#im considering releasing this version

[noctlas332]

im a huge utau fake and i dont know what resamplers are but heres a little of the new utau im working on

"oh noctlas332 shouldnt you be finishing your one million mayo cover wips, or the oto for their new vb, or literally anything else other than making an inanimate utau" i know,, i know,, trust me i know,,, i will get there,,,,, but for the moment, tepu,,,,,,,,

[geddy-leesbian]

cryptic spoiler for what im writing rn

[bixiaoshi]

never getting into an ongoing otoge again in my life

[jal-the-jinxed]

wondering if I want to keep Sailor Moonaan a one shot or be unhinged and make it a deadass series

[carbonfiction]

what would logan or franks reaction be to their s/o starting the pill😏😏😏*wink wink*

Ooooh anon this is a fantastic question <3

Now, in my mind i feel like they would both have very different reactions so let me walk ya through..

Warnings: obviously mentions of unprotected sex, the pill, creampies, pregnancy risk and allll that fun stuff. Smige of breeding kink? Mention of animal instincts?? (I got on a feral little soap box im sorry) swearing, plus a lil mention of franks child loss? Idk if it really needs tagging since its a tiny mention?

Starting with Logan, (And this goes for most versions however heavvvvy on trilogy) i feel he would immediately become a little more... Possessive? Even feral? If you started the pill for whatever reason.

Especially when it came to sex; you'd both gotten used to protection and even the pull out method (sometimes you just needed to feel each other raw and god.. How could either of you protest when it just feels so good)

You being on the pill would 1000% send his little pushed down animal instincts into overdrive then. Suddenly he's filled with the need to breed you in some way; to stake a claim even. practically scenting you, pawing and grabbing twice as much whenever your close. Even if you didnt tell him straight away; he can smell the shift. Pick up the way your hormones change and adapt.

And boy the first time you give him the freedom to cum wherever he wants in bed? Not a drop is going to waste. There is not a single moment when he even considers pulling out; not anymore. The sight of your plush pussy leaking with him? His cum pearly and threatening to drip out of you? Ohhh logan is gone. He is a man possessed (frankly couldn't care less in the moment if he did knock you up with the stuff he says)

Not only is he cooing in your ear about how perfect you feel around him bare; but offering a glimpse of that possessive, animalistic nature. Hes gonna fuck you full, no questions asked. Grunting and growling against your neck as he looses track of his mouth.

"Gonna cum princess, fuck you full where it should be, getcha all swollen hm?" "i know.. I know.. Poor pussys just begging me for it" "such a perfect girl takin my cock like this, almost begging to make me a daddy" "thatttttt's it, you just take it.. Let me get that pretty body pumped full'a my cubs."

-...-....-....-...-...--...-....-....-...-...--...-....-....-...-...-

Whereas for Frank? For Frank i personally feel its very different.

Infact, at the start he's almost daunted at the implication. In his mind theres a seed of doubt; a little nagging 'what if' in the back of his head ingrained. 'what if something happens? if he gets you pregnant?'

Because lets face it, He's done the kids thing; hes done the loosing kids thing too. And theres just somthing about the idea of letting himself release inside that just.. Brings that all back in a strange way.

Even when Frank knows how generally reliable these things are now, even when hes grilled your doctor about it to be certain. Theres a nagging little memory of the days of him and Maria he just cannot seem to shift.

So I feel like with that in mind it would actually take him a while to get comfortable with the idea; to see that you aren't going to wake up one morning knocked up.

But once he does get comfortable? It certainly becomes a way for him to sort of.. Further? The intimacy of sex? A hand on your jaw, another on your hip keeping your body close. A way for him to almost confirm that you are his and he his yours, that your it for each other, without having to explicitly do the talking.

Thats not to say hes not cooing in your ear either though, because he is. However Frank is offering praise, and worship rather than for filling a breeding instinct you know?

"So fuckin perfect ain't ya sweetheart" "atta girl..takin my cock so good" "gonna make me cum sweetheart, feel so good you know that?" "shh, shh i know, I've gotcha, just let it go.." "my girl, my gorgeous girl.. Mine"

Hopefully those are a good answer and i absolutely lovvvve talking about these guys so asks are always more than open for anything at all!! I am always willing to yap <3

[steph-fangirl]

Corroded Coffin making it big after touring with Metallica, but at this point they’re basically immune to being starstruck ever again (because…well, they’ve toured with Metallica) so they’re pretty chill around famous people.

Fast forward to an award show a couple months later, Eddie brings Steve, Steve brings Robin and while Eddie just mostly stays at their table chatting away with Jeff and James, Steve and Robin get drunk and go absolutely ballistic.

Running around, stealing bread from all the other tables, and doing shots with everyone who’s willing to put up with their antics. At some point Steve comes up to Eddie, hands on his shoulders, excited and giddy and tells him, „Hey Eds, I just talked to Rick Astley! He’s such a nice guy. Robin told him he should release a negative version of his song and just sing ‘then im gonna give you up, then im gonna let you down’ and he actually seemed to consider it as an April Fool’s joke or something.”

And Eddie just looks at him, an amused, fond smile on his lips, says, “that’s great, baby, m’glad you’re having fun“ and presses a kiss to Steve’s neck, before turning around again, resuming his conversation with Kirk about about a song idea.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Question about deathbed: i havent seen much about it yet but what ive seen doesnt make it sound very...fun to be alive in that world and that its like influenced by practices of the christian church during the middle ages and stuff like that, so im wondering how that would affect being able to even really play a woman being badass in that game?

Is it basically hardmode difficulty if you wanna play a woman?

I have two answers to this.

First is that in Death Bed, a woman can be badass. I’ll demonstrate by making Herr Rike, an old literary and AD&D character of mine, in Death Bed. @thepleasuregoblin @ashweather and @umbraldame can attest that she is just about the most believably badass person there is. (Despite the title of “Herr,” she is a woman and always has been. Well she’s female, technically she isn’t human and in her setting “woman” is a human-specific term while other sapient species have their own terms for genders but you get the point.)

(art by @chaospyromancy)

I’m not gonna go through this very granularly because in Death Bed most stats are rolled, start out very low, and then are upgraded one at a time by level-ups. But over the course of building her stats up to where they should be to represent her I would focus on Agility, Scripture, Dexterity, Vigor, Strength, Endurance, Arcane, and Attunement from highest to lowest in that order.

For Traits, I would get her

(this is a men-only Trait, and also one I will probably nerf before final release, but a female character can still take it, at a price.)

(she isn't actually humble, but the effect of this Trait fits her personality.)

(note the sidebars in this one)

(in no particular order)

I might also consider giving her Gentleman (Men only.) but at the moment in the game’s unfinished state that Trait has an unclear interaction with Lady.

Yes, she does have both men-only and women-only Traits, that’s allowed, it just reduces her Social Status. I rolled it and at the end of all those Traits she still has a Social Status of 27, which is fairly high.

Social Status is a stat representing how respectable the character is by the standards of 1400s society. It determines who gets to talk down to and degrade who. What the higher Social Status character says goes, and if this pecking order is challenged, that tends to distress people.

Characters who have Traits which fall outside their perceived gender suffer a debuff to Social Status, because that’s just how it was back then. Hell, that’s how it is today.

So she could kill monsters and shit with a sword just fine, the worst she would get is maybe the occasional weird look, especially since, in the Middle Ages, it was irregular but not strictly forbidden for women to practice martial arts. The super strict sex-segregation of martial arts was way more of a Renaissance and onward thing.

Now for the second answer.

A lot of what our cultural idea of what is “cool” and “badass” is extremely masculine-favoring. And while yes, swords and armor and violence are cool and badass, (I’m not immune to thinking that the things knights do is cooler than the things their wives do.) a lot of “feminist” or “egalitarian” or otherwise “pro-women” media that is historically set ends up having the message “This woman is badass and cool because she’s.. like a man, unlike those other lameass women who are like women.”

It ends up being the medieval version of that action movie trope that goes like

Male Lead: (pleasantly surprised) “You know how to fight and be badass?”

Female Lead: *racks shotgun* “I grew up with 7 brothers and so I had to learn how to play rough and played army instead of Barbie dolls and I didn’t have a mother and my ex-special-forces dad taught me how to fight starting at a young age. All that masculinity helped me grow up to be cool and tough woman instead of a boring helpless stupid woman.”

instead of, like, celebrating the other 99% of women in that time period who just did woman stuff.

Death Bed allows you to make a character that is a woman but effectively fills the social roles of a man such as killing stuff with a sword*(which is something just about every other TTRPG on the planet also allows), and it allows you to make a character that is a woman and fills all the more normal social roles of a woman while still being a very valuable asset to the party both in and out of combat (and Death Bed has a lot of “out of combat” stuff going on. It’s a classic dungeon crawler, which involves a good amount of combat, but is not purely combat and a party needs plenty of characters who are focused on other things if they want to survive.)

*and again, this wasn’t even something women were strictly barred from doing at the time.

Fencing Master: (Men only. +1 Social Status.) This struggler has +1 Scripture, +1 Strength, +1 Dexterity, and +1 Agility. Additionally, upon gaining this Trait, give him any three Weapon Special Attribute Masteries, selected at random from those he does not already have. Additionally, reduce his Hollowness by 1 each time he gains a new Special Weapon Attribute Mastery. However, this struggler must make a Despair roll any time his martial technique is called into question or disrespected, unless he proves himself. If he attempts to prove himself and fails, he must take an added instance of disadvantage to this Despair roll. He must also make a Despair roll each time his weapon is reduced in Maintenance Rating as a result of a failed attack roll. 

Additionally, this struggler gains 2x the EXP from engagements in which he fights alone without allies. 

Frightening Demeanor: (+1 Social Status.) So long as this struggler is not a non-combatant, apply a -1 to this struggler’s Attention each time their Attention is increased. However, apply an added instance of disadvantage to their reaction rolls. 

Humble: (+0 Social Status.) This struggler’s good nature is a bulwark to disrespect. They gain an added instance of Advantage to any despair rolls related to disrespect. They gain an additional added instance of advantage to any despair roll related to disrespect from characters of lower Social Status. 

Lady: (Women only. +3 Social Status.) This struggler has an added +3 to Scripture,[1] and an instance of advantage on reaction rolls. However, she must take an added instance of disadvantage to any Despair roll resulting from being disrespected by a man or woman of lower social standing, and must make a Despair roll up to once per Scene in which she is not wearing fine women’s clothing.[2][3]

[1. Sidebar] Literacy was considered the domain of noblewomen, clergy, and scribes.

[2. Sidebar] This Trait does not require the struggler to be a non-combatant. Though it was unorthodox for them to participate directly in battle, women of noble standing were not barred from martial training. In fact, a nobleman’s wife was expected to command his levies in battle should their home be attacked while he is away.

[3. Sidebar] Wearing fine women’s clothing does not preclude the wearing of most armor, so long as the visibly feminine elements are preserved.

Additionally, up to once per Scene, this struggler gains 100 EXP if she goes the entire Scene without getting her shoes or dress muddy, wet, or otherwise dirty. [gains EXP from reading literature or eating fine food and drinking fine wine? Figure this out.]

Paranoid: (-1 Social Status.) This struggler has an added instance of advantage to Agility rolls to avoid triggered traps, and, once per Hourglass, the player of this struggler can ask that the Narrator reveal to their struggler any and all traps in a room or general surrounding area and the Narrator will do so. However, they must make a Despair roll if they ever accidentally trigger a trap, or if anyone ever startles them such as by walking up behind them or waking them from their sleep.

Also, when the Narrator makes a wandering monster roll, the player of this struggler may ask that the result be revealed to them, but if they do so, this struggler makes a Despair roll.

Up to once per Scene, this struggler gains 10 EXP for being right about the dangers that lurk nearby.

Sharp Tongue: (+0 Social Status.) This struggler’s quick tongue and quicker wit allow them to wind around any social slight with the agility of a skilled fencer. At this struggler’s choice, they can cause the object of their ridicule either an added instance of advantage or an added instance of disadvantage to any Despair rolls related to disrespect from this struggler. Either advantage or disadvantage is doubled if their words are actually said in dialogue or at least summarized and the Narrator deems their remark sufficiently clever.

Tactician: (+1 Social Status.) Once per engagement, this struggler can bark out a specific order to an ally with a Social Status up to 3 degrees higher than their own, or any degree lower.[1] If the ally they are ordering complies, that ally gains an instance of Advantage to the next 3 rolls that carrying out that order may entail. However, if the ally refuses or fails to carry out this order, then this struggler must make a Despair roll. If the ally dies as a result of attempting to carry out this order, then this struggler must make a Despair roll with an instance of Disadvantage.

[1. Sidebar] This can be done even if this struggler is a non-combatant.

Additionally, this struggler gains 5 EXP for each successful roll on the aforementioned next 3 rolls made by their ally complying with their orders. 

[s-4pphics]

soul ties. part I (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: a product of brokenness. WORD COUNT: 13.4K WARNINGS: ellie’s a painter/art dealer, heavy angst[oc is suicidal and has dissociative episodes + abusive parents/SEXUAL ABUSE(nothing explicitly written but aluded to) + patriarchy/men being predatory/traditionalist households + mentions of cheating + alcoholism + disordered eating/self-harm(cuticle picking) + thoughts of murder + mommy issues/daddy issues + parental grief + homophobia + more patriarchy but with dykes + unhealthy relationships with sex(coping) + brief mention of masturbation + sexual tension + making out + fondling + slapping + DUBCON + just matching freaks to avoid trauma], miscommunication, just 2 socially inept crash outs lol  A/N: hellloo lol. fixed plot bc im venting… s been a very rough few months. i was convinced i lost my very acute skill so uhhh consider this a test. uhh what else… idk when i’ll be back bc im now a piano player #NEWFOUNDESCAPISM LOL.  suggestion: this technically could b read alone but if u care ab context read this first. then this. that is all LOL byeee :p hi taggies we back: @dyk3ang3l @acidblum @mellifluousgirll @elliesatchel @callmewhenyoukan @natgf123 @elliesstella @spaceforescape @floridaopal @lonelyfooryouonly @ellies-converse @amiorca @darkerstarsstuff

fuck the bitch that made this game.  dont buy his shit.

aid links from my inbox: one, two, three, four

What to do, what to do… 

Ellie is a wreck. An agitated, craving, mess. 

What to do… Love your wife, fuck the daylights out of your wife, kill your wife before she kills you… What to do… 

It can’t be that hard to hide a body. Is it still murder if it’s self-defense? Ellie’s sure the next bath you run for her will either be filled with bleach or result in her being forced underwater until she’s lifeless. There are lots of people willing to get their hands dirty for her if that’s the case. Not a trace of you or her would be left and she’d finally be able to escape with only the clothes on her back. The weightlessness in her pockets wouldn’t move her in any way. Nothing compares to freedom. What a suffocating life she lives. 

The guest room mattress becomes less and less plush every time she lays in it. The sheets are itchier and cold and she’s stuck pondering with each swirl of the ceiling fan, wet hair wrapped in a bath towel; restless, fidgety, and honey-like ache in the pit of her stomach, mind warped with lecherous thoughts of her wife that she despises but not as much, her supposed life partner and fuck, how did you two get here…

Stuck with a tension so thick it permeates your home; if you’d even call it that. You’re both successfully trapped between your own walls; Elegant windows take the place of rusted, metal bars that confine you from the life you both dreamed of before all this; one soft and doting and colorful, one where your light isn’t dulled. 

Why does she feel so guilty, suddenly? You’re not lovers, and neither in love, so why does her chest ache with every glance she steals when you’re unassuming? The pain that’s always etched on your face, and if not, in your eyes — fills her with regret. She would abandon you for days — weeks at a time, not at all concerned about what you might be experiencing to rid herself of shame. And to think that you were merely a younger version of your mother; villainous and cruel and greedy when… when you’ve barely spoken. She finds herself, unfortunately, reminiscing on how bushy-tailed you were after marriage. So eager to please and prick her mind and annoyingly mechanical. You cooked at the same time everyday. Cleaned, did both your laundry, sunbathed, swam in your pool. She hated how rehearsed your lifestyle was; it reminds her of the worst parts of her childhood. When her mother was alive. So, Ellie chose to step out on you the second you took her last name; ravaged other women, released her anger and desires on strangers when she should’ve had you beneath, above, on your knees for her. Where has that craving to harm you gone? For months, she’s ached for your suffering to mirror hers, but now… What’s happening to her? What’s happened to you? 

Ellie believes you’ve lost it, and somehow she’s found herself chasing that unforeseen part of you; unfiltered and angry and wild. This manufactured doll your mother molded you into is shattering at the core and Ellie craves to see more of you. Guilty. As hurt as you were, that night was the most alive she’s seen you be. You shouted and cried and tore at the seams, desperate for someone to hear you, and Ellie did. Loud and clear. She saw you for what you are. Mangled from the inside out, entirely hopeless. Just like she is. An unspeakable link that binds the two of you.

Soul ties. 

She shook and pleaded for you to enter the bathroom and see her battered against the shower wall with a hand between her legs and your name dripping from her lips, but the knob never twisted. Her orgasms were unsatisfactory, and she accepted with irritation that it was because you weren’t there. She ignored the throbbing between her legs and vacated the bathroom. Ellie, with legs that trembled, found you wrapped in satin and snoring. They sounded like whistles. 

She stood for a while, just watching you twitch and wiggle in your rest, eyes glazing to the space beside you that could easily fit another body. The sheets are already warm from where you lay. The two of you have never slept in the same room, let alone bed. 

Her feet carried her out. Silently left the room with an unfamiliar ache in her chest. 

Her mind made an enemy out of you because that’s what you are. When she thought her life couldn’t get any worse, you appeared and destroyed everything in her path. Left her world in ruins. Disrupted her pattern. You’re an enemy and deserve to hurt. 

Aren’t you? Don’t you? 

Everything is unclear. Ellie hasn’t been this conflicted since she was 15. She wishes she could sleep forever so she wouldn’t be forced to think. 

If she had any sense left, she would paint her agony away. In the past, her mind would shut down with every splash of color on a canvas to compensate for the darkness that conjured in her mind. She refrains from that now, though. She’s horny; scared she’ll start imagining what your pussy looks like and sketch it all over the bedroom walls. That’d be too much; a boundary that will remain untouched.

But her brain knows she’s not a good person; she can’t help but imagine how gorgeous your pussy is because you are and she’s known that since the beginning, the second she saw you drenched in white. Drenched in sorrow. 

She clutches your wedding band in her palm. 

What to do… what to do… 

Birds are artists. 

They never fail to sing every morning; sonnets aimed to awaken life as sun rays spill from behind mountains. You've always appreciated their tunes whenever you were pulled from a hollow rest, no longer surrounded by darkness. 

Maybe it was the routine your mother set for you from young. You were 9 when she first coddled your drowsiness as she shook you awake at five in the morning; the early bird catches the worm, a saying you naively assumed as preparation for the day, for your homeschooling. An energy booster, possibly. Motivation. Something to get you through. 

How stupid could a child be? 

You were 12 when your cycle started. You were 12 when you realized that your mother never envisioned actual birds and worms like you had. Your mother has games she plays and she cheats. She’s had you on a leash for the past decade; the scars around your neck are forever a reminder of the hell you’ve endured under her hand. It took no effort on her part to be uncaring of your suffering, and somehow that aches more than anything else. 

Even more than the existence of him. A demon walking.

Animals aren’t like your family. Birds aren’t. The minute specks of sunlight begin, their job starts, and they complete it happily without compensation or praise or the slightest acknowledgment. Everyone wakes, and they fly to anywhere to wake the next. 

But wealth is dirty. Wealth makes people dirty. They swindler and lie and experience life with a vacancy that’ll never be filled with anything but greed. Your mother trained you for years to accept whatever was given as long as you were taken care of. Play your part, she’d say. It took you years to learn her strategy — and unlearn yourself — but you’re here. Married. Successful by association. Rich. Unhappy. Unloved. 

Birds guided you. They never shy from their duty, and you hadn’t either… 

But you’re human. You crack and cry and scream and you hate. You despise so strongly that you lash out and everything in your path becomes victimized. Sometimes it gets to a point where you crave blood. You want to drown in it, drink it until you’re sick. Your soul is dead. Everyones’ should die with yours. 

You don’t know who should go first. Your mother, your stepfather, or your wife. 

You want to swallow Ellie whole—

“Good morning.” 

You’ve never seen Ellie not dolled up. She clearly just awakened with her wrinkled MILFS ONLY shirt and sporadic hair. Timidity doesn’t suit Ellie. You're so used to seeing her exasperated. Her weary eyes don’t meet yours. You should tell her your plans to adopt a hummingbird. Or maybe you shouldn’t. She might laugh at you.

“Hello.” 

“… Hi.” She seems like she wants to say something. You sip your coffee. 

“My dad called.” 

You hum around the rim of your mug. “Woke you up?” 

She merely shrugs. “I uh… did anyone tell you about tomorrow?” 

“Of course not.” 

You don’t expect Ellie to flinch at your tone. You weren’t that sharp, were you?

You might’ve been because she slows her speech. Like she’s approaching a wounded animal, “Dad’s hosting a dinner. Corporate bullshit but we have to go.” 

“Why.” 

She squints at you. “Why what.” 

“Why do we have to go.” Your mug lands on the table harder than expected. 

“To make mommy and daddy look good.” She sneers while approaching her seat, “Did you forget?” 

“I just thought they wouldn’t want two dykes contaminating their spaces anymore.” 

Ellie snorts. “They don’t. Companies do. Gets their cocks hard. Two gay daughters, how progressive!” She mocks and plops on the chair directly across from you, wiping at her eyes. Your throat dries when you notice her wedding band. She hardly ever wears it. You don’t know where you left yours. Since when does she care to wear it? “They’ll do anything they can to get on their good side. They’re… merging organizations or whatever the fuck he said.” 

She swallows. Shrugs uncaringly, “We going?” Her eyes watch your hands squeeze your mug. 

“Are we.” 

She regards your cup with caution. Does she think you’ll throw it? The thought nearly makes you laugh. 

“Yes.” She answers. 

“Okay.” 

Your wife finally looks up and stands, nose upturned, “Okay? That’s all you got?” 

“Yes. Okay.” You sip silently. Your foot taps on hardwood. 

“Excited to see your family? You like ‘em now?” 

Excited is laughable. 

“No, I don’t.” 

The sudden calamity from your wife confuses you. She tugs at the strands that flop on her head in agitation. They look soft as they bounce with her pacing. You’ll never feel them. Or you might later. Who knows with her. Who knows with you. 

Ellie’s still talking. Her arms flail like she’s annoyed by you. You’re not sure why. You’re following. You’re allowing her to guide. To control. That’s the entire point of this. That’s why you’re going to dinner with her. She told you to go and that’s it. 

Play your part play your part play yo—

You don’t remember much of anything; the past, the present, but you recall what Ellie sounds like when she’s angry, whether it’s at you, her father, the woman her father is fucking or married to or whatever. If you’d listen, you’ll discover what ticked her off, but your ears ring too loud. Much louder than her screaming. 

You sip your coffee silently. Ellie leaves you at the dining table with a slam of a door. 

You think it’s the first floor’s guest room. 

The sun sets. Ellie can’t remember the last time she’s been home this long. 

She hates the weekends. The gallery is never open and she can’t drown herself in deals. She hates being home when you are. Why the fuck are you always here? You don’t have friends, a job, a life outside of this goddamn house? There’s a sinking in her stomach at the thought of your isolation, but she ignores it. Tries to ignore it.

… Can’t really ignore it. How pestering. You’re a pest. 

She knows nothing about you, only bits of your past expressed through photographs at your mother’s or outbursts in your bedroom. Your stepfather is fucking creepy and your mother’s glare is killer, but that’s about it. Still, she doesn’t think she can hate your parents more than you. 

You’re so fucking weird. Just like them. Unforgiving and unchaste one day then apathetic the next. How the fuck can one communicate with a person like that? 

That feeling in her chest again. Sharp and annoying. Try try try, it says. Begs from her. 

Try and do what? Do fucking what—

It took Ellie 3 seconds to unlock the guest room door and fly down the stairs when a crash rings from the first floor. Glass clatters and you sound in pain and oh fuck did someone break in

There’s red all over the kitchen floor but it’s not blood it’s red wine. Red wine red wine it’s not blood— 

You’re on the kitchen floor surrounded by green shards and dressed so pretty. Hair coiled and free and your face is done up and you’re wearing flowers. There’s flowers all over and your skin shines and why do you have heels on like a play doll?

Ellie palms at the scattered racing of her heart. Everything’s fine, her brain blares, She tripped, that’s it. Clears her throat. Rustles her hair to appear normal. 

She’s not dead. 

“… You good?” 

An unsteady hand rises to throw her a thumbs up. Your body wobbles when you attempt to stand. Ellie ushers to the counter to slide on her slippers, tells you to stop when your palm nearly plants on a shard. 

“Move back before you hurt yourself.” Ellie takes a quick lap around the kitchen for the broom and dustpan. Finds you just as quickly so you don’t accidentally slice an artery. 

Your lashes flutter and her heart follows suit, taking in the mess. “I think I fucked up.” You croak.

Hearing you curse is always odd. She huffs, “It’s fine. Can you stand?” 

Your head shakes and your bottom lip juts. “My… my shoes…”

You slowly plop onto your bottom and rest your back against the dishwasher. You struggle to grip your buckles to pull and slide the strap and Ellie remembers why she hates heels. She sweeps the glass away from you and realizes she should’ve mopped first because the bristles are soaked and streaking the clean parts of the crystal porcelain. When was the last time she cleaned? The maids always do. Sometimes you help. 

You look stunned when Ellie moves to squat in front of you. Jumps back when she adjusts your ankle. 

Her palms hang in surrender, “I’m gonna help you. Relax. Do your knees hurt?” 

You landed right on them. They should. You don’t disarm, eyes guarded and body locked tight, but you shrug. It’s good enough for Ellie. 

She unravels the buckles around both your ankles and tosses them next to you and you just watch. Ellie’s glances are quick and flitting, but she follows the traces of her hands; the sharp inhales whenever her fingers brush against the skin of your leg. You’re not as close as you were last night but she can smell you. Her chest is throbbing. You look like you’re about to cry but you’re drunk. It’s meaningless. Drunk people cry. 

Try try try try 

“Can you stand now?” She croaks. 

It takes a second for you to register her inquiry, but you shrug, and she sighs. When Ellie stands, both her hands extend out to you, but you don’t accept them; She gets jittery under your scrutinizing gaze after nearly a minute passes. Her throat dries and her face burns when you brush her hands away; standing on your own is an unstable journey, but you do, back against the counter to stabilize yourself. You look ill. Your brain must be jumbled. 

“Can you get upstairs on your own?” 

“You talk a fucking lot. Shut up.”  

The corner of Ellie’s mouth rises, but she says nothing. Gives you space to move. 

You take one step, then two more, then your eyes shut and your throat jumps. Uh oh.

“Oh shit, come—“

Ellie guides you to the garbage can near the front of the counter, away from the glass, and you dry heave. Liquid splatters inside the can and Ellie hates this so fucking much. The sounds are enough to make her own stomach lurch. It’s been a while since she’s been around someone this drunk. 

But she holds your waist so you don’t faceplant into your own vomit. 

“Get it out,” She hums with a grimace, “You’re fine.” An I gotcha almost rolls off her tongue but she catches it. She glides a comforting hand over your curved spine because you’re drunk and you won’t remember such gestures in the morning. She prefers it that way. 

You’re not gagging anymore so Ellie removes herself from you. Until she hears a whimper. And a sob so quiet she assumes you’re trying to mask it. Drunk people cry; she’s seen it countless times. Why does that seering feeling spark in her chest for what felt like the billionth time today? Fucking try, for fucks sake! 

“Let’s… let’s get you—“

“I wish I was dead.” 

Your prayer is hollow. Not even sad despite your tears. So, so empty. Ellie’s seen this before, experienced that nothingness countless times, but despite it all, she never learned how to console. Hell, she barely knows how to self-soothe without falling victim to her dark temptations. Even her paint brushes can’t eliminate the constant ache she feels. She just watches the tremble of your shoulders from behind. 

“I really don’t wanna go tomorrow.” You whisper. 

Ellie sighs. There’s no other choice. You know the stakes; follow your families’ commands or lose everything at the drop of a hat. They’ll leave you both on the streets to rot with no remorse if they please, replace the two of you with two normal children. Het children that won’t deviate. You’re both on thin ice as it is. Mainly because of Ellie. She can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble.

“I…” 

I’ll be with you the entire time. I don’t like being around those cunts either. 

“It’ll go by quickly.” She settles. 

“I hate when p-people look at me.” 

“Me too.” 

“I wish my family loved me.” 

Ellie’s softer now. Only slightly. 

“Yeah…” 

A tug in her ribcage. Try. Please, try. 

“Me too.” 

The pounding beneath your skull wakes you quicker than the birds. You shove your face in the pillow you rest on. 

The devil tells you to check the time so you do. The bedside clock says noon, meaning a new day, meaning it’s Saturday meaning you’ll die. Maybe not physically but mentally. You’re so drained and you’ve barely opened your eyes; the idea of leaving bed alone is enough to exhaust you. Your wrists and legs ache like fucking hell on top of that. 

You make fists with both hands. Repeatedly clench and unclench. The weight is different on your ring finger. Heavier. You haven’t seen your ring since yesterday… or a few days ago — you’re not really sure. You must’ve found it in your drunken stupor. Just when you hoped to never see it again. 

The universe will always remind you who you are. 

If you stand you’ll vomit but your phone is ringing from the drawer you stuck it in weeks ago. How is it not dead? You know your mom’s calling. You hate that she is… 

The ringing stops and you thank the heavens. 

You curse them when it starts up again. 

The drawer slides open with reluctance. The ringing sounds 20 times louder. You retrieve your device blindly and your throat snaps shut when you speak. 

“You rang.” 

“Did your… partner tell you about tonight.” 

Hard and distant. That’s how she speaks to you. Your heart cracks. 

Your mom already knows Ellie did. She loves to bother you with nonsense. You don’t think she’s ever called Ellie your wife. 

“Yes.” 

“You’re attending.” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

“Is that all.” 

“Your gown was delivered here. Come by well before 8 to get ready.” 

And she hangs up. Just like that. Always. She’s never told you to have a nice day, or to rest well, or that she loves you, at the minimum. And if she had, you don’t remember any of it. There’s a lot you force yourself to forget. 

The selfish part of you disregards the burning of your eyes to stare at your phone — low battery and… no messages. No texts, no phone calls from anyone except your mother, no likes on Instagram because your mom scared you into not making one when you were a teenager. No one cares about you. People care about your wife, though. Maybe because she’s talented; she’s certainly not nice. 

Your darkest memories are always the most prominent. 

Your phone drops to the floor and you don’t reach for it. You just pray to sleep again. 

Tonight will be interesting. 

The ride to your mother’s is silent. 

At least she chauffeured the two of you. Ellie can be scary when she drives. You’ve never been in a car with her, but she did ram into a lamppost on the sidewalk a few nights after your wedding. 

Your wife is already dressed despite the party being hours away. She sits right next to you in all black; in a trenchie and turtleneck and slacks and loafers with fur and gold jewelry. When she descended the staircase, you gawked when she wasn’t looking. So simple, but she had your heart fluttering when she’d asked, ready? You’re still in your sleep shorts, teeth unbrushed and starving. When was the last time you ate? 

What an embarrassment — you’re an embarrassment, but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. If only newly wed you could see herself now. 

You swallow a lump when you feel eyes on the side of your face, but yours remain glued out the window. The closer you get to your mom’s, the faster your mind starts to shut down. Everything passes you by in a blur. 

By the time the gates with your father’s initials come into view, your thoughts go silent, only filled with the calming images of nature and the song of birds. Your only escapism. 

The only way you’ll make it out of here in one piece. 

Ellie! Darling! We’ve missed you! Give us a smile! 

Ellie! Ellie, look this way! 

Ellie, where’s your wife? 

She wishes she knew. You’d barely made it into your mother’s home before getting swept down the hall by 4 other people who poked at your appearance. Ellie didn’t even get to give your mom the passive, spine-chilling hi, mom like old times before another SUV came to whisk her away from that hell hole. Her dad always knows somehow. 

She hates being at your mom’s; it’s stifling and quiet and the aura is dark. Like mother, like house or whatever the fuck. 

She scowls when the bombarding questions redirect to you. Some concerning, some sarcastic, some raunchy — those get under her skin in particular — and she can’t stop fiddling with her ring. Her chest tugs tugs tugs. 

Trouble in paradise? 

You were caught leaving the bar with another woman on your arm a few weeks ago! How’d your wife react to that? 

She doesn’t know. She’s never home to see you break. 

Guilt ate at her when the door of your mother’s mansion shut behind her, but she disregards it now. You shouldn’t be forced to listen to their guised jabs; You get enough of that from everyone in your life. She hopes you’ll go through the back entrance when you arrive. 

When will you get here? 

Ellie’s never made an event appearance without you. You’d pose and fidget and display awkward affection so that they’d buy your love a little bit, then enter the gathering as two separate hearts, riddled and torn, never to cross paths until the bustle is over and it’s time to go home. 

Finally, security moves and barricades her until she gets past the 20 foot gate and treads the steps. The flashing cameras are still blinding from behind. 

The tended garden is the first thing she notices. Wide and green. The daisy and rose bushes are no longer tangled with weeds and surrounded by dead grass and gnats. How could Joelene not see that and be vengeful? Ellie and her dad may not be close anymore, but she knows him; maybe even more than he knows himself. He still misses her mom after everything, and chooses to express it through her favorite hiding spot. Keeps the flowers that bloom and trims the ones that don’t so she lives through them. Ellie hardly remembers a time when her mother wasn’t covered in dirty overalls and sunburnt. 

She manages to hold it together when the large double doors open. The violins suddenly sound like nails on wood. 

Voices fade into nothing. People are outside your car. Light hurts so terribly. 

One second you’re here, the next you’re not. Your mom and her husband sit across with twined arms and the lace from your dress is itchy and you wanna disappear. When you blink, you’re gone. You only exist on this plain if your eyes are open. 

Something hard and leather brushes against your ankle, scratches against your stockings, slow and snake-like. You know what it is, who it is, and you freeze, eyes locked onto your mother. No matter your hopelessness, there’s still a young girl in you that wishes your mother would defend, act on anger, be disgusted at minimum. At least when his crimes are done in secret you can’t blame her for not knowing. 

But you’re here and she’s here and he’s here. A shared secret between the three of you. 

His shoe doesn’t halt on your leg. Your mother never looks at you. 

Birds and songs and sonnets. You’re a bird and you can fly against the strongest winds. Music is your guide and you follow the clouds. 

Your fingers twist together in your lap and the black interior of the car glows red. If only… he’s not the only one with sick intentions. If only. 

You’re flying you’re flying you can fly and there’s someone who’ll love you gently. They’re out there somewhere and you’ll find them and they’ll find you like every trial was worth it. 

Patience. That’s all you need. Just be patient. 

The rest of the car ride is unbeknownst to you. Next thing you know, your door is being opened and two men await your entry at the glass door. 

Champagne is good. Tequila is better. The two mixed is hell. 

Ellie’s throat burns and her mind swirls but she plays it off well enough. Mingles with pensive, old bastards while their daughters’ gawk at her with bright-eyed curiosity and you haven’t arrived yet. 

She lost her dad somewhere in the night. He greeted her briefly upon her arrival, pointed out the important men of the night, called your mother a selfish bitch, then walked off with his mistress by his side. Ellie’s eyes keep meeting the back door from the living room. 

Where are you? 

“Ellie!”

She downs the rest of her chute and guards her agitation with a grin. Shakes the hand of… 

What the fuck was this dude’s name? 

“It’s an honor! Your art is incredible! I’ve truly—“

—Fucking Ronald? Reginald? … Ronald might be it—

“—Your father, ya know, he’s an interesting man, incredibly smart! I’ve never—“

Her dad gave her a run-down of the … merging or whatever the fuck but what the fuck did he say and holy shit, is she sweating? The man’s handshake threw her off, frankly; almost snapped her wrist in two. Fucking old piece of shit. More business jargon that she pretends to understand and care so much about because it’s a show after all. All cheers and stiff laughter. 

“And your wife! By God, what a looker!”

Her jaw clenches. Where are you where are you where are you

“What we’d give, I mean, c’mon!” Men that pass laugh with him and it’s taking everything in Ellie not to smash this glass over his head. One quick swing and it’s over. For him and her. How promising.

“Where is she anyway? You two didn’t come together?” 

“She um, she’s with her parents right now. They’ll be here.” She jerks her chin toward the entrance. 

“How lucky are you. Treat her like the star she is!” It looks like the shithead’s leaving, but not before taunting, “Holler when she arrives, will ya?” 

And just like that, he leaves Ellie to simmer. Three deep breaths. A man in a suit and tray filled with champagne waltzes passed her and she snags two glasses. Downs the first in one thick swallow before another clinks with hers. 

Why does everyone keep fucking with her? 

“Cheers.” 

Ellie doesn’t need to look to know who it is. She scoffs. “Sounds like you’re having fun.” 

Jolene stands next to her, shoulders slouched and dress glowing under the chandelier. She arches a dark brow, “Who wouldn’t? Men are the most entertaining when they’re on ego trips.” 

“Same goes for my dad?” She snips, and Jolene shocks her with a smile. 

“Meh.” 

“Why are you here.” 

“I just told you—“

“No, where are you here.” Ellie gestures between them, “Why’re you talking to me right now?” 

Jolene downs her drink and shrugs, “My attempts at bonding. On a scale of 1 to 10, how shit were they?” 

“900. Leave me the fuck alone.” Before Ellie can run, a hand clamps down on her wrist. 

“I know—“ The woman rushes, “I know we don’t have the best relationship, but I’m not—“

Ellie almost corrects her out of pettiness; They don’t have a relationship, period. There’s no best or worst. But her sudden desperation halts her. 

“—the enemy. There’s not a lot for us in these spaces. I just wanted to try and establish something. Anything. Between us. It can be so lonely without a real support system.”

Ellie hates the direction her heart turns her mind. Suddenly you’re there and you’re crying and clawing at your chest and Ellie just watches like she did that night. So powerless. So empty. 

But Jolene isn’t you. She chooses to be selfish. Yours comes from self preservation and nothing else. 

Ellie snatches her hand back and throws her the deadliest stare. “You don’t know shit about being lonely. You’re the one who gave up everything you had to fuck my dad when my mom wasn’t looking. How much did you care about her loneliness then? Hm?” 

The timing was perfect, really. 15 year old Ellie watched her parents get into one of their most abhorrent arguments; her dad leaves first, then her mom, then only one of them returns, and it was not her mother. Imagine her shock when a news reporter confirmed that her mother’s body had been thrown in a garbage bag and left in a dumpster to rot. It only took two weeks to mourn before he was marrying another woman. 

Nobody cared that her mother had been shot or stabbed or gutted. She was just a woman married to a successor who raised a deviant child. 

Ellie forces herself to not point fingers, though. Anyone could’ve killed her, she always reminds herself; to keep her from going fucking crazy. But timing… 

How telling is time. 

Jolene’s eyes widen and her grip weakens. Ellie takes that as an escape before she has a breakdown in front of the caviar platter. 

She barely takes a step before she collides with a body. 

Funny. 

She bumped right into a star that shines a royal blue. The woman of the hour, for sure. In her mind, at least.

“Sorry.” You whisper.

“You’re fine. All me.” Ellie says lowly as she takes you in, and you do the same to her. Shy, but yearnful glances. Glossed lips tightly sealed and brows tense. Your dress shimmers and holds you snug and she feels guilty for staring at your curvature. She’s suddenly hyper aware of the vultures that disguise themselves as men and she has an instinct to hide you. And your ring is on. The thumping in her chest picks up. Only slightly. 

“It’s great to see you again.” Jolene says shakily from beside Ellie and she almost loses it before a grating voice interrupts. 

“You, as well. And your husband is…?” 

Your mother. And her lap dog wagging his tail beside her. What a bitch. Both of them. 

Your stepdad says something and you inhale sharply and no one notices but Ellie. She studies you carefully. You look like a frightened cat with a frilled tail as he speaks. Claws out, not because you’re ferocious, but so, so scared. She glances at your stepdad; greasy smile while he ogles at Jolene; what a nasty son of a bitch. 

Ellie whispers to you, “Is everything o—“

“Joel! Man of the hour! How are—“

“Where’s the bathroom again?” You whisper back. 

Ellie takes your hand in hers and flees while the family’s distracted, leading you down a hallway that’s way too long with lights too bright. 

She gestures towards the door. “It’s… This is it. One of ‘em at least.” 

“… Thank—“

“What’s the matt—“ 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost. Did that piece of shit say something to you?” Ellie glances to make sure no listeners are hiding in the shadows. 

The widest smile grows on your face as you laugh, hearty and loud with your head thrown back. Ellie stares in confusion. 

“Oh, Ellie! You’re so silly,” She jumps when your hands hold her cheeks. You’re fucking freezing and they tremble. Your eyes are a dark void. 

You lean in closer, lips right against her mouth and they part slightly on instinct. She’s concerned and should ask more questions, but your skin is so soft. Are you gonna kiss her, she wonders? You haven’t kissed since your wedding; your breath hits her mouth and her tongue swipes her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and she aches to touch you—

“Save a seat for me, love? Please?” 

It happens so fast; the frost of you is gone and the bathroom door slams shut while an elderly woman fondly whispers, “young love,” as she walks by. Ellie only nods with a rigid curl of her lips, throat cinched too tightly to swallow. 

You puzzle her. She’s tempted to wait for you, to ensure you make it back safely without bombardment, but then 

“Ellie! Why didn’t you call me! Your wife made it safely, I see!” 

A hand claps on her shoulder while men laugh from the side, boisterous and predatory and so wide their fangs show. Ellie’s sick and a war rages within her. 

“Your father sent me to find you! It’s time to eat!” 

She sends them a weak smile. She rushes away from the door and they follow close behind. 

Anything to lure them away from you. 

Attendees have dwindled, only Ellie and her family and you and yours and some CEOs that are really getting on her fucking nerves. But you’ve eaten, thank God. She can breathe a little. 

Only a bit, though. You’re putting on a fucking show and it’s scaring her; Even her dad seems impressed. Charmed by you. Clinking glasses and telling jokes and smiling. Did your mom hold you at gunpoint before you got here? How much did you drink? Not much from what she’s seen. 

That one fucker from earlier — Raymon or Robert or whatever the fuck — keeps leaning over the table whenever you do. Peeping at your chest, probably. She wishes these steak knives were sharper. 

“So! Our young couple,” says Old Bitch with a Combover and wiggly brows, “When are we getting those heirs?” 

You cough uncomfortably and Ellie squirms in her seat. Your mother scoffs, “Two women can’t have children—“

Said Old Bitch shrugs, “Well, not biologically—“

“My point exactl—“

Ellie’s father cuts in with a tense grin, “When they get to that point, we’ll discuss their options. There’s… many nowadays, evidently.” 

Neither you or Ellie interrupt, but she notices you’ve moved closer to her. Inched your seat a bit. You squeeze your hands so hard in your lap she’s scared they’ll shatter where they lay. You’re not smiling anymore. 

Her dad and your mom are subtle with their blows at one another; snarky with brutal stares, unremarkable to strangers, but you and Ellie know. When dinner ends, you’ll both be caught in their crossfire. 

“There’s no shame in me wanting my grandchildren to be by blood. I shouldn’t have to go shopping for an heir.” Your mother hisses. 

“Sh—“ Joel huffs with disgust, “Shopping for an heir? That’s what you think adoption entails?” 

“Does it not?” Your mother’s tone rises. 

Reggie, Rory, or Russell interjects with a dismissive wave, “C’mon, you too! No need to argue. I’m sure girls like them will be fine with obtaining children! It might be more… complicated, I will say!” 

“May I be excused?” You croak, and Ellie straightens. 

“Why? So you can wallow about dying childless?” 

The table silences. No laughter, no wittiness. Completely still. That wasn’t from your mother. Ellie doesn’t remember the last time she’s heard your stepdad speak so clearly. Her blood thrashes beneath her skin so harshly that her tongue unties. There’s a darkness in her that whispers, “grab that steak knife”. Brutalize him. Just for a second. Do it for you. 

Do it for her. 

“Go fuck yourself.” She spits. 

Your neck almost cracks with the speed you turn to her, eyes wide as the moon. Her father condemns, “Watch your mouth, Ellie.” 

“Or what, you old fuck?” 

Her heart rattles noisily in her chest; her hands shake where they rest on her lap, her cells trembling with the instinct to harm. The gaze of her father is distant and filled with inadequacy for his only line. Nothing unbeknownst to her, but there's a flash of something so deep, so forbidden for them, but she sees it every time they hold contact. Beneath all the loathing and lesions left to drain, there’s longing. An inkling of gratitude that she knows he’ll suppress until he’s buried underground. He’ll never look the same to her, and she imagines the same for him. Too many bridges burned. 

“How’d I do?” Ellie rasps to him, “Hm? The night went how you hoped?” 

Look at what you’ve done, she hopes her eyes say. Tears welt against her will. When was the last time she cried in front of him? She hadn’t even given him that honor at her mother’s funeral years ago. 

Ellie’s stiff stature nearly cracks at the light brush atop her knee. A wind catches in her throat when a pinky turns into three fingers, then five, then a palm that squeezes comfortingly, desperately. Maybe partly to keep her glued to this chair. She gulps the dryness down and a flame lights in the pit of her stomach. 

Her glance to you is brief, barely out of the corner of her eye, but you’re watching her. Intensely, and it scorches her cheeks, all the way down to her neck. Scared cat. Scared cat. Shrilled and cold and frightened to hell and she despises it. 

What changed? She’ll always wonder. That look hardly shook her a week ago and now it makes her teeth ache. 

Suddenly, it’s too warm here. 

“Get up,” Ellie rushes you. Grabs your arm and yanks you from your seat, “Not dealing with this fuckin’ bullshit tonight. We’re leaving.” 

There’s suddenly shouting from all directions of the dinner table with each step Ellie takes for you, but you never drop her hand. She clenches it tighter when you finally reach the back door. 

The door slams shut on the wreckage behind you. 

Consider plan MERGE a bust. 

Ellie’s a thief. You think. Maybe. 

Is it stealing if the car belongs to a family member? Where she snagged the keys from? You don’t remember. One second you’re at dinner, then watching the city pass you by the next. It’s silent in here. 

“Stop.” 

You slam back into your body. Still in the car. You wish you were asleep. 

“Huh?” 

Her eyes watch the road, but a hand rests on both of yours to pry them apart. 

“Stop. I hate that sound.” 

“… Wha—“

“You’re gonna rip your skin off if you don’t stop.” 

… Oh. Yeah. Bloody cuticles. It was all accidental, you swear. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Her eyes shut briefly and she sighs, sounding so worn. Exhaustion is her white flag. “Just stop.” 

“Alright.” 

“Thanks.” 

It’s quiet again. The red from the stop light reflects in the car and you’re instantly reminded of your stepfather. 

“Ellie.” 

“Hm.” 

“We should get a bird.” 

“… And do what with it.” 

You shrug, “Pet it. Feed it, too.” Sing with it, you wanted to add. Ellie would’ve probably laughed at you. 

She snickers dryly, “That’s usually what you do with a pet.” 

“I never had one.” 

The light turns green and the car revs. Your wife hums, “I had a fish once or twice.” 

“Lucky.” 

A small — very, very minuscule grin quirks Ellie’s lips and your heart hollers. For joy? In warning? 

“Not really. They kept dying so I gave up.” She snickers to herself, and you can’t help but stare. She starts talking then. Eyes gone, tension gone. She’s suddenly relaxed. 

“My mom… she, uh… loved water. Was always in it or… watching it on TV or something. She always bought fish from fucking… PetCo—“

“PetCo?” You laugh, then Ellie does. 

“Right? She’d take me and be like, “get one”. And I went home with a new fish every time.” 

“I thought you only went once or twice?” 

“… Times 100,” She giggles, “My mom lived there. She would always talk to the cats through the glass.” 

You don’t hesitate, “I wanna go.” 

“To PetCo?” 

“Yeah.” Why not? 

Everything is almost over. So, why not? 

“… K.” 

“So we’ll go?” 

“Mhm.” 

And the conversation ends. The car is silent. Suddenly tense again when you ask, 

“Do you think we’re cut off?” 

Ellie’s jaw clenches and the car is suddenly tense. Back to square one. “Possibly. Tonight was a shit show. It went by fast, at least.” 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m…”

Alone. You’re fucking alone and know nothing about life outside of what was built around you. Without it, you’ll spiral and fail and face a dreadful reality. No more rose colored glasses even if they’re browned and wilted as is. You’ll be eaten alive by the creatures in the night without a protective border. 

But the curse will end. You won’t inherit or be forced to lie or play a game that ends in fire. Decades of legacy down the drain just like that, and by your own hand. It fascinates you, that power. A force you’ve been withheld from. 

“I don’t know.”

“Still thinking about divorce?” A void in Ellie’s tone. 

“I don’t know.” 

“They’ll never allow it, you know that, right?” 

“What if I just leave?” 

“And do what?” Her voice raises. 

“Who knows. Who cares.” 

“Please,” Ellie exasperates, “Your mom will get fucking SWAT to bring you back.” 

“What good will a corpse do for her?” 

You’ll be dead but you’ll have a bird. A colorful one. That’ll be your legacy. That’s all you need, really. Ellie doesn’t say anything. Neither do you. 

More buildings flash by and suddenly you’re home. Parked in the garage with Ellie beside you, gazing off into opaque walls. You wonder what she’s thinking. If she sees everything in black and white like you do. Maybe she’s the opposite, vision bright and full of suppressed color. She is a painter after all. 

“What’re your plans?” Ellie suddenly whispers. 

“For?” 

“Life. The future. Anything,” She pries and digs for something, “There has to be something that interests you! That gets you excited! There’s so much shit to do.” 

You shrug. Not much. Not anything. 

“I used to be excited for my wedding,” You mumble, “Like… as a kid. White dress and flowers and everyone’s just excited to be there. For love, and whatever, you know? That’s how it was in movies, at least.” It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s off your chest. The unhealthy romanticization of the happiest day of your life ended up being just another day to honor the greed of your families. Everyone was so lifeless when they watched you and Ellie kiss. It hadn’t even lasted 3 seconds before she shoved the band on your finger with teary cheeks. Such beautiful scenery was wasted on misery. 

You look over and Ellie’s eyes are roaring, palms squeezing together in her lap while her wedding ring twists around her finger. You watch it cycle. 

“Now I…” You chuckle sadly, “I just want a bird, to be honest.” 

With your heels and purse in hand, the car door opens and you exit, forcing yourself not to peek through the windshield at Ellie again. 

The second floor, your bedroom, your bathroom, are all quiet. Did Ellie not follow you inside? For a while, you envision what it would be like if you weren’t married. If you weren’t born as you, would your world be this still? 

It haunts you in the shower. Wolffish eyes and dry hands grasping at your shoulders and waist but everything’s quiet. 

You wash your face, brush your teeth, wrap your hair alone. You wonder if anyone is actually in the house. Was Ellie a figment of your imagination? Is this one of the nights that proves she doesn’t exist and that your brain is your greatest enemy? You shove your face into the mattress before your thoughts venture. Silence rocks you to sleep, but not forgetting the taunting desire to know 

Is death this quiet? 

Your mom’s calling. 

Vibrations rattle in your bedside dresser. The sun isn’t up yet. The birds are still resting. She never calls this early… or late. Something bad must’ve happened. It takes 17 seconds for your drawer to stop shaking before it starts again. 

You can’t move to answer, though. Your body isn’t yours at the moment. Your soul will reclaim its shell soon enough. Or maybe it won’t. 

Your drawer shakes shakes shakes. Your heartbeat eventually matches the pace of its vibrations. You think it’s been 20 minutes. Maybe longer. When will the birds wake? 

Finally, the calls stop. Your eyes shut again. Instantly taken by darkness. 

You never wear normal clothes. 

Ellie’s only ever seen you in thousand dollar dresses and high heel shoes that scrape your achilles and cloth that squeezes you so tight she thinks she might explode by just looking at you. No matter how fucking good you look in them. 

So what the fuck is that? Moreso, why does she like it so much? Her cheeks are on fucking fire and her heart is trying to flee its enclosing. 

You have a t-shirt on. A simple, non-Gucci white tee that says LAS VEGAS and black shorts and a scarf on your head and socks with squirrels on them. Is this the fucking matrix? 

You never wake up this late, either. It’s 20 till 10. 

“Did my mom call you at all?” 

No… no she didn’t… Why can’t Ellie speak? She’s sitting there gaping like a fish and taking guilty glances at your nipples through your shirt. She shakes her head. You nod yours. 

“I uh…” She mumbles with a cotton mouth when you step into the kitchen, “I made coffee.” 

“I smelled it.” You serve yourself at the counter. 2 Splenda packs, no cream.

“Did your mom call you?” 

“Yes.” 

“What’d she say?” 

“I didn’t answer.” 

… Interesting. Odd. Her calls are never missed by you. 

“I hope it’s something bad.” 

Ellie swallows her sip thickly. “… Damn. Why?” 

“She deserves it.” You say calmly while stirring. “He does, too.” 

“Your dad?” 

“My stepfather,” You hiss and slam your mug on the table. Ellie flinches, “Yes.” 

Her palms raise in surrender, “Sorry.” 

“Where do you go at night?” The chair across from her scrapes on hardwood when you sit. 

Nowhere, recently. Ellie shrugs as nonchalantly as she can, “Anywhere. Wherever I want.” 

“Take me next time.” 

She pauses her sip to ogle. “Hm?” 

“Take me. I wanna see what’s fun for you.” 

Ellie huffs a shocked laugh, “No, you don’t.” 

You squint, “Yes, I do. That’s why I’m asking to see.” 

“It’s not your scene, dude, trust m—“

She jolts where she sits when a hand — your hand, soft and agile and cold, slams down on the table, rattling both your mugs and the vase that holds dead flowers, nearly shattering the glass with an accusatory finger. 

“You dunno know shit about me! I’m fucking going whether you like it or not! Whether she likes it or not, and if I have to do it myself, I fucking will, you fucking psychotic fucking bitch!” 

You rise and stomp to where she sits with a pounding heart and a lecherous swirl in her gut. You look about ready to slice her open with a blunt butter knife. 

“You treat me like fucking trash just like everyone else,” You whisper venomously, and Ellie shakes, “The least you could do is listen for once. Scared to take me to the place you cheat on me at? Don’t want me to see it? That’d be too real, huh?” 

Ellie exhales a shaky breath of your name, but your nails, cut and manicured to perfection, sink into her cheeks so tightly that she winces and blushes and her tummy twists with heat. You don’t flinch when her fingers delicately entangle around your wrist; doesn’t want you to think she’s holding you there even though she is. 

“You’re gonna show me a good time tonight. If it’s as fun as you say, that shouldn’t be an issue, right?” 

Her eyes must read yes, yes, it’s not a problem; Your grin is wild like a hyena; pretty lips swelled around pretty teeth and you always smell good. Caramelized sugar and nectar.  

“Who knows,” You purr and Ellie feels goosebumps forming, “Maybe I can meet one of your little friends.” 

She chokes around a gasp before her lips curl into a conniving grin, cheeks plush around your fingers, “Aren’t you a little hussy.” 

“Fuck you.” You shove her so hard her back collides with the seat but her eyes glow pink. She watches you leave the kitchen and stomp up the steps with a burning chest until a door slams from upstairs. She releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding, wracked and desperate. 

-

-

-

Ellie will never admit — or maybe she will, but she purposefully uses your shared bathroom to catch glimpses at you. She always expects to find you out cold and wrapped in warm blankets, chest fluttering with each twitch of your socked feet that peek from below the blankets. 

What she doesn’t expect to see, though, is your phone shattered to pieces and left to drown in the clogged sink. Right next to a weighted rubber mallet; Where’d you find that? All your pent up emotions were taken out on your device… and the counter, apparently. The marble is chipped. 

She can only laugh in astonishment. Amazement. Fear when she realizes… 

Your mom.

Did you ever answer the phone?

Another day you’ve slept away. Either you were dreaming or someone was holding you suffocatingly tight; you enjoyed it, strangely. The sun is completely gone and there’s rustling and music echoing from the bathroom. Ellie’s in there. 

All the blood rushes to your head with how quickly you sit up, but your feet carry you past your closets until the light from the room sizzles your vision. 

Your wife stands by the mirror, drying her hair with a towel with a cigarette between her fingers. The guitar synths coming from her phone are grinding in your ears. 

Is she really keeping her promise? 

Did she promise to take you? You don’t remember. 

“Hi.” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and your spine twitches. You say nothing, so she chuffs with a teasing lift of her lips, “Chickenin’ out?”

“No.” 

“K.” 

“What do I wear?” 

She shrugs, “Whatever you want to.” She speaks around smoke and her timbre’s dry. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“Whatever I want to.” 

She must sense your skepticism because she’s suddenly reassuring, voice crackly, “You’re not under any expectations tonight. You wanted me to show you what I do for fun, and I’m gonna. You just have to do your part and enjoy it.” 

Your nails dig into your thighs while you watch her. She has her ring on and her body wash coats the room in cinnamon. With a pounding heart, your hands slowly drag up your sides, fingers dragging at the hem of your shirt. She’s not looking. 

Enjoy it…

“Did you eat today?” 

“No.” 

She gives you a look. Stern. What is she mad about? Your tummy flutters, “There’s leftovers downstairs, you can have ‘em,” She shakes her wet hair and puts on her glasses, checks her watch, checks her phone, hits her cigarette. “We’re kinda behind so you should get read—“

Enjoy it. 

Her eyes meet where your shirt drops to the floor, breasts on display while your hands inch up your legs to drag your shorts down, all while you watch her. And she watches you. It’s overwhelming, your wife as an audience while you undress. But she told you to enjoy it. Enjoy the night. Enjoy the stares. Enjoy the attention. Enjoy her, for once. It all seeps into your pores. You step out of your bottoms and peel your socks off. 

Ellie drinks you in slowly. Says nothing. Simply takes her time memorizing every line, curve, dip, scar of you. You like how ravenous she looks. The sin in her pupils only darkens when your thumbs hook in your underwear to shed them. They dangle from your index finger when you walk; You smile when her throat jumps. 

She watches your filled hand travel to her pant pocket to shove the flimsy cloth in. The muscles in her back twitch when your finger traces her spine. Ellie’s pretty, littered in cute, red and brown spots. 

“I’m gonna shower.” Your lips brush her ear, and goosebumps rise all over her arms. Her eyes flutter in a pleasant blink, nodding in understanding. 

Your wife takes her lighter and reignites your favorite candle while your water warms. How sweet of her to set the mood for you. 

Ellie finishes her cigarette while you lather, watching her through the fogged glass of the shower walls, massaging soapy hands into your breasts and your legs and everywhere. She lights another at some point, bent over the counter while she smokes, ogling you through the mirror shamelessly. You smile when it settles in your chest.

You’re gonna fuck your wife tonight. 

What a fucking oddball you are. It’s cute. A little sexy, too. Only a little, she swears. 

… Fuck. 

She waits for you on the bed, dressed and jewelried, fiddling with her watch out of nerves because what the fuck are you playing at? Whiplash; that’s what she’s had all fucking day because of you. She works in the morning, for fucks sake. 

Still…

Does she deserve this sudden… What the fuck even is this? Certainly not affection; you nearly strangled her at the dining table. Attention, possibly? Seduction? She’s wired to hell, she wants you so bad. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She could act on her attraction, sure. She’s positive you’d allow her to take whatever she wanted because that’s what you’re trained to do; to satisfy your partner — husband, she imagines your mother grating — in any way he desires. But Ellie’s not a man, and she doesn’t want that. She needs you to love it, to crave it as much as she does. To take from her like she dreams of taking from you. Ellie needs you to batter her, and if you’d like, she’ll do the same to you. 

If only you’d give her something tangible. Teasing isn’t enough. She’s desperate to get a grasp on your headspace; she wishes she could prick and prod at your brain for a second. What an experience that would be. 

You enter the bedroom like a ghost; hair still wet and coily, dressed in all black like she is, only decorated with gloss and earrings. No heels either. Just very shimmery looking flip-flops. Ellie bites down a smile. 

“Where are we going?” 

She shrugs at your inquiry, “Somewhere really, really loud.” 

“Will people find us?” Paps, you mean. Ellie denies. 

“Not where I’m taking you.” 

“Must be secretive.” 

She tuts, “Not… well, maybe. It’s fun though. I think you’ll like it.” 

“Okay.” 

Ellie stands with her wallet and keys and kiddingly offers you an arm to hold onto. “M’lady.”

But you don’t accept it; back turned, halfway out of the room towards the stairs.

Pleasant. She doesn’t mean to smile. 

She makes sure to grab the to-go box from earlier before locking the front door behind her. 

It is very loud here. And hot. And raunchy. 

… You like that. Your mom would have a heart attack if she were to ever walk in here. 

The trip to this whatever, wherever place was pretty far. You counted every second of the nearly hour ride, mainly because Ellie’s jittery knee made you nervous. It’s smaller than you assumed, but not quaint. Not at all. There's a ruckus from the entrance to the back exit, people your age and older, screaming and shouting words that you don’t know while people pound on drums and shred on guitar. They sweat through their clothes while their makeup streaks down their faces as they make love to microphone stands. 

… Better than tea time, you suppose. How exhilarating. Your heart’s pounding like crazy.

Not much can be said between you and Ellie. You can’t hear over the bass and rumbles from the floor but she holds your hand and small purse. Guides you to a small section in the back with a bar. She hands the tender her card and… that’s it. Four clear, questionably large shots are poured and slid to her like nothing. You want all of them. 

Ellie seems so at home as she guides you, already a burning shot down, into the crowd. You’re shoved instantly by party goers, but she catches you, holds you strongly. You look at her, puzzled with shock, but she uncaringly lifts her shoulders, downs a shot, and starts thrashing. 

Your jaw slacks and lights beam and flicker at a rapid pace but you’re smiling. Your wife meshes with the scene so nicely. You wanna be like that. So you follow. You drink and jump and flail and scream your head off. 

You and your wife are synched for once. Terrible dancers. No rhythm whatsoever. Who cares who cares who cares.

You wish your mom was here to see you like this. You hope your mom’s dead so she never has to see you like this. A thought so dark shouldn’t bring you this much joy. You laugh and holler at the imagery. Blood all over the marble. Blood all over the doors of your childhood home. Blood blood blood everywhere because they deserve it. Look at what they’ve done to you. Sick evil people.

You wanna kill your stepfather. This music makes you wanna kill your stepfather. It’s gorey in itself, almost. Abborherent verbiage. You think Ellie wants to kill your stepfather, too. You should ask her later. Maybe when you're both sober. Maybe you should make your mom watch you skin him alive. Him dying would damage her more than you ever could. 

When your eyes open, Ellie’s gawking at you, seemingly surprised. Impressed? She holds your cheeks to get your attention, gesturing, asking if you want another drink. You nod and shout in her face and she laughs. Ellie holds you by the waist and guides you to the bar. The bartender must like Ellie. You leave with a full bottle this time. 

You and Ellie pass it between yourselves, the night becoming more and more broken. Touchy. Feely. Ellie rubs all over you while you pour liquor into her mouth. A bit dribbles down the sides but she doesn’t care. You don’t either. So you lick the drops from her neck like a cat with milk. Ellie stops and you stop and everything stops. It’s just the two of you, suddenly; all other patrons evaporate to nothingness. Her eyes are blown and heavy as she searches your face, and they halt their wandering at your lips. She’s thinking about it; You want her to see how bad you crave it. Even if it’s just for a second. She smiles, pleased. You shudder. 

But she doesn’t do it. She spins you so your back is against her chest, lips at your neck while she pushes her hips into your ass. She’s messy, drenching your already sweaty neck in spit. Her nails dig into the fabric of your dress, guiding your hips, swaying you on her. You follow. You follow so blindly because you like her hands on you a little too much. You drink and drink and drink. Everything feels light. Good. 

You think Ellie’s speaking to you. Or singing words in your ear. Or maybe she isn't speaking at all. You’re not sure, but your face is burning hot. She tongues at your ear and you make a noise that you can’t hear but hope she can. You need this. 

Her hands are suddenly slow where they crawl up your sides until they rest on your breasts. Your empty hand lands on one of hers to squeeze so that she can squeeze you. You feel her smiling on your skin when your jaw slacks. 

Your head turns to chase her mouth, but she does you one better. Whisks you once more so your chests smash together. She snatches the bottle from your hand, takes one last swig before passing it to eager, drunk hands that wave from behind. You gasp when her thumb catches your bottom lip, pulls it down to get your mouth open enough for her to dribble liquor into. You moan loud enough for Ellie to hear over those booming drums, swallowing down everything she gives, nails sank into her waist while her hips push into yours. When you swallow the last drops, she kisses you. Messy and hot, tongue and teeth; it gets your heart singing. Her pink muscle swirls inside of your mouth and your arms wrap around her neck, yanking her into you so no space is left. Her hands are everywhere; tangled in your hair, grabbing at your hips, your ass, your thighs. Everywhere everywhere everywhere like she can’t get enough of you. You’re overwhelmed and high out of your mind but you follow her guide. Anywhere she wants you, you are. 

Maybe you’re just as bad as she is. After everything she’s done, you should hate her. You think you do. You hate her for leaving you. You hate her for embarrassing you. Abandonment. Her only gift to you. Maybe that’s why you kiss her with such conviction. 

Her touch is passionate; strong but not forceful. She breathes you in like a rarity, something she treasures, all while she licks and tugs at you like a slut. There’s a pulse deep within you when her lips enclose around your tongue to suck it. Your thighs squeeze and she grins madly, giving you one last innocent peck before she grabs your hand to spin you. You laugh and twirl with her. 

You understand why people fall in love so fast. You hate that you’re one of them. 

Or are you simply as delusional as they come? 

You’re even more enthralling when free of restraint. 

Ellie’s drunk and sweaty and exhausted but she uses every last bit of strength to stare at you. She sits at the bar as the crowd dwindles, artist after artist, established or aspiring, all go on to perform, and you haven’t taken a break once. You simply twirl and spin and mouth incorrect lyrics with the widest smile on your face, all while Ellie brings you her drinks to finish. 

You’ve been here for hours it seems, but Ellie can’t drive. But the night is young. You certainly don’t look ready to go home. 

What more can she show you?

“Thank you all for comin’ out! Tonight was a dream—“

You’re a dream, Her chest screams. You you you you fuck—

You clap like the happiest seal on the planet before spinning around to face Ellie. It happens in flashes: you come closer and closer until you’re in front of her, warm hands on her cheeks, ears tingling when you whisper, 

“I didn’t get to meet your sluts.” 

You sound upset about it. Ellie stumbles about how they didn’t come, how they’re not here. How she doesn’t wanna see them right now and she means it all, but you don’t believe her, and her chest hurts. Guilty guilty guilty. 

“Get up.” You step away and Ellie pains to pull you back, savor the night a second longer. But she signs the receipt before following you towards the exit. The cold air feels so good. She needs water now. 

She gives you a little yank when you start wandering the opposing direction, “Come… come here. This way.” 

You grin and slur, “Where to?” 

Ellie’s brows wiggle playfully, “Gas station. You hungry?”

“…Yes.”

Ellie extends her hand for you to hold, and surprisingly, you accept. Her heart jolts to life. 

The walk is quiet. Your eyes are glued to the sky, wide and innocent; the large moon entrances you, surrounded by glittery stars. You both wobble down the sidewalk, trying to avoid bumping into pedestrians and other drunkards. She thought the rowdiness of nightlife would frighten you, but you seem drawn to the chaos.  

Soon enough, you’re both surrounded by aisles filled with chips and sodas and a fuck ton of candy. Ellie cringes at the fond stares she gives you holding 4 packs of watermelon sour patches. You’re cute as hell right now. Have you never been to a convenience store? What the fuck. 

“El! El, what the fuck! Where ya been!” 

Her sluggish brain is trying — really trying to figure out who the hell just left the staff room and is walking towards the two of you. It’s someone that knows her name or whatever shortened version they’ve created and the closer this person gets the more you shield yourself behind her fuck fuck fuck

Arms latch around her neck in a strong hug. Muscular, nice voice, smells like cherries. 

Abigail Anderson. Shoulda known. Great. 

“Jesus fuck, you smell like my dad’s liquor cabinet! We fucking missed you! We haven’t seen you in…” 

When Abby pulls back, her eyes immediately find you. Ellie steals a glance; eyes wide, soft with curiosity. They darken slightly when they lock onto Abby’s shoulders, all the way down to her arms and Ellie… why the fuck does that annoy her? 

“Who’s that,” Abby whispers suggestively and Ellie sighs. Scratches at her eye in irritation. 

“I’m her wife.” You say causally, and it shocks both of them. Abby moreso. Did Ellie never tell her? She’s sure she did. Everyone knows she’s married… right?

“Wh— wife?” Her eyes shift onto Ellie, “Bitch, you got married? What the fuc— when—“

“3 months ago.” You answer.

“Fucking — holy shit. Congrats? Uhh… sorry! Nice to meet you! You’re gorgeous, by the way,” She stutters to shake your hand, but you accept it, “I’m Abby!” 

“Hi.” You smile in delight and your shoulders relax. Abby smiles just as gently and Ellie thinks it’s time to go because you’re both getting on her nerves. 

“Alright, well, we're gonna pay, so… yeah. I’ll text you tomorrow or something. We’re tired.” 

“Mhmm,” Abby hums cockily, eyes glued to the mess Ellie made of your neck, “Looks like y’all had a great time.” 

“We did,” She confirms with pointed eyes, “See ya.” 

“Byeee.” Abby sing-songs with a chuckle before Ellie leads you towards the service counter to dump your snacks. Ellie gives the cashier a familiar nod. 

“Is she who you fuck?” 

Ellie chokes on her water and the cashier gawks at you from behind their reading glasses. You couldn’t have been any fucking louder in that moment, what the fuck.

“What—“

“Do you fuck Abby? I hope not in that bathroom,” You clumsily point to the gender neutral sign near the entrance. “I heard they’re filthy—“

Ellie whispers even though there’s no point, “Dude, are you fucking crazy—“

“… It's just a question—“

“Have a nice night.” 

The cashier rigidly hands Ellie the stuffed baggie and receipt. She snatches them before snatching you to leave. She drops your hand the second briskness surrounds you, “The fuck was that about?” Her chips are calling her. She needs a stress reliever. 

“What—“

She squeezes the bag and the pop rings like a gunshot, “Why the fuck are you asking if I fucked Abby? What the fuck—“

“She’s hot and you kinda are… to a certain degree, I guess. I just assumed.” 

Ellie’s appalled, but doesn’t have the energy to look offended. “Stop assuming, it’s… that’s fucking weird—“

You simply shove tiny watermelon slices in your mouth and steal her water to chug it. She watches you impatiently before you hand the crumpled, half-empty plastic back to her. She downs the rest and discards it some-fucking-where. 

Her thoughts are clouded. Did she fuck Abby? Are you forreal—

“I don’t care, you know.”

“About what?” 

You shrug, “If you fuck her.” 

“Please be quiet.”

“Okay.” 

You both do for a while, dead grass and Dorritos crunching around you. 

Until Ellie speaks again. 

“You’re quiet.” 

“Mhm.”

“Sleepy?”

“Nmhm.” 

Wide awake, actually. The world passes you by with each step the two of you take, swirling with bright lights and laughter. You follow Ellie closely, handfuls of candy shoved in your mouth while she munches on her chips. You never had those orange triangles before. Neither of you are in a rush to make it back to the car. Can Ellie drive in this state?

“Do you, uh, like places like that? Concerts?” 

“Yes.” You break out in a grin. 

“What else do you like?” 

“I dunno. I haven’t… experienced much.” You shrug, accidentally brushing against your wife’s shoulder. Electricity sparks near the end of your spine where a steadying hand rests. “Your friend… does she go with you? To concerts?” 

“Who?”

“Aaabby.” You tease, mocking the blonde girl from earlier, and Ellie’s expressions flattens. She's unsure why. 

“Oh, uh… yeah,” Her chip bag is suddenly very interesting. “Sometimes. I met her at one a few years back after a showcase I hosted.” 

“I like her.” She’s nice and smells nicer. You regret not shaking her seemingly strong hand a few seconds longer. Strong all over, actually. 

“… Uh huh.” 

Your brow arches at that, “Does that bother you?” 

“Why the fuck would it bother me? You can like whoever.”  

“Exactly how you like whoever, huh?” You sneer lazily, and Ellie goes stoic. And just like that, the conversation dies once more. You’re glad for it; selfishly, you’d rather refrain from telling your wife about how attractive you found her friend. She’s left you guessing under too many circumstances. Consider this a sliver of revenge. 

You both make it back to the parking lot in silence, minus Ellie’s agitated crunching. You lean against the passenger door while you watch her dig around for the keys. 

“Where to?” 

“It's almost 4 in the morning.” She hisses. 

“So?” You came home later than that for weeks. You wanna say it. You should say it. Grind your thumb deeper into that open wound, but you save it. Another day, maybe. Maybe not. 

“So we’re going home. I’m tired.” 

“Well, I’m not.” 

“Okay? Whatever, I’ll drop you off somewhere.” 

“You wouldn’t leave your poor, defenseless wife unattended, would you?” You whisper slowly, and Ellie tenses when you plant a soft hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t acknowledge you, just stares through the window behind you. You scoff and drop it by your side. Cross your arms stubbornly. 

“You’re mad because I like Abby.”

“There’s nothing for you to like! You just met her.” Her voice raises, and annoyance flares in you. 

“Exactly! I just met her, and I like her! The fuck did you think I was gonna do? Flash her right in front of the gummy worms?” 

“I don’t know! Fucking maybe!”

“So you can fuck other people but I can’t?” 

Ellie’s very close to you suddenly. Your heart jumps, “Oh, now you wanna fuck Abby? She’s the first person you’ve interacted with besides me since we got fucking married!” 

“SO?” You holler. 

“SO YOU’RE NOT FUCKING MY FRIEND! ARE YOU INSANE!” Speckles of spit land on your face and it sizzles into your pores. You might be. You fucking are. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Ellie’s forcing herself into your space, so why do you fight? Why are you hungry? 

Your palms crash into her chest and she nearly loses her balance, “I DON’T NEED PERMISSION FROM YOU! WE’LL FINALLY BE EVEN, YOU FUCKING WHORE!” 

“Yeah? Think Imma fucking whore?” Her grin is sinister, and excitement coils in your belly. Gets your fingers twitching from how hard they’re clenched. 

“Maybe I do.” Vehemence scathed your tongue. 

“You know what I think?” 

“I don’t care—“

“I think you do.” She mumbles against your cheek, “I think you’re jealous.” 

You still. Ellie’s eyes pierce through yours, burning and hot, nostrils flared: she looks like she could snap you in half. Your spine tingles with delirium. 

“You’re mad because I get to be. I can exist and fuck and party and come and go as I please and you hate it. You wish you could do what I do.” She stares like you killed her mother yourself. Strangled her with your bare hands. “I don’t have mommy and daddy breathing down my neck every 2 seconds. You want that so bad it makes you sick.” 

“So why stay?” 

It shocks her. You don’t waver; passive as usual. 

“You’re free and can do whatever you want, right? Why are you here? Go and be that. Be whoever you wanna be because you can.”

Everything will be over soon. Might as well. Ellie simply glares through you. 

Curiosity is your worst enemy. Might as well ask. 

“Why’d you defend me at dinner?” 

What does she know what does she know what does she know what

She rubs her eyes stubbornly, “Oh my fucking god, who gives a fuck!” 

“Me! I give a fuck! Why’d you do it! Why! You’ve never done it before!” 

She knows she knows she knows she knows she knows she knows

“BECAUSE FUCK HIM! FUCK EVERYBODY THAT DID THIS TO US! FUCK YOU, TOO!” 

You might cry, you might not. You’re unsure of everything and you’re angry and hurting. Ellie’s a reflection of you, and vise-versa. You hate her hate her hate her. 

Hatred. It might be the reason why kissing her feels so good. Because it shouldn’t be happening. Ellie shouldn’t have you trapped between her and her car, grinding so harshly into you that your spine bends. You shouldn’t tug at her hair to expose her neck to lick and suck and bite her neck red while she curses in your ear. 

This is the distraction you’ve been desperately searching for. To think you’d find it in your wife after all this time. 

“I’d be a whore for you,” She shamelessly seers against your throat, hands wandering to unbutton her own pants, “You know that, right?” 

… That’s cute. Makes you blush. 

“Yeah?” Her laugh is thick like syrup, “Gets you hot? Knowing how easily I’d give it up for you?” 

That sideways grin makes you tick. Your hand closes tight around her throat and she nearly bloodies her bottom lip with her fangs. Your wife looks pathetic; thumbs hooked into her pants, so ready to drop them for you in the middle of the parking lot. People are wandering about; she’s willing to fuck in front of them? 

How pretty would she look trying to be quiet for you? Nervous eyes searching for privacy, praying no one walks by and sees her on the edge with your hand down her underwear. Hopefully no one recognizes her, pulls out their phone, records the two of you. Blasts you both on social media while Ellie moans in your mouth. What would people think? Your families? How ashamed would they be? Their two girls making a mess of themselves in public. 

The thought makes you smile. Scares you. Makes you choke her harder. Her pained whine vibrates in your palm. 

“Get the fuck in the car.” 

The windows fog with the heat of your bodies; her body trapped beneath yours in the back seat that’s roomier than you anticipated. She rolls your hips on top of her, desperate and eager to rip your fucking clothes off and feel you for real. Your dress rests around your hips, your panties on display and she wishes she could see them. She only has her hands for reference, tracing over each thin seam littered with lace and patterns she tries to memorize. Your tongue belongs in her mouth. You feel so fucking good; you’re not close enough. She needs you closer. 

Her mouth chases yours when you finally separate, only connected by a thin string of saliva, but a stern hand collides with her chest to keep her flat. Her hands tickle your waist. Rests your dress even higher until she can see your belly button. 

“Wanna know a secret?” You whisper down at her, and she smirks. 

“I know you’re a virgin, baby.” She whispers giddily, and your teeth grit. A flame coils in your chest. You ignore her.

“You could’ve had me after our wedding, you know? With my face buried in the pillows and my ass in your face. I would’ve let you do whatever you wanted that night.” 

Your sudden vulgarity stuns her silent. Your wife looks like she’s imagining it; lip bruised from both your and her teeth, mind racing with filth of you in every position she can think of. She wouldn’t have been able to separate from you if that was the case. It’s one of the reasons she kept her distance; those pretty brown eyes rolled back would’ve put her underground. She’d never tell you that. 

“But no,” You say like it aches, “You wanted to go and bend over all those girls that follow you around like fucking dogs. You wanted a bitch, not a wife. Right or wrong?” 

She can barely breathe and your hand pressing on her chest isn’t helping; reduces her to sharp gasps that make her lightheaded. The more ragged they become, the harder you press. Your brow arches when she innocently bares her teeth. 

Her palms squeeze at your ass, “I thought about you the entire time—“

Your hand cracks and her head flies to the side. Right on her left cheek is the already reddening imprint of your hand. The crackles in your palm are numbed by the alcohol and your core burns at the shock on her face. She gawks off to the side, that meddling smile dropped completely, chest ragged with her breaths. 

“Ellie, put your hands down.” You spit, and they drop from you completely, palms flat on the seat beneath her. 

“You had every chance to do right by me and you wasted every single one.” You sound like you’re about to cry; Ellie’s too scared to look at you. Not the good scared that she’s felt around you this entire time, but a hollow scared. The one that freezes you. Her fight or flight is triggered. 

“I think you owe me an apology.” You whisper against her burning face before you kiss it gently. A pained groan escapes her, and you laugh. Loud, in her face. Even louder when she tries to grind her hips up into you. 

“Take us home, wife.” 

[kannady]

do you remember me too?

pairing: sylus x mc reader

synopsis: love and deepspace was a newfound obsession of yours. you installed the game shortly after sylus was released as a love interest. it'd be safe to say he was the reason you installed the app. however, finals week was approaching and you had to say goodbye to your favourite game. not for long, ofcourse. but you decide to login for the last time to check the new event.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: hey everyone! this fic is so, so close to my heart. its not only my first ever work, but also smth i never run out of inspiration, ideas and determination of. i hope you enjoy this update and im sorry if i kept you waiting for long. lemme know what you think!

check out all chapters here

Chapter Eight

Normal.

That was one word your new life could never be described as. Yet somehow it was.

Everything was normal now. Your job as a Hunter was normal. Your regular check-ups with Zayne were normal. Catching a glimpse of Xavier on his way home was normal. 

It felt like years had passed since you’d come here. You’d never forget the initial excitement and confusion, of course, that was unmatched. But why were you getting used to everything and that so soon?

Your first Wanderer encounter had been, well, as one would say “easy peasy lemon squeezy”. By now, you’d defeated dozens of Wanderers with natural efficiency. Something your co-workers envied, something that Jenna praised. 

Although you believed you could fight Wanderers just fine on your own, you’d come to realise and eventually accept that at the moment, your Evol was far too weak. Due to the mysterious Protofield created by the Wanderers, it was required by the Hunters Association that two Evolvers must be present to support each other. But you couldn’t let anyone find out about your situation. 

However, every time you were in battle, Xavier was by your side. It seemed to you that he was doing all the supporting. He was Lumiere, after all. 

You’d even tried resonating with him once, and as expected, the results were nonexistent. But his expression was still etched in your memory like a burn. He looked disappointed, confused, surprised. Whatever it was, he never asked you to resonate again and you never approached that matter. And that was how you preferred it now, considering how you couldn’t properly use your Evol. 

The first couple of weeks you were convinced you didn’t have it at all. Until the mundane lessons with our sister finally bore fruit, even if a tiny one. The tiny water drop she conjured was twice its size and now months later, it was about four times its original size. Progress was slow, but you mind it as long as there was progress. How you’d managed to hide your little “Evol catastrophe” despite being a Hunter, was something that eluded you.

But still, after spending months here, something always felt empty, hollow, an endless pit of vacancy. You could never put your finger on it and with time you learned to stop caring. Initially, you were ecstatic to be inside your newest obsession, to have a chance to meet your most favourite fictional character. As much as it felt like a crime to say it out, you just didn’t care anymore.

You were still alive, thanks to someone who unknowingly gave up their life for you. But it always left you wondering. Would she still do the same if she knew who you were? If she knew it’d just be a different version of her.

However, you always brushed away that thought disguising it as a moment of doubt. A weakness you couldn’t afford to show. Whoever it was that brought you here, still didn’t know and that was how you’d love to keep it.

You loved Sylus. You truly did. And now that he was real, you loved him too much and maybe that was your fault. You had tried to call him, to make him come to you. But that was months ago and you couldn’t even remember why you’d done that. You stopped peering out the window every other hour, stopped waiting by the door, stopped rushing up to your room hoping to see an open window and a present on your bed.

Was he never going to come? Or were things inevitably going according to the game? Would you only meet him if your entire family died in front of your eyes, just an arm’s reach away from you?

“Hello! Earth to (reader)!” Someone sing-songed, pulling you out of your everyday midlife crisis.

Tara was the spitting mirror image of her game counterpart. Short, brunette hair styled in a bouncy bob. Those same brown eyes and bubbly personality. She was one of the few elements of this new life that you truly appreciated with no catch. 

“Oh, hey! When did you get here?”

“Just now. I think Captain Jenna’s gonna send us to some mission. Oof, why did I think Friday would be a slow day?” She pouted and plopped on the chair beside you. 

“What do you mean? What kind of mission?”

“I don’t know, but she was walking very fast and she had that ‘I’m not gonna let you rest for a minute’ expression on her face!”

You burst out laughing, earning a few headturns and murmurs from your co-workers. You laughed till you felt the corners of your eyes tear up and your stomach hurt. “Oh, God! Do you watch Captain Jenna that closely?”

She sat upright, her cheeks reddening, clearly offended by what you said. “Hey! It’s just my observation,” closing her eyes and placing her hand on her chest, she continued, “A Hunter’s most powerful skill and weapon.” 

“Right.” You managed to speak while stifling your laughter. But your bickering was cut short, when you heard the doors open. Jenna walked in with her usual stern expression, closely followed by Xavier.

“Everyone, gather round please.”

You heard the shuffle of quick footsteps as everyone walked up until you and Tara were surrounded by a dozen more people. Taking a deep breath, Jenna spoke up. “Yesterday, we sent Team Cosmos to explore and report any potential dangers of the No-Hunt Zone 2…” She trailed off and lowered her gaze. 

You vaguely remembered the senior Hunters who’d been selected for this mission. Out of all your seniors, only the best of the best had been selected. You’d seen them training, all of the weapons assembled for the mission, the newly formulated battle tactics.

They were strong, stronger than any Hunter you’d come across. Except perhaps Lumiere. But what had happened? Did something go wrong?

“Yesterday, we lost contact with them at 11:37 PM. We don’t know exactly what happened or where it happened.”

You felt Tara stiffen up at these words, you turned to look at her and weren’t mistaken when you saw the sheer horror struck on her face. You were beginning to understand the mission now. You were supposed to retrieve the lost Hunters. But how could junior Hunters like you manage that when they had to go through weeks of strenuous training. 

Maybe everyone was thinking the same thing. Perhaps reading the mood, Jenna further went on. “We need to retrieve these Hunters as early as possible, this is why you’re being assigned to the mission. You will be guided by your seniors at all times, so refrain from wandering away on your own. Stick to your group and more closely, with your partners.”

“I have shared the files with you. Please check your Hunter’s Watch and give them a thorough read. If you have a ny question, please don’t hesitate.” With this, Jenna looked around the room, making sure to hold eye contact with every single one of you. Then, with a final reassuring nod, she walked out. 

The moment she was out of sight, everyone began whispering and murmuring to themselves, while you and Tara stood glued on the spot. Retrieve the lost Hunters. The Hunters that had received the best training possible, that left with the most top-notch weapons, that’d been slaying Wanderers for years now.

What possibly could they have encountered? Why was the Hunters Association sending junior Hunters for this suicide mission? You’d never expected them to do something so reckless.

As you raised your arm to read the documents, Tara swhispered. “(Reader), maybe for this mission we can-”

But before she could finish, you heard Xavier clear his throat, almost giving you a jump-scare and whiplash from how fast you turned your head. 

Where did he come from!?

“When you’re done reading, meet me outside. We’ll leave in an hour.”

With that he vanished just as quickly he’d appeared. You could swear you’d just blinked your eyes for a microsecond. 

Sighing, you sank into the nearest chair and clicked your watch to read the files. No-Hunt Zone 2 was an abandoned research facility that had been initially operating under Luminex Technologies. You’d read about it before, but now you were getting a foreboding feeling. You were intrigued by the attacker, captor, the predator. But that didn’t mean to send you off for this suicide mission. 

Hell, you weren’t even given a choice to back out now. 

Xavier’s words rung in your ears. You had less than an hour now and you were terrified.

Lemme know if you wanna be on the taglist!

tags: @zenbutnotreally, @godoffuckedupcats, @noxus123, @madam8, @agustdxjiminx, @liz9898, @lemonn015, @tearydamsel, @diegojeanne, @alyssac9, @dummiebunny, @acesgarden, @bigclownshoes, @sylusgirlie7, @roseyjean, @poptrim, @pillarofsnow, @rxelarailuj, @brekkers-whore, @one17, @cchiiwinkle, @babyx91, @mourning-into-dancing, @yuhuahuaaa, @stxrrielle, @tapiokay, @glassandhoney, @animelover18, @paper--angel, @plzdonutpercieveme, @coffeedragonhobbyist, @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme, @harbingers-lullaby, @sleepykittyenergy, @syluslovesicker, @solmanel1, @000rpheus, @theshadowsdragon, @silkyspiders, @moonlight-inthe-sea, @thebambi5555, @starllight613, @abbyeey, @mcdepressed290, @lluvia1415, @54fangirl, @batgirliee, @napforalifetime, @hughugh20, @mononlogue, @nisarelle, @nightmarewasteland, @yourlocalcatscammer

[laosinsin]

"S-Classes That I Raised": A Repository of Translations

What's It About: In a changed world with dungeons, and monsters and Hunters, lowly F-Rank Hunter Han Yoojin gets the chance to turn back time after his estranged younger brother - an elite S-Rank Hunter - Han Yoohyun, dies saving his life.

This time around, starting from before their relationship really worsened, he's determined to make sure he gets the best possible outcomes for himself and his brother, and just live quietly beyond that, but looks that won't be so easy when the world is coming to an end, and now all the S-rank hunters around can't stay away from Yoojin.

(It's not a harem novel (mostly). It's Yoojin and his so so many kids and some friends and some situationships. This cover has quite a few people missing from the cast, tbh, even if it does have all the more key ones. The blond man in the top center - NOT the villain - regardless of this cover lmao)

Where to Read It

There are a lot of chapters and quite a few translations floating around in different stages of doneness, so putting this together for reference, with some latest-as-of-2025 info.

The Original (aka the novel in Korean)

The main story in Korean seems wrapped up and finished as of May 2025. Clocking a whopping 1165 (sweet sweet) Chapters across the Main Story and the 2 Sequels (Side Story and After Story)

Main Story: 856 Chapters + 14 Chapters of an Epilogue

(This is usually available and often considered one complete work of 870 Chapters. Epilogue Chapter 1 is sometimes just Main Story Chapter 857 also)

This is available to read on a whole bunch of sites such as Naver, Kakaopage, Ridibooks, Munpia, both in ebook and chapter form, as well as on more 🏴‍☠️ platforms where knovel raws thrive.

Side Story: 167 Chapters (Completed)

Afterwords: 128 Chapters (Completed)

These are, as of now, Naver exclusive and only available on the most hellish of the websites to buy from if you're not in SK, IMO (i.e. Naver). Hopefully this will change. These are also a bit tough to find raws of on 🏴‍☠️ platforms, ime.

Where to read the Translations!

Main Story Chapters 1 -400: The primary source of translation currently is SFS Translations' version! One needs to contact them for access to their locked/gdocs version (access can take a few days, but generally not more than 3-5 days) This is currently the best and most-up-to-date translation, as far as I know.

Beyond this, we venture into MTL land.

ETA: The MTL Version is now complete including the Side Story and the Afterwords! Thank you @tele-portal!!

- Main Story Chapters 350 - 870 (aka till the end): Naive_twilight has put together a MTL epub and pdf available for Chapters 350-870 on reddit. While it is MTL, it is pretty decently understandable, IMO. But you would still want to re-read the chapters once they are released in actual translation, because this is a novel with layers and layers of stuff going on in the narration and dialogue. - Side Story Chapters 1-167 (aka complete): Naive_twilight to the rescue again, with an epub MTL file on reddit, updated just a few weeks ago. And that's where we are for now. After Story translation isn't available yet, will update this post, as/when there is something to link. - Afterword Chapters 1-128 (aka complete!!): Naive_twilight, who is also tele-portal on tumblr! has released the MTL files for these chapters as well recently!

- Other than the Story itself, the author has also done extensive Q&As, which detail out a ton of worldbuilding and characterization notes, and a great collection/translation of some of them by dbgdbw can be found here on tumblr (uhhh, tumblr post linking to gdocs file?)

ETA: @a-sctir-a-day has been doing MTL translations of the Q&As one question-at-a-time as well.

Other Misc Translations Under the Cut

As I said, this is a story with a lot of translations out there, and also this is a story with laters of stuff going on in the narration and dialogue, so sometimes it is very fun indeed to read different versions/takes on the same chapter. (And sometimes you just can't wait until you get access to SFS Translation's version, so you start elsewhere while you wait ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

- Chapter 1-330 (330- 350 is Patreon-locked) - MattReading Translations is on Wordpress, and the main/current translation linked on NovelUpdates. This is ongoing, and updates pretty frequently. Pretty decent - I think the flow of translation feels more natural in some earlier bits and gets a bit sloppier in later chapters - but the site is just ad-city central if you're on mobile. - FreeWebnovel - Chapters 1-261, but this seems to be abandoned and last updated 6+ months ago. This is also, I think the version, one will find in epub/PDF files of early chapters if one goes looking, and I think it uses text from older unedited raws, as opposed to the latest ones. And hence misses some pretty key new scenes/moments. So unfortunately, decent epub/pdfs for the early chapters are not currently easily findable. - dbgdbw - Very explanatory and informative translations on tumblr with extensive culture and translation notes for some selected chapters in the 183-350 chapter range, and then a lot of selected chapters all the way to the end. Definitely worth a look, especially if you are into the han-brothers relationship. - Lalune9x - A small selection of translations (Ch 399-402 and 462-474). They haven't really posted since late 2024, but the chapters that do exist here are very readable and well-translated. A mix of MTL and manual translation according to their pinned-post.

I think that's more or less the main versions that are out there, that I am aware of. Will update as and when new things pop up, and also please do let me know if I have missed something which is out there!

(Also thank you and shoutout to sctir who put together a similar post 3 years back, which is what got me started on this journey and helped me find the good stuff beyond the novelupdates entry)

[basil-does-arttt]

'She looks down again, synthetic flesh stares back at her through the shards of a thousand mirrors.

This is not her. This is not me. This is not me.

This is not me. This is not me. This is not me. This is not me. This is not me.

Who is this? Who are you? Who am i?

You are not who you think you are.' (Alt version below)

i decided to make a Maus version of that Rin art :3, im not as happy with the overlay this time (its meant to be two deer in an antler fight) but oh well. At least Maus looks good. Also, that snippet at the top is some of my own writing this time, where on Rin's one it was a thing i found on pinterest. Will i release that full piece of writing? Maybe in the future when its done. Maus' persona degredation and subsequent resurfacing Gestalt memories as a result is something that affects her more than she'd like to admit. Admitting that she's degraded far past what is ever considered "safe" for a Replika means admitting she needs to be replaced. Admitting she needs to be replaced means getting decomissioned - killed - by somebody she probably knows and trusts, probably Rin herself even. Where does "Maus" end and "She" begin? Sometimes everything blurs into one, she'll see things that arent there and never have been there and all she can do is pretend its not happening in order to save face. She wonders if the other three Kolibri's of RCF experience the same things. She wonders if they remember who they used to be, too. She figures its probably best not to remind them, if remembering has caused her this much suffering. Maus doesn't fear much. But if theres one thing that terrifies her, its the thought of death. The infinite nothingness that comes after one's life has reached its end. Its not dying itself she's scared of, really, its the eternal void of non-existance. Even if another Kolibri will be created and deployed when she's dead, even if technically they will both be identical in both body and brain, She will still be gone.

(she fears death, but i think if it werent for Rin, she would have decommissioned herself many, many cycles ago.)

[hotcoldboyssummer]

Interest check if anyone's interested! Introducing a lowkey SFW summer Terror event from the months of June thru July / August. Basically a summer fest where we focus on all sorts of summer related activities, Terrors and Terror associates (rpf and the like, etc), and mostly fun silly stuff! A way to offer a light, chill event for the Terror fandom amongst all the heavy hitters. All fanworks invited, and there'll be weekly prompts! I might even set up a server for it (tho lord knows i dont really like modding servers)

At the end of July, I plan to put together a digital free-to-download zine with everyone's contributions! The only guidelines will be that there'll be one or two submissions per person, the pieces revolve around some summer theme and are preferably (though not required) lighthearted / angst-free, and that the works have been created during the festival period (June and July 2025). That's it! The zine will be released around August or September compiling all of the works of the summer (depending on how much free time me and my mods will have)

Will be run by me @p0rchc0ll4ps3 (yeap another event from me, heh, i love events, im having so much fun, i love yall, i love this fandom so much genuinely!!!) and a couple of my brothers in terror @charlesemersonwinchesteriii (thank him for the name of this thing) and @gothhyacinthus

If thee doubts my zineful prowess, behold my previous zineful endeavor for the disco elysium fandom HERE

that's all; hope you guys join me! we'll be in hawaii in no time i promise

(also i might even consider putting this on twitter.... remains to be seen)

(also also may consider an afterdark version so to speak (ie an 18+ only, nsfw allowed variation, would involve an entirely separate blog etc) but that's for later consideration)

[transgender-eichi]

i love how the show is essentially establishing itself as an alternate universe. coz, ofc, alexander skarsgård is playing one version of murderbot, as everyone sees it differently, but the show's also changing some of the small details that make it more like an alternate universe

with the 4 episodes out so far, it gives me more of a feeling of an outside pov in comparison to the books; obviously, the story is still told by murderbot, but there are scenes that it's not present for and extra scenes we don't see in the books, as the books are its diary and a lot of us assume that it omitted the parts it found embarrasing (such as the combat override scene in the newest episode).

also, overse and volescu aren't in the show, and some of the relationships are different. i don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, since there were a lot of humans and removing them two made it more consise in a way, but it's also different, and other characters have stepped in to fill those scenes.

and murderbot's gov module is hacked a lot more recently in the show than it was in the books, iirc. it's less used to having free will, is the vibe im getting

there's definitely some other stuff too, but i just find it so cool. i also think the casting is incredible and alexander skarsgård plays murderbot really well. considering my skepticism before the show released, it's much better than i was expecting, and i'm enjoying it a lot. especially when i can consider it as an alternate universe :D

[simstationdance]

HAPPY BIRTHIVERSARY part 2 - Crop Tops & Punk Skirts

FUN FACT: The Sims 2 (2004) was released 3 days before the date upon which I was released from my mother's womb, therefore making me younger than The Sims 2 by 3 days as of September 14th 2024, but objectively older by 6 years as of September 17th 2024. As of this post, it is now my birthday. I can feel the hands of time slowly pulling me into the earth. Let's celebrate!

Today's Very Special Birthiversary post includes a set of stylish, vaguely Scene-inspired clothes for ladies: 24 recolors of the Urban Primitive skirt, separated from the Maxis outfit by Skell, and 5 Goth themed patterned recolors and 5 bright solid recolors of the 4t2 Bow Crop Top by MDPthatsme, with black tank top undershirts attached using textures by DeeDee. The clothes are for AF and TF, with Standalone and Repositoried options for TF, and they come with all morphs.

All meshes are included and special characters that would make the game load slower (specifically hyphens) have been removed from the filenames. Since the skirt is from the ever popular Maxis Match Repository Project, you probably have the mesh for the skirt lying around in your Downloads somewhere, so make sure you don't have duplicates.

For the skirts, there are two versions with tights - one of which is a mashup of fishnets by Io (colored red and black) and the Maxis black and white stockings, and the other is the Maxis shorts+fishnets texture because I liked it - and one version with bare legs, which can be used with @themeasureofasim's stockings accessory boxes. (actually only a handful work, see under the cut)

The crop tops and the skirts are 'meant' to be paired together but, being separates, you can mix and match with any other top or bottom you want.

CROP TOPS SWATCH | PUNK SKIRTS SWATCH

See under the cut for more (not very important) information.

DOWNLOAD (sfs)

Mesh credits: @mdpthatsme, Yuichen, @deedee-sims, Skell Texture and alpha credits: DeeDee, Ghanima Atreides, Creesims, Io, and Maxis Pattern credits: andrea_lauren, nerd-and-vine, ophelia_payne (@ Spoonflower), Blue Moth Fabrics, and VictoriaBat.

I have done my best to credit everyone who's resources I used. If I have misattributed or missed anybody, or if I have broken a rule in someone's TOU somewhere, please let me know.

Secondly, this is my first time 'retexturing' clothing instead of just recoloring it, as well as the first time I've done anything clothes-related in a very long time, so please be gentle to me with your criticisms and let me know if anything needs fixing <3

I wanted to recreate this outfit using only textures, because I know nothing about meshing and Milkshape scares me. As you can probably tell, I got a little carried away from the original goal.

I mashed a bunch of patterns, textures, and colors together on top of the crop top and skirt in an effort to learn 'advanced' recoloring of clothes in GIMP, as the most I've ever done before was just recoloring using pre-made PSDs. it was a bit of a disorganized disaster and there was quite a bit of blood, sweat, and tears. But the end results look... mostly nice, I think.

The arm warmers and fishnet gloves shown in the preview are a pair of accessories created by katsurinssims that I used to try to 'complete' the look, and are not included in this download.

Edit: im very sorry, I only tested a handful of the accessory stockings on the bare legs skirts, because I was very tired and there are A Lot of them, and assumed they would all work. But after a bit more testing, some of them have small gaps or poke through the boots, and the ones that are supposed to go over the crotch area end up looking like over the knee socks. Other than that, most of the knee high socks and tights work, but only on AF. I don't consider this a huge problem though, because a good amount of the tights work and the ones with gaps are barely noticeable.

There's a shoe swap that makes all of the boxes work with these skirts and I'll make another versIon of them with that mesh later.

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Hiiiiii there! This is the first time I'm gonna request in your blog, which made me wonder of what to request until I saw of those episodes of anyone insulting the characters vs. the sagau reader, so was wondering... We go for the Fatui!

May we have Freminet (the poor boy) being bad mouthed and there is Reader being stopped by both Lyney and Lynette because they are about to unleash hell upon the insulter and drown them with their own bare hands, threatening the insulter to become immortal and trapped in a coffin where they'll forever be drowned under the deep seas.

Same treatment goes to Arlecchino too, like, what do you mean about what you insulted to her?! Excuse me! She's the Father! THE FATHER! (the very father who reader wished to got adopted by ahem ahem) and now there are Lyney, Lynette, and even Freminet trying to stop reader from unleashing another hell and wait, why are they carrying Arlecchino's scythe- but ofc, Arlecchino had to stop reader from causing more havoc (even though she wanted to see it, it's not a good image of reader causing a murder spree for the Fatui) but everyone still gets the message.

Then there's Dottore (and possibly his entire segments too, where maybe reader convinces Nahida to spare them, after all they are the creator and they love all creations, even the different versions of Dottore in all ages)! No matter how much things he had done in the name of science and knowledge, he's still our pookie (we all love our silly man, no matter how much questionable his methods are-) and there's a reason he became this way. And when a certain villager from Sumeru insults him? Then reader founds out that it was the same village that kicked Dotts out when he was a wee kid? Reader went BEAST mode and was about to burn the entire village down (before Dottore burns the Iriminsul tree, reader went ahead but it's not the tree but his home village holy shi-) and he appreciates that and at the same time, for the first time, he's concerned and had to gather his ENTIRE segments to stop reader because they became a BEAST XD

And oh, can we get Capitano too? Like... WHO DARES QUESTION HIS RESOLVE, THIS CHIVALROUS MAN WHO WENT TRYING TO GO AND SAVE NATLAN BECAUSE, your Honor... Reader growled and hell hath no fury they went releasing their anger that would make the abyss creatures run between their tails, Capitano being the down to stop Reader as if he's lifting an angry kitten roaring around.

Anyways, thanks again and I hope this is all alright. Have a beautiful nice day ❤️

*COUGHS AGGRESSIVELY, CRAWLING OUT OF COFFIN*

IM AWAKE I PROMISE—LET'S DO THIS >:D

Click Me For Part 1!Click Me For Part 2!Click Me For Part 3!Click Me For Part 4!

Be Fearful of the Fatui...Because the Almighty Creator is Their Safeguard, THAT'S WHY!

Ft. Freminet, Arlecchino, Il Dottore, Il Capitano

(Warning! Might Be OOC!)

Oho, boy, do where shall we begin? Well...Let's just say, even the FATUI are scared of you—you have even LITERAL FATUI HARBINGERS concerned for the utter chaos you're about to start.

So let's break it down, shall we? :D

Freminet

To say that Freminet is trembling underneath the SHEER mass of fear of the potential idea of you causing utter mayhem on his behalf would be the UNDERSTATEMENT of the YEAR

Let me tell you, when boy heard you were considering on waging WAR for this one snobby guy that decided it was their time to shine in the "Worst Person Alive Award" newspaper section, bro almost fainted!

He had to beg Lyney and Lynette to do something before you proceeded to smack the utter daylights out of the poor guy. Quite literally speaking, they had to drag you back by hauling you over their collective shoulders.

"Y-Your Grace...Please...don't do that again? Uhm, their words don't really...hurt me. I promise....So can we, uhm, drop the idea of killing some random person on the street?"

This poor scuba diver was shaking from head to toe. You might need to console him first before going all out with your secret murder plans, I mean—uh, those other plans you had! Yeah!

May the Hydro Archon bless Freminet's soul, he's found another thing to both fear and love about you. On the plus side, more time to spend with your favorite person despite not being able to kill—I mean, "teach" someone! Woohoo!

Arlecchino

She was surprised you would go to such lengths, at first. Then she immediately thought they were unnecessary—people will always talk because they were part of the Fatui, after all.

What she overlooked was the fact that YOU took this very specific insult PERSONALLY. So, in the end, there's an entire crew of her own children from the House of the Hearth, trying to hold you back while you (somehow) managed to either replicate her scythe entirely down to the smallest detail, or you just somehow stole hers while she wasn't looking (she's leaning towards the former, considering your stature).

She had to personally arrive to the scene to tell you to stand down. While she does appreciate (and would love to see) that you would willingly create hell for her, she does believe prioritizing YOUR image comes first and foremost rather than an insult.

"Your Grace, let's settle down." She gives the person who inflicted your wrath that side-eye glance that makes them tremble. "Don't waste your breath on a person who isn't even worth your attention span. Allow me to escort you back to the House of the Hearth. There are some matters I'm aware you need tending to, and I apologize that there has been a nuance in our midst that has been holding you back. My children and I will take it from here."

Safe to say, she's escorted you home, and had some dessert and tea made for you to calm yourself down on. Now, be prepared to spar with Arlecchino. She wants to see what kind of hell you could create—even if it's nullified to the point of a normal person's sparring match. The idea enlightens her.

Il Dottore

Must I really say much for this man? He's utterly happy that you're creating chaos? And for him, of all people? He's so flattered, he could brag to literally everyone that talks to him (literally. He does that to everyone for WEEKS after).

You, burning a village—his HOME VILLAGE—for him? Oh, he's kicking his feet like a little girl. Please, by all means, go all out! You can bet yourself that he's there watching it happen.

That was slightly a mistake. He's now traumatized watching you cause your mayhem. A divine blessing, nevertheless, don't get him wrong—he just wasn't prepared for what you had in mind.

"Oh. Great. Archons." He's staring down from where he stands, and he's flabbergasted. For once in his life, he thinks he has to stop you in your ingenuity. Your great, divine ingenuity. "...Tsk. At least that's one thing all my segments can agree on."

Five hours later, you return to the Fatui's main base with Il Dottore (the real one) greeting you, and the rest of his segments hauling you back as you scream bloody murder (still) at the very top of your lungs.

...None of the Fatui members that met you that night slept well for the next few months. Il Dottore being the exception that he doesn't sleep for the sake of EXPERIMENTS.

Il Capitano

Ah, our favorite, idealistic and righteous captain...

He's already there, holding you by the scruff of your neck as you practically said some of the most foul language you ever known (he's glad he has that helmet hiding his face, because he's grimacing with how bloodthirsty and venomous it is).

He personally took you elsewhere to cool down. Mainly alone, since most of the other Fatui soldiers decided then and there that they were not prepare to see the Almighty Creator descend hatred-fueled wrath upon this poor guy that keeps insulting and questioning The Captain.

"Your Grace, I appreciate the concern, but you must be aware that your strength can't be used to unleash hell everywhere." He's giving you that talk about great power and great responsibility. You know the one—but hey, he does it in his style! "Natlan is already very fragile. We have to be cautious with our next move, or innocent lives will be caught."

He does give you a head pat as his form of appreciation for defending his honor, despite all the scolding he gives you. That counts for something, right?

Just—please don't smite someone because of insults. He appreciates the gesture and all, but The Captain has other matters to sort out. He much rather know you are safe and sound, than yelling for murder in some distant corner, scaring tribe members.

And that's a wrap! Hope you enjoy it! :D

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I AM BACK! Finally—my hiatus was so long OMG, but I'm slowly trying to come back. Not sure if my activity will increase, considering how life is, but hopefully, I'll be writing a bit more. My device isn't as laggy as it was before, but I'm still be cautious as of right now LOL

Anywho, I JUST caught up with the Genshin Main Story, so I know the gist of the lore again, more or less. I haven't got into any of the Character Stories, though, so if you start asking me about Natlan Character Stories, or characters like Skirk and Escoffier, you'll be fairly disappointed in second of how fast I fumble. That's to say, I don't think I'll be getting into their backstories anytime soon—I've only just re-entered Genshin Impact's lore, and I technically need to catch up on the little nitty-gritty details myself LOL, especially BEFORE NOD-KRAI LIKE—HELLO??? AM I MISSING LORE REGARDING THE MOON SISTERS, OR IS IT JUST ME?

Anywho, that's my little rant LOL—see you next time!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[storgicbytes]

THE ANIMATION VERSUS KICKSTARTER HAS LAUNCHED !!!!

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/animationversus/animation-versus

which MEANS im going to make a post detailing everything of course .

https://youtu.be/K4lvfmbMkcw?si=73cLDy92Aaron3yL

god. GOD !!!!!!! IM SO EXCITED !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT DUDE

the game looks INSANELY good already and that's considering the game, as we see it, is supposed to release in 2028 !

it looks like it has 28 days to go to achieve its goal (and it already is doing really weel as i write this XD i mean, 14k dollars already??? god DAMN !!!)

(new art on kickstarter page! the artist cooked)

i find it INCREDIBLY cool that the lead developer of the project is the person who made the ava/m rivals of aether mod. how cool is that dude

right away from the trailer im incredibly happy they're including purple in the main cast (another purple cameo on alanspc for the win)

(i do admire the way blue is just fine with it)

the fighting kits are INSANE MAN ?? its a little surprising that orange's main moves are projectiles (which however is incredibly cool. both a throwback to anim vs. physics and (unintentional?) parallel with vic perhaps) <- (although, now reading it, it seems like the projectile objects will rotate with every move!)

green having a guitar in his kit ???? are you kidding. /vpos . i was wondering how they would optimize blue's kit but it looks SO cool dude (its likely im going to be a blue main XD)

red's kit looks interesting, especially with the shark move! its genuinely not surprising that its red who's kit currently looks best ingame lol. it's also no wonder purple's kit is best at air attacks!

the backgrounds are just. Holy hell.

the whole fact they're making like. 4 different backgrounds per Stage ??? Good lord.

and. hello??? hello? hi ???? hello ????? im Sane ???????

other notable details: its so cool to get more details on the city from up above, seeing it's so progressed. other details: "primoral descent" billboard which is a reference to dj's original comic! plus corndog guy's stand in the second bg (also we really gotta acknowledge that moon exists in the outernet sometime.)

(as im writing this the amount of money has already went up to 34k. holy hell.)

its interesting to me as well that the game's version of special attacks charge bar is a "node meter"! another one for the computer/internet references

("a node in network refers to any physical device or point that is capable of sending, receiving, or forwarding data")

which also seems like a general running theme for the fighting scene in game itself, given that those "nodes" are also seen on the art and the character's fighting profiles

it seems like the game will either feature new game-specific soundtrack or compile existing soundtrack into a batch (which is making me Squeal because im so interested in how individual soundtracks are going to be named — yes im a fan of such details XD)

the reward tiers are. hough. holy hell

beta tests ???? tco palette???? (as im guessing with sec?????) exclusive character pins??????? FUTURE DLC???????

(also, cursor lobby pet implies that there Will be a lobby. lol)

the kickstarter page also says: "Today, we have six characters that we’re excited to share with you. With your help, we’ll be able to bring even more iconic heroes and villains from AvA into the game!"

if that means we WILL eventually get rocketcorp characters + king. oh my god. oh my god.

and also. DIGITAL ART BOOK??????

(selling my kidney.)

plus. "At some of our higher tiers we're offering the opportunity to join a development meeting to see how to game is made, and the option to design your own original character stick figure in a level background!" Hello ?????

god i barely can word anything right now dude im so excited i cant stop stimming what the HELL !!!!!!!!