haveateadude

[haveateadude]

idgaf if my parents are disappointed in me I'm not impressed by them either

[haveateadude]

They should invent a not being exhausted

[haveateadude]

[haveateadude]

this changed me as a person

"No, don't - don't come any closer."

"Reg-" "Please, please, I don't want you to see me like this, just let me - let me clean myself up and-"

"You're shaking."

"Sorry."

"You don't - Reg - Regulus, stop, hey," he takes the other boy by the arm as he tries to get past him, pulling him in.

"I'm sorry," Regulus says again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry."

"Sh, sh, it's alright, we're alright," Regulus is flush against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin.

"I don't know why I'm crying."

"You don't need to have a reason." "You shouldn't have to come home to this." "What are you talking about? I get to come home to you. That's all that matters." Regulus shakes his head against James's shirt, sniffling. "I'll get myself together." "I don't mind you apart." "I meant to have dinner ready." "I'm not hungry." "James." "Regulus." "I don't know what's wrong with me," he says miserably. "Nothing, nothing's wrong," and then, after a brief pause, and in a voice so gentle Regulus doesn't know how it's even possible: "You're just depressed." Regulus half-laughs and half-sobs into James. "You have no tact, anyone ever tell you that? No tact at all."

"You tell me all the time," kissing the top of his head and holding him more tightly. A few seconds pass before: "I love you, you know?"

Regulus's hands are all twisted up in James's shirt, a wounded noise coming out of his mouth. "I thought it might stop, now that..." "That?" "You and I are..that we're so good. I thought it might stop." "Don't think it works like that."

"I'm sorry." "No," kissing his head again. His temple. His ear. His cheek. "I don't mind Regulus, I really don't. You just need to tell me, okay? Tell me when you feel it coming on, and I'll know and I'll be here."

[haveateadude]

stressed reader and ellie!!!

thought about this while crying in the shower and wrote this in a spam of an hour. and no warning... just pure tooth rotting sweet fluff, and being naked?? but it's nothing sexual tho. this is really rushed btw😭 sorry in advance. love uuuu

imagine coming home—body sore, tensed muscles, joints stiff. a pounding headache is slowly turning into a migraine, the pain creeping behind your eyes.

you drop your bag on the floor, closing the door softly behind you. you then take off your shoes and leave your coat on the hanger. you have no energy to tell ellie you're home, but luckily, she hears the door open and is quick to rush to you.

"hi, baby," she says gently, after kissing you, sensing your exhaustion. "long day?"

you don’t speak, just basically fall into her arms, wrapping your arms around her neck and mumbling a response against her shoulder. it answers her question.

"okay, we don’t have to talk." ellie presses a kiss against the top of your head, then pulls away slightly to kiss your forehead. after that, she presses another kiss, this time on your nose, then moves to both of your cheeks before her lips finally find yours. the kiss lingers for a while.

"i can run you a bath," she offers, her voice barely above a whisper. "how does that sound?"

you nod. "that’d be nice."

"that’s what we’ll do, then."

minutes later, you're sitting in the tub, and ellie has joined you. your legs are pulled to your chest, arms hugging your frame as you sit between ellie’s legs. the water is nice—so perfectly warm that you feel yourself getting a little sleepy. her hands find their way to your bare back, her thumbs rubbing against the most tense spots.

"you’re so tense," ellie says, stopping the movement of her hands to push away the wet hair sticking to your back so she can place a kiss there. her lips feel soft against your skin, like they always do. both of her hands travel to your upper arms, rubbing them up and down. she then whispers against your skin, "you need to start relaxing... you know you’re gonna tire yourself out if you keep going like this."

"i can handle this."

"yeah, i know you can. but you also need to rest. what if you take the day off tomorrow, hm? i’ll take care of you."

you want to argue back, to say that you can keep going, that you’re able to do more. but you're feeling like shit and the idea of staying next to ellie sounds too good to resist.

"just us?" you ask.

ellie nods, "just us, baby."

[haveateadude]

official elon musk hate post reblog to hate like to hate reply to hate

[haveateadude]

now that i'm on break i can write so much more!!!! *gets depressed*

[haveateadude]

what did you give me to make my heart bleed out my chest?

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ cait 'visits' vi on her emo era

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ not proofread!!! mentions of alcohol, being drunk, and fighting as a way of punishment?? i think that's it lol

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ sorry if this is out of character. i tried my best!! really enjoyed writing this one.

OH AND HUGEEEE CREDITS TO WHOEVER DID THE FANART OF CAITLYN MEETING WITH VI WHEN SHE WAS EMO😭😭 and i think caitlyn said something like "this is what you're up to?".

i can't find the fanart ANYWHERE. if someone has it, tag the account pleaseeeeeee🙏🙏 it's the whole reason i wrote this!!!

with that being said, i hope y'all enjoy :))

Her knuckles never hurt. 

As she’s curled up on her so very cold bed, around bottles of alcohol, she realizes her knuckles never hurt because she never really pays attention to them. Never has a reason to, either—she always focuses more on the rage than on the pain, too angry to focus on how her joints feel when she moves them. But lately they never stop hurting and, and her body never stops aching. Especially on that one spot; the one that was left bruised and bloody. The one where Caitlyn had hit her—the worst part is that she’s had worse. She was on fucking prison, for fuck's sake. 

Vi never liked showing weakness, but lately is all she knows, all she is. Weak. Her mind is plagued with it. Every time she’s alone with her thoughts, she just goes: weak weak weak weak weak weakweakweakweakweakweakweak—until she’s too drunk to think. Too drunk to stay steady on her feet that she has to lay down, and then falls asleep until she has a nightmare.

She lies on her back, her head heavy. Pain creeps up behind her eyes. She blinks. Lifts her hand and opens her palm, then closes it. It hurts. She ignores it and sits up, drinking up of the alcohol left in the bottle that she almost finished yesterday. She thanks God she didn’t, or else she doesn’t know what she would’ve done to wake up.

She sighs when someone knocks on her door.

Great, she thinks, sarcastically. Another fight. Right what I needed.

Okay, maybe not what she needs, but what she deserves. She deserves to hurt. To be thrown around like some kind of trash bag and punched until she's coughing up blood. And she fights back. She fights back because that's what the people like, the people who come to see her want her to win, and she wins and wins and wins. And she likes it. Some sick twisted part of her likes to win, to hear the praise, to know she's not letting people down but making them cheer.

Maybe another fight wasn’t what she needed. She wins, but at what cost? Her limbs are sore as fuck. But, still, today is a good day. Today is better than other days. Sometimes she wakes up with her chest burning in grief after a nightmare, and all she wants to do is fight. All she wants to do is put her fists to work. All of her anxiety and pain focused on anger. But she won the fight and people cheered for her more than they booed her. She’s at the bar, already a couple of drinks in. She didn’t have a nightmare today. Today is a good day.

Except, 

it isn’t. 

And she knows it.

Deep into her bones, she knows today wasn’t a good day. Or—well, she hasn’t had a good day for a long time, really. She can't catch a fucking break, can she? All her life has been followed by a tragedy on top of another tragedy on top of another and so on. Her parent's death, Vanders death, the little trip to prison, her sister turning Jinx, knowing what she thought was the love of her life hit her. And god, it hurts. This isn't the hurting that heals. This isn't a "good" type of hurting. This is the hurting that poisons, the one that makes you want to kneel on the floor and scream until you pass out. The one that makes you feel dizzy when you think about it. The one that makes you want to drink. The want that makes you think: stop. Stops stop stop. Because it hurts. And once you do, you won't stop hurting. 

Yeah. She probably should stop drinking. 

Who's there to stop her, anyway? Well—there was Loris. Until she got too angry one night and lashed out on him. And Vi? Fuck, she's good at making people angry. She was an older sister once, she knows a thing or two about choosing the right words to hurt people, to make them mad. To make them go quiet.

When she wakes up to a hand on her cheek, she thinks she's hallucinating.

It's not the first time. It's been happening a lot, the hallucinations. It's usually when she's drunk. It makes her feel crazy every time she catches a glimpse of Caitlyn, just looking at her with that look she though was love. What she thought was love, care, belonging. And every time it happens, she's reminded of all the things it wasn't. Was it even love, in the first place? Where the secret glances, soft touches, words spoken… nothing?

Vi blinks. Caitlyn is still there. She looks so… different. That's not her Caitlyn, Vi realizes. She looks hot, like always, but she has a weird look on her face that Vi has never seen. Is she confused? Sad? It looks very tender, though. It still has that touch of intimacy Caitlyn's eyes always reflected.

"I shouldn't be here," the Caitlyn speaks, standing up. Her hand leaves Vi's face, a sense of warmth leaving her cheek. Vi head is hurting. She blinks again. Shit. The hallucination is taking its time to leave. Vi mumbles something against her pillow. er mind still foggy with sleep. "Ambessa sent me on a mission, if she finds out I'm missing she'll kill me."

The Caitlyn brings a cloth near Vi's face, but she quickly pushes it away as she sits up. That's not her Caitlyn. That can't be. But she looks so different and real and Vi just pushed her hand away and Caitlyn looks surprised. It's not a hallucination, that she knows.

Vi's first reaction is to stare at her, just wide-eyed, lips slightly parted.

Caitlyn's shoulders slump as she reaches one more time to wipe Vi's face. There's a bucket next to the bed, and the white cloth she's holding looks clean. Vi has no idea where this all came from. She lets Caitlyn, who is avoiding her gaze, wipe her face.

"So, this is what you've been up to?" Caitlyn asks, dumping the cloth now black into the water, trying to clean it. "Getting yourself killed?"

"As if you're doing so much better," VI retorts.

Caitlyn reaches out to clean Vi's face again. Her hand drops to her side after. A beat. Then, "I'm done being angry."

Vi's quick to speak, "Well, I'm not."

"Of course you're not. I'm just letting you know. I don't—" Caitlyn stops talking. She takes a deep breath, still not meeting Vi's eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? For everything—"

"Sorry isn't going to cut it."

"Would you let me speak." She looks up, now eye to eye with her, finally. The cloth drops to the water. "Please, Vi."

"You don't need to apologize. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I told you, Ambessa sent me."

"So you just follow her around and do what she says?"

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it?!" She raises her voice. "You're completely different, Caitlyn. I'm not going to treat you the same just because you came here to… what? Check up on me? I don't even know what you're doing here. I thought I'd never—"

I thought I'd never see you again.

The words hang unspoken on the air. Vi really though she was never going to see Caitlyn again, and now she's here. Caitlyn is here, and she's taking care of Vi for some reason.

"I'm not even mad at you," Vi continues. She has the painful urge to touch Caitlyn, touch her face, put her hands on her hips, kiss her. This so she can convince herself Caitlyn is here and she's real and she hasn't left. She's glad more than she's mad, and it's pissing her off. She sits closer to Caitlyn. She doesn't deserve apologies, doesn't deserve anything that's close to good.

When Vi gets close enough to Caitlyn, when she can feel her soft breath against her face—when she thinks that another chance is so close she can feel it against her fingertips, that there can be another chance to mend amends, Caitlyn twists the knife.

"Vi?" She says, softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm seeing someone else."

Vi pulls away, breath slightly panted. She can't speak, there are no words left to say. She's completely, utterly alone. She's so stupid for thinking she wasn't. But, again, it's always been like this. She should've seen it coming.

Caitlyn stops looking at her once more.

"Who?" It is what she manages to speak.

"Maddie."

Vi looks away from Caitlyn. She doesn't know if she wants to cry or laugh. "You said Ambessa would kill you if she finds you here, you should leave."

"You're right." Caitlyn clears her throat, standing up.

And before Caitlyn walks away, Vi decides to say one last thing.

"She's not going to love you like I do."

"What?" Caitlyn turns around, eyes on Vi like she's hoping for something that won't come—doesn't exist.

"She's not going to love you like I did. But good luck out there, cupcake."

[haveateadude]

MASTERLIST

THE LAST OF US

⋆ ellie williams

BLEAK HORIZONS (tw: depression, family issues, self-harm, mention of reader not eating enough) part i part ii part ii

TOUCH STARVED

A SHOULDER TO CRY ON (tw: self harm)

DON'T SAY YES, RUN AWAY NOW (tw: homophobia, a guy named michael)

⋆ dina and ellie

I SHOULD PUT IT ALL BEHIND ME, SHOULDN'T I? (tw: ptsd)

ARCANE

⋆ caitvi

WHAT DID YOU DO TO MAKE MY HEART BLEED OUT MY CHEST?

[haveateadude]

this is so cute i want to die

⋆⁺₊❅.┆WARMTH - E.W

summary. you'd have to be a fool not to notice the cloud of stress that embodies your girlfriend whenever she returns from patrol. in an attempt to salvage the singular ounce of patience she's been desperately hanging onto for the past few weeks, you've yet to address it. but when she's assigned to go on patrol on christmas eve — which she'd been looking forward to spending in your company in hopes of being able to decorate your shared home prior to christmas — that seems to snap the thread. in her absence, you do all you can to alleviate a bit of the tension in her shoulder before her return. notes. the one, the only, jackson!ellie (cue everyone cheering bc ik i am). i've been dying to write something that aligns a bit more naturally with canon bc everything i have on his acc is an au. i love my stories, don't get me wrong, but i can't lie and day i'm happy with that fact. anyway! here she is!! merry chistmas to all who celebrate it, i love u guys <33333 wc. 1.6k

the moment the words left maria's mouth, ellie was already planning how to strangle the woman despite it not having been her fault. she's been on patrol day after day, making it nigh impossible for her to catch a fucking break.

it's her first christmas with you, the two of you having started dating in early march. she was so excited to spend the holiday with you, drinking cocoa by the fire and decorating the tree you'd picked out together. she had woke this morning with the widest smile in knowing it was christmas eve, waking you by peppering kisses across your face until you started giggling. the stark contrast between then and now is almost dizzying.

she'd been so happy in your company, nestled within the plaid covers on the bed. you skin radiated a gentle heat that she found herself clinging to. but then she was assigned this expedition and all the contentment instantly drained from her body as she dreaded sharing the news. but you weren't mad. you just gave a sad smile, an even sadder kiss, then told her to be safe. your lack of irritation almost made the entire thing more tragic.

it's been weeks since the two of you have been able to spend an entire day without interruption. something always arises — whether that be her abundance of patrols, your own mass of them, or one of you being called to speak with someone or work a shift at one of the shops. hence her excitement for christmas eve.

she's currently trudging through the snow with a deep scowl on her face. her boots crunch with each step, the sound only aggravating her. there's a low hum of civilization as she walks through the streets of jackson toward home. a few people attempt to speak with her, only to be dismissed rather harshly as she continues her march through the snow.

the weather is unbearable, a biting cold that makes her bones rattle. on top of that, the moon is high in the sky. meaning she was gone all day as she'd left at dawn.

she reaches your shared home, stomping up the steps of the porch before fumbling with the key. the metal feels like icy against her already frozen fingers as she struggles with it. she's about to give up and sleep on the porch when the door creaks open and your head pokes out. instantly, you beam at her. she gives a weak smile in return despite her personal distaste for the whole of today.

you reach for your coat, step into your slippers and join her on the porch. she's a bit confused by this, but says nothing. you're wearing a pair of festive pajama pants. they're adorable, though she knows they likely do nothing for the cold. you're shivering as you pull the jacket tight around your shoulders.

"what're you doing out here?" she asks, having to put an effort to keep her irritation out of her voice. after all, it's not you she's mad at. it's the situation. you're honestly the best thing that's happened to her today, providing her with warmth this morning as well as a kind smile right now in spite of her harsh tone.

"i have a surprise for you." you say through chattering teeth, which are upturned into a bright smile. "close your eyes before you go inside."

"babe, we agreed no presents until tomorrow." she huffs.

you shoot her a look and she instantly quiets, knowing what you're wordlessly conveying — a reminder to keep her attitude in check when you're done naught wrong. she obliges, offering an apologetic frown before placing her hands over her eyes. her frozen fingertips freeze the skin of her face and she shivers. but when she feels your hand wrap around her bicep and begin guiding her inside, warmth spreads across her at the feel of your comforting familiarity.

she steps inside and is assaulted by the scent of chocolate and pine. the scent of christmas. she's yearning to remove her hands, but withholds from doing so. for your sake. god, you're lucky she loves you so much or she'd not be doing this when her mood is so shitty.

she hears the door shut behind her, your footsteps moving about the living room as she continues to stand in place by the door. your now bare feet pad across the wooden flooring, her sense of smell and hearing heightened in the absence of her sight. the domesticity of your body moving around your shared home is almost overwhelmingly intimate. she knows the sound of your feet, hearing them all day every day. well, not so much recently. she hadn't noticed how much she missed such tiny details of you. like your footsteps — which are suddenly approaching her.

she expects your voice to come first, the order to remove her hands from her eyes. but instead, another sense is brought to her attention as she feels the gentle press of your lips against hers. it feels like the first time she'd ever kissed you. the way it shocks her, then comforts her, then an array of sparks and nerves trace through her body. she desperately wishes she could pull you closer, but her hands are currently unable to be used.

"okay." you breathe after pulling away, voice laced with childlike excitement. "you can open them."

she doesn't hesitate to do so, removing her hands from her eyes. the first thing she notices is you standing a mere two inches from her. everything else dulls in the wake of your brilliance. your festive pajama pants hanging from your hips, your coat still lazily draped over your shoulders, your hair clearly not having been brushed all day as it's frayed on the ends. she finds herself staring at you adoringly, her pupils blown in a sense of fondness.

you giggle, "stop looking at me, look at the house!" begrudgingly, she does. and, needless to say, she's not disappointed.

your guys' house is in the structure of a cabin, the walls and floors made of wood. it's small and open, allowing her to see the entire interior from where she stands. the christmas tree you two had chosen a few weeks ago is now adorned with yellow lights, casting a warm lighting across the space. a few presents sit beneath it, wrapped neatly with ellie's name scribbled onto the tags. the mantle above the fireplace is covered in cute decorations as well, snow globes and little glass deer sitting idly atop the wood. the kitchen is decorated as well, a ceramic santa sitting on the counter atop a plaid table runner. next to him sits two mugs, steam pooling over the edges of them — one red, one green. the perviously cold, empty house is now made into a cozy home.

you two haven't yet been dating for a year and you've already moved in together (lesbians smh), so the house has been rather empty. you've put in all the furniture with help from joel and jesse and tommy, but it's been missing something. the touch of love. the touch of you.

"do you like it?" you ask, nerves evident in your tone. she turns to notice you're wringing your hands, fiddling with your fingers in anticipation for her reply. you instantly rush out an explanation. "i know i probably should have waited for you because i know how excited you were to decorate, but i knew how stressed you've been and wanted to get something out of the way. so you wouldn't have to worry about it. i left a few things still empty, like your boxes are still in the bedroom and a few walls are blank because i don't know what you want hung there. also, i was struggling with the bathroom, so—"

she interrupted you by grabbing your face, cradling your warm cheeks in her frozen fingers. she smiles at you softly, "i love it."

a wide smile breaks across your face and you lean to kiss her. she kisses you back, now able to hold you as she wants. she pulls your body against hers, but you suddenly yank backward. she blinks a few times, worried she'd hurt you somehow.

"you're freezing." you state before raking your eyes up her body. "your jacket is still covered in snow and so are your shoes. els, go change before you get a cold."

she frowns but obliges. you're right, her jacket — which she'd, admittedly, stolen from joel a few weeks prior — is coated with snow and rain and whatever else she got into while killing infected all day. her converse are also wet, the snow having melted and seeped into her socks.

she goes into the bedroom, instantly smiling when she sees how you'd decorated it. the pillows are changed into red and green silk covers and there's a knitted rug on the floor. there's a candle on each nightstand, the scent of cinnamon and clove filling the air. through the window's newly installed crimson curtains, snow falls to the ground in gentle flurries. if you ask ellie, snow is much more enjoyable from afar.

she notices that your dresser is now full rather than having your entire wardrobe shoved into boxes. hers isn't though, as you hadn't known how she'd like her drawers organized. that's fine, though. she digs through the clothing for a comfy outfit and changes into it, now wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of dark grey shorts.

she exits the room to see you sitting at the counter with the red mug between your hands. you're blowing on the hot cocoa, your hair still messy. she joins you, sitting on the wooden stool to your left and grabbing the green one. you see her and smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek before you rest your head on her shoulder.

in this moment, under the warm glow of yellow christmas lights, amid the scent of your candles and chocolate and pine, and most of all being near you, she couldn't imagine ever being happier.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist @luvsturniolo @kasqnxx @xlovla @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @shawangel @defnoteleonor @fatbootymuncher

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist @kirammanss @serraphinm @dyk3miffy @vahnilla @mikellie @natgf123 @olkrai @ellieslittleslutt @gingerrgen @millersfinest @aliceellieswife @tthoroughfare

[haveateadude]

oh

“a bath together, please?”

feat. ellie williams

Ellie wasn’t really the bubble bath type until you came along. But now? She’s hooked on these quiet moments, the two of you tangled up in warmth, the faint scent of lavender filling the air.

The tub is just big enough for both of you to fit, Ellie leaning back against the porcelain while you settle between her legs, your back resting against her chest. The water is hot, the bubbles foamy and thick, and her arms wrap around your middle as if she never wants to let go.

“This is nice,” she murmurs, her voice soft against your ear. You feel her chin rest lightly on your shoulder, and the warmth of her breath sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat of the bath.

You tilt your head to glance at her, catching the faint smile on her lips. “You were skeptical at first,” you tease, poking at her arm with your wet fingers.

Ellie scoffs, pretending to roll her eyes. “Yeah, well… I didn’t realize baths could actually be relaxing. Guess I just needed the right company.”

Her hands move lazily, drawing little patterns on your skin under the water. Sometimes, her fingers brush against yours, and other times, she traces the curve of your arm or the faint outline of a scar she knows so well.

“..close your eyes,” she says suddenly, her tone mischievous but sweet.

You glance at her suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just trust me.”

With a small laugh, you oblige, closing your eyes. A second later, her wet hands cup your cheeks, and she plants a soft, playful kiss on your temple. Then one on your cheek. Then your jawline.

“Ellie!” you giggle, squirming a little.

“What?” she smirks. “You love it.”

You can’t deny it, so you lean back into her, your head resting against her shoulder. Her lips find your hairline, lingering there as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. The water ripples softly as you shift to lace your fingers with hers.

The bubbles start to disappear, and the water cools, but neither of you moves to get out just yet. These moments—simple, quiet, and filled with affection—are what Ellie cherishes most.

For a girl who’s seen so much darkness, having you here, soaking in the light, feels like the kind of peace she never thought she’d find.

[haveateadude]

guys does someone know abt hiina and jade?? the cosplayers?? if so dm me bc i desperately need someone to talk to about them LMAO (i need serious help)

[haveateadude]

me and bro when we get paired up for an assignment

I'm WHEEZING at arcane twitter's general consensus on this moment

[haveateadude]

THE WAY THEY GIGGLED OMFGGGGG LIFE ISN'T FAIR THEY'RE SOOO CUTE AHDJEHFK

caitlyn’s little smile is going to kill me

ft. bonus painting under the cut that i refuse to look at anymore

[haveateadude]

me and my sister in another universe

18 and 23 by the way

[haveateadude]

white lesbian my ASS im asian and this hurt

Someone on Twitter referred to Caitlyn as a “white lesbian” and I don’t even know what to say to that

asian curse

[haveateadude]

the beauty of it is that we still make it worth living

what if i drop to my knees and sob?? whoever wrote this gets it

arcane is painfully real and i don't say this enough but it is (without the like,, magic and shit). and it hurts. and that's what life is about. i loved the fucking ending idc what y'all say

leaving aside the fact that jinx is probably still alive, that ending was oddly comforting.

the two sisters will never grow old together in either timeline. but in each one where they do survive, they find happiness. they find purpose. they keep going. isnt that what we all do? the tragedy of life is that we will never get everything we want. the beauty of it is that we still make it worth living.

i know people are going to give the writers a lot of shit for this, but i admire that they took this direction. its painfully realistic, its bittersweet and it hit me harder than any piece of media has any right to.