#i hope the snippet makes sense

[biting-miguel-ohara]

i will never!!! turn down an opportunity to see a snippet of your writings!!! and i saw the ask game so!!! i must ask about the hurt comfort smut fic!! i'm so curious (*´ω｀)

- 🎀 anon

Awwww! Thank you for asking about it!

I only started yesterday, so it’s not very far along, but here’s a snippet from the beginning.

You startle, freezing up. Your ears flatten against you, even as two strong arms slip around you.

“Hey, handsome.” Logan’s voice is scratchy with sleep. It’s usually your favorite sound, but all you can hear right now is “You’re not her.”

“Hey…” You can’t get your body to move, your prey instincts locked tight. He seems to sense this, perhaps an animal instinct of his own, because he pulls back.

The story has a bunny mutant!Reader, some misunderstandings, emotional hurt/comfort, and some softer, sweet smut

At least, that’s what’s planned, lol. It’s still being written so who knows what’ll come out of it

Thank you for the ask! <3

[alfheimr]

the selkie sea captain and the seashell that sings a song of home.

i started this comic last year before my hand surgery and finally got around to finishing it! whew! i wanted to finish it in may because i intended this as a sort of mermay thing but now im realizing im not sure if selkies count for that. well, they do in My Heart.

[defectivehero]

Villian (hero's lover) locks up injured hero until they get better, hero was injured many times before and would always convince villian that they were fine, this was the last straw.

i am allergic to explicit romance (or romance at all), so i'm skipping over that part haha

"Well, isn't this fun," the villain remarks, raising their brows as they study the hero's form. They've been waiting for the hero to arrive. After all, the villain's misdeeds are never ignored for very long. And the villain has enough experience to know exactly how to unsettle and unnerve the hero—how to get them running over in five minutes; how to summon them without so much as a single word or action. They are the puppet master and the hero is their faithful mannequin, bending to their every whim.

Yet the hero has been running about with loose strings recently. Surely that is the only explanation for their current state: as they stand unsteadily, blood spattered across their clothes and bruises and scrapes nearly everywhere. It looks like they're favoring their left ankle over their right and there's a dazed glaze in their eyes, as if they're fighting off fatigue. "Just what makes you think you can take me on in such a state?" The villain asks lightly.

"Shut up," the hero hisses. They take a step forward—evidently intending to fight them—only to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. The villain chokes on a laugh; after a few seconds, they walk over and look down at their enemy, clicking their tongue.

"This is embarrassing," the villain remarks. They lightly kick at the hero's side and the hero groans, flipping to lie on their back. The hero squints up at them as the sunlight evidently burns bright spots in their vision.

"Just... leave," the hero bites out. It's clear that their pride is wounded, if they're admitting that they can't fight. If the villain were a kinder person, they would leave the hero be. But they have never been kind, so they laugh instead.

"I don't think so," the villain says, regarding the hero with mild interest. "You were the one to seek me out, remember?" Indeed, the villain got here first, and the hero arrived shortly after. The villain stares down at the hero's form for a long moment, a plan quickly taking shape in their mind.

"What are you plotting?" The hero asks, breaking them out of their thoughts. The villain must've had a smirk on their face. They raise a brow and the smirk returns. Something in their expression must betray their intentions, because the hero immediately tries to back away on their elbows. "Don't touch me," the hero spits.

"Sure," the villain remarks easily, ignoring their request and instead bending down and picking the hero up into their arms. They're sure their rival wants to resist, but they're evidently much too injured to do so. Regardless, the hero looks positively murderous. The villain takes a deep breath and closes their eyes, until the familiar feeling of darkness encompasses them and they visualize their intended destination: their laboratory. Within moments, the villain is standing in the center of their lab with the hero.

"What the fuck are you doing-?" The hero spits, blinking rapidly as they recover from the quick teleportation. A person who is teleported against their will can experience dizziness, blurred vision, headaches... The list goes on. The villain supposes these side effects only further aid their current plans, making the hero pliant in their arms.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" The villain asks quizzically, walking mechanically towards the glass enclosure near the edge of the room. They feel an amused smile growing on their lips. "Taking a walk in the park? Honestly." The motion sensors activate and the door to the enclosure slides open. The villain walks to the corner of the space and unceremoniously drops the hero onto the ground. Their enemy groans at the

The hero is hardly able to move—they will not be able to escape. The villain watches as that realization crashes down on them, as they're forced to accept their sudden captivity.

"I don't understand-" They mumble, looking around the space with a sort of dazed confusion.

"You really do talk too much." The villain murmurs regretfully.

"I-" The hero sputters. It seems they've never been told that before. That is really a shame—they need more honest friends, the villain thinks to themself. "This isn't- I could die in here!" They stare up at them with panic.

The villain pointedly looks at the adjacent wall and the hero turns their head to the side. Their reaction is incredibly amusing—so much so that the villain wishes they had the foresight to record it, so that they could watch it over and over again. The hero regards the water machine with a truly nasty glare, as if the machine did something to personally offend them.

"You're joking," the hero seethes. "What is this, a fucking hamster cage? You're missing an exercise wheel." They scoff, looking around the rest of their new cage. "...And food."

"You know humans can survive for three weeks without food," the villain remarks helpfully. "And I've always wanted to test that theory..." They smile, clasping their hands excitedly.

"Seriously?" the hero hisses incredulously. "I'm not a fucking guinea pig for you to experiment on."

"You aren't?" The villain asks, slipping on a mask of genuine confusion. "Then why did you come when I called?" The hero stares at them in irritated disbelief. The villain hums in satisfaction. The hero's anger and confusion gives them immense joy. "Maybe now you'll learn to take better care of yourself," they murmur patronizingly, crouching down and placing a hand on the hero's cheek.

"Don't touch me," the hero repeats like a mantra. The villain isn't sure if that remark is meant for them or the hero themself. They don't think it quite matters.

"This is your own fault, you know," the villain whispers, standing back up. The accusation sinks heavily into the air and the hero must know it to be true, if the way the light in their eyes briefly flickers and dims. "if you hadn't come to me in such a state, this wouldn't have happened."

The hero looks to be considering their next words thoughtfully. It's clear they want to beg or plea, but they must know that their efforts will be to no avail. The villain has never bowed down to the hero's desires, and they don't plan to start now.

Evidently discouraged, the hero switches tactics. Their composure promptly shatters, as it is instead replaced with raw, unbridled fury. It's clear that they've come to one inevitable conclusion: they will be trapped here until the villain wishes to release them (if the villain wishes to release them). "You can't do this to me!" The hero screams, their eyes wide and their voice unsteady.

"I believe I just did," the villain says with a slight smile. They take a step backwards. "See you in a few days. Try not to die. Or do—just don't make a mess of it." They walk out the door and it slides shut behind them, leaving the hero caged in walls of glass. The villain sits down at their desk and busies themself with their newest blueprints. Their enemy's agitated screams and desperate shouts are a pleasant hum in the back of their mind as the villain resumes their work.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

me typing: "raw unbridled furry." me: wait. fury. i meant fury.

tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello

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[wackywatchdotcom]

Rewatching episode one, I noticed that when Ragatha and Jax are talking to each other about Jax having a key, Pomni flinches away from, and lifts her arms to protect her face and head, when Jax toys with the key and catches it near her.

I wonder if she is that jumpy around others normally or if it's just when she's in a stressful situation (like suddenly being trapped in the circus) what do you think?

OK. ok. you mention this. and ive never said anything about it but i have genuinely noticed this almost every time ive seen that scene. i think about it a LOT but i havent been able to figure out my thoughts on it. but i think about it genuinely a LOT...

(i went on a huge tangent abt her thats like. only sporadically related to this specific moment SORRY. it was hard to address this moment without discussing a LOT about her i feel)

for the sake of clarity in the event someone reading this is unfamiliar, what this ask is referring to is this:

with the way that she so quickly dissociates and HARD (not that most people Never experience dissociation or smth, but its the intensity of it and how quick into this situation she starts dissociating is like. it makes it seem like its smth her body and mind are Used To Doing) she REALLY gives off the feeling that she had pre-existing mental health problems (i struggle to place anything TOO specific with the limited information we have but i feel like theres definitely a few things she has going on) before she even got to the circus, and like she COULD just be a naturally jumpy person, but with the dissociation thing and general distrust towards others, it feels like her jumpiness is also related to these issues

while her being naturally nervous is sort of implied and clear (though i think the extent of it is exaggerated by the circumstances of the pilot in particular) there ARE a few other examples that stand out to me

i THINK this can largely be passed off as her just being on edge from the horror adventure, but i this is IS notable that she reacts genuinely pretty strongly to what is a relatively minor 'jumpscare.' it happens later too w kinger pressing the tape recorder

in general she seems VERY easily startled by people, and frankly it reads a lot like it stems more from people being near her than just things happening abruptly. she notably doesnt jump hard when the angel arrives- she DOES get scared, but she isnt necessarily startled. she DOES react very strongly to ghostly, but i think its notable that she seems to find his visual appearance frightening and debatably not necessarily startling, but thats not really 100%. the times she reacts the strongest have to do with people, which imo ties HARD into her not trusting people

episode 2 breaks down her distrust of people well, and i dont think its a self consciousness thing. it seems more that she just doesnt tend to find people trustworthy- if something bad was happening to her, she would sooner assume theyd let it happen rather than help her. it could be argued that its partially a guilt or projection thing with ragatha, but im not actually so sure. pomni seems to be ashamed of leaving her behind, but particularly through ep 2 she doesnt seemed Plagued With Guilt by the way she acts towards ragatha, which implies that the dream didnt have to do with her projecting that shame in a way shed assume ragatha would turn back on her, too

it instead seems to be that she doesnt trust ragatha just... in general. the 'im not a child' thing, while a legitimate problem for pomni to have with ragatha (i love ragatha, and from my place in the audience i know her concern is genuine, and that she truly wants to encourage pomni, and is trying, but from the perspective of people around ragatha, its not an unreasonable assumption that shes JUST being infantilizing and belittling), does illuminate how pomni is seeing ragathas attempts at cheering her up- that it comes from a place of seeing pomni as immature or generally unstable. that pomni is incapable of managing herself and needs to be coaxed. it implies pomni doesnt see ragathas attempts at help as genuine. combined with her dream, that ragatha would allow the worst to happen to her even when she was asking for help, makes it very clear that, even with the 'nicest' person in the circus, pomni just... doesnt really trust her

(it is worth noting that pomni DOES seem to genuinely want to help ragatha in the pilot. she DID try to find caine. but she bolts at the first opportunity. she does care about people, but when stressed, she operates on keeping herself safe first and foremost, that she needs to do anything to get out of a bad situation even if that means leaving someone behind- and with her dream, it does seem that she generally assumes other people operate similarly, or otherwise in their own best interest)

this does, of course, improve by the end of eps 2 and 3. the funeral, and ragatha offering to include her, and how the others talk about abstracted players (combined with her conversation with gummigoo, someone who she has to assure has genuine friendships with those around him despite the lack of a true reality for them to be based upon), are able to convey that oh, these people do actually care about the people around them. theyre being genuine. they arent just looking out for themselves and thats it- they care when bad things happen to each other. and theres no true reason for me to be an exception. which is ALSO why i dont think its a self consciousness thing, she seems able to reason that shes not an exception to the intents of others, so much that when she cant assure herself that others' intents hold her safety as any sort of priority as well, any trust goes out the window. she WANTS to help if she can, but esp in the pilot, as far as shes concerned, its everyone for themself when shit gets bad, including herself

ep 3, she seems more trusting of ragatha- she has neutral and positive interactions w her, rather than assuming a lack of sincerity in it. but its not just ragatha, actually, because even before her talk with him, you can see it in how she interacts with kinger as well

she initially tries to help him run, which isnt too out there- with how she genuinely DID initially try to help ragatha, it doesnt require her to go out of her way to grab him and RUN. she can run AND take him with her. she can help without putting herself in extra danger. but then she DOES go back, which is one of my favorite and imo underrated pomni moments. because THIS is what i think actually highlights an improvement in how she sees the others before her apologizing to ragatha or taking kingers hand. because she puts herself BACK into (percieved, since its not actual sure WHAT the angels intentions were her) danger in order to get kinger away too

(theres probably a case to be made that ragatha didnt seem to be in immediate danger- she was in pain, that much was clear, but kaufmo had ran away by then. but even still, pomni couldnt have known kaufmo would shift gears and start chasing her instead of ragatha that first time. and i dont know if she actually knew death wasnt possible here yet. which isnt very flattering for pomni but also people do not act in flattering ways under extreme stress, esp given a predisposition to not trusting others, which ill elaborate more on in a second here- not that pomnis abandonment was ok OR that it was like evil of her or smth. shes just a person. there is no way she was prepared to know how to act correctly in this situation, and she didnt)

theres also this

which is SUBTLE but highlights a genuine increase in trust even before their heart to heart. now that she knows the cast (save for jax, who she seems to react to the harshest, which is worth noting imo) are not acting solely in their own best interest, that they WILL consider the wellbeing of those around them including her, that their concern for one another is genuine (which is concerning that she even assumes that to begin with, which ill circle back to momentarily), she very clearly has way more faith in them and the idea that she should stick around the others for safety

and of course, ive said it before, but her taking kingers hand has little to do with her enjoying holding hands. its her knowing that, if kingers wrong, this is going to end very, very badly. if holding their breath isnt the solution theyre BOTH going to get possessed, and who knows how theyd get out of that situation. but she decides in that moment that her trust in the others isnt ONLY about looking out for them and believing that theyre sincere in their concern for her. but that she is willing to let the others put her at a potential massive risk. getting possessed was a blatantly immediately traumatic experience- and she lets kinger put her at risk of it happening again. THATS why she holds his hand, at least symbolically. she doesnt like contact. but she can brave something that she doesnt like, she can let him lead her into and through something potentially horrific, because shes deciding to trust him and the others, that theyre not just people she can interact with without fear of ill intentions, but that theyre people who she is going to coexist with. the best thing she can do for herself and the others is trust them and work with them actively

anyway that got off-track, the point being that her having to have these ideas instilled in her at all through shared experiences and trauma implies that, while these issues with distrust may have been exacerbated by the stress of everything, they didnt come from nowhere. these are problems she likely already had to some degree. its great that theres been improvement but that improvement directly implies thesse were improvements that needed to be made to begin with. and the fact that the person she gets repeatedly most startled by is jax. who, even with episode 2, she explicitly doesnt trust. in the pilot, at least, her distrust is more vague (i think the dream sequence in ep 2 IS what highlights it best) so her flinching from jax can be passed off as related to a general lack of adjustment to the new environment and situation shes in. but it happens again with jax in episode 3 (and, notably, she pauses afterwards but it takes a moment for her to relax even knowing its just jax), after shes adjusted somewhat, and after shes gained some trust with everyone except for jax (given his absence from the scene at the end of ep 2). it also happens when barons voice plays abruptly next to her

point being that imo, she IS naturally jumpy. she says herself that she doesnt handle jumpscares well, which somewhat implies this even outside of the circumstances of the circus. but with how she reacts to things, it feels like her general jumpiness is far, far worse when it comes to people she doesnt trust (be it because jax is Like That, or because shes not familiar with baron). the way i see it, then, her distrust extends to perceiving physical threats easily around people she hasnt ensured are safe to be around. she IS able to gain this trust in people, but she seems to automatically place the intents of others as being Potentially Unsafe from the jump, especially under stress. she can jump back from it fairly quickly for what its worth, but to be honest, it seems more like she operates on some general, everpresent level of hypervigilance thats just sometimes worse based on the situation

and frankly i dont think we know enough about her as of ep 4 to fully determine if there IS a reason for this. because someone can have a reason to be this jumpy around others, or they can just... be nervous and dislike people moving suddenly near them. combined with the dissociation thing, though, im inclined to think the circus did not cause this, just made it more extreme with more unpleasant stakes. there is hardly any time between her entering the circus and this happening. she hadnt even seen kaufmo yet in that very first example, but she was already on alert for a physical threat, and i just. i think about it all the time...

i think the main takeaway from all of this is that i think she isnt necessarily jumpy like that all the time, but i think trust is not a given with pomni, and her jumpiness massively depends on how much she trusts people near her and the situation shes in to not be a physical threat to her. its definitely worse in the circus, but i think it was probably still something present in a different context in the real world, too

[xappetites]

i'm not completely sure what this is i'm just real emotional about Frank Fucking Woods, same universe as this

This is a long time coming. Too long, where Frank is concerned. Thing is, they haven’t had time for it, with the constant driving back and forth to the VA, the hospital, the physical therapy, and the dragging bureaucracy of honorable discharge. Then David started getting nightmares —which is perfectly understandable for a kid his age who suddenly finds himself with no one in the world except Frank—, and Bell’s real good with nightmares.

So it’s been months since Frank’s had this: Bell’s perfect ass in his palms, her laughter in his mouth and the graceless bumping into shit on their way to the bedroom. The little shushed giggle as she tugs the armrest to straighten him down the hallway, freeing the foot paddle from the corner.

Trying to keep quiet is another new thing, since there’s a sleeping child a couple rooms away, but he’s not letting go now that he has his hands on her. In fact, Frank has half a mind to run her over and try carrying her himself just so he doesn’t have to stop touching her. But then she’s opening the door wide for him and this is why he suffers that sadistic fucker of a nurse at physical, so he can still maneuver his ass onto the bed and his own damn pants off when he wants to fuck his wife.

Bell laughs under her breath, kicking off jeans and underwear, moving to straddle him where he finally settles against the pillows.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Here.” Her answer is half whisper, half moan and goddamn, she’s already slick for him. She arches, presenting her tits so Frank can manhandle them free and nose at the warm, soft space between them. “For your frown.”

Frank’s cock reacts before he does, so do his hips. There’s a delightful ache in sliding against her, twitching, pretty much on instinct. Pulling at her waist and groaning into her mouth.

“You’re a little minx, aren’t you?”

“I have good reason to be.”

He’s always been a sucker for Bell’s smiles, from way back when he expected to babysit Adler’s shiny new automaton and instead got a toothy grin in the middle of a firefight —that for a long time made him wish he’d just been hit. But the one she gives him, perched in his lap and rocking against him until his cock catches and slides smoothly inside her, spears him straight through the heart.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this.” She says and she’s wearing this ‘home after a long day’ kinda smile, with eyes narrowed so Frank can’t tell she’s tearing up until the drop escapes down her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

And he’s right there with her, choked up to finally have a minute for just her, the same old Bell squeezing his heart between her pretty palms, no matter how everything has changed.

“You got me, honey. All of me.”

All that’s left of me, he doesn’t say, because it’s depressing when he’d really rather fucking not. What he does manage, comes out barely understandable, pressed against her mouth and it’s a little bit pathetic anyway, but Frank can’t care when she’s chuckling into a filthy kiss and tightening around him.

“Oh, you like that?”

Bell pulls back, laughter turning into a giggle as she wipes the tears. And this time the pressure of her muscles on his cock is purposeful.

“I do.”

“All that cock just for you, huh?”

She bears down at that comment, rides him so slow and deep that she has to shush the very loud groan it pulls out of his throat. 

“The cock and all the rest,” Bell doesn’t falter in the rhythm she starts, works him like her pride’s on the line, “your laugh and your eyes, and the way your beard burns. All mine.”

God, what a fucking sucker she makes out of him. Frank’s never been a man to speak his affections, it’s too much to put on the line, to have his heart out there like that. Especially now that he’s even more convinced that loving the likes of him is poison. So he sneaks a hand between their bodies, shifts their balance with firm circles over her clit and tries to squeeze the truth into a single word.

“Yours.”

Despite his better judgment and not exactly to her benefit, as far as he’s concerned, but it’s true. It’s enough. All it takes for Bell’s orgasm to hit full force. A thing of beauty, dimmed quiet but so intense, her thighs shake. Aching in the pit of Frank’s stomach for a long second because he can’t flip her under him anymore, give those pretty legs a break and pound her full while she melts into the mattress for him.

She laughs, though, breathless. And she kisses him with a sort of manic joy, face glowing and hair sticking to her forehead; picking back where she left off, rolling her hips ‘till he’s emptying himself inside her, panting like a dog and —for a single shining second— content to the bone.

Hers.

Suspended in a moment where it doesn't matter that they’re sort of sticky, staving off the chill only by virtue of clinging to each other. Then Bell climbs off for long enough to get a warm, wet towel that she uses to clean him and herself; before tucking them both in with easy banter. Talking up a storm in what Frank suspects is an effort to distract him until she’s curled sweet against his side.

In the morning, when it’s the sun bright through the window that wakes them, Frank finds it’s the first night David’s slept through without screaming his way out of a nightmare. He lets Bell wash his hair, in the brand new, spanking bench she got installed in the shower. And he figures he’ll find his way through this. Even if it’s embarrassing, even if it’s painful.

For all the shit he’s survived and all the things he can still do, he refuses to let this be what fucking kills him.

[criminalmaya]

Can't believe i had to bear the sight of fucking 🗿 and no eddie diaz tonight. The fuck is wrong with you tim? You mean to tell me an ex amy medic who has seen it all in combat wasn't supposed to be with his team in the biggest disaster the 118 has had to face, the one where his medic knowledge could have help a lot? the one where their captain, bobby nash, who is his family too, dies???? Does that sound right for anyone? Cause it doesn't for me.

[claitea]

thinking abt that kyurem post actually. its honestly weird that pokemon didnt start becoming Characters in the mainline until sun/moon. like you had your plot important box legendary that played a part in the story but it was always just "bad guy makes it fight you and then you win and catch it and the day is saved".

in sun/moon Finally nebby finally feels like a little more than a plot device. thats lillie's friend who you need to help protect, and it returns the favor once it evolves. then there's ogerpon who is also an active participant in the plot, where her own choices (picking you over kieran) affect how things play out

point is i need the eventual bw remakes to have some kind of sidequest where you deal with kyurem's trauma. maybe reveal to the lacunosa town people that its not an evil monster.

[do-you-read-me-00fu]

———————————————

“Batteries?… check. Charged up power cells?…check. New depth module for Dr. Spaghetti?… check.”

Appsro mumbled along to his mental list of gathered supplies, preparing himself for tomorrow.

It felt good to get back into the fray. Being motivated to stay on top of things again, and not mindlessly watching the days idly flash by.

After all, he's about a side quest away from getting cured. Of being ridden of this godforsaken disease that's caused him nothing but headaches, irritating rashes, or at the worst, losing consciousness out of exhaustion.

Course, maybe he could’ve been cured sooner if he didn’t abandon the whole mission to hide away on the island… but that wasn’t his fault. He was abandoned first.

And he didn’t abandoned the mission he… just took a break.

A very long break, though his time on the Floating Island were relatively peacefully, when all he had to worry about was his garden of lantern fruit, or back up batteries for his flashlight.

But now, no longer feeling so scared or alone… it was easier to jump into the waters of this hostile uncharted world again.

He had Neebs by his side again. Same ol’ annoying and, slightly snobby Neebs who, can’t shut up about his over-glorified parking spot from his recent promotion but, he’ll take that talkative hick over Simon and his unreliable ass in a heartbeat.

And with his help, he’ll finally get a step closer to getting the hell off of this miserable planet, if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

“Alright, that should cover all my bases for tomorrow,” Appsro mutters, nodding in satisfaction at his progress.

“Now what else do I need ta collect for that hatchin enz—”

“Seems like so much work just to get yourself back home?” The Voice interrupts his train of thought, taunting him with his own voice in it’s usual saturated distortion.

Appsro’s eyes narrow at the unfavorable return of The Voice, rolling his eyes at its presence. He would’ve thought by now the personification of his loneliness and insanity would’ve died when he left that island. Yet, it still haunts him.

Annoyingly so.

“Yeah well, I’m almost done. Gonna get all the ingredients for Big Momma’s egg hatchin soil, then I’ll be cured and can shut off that alien quarantine gun.” He huffs, a slight mix of irritation yet confidence in his tone.

He then turns away from his diving suit’s backpack inventory, stretching a little.

“Still gonna be a few years of waitin around for that damn rescue ship ta come, but I’m just stayin positive here. Better than goin back to that island and havin ta hear you bitchin constantly,” He snorts, definitely intending that last statement to insult The Voice.

Even if… insulting The Voice would just be insulting himself.

But his comment didn’t ruffle it, as The Voice simply replies. “You really think the company has kept their word and will attempt to retrieve you?”

Appsro grimaces at the thought, not before scoffing at it. “I’d fuckin hope they do… and they better. Cause I swear if those bastards don’t, I’m gonna have a few choice words for Alterra when I do eventually get home,” He bares his teeth slightly.

A yawn then escapes his lips, signaling to him it’s about time to rest up. He trails over to his base’s circuit breaker box, opening it up to switch his base’s interior lights to a dimmer setting.

“Mm… you know, there is… another way, to get off this planet?”

Appsro stops mid-task, his hand wavering over the switch. His brows furrowed for a moment, before glancing away from the electrical panel.

“… Whadda mean?”

“The race who came before you, the ones who’ve built the facilities and bases… their portal gates lay around these lands, yes?”

“Uh… yeah?” He raises a brow, answering in a slight snide tone, yet was growing increasingly intrigued.

“There is a grander portal gate… a phasegate they once called it. It connects to portals beyond this planet, to other worlds

They’ve certainly been to your world once… and it is certain a phasegate resides there, somewhere hidden…”

The blue-haired survivor blinks, his eyes slowly widening at what is being implied. “A portal to… my world— Earth? Wait— you’re sayin there’s a giant portal somewhere here that can just take me straight home??” He was almost in awe.

It gently chuckled at his excitement, pleased by his reaction. “But of course… however, it also hides somewhere here. It is much further away. Far away.”

The Voice reluctantly adds. “And the facility baring the weapon needs to be shutdown. It cannot be properly activated if not…”

However, Appsro was just grinning, rubbing his hands together while a plan forms in his mind. If turning off the quarantine platform and sailing around to find a giant portal was all it took, he’d say his luck had finally turned around. Big time.

“Well, if I had some coordinates now, that’d be fuckin perfect.” He chuckles, slightly giddy at this revelation.

“Fuck the rescue ship. I’ll just use that as my ticket outta—“

It dawns on him.

“… How… how do you know this?” He asks in a blunt manner, his brows furrowing in thought as his body tensing up, feeling uneasy.

“Is it so important of how we know?”

“Considerin you’re just a figment of my fucked up imagination, yeah! Yeah I’d like to know how the voice in my head knows shit that I didn’t know anythin about!” Appsro sternly barks, not at all liking the ambiguity of this confrontation.

The Voice didn’t answer back immediately, almost to purposely keep his nerves on the edge.

“Perhaps… we are more than just the voices in your head?” It gradually spoke, it’s voice sounding less and less like his own.

“… What? What are you—“ He mutters in confusion, taking a step back from where he stood.

“What? Oh come now, think about it? You really thought you just, out of the blue, started going insane right after being told you might be?”

He hears The Voice darkly chuckle. “We’ve thought you’d catch on months ago… but no… you just seem to be the oblivious type.”

Appsro clenches his fist, baring his teeth as he points at… well, nothing in particular— but, he’s pretending this mysterious entity is where he’s pointing.

“You better start tellin me what the hell is goin on. If you’re not a voice in my head, then what are you?!” He growls, looking around the room as if it’ll appear before him in the flesh.

“Oh please, there is no need to panic? We are your friends~” The Voice teases him in a sickeningly sweet tone.

"We thought you'd be happy to realize you weren't going crazy after all~"

“F-Fuck off,” He quickly retorts, trying his best to be unwavering despite how freaked out he is.

“Whatever the hell you are, get the hell outta my—“

He’s interrupted by an object swiftly covering his mouth. He jolts, not having enough time to properly process what’s going on as he glances down… only to see a hand being the culprit to shutting him up.

More specifically, his own hand.

A muffled gasp escapes him, in confused panic, he first tries to swing his hand off of his mouth. Only to realize it wasn’t responding, not budging.

He grips his wrist to yank off, and when that doesn’t work, tugs the arm attached to the disobeying hand.

But no matter how much he tried, it wouldn’t move. As if in this moment, it wasn’t him who was in control of his own arm.

“You talk too much, you know that?” The Voice whispers, but not in his head… no, it whispered in his ear. He heard it in his ear.

Appsro immediately jerks his head over to where he heard it… only to see that no one was there to begin with. His breathing heavies.

“Ohhh, you poor, pathetic creature. So scared when he’s no longer in control~” The Voice cackles, amused by the human’s torment.

Muffled spews of words came out of his concealed mouth. He keeps tugging and yanking at his wrist and arm, desperately anything to free himself from his frozen hand, but to no avail.

Something began to creep up behind him, an unidentifiable object causally placed on his shoulder. His body jolts again, yet in this state, he felt unnaturally planted, unable to move even if he wanted to.

Despite feeling the weight of something gripping onto his shoulders, in the corner of his eyes, he still saw nothing.

“Now.” He felt another object touch him, this time, cupping his cheeks.

“Let’s try this again.”

———————————————

[aihaloos]

Mwahahahaha my first real fic and of course it has to be Tsukasa angst and contain mafukasa drama.

(Note: If you want context for the scene attached read the tags)

I'm clearly overcompensating for the lack of Tsukasa angst in canon but leave me be okay. SEGA neglects Tsukasa like his parents. I can do what I want. And of course, I'm a sucker for happy endings. I won't nake it end on horrible note.

And I'll try to make it good quality I promise. English isn't my first language [cry] but I'm most comfortable with it and people have told me I'm pretty fluent so hopefully it won't be full of shit...

(Hopefully I've also grown past my wattpad fanfic writer tendencies (I love people on wattpad but a lot of fics there that features x reader would just copy and paste the script, add a bit of description, rewrite tiny bits (aka write the characters fall in love at first sight), and leave it like that. (Or maybe that's twst/kny/mha exclusive... I don't know.) (Granted I do still have some scenes like that because it is a "rewrite" of the main story, but I won't copy n paste the entire thing I swear) Don't get me wrong I still love those fics, they have their charm, but I know I shouldn't be that repetitive.). I still have them, and I'm trying to shake them off...)

[goldencuffs]

Okay I have two theories both might be completely wrong

1) Damen knows something about Auguste and that's why he's keeping his distance from Laurent but then at some point he couldn't help it and said yes to being his bf

2) Damen broke up with Jokaste for Laurent and that's why when Laurent asks about what happened this time he refused to answer.

Loving how the story is going so far! I am always thinking about it!! Also, are we going to get a glimpse of how Damen's life is in Akelios or any of his backstory?

hello my love!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

i know i sound like a broken record but omg i truly am sorry how late i responded to this 😭😭

you know what!! when i originally was making the outline for this fic, damen was a lot more hostile towards coach. like straight up hating on him and picking fights. and it was going to be a huge reason why laurent couldn't stand damen.

and then it was going to be revealed that auguste had confided in damen that he was going to run away. damen goes to coach but coach doesn't take it seriously, and then ofc, auguste does disappear.

but when i started writing this fic i thought it would be more interesting if auguste was this happy guy who never gave an inkling that he was dissatisfied with his life. and everyone deals with the shocking fall out of him simply... leaving. i also thought it was a great way for damen and laurent to initially bond--especially damen, who really had no one else but the revere family.

ALSO i thought it would be better if damen eventually starts to hate coach bc of how he treats LAURENT instead...... especially as his feelings deepen

as for damen's backstory... i don't think i will do a full deep dive. i think it'll be kind of how damen discovers laurents backstory in canon, in little snippets, with the reader slowly piecing things together. idk, for me, this is definitely laurent's story.

anyway sorry this is so late!! i hope the newest chapter gave some clarity on things ❤️❤️❤️

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz 💖

haven't written much lately bc I got too into oth and it's day 4 of watching and i'm like halfway through s2 lmao so I don't have much more of the married buddie fic (which is currently my priority) I can share without sharing everything haha - so, fuck it, here's a non-buddie snippet 🙈 i'm writing this just for me so like, who cares but also figured i'd share bc fuck it haha it's a ryan/taylor fic from the oc - they had an open ending where they weren't explicitly together, so in this fic they both go to college and keep in touch but aren't officially dating until she visits for christmukkah and they talk 🤣 it's very slowly coming together bc I deleted what I had and started from scratch lol

___

It’s hard to coordinate phone calls with a nine hour time difference, especially since Taylor is… well, Taylor is Taylor. She takes up any extracurricular activity she can, gets involved in the social life of her university, and always has her schedule fully packed up. Sometimes when she tells Ryan about her day, he needs to ask if she's taking breaks and has time to breathe. But that’s Taylor. He can’t help but smile as he thinks about her restless need to do it all. He wishes he could be there to make sure she rests, too. 

He wishes he knew where they stand, as well. They’re kinda in this weird limbo right now. They talk at least a few times a week, they spent the last hour before she left making out on the train, but he’s still not sure if they’re dating, if they’re exclusive… He doesn’t think so, and it’s annoying to have to wonder. Taylor is usually so blunt and honest, and she’s always been the one needing reassurances on where they stand. But she’s not saying anything, and it’s slowly driving Ryan crazy.

He picks up the phone and throws his book to the side.

“Hey.” he whispers, falling back against his pillow.

“Hi, Ryan!” he hears her bubbly voice that instantly makes him feel all warm inside. When he closes his eyes, he can see her adorable smile and those piercing hazel eyes that always seem to look straight into his soul. 

“Hey.” he repeats, a smile forcing itself onto his face.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @exhuastedpigeon @king-buckley @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @hoodie-buck @spotsandsocks @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @weewootruck @hippolotamus @steadfastsaturnsrings @malewifediaz @honestlydarkprincess @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @giddyupbuck @jesuisici33

[creationsabyss]

Anemoia (How Long Will You Reach For The Ghosts Of Distant Stars?)

They could see the stars tonight, bright splatters of light across the shadows of the sky. They don't really know why they decided to come out here, so far from the comfort of their little cottage, but they don't want to return, not yet at least. Wrapped in their cloak, they nestle themselves into the trunk of an old, hollowed out tree as they crane their neck upwards. The stars flicker and blink down at them, almost as if they were waving a hello. A ridiculous thought they don't mind entertaining as they raise their own hand to wave back. Maybe they are a bit of a fool, but they never claimed to be wise in the first place.

This reminds them of dreams they could have sworn they had forgotten, the wisps of names and faces that linger on their tongue even as the memories faded from their mind. They could almost feel the leathery skin underneath their fingertips, the sharp edges of scales too big. The blooming feeling of awe as feather and fur alike curl around their shoulders. Even the whistling winds, rustling through leaves and grass, remind them of the songs they used to sing, the lyrics long forgotten. Not quite unexpectedly, it hurts. Aching something fierce and bold in their chest, that forces tears to well in their eyes. Logically, they know it's silly to cry over something they can barely remember, over something that the world doesn't remember existing. At least, not in this life.

But they don't swallow down the sob that leaves their throat nor wipe away the iridescent tears that fall from their eyes. They don't mind the chill that seeps into their chest as their tears soak through the thin fabric of their shirt, far too busy watching the stars drift across the skies. They think, at first, only distantly, that they can see the twisting shapes of long serpentine bodies and billowing wings. They swear they can hear the timber of voices overlapped, the shadows of all too human bodies that they should know but can't quite remember. They wonder if they can miss people that don't exist.

They wonder if these memories are what drives them away from the people, the connections, of this earth. Star child, they remember their grandmother whispering to them in the late hours of the night. You are loved, they remember her murmuring to them every day from then on. They remember clinging to her feeble form as she spun tales of mystical beasts and stories of man made gods. Rivers to a lake, spiraling into the deep caverns underneath, hoarding knowledge underneath their silence. They wonder if there was some truth to her tales after all.

Star child, that name, title they suppose, has haunted them throughout their entire life. They wonder if it is why they can taste lightning on their tongue even when the skies are clear, if it is why they can feel the brittle-snap of thunder between their teeth. They wonder if it is why frost cradles their skin even when hearth-warm fire curls in their chest, the duality often leaving them sick and bedridden. Wildfires spark to life, just shy of burning and charring the vulnerable flesh of their heart. That coil around their ribcage and rumble as though the earth was quaking under a cat's quiet purr. All the while, ice forms at the base of their throat, encircling their arms like sharp shackles. They don't mind the chill, even when it hurts to speak. They welcome the frost and the cold, wrapping themselves in snow to stave off the constant heat.

They suppose it is, just like the winds that push for them to wander the world. A wanderlust unseen in their family, where others root themselves into the soil, they take to the skies. Following where the breeze and the gales blow them, the peaks of snow-capped mountains and the depths of oceans. Their body is not meant for travel, frail from the war that wages inside them. But it's not as if they could stop. They ache for the road, to chase after the stars as if they could someday reach up to pluck them from the skies. Their only real companion over the years, the feel of coiled bodies in the palm of their hand and the sound of an echoing roar in their ears.

Sometimes, they still expect a tail to curl itself around their legs even though the creature that tail is connected to only resides in their dreams. They still turn and expect to see the divine tipped claws of monsters, to have to tip their head back to speak to looming shadows of those they should know and still somewhat do, even if they haven't met them yet. Their disappointment when all that greets them is silence and emptiness is often crushing and immeasurable, inconsolable grief that drapes across their shoulders like a dark veil. Those days, they spend their time inside, away from the sun and the stars, away from the gaze of the people that stare and stare. They spend those days painting and writing, over and over, trying to capture the faces and forms of their companions they so desperately want to remember.

But it never looks quite right. Something is always wrong, always off. Failure is a bitter thing to swallow, it tastes of bile and blood and tainted honor. It is the shattering of pride, the sting of human hubris that leads them to bury their half written journals and messily sketched paintings. It is what forces them to grip the few pieces of their memories close, cradling their dreams like the most precious of treasures. Long fluttering scarves and cloaks, flowing fabrics that hide the invisible pouches of chiming bells and glimmering scales. Though they carry little on their journey, they can't help but feel an anchor's weight on their shoulders, Atlas heavy. A worthwhile price for the imaginary companions that drive away the loneliness, even if they do still want to feel the steady heartbeat underneath their hands.

Star child, they muse to themselves, it grows more fitting by the year. Stardust in their veins and the world at their fingertips, it is only a matter of time before they will be cradled in the careful coils of their once lost companions, one way or another.

@n0tamused

[pynkhues]

I am very very curious about that tower scene because Sam said in an interview that he didn't think Lestat was at the tower voluntarily--so if Armand put him there, how much of Louis' memory of that scene is accurate? Lestat looks very well put-together for a prisoner, and how is he being kept there? So much about that scene felt intentionally odd (even, and you touched on this in your fic, that Lestat says that he wasn't kept in the room with the corpses/"disappointments", whereas he'd told Louis and Claudia that he was kept in a room with corpses).

I'm really curious too, anon! It definitely feels like one that's going to be revisited, probably in more ways than one given Magnus' tower is such a vital location across The Vampire Lestat, and it makes sense that Sam would say that too given Lestat's not there by choice in the book. Like you said, Armand takes him there after the trial (and pushes him out the window to debilitate him further) and I'm curious as to how much of that the show keeps. They've changed a few elements of that sequence already that I don't think can be reversed - like Claudia's dress ending up with Louis for instance, not Lestat - and the bigger fact of Louis seeing Lestat then at all when in the book Armand tells him Lestat died in the theatre fire even though he knows he didn't).

You're right though that it's an odd scene, both between how good Lestat looked (but then Louis' memories of how he looked at the trial too were coloured by other emotions given the revisited scenes at the end showed how unwell he actually looked) and that change in what Lestat tells Louis about where he was kept in Magnus' tower feels pointed given 2.08 spends quite a bit of time pointing out its own deliberate inconsistencies with s1 moments.

I think like a lot of these scenes, Louis' memory of it will be a partial truth, but it lacks the context that we have (and he now, at least, has some of). I also kiiind of imagine Lestat and Armand are probably talking to each other too with the mind link in that scene, but obviously we're not privvy to if that's happening or what it might entail yet.

I can't wait to see what they do with it.

[inafieldofdaisies]

Either 1. In hand holding or 50. In touching for John x Sabrina :3

50. Putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up / Prompt from this post.

Minutes ticked by where Sabrina found herself wide awake and unable to shake off the stress caused by the dinner Joseph had insisted on. Beside her, John was fast asleep, and after trying and failing to follow suit, she lifted his arm off her waist and got up. She quietly tiptoed over to the door leading to his bedroom's balcony, slipping on the shirt he was wearing earlier that night and stepped outside after a final look in his direction while he instinctively felt around the sheets in his sleep, no doubt searching for her. A sigh escaped her when the cool air hit her bare legs and she leaned over the railing as she took a deep breath, willing for the heavy feeling in her chest to subside. Her eyes initially focused on the moon and how it peeked inbetween the gathered clouds, then moved down to the dark tree line and faint lights in the distance before eventually shifting to the set of patio chairs by the side door of the house. To her surprise, one of them wasn't empty as expected, instead she could make out the faint outline of a woman wearing a white dress lounging in it, the overhead lights on the porch making her fair hair stand out as she stared off at the greenery surrounding the ranch. If it wasn't for the knowledge that they had a guest staying over, Sabrina would have described the sight as ethereal, concerning to a degree and slightly reminiscent of the youngest member of the Seed family, Faith. The decision for Mercedes, as she had introduced herself to her, or Mercy, as everyone else kept calling her, to spend the night there instead of returning to the Compound with Joseph was made last minute. She was the woman 'The Father' kept looking at throughout dinner as she led the conversation and charmed everyone with her easygoing personality.

The woman whose existence Faith refused to acknowledge from the moment she stepped a foot in the house, instead choosing to embrace 'John's Deputy' and whisper to her how she had always wanted to have another female around. "We will be just like sisters.", she had added with a small laugh while twirling a lock of her hair. The woman that as John insisted was strongly despised by Jacob, yet Sabrina had seen otherwise when her fork decided to take an embarrassing dive under the table. The signs were there, no matter how much the Seeds refused to admit it. After the tense and frankly strange evening, she couldn't help but wonder how they found no issue in having a feast while the County did its hardest to overthrow them. She took somewhat of a comfort in the fact Mercedes at least seemed to be struggling with something as well and maybe wasn't as unbothered as the rest if she was sitting outside at such late hour. The time passed in silence only filled by the low buzzing of insects around the house, then as Sabrina finally talked herself into heading back inside, a sight below stopped her in her tracks. She squinted her eyes, trying to better make out the dark figure that had passed through the trees as unease took over her system in anticipation of potential danger. "I thought you left.", Mercedes' voice carried over, taking a strange note when she addresses the man that had emerged from the shadows. "I did. Then I changed my mind halfway to the Whitetails.", Jacob eventually uttered out as he remained standing up and a couple of feet away from her, hands stuck in his jeans pockets. "Why? And you can sit down, you know. I will be on my best behavior, brother.", she said slowly, adding a bite to the last word that made her sound nothing like 'Mercy'. "Do we have to talk about you using that word again, Mercedes?", his tone was full of warning when he finally lowered himself in the chair next to hers. "No, I'm just pulling your leg, though, I certainly enjoyed the last time we had to.", a laugh left Mercedes just as footsteps sounded behind Sabrina. "You're going to catch a cold, Deputy.", John called out way too loudly, and plastered his body to hers. Before she could think better of it, she spun around and cupped a hand over his mouth, effectively muffling his next sentence. He stared down at her in amusement as he gripped the railing and caged her in between his arms, seeming completely oblivious to the two people below them and how close he had gotten to drawing their attention. Sabrina rose on her tip-toes, breath fanning over his skin when she whispered in his ear, "Don't talk. Just…listen." His nod made her remove her hand from his mouth and he grasped it in his, bringing it back to his lips to place a kiss to her palm. "So, you missed me?", Mercedes remarked playfully, causing John's eyes to widen as Sabrina faced forward again and snuggled into his body and the warmth it was offering her. "No, I just felt like trekking back to the ranch for no reason. What do you think, sweetheart?" Jacob's question was loaded, and it seemed like his younger brother was holding his breath as he waited for a response to it. "I think I'm going back to bed.", Mercedes got out of her seat and came to a brief stop in front of him as she added, "Are you coming too or planning on camping out in the woods?" Jacob held her gaze in silence for a couple of beats, then stood up too, the side door of the ranch slamming shut behind them as he followed her in. "What did I just witness, Deputy?", John muttered out quietly, no doubt shaken by the new revelation. Sabrina swiveled around again, smirking his way when she whispered, "Do you believe me now?"

[lady-grace-pens]

Hey writers

Has anyone else ever had this thing when they’ve been between projects for a while and haven’t been writing much, and they’re getting antsy for something new? And they have ideas they like, but they like. Literally just got them. Like a week ago. Or just yesterday.

And planning take a while. A lot of time and energy. You can’t really force it even though you try. So now you’re in this weird messed up grey area where you’re excited but absolutely terrified of starting something new. And you’re also being extra hard on yourself because you have to make it perfect, it has to click immediately, otherwise you feel useless simply resting and not being creative/productive. So you tend to obsess over planning to the point of anxiety, which only makes you stress out more and feeds this negative cycle. But you have passion for the ideas, you do, and you want to work on them. But you stress yourself out so easily because you’re so antsy and you haven’t had a project in a while.

Anyone else get that?

[mariatesstruther]

For the WIP game:

You've got me intrigued with the "maria and ellie" fic. Do you have a snippet? Is it canon compliant or an AU?

Also, I don't see the Christmas fic?!?!?! Maybe because you don't consider it a WIP yet because I know you've been sick.

I hope you're feeling better 💜

hello ameera 🥰🥰🥰 tysm, i am feeling better 🫶🏾

im glad you’re intrigued with this one! i was actually just working on this! i do have a draft, although very unedited because i’m terrible and don’t autocapitalize when i’m drafting, so be warned. it is a show/canon-compliant fic (haven’t decided if it’s a one-off or maybe the start to a whole mariaellie thing) in which ellie and maria have a meaningful one-on-one sometime shortly after ellie and joel get back, right after the end of tlou 1. i just really wanted a fic centered around the beginnings of the relationship between these two, especially addressing their conversation about joel from 1x06, because ive rewatching tlou2 gameplay and got struck by how close they seemed pre-joel’s death. i think plot-wise, it could also be an interesting start to a story about ellie finding her place in jackson under a mentorship program maria is piloting to help newcomers get acclimated to jackson. in this au, i’d imagine maria would want to mentor ellie, but ellie would need some serious convincing. here’s some snippets, i hope the it’s not too rough!

joel sending ellie to talk to maria:

“youre just too pussy to go over there and talk to her yourself,” ellie grumps, huffing down onto the couch to start pulling on her converse.

“that may be true,” joel says dryly. he doesnt look up from his stupid fucking carpentry book as he continues, “but i’m sending you anyway. have fun.”

“yeah, yeah, asshole. fuck you.”

“and try to watch your language.”

“oh, my bad! screw you! how’s that?”

-

maria talking to ellie:

“tommy told me yall had a hard time out there,” maria tries, attempting and failing at subtlety. it was always easier to her, both naturally and due to her career, to be more direct—but direct with ellie doesn’t always go well, in her experience. so she tries something different. “and that maybe you didn’t have the best time in school before, so. i get it.”

“yeah, well,” ellie snarks, and maria knows already that subtly isn’t the way to go with her, either. “tommy’s an asshole, and he has a big fucking mouth. you guys should find better shit to do than gossip about me and joel.”

jesus, this kid, maria thinks. the tone of her voice, honestly, is hilarious. despite herself maria barks out a laugh. “i have a feeling, ellie, that maybe you and i have the wrong impression of each other.”

“you mean you have the wrong impression of joel.”

“maybe,” maria says, which she can tell is more than ellie was expecting. “i admit, i have a lot of unresolved… feelings, i can say, about joel. i’m working on them. i’d prefer if we could focus this conversation on you and me.”

ellie seems uncomfortable at the prospect, shifting in her chair and fiddling with her long sleeves in her lap. “there isn’t really a you and me to think about.”

“there can be, if you’d like,”

“not if there’s shit between you and joel,”

“how i feel about joel has no bearings on how i’m going to treat you, ellie, and he knows that.”

“but it should. it has to. he’s my—“ ellie stops herself suddenly, cheeks going red and jaw locking in familiar tween-aged embarrassment. “he’s mine.”

“he is. and tommy’s mine.” maria decides to respond in the same way, putting things into ellie’s terms instead of her own, as juvenile as those terms sound to her ears. she’s realizing now, frankly, that this girl is quite the master at leading conversations, whether she realizes it or not. maria can’t help but wonder if it’s something she got from joel. “but they’re also each other’s, whether we like it or not. can we both agree on that?”

“i guess.”

“then it seems to stand to reason that we’ll be quite present in one another’s lives, right? whether we like it or not?”

ellie doesn’t seem to respond too well to the rhetorical questions, immediately bristling at maria’s leading on. “don’t fucking patronize me.”

“i’m not trying to, ellie. i’m trying to propose a proposition to you.”

-

thats’s what i’m giving for now! and i do have the xmas fic on my wip list, i just don’t have much drafted to post, at this point. it’s been hard to do anything this week on account of being sick, but i’m feeling better and writing more this week! hopefully i’ll have something soon, but i’m going to knock out the few wips i have on ao3 first.

@bumblepony ur ask is coming next bae i totally forgot i had one more thing to add to my catching fire au before i move to mockingjay!