#looking through my sketchbook and realizing ive had it for at least 2 or so years now

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Actively beginning to catch myself going down thought spirals and this has to be a good sign actually

[bluemoviegirl]

UNDER THE SAME SUN CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 1 HERE

joel miller x reader

tw: death (ah oh)

summary: maybe you didn’t hate Joel before, but you sure do now. And he hates you just as much.

wc: 5k

a/n: im really excited to turn this into a full story!! ive got so many ideas lined up. again, please do comment wether you liked it, what you liked etc. it makes my day!! also cant believe i got like 80 likes on chapter 1! i still have no idea how tumblr works lol

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Chapter 2.

It’s Thursday, two days since you went on that repair job with Joel Miller. You had thought about it a handful of times, thought about the sassier replies you could’ve given to his sassy answers, rolling your eyes every time you came up with something better.

You’re sitting on your bed with your sketchbook on your lap but your pencil is just hovering over it. Your mind is everywhere but the paper. Focus, just focus and draw something you like! Easy. Easy….. Nope. Nothing.

Instead, a different idea pops into your head. As you walk into your living room, you notice how bleak it really is. Even with the sun shining in on it, it’s just not you. At least not the you that you used to be. Maybe some paint will do it some good?  Your fingers start tracing along the walls. They’re so empty. Simple plain white walls, not even a single frame hanging on them.

As if the inspiration has taken over, you start sketching on the walls. They’re simple abstract lines and shapes, simple flowers making their way through it.

After a while, you step back and look. You seem satisfied as there’s a smile on your face you can’t seem to wipe off.

You need some fresh air, you’ve been cooped up in your apartment  and it’s now around 4pm.

After the sketching, the motivation to get it done tonight is too big to ignore. So you’re headed to the Workshop where they’d probably have some unused colors laying around. You put on your boots and coat and shut the door behind you.

The feel of the outside world is different from the stillness of your apartment. A sharp chill clings to your skin, slipping through the gaps in your coat. The cold air tugs at you, waking your senses, making you all too aware of the space around you.

By the time you leave the workshop, you’re lugging three paint cans—deep blue, light blue, and a pale yellow—and your arms are already burning. You jammed a couple of brushes into your coat pockets, their handles sticking out awkwardly. The buckets knock against your legs as you walk, heavier than you anticipated. Every few minutes, you have to stop and switch arms.

What the hell were you thinking?

“Y’need any help with that?” You hear a voice behind you. It takes you a moment to register that they’re talking to you. When you turn and see who it is, relief washes over you.

“Tommy,” you exhale, dropping the buckets onto the snow-covered ground. “Yes, please.”

He huffs a laugh and steps forward, easily scooping up two of the buckets. “Damn, you weren’t kidding. These things are heavy as hell.”

“Thank you, I was seriously about to just leave ‘m there.”  You chuckle as you pick up the last bucket. “To my place, please.” You say nudging your head. You were about a street away from your apartment.

“It’s no problem, couldn’t let you bust your ass like that.” The two of you start walking, the sound of crunching snow filling the silence. He gives you a sideways glance. “Not that it’s my business, but… what exactly are you doin’ with all this paint?”

“I’m going to paint my walls.” You say, kicking a ball of snow in front of you. “Like, a mural kind of. Not just paint the whole walls.” You sounded a bit unsure, you didn’t ask anyone for permission but you figured you didn’t have to right? Now talking to Tommy has you a bit nervous.

“Oh that’s cool! A mural.. I didn’t know ya were a painter.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I mean, I wouldn’t call myself a painter. But I like drawing. Figured I’d try.” You smirk. “Worst case, I’ll just paint over it.”

Tommy chuckles. “Well, if it turns out bad, just tell people it’s modern art. Folks’ll eat that up.”

You snort. “Noted.”

“So, is it big? Like, a whole wall kinda thing?”

“Yeah, pretty much the entire side of the living room wall.” You tuck your hair behind your ear. “I already sketched it out. Hoping to get it done today.” A pause. “Wanna see?”

“Yeah, I’m real curious.”

“It’s nothing crazy, a toddler could probably draw it.” You say, you’ve always been nervous about showing your art to others, even if it was just a sketch.

“I’m sure it’s good.” Tommy replies.

As you both enter the apartment, Tommy sets the paint buckets down inside and you remove the paint brushes from your pockets.

“Well look at that, that looks great already.” Tommy immediately says, his eyes actually lighting up a bit. You tug at your earlobe, at the little hoop earring you had in. “Really? You’re just saying that.”

He turns at you as you say that and his brows pulled a bit together with a smile at his lips. “I’m serious!” He turns back to the wall. “With the paint n’ all, I can see it lookin’ real nice.”

You smiled a bit wider, his remark giving you a bit of a confidence boost. “Thanks Tommy. Oh, would you like something to drink?” You quickly say, having forgotten he’s a guest in your apartment and also someone who just helped you carry those paint buckets.

Tommy looks at the time and back at you. “Oh no I’m okay, needda get going. Thank you though.” He makes his way to the door and turns around one more time before shutting it. “It’s gonna look great!”

You chuckle to yourself as you watch him close the door. He was being very cheerful, which influenced the way you were feeling too.

Time to bring this wall to life.

Okay, it’s been three hours. You’re covered in paint and the wall isn’t even halfway done.. You look at the wall, you’re just one woman trying to paint the entire wall and having set the deadline for yourself to today. Come on, set some realistic expectations, you literally haven’t painted since forever.

You deserve a drink. You can’t even be bothered with a change of clothes, the paint stained clothes will have to do.

As you enter the bar, the familiar mix of voices and clinking sounds of glasses immediately puts you at ease. Like it’s a little approval of you wanting to relax. You take your usual spot at the bar and Knox makes his way over to you from behind the bar.

“You’ve been painting?” He asks you as he leans his palm on the wood, glancing at your clothes.

You look down at your clothes, already forgotten you wore these clothes. “Don’t even mention it, I’ve been painting my ass off for hours and it’s not even close to finished.” You sigh and smile to Knox. Knox laughs, wiping down the bar. "Sounds like the canvas put up a hell of a fight. Want me to pour one out for your sanity?"

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” You say as you look around as to who else is here. You hadn’t realized it but Tommy and Joel were there too, sitting in a booth across from the room. They hadn’t seen you and you felt a bit silly for being covered in paint now.

Knox slides over the drink to you and you two catch up about your current ‘paint project’. “Sounds like to me you just need another set of hands.” He states.

“Ugh yeah maybe. But I don’t really know if I want to saddle anyone with this task. I want to finish it tomorrow so I just have it done. Otherwise my heads just going to keep spinning on and on about it.” You bring the glass up to your lips as you watch Knox just chuckle back at you.

“Knox, a beer and a whiskey will ya?” You hear a gruff voice a couple feet from you. It’s a recognizable voice and you look over to see Joel standing at the bar.

You’re subtly (not as subtle as you think) staring him up and down, you knew many women around here thought he was a catch. You could understand why, he doesn’t speak much, but when he does, his voice is low and rough, his jaw is strong, lined with just enough scruff to make you wonder how it’d feel against your ski-

“You’re starin’.” Joel says, without even glancing your way. Not expecting that, you choke a bit on the sip of beer you had just taken, quickly swallowing down another cough and your face immediately reddens. “I was not.” You reply quickly. You notice the smallest glance to you before his eyes turn back to Knox, who has two drinks in his hands.

You focus back on your drink, immediately starting to daydream again, you could always get so caught up in that. Your mind was thinking about the wall, and what the finished result would look like. You could picture yourself bundled up on the couch and staring at the art you’ve made.

“Here ya go, Joel.” Knox says, handing over the drinks as Joel nods and is about to walk back to Tommy.

“Actually Joel-“ Knox says as Joel stops walking and turns his head to Knox.

Joel had barely taken a sip of his whiskey when Knox leaned on the counter, smirking like he had something planned.

“You busy tomorrow?” Knox asked, way too casual.

Joel gave him a look. “Why?”

Knox shrugged, wiping down the bar like he wasn’t watching for a reaction. “Just got someone lookin’ for an extra set of hands. Figured you might be free.”

Joel exhaled, already tired of whatever Knox was up to. “What kinda work?”

“Painting.”

Joel huffed. “Pass.”

Knox grinned like he expected that. “Didn’t think you were the type to turn down a favor.”

“That depends on who’s askin’.”

Knox only smiled at that, tapping his fingers against the counter. “Well, let’s just say it ain’t anyone you gotta worry about.” He slid Joel’s drink back toward him. “And if you’re feelin’ charitable, all you gotta do is show up tomorrow.”

Joel eyed him suspiciously, but Knox had already moved on, pouring a drink for someone else like he hadn’t just set him up.

Suddenly two hands shake Joel’s shoulders. “What’s taking so long?” Tommy says.

“Knox asked me a favor.” Joel turns to Tommy, nudging his hands off of his shoulders.

“What favor?” “To help someone paint.” Joel huffed again, as if it was so crazy for Joel to paint.

“Paint? Who needs help paintin-“ Tommy’s eyes shoot to you, you were completely oblivious as you had zoned out but Tommy obviously remembered helping you carry paint, and the fact you were currently covered in paint. He grins and you could almost see a lightbulb lighting up above his head.  “You should help Knox out. Come on!” Tommy says, taking the beer from Joel’s hand.

Joel’s brows knit together. “What?” “Come onnn, I know you’re free tomorrow.” All Tommy could think about was that this could finally be the opportunity for Joel and you to tolerate each other. This way Tommy wouldn’t need to find someone else for the repairs. Plus, Joel could use some womanly influence in his life.

“Hm.”

-----

The next morning, you’re up and ready to start painting again. You didn’t bother changing out of your sleep clothes—a big sweater you cut the neckline off, some sweats and a pair of fluffy socks.— You still remember the day you found these socks two years ago, buried in the back of some abandoned store. It had felt like a gift from heaven.

You grab a paintbrush, dipping it into the soft blue before bringing it to the wall—

Knock, knock.

You weren’t expecting anyone.

When you open the door, you’re even more surprised by who standing there. And by the looks of it, he’s… also surprised?

“Joel?” You say, the paintbrush still dangling between your fingers as the cold breeze from outside makes it way in.

The cold morning air seeps into your apartment, making you shiver. Joel blinks at you, eyes flicking from your oversized sweater to the paintbrush still dangling between your fingers.

“Wrong house,” he mutters, already turning to leave.

But then his eyes catch on the paintbrush again, and something clicks. He exhales sharply, rolling his eyes. “Son of a bitch.”

You frown. “What?”

“Knox and Tommy,” he grumbles. “Set me up.”

Your confusion deepens. “Set you up for what?”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m here to help you paint.”

You blink. “To help me paint?”

“Yep.”

“I didn’t ask for help.”

“I know.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Joel shakes his head, already stepping back. “I’ll see you Thursday.”

“Wait!” You’re not even sure why you stopped him. But something about the idea of having him here, working on this with you, doesn’t seem so bad. Maybe Joel wasn’t so terrible. And maybe—just maybe—this would make the upcoming job together more bearable.

“I could use the help,” you say quickly. “There’s… uh, some corners and edges I can’t reach.”

Bullshit, you’re tall and capable.

Joel sighs again, like he’s already regretting this, but after a moment, he steps inside and shrugs off his coat.

Now you’re standing in the middle of your living room, suddenly hyper-aware of how awkward this is.

Joel glances at the wall, then at the paint. “So?”

“Right, uhm.” You hand him some paintbrushes and point to the paint. “It’s simple, just paint over the lines.”  He nods.

"Let’s get this over with."

The room settles into silence as you both work. Minutes pass, the only sound being the soft scrape of bristles against the wall. You don’t mind the quiet, but it feels too heavy with Joel. Too thick.

So, instinctively, you start humming to yourself. Knockin’ on heavens door..

A few seconds later, Joel glances at you. “Bob Dylan?”

His voice startles you just slightly, and you glance over. “Yeah. Bob Dylan. You like him?”

He dips his brush into the paint again, nodding. “Mhm.”  After another moment of silence, Joel speaks up again. “You sketched all this?” His tone is unreadable.

“Yeah, ya like?” You smile, hoping for a tiny bit of approval.

He just grunts. “’S alright.”

“I mean, I’ll take it.”  Suddenly you feel kinda silly at the outfit you’re wearing. It’s as if he could read your mind cause he’s giving you a once-over before turning back to the wall.

You fiddle with your locket as you take a step back from the wall, checking out the way the paint is looking so far, but also quietly admiring how good Joel looks with a paint brush.

“What’s your favorite color?” You blurt out.

Joel thinks for a moment. “Green.” You both say at the same time, his eyes snapping to yours.

“I figured you’d be a green person.” You grin to yourself, feeling smart.

“What does that even mean?”

You shrug. “Nothing... Nothing at all.” You chuckle.

"You say somethin’ like that, you gotta explain it." He lowers the paintbrush, eyes meeting yours.

"Nope. You’ll just have to live with the mystery, Miller..”

"That’s ridiculous."

"Maybe." You chuckle as you continue painting. Why was this Joel Miller not that bad? It’s like his guard is let down just a little bit and he tolerated you just a bit more. And damn you enjoyed it. If it stayed like this, repair jobs would actually be fun.  

After a while, you guys are done. You can’t believe it, but you are. To your surprise the wall looks.. great. The shades of blue made a beautiful pattern across the wall, the flowers being accented with the yellow really pulling it together. This felt like it could actually be your home.

Maybe you guys hadn’t chatted a lot but it did feel like you booked some progress with this potential friendship.

You wipe your face, not realizing the blue paint you’re smearing across your cheek. “I can’t believe we finished it.” You say as you look at Joel, who’s put down the paintbrush.

“Don’t think I’ll pick up another paintbrush for a while after this.”  He says, his voice having a light huff to it. “Not exactly how I wanted to spend my morning.”

“You’ll live.” You reply, not bothered by his snarky comments.

You chuckle quietly, Joel having somewhat of a sense of humor made him come across more human instead of just the stoic guy he acted like. It was obvious to you that there was so much more behind the walls he put up, not that you would ever push him to talk about it. You barely knew the man.

Joel rubs his jaw as he turns to you. “I oughtta get goin’.”

“Oh yeah, of course.” You say as you follow him to the front door. He puts on his coat and walks onto the porch, turning to you again. You leaned against the doorframe. “…Thank you.. for today. Even though you were set up to coming here.” You grin as you look down to your feet before meeting his eyes again.

“Yeah well, had a free day. Don’t mention it.” He suddenly steps closer to you. Your breath hitches ever so slightly, which you quickly try to control again but are unable to when he raises his hand to your jaw.

His palm is warm, calloused, steady. His thumb swipes along your cheek, smearing away a streak of dried paint. It’s such a simple movement, but it knocks the breath right out of you. Your eyes widen just a little bit, Joel noticed, thinking he may have overstepped. He’s quick to retreat his hand and tuck it in his jean pocket.

“Some paint on your cheek.” He says, clearing his throat. You quickly nod.

“I’ll see you Thursday.” He says.

“Right, yeah. Thursday.” You manage to say before swallowing. Why did that just make you feel a bit flustered? Quit it, you’re desperate.

--

When Thursday finally rolls around, you find yourself lingering near the horses earlier than needed, arms crossed against the cold. Dread curls in your stomach at the thought of another trek into the woods, but—much to your own annoyance—the idea of spending the day with Joel Miller doesn’t seem quite as bad.

Which is probably why, for some unknown reason, you decided to put in extra effort today.

You had worn your hair down (something you never did when on the job). A nicer coat too, one that wasn’t as ripped, even though you’d changed four times before finally just going with it. Stupid. Dumb. And yet, here you were, tugging at the sleeves like it might somehow make a difference.

You scowl at yourself. It wasn’t for Joel. Not really. He didn’t even like you.

…Okay, maybe it was a little for Joel. But who could blame you? The world had already ended once—what harm was there in wanting to look a little nice for someone still standing in it? Even if that someone was someone who actually disliked you.

On the way to the outpost, everything was the same as last week. Not much for talking. Frankly, you didn’t know what to talk about. “The paint dried nicely.” You spoke. ‘The paint dried nicely.’ ??? Get a grip! You wanted to smack your forehead, but were able to resist. All Joel did was give you a little nod.

When you two finally arrived at the outpost, you tugged again at your sleeves. Sure, the coat looked nicer but it didn’t even fit well. It left your hands cold and you stupidly didn’t bring any gloves.

Again, as if Joel can read your mind, he throws some gloves at you.  

Your head snaps up at him and he’s just stood there, waiting for you to respond. “You don’t have to-“ You say, looking at his bare hands. “M’ fine.” Joel said before heading inside of the outpost. Your lips parted, as if searching for words, before closing again.

The repair went somewhat smoothly, now that the floorboards had been removed, it was time to put in some new planks. Joel would saw them and put them into the floor. Your duty was to hammer them down with the nails Tommy had brought by to you earlier that week.

You were doing a decent job, the nails going in smoothly. You could tell Joel was satisfied because no snarky remarks were being made.

You sat on the floor for a second, admiring your nail-skills. “Honestly, I’m doing amazing.” You say grinning. “Like, I could make this my thing. Nailing nails. The nailer.” You said, imaginging people coming to you to nail things down.

You chuckle at yourself.

Joel just rolled his eyes over to you and back to the wood. “Good luck with that. The nailer.” He mumbles as he shook his head at the fact you didn’t even realize what that sounded like.

“So what did you do before the world ended? Like, job-wise?” You say, finally wanting to start a conversation. He finishes his sawing before answering. “Contracting.”

“Contracting? No wonder Tommy wanted you for this job.” You say before ramming in another nail, completely missing it the first time as you were too busy looking at Joel. Oops.

Joel saw and just shook his head lightly. “You?”

“Oh, I was still in high school.” You felt a bit dumb saying that, like you were bringing attention to the ‘little’ age gap the two of you had. Not that it was relevant.

He scoffed and parted his lips to start another sentence before being interrupted by a noise coming from outside. His eyes snap to the door and he puts down the saw, immediately going for his rifle.

“An infected?” You whispered as you stood up, also grabbing your rifle. Ignore the fact that you’d shot a rifle maybe twice. He just brings a finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. You quietly make your way next to him, your heart racing.

You guys step outside, the snow muffling your footsteps just a bit. The snow was falling down pretty heavily, making it harder to actually see anything.

But then Joel sees it, he holds up his hand, motioning for you to stop walking. There’s a man, just behind one of the trees, gripping a knife. He’s holding it up halfway, as if he’s unsure to surrender or not when we make eye-contact.

You and Joel both raise your rifle.

“Step out, now.” Joel raises his voice. “Now.”

The man steps out just a bit, slowly, bundled in layers of dirty clothing, fingers stiff with cold, face hollow with exhaustion. “D-don’t shoot, alright?!” The man says, his voice rough.

“You alone?” Joel’s voice was flat.

The man nodded quickly—too quickly. “Yes! I—I swear to God. I was just looking for shelter. It’s real cold!”

Joel’s rifle never wavered.

“Bullshit.”

The man’s breath hitched. “I—”

“I see your tracks,” Joel cut him off. “Heavy. Means you’ve been carrying.” He gestured his rifle toward the man’s feet. “Who were you with?”

“No one!” The man shook his head wildly, his voice rising, frantic. “I mean—I left them. They’re miles back—I swear.”

You look up at Joel as you’re not even really pointing your rifle at the man anymore. “Joel, he’s obviously alone.” You say to him.

He doesn’t reply, his eyes focused on the man.

“Joel?”  What is he going to do? The man just had a knife, he looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. He didn’t look like a threat. You furrowed your brows, Joel was ignoring you.

You inhaled sharply.

“Joel,” you repeated, quiet but firm. “He isn’t a threat.”  You plead.

He ignored you.

The man took a step forward, his eyes darting between you and Joel. “I just want some food man, a place to sleep-“ “Don’t move.” Joel said, firmly. His rifle stayed locked on the man’s chest.

You looked at Joel again and back at the man, your brows furrowing even more. Joel’s acting like you’re not even standing here.

And then—

The man shifted his weight.

Just barely.

Just enough for Joel to react.

The gunshot shattered the silence.

You flinched.

The man dropped his knife. His mouth parted—like he hadn’t fully registered it yet.

Then he collapsed, the red immediately soaking into the snow.

For a second, you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Your eyes widening as it hit you. Joel just killed that man. Your voice had meant nothing to him.

You turn your head to Joel, your mouth hanging a bit open, eyes widened, brows fully furrowed. He’s just standing there, reloading his rifle as if this was the most casual case in the world.

Joel exhaled, lowering his rifle. He was already stepping toward the body, as if this was justanother chore.

Something in you just snapped.

“What the fuck is wrong with you! He was—he was dropping the knife!” You took a step closer, your breath coming hard and fast. “He was surrendering, Joel!”

Joel didn’t look at you. He crouched down near the body, reaching for the knife still clenched in the man’s lifeless fingers.

All you feel is rage. He just killed that man and now he’s taking the knife as if it’s nothing.  “What is wrong with you!” You yell again.

Joel just walked past you back into the outpost.

“He was going to surrender! It’s not like he stood a fucking chance if he would attack!” You yelled at him but he gave no reaction, just packing up his bag.

“I’m talking to you!” You’re about to shove him out of pure rage, but before doing so, he gets grip on your wrist, stopping you. His eyes finally meeting yours. Now he looked at you.

And you hated the look in his eyes.

Not cold. Not regretful.

Just unbothered.

“He was gonna lunge,” Joel muttered, standing. “You didn’t see it.”

“I saw enough, I was there!” she shot back.

Joel scoffed, shaking his head. “No. Youdidn’t.”

All you felt was anger taking you over. “You don’t fucking know that, Joel! He was alone! And you—you just fucking shot him.”

You sounded hysterical. But you didn’t care. It was wrong, Joel was wrong. How could everything escalate this quickly?

Joel’s jaw flexed. “And if I’d hesitated? If he was lying? You’d be the one bleeding out in the snow, not him.”

You let out a harsh, humorlesslaugh. “Jesus Christ—do you even hear yourself?” You gestured at the body still laying in the snow outside of the outpost, your hands shaking. “He was just a guy, Joel. He wasn’t some monster!”

“You’re naive.” Joel just replied. His hand still gripping your wrist tightly. It wasn’t the fact that he called you that, it was the way he said it. With some sort of disgust, contempt. Like he actually despised you for wanting another human being to live. “You don’t get it, you think ‘cause you’ve survived so far you actually know what it’s like out here? You don’t.”

“Fuck you.”  You spat, forcing your wrist out of his grip. He didn’t even know you.

“No, fuck you,” he growled. “You still think there’s a choice? That we can afford to wait, or talk, or hesitate?” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “That kinda thinkin’ gets people killed.”

He walked outside, packing his bag onto the horse. You followed after, you weren’t done with this conversation. The way he was giving you no emotion back whatsoever while you were here, losing it, enraged you.

“Does it even bother you?” Your voice rough. You don’t know why you’re as furious as you are. You’ve seen many people die, you’ve been the reason many people had died. Yet the way you were dismissed, the way he was so cold. It triggered your PTSD, reminding you of a man you had tried to have long forgotten.

You step closer, voice sharp: “Who was it?”

His brows pull together, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Who did you lose to make you like this?” you spit. “Your wife? Your kid? Who was it that died and turned you into a heartless asshole?” It wasn’t a long shot, everyone has lost someone in the apocalypse.

Joel goes still.

That’s when you know you hit something.

For the first time, you sees it—just a flicker, barely a second—but it’s real anger, the kind that simmers so deep it could boil over at any second.

He quickly steps closer. Too close. His voice is dangerously low. His hands fist onto your coat collar, pulling you forward.

“Watch your mouth.”

You should stop. You should back down. Reasonable you, non-triggered you, would’ve backed down.

But you don’t.

Instead, you scoff. “Guess I was right, huh?”

And that’s it.

Joel’s jaw clenches so hard you can see the muscle twitch.

“You don’t know a goddamn thing about me,” he growls. “Not a single goddamn thing.” He aggressively lets go of your collar, making you stumble back.

And then he walks off. Just leaves you standing there, the air thick with something neither of them can take back. You drag your hands across your face as you lean back against the wall, wiping away the anger-tears that fell over your cheeks.

God, you feel stupid. Stupid for thinking, even for a second, that this morning—when you stood in front of the mirror smoothing down your hair, buttoning up your nicer coat—meant something. Stupid for thinking maybe today wouldn’t be so bad.

You felt furious, furious that there was a dead man outside the outpost, furious that you had no control over the situation whatsoever. Furious that your words didn’t matter to Joel.

But mostly? You feel humiliated and awful. You know you overstepped. It was a low blow. Especially from you, knowing you’re not too different from Joel at all. But you were still furious, Joel acted in such a cold way, it had made your stomach turn.

And that’s all it took for you to really hate Joel Miller, and the feeling might just be mutual.

[kryptored]

She’s Shady and Sketchy...(2)

I’m back. I really want to thank everyone for the feedback I received for part 1 of SSaS. The amount of notes I got was phenomenal, I almost couldn't believe it. Really, thank you everyone. 

Now, about part 2 - the typos during the group chat portion are as intended, because it’s not a group chat if no one’s screwing up what they're saying. I know they're supposed to speak French so, the formatting of their words are different, but I'm referencing the use of English in - you all get the point, right? Je ne parle pas français; I’ve only finished the elementary course. I tried to make it look authentic, but we’ll see. Also, a shout-out to @writingishfanonsideblog​ for pointing out the pun (you have no idea how long I was waiting for someone to see that). 

PART 2:...when she goes on and raves

In a room above the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie

Marinette is severely stressed. At the moment, she is reminding herself that she needs a break from everything – being Ladybug and the new Guardian, keeping up with her commissions, helping out at the bakery, being the class representative, etc. Clearly, it was somewhat working as Adrien could see from his position. He watches the girl lying down on his lap as he treads his fingers through her soft, dark hair. Her eyes are closed in content (kind of), the lines on her forehead slowly melting away. He smiles lopsidedly as he notices her cute nose crinkle and wiggle every few seconds, her lips in a pout as her mind continues to spew thoughts and ideas inside her mind. He reaches out a finger to boop her nose and says, “Hey, I can hear you thinking. You’re supposed to relax.”

Marinette opens her eyes, her brows even more furrowed. “And I told you that I can’t help it.” She tries to swat his hand that hovers over her face. Adrien laughs as he avoids her hand, returning to combing through her hair. She closes her eyes again and tries to go back to her halfway-decent relaxed state that Adrien so often made fun of her for. Oh, did she mention they’ve gotten closer?

To her amazement, Adrien had finally understood the extent of what Lila was doing. It was quite awkward at first, what with how Marinette was struggling to keep her composure in front of the same person she had fallen in love with beyond his looks. Adrien, on the other hand, was starting to realize that Marinette is someone so precious to him that he would do anything to help her, even if it meant he had to grow a backbone or two. It was working, thankfully, and had not backlashed on him. He had started to be less lenient with Lila’s inappropriate approach and invasion of his personal space, to which he made sure to mention to his father. For once, he felt that he was his father’s son because the day after his confession, he had found himself free of Lila’s grasp (literally and metaphorically). She was still modeling for the brand, though (to the disappointment of him and the many staff who found her performance lacking).

That did not mean the same for Marinette, though. He may have finally stood up to Lila, but Marinette was taking the brunt of her anger. Just recently, his friend told him how Lila was being more aggressive in her approaches, to the point where most of the class were starting to treat Marinette at arm’s length. They could clearly see that the class was taking sides, and it wasn’t theirs. Alya and Nino had been at the forefront of convincing him to talk sense into Marinette and giving Lila a chance. For some reason, they forgot how uncomfortable and mortified he felt whenever the latter came close to him without his permission. They weren’t that close, let alone friends. They were working the same job, at most. Physical contact was definitely not acceptable when he says so.

THE GOOD KIDS (11)

It’syagirlALYA: Hey, Lila. good to hear you’re doing fine, girl!

DeLila: I just don’t want to worry everyone.

It’syagirlALYA: It’s okay, don’t worry about it.

rose-pink: that’s right, Lila!

DeLila: anyway, about what I said…

            I just really think that marinette needs to be…

           Controlled.

jabberwocky: controlled? She’s not an animal.

sea-monkey: yeah, it kinda sounds…

                     haarhs

                     hars

                     harsh

DeLila: Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. Im just saying she needs to be stopped.

            She needs to know what it feels like to be bullied.

brainf.Art: Hey, I think destroying her sketchbook is too much. I wouldn’t do the         

                 same if another person, especially an artist, was being mean to me. 

Jules: Nath’s right. If Marinette’s gone that bad, we shouldn’t stoop so low.

rose-pink: We’d be the bullies!

jabberwocky: besides, she already knows what it feels like to be bullied.

                      Remember chloé?

DeLila: Oh, Im not saying we bully her. Just, I dunno, give her a warning?

It’syagirlALYA: How bout this, lila: we try to keep you 2 apart as much as

                       possible.

DeLila: But…what if it doesn’t work? Or I just approach her again to really try be      

            friends with her?

It’syagirlALYA: Look, girl – we’ve known Mari for a long time. Well, more so the 

                       others, but yo get the point.

kneeknow: what Alya means is that you let us handle it for oyu.

sunflower: that way, no one fights anyone.

DeLila: Oh, that’s a nice idea.

sun: Yeah, it is.

DeLila: Anyway, I was wondering if one of you could help me with our math 

           homework? I was just os distracted thinking about the charity Ive been

           doing with Prince Ali on Tuesday that I wanst able to concentrate.

Maximus: I believe I can be of assistance.

DeLila: Thanks, Max! do you think you could send me a copy? It’s just, my mom  

            wants me to attend some very important meetings so, I won’t really have 

            much time.

Maximus: Oh. I suppose so, yes.

DeLila: Great!

It’syagirlALYA: Maybe you should take a break now.

sea-monkey: Sleeep.

Jules: Rest.

DeLila: Um, why?

Am I bothering all of you now?

rose-pink: No!

sunflower: it’s just, you said your head was hurting a while ago and we don’t 

                want to make it come back

rose-pink: or wrse!

                 worse.

sun: yeah

DeLila: Oh! Right.

             I’ll see everyone tomorrow, then?

It’syagirlALYA: Sure.

kneeknow: Yeah.

DeLila: Bye, everyone!

jabberwocky: Yup, bye.

sea-monkey: See ya.

brainf.Art: bey.

                  bye.

sunflower: bye!

sun: bye.

Jules: yeah, bye.

rose-pink: bye-bye!

Maximus: Good-bye.

HOLD THE EFF UP (10)

It’syagirlALYA: I just had a realization.

                         Lila kept claiming she’s Ladybug’s bff, but that kinda sounds iffy

kneeknow: what makes you sya that, Als?

It’syagirlALYA: I never relly got a chance to ask LB herself but…

                         why would someone like lila deliberately tell me, the   

                         LABYBLOGGER

                        That she’s Paris’s superheroine’s bff, knowing that Hawkmoth 

                        could easily use her against LB?!

jabberwocky: holy sh*t, youre right!

sea-monkey: I may not be the smartest, but even I know that’s dumb.

rose-pink: which means Lila is inn danger!

Maximus: as seen during Animan hunting you down.

Sea-monkey: MAX!

                        It wasn’t my best moment, okay?

sunflower: and her family!

Jules: she’s not in danger…

brainf.Art: Juleka!

Jules: let me finish: she’s not in danger, she put herself in danger.

sun: does that mean lila’s not really friends with ladybug?

It’syagirlALYA: guess I’ll have to hunt down LB if we want to find out ourselves.

brainf.Art: what if ladybug deflecting about it is just a tactic to protect her?

Jules: I’ll do you one better: why didn’t lila know better than telling other people 

           something tha could be passed on to HM

           No offence, Alya.

It’syagirlALYA: none taken.

kneeknow: Juleka’s right. It’s one thing when LB pretends she doesn’t know 

                    someone for safety reasons. It’s another when you don’t know who 

                    could possibly be listening or watching the interview and they plan 

                    to do with it.

sun: wasn’t there something on the news about someone claiming to be Chat’s 

        girlfriend who ended up being kidnapped by an akuma as bait?

sea-monkey: ooh! I remememember that!

Maximus: She was heavily reprimanded by Ladybug and Chat Noir, not to 

                 mention her parents for endangering herself.

jabberwocky: hey Alya, weren’t there somepoeple who tried to call her out on 

                       the interview?

It’syagirlALYA: who? The girl ivan was talking about?

jabberwocky: No.

                        I mean Lila.

Maximus: Alix is correct. I seem to recall about 27% of your comment section 

                 filled with doubts and proclamations of disbelief.

It’syagirlALYA: I think this calls for another meeting. But this time, for different 

                        reasons.  

Come tomorrow morning, 10 people in class had a wary look in their eyes. Lila had yet to arrive, but asides from them, Chloé and Sabrina were already seated and talking about whatever it was that had them busy yesterday. Along the front rows, Marinette is seen to be chatting excitedly with Adrien. Now that they think about it, they hadn’t realized when exactly those two got comfortable and closer together (particularly Marinette). After all, it wasn’t much of a secret except for Adrien that the girl had a huge crush on the model. Alya and Nino, mostly, were very confused on how they missed the development on the interaction between their best friends. But before any of them could comment on the newly discovered development, the real person who had been running on their minds had finally arrived.

“Hi, everyone! It’s so good to see you all this wonderful morning.” They never really thought much about it, but Lila always did have this overly sweet tone. It was different compared to Rose’s own way of talking. “I’m glad to announce that nothing too bad came off from my head injury, but I want to also let you know that I got…”

Huh. Not that they didn’t care about the well-being of others, but Lila always did have a way of putting a lot of attention on her. But really, for how long and how much she’d told them, it was too hard to ignore that she always did talk about herself.

“…I could also introduce you guys to…”

Introductions. Hm… well, that was one word they were well acquainted with. There wasn’t one a time they hadn’t heard Lila mention someone new and promise introducing them. it wasn’t that they were using her for her ‘connections,’ but she could at least try to avoid making promises she would suddenly forget about.

Their eyes narrow down on her, following her every move while she is none the wiser of the sudden change of how they see her. Things hadn’t been easy after the short meeting among those in attendance. Doubt had been planted among their minds and initially, none of them knew whether to weed it out or to water it with curiosity. Lila, thinking she has their trust still, goes on and raves of the many things she’s supposedly done.

Lila approaches the one person she knows is her greatest ‘fan,’ Alya, and proceeds to shower her with the many tales she had spun that involved name droppings and not-so-subtle self-praise. She goes on, thinking that all is well, but the others are actually more inclined to observe the same person they once believed at the drop of her hat. They are listening to her words carefully, only this time with more awareness.

TAGS:

@animergirlweeb @sturchling @plsltmesleep @theyellowfeverexperience @rudy-ruby @j-a-n-e--d-o-e @queenmj10 @krispydefendorpolice @the-delta-42

Is that everyone?

[thedappleddragon]

hehehe today I did something exiting >:) BUT IF UR MY IRL FRIEND STOP READING BECAUSE ITS A SURPRISE. 

but first we’re going chronologically. my cat woke me up by clawing at my sheets for the first time in a while. every morning she used to paw at my sheets, snag one claw in them, and detach it with her mouth until I got up to feed her or whatever. so it felt weird and reminded me of when I was waking up at noon everyday for a while. I said goodbye to my mom because she’s taking a trip to see her best friend/boyfriend to help with her mental health. I talked with her a bit and waved her goodbye and went back inside. I had breakfast and lily wanted to keep going outside, but I didnt want to go out because it was cold. I went out the first couple times she asked, but for the rest of the day I just opened the door to let her in and out, keeping an eye on her. I filled out 2 sketchbook pages because my brain was busy with other things. I played a little harvest moon and got to summer and finally looked up some of the mechanics like fertilizer and stuff. but mostly I was thinking about my friend’s birthday party and the formal dress code for the first half, how I dont have many dresses, and how cool it would be to make one myself. so I scoured Etsy and joann’s for dress patterns until I found one with a circle skirt and a sweetheart neckline that I thought looked really cute. ive never make clothes before, so I hope I do a good job. I wanted to go to Joanns but I had to wait for my sister to get home from track practice, so I just kinda sat at home alone. I'm usually more or less alone all day anyway, so I dont know why this felt so different. when she finally did come home dad handed us $40 for Taco Bell and to put gas in his car and we were off. my sister and I talked about what she did at track and my job interview yesterday while I did a mediocre job driving. when we got there I wasn't really sure what I was looking for, so I just kept going around in the clearence section touching everything that I thought could be a cute color/pattern for this dress. there were a lot of interesting fabrics and a lot of ugly ones I could only imagine on a toddlers and tiaras beautypagent dress. we settled on this light blue fabric with a white flower/leaf design and a soft plain blue fabric for the front panel and lining. it was about $33 worth of fabric, which I thought was a little expensive until I realized we would have paid more than double if it was full price. the patterned fabric is thin and flows nicely but isn't see-through which I really like, and the solid blue is very soft and stretchy. I'll probably use scraps from both after I'm done for other stuff. I wasn't sure what measurements I needed so I handed the lady at the fabric cutting booth my phone with a picture of the fabric requirements. she was very sleepy and had to convert between centimeters and yards, and I just watched as she unrolled the fabric and made very small snips. aaaah I love the fabric section of Joanns, even tho im horribly indecisive and I spent way too long just wandering and mulling it over. but im happy with my choice! I didnt want to pick a fabric I wasn't in love with, since it would suck ass if I put hundreds of hours of work into this dress and hated the outcome. OH MY GOD I JUST REMEMBERD THE MOST IMPORTANT THING. THIS DRESS WILL HAVE POCKETS!! :D I can make the pockets as big as I please >:) I'm fitting a small child in these pockets if it kills me. lmao I'll probably just follow the pattern and do the size it tells me. speaking of sizing after we got home with Taco Bell and joking about among us tiktoks in the car, I read through the pdfs and locked myself in the bathroom to take measurements, going through the list 3 times just to make sure I got an average. I kept landing between a 44 and a 46, but I must have taken my front and back waist measurements wrong?? they were way too short and not even on the sizing chart, so I guess I was thinking my waist was higher than it actually is. I decided for simplicity to use the 46 pattern all around. I only landed in 44 with the neck and bust numbers, but I can alwasy pull it in at the seams I need be. ohhhh I hope it turns out good.... I haven't even begin cutting or patterning yet, I still need to cut out the paper pattern I printed off. but first I wanted to use a big paper cutter to cut a centimeter off each page to make lining up and taping things easier. my little paper cutter only fits the short side of printer paper :( so I'll either use and exacto knife and a ruler on all 25 sheets or see if dad's work or the library will let me use a big one. tbh I'll probably do the first thing. I also learned how to do a bunch of seams today, some of which  I might practice and use for my dress. and I called my dad’s boss about job openings, but he didnt answer so I left a message. I ALSO said for gas in cash for the first time today, which was a little weird. it was simple enough but I probably looked like a fool to the booth lady. I would get stared on at least prepping the paper patterns tonight, but its almost 2 am and my cat is asleep on my feet so I guess im trapped here.