#is this good? idk

[elsmstrss]

hi, love!! i was wondering if you could write something about ellie x gn! or fem! reader something g that goes like reader is found on a patrol around jackson and is brought in bc her family is dead and she’s alone. and so she meets ellie and kind of looks up to her and had a little crushy crush (like riley and ellie + their age gap). so like the reader is 15 and ellie is 17 and like ahahahhshahsjshskdjdi. they both have little crushes and eventually they have a sleepover and have a little innocent cute kiss 😭😭. so yeah basically just traumatized reader looking up to older!ellie (who’s like riley) and then they become friends with crushes and kiss!! love you lots 🫶🏼 and pls take care of your mental health before worrying about writing!

-star anon ⭐️⭐️

hello star anon <3 i have work in 4 hours but im writing this instead of sleeping because this prompt is so adorable it makes me sick !! also im gonna try and not make this too long so here's just a short blurb (edit: it definitely ended up being longer than intended i-)

When I met you

tags: ellie x gn!reader , fluff . tinsy but of angst , mentions of blood and death, teenage typical awkwardness , girls kissing , fluffy , traumatized!reader , sleepovers!! , also i didn't proofread this leave me alone it is midnight and i am falling alseep

You were horrified, trembling and covered in blood that wasn't yours. Bodies surrounded your fragile form, staining the snow red. The biting cold seeps through your pants as you fall to your knees. You barely remembered the events just moments ago, it all happening so fast.

Flashes of red, bodies hitting the snow, terrified screams, blade piercing flesh, silence. You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to focus on your breathing.

You and your family had heard of a small town, deep in Wyoming. Coming all the way from the other side of the country, barely escaping with your lives many times. Whether it be infected, starvation, or the elements, death was always right on your tail.

Well, I guess your luck was bound to run out sometime.

But why now? After everything, after being so close.

The thought causes a small tear to escape your eye and fall down your cheek. You sniffle, glancing down at your blood stained hands, grip loose around the knife you had used to take down the infected that had got your parents, had almost got you.

You hear some shuffling to your right, your hand tightening around the handle of your knife. You have almost no energy left, exhaustion pulling on your nerves and bones but when you start hearing voices, quiet mumbles and harsh whispers. You're trying, god you're trying so hard. Why can't you just breath? But you can't help how heavy your eyelids droop, vision blurring.

"Hey, we got a girl! Over here, quickly!" the voices get louder. You need to act fast, get the hell out of there.

Just as you finally mentally prepare yourself, you shift your weight, ready to stand. The movement must've been too sudden because you feel an instant rush to your head. You groan, the feeling making you queasy. Finally managing to your feet, you sway slightly, causing you to look down at your feet, hoping it will make you feel a bit more stable.

That was a mistake because the second you look down, you lock eyes with the lifeless stare of your mother, a random infected burrowed in her neck with a stab wound in its own.

The sight makes the queasiness a million times worse and you're struggling to breath again. Your breaths become erratic and short, lungs burning from the bite of the cold air.

You feel a hesitant hand on your shoulder followed by a whisper. You don't hear what's said because you immediately start screaming. The sound was sharp and it ripped through your throat.

You scream and scream and scream. You scream until there is nothing left and your vocal cords are raw. You let out the very last bit of whatever energy was left and began falling. It felt like slow motion, your vision going black.

-

When you came too, it was all too much. You had awoken in a random building, lights dim and warm, alone. You were clean, void of all grime and gore. Your body felt like lead and you could barely turn your head to observe your surroundings. You seemed to have been in a small room, on a bed with a wooden chair in the corner. You looked to your right and saw a small table with a glass of water and small note.

For when you wake up

-Maria

It couldn't have been longer than five minutes before the door had creaked open. The noise caused you to lurch forward, hand coming to your back on instinct, only to find that your knife wasn't there.

It was a woman. She had short blonde hair and cleft chin, hands up in a defensive position. "Woah, hey there! It's alright. I just came to check up on ya. Glad to see your awake," she rushes out.

You don't say anything, reluctantly laying back against the pillows, already tired from the action.

"I'm Maria. Welcome to Jackson." Your eyes widen at the familiar name. Jackson. The place you and your parents fought so hard to find. The place your parents will never get to see. You were alone.

Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden and your damned breathing started faltering. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands closing into fists, panic settling in. You feel like your falling again, even though your still in the bed and you want to cry but not in front of this stranger, and-

Warmth envelopes your form. Your eyes shoot open and you freeze. Maria was holding you, your head tucked into her chest.

You both stayed like that for a moment before Maria reaches over and presses something cool to your lips. It's the glass of water and it wasn't until then when you realized how dry your throat was, and so sore.

Maria smiles softly at you before placing the glass in your hands and brushing a stray hair from your face.

"You don't have to be alone here."

It's been three months since then and you've settled in to the community nicely.

After Maria showed you around and explained all the details of the commune, you became drawn to the stables. Your parents had lived on a farm together before the outbreak, always talking about how peaceful life was. How they hoped to find one for the three of you one day.

You spent every day since in the stables, reading about horses and how to take care of one. You excelled in riding lessons and was almost immediately assigned to stable duty.

You had been tending to the horses when you first met Ellie. You had seen her before. In the dining halls or even when she would come and pick Shimmer up before patrol training.

She was a bit older than you, an air of maturity surrounded her. She was so cool. And you maybe had a little teeny weeny crush on her. Ellie always threw you polite smiles and small waves but your interactions were never more than that.

Until one day, you were brushing Shimmer out, cooing and softly whispering sweet words to the horse. You couldn't help it, you found the horses just too cute.

"Aww does horsey like being pampered? Ohh yes the best gir-" The sound of a low giggle cuts you off, you flinch from the small spook and your eyes blow wide as you notice the source of the sound.

"Oh," you mumble, shocked to see Ellie herself just a few steps away from you and Shimmer, 'hello".

"Hey. Y/n, right?" you were surprised that Ellie knew your name. All you could do was nod. "You seem to know a lot about horses" she adds.

You nod slowly, again.

"Well, uh if you don't mind..."

"Oh! yeah, yes! Sorry," you back away from Shimmer, watching as Ellie saddles her up and wraps the reins around her hand.

"Guess I'll see you around?" Ellie tilts her down slightly to meet you eyes.

"Um, yeah! For sure," you swallow nervously and Ellie just smirks and turns on her heels, slightly tugging the reins for Shimmer to follow her.

You don't know why but Ellie started showing up to the stables a lot more frequently after that. At first you thought she was taking up more patrol shifts but you quickly realized she never took a horse with her when she would leave.

You quickly became close with the older girl, sharing a similar sense of humor, getting on Joel's nerves together or sneaking away to the movies.

And you told Ellie everything. How you made it to Jackson, how you think you might like girls too, how you fear being alone. She just always knew what to say, what you needed in that moment.

"Being alone is a fear I have too. I'm not sure if it will ever go away but you'll meet people who will make you forget," Ellie pauses and ruffles your head, causing frizzy flyaways to sprout from your hair. You go to complain but she cuts you off, "Like when I met you".

Your cheeks flush from Ellie's confession, shoving her hands away from your hair, fingers lingering maybe a bit too long.

Ellie had invited you over later that week.

"Bring some pajamas," was all she said before rushing off with Shimmer.

You had anticipated the sleepover all day, trying to find ways to stay busy and pass the time. You had spent lots of nights at Ellie's place but it was never for longer than a couple hours, and definitely never to sleep over.

The sun was setting when you heard a swift knock at your door. You rushed the door, reminding yourself to play it cool before swinging the door open.

Ellie was waiting there in all her glory, a little tired but she seemed excited for the evening as well. "Ready?"

You shove your feet into your shoes and scoop your backpack up that was already packed and ready at the door. "Mhm!"

You follow her back to her place, shoulders brushing and listening to her retell the events of her short patrol that day.

"Anyways I have some super fun things planned for tonight," she says over her shoulder as she pushes open the door to her room.

"Yeah? Like what?" you ask, dropping your bag and toeing your shoes off at the door.

"Top secret. Super confidential, sorry," she teases. You roll your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips because everything that Ellie says you find amusing.

The night goes as any other time you two hang out. You doodle together, or play some random card game, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. After Joel brings some food in for you both, that's when Ellie decides it's time to bust out the surprise.

"Okay!" she claps, "pajama time. Shoo shoo, go change," you sigh, slightly annoyed to be cutting your meal short but you oblige because you could never say no to Ellie.

By the time you come out of the bathroom, dressed in a huge hoodie, sleep shorts, and some fuzzy socks on your feet that Ellie had brought back from one of her patrols. It was a small gift but it always made you feel warm inside when you knew that Ellie thought of you.

"Are you gonna finally tell me what all the fuss is about?" you whine, plopping down on the bed next to her. She had also changed into something more comfortable. Seeing Ellie in her pajamas caused this overwhelming desire to latch onto her like a koala and never let go. She just looked so cozy.

"Don't know. You don't seem all that excited, maybe we should just go to sleep-" Ellie sighs, stifling a laugh at your annoyed expression.

You shove her shoulder playfully and Ellie clears her throat. "Drumroll please". You pat your thigh rapidly, the beat erratic, then Ellie whips out what seems to be some sort of comic.

Your eyes widen when as you recognize the cover, It was the sixth issue of Savage Starlight, a comic book Ellie had convinced you to read and effectively got you hooked on. It was something you both had in common and would often spend hours gushing over the story.

"No way! How did you get you hands on this!?" you reach for the comic book, rotating and examining it, grip gentle as to not ruin the obviously deteriorating cover.

"Found it a few days ago in an old bookstore. Was thinking maybe we could read it. Together," Ellie almost sounded shy. You nod your head excitedly, looking up at her.

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" you bounce a little on the mattress, smile wide, eyes nearly closed from how hard your grinning.

Ellie's can't help but feel so fond, your reaction worth almost getting mauled by an infected for the comic. Your enthusiasm dies down a bit as you notice Ellie's eyes on you. You start to feel a little self-conscious, face flushing pink.

It was that exact moment that Ellie couldn't keep it it any longer.

"Can I kiss you?"

You freeze, mouth slightly agape in shock. Did you hear her right? Ellie Williams wants to kiss me?

"Um, sure," your answer shocks you even more but you cant bring yourself to take it back because your lips are instantly met with Ellie's. Your stomach swoops, filling with butterflies as her slightly chapped lips stay pressed to your softer ones and your eyes slip shut.

Ellie is the first to pull away and you open your eyes to see she's still close, her own cheeks dusted pink. It wasn't anything but short and sweet, no longer than a peck but you couldn't help the happiness that bubbled up.

"C'mon," Ellie breaks the silence, "let's start the comic."

You glance down at your lap shyly, smile never leaving your face as you nod. "Yeah, okay."

And so you spend the rest of the night, shoulders pressed together as Ellie reads out the comic to you in silly voices, eventually falling into a comfortable slumber, head rested on Ellie's shoulder.

[crueclown22]

“Benson, please.” Randy whispers, pausing to put his toothbrush down. He’d been practically tortured all day; Benson just wouldn’t let up no matter what he did. He’d tried to tell him to stop, that he almost couldn’t handle it, but it just came out as little whimpers. The sounds only seemed to fuel him, however, as every time he’d let a small noise slip or shifted in place Benson would only hold him tighter, bite a little harder.

“Please what?” Benson mumbles, his teeth sinking in just a bit further than he’d been biting. It makes Randy let out a loud shaky breath, something that made him want to just pin him down, bite him all—

Randy suddenly shifts his hand to put on top of Benson’s, his nails digging slightly into his skin. The movement makes him look up, making him let out his own shaky breath as he sees the sight in the mirror.

Randy was red. His eyes were closed, shut tightly, and he was biting his lip so hard that he could swear he could see blood dotting on his bottom lip. Benson couldn’t help but smile; the fact that he had such an effect of him….He had to fight off a shiver at the thought. The only thing that tears him out of his thoughts was the state of Randy’s neck.

Red with splotches of purple all around it, it was clear that Benson had paid it extra special attention that day. It was littered with bite marks, the imprint of his teeth prominent in every place he could possibly reach. The sight makes him lower his mouth onto Randy’s neck once more, biting harshly.

“Jesus—“ Randy couldn’t help but whimper, his nails digging further into the thin skin of the back of Benson’s hand. Benson almost couldn’t hear him; he stared back at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his eyes drifting over to Randy’s face.

“Open your eyes.” Benson mutters, his other hand moving up to his chest.

“What?” Randy breathes out, turning his head slightly to him. Benson glides his hand up, grabbing his face softly and turning it back to the mirror.

“I said, open your eyes.” Benson repeats, his eyes not leaving Randy’s reflection as Randy hesitates. After a moment, he finally does, a soft, almost desperate look meeting his own reflection. It takes him a minute, but his eyes finally drift down to the reflection of his neck, his eyes widening.

“Benson.” Randy hisses out, his voice sounding almost pathetic and more like a whine than anything intimidating. He turns his head to look at Benson.

“It’s pretty.” Benson insists, grabbing his face once more and turning it back to make him look at himself.

“I have work tomorrow.” Randy says, his voice laced with a barely concealed panic.

“No, you don’t.” Benson says, his lips attaching to Randy’s neck once more. “Remember?”

Randy doesn’t answer, just shaking slightly in Benson’s arms. “You look pretty.” Benson repeats, his eyes scanning over his face. He did look pretty; his flushed face, bruised up neck, Benson’s Motörhead shirt hanging loosely off his thin shoulders…

“Say you look pretty.” Benson says after a moment of staring back at the reflection. He sees Randy hesitate, hearing him swallow. His hand tightens on Randy’s jaw once more, turning his head.

“I look pretty.” Randy mumbles, his eyes drifting back down to his neck. Benson feels a shiver go down Randy’s spine, the small whimper as he sucks on the sensitive skin once more just fueling him more. “More.”

[cardiaccat]

the crushing weight of being the first overall pick

1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 // 12 // 13 // 14 // 15

[jeansyvesmoreau]

I was bored so I edited the wesper still

[blorbopolis]

im cooking

[vinylattes]

What is the key to enjoying life? (x)

[reallybadblackoutpoems]

meditations on first philosophy (1641) - rene descartes

"who give a shit"

[adjit]

I think we need to get more comfortable with the idea that sometimes shitty, racist, homophobic, bigoted people are still incredibly talented.

I feel like every time I see a post addressing someone’s shitty behavior the post also takes the time to mention that they’re not even good at [x] anyway. And that’s just not always true? Equating being good at a skill as being morally good is just not necessary. Someone can be a fantastic writer, can have a beautiful singing voice, can create breathtaking artwork, and still be a horrible person.

I know part of this is probably just the instinct to dislike everything about a person when you dislike them, but I also think this mindset leads to people defending creatives way past where they should, because if bad people create bad art, then if this person creates art that I like and resonates with me, then they can’t be a bad person!

And you know. That’s just not true. Those two things are simply completely unconnected and I think it’d be healthier if we all started disconnecting them in our heads.

[pien-art]

alright, they got to me :)

(click image for optimal quality)

for my most dearest @cecefly <33

[punkeduppirate]

look at you, you're gorgeous💥

[tartanthermos]

Good Omens S1E1 | S2E6

[utilitycaster]

"why should I get invested in shows if they'll just get canceled" I was deeply invested in Heroes (2006) and it was not canceled, it just got really terrible. I also got really invested in the sandwich I had a few weeks ago despite it only lasting like 15 minutes. You must embrace the ephemeral. You must be willing to love things that may not love you back, that might betray you, or that may die an untimely death. As the great philosopher Mr. Mitchell Lee Hedberg said "I'm not gonna stop doing something because of what happens at the end."

[glorious-spoon]

i'm very picky about tv shows, but my pickiness has only an incidental relationship to whether or not a show is "good". it needs to scratch a particular itch in my brain at the right moment. do i know what the right moment is? no. do i know what the itch is? also no. i can be relied upon to get instantly bored of 85% of tv shows and then turn the remaining 15% into a central facet of my personality for 3-5 business months and even i am incapable of predicting which one it'll be ahead of time.

[science-lings]

my dad saw ao3 open on my computer and asked if that was like my writing club and just so you know that's what fanfic writers are now, we're all in the same writing club where we all write about the same media and show each other our little stories and that's kind of cool actually

[wolfythewitch]

Jonny boy

[randomfandomss]