#i was going for a style and then i just. wasn't

[switchsupremacy]

pretty princess!

content warning! dominant gender neutral reader, sub male character, feminization, use of pet names, cum play if you squint, fingering (m receiving, met n messy style), mirror sex.

imagine your faves xoxo.

“you’re so fucking m-mean.” he sneers, head falling back against your shoulder. you have him on cool, hard-wood floors. positioned in your lap in front of your full-length mirror. his body twitches and trembles in your grasp, suffering through the onslaught of pleasure. your fingers are unforgiving as they stretch out his tight hole. his long-forgotten cock weeps precum against his tummy as you toy with him. his legs are spread and perched up above yours, giving you view and access to his privates. you only hum in response to his wail.

"i just like to toy with you honey, how's that mean?" you question, tone sickly sweet; juxtaposing the way your fingers bully their way into him. shallow pumps of your digits that press against his prostate with every drag. the slip is easy.. too easy. lube drips from his hole onto the wood, way too much was used. it wasn't an issue -- you liked it messy. liked seeing how sloppy your pretty fella could get.

the incessant schlop and squelch of your fingers has you grinning, nearly drunk off arousal. you vocalize your thoughts - "it's so messy," you breathe, groaning out a rumble from the back of your throat. "wet like a fuckin' girl f'me."

"oh my god--" he gasps, hole quivering around your fingers and tightening like a vice. "oh you liked that." you grin against his neck, kissing and softly sucking marks onto the bare skin. you slow down your attack on his prostate, settling for slower, deeper thrusts with your fingers. the squelch somehow sounds messier this way, piercing the air with the noise.

"you like being my messy little girl, don't you baby?"

he huffs at your teasing, glaring at you through the reflection of the mirror. your smile widens and you pick of the pace of your fingers. your other hand comes up to wrap around his throat, not truly choking him, but holding him in place. he keens at the touch "I need an answer, love. i can feel you gettin' close.. there's no way you think i'm gonna let you come and you can't even answer me.." you hum in his ear, the sultry timbre of your voice rumbles through him like a wave.

"i like it." he says finally, gasping out. "i like being your m-messy.. girl." he whispers, the last part a low whine. you're happy with the admission, staring at him through the reflection. "that wasn't so hard, was it, sweet thing?"

you go back to the unforgiving pace you'd began with. the sudden movement makes him whine as his chest heaves. "c'mon honey. i wanna see this messy little cunt cum fa' me."

curses fly from his mouth like prayers. his body falls limp as he melts into you, wracked with little tremors. he can't even warn you that he's close because the snap happens so abruptly. he tenses and his back arches as much as it could in your restricting grasp. his choked moans sound nearly angelic as he falls apart in your hold. he cums so beautifully, making a mess of his stomach and bucking his hips sporadically.

"attagirl honey, jus' like that." you chew your lip, watching his orgasm wrack his body in the reflection of the mirror. he whines, a sound deep from within his chest, and you take it as a sign to pull your fingers out.

you reach up to smear the mess of cum along his stomach, "my messy, pretty girl."

[halogalopaghost]

Sorry guys, sorry, I'm just like. Having a moment about 03 Splinter.

You got a rat. Basic, Average Rat. He's been a pet to a few extraordinarily kind humans throughout his short rat life (which, sidebar: can we talk about how the average lifespan of a rat is 2-4 years, meaning everything from Shen discovering Splinter to Yoshi dying took place in less than four years? Holy shit) BUT. He's still A Rat.

And he gets turned suddenly, miraculously, into a sapient, roughly man-sized creature. He's a rat with a GRUDGE, guys! He clearly dislikes Hun and absolutely loathes The Shredder, he wants that man DEAD dead, feudal revenge-plot style.

But here's the thing: he wasn't mutated alone. There's four other creatures with him that have been miraculously Embiggened and granted higher thought, and they are, by all appearances, actually infants. They can barely walk and babble on their own, they're cold, they're hungry, and he knows the humans won't react kindly to him (no one ever reacted kindly to a regular rat, after all, besides Tang Shen). So what does he do? Does he go on his revenge rampage and get even with The Shredder for the death of his beloved master? His only family?

No. That bitch ass motherfucker takes his brand new sapient life and becomes a single dad of four instantaneously. Not only that, but he goes on to treat them as his sons and verbally remind them of this often, clearly treats them with love and respect, and teaches them everything he knows. Literally, he says "this is what I learned from my Master Yoshi, and now I will teach you."

The reason the 03 turtles call him Master and Sensei instead of Father is because that's what he first called Yoshi.

[introvertbard]

My main blog is boring. I started out with a work-style "first initial + last name + random numbers," but when I started to see teenagers put their FULL NAMES in their blogs like this is social media, I got worried and switched my username to "introvert bard" because my ass is introverted and a writer/actor.

--

My SECOND writing blog is "Jadevine." When I made it because my first one got taken over by spirituality stuff, I had accumulated 99.5% Filipino urban-fantasy works, so I figured I should name my new writing blog something about Filipino culture. The jadevine's white/scientific name is Strongylodon macrobotrys, and in the Philippines, it's called tayabak. The flowers can be either Really Fucking Blue or Really Fucking Red, and it's great.

--

My FIRST writing blog is now a spirituality blog, and it's Norcalbruja because I am Filipino-American, I live in California, and "bruja" is Spanish for "witch." This may seem like another version of "don't put your real name on non-social media stuff," but California and Hawai'i are the states with the largest Filipino-American populations, so I feel quite safe in anonymity, lol.

In the Philippines, bruja/bruha is commonly an insult for "any woman who is acting up at all," whether you mean that affectionately or not. SORT OF like how English-speakers can use "bitch" to insult someone or to affectionately call their friends, but like many things in Tagalog, this depends heavily on context. When in doubt, assume bruja/bruha is an insult.

But it's also the only word I can find that really fits me. Filipinos have a whole list of healers and spirit-workers based on their specialties, but you can't really swap them out for "bruja/brujo." We got folk healers, diviners, midwives, and black-magic workers, but I'm not any of those because I wasn't taught those practices.

Me and my deceased grandma are the only ones on my mom's side of the family with ANY spiritual powers. (I don't know about my dad's side. There's like forty years of drama, they're on the other side of the country, and they barely talk to my mom.) The way my family treats it, this is not a "tradition" so much as "a thing that crops up sometimes," so it seems like I got the most low-budget X-Gene ever. My mom just called up my aunts and uncles and said, "Hey guess what? Introvertbard thought she saw me one time, BUT she said I was wearing Mom's old clothes! She can see ghosts like Mom did!"

Cue my mom telling my thirteen-year-old self that her family house was by a wartime graveyard. My grandma would routinely see the ghosts of soldiers, lock the kids up in a safe place, and yell at the ghosts to GET OUT OF THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW. People now avoid their old family house because... they keep seeing an old lady who looks suspiciously like my grandma. Nobody who's been sent to maintain/clean it will stay there.

And I'm like "well, this would have been useful to know BEFORE Grandma died." Great job to my mom and nine whole aunts and uncles! I grew up a normal person who likes ghost STORIES and scaring myself in a safe environment (ie, horror movies and "haunted house" attractions), but I'm also afraid of REAL GHOSTS. I must be a VERY suitable person to inherit her grandmother's second-sight.

Hence, I call myself a bruja because I clearly have SOMETHING going on, but I don't know what the fuck to do about it.

USERNAME LORE GIVE IT TO ME NOW YOU ALL

[cinnamanz]

✦ ─── 𝓒hampagne 𝓒oast , 𝓢ophia 𝓛aforteza do you miss me too?

─── 𝓨ou think about reaching out. just a text. just a line. this song still sounds like you. but you don’t. not because the love is gone—but because some stories are meant to live in the quiet. in glances. in songs. in memories. because letting go doesn’t mean you ever wanted to. and sophia—sweet, golden, soft at the edges and sharp at the center—was never really yours. but she was real.

❝𝓪ll my last strength against you,

𝓫aby tell me what you need.❞

౨ৎ 𝓹airing. predebut!sophia laforteza x female reader ౨ৎ 𝓰enre. fluff if u squint, undefined relationship, was it ever casual? no. angst (i tried) like a ton of it but i wasn't trying to drown u, hurt no comfort, wc. 3299 a/n. my exams js finished nd i thought id give yall sumn as compensation for the lack of mamma mia updates LMAO i was trying sumn new w this oneshot—writing style wise—nd im ngl it didn't quite go how i wanted to nd i ended up writing less bc of this experimental oneshot 😭😭😭 anyw, this is a long overdue angst from me i tried my best💔💔💔 i saw smn on tiktok say sophia is the type of person ud have a crush on high school nd that mainly inspired this so thanks random tiktok editor. this is mostly how i imagined champagne coast

❝𝔂oung as i want to know,

𝓲'll never let you go.❞

YOU REMEMBER HER BEST IN SHADES OF GOLD. not the kind that glitters, but the kind that glows. sun-warm. skin-close. the kind of gold that poured through her bedroom blinds every time you snuck in past midnight and stayed for as long as you could before school dawned, heart thudding, breath caught between wanting and wondering.

sophia.

sophia with the smile that felt like a secret sunrise. with soft pink polish barely clinging to her nails and the habit of humming songs she hadn’t written yet. her voice always held a lilt of laughter, like a secret being shared. 

she had a laugh that caught sunlight in its rhythm, and a way of remembering everyone's name like it was the most important one she'd ever heard. she moved through the halls like spring after a long winter—bright, warm, impossible not to notice. her presence made lockers bloom and linoleum shimmer. 

she’d offer a compliment with such genuine ease that it felt like sunlight breaking through clouds. she held eye contact like she was seeing you for the first and last time all at once. sophia, who always smelled like vanilla chapstick and the faintest trace of gardenias after rain. you said her name like a prayer you didn’t believe in but kept whispering anyway. just in case it could save you.

she’s everywhere now. bigger than memory, louder than youth. katseye headlines every festival lineup, and her voice spills from every speaker like honey and summer. but back then, she was just a girl with stardust in her laugh and music in her fingertips. her family’s name opened doors and booked venues, but sophia walked through them like they didn’t matter. she made time slow down. she made you feel like you were being seen through a softer lens.

sophia’s world had always been lyrical. she moved through life like she was humming a song only she could hear. each step light, each smile like a melody lingering in the air long after she’d walked away. 

everything about her felt improvised yet effortlessly right, like the first draft of a poem that didn’t need editing. she spoke in rhythm, thought in metaphor, lived in verses. there was music in her hands, in her laughter, in the way she leaned her head back when she was thinking—as if catching something only the sky could offer.

your world, on the other hand, was cinematic. made of still frames and silences. you didn’t move through life—you watched it. framed things, paused them, looked for symmetry in the ordinary. 

you didn’t always speak, but you noticed everything: the flutter of her lashes when she was about to say something vulnerable, the exact tilt of her smile when she was hiding a bruise of sadness. where sophia saw a lyric, you saw a shot list. where she saw wonder, you saw composition. where she breathed melody, you caught meaning in the silences between.

she narrated the world in chorus; you captured it in light. you were opposites in the way a poem and a film are different ways of saying the same thing. 

and somehow, in those precious months where your lives tangled and bloomed, you translated each other.

you met her in late march. spring still a whisper, flowers barely blooming, the sky bruised with indecision. your film teacher read names off a list, pairing students for the semester film project. you weren’t paying attention until you heard it: "y/n and sophia."

she turned to you with a smile that looked like it belonged to someone in a film already. sharp and soft at the same time. her voice was breezy, casual. "guess we’re partners."

you nodded, blinking, caught in her gravity already.

when you sat together to brainstorm, her notebook was full of lyrics—descriptions of faces in profile, sunflowers, waves crashing over shoulders. 

she wanted to create something that felt like breathing. you wanted to shoot something that felt like dreaming.

so you made a film about nature and people. about how vines wrap around fingers like lovers. how wind braids hair. how skin glows in golden hour like the earth is passing its light into it. sophia became the muse. barefoot in tall grass. spinning in white linen. half-submerged in a creek, laughing. you directed and held the lens like it was a heartbeat.

"you make the world look softer," she said once in awe, watching a playback.

"it only looks like that because you’re in it," you replied. your voice almost cracked from saying it.

she didn’t say anything then. just smiled at the screen, her reflection flickering over her shoulder.

that project was the beginning. the spark. long editing nights that bled into morning. coffee shared from the same chipped mug. the camera always between you—until it wasn’t. until it was just her, and you, and the quiet understanding that bloomed beneath everything left unsaid.

it started, maybe, on the hill.

that nowhere hill behind her high-rise, just past the stillness of manicured parks and closed cafés, where city light softened into starlight. you called it your chapel. the place where time slowed down and everything else disappeared.

every summer night, you’d sneak into her room at twelve-oh-something. her window creaked like it missed you. sophia would be waiting in a hoodie three sizes too big, her braid unraveling like ribbon. sometimes she brought snacks. sometimes she brought a poem. sometimes she brought nothing but herself.

and that was enough.

you’d walk, fingers brushing, shoulders bumping. and when the world was quiet enough, she’d start to sing. something half-formed. breathy. beautiful. you never interrupted. just listened. memorized the shape of her in the dark.

you brought your guitar once. not to impress, not to perform—just to fill the quiet with something that wouldn’t spill over into words. sophia lit up when she saw it, eyes shining like she’d been waiting for this without knowing it.

"you play?" she asked, voice full of something like awe.

"just a little," you said, shy.

she grinned and sat cross-legged in the grass, hoodie sleeves tugged over her hands. "can i sing?"

and so you played. soft, simple chords beneath your fingers like the beat of a heart learning a new rhythm. and sophia—god, sophia—she sang like her voice belonged to the sky. high, clear, breathy in the way that made your lungs forget how to work. you caught her gaze mid-song, and she smiled at you—not the kind she gave to the world, but the one that felt like it was stitched from your name.

you harmonised by instinct, your voice falling in beside hers like it had always belonged there. no one told you how music could feel like holding hands in the dark. no one told you it could be the first time you really felt someone without the need for physical touch.

when the last note faded, you didn’t speak. just sat there, letting the silence gather around you like a blanket, the ghost of melody still hovering between your mouths.

she leaned her head against your shoulder.

"you think stars remember us?" she asked.

"i think we remember them enough to make it count," you replied.

she looked up at you, pupils wide, eyes full of summer and something softer.

"i don’t want to be forgotten," she whispered.

"you won’t," you promised.

because that was the night something began. not loudly, not clearly, but with a strum and a hum and a shared breath beneath stars.

you'd never play that song for anyone else again. not because it was sacred. but because it already belonged to her.

the first time you kissed, you could feel the earth shift beneath you.

her lips were soft, trembling against yours like they were learning how to be still. the air between you was thick, humming with the kind of tension that seemed too big for both of you, yet you moved closer, closer still, until it was only her and the night and the stillness of a world that didn’t seem to matter anymore.

her hands were on your face, fingers delicate as they traced your jaw, as if committing every contour to memory. and then her mouth was on yours again, and this time, the kiss was deep and slow, a kind of sweetness that burned hotter than you ever imagined. you ran your hands up her sides, fingers exploring the soft curve of her waist, mapping it to memory like it was the only thing you’d ever truly need to know.

you could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her hoodie, the heat from her body seeping into yours. it spread like wildfire, quick and alive, until every nerve inside you was set alight. you held her so close—so impossibly close—that her breath mingled with yours, her heartbeat a steady thrum in the rhythm of your own.

god, you thought, as you kissed her deeper like she was air and you were addicted, letting yourself succumb and drown in her warmth. i have never felt so close to heaven as i have now with my lips on hers, and holding her so close to me that her warmth spills and spreads over me in waves, lighting every nerve lining of mine on fire.

“i think..." you whispered, your voice shaky with something raw, something tender. "i think i like you."

she smiled at you, the softest, saddest smile you'd ever seen, as if she already knew that what was happening between you was fleeting even before the hushed confession, a fleeting thing that would burn bright and quick before it was gone.

but for now, it didn’t matter.

for now, it was just you and her and the kind of kiss that felt like everything.

and for just a moment, you let yourself believe that everything was enough.

senior year rolled in with deadlines and early applications and the kind of weight that makes your bones feel older than they are. you and sophia partnered up for another media project. a short film. something dreamy, something about the in-between. something that felt like both of you.

one afternoon, everyone else had gone home, and it was just you and her in the empty classroom. she was sitting on the windowsill, the wind playing with the ends of her hair, painting her in soft light. you lifted the camcorder, pressed record. through the viewfinder, she looked unreal. backlit, untouchable. like something borrowed from a dream.

and it struck you again—how sophia's world was lyrical, and yours was cinematic. where she sat in that golden light, she looked like a line of poetry you’d never forget. but through your lens, she was also something else—framed, finite, fading even as you filmed. it hit you with a sharp kind of knowing: this would only ever be a memory. the footage would last, but the moment would not.

"what?" she asked, turning to you.

"nothing," you said, even though everything was happening all at once. because in that moment, with her framed by the sky and the silence, you knew. this wouldn’t last.

some people are moments. not destinations.

and sophia? she was a meteor. blazing. brief.

that footage still lives somewhere on your hard drive. you haven't played it in years. you’re not sure you could survive the sound of her voice saying your name in that soft, sun-drenched tone again.

some days, she was distant—her mind lost in melodies you hadn’t yet heard, her gaze turned inward, like she was looking at something beyond you. other days, she clung to you like gravity, as if the weight of her presence alone could pull you back from drifting too far into your own thoughts. 

you started to learn the language of her moods: the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was uncertain, how she bit her lip when she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words, as if speaking them would unravel something fragile that was better left unsaid.

one night, there was nothing but the quiet between you. the hum of distant cars, the weight of the stars above. you could feel her next to you, close but just out of reach in a way that made everything feel too heavy, too raw.

"i wish i could keep this forever," you said, your voice barely more than a breath. the words fell from your lips before you could stop them, the kind of wish you didn’t know you had until it was already there, full and aching.

“this?” she asked, her voice soft, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

“you. us. this...whatever this is,” you murmured, unable to name it, afraid of the weight of what it could mean if you did.

she didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at you, the kind of look that made you feel like she could see into the places you didn’t let anyone touch. her smile came slowly, tinged with something tender and sad, as if she already knew what was coming, what was always coming, but wasn’t ready to let go yet. 

"you know some things aren’t meant to go on forever, even if they feel like they could."

you wanted to argue, to tell her that this—whatever this was—felt too big to be just a passing season. but the truth was, you didn’t know what it was. nothing about it was defined, and maybe that made it even more real.

"maybe," you whispered, the ache tightening in your chest. "but even a song gets stuck in your head for years."

and in that moment, with nothing else left to say, you both let the silence stretch between you.

when katseye began to bloom into the world’s consciousness, you watched her from the quiet. from the sidelines. where you had always been. tv interviews filtered through your screen late at night, their light flickering across your bedroom walls like ghosts you couldn’t name. 

there she was—sophia—draped in gowns that shimmered like the sea on moonlit nights, lips painted the soft red of a closing day, laughter threaded with rehearsed charm. people loved her. how could they not?

but you listened closely—not to her words, but to her voice beneath the voice. and god, it still sounded like her. like the girl who once sang barefoot beneath the stars, who curled into your side with wind-tangled hair and asked if heaven could be a person. that voice hadn’t changed. it still held the ache of midnights, the tremble of wishes no one ever said out loud.

but her eyes—her eyes had learned something you hadn’t. they were no longer the windows that once opened only for you, soft and unguarded and impossibly full of wonder. 

now they shimmered with something distant. practiced. eyes that had seen too much, learned how to hold just enough back to be adored but never known. she had become someone the world could look at, but never touch. someone who had learned how to let go.

you didn’t go to the farewell party that night of graduation.

you told people you were busy. that you forgot. but the truth was quieter than that, more fragile. you couldn’t stand the idea of watching her say goodbye to a place she always belonged to, to a chapter she had always meant to leave behind. you couldn’t watch her smile at the crowd and thank them for memories that brushed her skin.

so instead, you went to the hill. the hill that started it all. 

alone.

the one you both used to sneak off to when the world felt too sharp. the one where you’d bring your guitar, and she’d bring her voice, and between the two of you, you created something unnamable. you didn’t bring the guitar this time. there was no need. even the silence was loud with her absence.

you lay on the grass and stared at the sky until the stars blurred, your throat aching with a name you refused to say out loud. but it was there. it always was. in the hush between crickets. in the wind brushing against your cheek like a goodbye you never received. her name lived in the quiet. in the stillness. in the ache.

and maybe that was love.

not the kind that stays, but the kind that marks you anyway.

and sometimes, on the loneliest nights—when the world feels too quiet, and the sky hangs heavy with all the things you never said—you still look up at the stars and wonder if they remember.

two girls. a camera. a song.

you wonder if the stars recall the softness of her voice beside you, how it curled into the night like incense smoke, how your name sounded different when she said it—more alive, more whole. you wonder if they remember how her hand brushed yours in the dark like it meant something, like everything unspoken between you was understood anyway.

one of you rose—like the crescendo of a chorus, like light breaking over a stage. the other stayed—quiet, still, holding onto the echoes.

you don’t talk anymore—an outcome that didn’t come as a surprise—not really. just likes on old photos buried beneath filters and captions that meant more at the time. sometimes a tagged memory surfaces from the past—a birthday, a laugh, a behind-the-scenes shot—and her username feels like a paper cut across your chest. she never shared it, and neither did you. a reminder. a timeline. a pause you never quite recovered from.

every once in a while, champagne coast plays—that damned song you’d both fought over whether to use for the short film or not, that cost hours of editing over something so petty you’d won anyway—. maybe in a café, maybe in the shuffle of a playlist you forgot you made. 

the first few notes are enough. your breath stutters. and suddenly you're seventeen again, filming her by the window of an empty classroom, wind tugging gently at her hair, sunlight turning her into something god might’ve carved by hand.

you still remember the last day of filming. how she laughed at something you said. how you almost kissed her again, but didn’t.

how the golden hour touched her skin like it was saying goodbye too.

that day replays sometimes, in slow motion, like the final scene of a movie that never made it to theaters. you never really wrote an ending. just...stopped filming.

and maybe that’s the cruelest part. that there was no goodbye, no final bow. just the quiet unraveling of something too beautiful to hold.

you think about reaching out. just a text. just a line. this song still sounds like you.

but you don’t.

not because the love is gone—but because some stories are meant to live in the quiet. in glances. in songs. in memories. because letting go doesn’t mean you ever wanted to.

and sophia—sweet, golden, soft at the edges and sharp at the center—was never really yours. but she was real.

and that’s what you carry. not the goodbye. not the could-have-beens. just the memory. just the thought.

the way she looked at you once, when the camera was rolling and she didn’t know it—blissfully unaware she’d changed your life for the better or worse or in between, if that even made sense. the way your name lingered in her voice when no one else was listening.

the stars. the song. the stillness.

her.

and you. forever changed.

not by what lasted—but by what burned bright enough to leave a mark.

even now, you still look up. you find the time to. and sometimes, she’s still there. in the sky. in the silence. in the memory. like light you never forgot how to follow.

masterlist.

— please do not repost, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way without permission. thank you! xx

[so-i-did-this-thing]

you may have already answered a question like this, but do you do anything with steampunk ? or even renaissance faires ? what is your opinion on steampunk, I feel like it would be right up your alley ! you'd make a dapper af steampunk costume, I have no doubt ♡ (also hi, love your vibes, hope you're hydrating)

Hmmmm. HMMMM.

I have some very complicated thoughts about Steampunk. Overall, the aesthetic is fun, but I get burnt out on seeing the same persona and visual tropes. One also really has to tread carefully with how they navigate the colonialism and capitalism of the source material, things that are baked into a lot of the design shorthand that's become popular over the years. (I think about this issue a lot as a polar exploration fan.)

I actually did think up a steampunk persona once upon a time, and it'd probably surprise folks -- not posh at all, nor really overlapping with my tweedy style. I'd be a black market information broker - think mobile card catalog and ticker tape machine - just a feral little man dealing in secrets of any kind. Sort of my pushback against all the gentleman explorers and airship captains.

Wrt rennfaires -- my partner is usually cast for 1 or more. Faires are more entertainment than education, but I have plans to do some historically inspired shitpost costumes at some point or another, ranging from a marginalia-sona to landsknecht in the extreme hotpants:

Because *someone* has gotta counterbalance all the cis dudes in their sandlars, trousers, and pirate hats.

I also want to do an accurate plague doctor, this kind of mask:

As you may be guessing now: when I stray out of my niche fandoms into something more mainstream, I tend to either to do my own thing, or do the popular thing, but go off-road.

I am partly like this because I don't like being compared to other cosplayers/costumers. So, you'll rarely find me in any "popular" fandom/subculture.

I hope that wasn't too disappointing an answer! My commitment to The Bit drives most of my approach to costume work, and I am very picky about what kind of Bit I do.

[greatwritenorth]

Some Thoughts On Sunrise on the Reaping & Haymitch Abernathy

I haven't written anything on any of my tumblr accounts in years. However, I had a shower thought that I simply had to shout into the void, in case anyone saw it too, and tumblr still seemed like the best form to do it.

So, like many people, I read Sunrise on the Reaping, and then immediately had to reread the entire Hunger Games universe. I took a while to get into Sunrise (I wasn't emotionally ready when it came out), so I've only just finished re-reading the first novel, and, of course, consuming any media that shows up on my accounts (usually Pinterest these days). As I was showering tonight, I started thinking about things, and had a bit of a moment that I had to share. So, here I am about to write a text post that's going to get so long no one will actually read it.

All through the original The Hunger Games series, the parallels between Haymitch and Katniss are endless. Katniss is the one who understands him in the arena. He and Katniss are both "difficult people", and of course, Peeta insists that Katniss is Haymitch's favourite. It's true, at this point in his life, Haymitch is more like Katniss. He understands her, some of her trauma, and her general wariness of people. If you love people, they can hurt you, and be used to hurt you. That is a lesson that, sadly, by this point, both Katniss and Haymitch have learned.

However, the Haymitch that we see in Sunrise on the Reaping, isn't Katniss. He isn't angry (at least not as much as Katniss is), or guarded. He doesn't struggle with people. Before the hunger games, Haymitch wasn't Katniss—he was Peeta.

Haymitch wanted his death to mean something; he wanted to end the hunger games, stick it to the captiol. For most of the games, Katniss just wanted to survive. Peeta was the one who was thinking about his identity, how the capitol was using them, and how he wanted to do something to stop that.

Haymitch understood almost immediately, once he was told, why he needed to play to the audience during his interviews, and he fell into his role as "the rake" easily. He was nervous, but he did it. Katniss, initially, couldn't play the charm game for the cameras before her interview to save her life (literally). Peeta knew exactly what he was going to do and how to play it.

Most importantly of all, Haymitch loved a girl with a beautiful singing voice (and did things her own way) more than his own life. He connected with Katniss. He understood her pain, and he couldn't help seeing Louella in her style (and, likely, her father who he once loved too). However, I think he empathized with Peeta. Haymitch would have lost his mind if Lenore Dove was in the games instead of him. And, in the second novel, when Peeta expresses frustration with having to pretend to love Katniss when he really loves Katniss, Haymitch can emphasize with his pain in a way that Katniss (who is still struggling with her feelings, and sees things in a black and white way more often then not) cannot. I'm sure he could imagine what it'd be like to play act a life with Lenore Dove, for The Capitol of all people, when she didn't seem to care for you (or so you think), but you love her "like all fire".

I also think that this, among other factors (the right time, and more support), is what made Katniss and Peeta "smarter or more lucky". Yes, Katniss became the face of the revolution, but she couldn't have done it without Peeta. Peeta brought what Haymitch already had in his games, and Katniss brought the survival instincts, the anger, that Haymitch has an an adult.

[applejusue]

Imposter Syndrome ── Ellie Williams ౨ৎ˚₊

tldr; immunity is a blessing, but infections adapt cw: dissociation, intrusiveness, grief, angst, violence, sexual themes, comfort, love, slow-burn, illness, blood, gore descriptions, mature themes w/c: 13.2k

a/n: I put a lot of love into this one, and I kind of want to do more of this longer styled writing. I still want to feed everyone though, so please do send requests that I can fill in between bigger works like this ♡ Let me know what you think!

Prologue;

Seattle wasn't so bad, even if nobody knew her name. Ellie tried to blend in with them, keeping her head low. After giving up on the hunt for Abby, she found herself at a loss for moving forward. Without another home to go to, Ellie made one herself here. A dingy one-bedroom apartment just off road of the main street. The place was small, but it was cheap. Walls so thin she could hear her upstairs neighbors fucking most nights. Ellie was exhausted lately; sleep a valuable commodity these days and not just because of the noise. She just never felt safe, no matter how many locks she put on that door.

The migraines had started not long after moving in, a skull-splitting ache that no amount of painkillers seemed to fix. She'd taken to turning off the lights and burrowing her face between two stained pillows. It helped, sometimes. When Ellie lay there, teary-eyed and not a soul there to encompass her, it felt like a rotting tooth that refused to fall out. She'd made this bed when she left that farm, thinking that if she took Abby's life, it would make her feel whole again. She wasn't angry anymore; that's what she told herself, at least. She still thought about how it felt to hold Abby beneath the harsh current, even if it made her feel sick to the stomach.

The thoughts never seemed to leave, especially with the influx of headaches. Her dark eyes would linger on the dusty carpet, consumed by how things could've been. Would she have felt better? If Abby's warm blood had coated her hands. Joel would've done it. She shuddered. She still carried that resentment, that bitterness at the lies she still didn't fully understand. There was so much about him that she didn't know, that she'd never know now. He was dead, and she was still alive. She hadn't figured out yet what that meant to her.

Still, she wanted to fit in, to go to the store and get groceries even when it felt like the whole world was staring. Her crooked fingers would twitch in the milk aisle, the screeching of the rusted trolley wheel irritating her to no end. It felt like her arms were too long for her body, did people notice? Maybe it was her wrinkled clothes or her marred cheek. She filled the cart with stuff that didn't take half a brain to cook. Instant noodles, pre-made burgers, beer. Ellie managed to afford these luxuries with a small part-time gig she'd picked up for the council. It was sort of like volunteering, fixing up the rougher areas of the city or delivering supplies to shelters. 'A better Seattle'. That's what the contractors seemed to think anyway.

Ellie couldn't give a damn, as long as she got a crumb of conversation and a way to put her hands to use. The truth was she'd gotten worse at speaking lately; maybe it was the way she'd locked herself away from people or the fact that her thoughts were too loud. Still, she often stumbled over her words, her brow twitching in mild irritation whenever she couldn't spit out a simple sentence. The workers didn't care, they were just people like her with no family or friends to compare her to. It was grounding to crack a cold beer on site with them, nobody ever talking about much in particular.

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

Ellie was reading over her list of duties, sometimes it was relatively few. Today it seemed she had to head downtown to the foster center to fix a broken heating unit. She felt a dampened sense of unease at the idea, her own time in the system not exactly pleasant. She shoved the sheet down into her backpack along with her toolkit, slinging her lanyard around her neck. The breeze bit at her ears as she headed down the street, hands stuffed into her coat pocket.

When she arrived at the center, she stood dumbfounded to see a colorful building with murals of rainbows, flowers, the thing even had a little playground to the side where kids where battling it out on top of a slide. A small toothed smile tugged at her lips as she watched one of the supervisors trying to split up whatever territorial dispute seemed to be happening between the group. She felt an odd sense of amusement tinged in with a slight jab of envy, even if she knew it was misplaced. As she walked through to the reception, there were paintings and drawings splattered all over the walls along with plants that cuddled some of the furniture.

Ellie could hear giggles from down the hallways, a rather controlled chaos with young volunteers chasing after toddlers and toddlers chasing after each other. After sliding her ID into the reception, she stood idly waiting for the care director to bring her 'round to the unit. Her speckled gaze traced over some of the drawings on the wall, many with chicken scratch signatures or blotchy fingerprints. Cute.

When the director arrived, the last person she expected to see was you.

It all seemed to go quiet when you walked in, a child clinging to your hip and a binder in your arms that you were desperately trying to keep from the little one's nosy hands. You looked different, certainly much older than the last time she'd seen you. Draped over you was an oversized sweater with a smiley-face pin and your name, jingly bracelets covering your arms with similar lining your earlobes. When she'd known you, you were just a kid, thrown into the system like she was. Your face was the same, just with lines that showed your age and a warm smile that softened the edge you used to have. You looked happy.

"Ellie? Oh my god, I didn't even recognize you.."

She wasn't surprised; with her scruffy short hair and marred cheeks, it was a wonder you'd even identified her at all. The little kid seemed to grow bored of being in the presence of two grown-ups, quickly tumbling back to where all the action was at in the playroom. Before Ellie could even attempt to say something, you were pulling her into a hug. Your warm arms came around her like you'd known each other forever, but there was a lifetime between you now. Her body stiffened, but you smelt like warm memories and midnight stories.

When you pulled back, she finally managed to get some of that courage back, even if she felt like the two of you couldn't be more different. You'd grown softer. Ellie wasn't like that; she'd hardened.

"You look older.."

It was all she could think of saying, and the awkward laugh you gave in response made her sink inward just a little. In truth she hadn't expected you to be here or anywhere. That was the feeling in the system; people you'd known would vanish, and that was the last you would hear about it.

"You aren't getting away with it either.."

Your voice was warm, patient. The tone that must come natural now that you work with young children. Even at her age you instilled a sense of calmness in her, your familiar sarcasm working a small crooked smile onto her lips as Ellie glanced away bashfully. You held your binder to your chest, still little miss control freak.

"This place.. s'nice.."

Ellie's voice came softer than she'd expected, the hint of a stumble in her tone making her cringe. You didn't seem to notice, or if you did, you didn't mind. She watched your hair bounce as you nodded your head, your earrings jingling from the motion.

"Thank you. I didn't expect to settle down here.. was just a rundown building when I got her, now I couldn't imagine leaving."

That was so.. you.

Ellie had grown used to the constant moving around within the system, being pushed from family to family and usually ending up right back where she started. You, on the other hand, found it more difficult. She'd hug you when you got sent back, wondering why the new family didn't want to keep you. No matter how often she tried to soothe you, it seemed too personal for your young mind to comprehend. It made sense that now, as a grown woman, you still craved those roots, that commitment to somewhere.

It was difficult for her to not just stare at you, an imperfect habit she'd developed over time. Fumbling for straws, she adjusted her belt, staring at the ground for a moment. You seemed to pick up on her awkwardness; it drew you in. This wasn't the confident, smart-ass kid that used to sneak you in games for your 2Ds that she'd stolen from a foster home. It'd been a decade, sure, and you could tell that the years had been unkind. Her once bright hazel eyes were dark, hidden under a firm brow that bored lines onto her forehead. Her freckled cheeks had faint scarring, mostly obscured by dead-end bangs. A warm smile graced your lips, and you took her cold, calloused hand into yours.

"Right.. the AC unit.."

Ellie offered a wordless nod as you began to lead her through the hallway with more murals painted up the walls. It sent a flush of nostalgia through her hazy mind, a weird déjà vu that she couldn't shake. Still, your smaller hand was warm, and she felt strangely transfixed by it. She could feel every line, every brush of your fingers as though her senses were working overtime. Ellie didn't let it go until you brought her into one of the main playrooms. It was a flurry of arts and crafts, babies banging pots together and some older kids trading sweets by the window. Her ears twitched a little at the noise, one that she'd forgotten after all these years.

You led her to the unit that was tucked up in the corner of the room, it looked ancient and covered in purple crayon. No wonder the thing wasn't working anymore.

"I know that look.. it is old, but we get it serviced pretty regularly so I'm not sure what the issue is.."

You mused with a soft chuckle, flipping through your binder to where the last check was done a month ago. There were no notes from the last inspection, just that all seemed to be in working order. When you glanced up again, Ellie was already standing up on a plastic chair and unscrewing the front grille to get in at the filter, her toolbelt slung across her hip. Your eyes widened at the way she precariously leaned upward on a chair built for a 4 year old.

"Careful Els.. you're giving them ideas.."

Your voice was a teased murmur, and Ellie pulled her head back from the unit to notice a small gathering of curious children on the floor who were watching her tamper with the AC. A hint of red embarrassment tinged at her cheeks, unsure on what to make of the little observers. In the end she just gave you a gruff nod before pulling back the grate and lowering it onto one of the small desks.

You were needed elsewhere when an out of breath volunteer stumbled in saying that one of the kids in the playground pushed the other off the slide. Little bugger, Ellie thought with a small smirk.

As you got whisked away, Ellie was left with big eyes watching her every move. Some of the kids had taken to holding her tools for her, just happy to be helpers. She rummaged through the broken unit, lifting one of them up to see the inside as she gestured at all the little moving parts in there. That of course led to all the other kids wanting to see too.

Eventually she deduced the issue. The unit had a faulty air compressor, likely stemming from some dirt or oil build-up within the refrigerant. After making sure the AC was empty, she loosened the compressor belt with a small screwdriver before unplugging the electrical wire. After unbolting the damaged part she carefully extracted it from the unit, holding it up so she could examine it. It seemed busted up, whatever maintenance guy checks it out each other month was clearly a bit useless.

She disconnected the unit so it couldn't be turned on, before screwing back on the grate to keep out prying hands. The little group of observers scurried closer when Ellie stepped down off of the brightly colored chair. A soft huff of laughter left her lips when they all wanted to know what was wrong. Some of them reminded her of how she used to be, nosy and wanting to learn more about how things worked. Ellie crouched down between them, letting them all get a look at the broken air compressor.

"When things like dirt n' stuff build up in the unit, it can make the parts go faulty.."

She mumbled, gesturing to the slight staining along the edge of the part.

"What is that, ma'am?"

One of the kids spoke up, a small boy with a flurry of red curls and a dinosaur t-shirt that Ellie would unashamedly wear as a grown adult. The other kids nodded in agreement, looking up at her expectantly to explain it. She fumbled for a minute, not entirely sure how to explain a compressor system to a bunch of children.

"..s'Sort of like, it takes the warm air into the vent unit, and it.. turns it into cold air and spits it back out.. and visa-versa.."

She scratched at her head, yeah that was pretty much it.

"So what do we do now? Are you gonna fix it?"

A slightly older girl with dark hair and bangs that she'd very clearly cut herself spoke up, her hands toying with a small stuffed bunny rabbit that she held to her chest.

"Well, nothing.. right now anyways, I'll have to take this with me and see if I can find a replacement for it.."

"Are we gonna freeze?"

Someone spoke up from the back, causing a flurry of questions and worries that she wasn't exactly equipped to handle. She raised her hands trying to get their attentions, waving her wrists and trying to convince them that no, they won't freeze. However, before she could, you were walking back in with another supervisor. Frantically, one of the little ones ran to you, tugging at your legs with eyes of great distress.

"Miss! Miss! What are we going to do? I don't want to freeze.."

The little boy began to tear up, and you could only raise a brow at Ellie who was knelt down with a bunch of panicked toddlers crowded around her. You bent down to scoop him up onto your hip, patting down his hair.

"Don't be silly, nobody's going to freeze.."

You mused with soft amusement as you approached the group. Ellie looked at you with red tinged cheeks smeared with dust from the vent. She quickly stood up, patting down her trousers and offering up the broken component.

"..there's your problem sweetheart, broken compressor, I'll have to try find a replacement for it.."

Ellie murmurs, scratching at her scruffy hair as the little ones nod along in agreement.

Once back out in the hallway and alone with you, Ellie stood idly. She shifted on her feet while you signed her contractor sheet and took a copy for your maintenance folder. Her eyes lingered over your face as you scribbled your name and handed it back with a warm smile. She couldn't help but return that smile, though hers was a little tight lipped.

"I'll see you around, yeah? Give me a call if you find that part, these kids will be tropical once it starts getting hot.."

Your voice whipped around her ears, and she found herself nodding like an idiot. When she eventually did find her words, it was just before you were about to walk away. Maybe it was the fact that you were old friends, or maybe it was the fact that she liked having a purpose, but she'd get you that damn compressor if she had to raid a car engine for it.

"Yeah.. yeah don't worry I'll find you one somewhere.."

Her crooked fingers tugged at her sleeve, but her sullen eyes bore into yours like she couldn't look anywhere else. You smiled at her, liking that she still kept some of those same mannerisms that used to be so familiar to you. Unable to help it, you pulled her into another gentle hug, one she returned this time. She didn't mean to smell your hair, but it practically invaded her bloodstream once you got close. A more genuine smile pulled at her lips when she let you go, giving you a small wave as you walked off. She stood there for a minute or two, cheeks rosy.

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

Ellie barely batted an eyelash as the person next door punched numbers into their microwave, the humming faintly pulsing through her walls. Ellie was pitched up on the kitchen counter, where the yellow tinged-light was the brightest. She held your damaged part up, working away at it with a screwdriver. A moth was clinking around in her lightshade, something that made her fingers' twitch in irritation. For a split-second, she felt a flush of anger, considered ripping the damn bulb from the socket and smashing it against the wall. The thought in it's intensity unsettled her, and she tried to regain her focus on the small object.

She'd searched all over town yesterday, badgering in auto part shops and checking out car-boot sales, but to no avail. While she did find compressors, they were too new for that hunk of junk you had in that wall. Still she had continued to search, even when the rain dampened the back of her collar and splintered through her scruffy hair.

Eventually though she was forced to give up, so here she sat. 2.47AM, half-naked, fucking around with an AC part that was older than her. The microwave next door dinged. That thing went off at all hours, and with the stench she was assaulted with whenever she walked past that door, it was no surprise that he got the munchies.

She waved her hand as it started to cramp up, her eyes tracing over the rim of the small metal device. She'd cleaned most of the oil and dust out of it, along with tightening up the bolts along the edge. The moth continued to flutter around the lightbulb, occasionally getting burned. Ellie's gaze flickered up to it, then down at her arm with a soft huff.

She was a moth.

She slid down off of the counter, padding to the bedroom in old socks. Her room was essentially a void, those black-out curtains she'd found in a garage sale like a blessing, considering the street-lights that flashed all hours just outside her window.

Ellie had even gotten used to it, changing in the darkness and sometimes even showering that way. It was somewhat relaxing, though sometimes you could clearly tell by her outfits that she couldn't see herself. Some blend between southern grandpa at a barbeque and closed off junkie, however that worked. She tugged her sports bra up over her head and onto the ground somewhere, stumbling towards the bathroom along the way. The sound of water hitting the tiles filled the room, warm steam surrounding her in the darkness as she moved in. Hot beads trickled down her neck and shoulders as she lay her head back against the current, a heavy breath of relief drifting from her lips.

A few minutes later Ellie dragged herself out, pale skin damp as she ran a towel through her hair. She could faintly catch the sound of soft moans and thumping from above her, rolling her eyes as she continued to dry herself off. The noise was louder as she left the bathroom, a towel draped around her loosely as she shuffled into her bedroom. Ellie rummaged through her nightstand in search of her retainer, letting out a small grumble of annoyance when she couldn't find it. After a minute or so of feeling around in the dark, she admits defeat, turning on her small bedside lamp. She squints at the soft bulb, glancing around and seeing her retainer amidst her dirty bedsheets. Gross.

After splashing some water over them and pushing them in, Ellie padded back, glancing around. The room was.. a mess, to say the least. Clothes hung over every corner, to-go cups and empty beer bottles lining what used to be a desk. Her brow furrowed a little, that was another reason why she liked the darkness, it made it easier to ignore what was right in front of her. The ceiling continued to rattle above, exaggerated cries that definitely didn't match the pace of whoever was up there with her. Poor thing. Ellie reached over her bedside to turn off that lamp when she caught a glimmer of her reflection in the mirror.

Moving closer, she let her eyes gaze over her speckled skin, old bruises still fading. She looked like a mess. Unkempt hair, a towel still hanging from her hips and dark circles under her eyes that looked more akin to smudged eyeshadow. She cocked her head slightly, eyes roaming over the small cleavage that was still rosy from the shower. With the stranger's whimpers in her ears, she let a hand trail over her firm breast, exhaling back through her lips as she held herself.

Ellie's eyes drooped shut as she slowly traced along her ribs, up to her collar and around her neck. With a slight squeeze her hips swayed forward gently, mimicking the creaking of the floorboards. She rolled her head around limply before settling her half-lidded gaze back on her own reflection.

Her hands drifted back down to the white fabric that concealed her lower, unwrapping the towel gently and letting it sink to the floor. Her body grew rigid as it dropped, her blood running cold. Along her upper thighs were faint greenish-yellow veins that crawled along her skin and up across her abdomen like a soft pulse beneath her skin. Her crooked finger traced over one of the lines, a slight tremor in her own touch. She swallowed deeply.

She slowly tilted her body to the side, seeing that some of the veins ran up her back, curling around her waist like dying plants. As her gaze flickered over her body she grew paranoid, now up close and personal with the mirror as she examined every inch of her skin. Aside from the veins she seemed relatively normal.

Her eyes were a little darker than before, though that could be from hiding herself away in unlit rooms and the lack of sleep she'd been getting. It was normal, she was normal, just a strange reaction. Might've been a bug bite or a kidney infection or something. She'd pick up some over the counter drug and be fine.

After all, she was immune, right?

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

The weather was just as awful the next day, heavy rain splattering down on her coat, beads of water rolling down her boots with every step as she shuffled down the street. Her teeth were gritted at the whips of wind. Eventually she made it down to the foster center, the playground drenched and muddy with no sense of life. Rolls of thunder brewed behind the clouds, electrical wires dancing in the harsh winds.

Moving up to the entrance she rapped on the door, loud enough that if there were people inside they'd hear. Though, where else would they be? The lights were shut off, the place likely short on power in the storm. Ellie had initially left her place with the intention of returning your compressor, not noticing the severity of the clouds until it was too late.

The door swung open, and your eyes widened to see her there. Ellie, soaked to the skin with a crooked smile and muddy boots. She bit back a chuckle as you ushered her in quickly, shutting the door behind her.

"What the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy?"

You were wearing a teddy-bear colored fleece with baggy jeans and brown boots, your hair in two messy braids and eyes wide set with concern. You looked cute.

"Came to fix the vent, bad time?"

She teased with a soft chuckle, considering there wasn't a single light on in the building. Your cheeks were red like you'd been rushing around. She wondered if you were still afraid of thunderstorms. You used to be. You scoffed in mild irritation, folding your arms and starting to walk away from her. Ellie clambered after you with a shit eating grin.

"Hey don't be like that.. I can probably get your generator working too.."

She called out after you, trudging down the hallway and peeling off her coat to hang up. You waited for her with an expression of subtle amusement and relief, letting her follow along with you back to the playroom. Inside was all the little ones curled up together by the supervisors who were holding candles and trying to keep everyone calm. There was puffy eyes, tears, and anxious faces. Ellie had to bite back another laugh, covering her mouth before you jabbed her in the side with your elbow. She nudged you back almost childishly, this time leaning down to speak to you.

"It's not chemical warfare outside you know, you got them all huddled together like a nuke's about to drop.."

She mused against your ear, chuckling as you batted her away again with your hands. Ellie rummaged through her backpack for a flashlight, heading back down the hallway where you had said the generator was. When she pried open the old cupboard, the thing was covered in a matte layer of dust, her brows furrowed as she searched for the fuse 'round the back. Eventually it clicked in, but the generator simply let out a chortled chuff of smoke before shutting off again. Damn.

As she got a closer look, she felt a sudden rush of unease flood her. However, it didn't feel like her unease. Pulling her head back from the dirty closet, she glanced side-long down the hallway. Ellie noticed you at the end, staring out of the window with those worried eyes as the thunder shoved against the small building. She remained crouched on her hind, eyes soft for a moment.

She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt attuned to you, it was like she could smell how uncomfortable you were. Scooting herself up, Ellie padded down the corridor, coming up behind you and carefully placing her dusty hands on your arms. Your body went rigid at the unexpected contact, but when you moved your head back to see Ellie, you relaxed slightly, lowering your head sheepishly.

"..Still don't like the thunder huh?"

Her voice was soft, low, she almost didn't even recognize it as her own. She studied your expression, stress creased into the lines on your forehead and that stain of redness on your cheeks. Ellie could tell it still bothered you, it's why you were out here instead of in with the rest of the tots. You didn't want them to be scared, and they certainly wouldn't be reassured by seeing you scared too. You swallowed, turning to make up some sort of half-assed excuse for why you were out here when there was another bang of thunder.

Before she could register it, you were against her chest. Her arm's hovered in the air for a moment, those veins pulsing beneath her clothes in a way that made her heart sink. She hoped you wouldn't notice. Her arms slowly lowered themselves around you, a sigh drifting from her lips as she patted your head and gazed out at the lashing rain. Ellie's felt that warm nostalgia floating around her, holding you close again. You were kids then, it felt different now.

"s'Just rain.. just noise sweetheart.."

Her voice came soft against your ear, tucking some strands of hair back into place as you continued to hide away against her chest. She didn't like that you were so tense, that such a brave woman like you was still so wary of things beyond your control. You tilted your head up to look at her, and that puffy face of yours damn near broke her heart. Ellie gazed down at you, her crooked fingers still adjusting your braids. She didn't like seeing you upset, and she couldn't fathom why she could feel you being upset.

Your eyes lingered on her face, freckles splotching across her cheeks and heavy bags under those dark eyes. The way she adjusted your hair made your heart flutter, a hint of heat creeping up the collar. Ellie was feeling something similar, her finger's burning against your skin and your perfume practically invading her nose. Then she felt it again, that pulsing under her skin, and her hand dropped. She took a guided step back from you, not entirely trusting her own body no matter how badly she wanted to be close to you.

Her rejection stung, a subtle ache that swirled around your gut. It was typical of Ellie, to push you away when she got nervous or scared. You wished she wasn't like that, wished she'd pull you closer instead.

"Els.."

You began to speak, your voice a guarded whisper. Before you could even finish the thought though, the lights flickered back on, the busted generator churning loudly like an old fan. There was lots of excited chatter filling the air now, squeals and little claps. The air between you though still stayed thick, your eyes searching hers. They were dark, a hint of clarity in them that was unfamiliar to you. Ellie's heart was thudding in her chest, her fingers twitching. She avoided your gaze, distant.

"Ellie?"

Your voice was softer now, a little more worried at the lack of.. well anything from her. You bridged the gap yourself, gently taking her arm and trying to look up at her lowered face. You still felt warm, she felt colder now. Maybe it was the rain, you thought, she could be sick. Her skin was still clammy from the walk, her hair soaked through and you sighed softly.

"Hang around, yeah? I'll give you a ride home when the rain eases up.."

She looked up at you when you spoke this time, brows furrowed as that thudding in her chest continued. It was disorientating, your lips were moving but it was difficult for her to know what you were saying to her. Still, when you patted her arm and guided her to a comfy chair inside one of the playrooms she recognized that you wanted her to stay here. She watched you walk away, a strained sigh leaving through her teeth.

After some slow, measured breaths that pulsing beneath her skin started to calm, replaced by a deep hollowness on the inside of her chest. She fiddled with her shirt sleeve, her gaze trailing over the various activities that were kicking off between the junior inmates. Ellie knew she should get up, fix your vent like she came here to do in the first place but at the minute she was weighed to the chair. Her gaze flickered to a little girl sitting by herself in the corner, book in hand.

She had short-ish hair, splotchy cheeks and was reading about space with glasses pushed up her nose that were way too big for her. Ellie's eyes lingered, a bittersweet sense of familiarity circling around her. The girl did occasionally look up, watching what was happening around her but never being directly involved with whatever game was taking place. She felt too old. It was a feeling Ellie knew all too well.

Ellie swallowed that unease in her gut, slowly getting up and heading to the air unit. Now that the power was back, she could actually see what she was doing. She unscrewed the panel again, her brain on auto-pilot as she screwed the 'new' compressor back into place and re-attached the belt. Once it was all bolted back down, Ellie placed back over the grate, fiddling with some of the air-con settings to see if it was back in working order. When that gust of soft warm air hit her face she felt that flicker of satisfaction.

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

It was around eight when you eventually got back to Ellie's apartment, walking her to the door despite her insistence that she was fine. Her mouth was dry when you looked up at her, a soft expression on her face that only you seemed to get out of her. She was all too aware of how you smelled. It was like your perfume had doubled in intensity since you left the car, it made her brain foggy as she fumbled with her house keys. As she pushed the creaking door open she glanced back at you.

"..Wanna come in for a bit? I got beer.."

Her voice was quiet, vulnerable.

"I have to drive, Els.."

You let out a gentle laugh, but you weren't saying no to coming in.

Ellie led you to the living room, giving you the better cushion on her beaten-up sofa, a small grin growing on her lips. Ellie still felt.. off, even as you cozied up with some blankets and soda. It started off pleasant though, soft chatter above the TV as you sat close. She could feel how warm you were, her heart thudding gently in her chest. She played it off though, lazily scrolling through her contact list to search for the takeout number.

Her fingers twitched as she tried to pay attention to what you were saying. You'd started talking about how you'd eventually found a foster family here in Seattle, you got your certificate online for pre-primary teaching and childcare. She wanted to listen, she really did. But the TV was playing, the harsh blue light rubbing against her dry eyes. Whatever you were wearing was so strong she felt like she might cough it up, and your voice became a drone that made her head pound. Her left hand brought a cold beer to her lips, trying to keep contact with your pretty eyes.

There was a bit of peace when the food arrived, she could focus on the tastes swishing around in her mouth as it filled her gut. She liked to eat. Your arm was brushing against her side while you both sat there, your legs crossed as you snacked on some spring rolls. Her eyes flickered over to the way your mouth bit down onto them, the crunch and the way your neck bobbed with each swallow. It was more distracting than it should've been. Ellie wasn't sure if she wanted to be the one biting down, or to be the one that you sank your molars into. Her brow lowered, put-off by her own staring as she shoved some more rice into her mouth.

There was nothing in her that wanted more than to be closer to you, to hear those sweet sounds in her ear. But still somehow your voice was too loud, and your body was too close to hers. As she watched the bluescreen across from the two of you, she could feel that dull pounding in her head kicking in. She tried to ignore it, couldn't exactly shut herself in a dark room. She snapped at you. She didn't mean it.

"God could you just.. just be quiet for a second.."

Her voice was low, cutting you off while you told her some silly fact about the actor who was on-screen. She hadn't even expected to say it until the words were already out, and the look on your face made her feel like she'd been socked in the jaw. Ellie felt antsy still, her head aching now with the familiar bug of guilt that was chewing on her gut lining.

"I'm sorry.. I didn't mean that, s'just.. my head.."

She spoke out in an unsteady murmur, rubbing at her forehead with her cool palm in an effort to ease her mind. She wanted to be like you, or she wanted to be with you, she hadn't figured that part out yet. She figured you'd be fed up with her huffing, she'd been a dick to you all day. Her head hurt. Sweat had started to pool around her neck, dripping down her back in an unpleasant shiver as she crouched forward, the floor blurring. The TV continued to drone, her crooked fingers trembling against her face.

And then, softness.

Your hands were touching her arms, gently prying her hands from her pale face. She almost wanted to bark at you for taking away her brief relief, but then your small hand found it's way to her forehead.

"God Els.. you're burning.."

Your hands glided back into her scruffy hair, noticing the beads of sweat that'd gathered around her forehead and the way she looked at you with those lost eyes. Ellie had been quiet for most of the night, you figured she was awkward and nervous. Now it seemed something lay deeper under that skin, her hands coming up to grip onto your wrists. You rubbed her hair back for a few moments before letting go. After turning off the TV and gathering some cold water you held it to her dry, pink lips. She drank it down like a dying man. With the lights now dimmed she seemed to gain some of her focus back, but still that guilt persisted.

"I want you here.. don't know what's wrong with me.."

Her voice was a strained mutter, her fingers still twitching at her brow as she tried to focus on that pretty face of yours. She looked sick, maybe a fever from being out in the rain. You couldn't help but grow softer at the confession, figuring she was simply grumpy and overtired. It was sort of like the kids you'd deal with, throwing tantrums usually because basic needs weren't met. You continued to nurse that water into her, your hand resting on her upper back. Ellie wanted that hand everywhere.

She let her head hang low, deep measured breaths leaving her lips as her shoulders hunched over. Ellie tried not to think about the fact that she'd snapped at you, the fact that her teeth hurt and her stomach was covered in veins. She didn't want to think about it, and she certainly didn't want you to think about it either. The urge was there, to hide herself away and be alone, but it felt so nice to have a hand on her back, to have your palm holding her head.

Eventually the pain stilled, the world was a little quieter now. She looked up from her shoulders, her hazel eyes meeting yours almost sheepishly. Your hand was still on her back, the other smoothing down her hair as though she was a dog. It made her huff. Her eyes traced your features, the look of worry in your eyes.

"M'okay sweetheart, just get these migraines sometimes.. it's like my skull is being split open.."

You let out a soft hum at her words, mulling over her behavior. It made sense, you'd noticed the dark bags under her eyes so Ellie likely didn't sleep well. Her fridge was full of junk, and the sweat that beaded her skin was a cry for hydration. Not to mention the fact she'd spent an hour in the rain today. Your finger brushed a strand that had fallen into her face, both of you once again stilling at the intimate contact. To Ellie's disappointment, you were the one who pulled away this time, your hands falling down to your lap as you cleared your throat.

"Well it's no wonder, you look like a damn zombie Els, probably running on nothing.."

"Mm.. feels like it.."

She huffed out an uneasy laugh, her hand slowly finding yours. She felt a little calmer now, though her temper seemed to flutter under the surface of her skin like an elastic band that could snap. You let out a warm giggle in response, rolling your eyes as you held onto her cold hand. Your fingers idly traced her pointed knuckles, noticing the red and purple blotches that coated them. Your brows mulled together.

"You've been fighting?"

Your voice was gentle, it made her feel less defensive. She didn't withdraw from you, too engrossed by your fingers on her skin. Still, Ellie had no idea how to even explain what her life had been like this far. She knew you wouldn't judge her, even if you both grew in different ways. She nodded.

"Yeah, something like that.."

She chewed on her bottom lip, remembering how her hands had felt wrapped around Abby's neck.

"Sort of found myself a family like you, his name was Joel.."

Ellie hadn't planned on letting you in, but it seemed her heart had other ideas.

"He.. he raised me, in all the ways that mattered anyway.."

Her red eyes brimmed with salted tears that she didn't want to let fall. Her face was hunched over again, so one simply dripped straight down onto the floor. Your silent gaze conveyed empathy, she knew you were listening.

"But he was an idiot.. got himself killed and I couldn't-"

She swallowed deeply, his bloody beaten face looking her dead in the eye. She felt sick to her stomach at the image, at the squelch of the golf-club bludgeoning his skull. Her fingers started to twitch, that hollow ache in her gut that spread up to her kidneys.

"Oh Els.."

Your voice was a whisper, and you didn't even know if she had heard it over the sound of her own breathing. Shifting closer, your free hand hovered near her arm. Her tears were dripping down onto the carpet, and it felt like your heart was being squeezed tight. Ellie continued to stare at the ground when she felt your warm arm around her shoulders, holding her to your side. She wanted to be closer, to be under your skin. Ellie let her forehead press into your collar, but kept her hands to herself.

"I don't think you should be here.. m'not.. I.."

Her words didn't make much sense, her thoughts muddled and warm and confused. Your fingers continued to travel along her brown strands, unable to look away from those red-brimmed eyes, that dark look in them that stood stark against her pale skin. You cradled her face, your breath a ghost over her cheek as you let your nose nudge into the side of her ear. Ellie tensed, her head tilting ever so slightly before one of her cold, large hand finds it's way to your hair, pulling you in closer to her neck. That was always the way with her, her lips telling you one thing and her hands contradicting it.

Her shoulders were hunched, sweat dripping down the back of her neck. You could smell it the minute you hovered, a mix of cologne and petrol with that hint of sweat. Prying back her hair you tied it up into a bun, despite her grumbled protests about having the back of her neck exposed.

"You're too hot.. Trust me, I don't give a damn about the back of your neck.."

Your voice was almost exasperated, a hint of amusement sparkling in your eyes at her antics. Ellie liked to be particular about things, her hairstyle was one of them. If she got a haircut, good luck getting to see her do anything else for a few years. It was cute in it's own way, but that half-up half-down was doing nothing to cool her down.

Ellie refused to remove her sweats or her t-shirt, she couldn't let you see what was hiding under the fabric. You sighed, not pushing her on it but instead just coaxing her upward.

"Think you need to get some sleep honey, and take those sweats off when I leave, you'll cool down.."

Your voice was gentle as you guided her into what you assumed was the bedroom. Ellie winced when you turned on the light, exposing a dump ground of dirty laundry, stained bedsheets and a small country worth of bottle cans. She avoided your gaze as you set her over on the bed, crouching down in front of her.

"Didn't think anyone would b' over.. I would've cleaned it you know.."

Her voice was a vulnerable whisper, her fingers twitching at the drawstring of her sweats. She didn't like that you were seeing her this way, it was humiliating. Your eyes were understanding though, and you gently rubbed her knee.

"I know.. I get off this Sunday, if you'd like I have a stack of black bags and a bottle of Mr. Clean.."

Ellie's eyes shot down to your hand on her knee, then back up to your warm eyes. Your teasing yet caring tone made her heart flutter. Her mouth still felt dry, and as she looked around the room, she knew that she probably couldn't do it alone.

"Yeah, yeah okay.."

Her voice came quiet, the veins under her skin still pulsing. She leaned down so that her arms were resting on her upper thighs, your voices closer together. Her dark eyes searched your features, lifting a hand to gently trace down one of your messy braids.

The air between you was warm, eyes locked while you knelt between her legs. She leaned over you, fascinated with your knitted hair and your soft eyes. Up close she was still pretty, dark lashes that brushed over a sullen brow. The small glimmers of sweat still dripped down the back of Ellie's neck, a soft shudder leaving her lips.

Ellie leaned down closer, her exhales gently blowing against your cheek. You reached a hand up slowly, taking her fingers that were carding through your braid. Ellie flicked her tongue out over her dry lips, wanting nothing more than to lean down and press her face to yours. You held her gaze, watching as she began to lean down to you with half-lidded eyes and rosy cheeks.

As much as you wanted to give in to that, to see where this unexpected fling would lead, you knew it wasn't right. You gently took her cheeks before she could kiss you, and her eyes flickered open. Ellie felt a tingling of rejection in her gut once you stopped her, her eyes shifting from vulnerable softness to a hurt defensiveness. She slowly straightened up, avoiding your gaze.

"Still not into girls huh?"

A gentle smile tugged at your lips at her almost petulant response, the way she folded her arms and pushed you away like you'd just broken her heart. You shook your head with a soft laugh.

"I'm not into girls who aren't in the right headspace to make an informed decision.."

Your voice was knowing. As cute as this freckled girl was, she was clearly not in the right mindset to do anything with. You knew that she wasn't well, not right now anyways. When she continued to avoid your gaze, you gently pulled her chin back to face you.

"Not like this, okay?"

You spoke softer this time, the look in your eyes reassuring her that you did want her, it just wasn't the right moment for this to go any further. Ellie held your eyes for a few moments before nodding with a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping.

"You know you don't always need to be responsible.."

She grumbled, though there was a flicker of amusement tugging at her lips, pretending like she was still mad at you.

"I know, boring as ever.."

You murmured softly, still knelt between her legs with a gentle expression. You reached up to Ellie again, petting down the side of her hair as you studied those rosy freckles and dark eyes.

"You're beautiful.. you know that? Haven't changed a bit.."

Ellie almost short-circuited when you called her that, she almost didn't believe you. In her mind she had changed, no longer some greasy kid with braces and a plethora of facts about the solar system. She leaned her head against your palm, her face still warm. Her arms then sunk down to you, bringing you into a warm hug.

You jolted when she suddenly grabbed you with ease, surprised by the display of strength in her weak state. She was so sweet though, and you all but melted as she hid her face in your chest. You let out a chuckle, patting the top of her head and letting her hold onto you for a moment.

"I'm gonna head home now Els, get some sleep yeah?"

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

The laundry machine rattled against the floorboards in her kitchen, bundles of clothes sloshing around while others hung up on a small drying rack. You were still managing to find dirty bras and t-shirts stuffed under her bed, your nose wrinkling slightly.

"No wonder you always wear the same clothes, half your shit is buried.."

You teased, carrying another basket full of laundry to where Ellie sat by the counter, watching the clothes spinning around. She still wasn't feeling her best, but your company had her eyes sparkling even through the embarrassment of this 'early spring clean', as you called it. She slid down off of the counter, taking the heavy basket from your hands and sitting it down by the washing machine.

"I'm on a journey to a minimalist wardrobe.."

She shrugged, ruffling through some old band t-shirts that she'd forgot she even owned. Some of them were definitely more suited for the trash, with rips and stains that no amount of washing could fix. You tugged out a black laced bra from the pile, raising a brow. It was such a contrast to Ellie's.. everything, and you couldn't help but giggle as you lifted it up.

"Ellie Williams.. I didn't know you had someone to wear all that for.."

You spoke, a shit-eating grin on your face as you watched her go hot in the cheeks. Ellie was quickly moving toward you, trying to wrestle the bra out of your hands while you giggled and tried to squirm away.

"How d'you know it's even mine?"

She grumbled out in a fluster, cornering you against the counter and managing to get the thin garment out of your grip. You continued to laugh at her, a rosy tint to your own cheeks. The idea of it belonging to someone else did send a strange flicker of insecurity through you, but judging by how Ellie was currently red in the face and flustered you had a feeling that wasn't the case.

"That doesn't make it much better.."

You huffed, folding your arms as she stuffed it back into the laundry basket. Ellie stood back up, raising a brow at the way your tone had shifted ever so slightly. More focused on you now than her shyness, she moved closer, leaning against the counter playfully. You scoffed, pushing at her chest to try and get some amount of personal space back.

"That wasn't an invitation.."

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile that split through your teeth as you managed to escape her trap, heading back to the bedroom. You could hear her chuckling in the kitchen still, cleaning down countertops. After shaking the shyness from your cheeks, you got back to work stuffing all those dirty cans and beer bottles into a black bag. The place was already looking better, brighter. That might have something to do with the way you had forced all the curtains open as soon as you arrived, despite the protests of that vampire of a woman in the other room.

As you shoveled trash into the plastic bag, you noticed a small shoebox tucked beneath the bed. A hint of curiosity crept over you, but you hesitated. For all you knew that could be a box of porno CDs or genuinely an old pair of shoes. Still, your hand tentatively reached over to pull it out from under the bedframe. You glanced over to the doorway, where you could still hear Ellie moving around and clearing out her cupboards of expired food.

Still, the glitter covered box drew you in, a large 'E' plastered on with old glue stick and painted with stickers. It was cute, reminded you of how Ellie used to be. Your fingers traced along some of the stickers, the box painted messily in a pale lavender color with remnants of cardboard brown peeking through.

You set aside the lid onto the carpet, peering inside. The box was filled to the brim with photos, wristbands and tickets. A warm feeling swirled in your stomach as you lifted some of the polaroids, Ellie with a big grin full of braces as she held up a fish with an older man. Joel, you assumed.

Some of the other items caught your eye too, old drawings of her as an astronaut and one poorly drawn horse. You were beaming ear to ear without even realizing, feeling as though you were catching up on the life that she kept hidden so tight to her chest. Hidden amongst the memorabilia was also a photo of.. you. Truth be told you didn't even know this image existed, a little seven year old you with that choppy haircut and watching a film on tape.

You recognized that blurry sort of texture, that cartoonish watermark that came from those off-brand kid cameras. A rosy shyness dusted your cheeks as you found some more, one a selfie of you and her. You even found some photos of an older you, from the foster family you inevitably got adopted into. Clearly given to Ellie in a means of comfort while she was still in the system.

You weren't sure when you started to tear up, maybe it was the polaroid of Ellie and Joel that had 'love you babygirl' scribbled onto the back in messy sharpie or perhaps the drawing of you and Ellie holding hands in a crooked love heart.

It was a bittersweet feeling, and it near destroyed you to think about how this poor girl had lost practically everything. At the time you were a year younger than her, still not fully mature enough to realize the depth of her affections for you. A few tears dripped down your cheeks, staining the old notepad paper.

Ellie trudged into the bedroom, wondering why it had gone so quiet all of a sudden considering you'd been squawking all morning about how much of a mess her place was. Her heart dropped as she seen you knelt by her bed, a hand over your lips and eyes brimmed with tears. The next thing she noticed was the small lavender box on your lap, pictured scattered across the carpet. She felt that intense flash of anger at you for going through her stuff, though her feelings for you swallowed that heat.

You noticed her in the doorway, staring up at her tearfully like a deer in headlights. You knew you shouldn't have been snooping around, there to clean not go through her stuff. The allure of simpler times had gotten to you, and now your heart felt ten times heavier with guilt from the pain that Ellie was in.

"Els.. I'm so sorry.."

You weren't too sure whether you were apologizing for going through her things, for what she'd gone through, or for leaving her. Ellie watched as you hid your face in your hands, shoulders shaking subtly. Despite the haze that clouded her mind, her feet began to move of their own will as she sat down onto the floor beside you. She pried the box from your trembling hands, before pulling you gently between her legs and against her chest.

You weren't expecting to be cradled that way, and you hid your face away against her collar. Warm tears still dripped from your cheeks, Ellie's face brushing against your head. Ellie was still incredibly warm, and it was easy to relax. You slowly raised your head, batting wet eyelashes at her. Ellie watched as you held one of the pictures of you two together.

"I didn't realize.. I.."

Your voice was an unsteady whisper, your freehand still covering your lips as you sat between her legs.

"We were kids.."

Ellie muttered softly, patting along the side of your hair as her own heart burned from the memories. She'd spent so much time back then comforting you, soothing how homesick you were. Ellie hadn't even known what to do with herself when you never came back. Unsure of what came over her, Ellie leaned down to smell your hair again.

"I know that but I could've.. I didn't mean to leave you there.."

You let go of the polaroid, letting it sit back into the box and instead wrapping your arms around her so tight that you were surprised she didn't push you away. Ellie continued to rub down the side of your head, her other crooked hand tracing along your back. She almost lost herself in your hair, engrossed by the smells and textures. That cloud over her brain continued to worsen, a billow of frustration swirling in her gut that she couldn't stay present with you.

Sitting against her on the floor was surprisingly cozy, her arms keeping you close as you rested your head against her chest. You were used to her not replying by now, she got too caught up in whatever she was thinking about. Typically though, you didn't mind, not when she was holding you close like this.

You soon felt her mouthing at your hair, biting at strands like a kitten and couldn't help but let out a watery giggle, pulling back just enough to raise a brow. Her eyes were dark and lidded, her fingers still gliding down the side of your head.

"What are you doing?"

Your voice was soft, unable to hide the amusement in your tone.

"I don't know.."

Ellie confessed, holding back the urge to continue. The truth was it'd gotten worse, she'd gotten worse. The thoughts louder, the migraines harsher, the control weaker. You smiled at her warmly, before your gaze drifted down to her neck. A cold chill trickled down your spine as you noticed faint green and yellow veins peeking out ever so slightly from the collar of her shirt that faintly pulsed beneath her skin.

Ellie noticed your gaze immediately, trying to shift and tug up her shirt but she knew it was too late. You'd seen it.

"What the fuck is that?"

Your voice came a nervous whisper, not even wanting the answer.

"It's.. I don't know.."

She felt like a broken record, her thoughts looping around and around in circles in a way that almost made her dizzy.

"Take off your shirt.."

"..I can't, let me-"

"Ellie, take off the damn shirt.."

Your voice came strained, a raised tone that left zero room for argument. Tears brimmed in Ellie's eyes, her fingers trembling as she reached for the bottom of her t-shirt. Your hand flew to your lips as she exposed her chest, covered in veins and blotches of greenish yellow, her ribs pulsing like it had it's own heartbeat. For a moment you were stunned into silence.

"Jesus Christ.."

You spoke in a whisper, your warm fingers reaching out carefully to trace along some of the veins that fluttered gently at your touch. They covered all along her abdomen and across her breasts, crawling around her collar and down her back. Ellie was staring at you wide-eyed, her eyelashes growing wet with held back floods.

"Did you get bit? What-.. what is this?"

You looked up at her, wanting answers yet still fearing the answers that they might bring.

"I got bit.. five years ago.. I'm immune, or-.. I should be.."

Ellie spoke, a few stray tears falling down to the carpet as she avoided your gaze, feeling utterly exposed under your eyes. Her chest was a sore sight, covered in veins and murky colors that stood out grimly against her pale skin. Despite her fears she was still gripping your shirt tightly, she was scared.

You continue to look her over, before meeting her dark eyes again. It was all starting to make sense; the mood swings, the lack of concentration, the way she walked around like she barely knew where she was. Your heart sunk further as you wiped away some of her tears, your warm fingers rubbing against her marred cheeks. It was no surprise Ellie was immune, but infections adapt to their biome. What was more likely the case was that the fungus had sat dormant, taking hold of her and gradually spreading over time.

"Something's happening to me.."

Her voice was a watery whisper, her skin pulsing just beneath the flesh.

"I can't sleep, I get so-.. so angry all the time, n' I throw shit around.. can't even think straight.."

You held her burning cheeks, your own eyes glossy with worry as she finally confessed all that had been happening lately. Part of you was pissed off that she'd kept something so serious from you, but seeing her cry like that made it difficult to hold onto.

"..m' so damn scared.. sweetheart"

Ellie confessed, a vulnerability in her tone that she hadn't let through in years. You were quick to pull her to your chest again, feeling the heat of her skin and the strange textures of her back. Your heart was racing in your chest, and Ellie could practically hear it. Ellie mouthed at your shirt, trying to calm down as much as she could. She was afraid of how easy it was for her to lose herself these days, a little grievance or a memory dragging her beneath a heavy current.

"It's okay.. we'll figure this out.."

Truthfully, you were terrified. The look in her eyes though kept you grounded, you wouldn't leave her again, not like this. You brushed more of her wet tears away, unable to reason with yourself this time. You leaned down to her, your nose rubbing against her cheek and seeking the permission of her lips. Ellie shied away, afraid that somehow she'd transfer this gross bacteria to you. Her hand was braced against your hair still, her other sinking down to your hip.

"What if-.."

Her voice was a watery whisper, and you didn't need her to continue to know where her fears lay.

"I don't care.."

You confessed, stroking her marred cheek as you rested against her lap. The thought of her here all alone, suffering through whatever this was destroyed you. There wasn't anything in this world that could convince you to leave her. You pushed back more of her tangled hair, glossy eyes tracing over her pale face that had already begun to show signs of discoloring.

Ellie's gaze ghosted over your warm lips, soft and pink and all that she'd been able to think about since she found you again. Her trembling hand brought you closer, her movements disjointed. With your warm breath on her face and your wordless pleas, she all but melted into your promises.

The cluster in her head went silent the moment your mouth met hers, her heart syncing to yours as she pulled you closer. Your smell was once again diluting her bloodstream, strong and lovely. Her cold hands trailed up your shirt and against the warm skin of your back, a shiver trickling down your spine as your lips moved against hers.

Your hands traced the lines of her skin, feeling that softness while you could. The kiss was practically a warm cuddle, your legs wrapped around her waist as you molded together on the bedroom floor. Ellie could already feel it, the tremor in her hands and the way she'd lose a grip on something light. Her motor skills were deteriorating, slowly, but steadfast. She knew that soon, she might not be able to touch you, to hold you like this, and so she pressed you to the cold wooden floor, embracing this moment that she knew might never happen again.

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ☆

The next few weeks were painful. Ellie had gotten worse by the day, puking blood and losing any sense of coherency that she'd had. She wasn't like anything you'd seen before, not exactly mutated but not herself either. You'd moved in a few nights after finding out, afraid to leave her alone in that apartment like this. You kept her keys now, locking her in the apartment whenever you had to leave to keep her from wandering. Not that she would, if anything she was even more of a homebody now.

Still it made going to work even more difficult, constantly checking your phone though you doubted she'd even think to call you if something happened. You were trying to push away the inevitable, knowing that soon it would get too hard to go to work. Already you had to re-explain to her every morning where you were going, why you were going, and the tearful tantrums that ensued. The worst part was getting home, most nights finding it in tatters or Ellie passed out in a pile of her own body fluids.

You'd have to lift her, cradling her by the head and trying to get her to wake up. She'd always try to escape you initially, to fight with you when you caught her off guard. Your arms often took the brunt of her anger or fear, holding deep scratches and bruises from where her blunt nails dug into your skin. It was the only way Ellie could express things to you, especially now that her vocal chords were mostly too tensed to make any coherent sounds. Some days were better than others, where sometimes you might get a poorly formed sentence or she'd let her give you a bath.

Those baths were a complete nightmare, especially at the beginning. Ellie often found it extremely distressing to have her body exposed to you, and to her own eyes. She was covered in those yellow-green face, rough textures and blotches of callouses sprouting along her back and inner thighs. You always tried to calm that insecurity she felt, saying she felt like the moon and how beautiful she was. Even still, her once hazel eyes were now dark and clouded, paranoid. During bath time you'd taken to just covering her eyes with a small scarf, like one might do to a travelling horse. It made her calmer.

When you did manage to get her to sit into the lukewarm water, her fist would be painfully tight around your wrist at every moment. The first few times you'd washed her you ended up soaked to the bone whenever she caught sight of some peeled skin floating in the water. Her wet nude frame had refused to leave your arms, drenching you in the process as you tried to soothe her, to remind her that her skin wasn't falling off.

You loved her, but you were exhausted.

The clawing at your arms, the sleepless nights and her unwillingness to detach from your body was slowly grating at your patience. Ellie didn't exactly recognize personal space anymore, she liked to smell your hair and be all over you like a slobbering dog. Her breath would stick to your face and neck, her bony arms usually too tight around your shoulders while she chewed on your hair or your earlobe. You knew she didn't mean it, but it still wore you out, especially on nights where you just needed to be alone for an hour.

You didn't have it in your heart to blame her, not when she was puking up clots in the toilet or hiding in the closet because something had frightened her. You were both stuck in this desperate cycle, wanting the other but suffering from this broken dynamic. You feared the day that you couldn't care for her anymore, and you knew she felt it too. You wouldn't leave her, you knew that. But it grew to a point where eventually, you snapped;

It'd been a long day at the center, an issue with adoption contracts that led to the foster families pulling out last minute from the arrangements. This led to you having to deal with children who had spent the day packing, crocodile tears and confused faces pulling at your clothes or getting angry at you. It was heart-breaking, and you were so worn out.

After getting home, all you craved was some quiet. One hour, even. As you trudged up the cold stairwell and turned your keys into the door, a breath left your lips at the state of the apartment. You'd gotten used to the mess, half the time you didn't even bother cleaning it because Ellie would tear into it a few hours later. But this was ridiculous. Pillows were strewn about the floor, and your favorite vase of flowers was lying in a million pieces by the kitchen counter.

With Ellie nowhere to be seen, you approached your broken vase. While you were trying to collect some of the pieces, your bag slipped from your shoulder and caught on your hair. You cut your hand on a shard, letting out a yell of irritation as you slammed the bag away, rubbing a shaky hand against your forehead. Ellie heard your voice, stumbling into the room with her janky sort of walk, eyes trailed on you.

Before you could even take a minute to gather your scrambled thoughts, Ellie was all over you. Her bony arms circled your torso tightly, cooing in her attempts at a soft greeting. She pressed her face into your neck, but you were so hot and vexed that it just made you feel another flare of anger. Ellie found it difficult to differentiate your moods these days, she couldn't tell that you were on the brim of exploding.

You didn't mean to shove her, but when you did your blood ran cold. You couldn't believe that you'd done it, her fragile body hitting the ground with a thump and a pained groan. Some of the broken glass on the floor dug into her arm, little trickles of blood staining her pale skin. The pain was sudden, and like a frightened cat Ellie started to claw at the floorboards, her voice coming out in loud garbled tones. You quickly tried to quieten her down, it was difficult enough as it was to keep her hidden from her landlord.

"Shit- Els.. I'm sorry-.."

You tried to get at her bloodied arm, to make sure she was okay but she wouldn't let you near her. When you tried to grab onto her shoulder she writhed, digging her blunt nails into your arm and sending a searing sting of pain through your already hot flesh. You let another exasperated shout, trying to get her to detach herself from your skin. Ellie looked at you with those wild eyes, her thoughts running half a minute to try and comprehend what was happening, why it was happening. You couldn't deal with this, you couldn't deal with her right now.

Once you managed to get her off, you made a bee-line to the bedroom. You needed some sort of space before you a blew a casket against your girl. The lock clicked as you shut yourself off behind the door, ripping out jewellery and tying back your hair in and effort to cool down. Ellie clawed at the door, groans of fear and frustration at being unable to get to you fleeing her lips.

Ellie wasn't angry at you though.

There was still that little spark of her there, that semi-awareness that haunted her skin despite the lack of control that she had over her body. She hated how badly she was hurting you, how frustrated you got with her inabilities. You tried so hard to be patient with her, and it made her well up at how much of a burden she was. She couldn't help it when her grip forcefully tightened and she couldn't get the muscle to relax, or the flush of anger that came whenever you tried to leave her alone.

Her motor skills barely functioned anymore, even when she did try to clean her mess it often just made the mess worse. There where nights when you'd come home tired, or upset and she wanted nothing more to take care of you. She wanted to brush your hair with a gentle stroke and not a harsh tug, she wanted to make you smile like you did whenever she could muster a sentence. Ellie couldn't fathom why you were still here, why you stayed with her despite what she'd become. Her blunt and cracked nails continued to dig into the wooden door, hot tears now streaming down her discolored cheeks.

"Ph..s.. s-..rr..y.."

Ellie's voice was disjointed, the vowels clinging to her throat and refusing to make it any further. There were so many things that she needed to say, she knew you were hurting in there and it felt like she had no way to reach you. It broke what remained of her soft fleshy heart as she slowly retracted from the door. Her arm still stung from the broken glass, and with a huff she shuffled to the bathroom to try and rid any remaining shards from her skin.

After a few minutes of fumbling with unsteady fingers, it was all out. Ellie bent her shoulder awkwardly to rinse her marred arm under the cool tap. It dried quick, a surface wound that would only leave a few scratches. It was you that Ellie was worried about, locked away from with and with feelings that she probably couldn't comprehend even if she wanted to. She wanted to be good to you, to be the girl that she knew you deserved. Hearing you crying in the bedroom made her antsy, and she fought down the urge to force herself in.

Ellie staggered to the living room, eyes drifting upon your broken vase. It was an accident, she'd bumped against it earlier when she was trying to smell one of the flowers. Her crooked fingers twitched, and she tried with the best of her ability to clean it up with a small dustpan. Her jerky movements made the whole ordeal ten times more difficult, grunts of frustration leaving her maw every time her hand went in the wrong direction. She got everything up eventually, her heart fluttering with pride.

Ellie noticed one of the roses laying on the ground, crouching awkwardly to pick it up. She then glanced back over to you, shut away from her behind that wooden door. She felt that urge again, to claw and shout and drag you out, but she bit down on that thought as hard as she could. Instead she shuffled towards the bedroom, nudging her cheek against the door. She couldn't hear you crying anymore, that at least was a relief.

She slumped down onto the floor, her back against the wall as she traced the petals with her crooked finger. You had so much patience with her, every single day. Ellie wanted so badly to be patient for you too. She'd wait for you this time, until you were ready for her.

You'd managed to cool off are tying back your hair and taking long measured breaths. As you sat on the mattress, the tension slowly drifted from your shoulders. Your eyelashes fluttered open, gazing around. The bedroom was perfectly clean, something you hadn't noticed before. Your laundry was messily folded in lopsided piles on top of your drawers. Ellie knew you didn't like the mess, she tried to keep this space nice for you.

You felt another stain of guilt at the folded close and the sloppily made bed, knowing how hard this was for both of you. Still you could see how hard she was trying, and it was impossible for you to stay angry with her. You let out a few more deep breaths, stretching out your body with a sigh as you approached the pile of clothes. You stripped off your work pants and blouse, instead pulling her old clothes and letting her scent cuddle you.

It was the not knowing, that was the worst thing about it all. She would continue to deteriorate, you assumed anyways. However, Ellie's transformation was so slow, so unpredictable. You had no idea if one morning you'd wake up and she'd be completely gone. It scared you, and you knew it scared her too. She was hollowed out version of herself now, an Ellie with nothing but basic instincts and functions. It was her memories that had kept her warm, unbearably loveable. She still knew you, still knew that she loved you and that kept her present even in her hardest moments.

Your shoulders fell as you rolled them back into place, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment of peace. It was silent in the apartment now, and you couldn't help but spark a flicker of worry again. It made you feel uneasy when it was too quiet, because at least when she was loud and babbling you could locate her. Wanting to know what she was doing, you moved from the bed. Your nerves now settled.

As you reached for the doorknob, you caught ear of some gentle sniffling, a sound so soft it near broke your heart. The lamp light illuminated the hallway once you cracked open the door. Your eyes grew warm as you found Ellie, sitting on the cold floor and crying as quietly as she could into her calloused palms.

Oh Ellie.

You sunk to your knees beside her, slowly bringing a gentle hand over hers. Your other hand moved to those scruffy strands of hair, caressing the side of her head. It took some coaxing to get her to come back to you, but when she did lift her head, her dark eyes were wet with guilt and worry. Ellie fumbled with the rose she'd gotten, managing to get it up to your face with an apologetic murmur. She wanted to kiss you, but she couldn't. There was that risk now, that maybe she'd bite down on your lip or cheek by mistake.

You met her halfway, leaning down to smell the rose. The soft scent of the flower kissed your nose, making a gentle smile creep onto your lips. She was too sweet, and you adored her. You carefully took the rose from her grip, setting it aside. You brought her into a tight hug, mimicking the ones that she suffocates you with almost always. She responded well, immediately running her cold hands along your shoulders and hair as gentle as she could manage.

Ellie spoke a different language to you now, but it was one that you would never stop trying to learn.

[wroetominter]

Clueless - George Clarke

In which George and Fem!Reader are both entirely unaware how the other feels about them.

Warnings: alcohol, fluff, insinuations of NSFW but nothing actually nsfw.

———

"Becky how did I let you talk me into this?" I asked sitting across from her. She shrugged, laughing and agreeing that she had no idea how we ended up here. We were in Amsterdam with the group of boys who we almost always found ourselves with - typically getting drunk for content on the internet. We were doing a sequel to our previous London pub crawl that had everyone begging for more.

The summer heat beamed down on us as we sat in a beer garden at a large picnic table that our waitress had just placed eight pints down on. One for each of us. Myself, Becky, Chris, Arthur TV, Bach, Arthur Hill, George, and Harry.

We had decided to theme this pub golf around a set of challenges, a say it or shot it or who is most likely to for each pub, to enhance the fun, and the intoxication levels for everyone.

I sat between Arthur TV and George who were in a heated debate over something I had not entirely been paying attention to. My attention had solely been focused on the group of girls who had situated themselves at a booth across from ours. They were staring in our direction and you could hear faint whispers and giggles tossed in our direction.

I was used to this by now honestly, it wasn't exactly a secret to anyone that the lads were attractive, and the majority of them were single which gave more fuel to the fire of which is a fangirls desire.

We had chosen specific attire for this event, Becky and I having slightly more feminine versions of the pub golf shirts Chris had made, which happen to be the most cringe tshirts known to man. They all had a different bright color, and said "I'm here for an Amster-damn good time". Becky and I had on a cropped-tank top version of the shirt, and the boys had cutoffs or regular tshirts, depending on which style they had preferred.

Turning to my side, I saw George had now noticed the table of girls as well. His gaze lasted a few moments, redirecting to me when he noticed I had been staring. "What's up?" He took a drink from his glass.

"See anything you like?" I joked nudging his arm with mine. Noting how good his biceps looked in the cutoff he was wearing.

"Usually do when we're together." He smirked back quickly.

George and I had this strange relationship where we were constantly flirting with each other, but it had never gone further than that. We would play fight, tease each other, be far too handsy for just friends - yet we never fully crossed that line. Not to say I didn't want to, but I had this stubborn side of me that didn't want to be one of the many, many girls throwing themselves at him. I had seen the way those interactions turned out for people, and it usually didn't end well.

"You're such a tease George. Say it with your chest." I retorted.

"If you two love birds would stop eye fucking each other we could get this video started." Chris snapped, giving us a very sassy look. I smiled at him and flipped him off.

"Right, so!" Chris imitated Arthur as the intro began. The game started with a shot being given to who we thought fit the 'who is most likely to' question the best.

The who is most likely to in question was 'most likely to have three or more dates in a week?' A member of the camera crew read the question and we all immediately pointed to Chris, who's little hand stuck right out and pointed to me.

"Me?" I exclaimed. "You're actually insane if you think I'm going on three or more dates a week." Chris shook his head.

"I don't know, you did seem pretty cozy with that last guy you brought home." Becky added, her being my roommate she had seen her fair share of the few dates I have had in recent months.

"Gotta be honest with you, that wasn't a date Becky. That was a thirty minute max event.” I finished the remainder of my beer, earning a few wide eyed looks and Arthur TV giving me a "come on!"

We then got up from the first beer garden and made our way to the next location. I found George with a frustrated look on his face, which he quickly wiped away as the cameras began rolling again, capturing some of the banter happening throughout the groups.

Needless to say, by the time we made it to hole six, the majority of us were severely too drunk to be functioning.

"I'm seeing double of you." I said to Bach as I sat across from him.

"How do we look?" He asked flexing his muscles.

"Only slightly egotistical." This earned a laugh from the group.

"Okay enough enough. I've got a fun game this round." Harry had now had his turn to pick the game. "This is going to be a blind question. Everyone has a shot in front of them. We are going to start at this end of this table and each person except the person giving the shot will close their eyes. Once that person has placed their shot they will close their eyes and the next person will open, give their shot, and that continues until the last person has given their shot. You will be giving your shot to the person you find the most attractive." The group of us 'ooooh'ed' and 'ahhhh'd' at the idea.

It got to be my turn after the first two had placed their shots. I opened my eyes, very briefly scanning the table but needing no time to choose. I gently placed my shot in front of George, ensuring the glass didn't make noise as I placed it.

Only a few rounds later we were finished, and everyone now had a shot. These were double tequila shots - again Harry's choice. "Now to guess. If you correctly guess who gave you a shot, you only need to take half. If you guess incorrectly you take the whole thing."

This added a new element to the fun. None of us could really afford to be wrong considering how absolutely plastered we already were.

My turn to guess was now up, and I gazed around the table, tapping my finger to my lips in thought. I of course wanted to guess George. I honestly just selfishly wanted that to be the answer. To know that throughout this constant flirtation we had going that he found me attractive would be very telling to where this could go. I also was indecisive as I didn't want to be wrong, and then have my ego crushed.

Deciding the worst that happens is I get even more pissed, I finally made my decision. "I'm going to say George gave me this shot." I locked my eyes with his, looking for confirmation. He slowly nodded, and everyone cheered for me getting it right. I took half the shot, handing the other half to one of the crew members to have if they'd like.

Arthur Hill guessed that Chris had chosen him, and unfortunately he was wrong. Becky guessed that Harry said her, and she had been right. George was up next, seemingly very confident picking up his shot and taking half of it without a word. "What the hell! Cheating!" Chris shouted at him. George's eyes hadn't left mine.

"Not cheating. It was Y/n." I felt heat creeping to my cheeks this confident move from him. It was unfortunately insanely attractive to me.

"Was it?" Chris turned to me, the alcohol in his system causing him to borderline scream in my face.

"Yes Christopher, it was. You can sit down now." He began to pout and we laughed it off.

The end of the night was finally here, and we were all walking - stumbling - in a large group back to our hotels. We had finished the outro for the video at the last pub, with some of the boys jumping into a fountain. This had become somewhat of a tradition for our pub golf videos.

I was still incredibly energetic from the nights events. Even though it was nearing one the morning I felt like I had just woken up from a very restful nap.

"You alright darlin?" George asked wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we walked.

"Just fine handsome, how about you?" He smiled and shook his head slightly, laughing at the nickname.

"I'm far more drunk than I intended to be. But other than that I'm feeling pretty good." He said.

My memory flickered back to the beginning of the event and the liquid courage urged me to question his earlier expression after Becky had revealed to the group a one night stand I had. "George I have a serious question for you." I said. He slowed his pace, looking around and spotting a bench near us. He led me over to it and we sat down together, facing each other on the bench. I brought my leg up to rest on the seat, the other dangling over the side.

"What's your question?" I sensed some nervous energy behind his words.

"Earlier Becky outed me bringing a guy home. You made a face at the comment. Why?" His glance left mine for a moment, drifting to his hands where he was nervously picking at his nails. This was a different George to the confident flirty one I was used to.

"Dunno I guess, I mean..." he trailed off. I stared at him waiting for an answer. "I mean you and I flirt often, and I thought I had been making myself pretty clear that I was interested in you. So I guess just hearing that you had been with someone else just hurt me a little." I continued to stare at him. This time in disbelief.

"Are you telling me you're interested in me?" I normally wasn't this blunt in these kind of situations but the alcohol in my system was clouding my better judgement.

"I'm more than interested." He replied.

"George, why didn't you tell me? I've been watching you go on dates for months wishing it was me you were taking out." It was his turn to stare in disbelief. He took a few moments before speaking again.

"I thought you were just naturally the flirty type. Most girls are usually pretty straightforward with me." I let out a small laugh at this statement, scooting myself closer to George.

"You're more used to girls coming up to you and basically throwing themselves at you?" I teased.

He laughed, nodding slightly. "I guess I am."

I placed my hand on his thigh in front of me. "I can throw myself at you if you'd like." I said cheekily, giving his thigh a small rub. His hand found its way to the small of my back, his warm hand a stark contrast to the cool touch of my exposed back.

"Don't threaten me with a good time. Maybe we start with at least a kiss first?" I leaned in at these words, hand pressed to his chest as our lips met. It was a breathless taste of alcohol and desire. I pressed myself closer to him as the kiss deepened. I held my other hand still on his thigh, instinctively sliding it further up towards his crotch, pulling away almost immediately realizing we were in public.

"If we don't get back to the hotel I'm going to end up with an indecent exposure charge and in a foreign jail" George laughed at my joke, standing up and offering me his hand.

"Let's go then." I took his hand in mine and stood up, he pulled me into him as we began the walk back to the hotel.

“How did we end up both being so clueless?” I asked. He pulled me into his side, placing a soft kiss on my head.

“We’re stupid I guess.” I laughed in agreement as we entered the hotel to turn in for the night.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hi! I was wondering if I can request pete dinunzio dating fem!reader who’s the popular girl? Also if it’s ok can it be enemies to lovers? 😽

The horror fanatic and the popular

Pete DiNunzio x fem!reader

warning : kiss, fluff (as far as that's possible with him), mention of blood, enemies to lovers

Summary : They should have hated each other, and they did. But every comic has a beginning, and so did theirs, at least the beginning that led to horror freak Pete dating the most popular girl in school, and neither of them meant it as an April Fool's joke. There was really something like love between them.

info: Here's your request, dear. Thanks for waiting, and I hope you like it, enjoy reading, and see you next time :)

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

The moment he smelled that acrid acid-like perfume, everything in Pete's head hurt.

He got a headache just looking at her, this Barbie doll of a class representative who was also the most popular girl in the entire grade.

Her perfect smile was surrounded by perfectly applied pink or red lipstick. Her perfectly styled hair was never blown by the wind or had to be hidden under a cap.

The rings and bracelets that always clattered and crunched, distracting him from reading, and then there were those shoes with their slight heels, clicking with every step, driving Pete crazy.

He would have preferred to be impaled by Freddy Krueger, but unfortunately, he wasn't real, which is why the guy in the blue jacket had to live with her day in and day out.

What she had in arrogance, Pete had in tricks. “Nobody disturbs me when I'm reading comics!” he had announced in the club as he held the comic with a shoe print on it in front of his friends' faces.

It was the latest issue of Alien vs. Predator, and he wanted to start reading it during recess when a gust of wind and his inattention caused the comic to fly out of his hand and land right at the feet of this self-obsessed slut.

Pete jumped up and was about to pick it up when she lifted her leg with a perfect smile and pressed her white patent leather shoes straight down on the comic.

“Oops, sorry Pete, but I really didn't see it,” she said, and her group of friends laughed before the most influential and popular group of girls left the nerd and freak alone...but she had gone too far.

He could forgive anything, but not when it came to his comics.

His friends were with him, but Jerry had a point: “Comic books and revenge aside, you ruined her yearbook photo” the blond guy called out his friends when Pete wanted to try out a new fake blood mixture for a costume and had been running around with the bucket in front of him, not being careful, and had spilled it on her.

All the fake blood, which was sticky because of the syrup, made her look like a murder victim, like Carrie at the end of the movie.

Pete thought it was wonderful and had even encouraged her to take the photo, but her crying and cursing told a different story.

Jerry had a point, and Pete knew it, and she knew it too, because the feud between them was a bit ridiculous. If Pete had just been more careful, she wouldn't still be mad at him.

How do two such different people meet? Simple: dance practice for the charity ball for all the school classes.

When the teacher announced this, there was cursing, grumbling, cheering, and shouting throughout the classroom, and Bill, Josh, Pete, and Jerry looked at each other in disbelief with their mouths open.

They were all speechless; they had all planned to spend the weekend watching another movie marathon, working on their Halloween and convention costumes, and maybe copying a few nude scenes from B-movies — they certainly weren't going to touch the girls in their class.

Pete, who was still grumpy, said, “You can't do that, we have rights! Besides, we have better things to do than dance with these dolls!” Pete not only got extra homework, but also his prettiest arch-enemy as a partner, who gave him a smile that he would have loved to wipe off her face.

But he had to go, he had to hold her hand, and he did his best to step on her feet, but she skillfully dodged his attacks with her divine dance. “You seem tense, Pete, relax...try to transform into the Human Fly and fly away,” she murmured, and these words completely confused the dark-haired man.

She knows the human fly? was the first thing that crossed his mind as he gave her an uncertain look. Maybe it was something she read in a magazine or just a coincidence.

But he was proven wrong when she spent the entire evening making hints and allusions that initially annoyed him. How could she, of all girls, know something like that?

She was well-known and popular, not a nerd “You've seen all those movies?” he had to ask when he turned her around and she winked at him before coming closer and whispering, “You can come over and see for yourself,” before giving him a little push and walking away.

The dance was over and a completely red-faced Pete stood in the middle of the room, unable to believe that the girl he hated loved the same movies as him.

That's how you get two arch enemies to like each other. They hated each other, they met where it hurt, but after their first encounter, everything was different.

She liked being popular and he was a freak, she liked being pink, but her lipstick was the color of Pete's blood. He was socially clueless, but with the help of his girlfriend, they got into everything because of her charm.

They complemented each other on so many different levels, and time and time again he couldn't believe it, but when she took his hand and smiled at him, Pete knew she was real, that the kiss he gave her wasn't a dream.

That the horror movies they watched together were real and, above all, that he, a horror freak and nerd, had the hottest girlfriend in the whole town.

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

@hyperfixationcenter , @illytan , @the0nlystar , @just-a-sideblog524 , @popkornshrmp

[towasdandelion]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing well

Your smau is really addicting i keep reading them over and over again I’m OBSESSED

Could you do hotarubi and obscuary after finding out that reader has gotten really injured (not life threatening though) during a mission without them?

Take your time pls no pressure!🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hiii! I'm doing great hehe. And thank you for reading my silly work! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ Hmm for the scenario I went with a broken leg but now that I think about it... I hope it does count as 'really injured'. I have no way to know since I've never broken a bone in my life (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) Well, I hope you like this!

Hotarubi and Obscuary ghouls when you get injured during a mission without them

Subaru would be very worried about your but also a bit upset. He doesn't want you to hide anything from him. Apparently it doesn't matter he would probably do the same. He wouldn't feel any resentment towards the ghouls who took you on a mission, or so it seems. He's always poised and polite but deep down he thinks the ghouls failed miserably with keeping their inspector safe. He will keep it to himself though. He'd rather focus on taking care of you anyways. And he will do just that, making sure to do it with the utmost care.

Haku's dad mode just activates. Get ready for some scolding once he sees you. Why would you keep it from him when he cares about you so much? Why are you trying to act tough when he's right there to take care of you? Expect to be carried everywhere bridal style and don't even bother saying no, he will just ignore it. You can say the embarrassment is the price to pay for trying to hide your injury from him. Will definitely have a talk with the ghouls who went on the mission with you, trying to find out what exactly happened.

Zenji is too busy worrying to be upset you hid the injury from him. His precious girl got injured! He will focus on nursing you back to health, spending a lot more time with you than usual to make sure you're not doing anything reckless. He's basically at your service 24/7 now. If you're bored from having to sit more he will come up with plenty ways to keep you entertained. His personal favorite one is storytelling. He will actively engage you in it, and you two will create a lot of new tales for him to transfer onto paper later.

Ed was lurking around Darkwick in his bat form the day you were supposed to come back, eager to see you. That's when he caught glimpse of you struggling to walk, with the ghouls supporting you. He becomes uncharacteristically serious, immediately calling you out. You'd be better off not arguing with him. Well, usually you take care of him when he's being lazy and now it's time to return the favor. Will insist on moving you to his room for the time being "so he doesn't have to move his old body too much" but we all know it's just an excuse to have you close to him 24/7.

Rui is devastated he wasn't there when it happened so he could use his stigma to numb your pain. But not everything is lost! Once he starts taking care of you, make sure to complain about the pain so he can be your painkiller. (please it will make him very happy I promise) Also insists on moving you to Obscuary, but his reason is more believable. He can be more efficient with taking care of you and the rest that way. Will actually install a lock on your door in case Ed tries to visit you. He has everything under control! The perfect malewife.

Lyca's protective instincts kick in the moment Subaru apologized to him for not protecting you enough. He's nothing going to hold a grudge against his friend, but he wishes he could have been there. The fact that you tried to hide your injury from him isn't helping. He's looking out for every chance to prove to you how reliable he can be and this is the perfect one. He will do his best to take care of you, even carry you around if you wish. If someone accidentally bumps into you while walking you might want to hold him down or else he will start growling at the poor student..

[forsaken-headcanons]

Ok no you know what I'm going to elaborate on the Team Cupcakes MLP thing (Also changed Apple Sleep Experiment to Mafioso because his whole thing is sleep)

Timeline!

• C00lkidd learns the truth and starts having a crisis

• C00lkidd eventually snaps from the grief and starts putting together his Cupcakes outfit

• He couldn't begin to tell you if he considers the other Killers as his friends or enemies at this point, everything has been turned on its head. He gets transported back to the Killers' cabin and immediately starts to murder

• 1× is LMS and gets got because he was caught off guard. He gets serenaded with Ready To Die in his final moments

• The Specter enjoyed the show immensely and offered c00lkidd two options: Stay like this and keep playing the death game forever, so your friends and father will never leave you again, or forget the truth and return to blissful ignorance

• Something something illusion of free will, both normal c00lkidd and Cupcakes respawn with the others back in the cabin

• The kids' memories are erased, except for Cupcakes, but everyone else gets the privilege of remembering every detail of his rise to glory

• Bluudud learns the truth and also has a crisis, but manages to keep a somewhat level head

• Bluudud tries to figure things out on his own, gets a little too nosy while exploiting for the Specter's comfort

• The Specter decides to talk things out with Bluudud, manages after a long chat to convince the kid that he needs blood to keep the world outside Forsaken from collapsing ("But with all great things comes a great responsibility, that of Cloudsdale's being weather stability" [this is a big fat lie])

• Bluudud is not in a great emotional spot and becomes extremely paranoid of messing things up

• Starts sorting the blood from his kills by color and blood type in little vials, everyone is concerned

• Despite the other Killers' efforts, Cupcakes sees Bluudud spiraling and encourages him to snap, egging him on until Bluudud gets fed up and kills him. Cupcakes dies laughing

• Murder spree 2.0, 1× is LMS again, tries fighting back but doesn't last long

• Illusion of choice again, both versions respawn

• Rainbow and Cupcakes form a psychotic symbiotic relationship: Rainbow lets himself be used as ingredients as long as Cupcakes lets himself be used for blood (Cupcakes has multicolored blood for reasons no one can explain)

• Everyone freaks out, nobody wants the Creepypony kids around the normal ones, having seen Cupcakes' influence on Bluudud

• Mafioso goes so far as to not let himself sleep a wink so he doesn't have to take his eyes off them. "I'm a dream-based creature, I'll be fine"

• He was not, in fact, fine

• He eventually begged Azure for some sort of potion to help him stay awake. Azure refused of course and Mafioso had to steal it behind his back

• The lack of sleep and side effects from the potion that Azure could have warned him about had he chosen to listen take a toll on him and he starts getting extremely paranoid of the other Killers

• Next thing he realizes, his folks are slapping him awake, he has two swords in his stomach, and a black skull crushed in his hand (1× cannot catch a break [he just ran, he knew he wasn't winning this])

• Mafioso is presented with the same "choices" as the kids. He knows it's pointless but does it anyway

I don't actually know the story of Little Miss Rarity as well as the others, I know she has a Pinkie Pie doll that's contributed to her insanity but I don't remember what it's about, anyway I'm tired I'm going to bed

getting some real deja vu from this ask for some reason what the shite. if we happened to already answer this ask and this is actually a duplicate/accidental resend, someone let us know

ANYWAYS!! STILL GONNA COMMENT!! it's in the style of a live reaction so expect some sudden changes hsjdhksdh.

gang the c00lkidd one is real ok trust we're c00lkidd himself trust trust /silly (we say as we corrupt nature the spectre)

. suddenly we dislike the cupcakes skin /j howmcOULD yuo what the hell,., our babies... mafioso's there too ig... OH WAIT. WAI TNO. HONEY. DARLING. NO. HOLDING ALL OF THEM AWAY FROM YOU WHATHEKJHSFUCJ 💔💔 (freaking love this. every bit of this. btw. sdjkahs. leans on expensive car and promptly explodes)

[luvbytaerungz]

wrong address, right size | psh | part 3 🔞

pairing: ex sunghoon x ex reader

summary: Seven months. That's how long it's been since you broke up with Park Sunghoon - cold, clean, and full of silence. You told yourself it was for your peace. You didn't want to be someone he'd only make time for when he wasn't too busy building a future for the both of you. But what's a future worth when you're not part of the present?

Now you're single. Horny. Emotionally unwell. And after a wine-fueled group chat rant to your girls, you finally cave and order a dildo online.

Except you accidentally send it to your ex's condo.

Pagod. Basang-basa sa pawis. Mga katawan niyo, magkasugpong pa rin—foreheads pressed together as the final shudders of your third round faded into soft whimpers and deep breaths.

You were trembling, your legs jelly, body overstimulated, mind utterly blank. Sunghoon leaned in, brushing a kiss over your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips—soft, slow, careful.

“Baby…” he whispered, halos pabulong. “Okay ka lang?”

You nodded weakly, and kahit na wala kang boses para sumagot ng buo, nakita niya ‘yon sa mga mata mo.

“Halika,” he murmured, carefully lifting you bridal-style. “Let me take care of you now.”

⸻

Dinala ka niya sa bathroom ng condo niya—familiar yet foreign na rin. He turned on the shower, letting warm water fill the tub habang pinunasan muna niya ang pawis sa batok mo gamit ang towel.

“Hindi ka pwede matulog na ganyan. Malalagkit ka na nga, pagod pa,” he chuckled softly. His tone was different now—less cocky, more sincere.

He helped you into the warm water, carefully following you in, placing you between his legs so you could rest back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you like a shield, like a safehouse you forgot you used to know.

“Tara, lublob ka muna… alisin natin lahat ng sakit. Sa katawan. Sa puso.” His whisper was heavy, but there was a strange peace to it.

Habang nakalubog kayo, he took his time washing your hair gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back, and peppering your shoulders with quiet kisses. Walang libog, this time—just softness. Healing.

“Miss na miss kita, Y/N,” he said quietly, voice cracking. “Seven months kong pinaglalaban sarili ko na tama ‘yung desisyon mo. Pero wala, tangina, ikaw pa rin. Palagi.”

You turned your head slightly to face him. “You didn’t fight for me.”

“I know. I was stupid,” he whispered, his nose brushing against your temple. “Sobrang focused ako sa future… na nakalimutan kong kasama ka dun.”

Your chest tightened.

“I thought you were okay without me,” you said shakily. “I kept waiting. For something. Kahit sorry. Kahit simpleng message.”

“Sabi ko kasi sa sarili ko… kung mahal mo talaga ako, babalik ka. Pero ngayon, alam ko—ako dapat ang bumawi. Ako dapat ‘yung lumaban.” He placed a hand on your chest, over your heart. “Kahit late na. Kung may chance pa…”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, water dripping down both your faces.

“Sunghoon…” you whispered, closing your eyes. “I’m tired.”

“Then let me hold you, baby. Kahit ngayon lang.”

⸻

Pagkatapos niyong maligo, you let him towel you off gently—halos parang sacred ang bawat galaw niya. He disappeared for a moment then came back with his shirt—one of your favorites. Oversized, soft, worn. You wore it like second skin.

Pagkapasok niyo sa kwarto, he lifted the blanket and let you slip into bed first before joining you. Hinila ka niya agad sa dibdib niya, arms wrapping around your waist tight like he never wanted to let go again.

You curled up against him, forehead resting on his bare chest.

“Naalala mo ‘to?” he asked. “Tuwing finals week, ganito tayo matulog. Kasi mas relaxed ka pag hawak kita.”

You nodded, eyes stinging.

Silence fell between you—comfortable this time.

“Kung papayag ka,” he said softly, “I’ll prove myself again. Slowly. I won’t ask for you back agad. Pero gusto ko lang ng chance. To be better. For you.”

You didn’t speak for a long time.

Then finally:

“Prove it, Park Sunghoon.” You looked up at him, your hand resting over his heart. “Pero habang ginagawa mo ‘yan… pwede ba akong umuwi muna bukas?”

He chuckled, pulling you tighter. “Sige. Pero sa ngayon… dito ka muna. Stay.”

You gave him a small smile, tears now falling freely as you buried your face in his chest.

“For the record,” you whispered, “mas malaki ka nga kaysa dun sa dildo.”

He snorted. “Tangina. Oo na, panalo ako.”

And with that, you both laughed—finally, honestly—wrapped up in each other, tangled in sheets and old love, slowly, maybe foolishly, stitching yourselves back together.

©️luvbyterungz 2025

taglists: @pocketzlocket @sovlidago

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fan fics in which Louis has a chronic illness as requested in this ask. I was only able to find H/L fics for this rec, so there are no rare pairs on it. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers. You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

🔹i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) by thedeathchamber / @louehvolution

(E, 55k, angst) Harry thinks he has good reasons for avoiding relationships. Meeting Louis puts those reasons to the test.

🔹HL 80s NYC verse by superglass / @gaymoustache

(M, 51k, HIV) In the midst of the AIDS crisis, Harry meets Louis after coming home from a drag ball. 80s NYC au.

🔹Don't Let Go by bittersweetlou

(T, 32k, MCD) The one where Louis has Adolescent Alzheimer's and Harry doesn't want to let go.

🔹Hold me close, Keep me safe by Spigityspack

(G, 11k, ulcerative colitis) when he begins experiencing a flare and growing sicker and sicker, he has a difficult time talking with Harry, who just wants to take care of him and make him feel better.

🔹I Love None Better Than You by @sunflowerstyles

(E, 10k, cancer) Harry and Louis haven't had any alone time in three months since Louis had been admitted to the hospital. Harry is desperate to provide some privacy for the two of them and finally spend an uninterrupted evening with his boy at last.

🔹fight me breathless by sideofzemblanity

(M, 7k, asthma) Louis Tomlinson has no idea why he’s in a London hospital for asthma, but enter Harry Styles, his doctor, who he definitely doesn’t think is hot, and he’s left wondering if asthma is why he can’t seem to breathe properly with his doctor around.

🔹Sweven by @1diamondinthesun

(NR, 4k, Idiopathic Hypersomnia) "So this Harry,” Liam chuckled, reaching for the business card, “Harry Styles, witnessed you in a near nap state and gave you his card? And his personal number?”

🔹Silently Calling You Home by Spigityspack

(NR, 3k, established relationship) Harry is coming home from a trip and wants to take Louis out as a way to celebrate. Louis falls ill and feels awful for ruining Harry's plans.

🔹The lights are a little too bright by @sunflour28

(G, 2k, chronic dizziness) Louis' a little done with his situation. He's seen the same hospital room far too many times in his life. Maybe things will start looking up though- now that Harry's in the same waiting room as him.

🔹Weak by starryglow

(G, 1k, anemia) Louis had been feeling sick for weeks, but it wasn't a usual cold.

🔹Hold tight, you're slowly coming back to life by CoolCrying

(G, 1k, hurt/comfort) "Louis has these days sometimes when he's all pain, and when he's hurt, well, there's nothing Harry wouldn't do to make it better."

[adobe-outdesign]

Have you reviewed the Elderly color yet?

Elderly kind of felt inevitable as a colour, seeing as baby was already a thing for years. I'd say that its pretty justified too, seeing as it's not very similar to any other colours. It couldn't just be clothing either, seeing as the base colour has specific details to it like wrinkles.

However, despite the inevitability, a lot of users don't really like Elderly. I think it's in part due to the color palettes used—it's all very muted colors, and a lot of pets lack any sort of palette consistency or balancing. It also doesn't have inherent appeal to it (like baby, which is fundamentally cute).

In terms of execution, I think there are three things that make this colour work the best:

Clothes are fine, but also lean into animal-like attributes when it comes to aging instead of only human ones. See examples like the Hissi and Wocky below.

Clothes need to look age-appropriate, but they can still be decently trendy and fashionable. Alternatively, go for very "cute" outfits like oversized sweaters.

Base colours can be muted, but should still look appealing. A few wrinkles are fine, but try not to go too overboard so the base can be used for other things.

Keep the "male" and "female" counterparts equal both in concept and design. Both should look like they belong together.

I feel like pet styles would also really add something to this colour; just giving the pets unique anatomy and making them anthro (think like royal) would help things tremendously.

Elderly came out after customization, so there's no per-cusomization versions to compared.

Favorite Species:

Hissi: Elderly Hissi are by far the best elderly pets. The shed skin was already great as a concept (reptiles can have trouble shedding their skin properly as they age), but the way it forms a hat on the elderly boy? Fantastic. I also really like the outfits, which seem very age-appropriate but also look fashionable as well. Finally, the base colors are nice and not too wrinkled, so you can use them for other customizations as well.

Wocky: Converted Wockies are usually pretty weird looking, but the elderly ones are honestly pretty adorable. I like how the base colours are based on actual cats, and things like the messy fur capture the elderly look well without being too overwhelming. I also think the outfits are super cozy, and both the elderly girl and elderly boy versions feel equal to each other. Only minor quibble is that the female's hair curlers don't fit the palette and clip over the eyebrows in a weird way, but those can be removed so it's not that big of a deal.

Lenny: Following the trend set by the Hissi and Wocky, the elderly Lennies have a very pleasant set of base colors with realistic markings and palettes—and even better, they're both based on birds with long lifespans (pink cockatoo and albatross, birds which have been known to live to 70 or 80 years old). Also, the retirement ski/hiking outfits work surprisingly well on the bodies considering their unusual shape. Only minor quibble (outside of the base lacking head feathers, which I think wasn't possible to fix) is that it's weird that their beaks are wrinkled of all things.

Least Favorite Species:

Tonu: It's not that these look terrible, per say, it's more just that... like, why are they knights? Nothing about these reads as elderly. The base colours are also alarmingly zombie-esq with unpleasant palettes, and the swords just floating their is weird. On the plus side, the gold detailing looks nice and the outfits work well as crosspaints, so there's that at least.

[featherlight-touches]

Hello Kiwi can I get some ler!Yae to go please and thank you

P.S I'm surprised she isn't used as a ler more often especially with her tails that could easily be used to tickle someone ,teasy attitude,nails and basically built like a ler machine

Coming right up anon! This is actually a fic I uploaded in secret elsewhere (if anyone finds it congrats!) because it was mainly an experiment to try out a different writing style, which I wasn't a fan of, so I didn't upload it here. It was also my first NSFW which I was not proud of lmao, so I've re-written to my usual style and removed the NSFW stuff and added more tickles. I hope you enjoy! 💚

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Gorou’s mind was racing.

When he was informed that the traveller was back in Inazuma, he naturally joined the small gathering arranged for them to ask them about their many adventures. A fun occasion, until it suddenly wasn’t.

For Gorou, anyway.

It started to go downhill when there was brief mention of another friend the traveller had made from Sumeru, which brought up the subject of ears and tails. Tighnari was their name, Gorou believed, he admitted to himself that his mind started to go a little blank, but he remembered the traveller mentioning how well Tighnari kept their fur.

At first, Gorou thought of it as nothing more than a friendly suggestion, which the traveller seemed to think so as well. But of course, bringing his tail and ears into the light of topic, their other friends decided to cross boundaries.

His boundaries.

Itto, Shinobu, and even a couple of members from the Arataki clan, Thoma, maybe Heizou? He wasn’t sure, but they all started to grab his tail, testing its softness for him, and some wandering hands made their way to his ears which overwhelmed his senses completely.

He barely could tell which hand belonged to who at a certain point. But of course, when a certain Yae Miko had started to show her interest as well, that was when Gorou excused himself from the scene immediately.

This explained why Gorou now sat alone, away from everyone, tail curled around him into his lap, holding an expression of defeat and embarrassment. Not just because of his reaction to the situation, but because he also caused a scene at the traveller’s get together.

“How selfish of me,” he thought to himself, sighing. His teal blue eyes were lowered to look down at his tail, which he used a hand to idly tidy up a little, his fur having been messed up by all those curious and rough hands.

“My, my.”

Gorou yelped at the sudden voice that managed to sneak up on him, his tail fur standing on edge.

“Here you are. You scurried off in quite a hurry before, you didn’t even see the cake that the Kamisato house maid for all of us. How unfortunate.” Yae Miko stood beside the seat that Gorou sat on.

“How did she even get over here so fast…” Gorou’s ear twitched warily before he summoned the courage to respond. “I – I apologize. I wasn’t very hungry.”

Gorou knew she could sense his nervousness. She often feasted upon it, after all.

“Oh? Not hungry for cake? And here I thought our little puppy had such a sweet tooth.”

Little puppy.

The male’s fists clenched in his lap at those words. “Don’t – say that.”

“You don’t have a sweet tooth?”

“Not that! I do – I meant the…” Gorou felt himself getting worked up again and decided to drop it before it escalated further. There was no winning against Yae Miko, anyway.

“You didn’t like all that attention before, did you?” She asked, suddenly in the seat beside Gorou which startled him again.

“How does she keep doing that?” he thought, almost leaning away from her instinctively. “The attention? – I don’t know what…”

“Now, now, General. I know exactly how sensitive you are about your ears and tail. Your flustered expression and cute stuttering every time I mention them is a dead giveaway.” She held that teasing tone like she always did, and a small giggle left her lips. “All that attention on your tail and ears must have been overwhelming, hm?”

The truth in her words caused Gorou to sigh as he let his hand work its way through the fur on his tail, almost as if he tried wiping away the memory.

“It’s not like I can help it,” he muttered, almost a whisper. “I am a high-ranking general and I worked hard to get here. I’m not some – pet.” His brows furrowed at the word and left unsaid the words. “I just want some respect.”

“Oh, Gorou. If only you could see how beautiful you are.”

?!

“H-Huh?! Where did that come from?” Gorou stuttered, his ears twitching rapidly in flustered anxiety.

“You talk as if your ears and tail are simply novelty. Nothing more than a burden. Have we not been through this before? I distinctively remember advising you to embrace yourself for who you are.”

Who you are.  

“I – I know who I am!”

“Then tell me.”

“I am General Gorou of the Watatsumi Army!” he declared proudly with the utmost confidence, his fists balled to his chest.

“Mhm. Is that all?” She questioned with an unreadable smile, almost barely visible but he saw it clear as day.

“I – yes! That’s all that matters.”

The smile faded and Yae Miko sighed, her purple eyes piercing into his own. That cold, unreadable stare sending shivers up his spine.

“Why am I so nervous? She’s just looking at me … I can do this, just stand your ground, Gorou.”  

“It would seem that I have no choice but to convince you otherwise.” She stood up elegantly and held out her hand towards him. “If you would follow me, General. I’d like to take you away from all the noise.”

“But – What about the traveller and everyone else?”

“It won’t take long. If you’re cooperative, that is. Now come along.” Her patience had already been lost, and she grabbed onto Gorou’s wrist, yanking him up onto his feet and dragging him off.

“Wha- hey! Wait a second! Don’t I get a say in this? Let go!” Gorou cursed himself for not being able to break himself free from her unusually iron grip, desperately trying to not raise his voice to catch anyone’s attention to this embarrassing situation. His teal eyes dart back towards the group they leave behind, hoping someone will save him.

They don’t.

~*~

“Where are we going?” Gorou asked after a long walk. He gave up trying to break from her grip ten minutes ago, and that was around twenty minutes after they began walking in the first place.

“Just a little place where we have some peace and quiet.”

“So cryptic… I don’t know how I feel about this.” Gorou gulped and continued to follow in silence.

They were near the shrine, that much he could tell. Yae eventually stopped in what seemed like a quiet, secluded area. He wondered why they needed to come to this hidden, tranquil location but before he could ask, she finally released his wrist and pointed her finger to the ground below them.

“Don’t tell me she’s actually going to say sit-”

“Have a seat.”

“Oh.” Gorou felt relieved but didn’t voice it. “Uh. Alright?” he sat down as instructed, crossing his legs as he took a quick scan of the environment around them. It was pretty, surrounded by nice trees and a small lake nearby. He was genuinely surprised that the area didn’t have anyone else around.

“General. Do you know why you’re here now?” Yae asked in a tone that honestly baffled him, like he was supposed to figure out anything from the quiet walk and secluded area. If anything, he felt more confused than before.

“Should I? You didn’t really explain anything. You just sort of brought me here.”

She sighed. Again.

Gorou’s ear twitched. “This is all pretty weird… I’d better stay on my guard; in case she tries anything.”

She took a silent seat beside him on the grass, so graceful and terrifying at the same time, he really couldn’t fathom how she manged to accomplish both so well.

“I want you to embrace who you truly are, Gorou.”

“What do you- hey!” without warning, he was suddenly pulled from his spot on the grass into her lap. “Y-Yae?! What is the meaning of this?” his face hit a record speed flush of red at the sudden contact. The closeness, the back of his head resting against two cushions that he knew were not appropriate to use as such. This was wrong!

“Shh,” she cooed softly, a hand making its way into the soft fur of his ear. “Relax now, no one is here.”

He froze. She wouldn’t dare… would she?

Apparently, she would, as her sharp, manicured nails started to scratch delicately at the soft fur, eliciting an involuntary shiver that ran down his spine.

“S-Stop that!” he struggled, trying to wiggle his ears away from the intrusive contact. “Hehe, it tickles!”

She had the nerve to giggle at him. “But it feels good, yes?”

“No!”

He lied, because despite the intense ticklish feeling, he didn’t hate it. He had to restrain himself from leaning into the touch.

“Allow yourself to enjoy this, Gorou. You deserve the attention and shouldn’t have to hide that you crave this.”

“Her words are so conflicting. It tickles a lot, but it feels good… No! I can’t let myself succumb to her wicked ways! I need to – wait, she stopped?” he craned his neck to look up at her, the confusion on his face betraying him as he is greeted with a smug smile from the kitsune.

“What’s the matter? Do you miss the attention?”

Gorou stuttered, his blush only intensifying when she started to giggle at him once more. “This is inappropriate, Guuji Yae! I have a right mind to report you to the-”

“Hm?” Her voice rang above his, forcing a squeak from him when he felt her nails silence him by poking into his bare midriff. His ears perked up and his tail stood up straight at the sudden contact, eyes widened, and fear struck. “Report me? Well, we can’t have that, can we? After all, I’m trying to help you.”

He didn’t even need to look up to be able to see that devious smile and soon he felt those devilish nails skitter all over his belly.

“Ahahaha! Nohohot thehehere!” his forced laughter poured out of him.

“I thought dogs liked having their bellies rubbed?” she hummed idly as she let her fingers continue to knowingly tickle him, smiling at the way his tail wagged with betrayed enjoyment, his leg even started to kick out in a clumsy display.

“Yeahahah, rubbed! Yohou’re tickling MEHEHEHE!” he squealed when she started to circle his bellybutton with her nail. No matter how much he squirmed, left or right, there was no detaching her hand from his tummy. Forced to be subjected to this torture as if he didn’t suffer enough already.

“Ah, so you admit that you like having your belly rubbed. We’re finally getting somewhere,” with that pleased tone, her fingers all resumed tickling over his belly.

“Ahahaha, nohoho!” he gasped between laughter, unable to recall a time if he had ever laughed so hard in his life. How embarrassing.

“Why are yohou dohoing this?” He tried through his laughs, which seemed to slow down her ministrations. His ears flattened against his head in frustration. “I told you I’m no one’s pet and yet you’ve done nothing but treat me as one!”

“Not true. I’m simply helping you embrace yourself and accept that you deserve to revel in the attention and affection your unique features can bring, General. These ears, this tail – they are a part of you. They are a gift, a unique aspect of your identity that you should take pride in.”

“She’s never said anything like that to me before, this must be a trick, right? She’s too cunning to mean any of that… but what if?” Gorou thought to himself, trying to focus on her words and not the nails drawing little shapes on his quivering belly.

“And if this is what it takes to get you to accept that, then so be it. I’ll be the one that helps you,” her tone took another sinister turn, striking more fear into Gorou’s heart and before he knew it, Yae Miko’s form altered slightly, her pink eyes lighting up and with a flash of light, it revealed her many long tails.

“W-Whoa… so you do have ta- Huh?!” Gorou suddenly felt overwhelmed as her tails all grabbed a limb each, keeping the general secured. “W-What are you doing now?”

“I told you. I’m helping you.”

“No- wahait, WAHAHAIT!” Gorou’s pleas fell on deaf ears as he felt the tickly brushes of Yae Miko’s tail upon the skin of his belly, sending him into a mess of giggly laughter. “THAHAT TIHIHICKLES!”

“I’m aware,” she giggled again. “And don’t you fret, my little doggy General, we will continue this exercise until you finally accept yourself for who you are.”

Gorou whined through his laughter as he knew he was going to be in for long night.

[laurellala-comics]

HOORAY MIRACULOUS LADYBUG BUT ROCK STARS!

Ok thought dump time (sorry it's so long):

The story picks up with them in their early twenties. The band "Miraculous" has picked up a small cult following amongst the youths, they play at small local festivals and stuff but they've also started doing their own shows and traveling a little bit around France

Rose plays bass and sings, Alya plays lead guitar and sings, Juleka's on drums

Marinette is the only one that doesn't play an instrument- she wasn't originally part of the band, she was actually just friends with Rose and got invited to sit in on band practice and shyly inserted herself into the friend group by offering to help them with styling and their look and everything. She did costumes and ran the social media accounts.

Marinette does not sing "well" in the technical sense but she has a kind of awesome raspy scream singing style that she's able to pull off. She was joking around the first time she did it at practice, but someone in the band was like "omg wait that's really special and cool you should do it in a performance" and that person was... LUKA! Dun dun dunnnnn

Luka is Juleka's twin in this version (i know canon in mlb flops around on his age) and he and Juleka had originally started the band as a sibling duo, then Rose got involved when she and Juleka started dating, then they held actual tryouts to find a lead singer and wound up with Alya.

Marinette feels hugely untalented but Luka has such strong faith in her that she obliges and starts taking lead vocals, and this is when they really start picking up in popularity. She and Luka start dating around this time too (but it's kind of a thing where Luka is just in awe of her from a musical standpoint and Marinette likes him because he sees value in her. They probably should've just been friends but Oops too late)

Marinette is very much playing a character when she's out on stage, Ladybug, who is much more confident and cool! She's always been really shy and awkward but for the first time she feels accepted by her bandmates and by the audiences!

They have a small but dedicated fanbase and one of the most active members issss ADRIEN AGRESTE famed fashion influencer and lifestyle tik toker! He posts about his daily life in a sort of insidious form of advertising for the agreste brand (his dad is still a fashion designer in this au)

He has this very pure "boy next door" thing going on and he just posts his outfits (which happens to be agreste brand) and daily life as a model and he's also genuinely likeable and charming and so he's a bit of an internet celebrity

But although his posts aim to be very casual and encourage parasocial relationships, everything is sooo produced and has to pass by his father's marketing team and he is so micromanaged he cannot stand it!!! SO in his free time he kind of messes around online and he stumbled across someone's uploaded videos of concert footage of the band Miraculous... and he is hooked

He watches everything he can find and he wants to reach out to other fans and find out more about this band butttt his dad would never allow it :( His fancy son at a grungy alt band's concert? This would ruin the Agreste brand image!

And so he creates a FAKE ACCOUNT and inspired by the animal themed characters of Miraculous, he calls himself CHAT NOIR! and he comes up with his own dorky costume!

And though he hasn't made it to a real concert yet, he's in all of the fan spaces online, he even makes an official discord server and brings people together to chat about the band, and he comments really nice things on all the video uploads. Because he is LONELY.

And the fans are really nice and supportive of his little bandsona and it makes him feel really nice.

So this is all the background... here is the initiating event of where the au story "starts"

Luka leaves the band miraculous (and breaks up with Marinette).

They had mostly been playing around and having fun with things, with a very rock sound and aesthetic, but Luka wanted to get more experimental and more purposeful with their lyrics (more into the punk end of it)

He had started doing his own side project and Marinette had been kind of hesitant about it- basically she was nervous about doing anything that was a political statement because she didn't want to make anyone angry.

They fundamentally clashed, he believed that if you didn't make anyone angry you weren't saying anything worth saying, he saw music as an avenue for activism.

On the other hand, Marinette sees the band as something to entertain people and make them feel good as a distraction from crappy stuff, and also a security blanket/a way to make people like her. She just wants to keep the good thing going so she can feel accepted.

They couldn't see eachother's point of view, they break up and Luka starts doing his side project exclusively.

Marinette starts to worry that without Luka's musical guidance they'll flop, and that the other band members were only including her at Luka's insistence. Will they even want her around anymore? Are they even really her friends?

It's kind of embarrassing, but when she's feeling panicked it really helps to see the nice things that some of their fans say online. So SHE has a fake account that's not affiliated with herself (maybe it's called Tikki or like ladybugfan5000 or something silly) and she joins fan spaces so that she can talk to fans undercover and see what they really think of her (she is a little paranoid)

And while she's scrolling on her fake account sometimes she sees Adrien Agreste videos recommended to her. And maybe she watches some of them bc she has nothing better to do because he does have nice outfits and he's kind of cute or whatever and his voice is really calming so she ends up following him. But surely nothing will come of this (forshadowing).

Anyway. Back in Miraculous fandom spaces, Chat Noir is a big ladybug fan and so she keeps seeing him when she's looking for positive feedback. And she sees how sweet and welcoming he is to others in the fan space and so she starts interacting with him a little bit

Adrien can see that she is following his Adrien Agreste account and thinks this is really funny, and so he starts to poke fun at her as Chat Noir for liking Adrien Agreste. And she makes fun of him for liking Ladybug, which she sees as a private little joke because she is Ladybug

And it's like not a real crush it's very much a celebrity crush moment, but it's like a friendship bonding activity to talk about their celebrity crushes, and as they do they start to get to know eachother better and confide in eachother more... because Adrien is actually going through angst too

"what kind of angst" you ask? HAHAHA you fell for my TRAP! It's time for the asexualification beam of all my fav characters because if nobody will write my ace angst I will have to!!!

ACE ANGST: Adrien had been dating Kagami at his father's request, kind of as an image thing but also they were family friends and he was like I think I have a crush on her so yeah sure I'll date her!

ISSUE: Adrien does not actually want to makeout with her or touch her that much, like he doesn't MIND but it's not something he's really motivated by. Privately Kagami is kind of hurt that he doesn't seem interested in her and communicates this repeatedly but Adrien doesn't really know what to do about it... because he knows he cares about her but not in the way she wants

She breaks up with him and he breaks the news to his dad and Nathalie (who is part of the PR team that works on his videos)

And his dad is very focused on WHY they broke up and it's confusing at first but Adrien realizes that he's trying to figure out if Adrien is coming out as gay, which he absolutely would not be allowed to do publicly

And Adrien is like no no that's not it I like girls I just idk I feel like I'm not liking them in the right way and his dad is like ok great i don't care about this conversation anymore, as long as you aren't going to isolate any of our key demographics for agreste products by being gay i don't care!

And adrien is like :( oh. Ok. Good talk. And he starts thinking like "yeah no i definitely don't want to be kissing boys so I guess that's it and I'm straight totally and for sure and I'll never ruin my father's branding plans so I can stop worrying about this" *smash cut to him lying awake at night worrying about this*

So Basically the themes here are being liked vs being true to yourself. Adrien's Chat Noir sona is freeing for him as it allows him to express himself freely and represents him finding support in a community (oh gee what could this be a metaphor for Huh!). On the other hand, Ladybug is Marinette's desperate plea to be liked. There are some aspects that are freeing but ultimately she's being who she thinks people will want to see. She will have to learn about authenticity and that sometimes to support the ones you love you DO have to make a statement

It's also an exploration of some cool ace stuff I don't see explored often, namely that it is easier to have a crush on someone out of your reach like a fictional character or a celebrity because you won't have to actually ever deal with the possibility of them liking you back and the pressures of navigating a physical relationship.

Adrien starts to fall in love with Marinette on her secret account a little but he's also kinda thinking "would I still feel this way if I knew her in person? What if I only feel this way because she's far away and this is safe..." and then they have to decide if it's worth trying to meet up and seeing if their feelings go anywhere while ALSO navigating being honest about who they REALLY are. Oh mortifying ordeal of being known, the fickleness of emotion, etc

AND ALSOOOO i think examining how queer community can still be so important for hetero-romantic aces. YOU ARE PART OF THE COMMUNITY IF YOU WANT TO BE! Your experience is queer and atypical even if it may not be as obvious to others. I think het ace people are still subconsciously drawn to other queer people in the same way other queer folks experience, but then feel tentative about engaging because they worry it isn't for them. IT IS FOR YOU!!!! An ace relationship is SO punk, you are reconstructing the idea of what a romantic relationship needs and entails and you are stomping all over amatonormativity and it's so awesome I LOVE YOU!!!

Additionally, I think this is a love letter to online fandom spaces and the way that anonymity lets us be more honest with eachother... people are so unabashedly themselves online and that can lead to some really deep genuine relationships forming

My thing is I like this idea too much to tie it fully to Miraculous because I've drifted away from the fandom a lot over the past 4 years that I've spent cooking this up (i still love the concept of the show I'm just behind on episodes and plot), but I'm also not committed enough to execute this story in an original way with new characters. So it's just in this awkward limbo state. Um but yeah... check out my miraculous ladybug rockstar au tag in case i make more and check out the band show-ya for my inspo xoxo