and make a rational choice with that information. But on the other hand maybe this is a good time to set a boundary and NOT act like it's my job to help and guide and save her, even if it's just with tough love this time. Ugh!

PS There's actually a secondary component to this which is that she's a hairdresser, and that's how I originally befriended her. She's intensely affectionate and emotional, but she's also a huge flake and I almost never get to see her if it isn't for an appointment--which she often has to reschedule several times anyway. A little while ago I told her I need to grow my hair out and save money and she panicked, seeming to realize that if she has to make actual social plans she won't be able to stick to them. So her way around this appears to be getting me back into a business relationship where we're trading haircuts for editing, and I don't want to do any of it. I just want her to like be normal with me, but that is entirely too much to ask of some people.

#complaints dept

13 notes · View notes

blackthorn-legion-irl · 6 months

Text

sendoff.mp4

[A mysterious video is uploaded on Blackthorn's account. No metadata exists to determine who, how, or why it was posted…]

A calm moonlight shines through the window. It shines on Den, Saffron, Fuchsia, and Cerulean, sleeping like a pile of kittens, barely distinguishable as separate beings.

A few minutes pass. Then a shadow dims the moonlight for a moment, and Den awakens. She gets up, careful not to wake the others, trying to give them just a little extra sleep. Eventually - gently, subconsciously - she starts to sing.

A second set of voices joins her for a duet - Saffron, Fuchsia, and Cerulean, the Pixies singing in harmony, simultaneously one voice yet three.

As they sing, it seems that the world has stopped around them. Not in the sense of a dark future, but in the sense of a moment of peace forever fixed in time.

A subtle glow surrounds each of the Pixies as the song continues, growing stronger, in the colour of their name. In the same time, Den seems to radiate a shadow - one of calm, as the empty night sky waiting to be filled with stars.

Before, as the song comes to its end, 'Arigato to...~' The glow blinds the camera with white for a moment, before it fades. The moon is shaded by clouds; the only light now comes from three floating wisps - one gold, one pink, one blue - and Den's red eyes shining in the darkness.

The wisps start to circle her. Faster, faster, spiralling inwards, until - a glow forms around her head. She closes her eyes, the glow fades into shadows.

The moonlight returns.

Revealing Den---revealing Blackthorn. Clearly tired, clearly damaged - clearly whole, as much as she can be. She stumbles blearily over to the bed, collapsing onto it. The only sound, her steady heartbeat.

And a trio of familiar voices singing her to sleep.

//ooc under the cut

//picrew source

and that's the end of this... pseudo-arc? i'm not sure what to call it still, but. the intro post will be updated at... some point. not sure when. but it needs a pretty big go-over anyway, so.

so what happens now? technically, blackthorn refers to the four of them, whereas den refers to den herself. in their whole state though, the two are pretty much interchangeable - as such blackthorn is simultaneously one person and four. self-reference-wise - she'll mostly use i/me, though depending on the context may switch to we/us. likewise, referring to saffron/fuchsia/cerulean will use he/she/they respectively. any pronouns are okay for any of them, though, as ever - she'll particularly be aware of plural they as an option depending on context.

while i'm noting this as it's what i use currently and thus what blackthorn will eventually stick to - she's got to work out how to communicate with the pixies first..... so do i, for that matter. it'll be easier for her though. as a bonus, the pixies also get a headspace (which i don't think i have) so i can keep making picrews of them. the irl equivalents just roll around my brain like when you have pokemon-amie on the bottom screen and get on the bike. i mean what :v

i appreciate everyone who's interacted in any way - in terms of me working out stuff irl i consider it a success also. thank you. i want to special thanks to spritemod and indigomod - while i know it wasn't intended, the timing of the runaway arc and such (even though i blocked a lot of it) really helped me with some particular cases in a safe environment, which otherwise i might not have gotten for a while. so that's a bonus.

probably when i update the intro post i'll also make a list of links to all the big major writing of this semi-arc. that might take a bit but i hope to have it done by the end of the weekend.

as for now? blackthorn's just doing her thing. helping people out, posting memes and stupid jokes... just with a little more understanding of what's going on behind the mask. (and a clearly totally valid excuse of 'no i don't have a soft side. that's just fuchsia')

#soul heckers #blackthorn.mp4 #//okay to interact with as a posted video #//as with the others this will post when i'm asleep for timezone reasons

11 notes · View notes

bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Note

BUBBLES!!! Hiiii 🥰 how are you doing on this fine Wednesday? I personally should be working and studying and all but I’ve decided to take a moment and write that headcanon I told you about instead because procrastination is my middle name 🤪🤪

It probably won’t be long but i NEED to share so yeah, here you go!! Mr. Joel babygirl Miller and the chain ✨✨

Pre-outbreak!Joel

It’s important to start by saying that Joel is 100% a giver, he doesn’t hesitate buying his daughter/you whatever you need, want, settle your eyes on. He truly lives for the people he loves and he would absolutely stay with nothing if it means having you and Sarah happy and content. That being said, you try to push him, get him to buy that new pair of boots he’s been eyeing for a while, buy some new shirts because yeah the ones he owns are okay but they’re slightly getting washed out. And it’s not because he’s a cheap man, quite the opposite! Sarah wants a new pair of shoes and he doesn’t hesitate buying it even if it’s a little expensive and she tells him it’s not necessary.

I think it comes from him being a single father relying on one income that, granted, is pretty good but he isn’t rolling around in money, you know? So most of his money would go to house related things, Sarah (especially when she was a baby because yeah, babies are expensive), school, sometimes trying to do fun stuff with his daughter like going a few days away on holidays, sending her to summer camp when he has to work, etc…

But now, you have two incomes, sarah isn’t a baby anymore, Joel’s company is going veryyyyy well so it’s not the same anymore.

Anyways!! His birthday is coming up and you decide to completely ignore his “i don’t want anything, i have my girls….and tommy” little speech like usual. But on top of that, you saw a golden chain at the jewelry shop the other day and you think it’d be a nice gift. So you buy the chain and have the pendant engraved with your initials (so J, S and whatever your initial is)

He probably doesn’t know what to say when you give it to him, he isn’t really used to being the one at the end of the “receiving” line and I mean, we all saw how he reacted when Sarah got his watch fixed. It would be quite similar, he’d be too touched and emotional to make a big speech (and Joel isn’t really one for big speeches anyway) but he’d clearly appreciate the gesture. He’d probably just hug you really tight, kiss your forehead and say thank you. His reaction would seem simple and anyone who doesn’t know him might think it’s because he doesn’t like the gift but you know it’s the complete opposite.

Since that day, he wears that chain everywhere. He never takes it off unless he’s showering. He keeps it well hidden under his shirt when he’s working but when he isn’t and the weather is nice enough, he’ll be ndaring enough to put a nice button up shirt and leave it open a little so the chain can be seen by everyone. Because yes, he wears it proudly, he wants to show the whole world that he’s yours as much as he enjoys showing you off. And I feel like it’d become a habit of his to just play with it whenever he starts missing you or when he’s nervous or lost in his thoughts.

Post-outbreak!Joel

Not much changes except the fact that finding a chain would be even more special. You’d find it in an old mall not too far from Jackson and you can’t resist, you bring it back. You go to the person who can engrave (I’m sorry i cannot remember the name lol) the necklace and have not only yours (so you and Joel) initials engraved but you also ask to add a little E and a S.

I feel like the more your relationship goes with Joel, the more he feels the need to talk about Sarah. I’m not saying he’ll be talking about her all day long but he’s bottled up everything for over 20 years and now he feels safe and happier which makes him more open to sharing. We saw it in that last scene with Ellie when they’re walking, it would be a bit like that as well. Sometimes, something would remind him of Sarah and he’ll tell you about it. Of course, you welcome it, you appreciate hearing about her and learn to love her through the stories he tells you. So yeah, all that to say that Sarah is part of the family even if she’s not physically present anymore so it’s natural for you to add her initial on the necklace next to yours and Ellie.

His reaction is pretty much the same as pre-outbreak!Joel. He’s definitely very emotional, he has no idea what to say because he’s so touched that you love him so much you’d do all that for him. I feel like although he knows you love him (yes, sometimes he doubts himself and his ability to make you happy but never he never doubts you) sometimes, you do or say something that shows just how much you actually care and it hits him “wow, she really loves me” kinda. I don’t know how to explain it but all these gestures make him really emotional and he feels so incredibly lucky to have you he can’t even speak anymore. And also the fact you thought of Sarah as well???? Life made it impossible for the most important girls in his life to all be with him at the same time but this just reminds him that yes, Sarah is gone but she keeps living through all those memories and the love he has for her and now, also the love you have for her in a way. I think it would help him a lot to finally process his grief and heal somehow that you accept that “old Joel” part of him, that life before the outbreak you didn’t know and that isn’t here anymore but still exists through him.

Okay i wrote something about his reaction but it disappeared so I’m writing it again here and sorry if it appears twice. As I said, his reaction would be pretty much the same, he’d be too choked up to speak so he’d bring you close in a hug and thank you. Then he’d be wearing that chain everywhere. Probably not with an open shirt because he’s definitely more self conscious than he used to be before the outbreak but he’d wear it on top of that undershirt thing he wears under his flannel (me making sense?). Again, he’s wearing it proudly and smiles every time he notices the chain in a mirror or someone makes a comment about it

So yeah, to sum up, gift something to Joel and he’ll cherish it forever and ever and also pedrito with an open shirt and a chain almost killed me but other than that I’m doing okay 👍🏼

Okay that’s all for today little bubble, i love you very very much and I’ll talk to you later <3

-🪷

Catch me in my pre-outbreak!Joel's mood today...

You would be planning Joel's birthday without him knowing obviously. It's just you and Sarah, Tommy is there for the logistics of going to buy stuff or hanging stuff up. And since the weather is getting warmer you decide on a family barbecue. No one else is invited just family because Joel Miller doesn't do big gatherings and Lord forbid all the attention being on him.

So it's a happy Friday. Sarah skips school. Joel has no clue about it too. You had made him ask for a shorter shift even if he had fussed about it for over a week. And you're just at it all day. Making little garlands from paper and fairy lights. Hanging them all over the backyard. And you bake a cake as well, Sarah helps to decorate it. Making hearts and flowers from icing. And it's in no way perfect but Joel doesn't need perfect well in his eyes anything that you and Sarah make is perfect. And you wrap up his presents just as you said spoiling him this year. Finally getting him things that he's been eyeing but pushing aside because he prioritizes getting his girls things. Writing little notes on each one. Like for this because your other shirts are 25 shades lighter from washing than they should be and so on.

When Joel finally gets home he's greeted with a silent house. He quickly checks the time - like mmm shouldn't my girls be back by then? So here's calling out for the two of you. You don't answer but he hears the giggles coming from outside. Shaking his head he makes his way to the patio and that's when he notices - all the candles and decorations. Sarah jumps from under the table. Running to hug her dad as she sings happy birthday to him. Joel just stands there embracing her. It almost feels surreal.

"You're looking at it like you hate it...", Sarah murmurs after a while of silence from her dad. But Joel just shook his head. "I knew you were up to something you sneaky bunch", he says and Sarah frowns, "No, you didn't know. Don't lie. Tell him Mom", she crosses her arms over her chest stepping aside as you also walk closer to him. Reaching to cup his cheeks as you lean closer to kiss him, "Happy Birthday, handsome". Joel's arms are lazily holding onto your hips as he smiles at you, "Have I gone to heaven?", you let out a laugh looking at Sarah, "See he thinks he's dead it's that good".

The rest of the evening is just filled with food, laughter, and music. Tommy had taken so many pictures of everyone and you had only returned the favor. Sarah has her hands over Joel's eyes as you and Tommy get the presents set on the table in front of him. "This is unnecessary. You know I need nothing, already have more than enough", he grumbles but Sarah only shushes him telling him to stay quiet or he won't get any cake.

And he would struggle a lot to take in all the things in front of him. He just doesn't know how to receive. He's a giver *cough cough* no but he finds pleasure in spoiling you. As he had said he gets more happiness from watching you enjoy stuff than buying something for himself.

Sarah is the one who hands him the box with the necklace. It was her idea and she was afraid that her dad would hate it. Been going on and on about it almost in every conversation that you had. So you've been reassuring her. Telling her that Joel has been more open with his style. Trying out different shirts and pater mixing and boy was it hard not to drool thinking about your husband with a golden chain around his neck for very different reasons. You haven't even seen him with it but you were already hit and bothered.

Joel is confused as he takes the box. Shaking it a bit. "Promise me this is the last one", he says looking at you both as you nod. To say that he wasn't expecting this was an understatement. He wasn't big on jewelry. Yes, he wore his wedding ring proudly and let you slip some other rings on him from time to time and that was all. His fingers trace the chain. The letter pendants made his heart swell. All the letters if your first names. He shakes his head.

"Told you he was going to hate it", Sarah bite her lip already fighting her tears, needing her dad to love it. Joel is quick to turn to her frowning, "Who said that I hate it baby girl? It's beautiful. I just... don't know what to say". Sarah slips to his side, to hug him once more. You take the chain from him. Going around to clasp it around his neck and shamelessly undoing one more button of his shirt, "Oh, that looks so good", you say more to yourself while biting your lip. Joel catches your gaze, smirking back at ya, before leaning down to press a kiss to Sarah's head.

#come chat with bubbles 🫧#little lily 🪷#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine

32 notes · View notes

bonefall · 1 year

Note

Hi, I was wondering given your expressed dislike for how ASiR handled it, how are you going to treat Feathertail and Stormfur and their individual character arcs + strained relationship with RiverClan in the rewrite. We've already seen how Reedwhisker and Mistystar reacted to the trauma of what happened under TigerClan, and I wonder what your plans for them are. Will Feathertail and Sasha still have a relationship and how will that be handled? Also how much of the "Stormfur is thought to be the prophecised defeater of Sharptooth" thing you are going to keep with regards to their Tribe arc, in case that is still preserved I came up with the idea in rewrites of switching their fur colors a bit, so Stormfur is a silver tabby and Feathertail is blue/gray smoke (long-furred), i.e she looks just gray on the surface but has a silver undercoat that's only obvious when she's running or something. This making it make more sense that everyone thinks Stormfur is the one even though Feathertail technically also fits the prophecy. And with Crowpaw and Feathertail's relationship, you've said before that you might age up Crowpaw to make this work, but I'm not sure if it's necessary for a romance at all between the two for the plot or at least more than a one-sided one on Crowpaw's part, wouldn't it just be enough that they bond and Feathertail takes time to really understand Crowpaw when the others don't?

I do very much dislike A Shadow In RiverClan!! I'm going to answer how I'm going to handle it in its own post, because I have a ton of ideas and it's looking like it's going to be one of my bigger reduxes.

When that comes, its new name is going to be The Tiger In RiverClan. In short; its POV will be changed, and it's about all of the half-Clan cats struggling with TigerClan supporters.

The Tribe and the Silver Warrior

I'm gonna wrench out that prophecy entirely, it doesn't sit right with me at all! I don't like how in our very first meeting with the Tribe, they're detaining the sundrown patrol because they expect them to fix their problems. It's a bad introduction. I want that first meeting to be something joyful, interrupted by Sharptooth.

So instead, when the Sundrown Patrol is passing over the mountains, they run into Tribecats and are immediately given help in their crossing. Through conversation, it's quickly discovered that the Sundrown Patrol is descended from the Sun Trail Cats, who the Tribe recognize as long-lost cousins and insist they come and visit the Cave Ward.

This part's a bit fuzzy, I want to go and revisit TNP for inspiration, but somehow around here the Sundrown Patrol violently learns about Sharptooth. Stoneteller explains they've killed him before, and they will kill him again. But the damage is devastating, some of the friendly cats who had saved their lives were suddenly slaughtered by the beast.

The Patrol debates what to do. Tawnypelt, the leader, has to make a decision; Will they stay and help their 'cousins,' or will they return to their mission?

This time, they aren't being coerced or begged in any way. It's completely up to the Sundrown Patrol to make this choice, and it's established that the Tribe CAN deal with Sharptooth on their own... but could use the help!

And help is exactly what they give, Feathertail sacrificing her life to end the carnage.

Feathertail and Crowfoot

A no romance bond could work perfectly well, but something I enjoy about Crowfeather is how this experience colors the 'way' he loves others. I think, even if Feathertail lived, it wouldn't have worked out and Crowfoot would have had to have a reckoning with the fact he can't just stuff people into the hole in his heart.

It would have worked out better for him, though, because Bonefall Feathertail's very wise and, through breaking his heart, would give him some excellent advice on how to properly mend it, if that makes sense. But that isn't what happens. She dies horribly, and Crowfeather spends the rest of his life chasing the "Perfect Love" he thinks he could have had.

(it's honestly too bad that Bonefall Feathertail dies here, she's a total delight and I like writing for her lmao. Ridiculously relaxed pun-lover who knocks you off your feet with sudden, cutting insight.)

As for if she likes him back, I think she kinda does, but not as much as he likes her. Notably, Crowfoot's not going to be as bad as he is in canon, because Canon TNP Crowpaw is just utterly insufferable imo. His mother Ashfoot raises him with stories of the Forget-Me-Nots (her old friend group, including young Bluestar, for newcomers) which makes him several orders of magnitude more agreeable.

I think, of all the Sundrown Patrol, Crow was the one who needed the most shakeup. It's generally agreed that it was a total missed opportunity for these cats to have a sort of 'found family' dynamic, and I think the biggest obstacle to that is Crow. Every word out of his mouth is some flavor of, "I resent being here and I'm committed to hating you people."

It makes a lot of otherwise fun scenes end disastrously.

So instead, I'm approaching him as kind of grumpy and dramatic, but dedicated. Feathertail's the first to understand him, but the whole crew gets him by the time they get back to the Forest.

And, lastly, he's going to be aged up, and not just for the romance. I get the vibe that Deadfoot picked his son from heaven just for the sake of nepotism, and I'd like to fix that at least a little bit. No apprentices are chosen by StarClan to go on the incredibly important religious quest. And, lastly, it fixes a minor time discrepancy where Deadfoot would have been dead before his last litter was conceived.

His name was Crowfoot on the journey, and he receives an honor title from Tallstar as a request to honor Feathertail.

#Bonefall TNP #Bonefall Rewrite #Crowfeather #Sundrown Patrol #Feathertail #Sharptooth #Tawnypelt

55 notes · View notes

kingofangst · 4 months

Text

SHADES OF RED

Fight Club Owner! Sukuna x Wealthy! Reader teaser

Here is the teaser @rinhaler hope you find it interesting

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual desire

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

"Coming up in my club and business is a fucking invasion of privacy, princess. Didn't your parents teach you any form of manners?"

You scoff, turning on your heels fixing him a piercing glare. The audacity he has to call you that. "First off, do not call me princess. Secondly, you are a heinous man for allowing and orchestrating vile legal entities, like this illegal fight club to exist. Thirdly, my parents do not give a flying fuck about my existence."

Sukuna smirks, simply amused by your boldness and sharp tongue. You definitely weren't a cop or some government agent, not with those clothes. "It's called capitalism, sweetheart. Surely you're familiar with that term since you dress like a white collar person."

"I'm a financial broker and a consultant." You clarify, the front of your shoes tapping impatiently while it echoes in the cold but smelly lockeroom, waiting for your cousin to change. You can hear him grumble and huff in irritation about you meddling in his life. The oh so sultry way he said sweetheart made your insides feel repulsed. There was no way you enjoyed him calling you pet names.

"Oh so you should be aware then. You deal with shady clients from time to time so you can't be that stupid. There are far seedy businessmen than me who do worst than what I run. You might have even funded them." The patronizing tone he used boiled your blood. You had half a mind to slap that smirk off his face and the other was to punch his face. You don’t care if he’s 6'6 feet with muscles or whatever, you on thin ice with violence tonight. You aren’t scared of any man. At least that's what your mind is telling yourself as you are front of the pink-haired male.

"You must get off being so arrogant. That prideful that you had to resort to shady businesses to get through in life?" You smirk with vehemence. Satisfied that the grin was gone and replaced by a scowl, you took it further. "You must have a fucked up life that you needed to get by like a vulture and work your way up-" you were cut off when Sukuna was suddenly in front of you.

The confidence you had inside died instantly when you saw just how dark his face got and those looming red eyes staring at you like you were a dangerous insect. If looks could kill, you'd be incinerated. It was frightening and erotic the way he was towering over you, ready to pounce you like a predator.

"For someone who's a professional businesswoman, you sure got a mouth that acts like they can fucking talk to others however they want." He growls out, the tension so thick, even Hiroshi stopped moving. You couldn't tell if your cousin was scared or not, not when his eyes commanded you to look at him. "You should really be careful with who you're talking too. You think you can just come in here and think you're the shit. Get the fuck outta here with that attitude." Sukuna is keenly aware of your bossy attitude, along with your bravery. He does admire it dearly, but sometimes people like you need to be reminded of their place. He can think of many ways to put you in your place and do the nastiest and sinful things to let you know who's dominant.

"Oh I will." You utter, regaining the bravery back to look at him. "I don't plan on coming back here and neither is Hiroshi."

"No, what the fuck!? You can't just tell me not to come here and force my life around!" The irritated voice of your 18-year old cousin shouts in the lockeroom. He reappears in a black wifebeater tank top, black joggers, a white baseball cap worn backwards and black and white converses. His face, fueled with rage and hurt despite the few yet prominent bruises on his face fills you with regret. Maybe you should have kept a closer eye on him in school.

"Yes you are and I said so. Get your stuff and let's go." You order him, yet he refuses, his toned biceps crossing his chest in indignation.

"Fuck that! You’re not my mom just because you’re raising me! I am not gonna let you do what you want me to do just because it doesn't go with your "white collar" bullshit!" Hiroshi spat. Your eyes widen in shock for a split second, hurt by how he replied, and Hiroshi knew he fucked up by saying the first words he didn't mean to say. But you instantly regain composure and was about to respond coldly until a deep tone interrupted.

"What a family feud you are causing here." The feigned surprised voice of Sukuna makes you bristle, giving him a death stare. Seriously why is this man even in your presence.

"He can leave tonight. Let him recover and rest from his bruises. But," He looks to you with that same dark expression that sent shivers down your spine, and it was the good kind of shivers, "if you think you can just house arrest my top fighter and micro-manage him, he's part of this world now and can do as much as he pleases, princess. So you shouldn't stop him."

The challenge he declared to you made your competitive side ablaze. You faced him head-on with a fearsome look of your own. "Hiroshi is not coming back here and that's final. Hiroshi, let's go."

What a conceited, self-centered bitch you are. He chuckles in his thoughts. Now he was interested in you and your confidence. Just as she swipes his arm with her shoulder, her classy and expensive heels echoing the tiled floor, he eyes his top fighter who was furious at the thought of being forbidden from coming back here. Sukuna stops Hiroshi by the shoulder, making the IED teen look at him.

"Don't worry kid, you're still allowed here. Can't have my top fighter out of the game now. We'll figure something out, but for now just go home and rest up." He hears Hiroshi grunt out a low "fine" before he storms out of the lockeroom with veiled rage.

As for you...he really is intrigued by your beauty, your confidence and finesse. But that attitude of yours has to be fixed. Give it time and you'll warm up to him soon.

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

I am excited but nervous to write this series. I hope I did Sukuna justice with his personality here.

#jujutsu kaisen au #fight club au #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #reader is female #reader is sassy #sukuna #this is a fic i am nervous to write #i hope this is okay!

17 notes · View notes

vampyrsutton · 1 year

Text

KarmaXNagisa~Corruption

Summary:

Assassin training all those years ago had really brought Nagisa out of his shell. Now, years later, the old class is fixing up their old building, and Karma can’t wait to learn just how much more he can corrupt the genderless assassin.

Ao3 Tags:

Corruption, Kinktober 2020, Riding, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Post-Time Skip, Inappropriate Use of Assassin Techniques, Teasing, Petnames, Akabane Karma is a Little Shit, Shiota Nagisa is a Brat, Nonbinary Shiota Nagisa

“I see someone hasn’t grown a bit since we left this place.” Karma hummed in a sing-song voice as he propped his elbow on the bluenette’s shoulder.

A disgruntled sigh left the shorter of the two. “Do you have to do that every time we see each other? I grew a centimeter!” They pouted as they looked up at the red head before breaking into a smile. “Good to see you again, Karma. It’s been what, like a week?”

Karma snickered at Nagisa’s sass. “Give or take, yeah.” He shrugged, not moving his arm from where it rested seeing as Nagisa made no move to remove it as he looked up at the old building hidden in the forest. “So we’re really fixing it up, huh?”

Nagisa turned their fond smile on the old building now, remembering the chaos they all experienced some seven years ago. “Yeah. He did a lot for us. Can’t just let it be in vain, right?”

The red head gave a vague hum in response as he stretched. “Guess we better start helping the others then, huh? I take it Terasaka and I will be doing all the higher stuff since we were the only ones to break 180 centimeters?”

“Probably,” Nagisa shrugged as they followed behind the taller. “Probably Sugaya too…Karma you’re dark aura is back.” Nagisa sighed, “You’re going to start chaos aren’t you?”

“Me? Never~” Karma snickered, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “Well, maybe a little. For old times sake.”

Nagisa couldn’t help but laugh. “So do you want to fill me in on whatever it is I’m about to be dragged into orrr?”

Karma turned around to walk backwards, still one for the dramatics. “Now where’s the fun in that?” He hummed with a wicked smirk as he leaned down to whisper in Nagisa’s ear. “Besides, you like when I surprise you, don’t you my little kitsune?”

Nagisa immediately flushed red as they looked around to make sure no classmates were close enough to hear as he gulped. “I-I still don’t understand why you chose that pet name.”

“Because I’ve fought against you. Viper or Python would probably be more appropriate, but those aren’t very sexy are they?”

Nagisa hid under the hat they had brought to work outside. “Those don’t fit either,” they mumbled. “Why does everyone still say that?”

Karma chuckled, “Hmm, maybe you’re right.” He moved the hat away to let his gold eye meet blue. “After all snakes can’t be tamed can they?”

Nagisa thought their face must have looked like Karma’s hair at this point. “F-foxes can be tamed?”

“They can be bred to be yeah.” Karma shrugs, rolling his eyes fondly at the other focusing on the wrong part in an attempt to change the subject. “Or you can train them. They may still bite the hand that feeds them, but that’s what you get when you try to tame something free. Though I’ve done a rather good job with you haven’t I, kitsune?”

Something changed in Nagisa’s eyes even as their blush continued to grow, but before Karma could wake whatever that was up completely, Kayano and Kataoka called them over to start working. Karma was annoyed for all of two second before he noticed that look turn almost territorial and sent daggers under Karma’s arm.

‘Ohohoho~ This might just work even better than expected~’ Karma hummed as he straightened up and turned to the two that had put themselves in charge, and acting as though he hadn’t just gotten the bluenette riled up and left him hanging.

“Coming ladies, we were just catching up is all~” Karma looked over his shoulder with another wicked smirk. “Right, Nagisa?”

He noticed the other swallow before nodding. “Yeah, just catching up.”

They gave a small smile, but Karma could still see the look had never left their eyes. ‘Oh this is going to be fun.’

All present were separated into tasks which in turn separated Karma and Nagisa. Karma ended up with who he expected and told to work on painting and trimming the trees, but every now and again he could feel eyes on him. As the day continued on, he ended up taking off his jacket from the heat and felt the eyes return full force.

‘I had planned to devour them, but why do I suddenly feel like I’m the prey now?’ Karma thought to himself as he painted a rather inappropriate shape on the wall to be painted over by an annoyed Sugaya.

“Dude! We’re not fourteen anymore! Stop painting dicks on the wall! Aren’t you a government official now?” The silver haired man glared.

Karma just smirked at the other from his five centimeter advantage. “I am. Your point? Am I not allowed to have fun anymore? I’ve been so bored lately too~.” Karma’s face turned devilish, “I think you all remember what happens when I get bored.”

Sugaya paled slightly but shrugged. “Still psychotic I see. Fine, paint all the shit you want. Whatever. Just paint over it when you’re done.”

Karma’s face returned to normal. “Really? Thank you Sugaya-kun~” He smiled, acting totally surprised that he got his way.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” The silver haired man grumbled, going off to paint another part of the building and leave Karma to his own devices.

Karma smirked when the other turned around before going back to painting normally. He continued down the hallway towards the former teachers' office before stopping when he heard a thud come from inside.

'I thought the guys went the other way?' Karma hummed, creeping up to door without a sound like how he learned back in middle school. ‘So who’s there?’

Karma grabbed a broom from next to the door before peaking inside, but finding nothing of interest at a glance until he saw an old baseball rolling around by the open window. ‘Must have gotten blown down by the wind?’ The redhead thought as he walked over to it before smiling fondly when he realized it was the Anti-Sensei baseball.

“Guess the goons missed something after all.” Karma chuckled as he picked it up. “I’m surprised it’s still holding up, but then again it hasn’t been touched in seven years. He’s his team’s ace now I think so it wasn’t a complete flop.” He hummed, tossing it up and down in his hand as he moved to head back into the hall.

He didn’t make it to the hall.

He didn’t even make it passed the door before a blur of blue entered his vision and he stumbled back before his shirt was grabbed with a leg hooked around his as he was pulled to the ground with a lap full of Nagisa. He sat there for a moment, stunned as he instinctively glanced around and realized his exits had been blocked while he was lost down memory lane.

‘They never fucking changed did they?’ Karma thought as he breathed out a laugh.

“Ah yes, thank you for the reminder why you had elite hitmen recruiting you out of middle school .” Karma laughed from where he had propped himself on his elbows. “So what can I do for you, my little Viper? Hmm, maybe that does work?”

Nagisa just smiled sweetly, making Karma wonder if he had teased too far earlier. It was Nagisa’s normal smile but he had still seen it used far too many times before somebody met their downfall, and he was in a far too vulnerable position to be comfortable seeing it now.

‘Well, shit.’ Karma sighed internally even as he kept his smirk in place.

“Aw, come on, kitsune. What’s wrong? Did someone get riled up earlier from a little teasing in their ear?”

“Hmmm,” Nagisa hummed, looking at Karma thoughtfully who did not like the look in their eyes one bit. “Maybe. But you ran off, and it took so long to get the girls to let me stop working for a bit so I was just left alone with my thoughts.” They leaned down now to whisper in Karma’s ear now. “Which we both know is never good.”

‘I planned to corrupt them, but why do I feel like I’m about to get the tables turned on me?’ Karma chuckled, blowing his warm breathe past Nagisa’s ear and watching it and the rest of their face turn red. ‘Nah, I can still control this.’

“Is that so? Tell me Nagisa,” he pulled their face by their chin to look at him, “what exactly were those thoughts about, my little Viper. Huh, yes I think I will keep using that since I currently have a snake sat in my lap.”

Nagisa’s cheeks were dark from the proximity and remembering where they were, but they still rolled their eyes at the nickname. “Why are you like this?”

“You’d be bored without me teasing you,” Karma laughed as he played with the hair by the other’s ear. “So?”

“So what?” Nagisa hummed, leaning into the touch distractedly.

“So, what were you thinking about that made you so hopelessly desperate to see me that you had to come ambush me in the teachers’ office?”

Nagisa’s face went completely red and it was obvious that whatever fire had been ignited was extinguished by their embarrassment. “W-well, I-um…”

‘Cute.’ “Words, Kitsune.”

Blue eyes closed for a second as a breathe was taken, and when they reopened the look had returned, backed by determination.

Karma felt the familiar snake curling around him as he smiled innocently. ‘I’ve dug my own grave.’

“I was just curious as to what all that talk was about taming me?” Nagisa asks with a closed eyed smile that holds a familiar and dangerous glow when they reopen. “After all,” Nagisa nudges Karma’s legs apart behind them before sliding between them. “From what I can tell, I have the fearsome demon lord Karma wrapped around my finger.”

‘This is how I die, huh?’ Karma reached out and pet the blue hair between his knees. “How do you figure that, short stuff?”

This earned him a glare and a pout before the ‘innocent’ smile returned and Karma found his fly undone without so much as a sound.

‘Shit, that never gets old.’ The redhead thought to himself as small hands made quick work of his getting his briefs out of the way and freeing his half hard cock. He had a bit of a thing for danger, okay? Sue him. You stand on the receiving end of Nagisa’s assassin stare and tell him how you’re holding up.

“Well he seems to agree,” Nagisa hummed, leaning down and leaving a kiss on the tip.

Little Karma gave an appreciative twitch as Karma stared at it blankly. ‘Traitor.’

“Well it’s a dick, they don’t complain about much,” Karma shrugs.

“But you complain all the time,” Nagisa smiles.

“Why you little- Ahmph!” Karma was cut off by Nagisa suddenly taking him whole and him covering his own mouth to muffle the surprised moan.

Nagisa looked up at him innocently and Karma didn’t know whether to laugh at Nagisa trying to look innocent with cock in their mouth or strangle them for being such a little shit. Given the things they were doing with their tongue, Karma chose the latter, chuckling lightly.

“Are you really trying to give me puppy eyes with my dick in your throOoat~ Fuck!”

What was no doubt a giggle sent vibrations down Karma’s cock and he leaned his head back with a curse. “Fuuuuck~ What happened to the shy kid from junior high who couldn’t even tell Kayano had feelings for them?”

Nagisa flattened their tongue against the underside on their way up where they let go with a pop. “I specifically remember a certain devil promising to absolutely ruin me during our first time and everytime after.” The bluenette reached into Karma’s pocket and took out his wallet where they pulled out a packet of lube before shimmying out of their own pants to not get them gross. “He’s rather persuasive.” A knowing smirk.

Karma’s mouth ran dry as he watched Nagisa resume their previous position between his legs and reach a lubed finger behind them to their hole where it disappeared. He really didn’t think he’d get this far, but god damn he wasn’t complaining.

“My my, I might have to get some pointers from this dEvil of y-yours-shit. Nagisa Shiota. The star assassin of 3E. Sucking cock as t-they finger themself open in the teacher’s office. What would our classmAtes-fuck-think? What if they come looking?” Karma smirks even as Nagisa resumes their previous actions.

A moan travels down Karma’s cock and he hisses as he throws his head back, hand gripping blue locks as he restrains himself from thrusting into the wet heat.

“Ohohoho~ Like that idea do we?” He choked down another sound at the affirmative moan. “Oh, I really have ruined you haven’t I, kitsune?”

Nagisa looks up at him with the most innocent face they can muster with a throat full of cock and three fingers deep in their own ass and moans.

“Mmahhh~ You cheeky little shit,” Karma laughed breathlessly. “I see there’s still training to be done.”

Nagisa’s look turns pleading as they fully relax their throat and stop moving their head, tapping the fingers still in their hair.

Karma gives a low groan when Nagisa’s movements stop before he catches on to what the bluenette wants him to do and his smirk turns absolutely devilish.

“Want me to fuck you’re throat, baby?” He gets another moan down his cock in response that earns a curse. “Shit, keep that up and I’m not going to make it to fucking that tight little ass of yours.”

Karma’s not sure he likes the look in Nagisa’s eyes when he says that, but continues on, pulling his cock almost all the way out of the bluenette’s mouth before thrusting back in, earning a moan from both.

They’ve done this before. Karma knows what Nagisa wants and he delivers, thrusting in as hard and fast as he can without risking damage with the occasional slow glide of the vein against the bluenette’s tongue. Their former classmates would definitely notice something up with Nagisa’s voice that wasn’t there previously, but with Nagisa hallowing his cheeks so good and moaning vibrations down his cock? Yeah, Karma couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck and knew the class analyzer obviously didn’t either if they allowed this in the first place.

“Shit, Nagisa,” Karma pants when the smaller swallows around him. “Fuck, so good.” He’s close, he knows he is but fuck it he’ll just fuck the bluenette again when they go back to probably his place later. “Shit, Nagisa I’ll get inside later. I’m gonna-”

There’s suddenly a clap of hands in front of his face and his whole body locks up as he stares in shock at the smirking imp pulling off of his apparently also stunned cock.

‘Did they just fucking stun clap me out of an orgasm?!’ Karma internally screamed as Nagisa cheekily licked some pre-cum off of his tip before standing up.

“Hey, that actually worked this time.” Nagisa’s voice was absolutely wrecked as they crouched over Karma’s lap, “Didn’t have the foresight to bite your tongue this time, huh?”

Nagisa just earned a glare in return as Karma twitched his fingers. “Huh, guess it’s less effective when the victim isn’t fearing for their life. No matter, I still have time to do this.”

Karma’s eyes shone with confusion now before rolling back slightly as Nagisa sank down onto his length, a moan leaving the mouth he couldn’t quite close yet.

“Mmmm~ shit. Big. Ahhh~ Karma~” Nagisa let out little moans as they sank further onto the red head’s cock. “So good~”

Karma could only sit there as he was essentially used as a dildo, fire burning in his golden eyes as he watched his cock slowly disappear inside the blunette.

Nagisa snickered at the look on Karma’s face as he tried to twitch his jaw enough to bite himself out of the paralysis. “Aww~ what’s wrong, little devil-ahh~” They found their prostate as they bottomed out.

Karma’s eyes squeezed shut as he was enveloped fully in Nagisa’s tight heat. ‘Fucking hell! Let me smash you cocky little!’

Nagisa smirked as they watched Karma’s struggle before lifting themselves back up to the tip and dropping back down. The choked sound that left Karma’s mouth was music to their ears as they held onto Karma’s shoulders before proceeding to ride him.

“HckAhhh~” A moan left Karma’s mouth as his head managed to slump forward. ‘Shit. Ahhh. Fuck. Yeah this works.’

As Nagisa rode them both closer to orgasm, Karma used what little neck function he currently held to lift his head just enough to slam his mouth shut on the side of his tongue like he’d done all those years before. ‘Fuck! Shit!’ Karma cursed internally as his arms dropped from their former position and blood pooled in his mouth. It hurt like a bitch but at least he had control of his body again.

Nagisa hadn’t noticed the tension leave Karma’s body as they continued to ride the red head like their life depended on it, but that just made their surprise all the better when slightly sharper than normal teeth started nipping at their neck and they let out a choked moan.

“Ahh~ No fair~! You got out! How?” Nagisa whined, even as they tilted their head to give Karma better access.

“Same way as last time, little kitsune.” Karma purred against their pulse.

Nagisa made a face. “You better not be getting blood on me.”

“I’ll clean it up. Now to pay you back for your little surprise.”

“Huh? What do you! Ah, Karma!”

Karma used his larger and stronger size to lift them both off the ground without ever pulling out before laying Nagisa back on one of the long abandoned desks. “Now, I believe I promised to ruin you everytime, right?”

Nagisa flushed red, all early bravado gone and their cock twitched at the display of strength. “W-we still have work to do, K-Karma.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll do your work since you did give that wonderful blowjob, and god do you sound so wrecked. Let’s wreck it even more shall we?” Karma smiled, face absolutely devilish.

“W-whAhhhh~ Kaaarmaaa~!”

Karma started thrusting into the bluenette ruthlessly, making the old desk creak with the force. “Thought you could just fucking stun clap me out of an orgasm without punishment did you?”

“Ahhh~ Karmaaa~ AHhhh~ SorRY There!” Nagisa seemed to have already forgotten where they were and they moaned loudly, back arching slightly when Karma found their prostate.

“Hmmm? Oh you want me to hit Here?” Karma gave their prostate another thrust and earned another load moan of affirmation before proceeding to abuse that spot.

Nagisa arched off the desk as their prostate was pounded into without pause and they moaned loudly.

‘We’re gonna have some explaining to do.’ Karma smirked as he felt his release draw near once more and could tell by the way Nagisa was squeezing him they weren’t too far either.

“Ahhhh~ Karmaaa~ Close! I-I’m close~ Mmmm!” Nagisa moaned out loudly, reaching down to stroke their neglected cock, relieved when Karma didn’t make them stop.

Karma’s eyes were closed as his rhythm stuttered and he leaned over the bluenette and bit into their shoulder as he came.

Nagisa cried out at the burst of pain that mixed with the pleasure and the knowledge that Karma’s abnormally sharp canines were definitely going to leave a mark again sent them over the edge a few strokes later.

Karma was still hovering over Nagisa as he licked at the bite mark. Both were panting heavily as they came down from their highs.

“Shit.” Karma breathed, finally standing up to look down at Nagisa. “You. Are a little shit. “

“I learned from the best” Nagisa croaked with a smile before immediately turning scarlet when they heard how destroyed they sounded.

Karma laughed now. “You’re lucky they turned on the water before we started working. Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.”

Nagisa nodded, making a move to slip off the desk before almost immediately falling to the floor as their legs tried to give out and they glared up at Karma.

Karma was cackling now. “I just teased you! You initiated this!” He snickered as he helped the smaller into their pants and lifted them over his shoulder like they weighed nothing just to piss them off further.

Nagisa was indeed pouting as they were carried to the bathroom.

#assassination classroom #karma x nagisa #karma akabane #nagisa shiota #post-time skip #kinktober #kinktober 2020

52 notes · View notes