#or terrifying glee?

[elliebell77]

he would not fucking say that

[randomwritingdrabbles]

Just started rewatching futari wa precure (I had a huuuuuge precure phase when I was a kid and I watched like all the seasons available then) and I was reminded of just how similar miraculous ladybug is to precure. Like legit it is just a magical girl anime but with normal superhero outfits pasted over the top and it got me thinking about how we were fucking robbed of magical girl Adrien.

Like they should have based the outfits on what the user deemed a superhero outfit cus Adrien would be rocking up in frills and thigh high heels while Marinette would rock up in gotham hero grunge.

Like you cannot tell me that lonely baby adrien wasn't an avid consumer of precure and sailor moon but in the same vain, Marinette would have definitely been a western superhero fan with emphasis on the batfam.

Like just imagine:

Adrien: "I run off the power of love and will protect the people of paris with the help of my fairy plagg!"

Marinette, who's favourite show is batman and the only magical girl show she's seen is magi madoka: "w h a t???"

-

Adrien, going through cutesy choreography that is 100% unessesary for his attack: "with the power of light I dispell you!"

Adrien: ✨️disintegrates a man✨️

Marinette: "..."

Marinette: "I am both terrified and amazed..."

(Adrien is upset he doesn't get a beam attack but he will make do by just making his cataclysm as extra as humanly possible)

-

Marinette summons her lucky charm by rummaging through her utility belt, also she also has a gun because she was having a red hood phase when she got the miraculous. It shoots whatever bullets she's feeling like because creation magic bullshit.

They're mostly rubber but whenever hawkmoth shows up they become metal and also explode... Gabriel Agreste is terrified of the both of them and refuses to attend fights in person ever again, after the time that Ladybug almost blew off his leg because he was temporarily blinded by cat noir's petticoat.

[loulovingho]

thinking about glee and sincerely could not imagine the outrage some of sue sylvester's jokes would cause on this website today. in fact, the entirety of glee would get long ass complaints on a weekly basis. the outrage. the insanity of it all.

those were truly simpler times.

[ace-and-ranty]

"“Congratulations, Galadriel,” Liesel said to me a little coldly—she had in fact bagged valedictorian—when she went by the table a few minutes later. But what she meant was fuck you."

Well, give it half an year, sweetheart >33

[cassierobinsons]

having an indescribable experience reading a book where it's clear the author used to be a tumblrina and not like in a saccharine rainbow rowell way. i mean that you can tell she was in the TRENCHES.

[danrifics]

man say what you want about glee but the shooting episode is fucking tense as hell, i literally cry every time even tho i know no one was actually in danger

[calsvoid]

the thing about seblaine is that it’s impossible to go back, yes, but they couldn’t bring themselves to try even if they wanted to. and boy do they want to

[softer-ua]

Villain getting handcuffed and put in the van

🦹🏼: OH THANK GOD YOUR FINALLY HERE!!! GET ME AWAY FROM THESE FREAKS!!!!

🐷: … you mean the top three hero’s??? You can’t call the hero’s of our nation freaks?!

🦹🏼: Look at them!!! The blonde clearly has rabies, he’s literally frothing at the mouth and has tried to bite me once already?!! The red and white haired freak in the boiler man suit hasn’t blinked once since he arrived, not once!!!

🦹🏼:And, and the green one?!! His smile hasn’t wavered, not even when he dislocated my knee with his steal shoes, not even when I managed to have a street lamp fall on him, not when the unblinking maintenance guy set my cap on fire and trapped the remains ice(chocking me!!), not when the blonde dog blew up a overhanging statue and almost killed me and he smiled even brighter!!!

🦹🏼: in fucking fact he’s only gotten happier?!!! He’s loving that he’s holding that rabid fucker back from biting me!!! He’s a psychopath!!! He’s a deranged menace who not only enjoys hurting me but gets satisfaction from being hit, frankly I don’t think his heavy breathing is from exertion, I think he’s imagining letting the blonde rip out my spleen rn

🐷: you’re the insane one here buddy, those three are shining pillars of our community and you should show some respect!

🦹🏼: this can’t be legal, it’s at minimum excessive force, and it feels cruel and unusual

[godblooded]

me just realizing alana borders on getting off when she uses will against hannibal in digestivo : i mean it’s not healthy but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it

[scribblingmuchlyrexan]

for obvious reasons (Lucifer Hazbin Hotel brainrot) i started watching Netflix's Lucifer show

there are some clips i find especially funny and want to share with friends, but i'm concerned looking them up on YouTube might expose me to spoilers.

so i'll just start noting them in this post lol and then look them up either when i finish the show or lose steam on it and don't care about spoilers

s2e7 Lucifer's "Apparently so" when talking to Boris the human lie detector with Dan

s2e10 ~5 mins in: Chloe Decker's "special day" of the first day of her dad's killer's case. but Lucifer, awkwardly repeating: " 'my dad's... killer.' ...Nietzsche."

s2e13 -42:10 "We can't go to the hospital. ~The hospital didn't help any of the other victims. The only thing that can save me is finding the antidote." Lucifer: "...Very well." HOT -31:35 Lucifer getting out of being captured so easily and then slugging people -27:59 "Well come on, who's in?!" 26:00 Lucifer's little smile in response to Linda's (therapist's) statement (I FORGOT HER NAME WHEN I FIRST MADE THIS NOTE AND FIRST WROTE "?Deborah?" QSJFKSKKS)

huh. something i have a mixed relationship with in regards to Hazbin's Lucifer is his INSANELY humanized writing. like i joked with some friends about Jeremy Jordan saying he himself (not Lucifer) has high blood pressure, and that, y'know what, Vivzie WOULD give angels blood pressure. disgustang and uncreative. something something this meme

[okay my internet's super slow rn so it won't upload but it's the Drake and Josh screenshot where Josh says with disgusted squinted eyes "Megan" but i instead put "Vivzie"]

and his too-humanness includes his psychology

but Lucifer in Netflix's version is also very human in his psychology. but it WORKS for me. maybe because it's used all the time as a way to say "this is an imperfect and selfish character, not just a sad wet towel of a character who you should feel bad for" (which how i've taken a lot of his angst) and it's not all essentially resolved in a couple songs lol. idk. but anyway, that struck me today: my fully enjoying and accepting the human-ness of Netflix's Lucifer, and my having mixed opinions leaning toward disdain and dislike on the human-ness of Vivzie's Lucifer

s2e17 -38:28 Lucifer playing with office chair

s3e2 -13:55 Lucifer's "copy THAT" to getting to heckle Dan more for Lucifer fans: -11:32 to 11:20 about chucklebunnies to Lucifans -2:09 "We all have itchy butts" to "it's what a woman told me right before i punched her in the face." (plus yay the subtitler cut up the punchline correctly :) )

s3e10 -29:30 or so: from before Lucifer's "Yes PLEASE" to Helena's "Eat me" to him stalking across the skating rink to get to Helena. SUCH HAZBIN LUCIFERCORE -4:30 Lopez: "Holy burrito bowl!"

s3e10 me: DANG IT WOULD'VE BEEN INTERESTING IF FINALLY LUCIFER'S ASSUMING EVERYTHING IS SUPERNATURAL LED TO HIM ACCIDENTALLY MURDERING SOMEONE. THE WRITERS HAD MARCUS STAY DEAD FOR JUST LONG ENOUGH AND LUCIFER LOOK BACK JUST ENOUGH TIMES TO MAKE ME REEEAAALLLY THINK THERE WAS A GOOD CHANCE THAT'S HOW IT WAS GOING TO GO. NICE

s3e13 -37:20 Lucifer throws tissue box at Cain and the latter entirely ignores it as it hits him in the chest

[sluttypatrickstar]

something so funny to me is that i wrote my dissertation on horror movies but i watched a youtuber recapping terrifier just before bedtime and now i am practically paralysed with fear

[milkbobatyun]

the dangers of a slipper

pairing: jingyuan x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crack

summary: slippers are a dangerous weapon, even more so when you're the one holding it

word count: 704

a/n: wrote this cus i was inspired by that one meme of the mom scolding the son and the father intervening, but both end up being scolded.

he should’ve known that he was going to be in trouble, the moment he let yanqing run off and go fight in such a dangerous duel. word travelled fast in the xianzhou, so it was no surprise that the moment yanqing and the general stepped into the house, they were in danger.

“yan. qing.” your stern voice calls from the top of the stairs. a shiver of fear runs down the boy’s spine at your tone. sure, he was the strongest swordsman of all of xianzhou, but even so, he was terrified of his mother figure.

hanging his head guiltily, yanqing steps forwards, not daring to make eye contact with you.

from the side, jingyuan watches yanqing get scolded by you, his eyes are filled with mirth and amusement as he relishes in the drama. yanqing, kneeling obediently at your feet, head bowed in shame, shoots pleading looks at jingyuan.

finally, jingyuan decides to step in, trying to save his trusted little aide from your fearful wrath. with a sigh and subtle shake of his head, jingyuan steps into the firing line your line of sight.

“now now love,” he began, voice smooth, though his hands were clammy with fear. “yanqing is quite capable. after all, his master is yours truly.” he boasted, puffing his chest out in confidence.

unfortunately for him, he doesn’t win the fight. instead, he finds himself a victim of the deadly slipper, a swift but light bop to his head sening him dropping to his knees, mirroring yanqing’s posture of submission. his joy has been knocked off into one of sheepish submission.

anyone who sees such a scene would find it hilarious. the most powerful swordsman and the dozing general of xianzhou, both quiet and docile as they listen to your scolding. the proud, young swordsman and jingyuan, fearless dozing general, forced into reflection under your watchful gaze and the threat of the merciless slipper.

jingyuan, who finds the courage to lift up his head, assuring you that it wasn’t a big deal. his only response is another ruthless bonk on the head from your slipper. silenced and cowed, he lowers his head again, quietly reflecting on his actions. to yanqing, jingyuan can only offer a meek smile, as his hand rubs the tender spot where your slipper had made its mark.

to add salt to his wounds, even the general’s ever-loyal companion had betrayed his trust. when jingyuan spots his loyal companion, mimi, pass by, he shoots her a pleading look, hoping that she would bravely put herself between her owner and the threatening lady looming over them.

to his hurt and disbelief, mimi spares him a single glance of disinterest, before turn her tail and plopping down beside your feet with a huff of disapproval, even going as far as shooting him a condescending glare. jingyuan’s shoulders slump, the fight fleeing his posture.

how heartwrenching. 

“mimi,” jingyuan groaned in exasperation. “what have i ever done to wrong you? did your mother give you more treats behind my back again?”

as though to mock him, mimi rubs lovingly against your leg, glee sparkling in her mischievous eyes. the large, white lion lets out a yawn, snuggling closer, as though saying, “you might’ve raised me, but boss lady here is better than you.”

letting out a dramatic gasp, jingyuan feigns a collapse. unfortunately for him, it doesn’t give him extra sympathy points. instead, he receives another repremanding whack from the slipper.

yanqing spares a single side-eye at his general, pity and suppressed amusement dancing across his face. it seemed that even the general was powerless in the face of big boss. with a pout, jingyuan sat back onto his knees, the duo casting looks of mutual pity at each other.

‘boss lady is scary,’ they telepathically communicated, determination etched on their faces. ‘next time, let’s not get caught.’

thwack. thwack.

“i know what the two of you are thinking.” you warned, slipper pointed at their faces. “don’t you dare, i’ll have mimi watch you and keep you out of trouble.”

tomorrow morning, the duo would have to explain why they have matching bumps on their head.

how embarrassing for them. well, maybe they should’ve thought twice before being stupid.

footnotes:

1. the image i was talking about:

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[ruleofheart]

growing pains — ellie williams

ellie williams x f reader

7k

fluff, angst, smut >O<

ellie if nothing bad happened to her ever, childhood friends to acquaintances(?) to lovers, longing, joel is involved, ellie is a DWEEB! but so are you, car sex, classic misunderstandings

to the lovely folks that asked to be tagged, i hope this meets your expectations… i am terrified of failing you: @macaroni676 @d3sperationn @g3latin

beta read by @heartofrhea my best friend my apologies for being cringelord

The universe can be so cruel. 

You sit at the edge of the curb, curling your legs to yourself to feel less vulnerable. Your phone rolls in your hand, tears of frustration prickling at your eyes. You probably should’ve known better. Well— you do know better. That sinking, intuitive feeling had been swirling in the center of your stomach all night, but you had let your desperation and loneliness take ahold of you. 

You had agreed to go out with some friends and some friends of friends; people you didn’t know jackshit about, but hung out with anyway. You had hoped you didn’t reek of seclusion too bad, feeling like a wounded animal in a crowd of predators. 

But your friends and their friends didn’t really care. They had pulled away from you in the club, losing you to flashing lights and crowded bodies. You searched up and down, called their names in the dingy bathrooms, and even asked the bartender. No dice; you were here to party alone. Now what was the point of even coming along?

Silly.

You initially opted to order an Uber to just get the fuck off the street already, but hey— it’s a Friday night and finals are over. The prices listed cost more than six different coffee runs, and there’s no way you’d be giving those up. 

It’s how you end up sitting on the curb and fervently wiping your tears away, cringing when you remember your hands had been touching all the club door handles and god knows what else. You feel dirty, forgotten. 

You unlock your phone and dim the brightness— the stupid thing almost all out of battery— and turn to what seems to be a last resort, an option that you’ve buried away at the back of your mind for years now.

Pressing your phone to your ear, you can’t help but sigh as the line rings repeatedly, almost positive that you’re completely out of luck. 

It falls silent for a second before there’s faint rustling on the other side, and a voice so familiar, so painful to hear, questions you softly. 

“Ellie,” you say breathlessly; from fatigue or relief, you’re not sure anymore. “Can you come get me?” 

Becoming friends with Ellie Williams was almost too easy. 

That’s just how she is as a person. So easy to be around; her voice and twinkling laugh showing no threat. 

It began with Mrs. Sullivan’s freshman class seating chart; a table of four with you, Ellie, and two other boys who were too preoccupied with copying off each other’s notes half the time for you to even remember their names. You mostly kept to yourself as a weird adolescent, the onslaught of teenage hormones and emotions forcing you into your own little world. 

Ellie, on the other hand, was different. She had noticed the front page cover of Savage Starlight slipped into the front sleeve of your binder, the edges frayed and jagged as if you had actually ripped it off. She was almost offended at the sight of such a careless pull, but found the emotion wavering once she realized you read the comics just like her. 

“Hey! No way!” she had exclaimed with a growing smile, her eyes lit up. She had half a mind to just reach over and take your binder, fingers skimming over the glossy cover. She stopped herself mid-way, mind racing before she asked with just as much glee, “Can I see? I don’t think I’ve been able to get ahold of that edition yet.” 

Your short-lived conversations about Savage Starlight began to transform into lunchroom giggle sessions and bike rides on the way home. She was so easy to fall into; it was almost like she had a part of herself that was reserved just for you, eager for your arrival.

The thing about your dynamic was that it was so intricately woven over time, each thread of yourself intertwining with her own as you came to know each other better. Unabashed adoration and excitement with every laugh, with every moment of eye contact across the classroom and dinner table at home: a twinkle of unwavering youth and closeness.

And the thing was, when it came to you, Ellie was not prideful at all. She would openly admit any given moment that there had to be a hole in her heart that was in the shape of you. The two of you fit so nicely in each other’s lives, slipping into a familiar rhythm that almost seemed karmic, even at such a young age. While you were surrounded by other girls your age navigating their own pent up emotions and typical coming-of-age realizations, turning against each other and whispering dirty secrets, Ellie only seemed to cling onto you— hanging onto your every word with sincerity and trust.

It didn’t take long before Ellie began to invite you over to sleepovers, which was new territory for both her and Joel. He was already a little awkward as-is, navigating life with a teenage girl who had the same foul mouth and temperament as he.

So when you came around, greeting him with little smiles and kind language, he couldn’t help but feel his heart sway in relief, happy that Ellie has someone like you in her life. 

You’d tumble off your bikes, leaving them strewn across the front yard, crushing the grass he labored so hard over. But he didn’t mind, relieved to see the two of you arrive in one piece, losing yourself in video game releases and comic book pages as you both sat in her bedroom. 

Joel became a sort of fly on the wall for you two, ever-present as you were fairly comfortable in their home. Tuning the both of you in and out, listening closely for anything that may alarm him (which, never happened). Sitting across the both of you at the dinner table, serving up a quick and easy bowl of Hamburger Helper to you two. He’d glance at the two of you from under his eyelashes, watching how either you or Ellie would lean into each other as you splayed out homework sheets on the table, muttering to each other in curiosity. The two of you may have been better off sharing a single chair, he’d think to himself in amusement. 

Again, your presence in Ellie’s life and in his home never worried him. It became routine for him as well, watching the two of you bike up the block together almost every day after school. 

One hot summer afternoon, he stood on the porch, prying off the entrance screen door in an attempt to replace it, the critters from the greenbelt nearby winning at their efforts to nibble away at the material. 

From afar, he could hear the growing sound of your chattering, your bike chains clicking repeatedly as you breezed down the sidewalk. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as you two fought amicably, reaching out to each other in a playful attempt to push the other off their bike. He chuckled to himself and turned his gaze back to the screen door, fingers prying at the edges. 

Behind him, Ellie reached a little too far to the side, fingers brushing against your arm before she toppled over sideways off her bike. She collapsed with a laugh-yelp, swearing at you in a way that made you burst out laughing, your shoes dragging across the concrete to stop your bike. 

You hopped off your seat, carelessly letting it fall to the side as you approached Ellie, laughing at her as she pushed herself off the ground. 

“You idiot,” you breathed out in between laughs, nearly folding in on yourself as the incident repeated in your mind. 

“Dude!” she scolded lightheartedly, trying to feign annoyance, and of course failing. She stuck out her arm to show you a deep scrape right above her elbow. “This shit burns.” 

You caught your breath and stepped closer, eyeing the scrape. It was rather gnarly, and you inwardly winced at yourself knowing it was probably going to scab horribly.

“Damn,” you muttered to yourself, holding her arm and twisting it to get a better look. Joel eyed the way you two interacted, pulling away from his task as he glimpsed the bloody splotch on Ellie’s elbow. 

From where he was, he couldn’t exactly make out the words that you two exchanged, your voices lowered significantly. From the look of it, you were offering an apology. He didn’t catch the way you smiled up at her apologetically, but he was positive that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him when you leaned in and placed a harmless, healing kiss onto her arm, right above the scrape.

It was, in reality, lighthearted and childish. A testament to your playfulness, your eagerness to please Ellie’s heart. 

And although Ellie didn’t realize it, there was a flicker of emotion that crossed her face. A change in her eyes; in the way that she looked at you. It flew over your head, too; busy smiling up at her, pulling her closer with the strength of the sun’s gravity. 

But Joel noticed. He caught this sudden change, this glimmer on Ellie’s face. He felt the complexities of youth and new emotion washing over him again, a short chuckle leaving his lips as he turned away, focusing back on fixing the screen door. 

Later that night, he pulled Ellie aside. 

“Hey, kid. I’m gonna need you to keep the door open when she’s around, alright?”

“What?” Ellie asked, utterly oblivious. A look of distaste flittered across her features. 

He was trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, knowing all too well that if he pushed too hard or looked too stern, Ellie would just defy him out of her own stubborn nature. He folded some blankets over the couch, eyes avoiding hers. “Just keep it open, Ellie.” 

She groaned in annoyance and threw her head back, hands falling to her sides. She looked truly exasperated, confused with this sudden change in house rules. 

That night, as the door remained cracked open, Joel walked by Ellie’s bedroom to sort some towels in the hallway closet. His ears picked up her frustrated tone; “…wants me to leave the door open now. Never heard of a rule as stupid as that, but whatever.” 

You giggled calmly, then fell silent for a second. “It’s okay. My mom has that rule too, for my brother and his girlfriend.” 

And he could almost hear the way Ellie’s face scrunched up, a confused groan escaping her again. She failed to reply, and the topic at hand was dropped as soon as you leaned over to her and showed her a page from a new comic, rambling on about how the plot hole in this series was diabolical. 

He silently walked away, mind wandering as he tried to think about how to approach this blooming situation, a flicker of both hope and protection illuminating in his chest. 

It was junior year of high school when the foundation of your friendship began to split, allowing something else to slip into it. Something sneaky, deceitful, something that constantly rendered you speechless and warm. 

You no longer rode your bikes or shared comic books; you were much too old for that now! Ellie had just gotten her license, a little too eager to drive Joel’s old beat up truck around with you in the passenger seat. And, of course, the both of you felt like true teenagers when you finally got phones.

You sat on Ellie’s bed, your knees pulled to your chest as you scrolled through your timeline. You giggled at random collages of pictures and videos, occasionally showing your screen to Ellie in hopes that she would laugh with you. 

She sat on the other end of the bed, a rolled joint held delicately in her fingers. Joel wasn’t home, and her bedroom door was closed. The walls of her bedroom trapped the both of you with the smell of it, but you were slowly learning to not mind it as much. 

When you first received a phone, you found yourself diving into social media, trying to keep up with this sudden boom of a new language, new jokes, new form of communication. Ellie, on the other hand, never touched her phone. If she was using it, it was probably because she was texting you. She refused to engage with any social media at all, meaning you had to sit and explain new jokes and trends to her. Sometimes, she’d try her hand at new lingo or an ongoing joke, but failed so miserably each time that you’d roll over her bedsheets in laughter. 

She pressed the joint to her lips, eyes lazy as she looked at you with longing. The brightness from your screen illuminated your face, emphasizing every beauty mark and freckle. 

“Hey,” she started, voice low. “C’mere.” 

You looked up at her in curiosity, putting your phone down. Your eyes stayed trained on her as you scooted closer, the sides of your legs pressing against hers. 

She wasn’t sure if it was the smoke or the way that you peered up at her that made the center of her body feel warm. She tilted her head away from you as she exhaled, the smoke clouding the space between you two; your heart thundered in your chest. 

“Almost done,” she promised, voice only a little raspy. “Missed you; that thing is hoarding all your attention.” The corners of her mouth twitched. 

“Is not!” you defended, shoving her shoulder with your own. “I’m right here.” 

“Yeah,” she began, her hand coming up to tap at your head playfully. “But you’re not here. Let’s do something; been wanting to play a few rounds of that old zombie game.”

It was how you end up pressed into each other’s sides, hollering and giggling at the tiny TV screen on her bedroom dresser. You played erratically, your fingers relying on nonsensical button smashing to survive. Ellie had to constantly revive you every five minutes, but never mentioned it. 

She missed the way you squealed in anticipation with every new round that started, your eyes wide as you spoke with a constant smile. And, maybe it was from her high, but she was a little too intent in the way that she watched you, her mind feeling far away as she memorized every crevice of your face from the side. 

“Ellie!” you scolded, bringing her out of her daze. “No way you already died, the round just started!” 

She turned her attention back to the screen, scoffing as her player screen was black and white, her character eye-level with the ground. 

“Damn,” she muttered, surprised that she let herself slack off for so long. Too lost in your side profile, the dip of your lips, the way your lashes fluttered in surprise when a zombie attacked you in-game. 

Your character raced towards her, shooting around sloppily before you pressed the buttons to revive her. Her hand found itself on the top of your thigh, right above your knee. Perhaps it was the fogginess of her mind, or a newfound boldness that spurts through her; but she squeezed at your leg, her eyes stuck on the screen. “Thanks,” she says a little too nonchalantly, like that was completely normal. 

You swallowed thickly, your own movements faltering. There was a red ring forming around your player screen, indicating that you were being ruthlessly attacked. 

She snickered, her voice playful. “Focus.” 

The two of you kept on, your mind instead slipping up and focusing a little too hard on the way she touched you. 

It was senior year when that particular, sneaky something begins to widen the cracks in your relationship. A feeling that blurred your vision, blurred your mind. A feeling that made it impossible to correctly decipher whatever it was that Ellie was going through, and the two of you began to fall apart. 

It mostly started when Ellie got a job at a skate shop. For the most part, it was relaxed, her days consisting of seeing the same people come and go for wheels and decks. But it meant that she had less time to spend with you. 

Initially, she would use every single day off to see you. To invite you over or to laze around on your fluffy duvet, listening to you ramble about your nervousness as graduation was approaching. She would take you out, spoil you rotten with the excitement of her new paychecks, saying fuck all to saving any money. 

And in reality, you didn’t care about the way she spoiled you; granted, it was nice and certainly made your heart beat a certain way, but you mostly valued that she made the effort to see you still. Exchanging silent words and looks across the classroom was no longer sufficing your yearning heart. 

Months passed and Ellie started to become a little bit more focused on balancing school and work; she was set on saving as college approaches, and you figured that the prospect of growing up had changed her. She was set on a college, set on astrophysics, set on buying Joel some land and maybe, hopefully, spoiling you some more in a few years down the line…

But she was maybe a little too caught up in it. She saw you less and less, accidentally channeling her friendly energy to her coworkers. And while you knew there was nothing wrong with that, you couldn’t help the bitter taste that rested on your tongue when she constantly brought up the names of others that you’d heard of countless times. A part of you wanted to turn to her, ask her so pathetically, why can’t you do the same with me?

You started to really feel like you were losing her when you finally got the chance to sit in her room again, the both of you babbling about what you think college will look like. At first, the comfort of her poster-covered walls and space trinkets settled your restless heart, and you had felt at home with her again. 

It wasn’t until she slipped away to use the restroom, leaving her phone on her bed. The screen illuminated as it buzzed once, twice— three times. You should’ve left it alone, thinking maybe it was Joel warning her he’d be late from work. But you leaned over anyway, reading over the text on the screen.

For one, it was a coworker. You recognized the name on the notification; and for some reason, when you realized it was from the only other girl at her workplace, a horrible feeling nestled into your stomach. 

And then you couldn’t help the minor feeling of betrayal as you realized they had been messaging each other on a social media platform; one of the many things Ellie swore up and down that she’d stay away from. 

You didn’t even follow her on there. She never told you. 

It’s silly, you thought. Ellie can do whatever she pleased. But this new turn of events, this tiny thing that was still so out of character; the foundation between you two felt almost completely severed. 

Weeks passed from that day and you them found yourself pulling away. The both of you were accepted into the same college, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel excited. Ellie begged you to fill out your housing papers on time so that the two of you could be roommates, but you purposefully procrastinated. You weren’t sure you could handle such close proximity with her anymore. 

It was with this that the gap between the both of you widened. She didn’t drive you home anymore; it was time to put your own license to use. You two no longer exchanged knowing looks across the room, and you sure as hell didn’t share dinner with Joel anymore, either. You started to forget the exact layout of her bedroom. 

Graduation came and went; you spent it in solitude, not really counting the presence of your family members. Ellie did race up to you and gave you a bone crushing hug, nose burying into your hair, but you were so caught up in it all that you didn’t reciprocate it. 

It was another one of those minor things that widened the gap, made her step away from you both physically and emotionally. 

Even when Joel offhandedly mentioned that he’d be okay with helping you move into your dorm, Ellie made up some excuse on the fly; saying your brother had it covered. She hadn’t even asked you.

So, just like that, summer passed in a blink. You spent your days curled up in your bed, wallowing. Ellie spent it trying to distract herself, losing herself in the presence of coworkers-turned-close-friends. You shamefully stalked her social media, tears pricking at your eyes as she posted places and things that seem so fun, so far away. Places and things that you would’ve liked. 

What hurt more was the constant questioning from your family. Where’s Ellie? What’s she up to?

Hell if you knew. You’d been relying on her story highlights for snippets of her life, and even then they were still so vague. Scenery, music, her guitar. Someone else’s hands holding a deck of cards, videos with incessant giggling in the background. God, you were almost sickly with both wanting and loneliness. 

And, just like that, it was freshman year again. This time, there was no seating chart. No binder for you to slip comic book covers into. No comfort of hopping on your bike and riding home with the only person that matters at your side. 

You were in some sort of emotional purgatory. Your mind blank as you walked around campus, as you stared at your laptop screen in the dead of night, body aching as you slumped over and completed your coursework. The excitement and late nights that you and Ellie had planned were nowhere to be found. 

On the other hand, Ellie busied herself so much, she found that she almost forgot you. Almost. 

Burying herself into her homework, mind trying its hardest to wrap around these new concepts. Partying, though she wasn’t not really there. Smoking some, drinking some. It all still felt lonely. 

She was enjoying this new group of friends, but they didn’t amount to the certain someone that still had their shape, their initials carved into the center of her heart. It was almost unbearable to exist without you; the two of you blending into each other so well, she still found herself saying things the way you did— the intonation, the little lingo, the mannerisms. Your existence was embedded into her own, folding over into her psyche so compact-tight, she knew she could never escape you. 

Ellie assumed that now, at this point, it was about carrying you in her soul even though you were no longer around. The beauty of this life; she’d lost you, but not entirely. Your personality reflecting in her own no matter what, no matter how hard she tried. Her existence was a testament to your own— someone’s been here. Someone’s loved me. 

Weeks passed. Months passed. The both of you constantly shuffling across the same campus, yet never running into each other. Your text messages now buried underneath more recent threads, your shared playlist long forgotten and neglected. 

Winter break hit and the loneliness bit just as much as the cold. When Ellie returned home, she noticed her old bike in the garage, propped up against storage bins, the tires flat. When you returned home, you came back to photos of the both of you, pinned to your wall. Your breath stuttered in your throat as you took them down, throwing them into a box in your closet. 

At the same time, yet separately, the both of you traversed new grounds, and odd fucked up forms of grief. Being in your own space yet running into things that reminded you of someone that you wanted the most. And it wasn’t not like they were gone; yet the both of you let go, deciding that somehow, it was for the better. 

The cycle repeated as the seasons changed. Instead of actually moving on, the both of you just somehow got better at repressing your emotions and acting like nothing happened. Occasionally reflecting on your friendship in a daydream, and then reminding yourself that somehow, it just wasn’t meant to be. It was time to move on— she was never yours. 

It’s summer now, the end of junior year. Ellie’s at her friend’s place, sipping on a poorly made drink as they play card games and tune into a new season of a trending series. She’s cross-legged on the floor, smiling to herself as her friends talk over each other, slamming the cards down on the coffee table and trying to warp the rules in their own favor. It’s fun, and it’s easy to sit back and watch everything unfold. 

She feels her phone in her back pocket vibrating; assuming it’s Joel just checking up on her, she gets up and excuses herself, slipping out the back porch door. 

When she reaches for her phone, her heart nearly stops beating altogether. In fact, she’s sure it does, as her stomach suddenly twists in confusion and pain, a small cough leaving her lips as she tries to collect herself. Your name shines on her screen as you call, and she’s so sure she’s hallucinating (the hell was in that drink?) until she swallows her surprise and answers. 

And there you are. Breathless, exhausted. Immediately, she knows. Despite it being so long, despite the fact that she’s not entirely sure she knows you anymore, she still recognizes the tone in your voice, recognizes that you needed her. 

“Where are you?” she blurts before you can finish your sentence, her body automatically pacing around. “Send me the address.” 

You’re apologetic, sounding defeated on the other side. You tell her over and over again, I’m sorry.

There’s weight behind the way you say it, like you’re apologizing for something more. Like you’re counting all those times you shut her out, the times you let her slip through your fingers. It’s weak and shaky, but Ellie doesn’t bring it up. She’s too busy slipping on her shoes, keys dangling from her fingers as she mouths to her friends that she’ll see them later. 

She stays with you on the phone the entire time she drives over to get you. She asks, over and over again, if you’re okay and in a safe area, and your heart twists with guilt and shame. You stay planted on the edge of the curb, looking like a wilted flower.

Ellie feels her heart drop to her stomach as she approaches the street that you sit on, her headlights illuminating your pathetic figure. She rolls down the window and pulls over, calling out to you. 

Your eyes are low, the shame blatantly evident on your face. Ellie’s not sure how this will unfold; this isn’t exactly the way she dreamed the two of you would reunite. But that look on your face— Ellie knows it well enough. You’re both 15 again, and you’re trying to hide within your own body somehow. She sees the embarrassment, the bitter feeling that sits at the center of your chest. 

You approach her car and observe at her through the window, eyes avoiding her own. You study her form, how much she’s grown. She’s got a new haircut; it’s shorter— gayer. You can almost imagine yourself laughing at her, can almost imagine twirling the short pieces between your fingers. A patch of black ink catches your eye just then, your gaze landing on her forearm. Since when did she get a tattoo? 

She unlocks the door, silently beckoning you in. You slump into the passenger seat, completely defeated, and she reads your body language well enough to know not to pry at the situation. 

She shifts the car into drive but realizes that she doesn’t even know where you live anymore. The car sits there, idle as she tries to figure out what to ask you and how, then you mutter the directions to your apartment, reading her confusion just as well. 

The sound of Ellie’s music is quiet, practically just a gentle hum as the two of you sit, rigid as you keep your gazes locked on the road ahead. You don’t intend to explain yourself or have some sort of emotional come-to-jesus moment with Ellie, figuring that this situation alone is already stressful enough. 

But, she clears her throat and opens her mouth to speak, eyes still locked on the street signs. “You see the trailer for the new Savage Starlight adaptation?” 

You give her an awkward chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, nearly whispering. “Looked like trash, honestly.”

Ellie laughs at that. Laughs. And god, it’s not the kind of laugh that kills her, but it’s a solid one; an honest one. It sounds so good as it erupts from her chest, the sound of it pouring into your ears and over your heart. Christ. 

Your eyebrow twitches and you have to turn your head to look out the window— you can’t let her see the look on your face. You’re sure your eyes are wide and pooling with some sort of desperation. 

And, of course, Ellie catches it. But she just cares too much about you, so she lets all these little thing slip by to keep you comfortable, to keep you with her for even just a second longer. 

The conversation stays trained on little comments, acknowledging new video game releases and comic book trailers as if the both of you are in high school again, caught up in your nerdy obsessions. The air is thick and steady; the both of you dancing around this thinly-veiled attempt to be normal. The smallest things, such as the sound of her clearing her throat, or her hand coming up to scratch at her cheek, make your skin crawl with anticipation. 

You brace yourself for the ball to drop, holding it so tight to your chest, you’re almost suffocating. 

And while there’s no way you’ll drop this act, desperately clutching onto this feeling of faux normalcy, you know Ellie will. She’s much too blunt and forward focused to let you both sit in this awkward, paper-doll like scenario; steadily crafting your sentences, training your eyes to avoid her. 

And, god— it’s almost too easy to let your body relax, to slip back into your old comfortable patterns with Ellie right next to you. Because she’s never been prideful, and never will be, with the way she smiles to herself and breathes: “I missed you. It’s been… really long,” she says the last part with a bittersweet chuckle. “Too long.” 

Your chest caves. Stupidly, eagerly, almost like it wanted to, this whole time. Your body feels prickly and warm, but you school your face to remain somewhat neutral. 

“Yeah,” you offer dryly. “I’m kind of surprised, actually.” 

At that, Ellie tilts her head, fingers fluttering around the steering wheel. “How come?” 

“That, like, you even showed up. And you’re actually being nice and taking me home. I figured you kinda hated my guts towards the end.”

Ellie’s body has a physical reaction to that, and she taps on the brakes by accident. Not hard enough to send the both of you flying forward, but just enough of a push. You whip your head towards her, watching the way she furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head. 

“Sorry. Not trying to be defensive, but why…” She swallows thickly. “Why would you think that? And of me, of all people?”

She’s so, so gentle with the way she says it. Her voice quiet and low, not wanting to scare you away with this sudden confrontation. She reeks of true curiosity and something else that seems like hurt. 

“I just,” you start, trying to gather your words, then pause, not really recognizing where Ellie is driving. “Hold on. Where are you—?”

She pulls into an empty parking lot, stopping the car at an awkward angle, careless about her parking etiquette. 

“I’m sorry. I really just wanna clarify things,” she breathes out, her tone hurried as if you’ll slip and fade away if she doesn’t explain herself fast enough. “But, if you want me to completely fuck off, I’ll take you home. Just tell me.” 

You remain quiet, looking at her with a face that reads half anxious, half eager. A mix of the two, both emotions so similar in nature that maybe it kind of looks like… excitement. 

Ellie turns her body in her seat so that she can face you directly. “I was never tired of you, ever.” She takes in a slow, deep breath, trying to pace herself and keep her voice steady. With you, she can become passionate very quickly, so she needs to remain cool. “If anything, I thought that you felt that way about me. You stopped comin’ around, didn’t even try to room with me, and completely bailed on my attempts to see you. Did I do something?” 

She’s completely disarmed. Her words woven with nothing but good intentions, the look on her face desperate for some sort of reconciliation. She eyes you carefully, and if you looked hard enough, you may have been able to catch the glimmer of want in her eyes. 

Overcome with emotion, you fumble. Too busy with wanting to just defend yourself, swinging around your sword with your eyes shut in the hopes that you won’t get hurt, you don’t even try to match her energy. 

“Well, yeah,” you bite back, not nearly as careful as she was. “You changed. Everything changed. You made other friends, new friends, and just left me behind,” you accuse sharply, not thinking straight. “You… went behind my back.”

Despite the way that you speak to her, Ellie’s face softens. She knows what this is about. She’s too understanding, too willing to do anything to get you back in her life. As the realization slowly dawns on her, her heart flutters both with yearning and a deeper need. 

It’s how you end up pressed against the backseat of her car, her mouth on yours as her hands roam freely around your body. You shut up rather quickly, mind blurring over with the oncoming release of years of pent-up wanting. You tried to keep arguing back at her, and she did nothing but talk to you in that sweet tone, with eyes that scream I love you.

It isn’t that she’s trying to coax you, or anything. It just happened as you begin to increasingly realize that she is not going to fight you; she just wants you. She needs you to know that, she has to make herself clear. 

Fog creeps up the car windows as she presses her knee in between your legs, rocking against you slowly. 

Ellie’s pacing herself; she’s thought about this a few times, guiltily. But in her mind, it’s always been in her bed, her mind crafting the scene of your body, your little sounds. It was like she had to slap her own hand away from herself sometimes. 

So while this isn’t exactly what she had daydreamed it would be, she still wouldn’t complain. Regardless of the situation, you were pressed into her, panting and sighing in ways that made her mind turn to soppy mush, overrun with desire and emotion. 

And, while she’s set on taking care of you and showing you just how much you meant and still mean to her, she can’t help but want to make you admit it too. 

She pulls back from kissing you, her eyes glazed over as she looks at your face. Holy shit.

Skin so warm, and you already look spent. She swallows, suddenly doubting how long she’ll be able to hold off. 

She bites back a satisfied smile before she dips down again, her face hidden in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, kissing all the way down. 

“Take this off,” she murmurs, fingers pulling at the waistband of your skirt. You do your best to follow her orders, cramped up in the seat, pulling your knees towards yourself in an attempt to shimmy out of the fabric. It catches on your ankle, hanging, and you giggle at the state of the situation. Ellie’s heart melts over itself, beating erratically; she’s going fucking crazy. 

You’ve done nothing but moan, twitch, laugh, and flutter your lashes. She hasn’t even felt you yet, hasn’t even seen your body in its entirety. And she’s gone. 

She almost raises an eyebrow at the sight of your skimpy little underwear, but her question catches in her throat. You were at the club, after all. Something sinks in her stomach at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this, observing the way the fabric clings onto you. 

Her fingers massage at your inner thighs, her knee firm in place as she keeps them set apart. Her digits dance right against your core, pressing against the fabric. You twitch, rolling your hips into her, fingers catching on the seatbelt behind you, gripping on for life. She laughs, but not necessarily at you. 

It feels like it takes her years (well, technically) to push your panties to the side, eyes falling hazy as she stares right into you. You’re so vulnerable, you try shutting your thighs close, but she pushes them apart again. 

“I know,” she hushes you, dipping lower to nip at your lips. “I know.” 

Her fingers trace over your folds, and you think you’re about to explode. You hadn’t expected Ellie to be the type to make this agonizing and painful, but you know you probably deserve it after your showcase of attitude. 

She draws her hand back and brings her fingers up to her mouth, sucking on them nonchalantly. A satisfied sigh escapes her as she finally, finally gets to taste you on her tongue. She lets her hand travel back down, and you turn your head to the side, shutting your eyes in anticipation. 

“Look at me,” she commands softly, stopping her fingers right where you want her. 

You nod, giving her the false promise that you will. Ellie sees right through it, and with her free hand she gently grips onto your face, turning you to make eye contact with her. 

She needed to see your face as she fucked you, she needed to know, after so long of wondering, how you looked when facing pure pleasure. 

Your lashes flutter, eyebrows screwing together as she slips her fingers inside your warmth, pressing the heel of her palm against your clit. She’s gentle in the way she stretches you out, working you through it with such care and patience. 

Ellie revels in the way your chest heaves already, pupils blown out with bliss. She moves her knee and lets you shut your thighs together, trapping her hand in place. 

“This is all you needed, huh?” she teases, her voice only a little prickly, but her smile says otherwise. “For me to touch you like this.” 

You nod silently, too busy biting on your bottom lip and rocking your body onto her fingers to reply. 

“Answer me,” she demands with the same softness, setting the tone. Her gaze is locked onto your face, memorizing every twitch of your brow, every whine that leaves your lips. 

It’s almost ridiculous how brainless you are already, melting beneath her entirely. 

“Needed you,” you manage to breathe out, nodding your head again. “So bad.”

Ellie hisses a swear, and she can’t help the way she leans into you, pressing her body against yours. She curls her fingers inside of you, the palm of her hand nudging at your eager bud. She groans to herself as she feels your walls twitch around her digits, her head dropping low as if she has to stop herself from spiraling. She’s hanging on by a thread; a hair, wanting nothing more than to fuck you senseless. But it’s been too long, and she’s got something to prove to you. 

Her eyes shine as she feels your body grow tense, your wriggling becoming more constant. She slows down her pace, watching closely as your mouth drops, a pout playing at your lips. 

“Please,” you begin, and she smiles. 

“Please what?” 

“Please, fucking just,” you try grinding on her fingers, lashes fluttering. “Oh my god,” you sigh, that little attitude trickling in your tone. 

She scoffs, almost meanly. She stops her movements entirely, fingers falling slack in your pussy. “Yeah? Do it yourself, then.” 

And to her surprise, you do. That attitude is wiped clean from your voice as you whimper pathetically, body rolling, walls fluttering as you try to fuck yourself with her fingers. She stares at you in awe, throat running dry. 

It takes her a second, but she blinks and she’s falling back into you. Watching as you desperately chase your release, bumping your clit onto her hand, and you absentmindedly grab onto her arm, trying to anchor yourself. 

She sucks her teeth and sighs to herself. She had intended to drag this out, to make you beg, to make you say that you were hers all along. But with the way you hold onto her, shamelessly rutting your hips, her name falling off your lips like a prayer— she already knows it’s all true. 

She’s kind enough to start thrusting her fingers again, moaning at the way your slick bundles at your entrance, coating her fingers and slipping down her hand. It’s obscene, but she doesn’t care. In fact, it gives her more of a reason to clean you up afterward. 

“Ellie,” you breathe suddenly, your little prayers becoming less coherent as a certain feeling creeps around, engulfing your body and mind. “I’m gonna cum,” you whine shamelessly, the heat in your stomach spreading lower and lower, your body tingling. 

She leans over you again, watching over your face as your eyes slip shut. 

“Go ahead, baby. Let me hear you.” 

It’s a demand but she still says it so softly, a certain tenderness behind her words. You choke on your own moan, body practically seizing as your thighs tighten, fingers digging into her arm. You chant a repeated I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, and Ellie smiles as you do anyway, your cunt swallowing her fingers with your release. 

Her hand relentlessly slaps against your core, even though you begin to tear up and beg for her to stop. She smiles to herself before she slowly drags her fingers out of you, bringing them back up into her mouth. 

It’s not nearly enough. While you slump back into the seat, panting, body still shaky from such strong sensations, she’s busy maneuvering her body to sit on the floor of the car and propping your legs onto her shoulders. 

You blink as you slowly come back to reality, your mind hazy. 

“Ellie,” you start softly, reaching out your hand. 

She reaches up and intertwines your fingers, eyes locked on your dripping cunt as her voice carries over to your ears. “I’m right here. Can’t let it go to waste.” 

Your eyes roll back, another string of moans escaping you as Ellie shuts her eyes and latches onto your clit, moaning into your pussy. 

The hours of the night escape both of you, becoming lost in each other in the back of her car, cementing your fate. 

Ellie laughs at your blank expression, her hand rubbing down her face in disbelief. 

“That was so… garbage. Beyond garbage. Landfill levels of trash,” you say weakly, the soft lights of the movie theater reflecting off your face. 

She continues giggling at your side, hand over her mouth in an attempt to be quiet despite the fact that the movie is already over. 

You playfully swat at her arm, turning to her, face ridden with shock. “There’s no way you’re not disappointed! This shit was such a waste of money. We were better off pirating it.” 

She shakes her head and smiles to herself, hand wrapping around your own as she pulls you to stand up with her. “I think it was well worth it; it was, like, funny bad.” 

You stand, wrapping your arm around her own as you two trail down the steps of the theater. You continue picking the movie apart, disdain in your voice. You have a reason to be passionate; this lazy attempt at turning Savage Starlight into a box office success had taken a terrible turn, the movie filled with stupid one-liners and god awful acting. 

You should’ve known; it’s been a month since the trailer dropped— or, since you and Ellie came back together. A month of everything falling into place, the pieces of your individual lives slipping back into the way they used to be. A month of constant, whispered confessions, making up for lost time; lovelorn kisses, touches fueled by years of yearning. Pursuing your lives together again, and of course, falling back into your geeky little habits— the one thing that brought you together in the first place, anyway.

You shouldn’t have walked in with such high expectations after the both of you predicted how awful it was gonna be once you both sat down to rewatch the trailers together. 

As the two of you make it outside of the building, Ellie bites her cheek at the way you continue to ramble, the passion in your voice making her heart swell. There is just too much to adore about you. 

“Hey,” she starts, voice low. 

You raise your eyebrows. “What?”

Ellie nods her chin in the direction of her car, mischief written all over her face. “I know a way to give you a happy ending.”

You groan in annoyance, pushing her away. Your voice rings out and into her ears, settling her restless heart as you scold her, a smile showing through.

“Ellie!”

[porcelainpot]

It takes a long time before you leave your den again, the small cave proving to be a cage, as Soap so graciously called it, for not only them but you too, even if sometimes it can be considered your little heaven too.

It's not that you don't want to leave, it has been at least three hours since Soap had gotten himself too close for comfort, riling you up enough that you almost forgot to keep distance for the both of you.

No, it's not that.

It's that you're fucking terrified and you don't want to admit it.

You have watched and analyzed them all enough to understand that he has a weird sense of flirting and is more feral than what he looks, if his stunt a few hours ago wasn't proof of that, then the way he would usually do the same with other mer, prey mer, or fishes is proof of how he gets off on doing it.

You look at yourself, your fins, your tail, beautiful oranges and whites decorating the venomous spines that serve as hunting and protective tools. Or that should be their purpose, if it wasn't for the lack of poison they had.

They do work for hunting and to protect yourself, but the thing is that they're not lethal at all, if only, the supposed venom is more of anesthetic.

Instead of causing pain, it makes the prey, and predators, lose feeling on their limbs, starting from where the location of the sting and then it spreads, just like the venom should work. You know this, which is why you never correct them about how poisonous you are, because you aren't. You just work as a type of numbing tool.

Everyone would have a field, especially Soap, so it's not like you'll ever tell them and keep your distance away. In the end it's more for your protection than theirs.

Your belly rumbles and you scrunch up your nose, you're hungry, not having really thought of eating since hours ago because you were enjoying Ghost's company and also the fact you were not hungry at all.

But now here you are, and thanks to someone called fucking Soap, you can't find it in yourself to go out and hunt, because what if he's out there? What if he tries to do the same again?

Surely not, Ghost already made him go back to their reef to go bother Gaz or Price, maybe even take a nap but that doesn't deter you.

Your fins and spikes have been flared all these hours and it's starting to hurt a bit with how tense your muscles are. It makes you want to tear out something, to sink your teeth on his shoulder, to grab his face and stab your spikes against his skin until they pierce it to watch him go limp and sink on the sand, unable to move.

You shake your head, clawing at the sand to get rid of those thoughts. He would probably like it, might even fantasize about it if you think enough, he looks like he would. More so at the glee to show he was right, that you're not dangerous as he thought and that's exactly why.

A shiver goes down your spine at his words, at the fact he thought he could break your spines, it has panic raising up your throat before you shake your head and calm down. No, no he wouldn't.

At least you try to think that. (Oh, but he would, how else would you end up with them? That way you wouldn't be able to protect yourself, but they could keep you safe and to themselves.)

Your nerves are too fried to calm down, today you probably won't go out hunting until you've calmed down, the thought of finding Ghost at night causes an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

He stopped Soap, that's fine, good even, at least one of the two has a sense of safety even if he doesn't regard you as a predator like him (although the cause of it barely counts as a threat). Not like you need his approval, you're not friends, far from it, just acquaintances at best. That only makes your decision of hunting at night more difficult.

You sigh, curling up onto yourself. You can skip a day or two of not hunting, it's fine. You can sleep most of it away.

-

You wake up again by the sound of something swimming around your small reef, you barely catch it, with sleep clouding your mind still after sleeping all day. You swim closer to the small gaps of your small den, just to take a peek.

It's Ghost, because of course he is. The mer likes to hunt at night, but it's weird that he's outside your small cave at this hour, by now he should be far away looking for food.

"Wha?"

"Come outside." He commands, it makes you frown, why would you do that? It's late and you're tired.

"No. I'm sleeping." You mumble, unconsciously leaning a bit closer to look at him better through the small space.

Your spikes are all relaxed, finally, muscles sore from your body being alert for so long. You're in no position to speak properly, sleep heavy and worsened by the lack of food, trying to make it up for the lack of energy.

Ghost hums, something low and quiet it almost makes you think it was your mind playing tricks on you if you weren't looking at him through half lidded eyes.

"Come on. I got you something, pretty fish." His voice is low and thick, honeyed, as sweet as someone with a gruff and heavy voice could do, to make you come out.

The pet name has you a bit hooked, and the sight of the actual fish on his hand after he presents it has you fully out of your home. You swim towards him, towards the food actually, and reach for it.

You're too tired to even eat it, but you still inspect it, you have to check it's worth and duplicate it tomorrow so you two are even, even in your half-asleep state your mind knows what to do for someone who even gifts you something. You don't like owning anything to anyone.

Ghost looks at you closely, as close as he dares to be given your current situation.

You're half asleep, any word or action he does could either make you react badly and stab him with those beautiful spines you got or have you still be pliant in his presence.

You're an interesting little thing, gorgeous in looks and deadly in touch, he can understand Soap's infatuation with you but he knows how to handle mers like you, he might look disinterested but he already knows how to handle you well.

Ghost takes his opportunity to swim closer, amused when he noticed you curl up around the fish, not to eat it but because you fell asleep holding the food he got you, curled up around it.

"Pretty thing, nothing more than brash words huh?" He murmurs as he very softly cups his hand under you, eyes sharp and focused on your fins and tail, looking for a telltale of flaring spines or the flick of your ear fins.

You're quite small and pliant, colorful even in the darkness of their reef. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. You're lucky it's me and not Soap, the twat would be pricked as soon as he got you at hands reach."

Of course, you barely make a sound at that, scrunching up your nose before relaxing again and he takes the opportunity to run his thumb on your back, brushing his fingers through your fins and skin, careful to not touch your spines.

Ghost wonders if you're even aware of what he's doing, of how powerless you are right now, but he doesn't entertain the thought much when you star to stir again.

He lets you go as soon as your tail swishes, letting you blink and rub your eyes, looking around before squinting at him, saying a quick 'thanks' before swimming to your small den.

That's dangerous, don't you know you should be attentive at all times? Not every mer is as nice as he is right now.

With one last peek, he swims away to continue with his night routine, what he needed to do is done and he won't do more, you aren't his responsibility if you're not Price's responsibility.

Yet, anyways.

For now, your naps and quiet time together are enough for him, even if he has to look out for Soap.

[ldrfanatic]

this happens once every few lifetimes

mattheo riddle x reader

synopsis - reader transfers to hogwarts from ilvermorny. she and mattheo fall in love with each other at first sight.

warnings - none, i think?

listened to while writing - the alchemy by taylor swift

i have a clara bow theo one in the works right now that i'm excited to drop at some point. ngl this gif of benjamin in deadly class inspired this idea A LOT.

part two?

slytherin boys works

you waited with baited breath outside of the great hall.

any moment now the doors would swing open and albus dumbledore, who you knew only through legend, would announce your transfer to hogwarts.

it was terrifying honestly. leaving ilvermorny was indescribably difficult. but when your father got a job opportunity at the british ministry of magic, it was decided. already you were feeling overwhelmed. you'd done your research but hogwarts was much larger than ilvermorny. it was much older as well, and thus had gained a reputation over a thousand years of producing some of the greatest witches and wizards the world has ever seen.

the large magnificent doors opened and every pair of eyes was on you.

you walked forward with sweaty palms, subtly attempting to dry them on your plain, black hogwarts robes. another change. the wardrobe was much more strict here than back in america. and where every student at ilvermorny wore the same blue and gold, students at hogwarts wore colors representative of their house.

finally, you reached the end of the walkway and stood face to face with a dusty and rather ancient looking hat. to your light surprise, it spoke. a woman whom you'd met briefly beforehand, professor mcgonnagall, picked up the hat gently and motioned for you to sit on the stool.

it was time to be sorted into one of hogwarts four houses. you'd been in wampus, the house of the warrior, at ilvermorny, and despite hours of research, you couldn't distinguish what the hogwarts equivalent would be. all four houses seemed to be good choices but there was one in particular that stood out to you.

no shorter or longer than exactly fifteen seconds after the sorting hat touched your head, a declaration was made.

"slytherin!"

an older student in green robes gestured you over to the table on the far right. not wanting to sit at the very front and continue to be gawked at, you briskly walked a little further down and took a seat at the middle of the table.

once you'd taken your seat, dumbledore began to explain that hogwarts would be hosting the triwizard tournament this year. after a flashy introduction from beauxbatons and durmstrang, you effectively decided that you were not the most interesting shiny new toy at hogwarts this year and silently thanked the universe for this turn of events.

at last, it was announced that you could eat and the tables filled with food. all around you students' plates began magically creating complex dishes. there were even some dinners that held food that you were sure you couldn't see anywhere on the table.

frustrated, you stared down at your empty plate. it was a long journey to hogwarts. you were hungry and quite frankly tired of things being so different. if one more complicated situation made its appearance at this school, you were undoubtedly going to lose it.

"just think about a food you really want to eat. it can be anything."

a boy next to you with brown hair and bright blue eyes leaned over. a thick italian accent levied on his deep voice.

you closed your eyes and thought about a delicious juicy cheeseburger with golden-crisp french fries. sure enough, when you opened your eyes, your plate had filled with food.

absolutely giddy with glee, you turned to thank the mystery man.

"no problem. i'm theodore nott. this is draco malfoy next to me."

the platinum blonde boy didn't even look up to acknowledge your existence. theodore, seemingly sensing your mild displeasure, spoke up.

"don't mind him. welcome to slytherin house. riddle, say hello to our newest recruit."

the dark haired boy directly across from you who you assumed was 'riddle' did in fact look over from his conversation with a boy with a chestnut colored complexion. yet, when your eyes found his, he didn't say hello.

he didn't say anything actually. he just sort of stared. as you held eye contact, it was like lightning running through your veins and sizzling at your fingertips.

for a moment, you wondered if he'd ever seen a person before.

then, as if he'd snapped out of a daze, a gentle smile played at his lips. dark curls fell over his brown eyes that seemed to sparkle the longer you looked at them.

his large hand crept over the table until it was outstretched towards you with a kind smile.

"mattheo."

you shook his hand with a shy smile. mattheo was currently looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered. in fact, your little interaction had gone on so long that theodore and the boy mattheo had been speaking with had both strucken up conversation with other students at the table.

"y/n."

mattheo eyed your appearance. his gaze flickered across your face, then to your hair, and all over the parts of your body he could see.

"sorry if this is a little awkward, but i can't remember the last time i was this captivated by someone." mattheo finally released your hand and you had to stop yourself from begging him not to.

"welcome to slytherin house. you're in the snake's nest now, beautiful."

---

7.8.2024

[my-castles-crumbling]

ghost - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 221 - NSFW

"James? Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost," Peter asked, eyeing his terrified-looking friend who sat in an armchair, staring at the fire with a blank stare.

"Wormy," James whispered in a rough voice, fear lacing his tone. "Whatever you do- don't go into our dorm!"

Shifting nervously from foot to foot, Peter stepped closer to his friend. "What happened, Prongs? Did the Slytherins do something?"

"No," James scoffed, still frowning at the fire. "Nothing so...simple."

Now Peter was truly confused. "Then what? Is everyone okay?"

"Oh, they're more than okay," James chuckled darkly.

"Who, James?" Peter asked, feeling nervous now. "What the bloody hell is going on.

Hazel eyes turned to him. "Moony...and Padfoot."

Peter blinked, still not understanding. "I don't.."

But James, who seemed to be finished with his dramatics, sighed and stood, leaning forward to whisper in Peter's ear.

A few moments later, the shorter boy recoiled, face contorted in disgust. "They were using their ties to what?"

James just nodded grimly. "I saw parts of Sirius no man should ever have to see....except, y'know...maybe Remus."

But after a moment of gazing at each other with matching horror, both burst out laughing, wiping tears from their eyes with glee.

"Merlin, I knew they'd be twisted fucks," James chuckled, moving to sink back in his seat.