#<- it will be in f&f... eventually

[jasontoddapologistt]

good news my fantasies abt vigilante that helps the heroes then runs away bc they have severe abandonment issues that started out when writing rlly shitty arrow verse fanfic has returned...

[umblrspectrum]

the Solver of the Absolute Fabric, the Void, the Exponential End acting like an entitled toddler is the funniest thing

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (1)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Nancy is with Jonathan; Steve is still in love with Nancy; You're in love with Steve; Eddie's in love with you; Robin just wanted to have a movie night but everyone is making it weird.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

A/N: I'm going to let y'all decide who our reader ends up with for this one- please let me know who you think our reader should pick! I think this will be another 5 part series. Please let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs and hitting up my asks are always so so so appreciated.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

It was always Nancy. No matter what it always came back to Nancy. It happened over and over and over like a broken record. Like a glutton for punishment, you always went back for more thinking to yourself this time it’s going to be different. Squished on the lumpy loveseat with Robin, you watch Steve as he watches Nancy. You were pathetic and you knew it. Hopelessly in love with someone who’d never in a million years look at you the way he’s looking at her.

Eddie sits on the floor between your legs with his back rested against the front of the couch as you aimlessly braid his hair. You run your fingers through his hair, carefully navigating through the tangles. You pull strains and weave them together without needing to think about it- you’ve done it a million times before. Eddie would let you do whatever you wanted, he loved the feeling of your hands in his hair. He’d lean his head back as far as he could manage, and shoot you an upside down smile. It always made you giggle before you would use your palm to gently put his head back into place. 

It was quite a sight for Robin, like the most fucked daytime drama never written, if she knew how to read the room and pick up on the very obvious clues before her. Steve, her platonic soulmate and best friend, pining over his ex-girlfriend while you, her other best friend, pine over Steve and all the while Eddie, Steve’s roommate and your other best friend, pines over you. It was enough to make her sick. All the while, Nancy is completely oblivious as she checks her watch, waiting expectantly for Jonathan- her actual boyfriend- to arrive. Despite the mess before her, Robin was none the wiser. 

She knew Steve was still hung up on Nancy, because he never shut up about her during their shifts. However, you felt you kept your lovesick crush on Steve under pretty good wraps. Unfortunately, Eddie was so preoccupied with you that he felt it every time your eyes were on Steve or he’d witnessed all the small things you’d do that convinced him you actually liked Steve. 

He’d watch as you couldn’t make eye contact with Steve, looking everywhere but him when he spoke. He’d watch the way you’d steal glances at him when you thought no one else was looking. He’d see the way you’d take a deep breath to compose yourself when you’d see Steve looking at Nancy. The same way you’d break your own heart looking around for Steve, he’d be doing the same looking at you watching him. 

You’d watched one too many movies where the guy realizes the right girl all along was his best friend. You thought if you were patient, Steve would realize he’d been in love with you the whole time and he never realized it. If you’re there for him in his times of heartbreak, he’d see that you’re so much better for him than anyone else. He’d see you, really see you, and know you were the one who was always there. 

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Robin said suddenly before reaching for the bowl of popcorn at the coffee table.

“Anthony Michael Hall is making a robot girlfriend because he can’t get girls,” Steve explains, coming off a little perturbed that Robin was talking during the movie again. 

“They could’ve just asked out a couple of more girls- they didn’t need to let their end all be all be two girls with boyfriends,” she continues and Steve scoffs. He couldn’t believe he was really about to have a debate on realism with Robin right now over fucking Weird Science. 

“This’ll actually happen one day,” Eddie muses and is met with four heads whipping around to give him the same weird look. “You’re telling me that like fifty years from now, no one will have this figured out? AV geeks are desperate enough- Ow!” You’d hit him playfully on the back of the head. 

“You’re not one to criticize anyone for being desperate, Munson,” Steve chuckles and Eddie promptly flips him off. “You don’t exactly have them lining up for you either.”

“It’s been a pretty dry few years yourself King Steve,” Eddie mocks, and you see Steve crack his knuckles nervously, hating the conversation going down this road. No one meant for it to happen, but now you’re all wrapped up reflecting in your own loneliness that the mood of the evening was almost completely dampened. 

“Can you guys be quiet,” Nancy chastises, “Some of us are trying to actually watch the movie.”

“You cannot be serious?” Robin giggles, “It’s a stupid movie, Nance.” 

The night took a weird shift. Jonathan did eventually stroll in and Nancy was understandably hurt that he was so late. He pulled a kitchen chair over to sit next to where Nancy sat but she promptly decided to ignore him, silently stewing instead of causing a scene. Steve recoiled back into his own head- Eddie’s King Steve comment affecting him more than he thought it would. He watched Anthony Michael Hall and kept wondering if this would be his fate- no bitches. Had he really been that guy to have peaked in high school and then is destined to end up alone?

Steve’s comment towards Eddie made him also get lost in his own stream of self deprecating thoughts. He knew Steve was joking- but there was truth to it that made it sting. Eddie didn’t have a lot of experience with girls, most girls- hell including the one he was actually in love with- wanted really nothing to do with him. He wasn’t that guy. Girls didn’t look at him like that like they looked at Steve- how you looked at Steve. It made him jealous and sad and made him feel so painstakingly lonely despite being in a room full of his closest friends as you played with his hair. He could scream. 

And as usual, you preoccupied yourself with Steve- thinking about what Steve could be thinking about or watching the way Steve anxiously rubbed his palms against his jeans. Was Steve thinking about Nancy? Maybe, just maybe, you could catch him looking at you, even if just once. Maybe Steve would get up and go to the kitchen, and it could be an opening for you to check in with him since he’s seemed off tonight. You felt hopeless. 

Robin just assumed most people were quiet because they genuinely were watching the movie, but she realized something was wrong when she was the only person laughing. It couldn’t be that she was the only one who wanted to crack jokes or laugh at this godforsaken movie. She eventually caught on to something brewing in the air amongst her friends and it was incredibly unsettling. 

“GOD! I can’t take it anymore!” She exclaims, and everyone jumps. “What is wrong with everybody tonight? You all are acting so effing weird and I can’t stand it.” 

“Everyone’s fine, Robin,” you offer, trying to diffuse the tension. She shooks you a look. A “do you think I’m fucking stupid” look that could kill. Fair enough, you think to yourself. 

“Clearly something is wrong,” she reiterates. Annoyed with Nancy, Jonathan takes the bait and casts the first stone. 

“I don’t know,” Jonathan muses, looking at Nancy before letting out his irritation, “Might have to do with the fact you hang around with your ex all the time- and it’s clearly obvious he still has feelings for you.” 

Nancy gasps, offended that Jonathan would bring a fight that they’d had before into the room for everyone to comment on. Jonathan knew how Steve felt, and Nancy’s refusal to acknowledge his concerns on numerous occasions has finally made Jonathan hit his breaking point. He needed her to realize that he wasn’t jealous of Steve- but Steve was jealous of him. Nancy denied that Steve still held feelings for her. She was actually oblivious. 

“Steve and I are just friends!” Nancy insists, “I have told you that and told you that! It’s like you don’t trust me!”

“I don’t trust him!” Jonathan emphasizes. “Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, he still likes you and you still keep hanging around with him when you’re supposed to be with me, Nance.”

“I am with you! I’m your girlfriend, not his,” she snaps. “Steve, come on, please tell him he’s being ridiculous.” 

Most unfortunately, Steve stutters. He hesitates and fumbles, and couldn’t lie fast enough. The pregnant seconds where he’s at a loss for words tells Jonathan everything he needs to know. It doesn’t feel good to know he was right. 

“Sounds about right,” Jonathan scoffs.

“It’s not her fault-” Steve tried to interject. 

“Stay out of it Steve,” Jonathan sighs, “please.”

This fight was not about Steve, and everyone knew it. This was about Jonathan, and the way he hurt when Nancy dismissed his feelings. It was about how she didn’t take his concerns seriously or ever was willing to talk about it. He was sick of being dismissed as paranoid or jealous. He knew Nancy had no idea how Steve felt, but it wasn’t an excuse to inadvertently gaslight him when he knew something felt off. 

“I’m going home,” Nancy says, sitting up suddenly in hopes of making a swift exit to save her pride. 

“Nope!” Robin interjects, “We aren’t done. I’m not letting any of you leave until all of it is out in the open. I can’t go on like this. You guys are my best friends and we are working all of this shit out.” She takes a steady breath and Nancy surprisingly sits back down calmly. “So props to Jonathan for getting the ball rolling,” Robin quips, “let’s actually keep talking things out, yeah?”

“Steve?” Nancy looks at him, and she looks hurt. She feels so betrayed- like all of the times they’ve spent together as friends has been a lie. A ruse to win her back- she feels lied to and like she’s simultaneously lost a friend in the same breath. It guts her. She’s too stunned to even know what to say. 

Steve keeps his head down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He holds his head in his hands. You watch him intently, you absorb all his hurt like a sponge. You keep your gaze on him, wanting to reach out and comfort him. You look like a puppy who's been hit on the nose with a newspaper and Eddie scoffs. 

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Munson?” Robin turns, picking up on Eddie’s disgust. He shakes his head and avoids her knowing gaze. Fuck it, he thinks to himself. 

“I’m fucking pissed,” Eddie announces, standing up. The braid you were in the process of making slowly unravels as he moves. He looks to you and then to Steve. “I’m not even pissed at anyone, I’m just stewing in my own self-hatred because I’m in love with her.” Eddie points to you dramatically, not even realizing how much he’s revealing as his emotions get the best of him. “But she’s so in love with you,” Eddie points a finger at Steve, “That she doesn’t even notice me.”

“I don’t even blame anyone- of course you love Steve, you know? It just fucking sucks because I watch you and you’re always watching him and you keep hoping he’s going to see you and he never does. Meanwhile, I’m so in love with you that it physically hurts and I can never tell you because you’re my best friend and Steve is my best friend. And if you like her back, Steve, you should go for it. I can’t even put myself out there cause scenario one, I lose you,” Eddie gestures to you. “Scenario two- Steve gets his head out of his ass and you two finally get together. I lose both of you, because I can’t put myself through watching someone I’m in love with be with someone else. Or scenario three- you and I do get together and I’m all in- I swear to god, I would be all fucking in. But would you ever even love me as much as you’ve loved him? I don’t know.” 

It’s your turn to be stunned. For the first time, Steve’s looking at you and it’s not at all what you hoped it would be. You recognize the look in his eye, it’s the same way Nancy was just looking at him. Pity. You know then and there that Steve never once thought about you the way you hoped he secretly did. It was all made up in your head. Eddie looks defeated, and mortified all at the same time. He shocked himself at his outburst. He’d always been one for dramatics but never at your expense. He feels so guilt ridden that he could shrivel up and let the world swallow him whole. 

“I, uh, need to get some air,” you say. You grab your jacket from the hook and slide on your shoes in one fluid motion. “I’ll be back,” you say quickly, slamming the door behind you as you left Eddie and Steve’s apartment. You can’t help as the tears stream down your face uncontrollably. It’s one of those cries where it’s so hard you can’t even make noise as it takes all of your breath away. You’re practically doubled over in the midst of a panic attack when Eddie finds you leaning against the building. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he says earnestly, “That was so fucked up. I am so, so sorry. That wasn’t fair to you, that was such a shitty thing for me to say.” 

You manage to nod to let him know you heard him, but you’re blubbering and you’re still struggling to get your breath back. Hiccuped breaths finally catch up to you and you feel your lungs slowly begin to refill with air. The night’s cold air helps to clear your sinuses in one big breath. You wipe your face with the sleeves of your jacket. You can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet. 

“Steve is so lucky,” Eddie says after another few moments of silence. “To be loved by you?” He chuckles, taking a lean on the wall next to you. “Lucky bastard,” he jokes, and you manage a forced smile through the tears. “Must be the best damn thing in the whole world and he doesn’t even realize it,” he continues more seriously. “Well, until now, when I ruined everything,” he finalizes, sheepishly. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it either,” you mumble, “God, what Steve was doing to me- I was doing to you? Fuck.” 

“Fucked up, right?” he teases. “How’s it feel, heartbreaker?”

“Really, really shitty,” you settle on and he laughs. 

“Yup,” he agrees, making a pop sound at the end. “Really, really shitty. Indeed.” 

“God, I wasted so much fucking time,” you admit to yourself. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he says softly, helping fix the collar of your jacket. It was tucked in because you put it on so fast and didn’t bother to fix it. “That I wouldn’t be able to trust you with Steve or whatever if we hypothetically got together or whatever- it was just a really, really ugly insecurity that bubbled up. If after this all blows over and you don’t completely hate my guts, and maybe by some miracle you wanted to give us a chance, I wouldn’t hold your feelings for Steve over you like that.” 

“Did you mean it that I’d lose you?” you ask, looking to him. He shakes his head. 

“I was talking out of my ass,” he admits, “I was emotional and just letting my frustration get the better of me. I won’t stop being your friend if you don’t like me back.”

“I’ve been doing that already,” he jokes and you swat his arm. 

“Not funny,” you grumble, but you can’t find it in you to actually be upset. 

“I don’t want an answer from you now,” he says, shifting back to a serious tone, but you can hear how nervous he is. “But if and when you get over Steve, and you realize I’m not that bad to look at- maybe you and I could go out sometime. I’m putting the ball in your court. I just want you to be happy. If you end up with Steve, I’m your best man. You end up with me, I’ll work my hardest every damn day to make you so fucking happy. No matter what, I will be your friend. You aren’t losing me.”

“Thank you,” you smile, and you pull him into a hug. You finally start to feel okay again. You feel like you could get over Steve, but then you remember that everyone inside is waiting for you- including Steve. The anxiety begins to stir and you can’t imagine facing everyone now after all of this. 

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, taking your hand, “We’ll go back together.” 

Eddie’s held your hand a million times before, but it wasn’t until now that you realize how well your hand fits in his. You shake your head to erase the thought from your mind for now and try to relax. The walk back up to the apartment is much longer than it’s ever felt before.

No one says anything when you both come back. You and Eddie kick off your shoes and he helps you take your jacket off. You sniffle, and quickly take your seat back on the loveseat. Eddie slips into the kitchen and grabs a six pack from the fridge. He holds it up like a fish he’s just caught triumphantly. 

“I think we all need one, yeah?” He jokes and he diffuses the tension as everyone agrees in tandem. He pulls them apart from the plastic ring, tossing them out. He throws you a wink when he tosses you yours and you can’t help but smile. 

“Can I just say,” Robin says, “Had I known you all were upset about actually serious stuff- I wouldn’t have opened this can of worms. I thought you were just pissed at each other about the comments about not getting laid.”

Nancy and Jonathan must have made up while you were outside because instead of separate seats, Jonathan sat on the living room chair and Nancy was perched on his lap. Steve was just watching you. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that Nancy was there. He was fixated on looking at you. He was taking in everything about you like he was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time. 

Fuck, if you weren’t beautiful, Steve thinks. He always knew you were, but he never really thought about it until now. Even after crying, you just look so pretty. He’s pained knowing he’s caused you so much pain. He looks to Eddie and feels jealousy rise irrationally. He’s jealous of Eddie for realizing how perfect you were before he did. It’s so fucking petty and he knows it. Eddie’s had all this time to adore you, while he’s squandered it following around Nancy like a simp. He’s loved you and lost you in the same fucking night.

“Let’s keep going,” Eddie jokes, trying to make light of the situation, “Air out more grievances- Buckley, you need new shoes. Those fucking chucks are abhorrent- please, get new ones. They are why your back hurts all the time.” 

“Okay, Mr. Same White Reeboks Since Senior Year,” she taunts, feigning offense to his jab. “Keep my converse out of your mouth!”

“I have boots now,” he says, pointing to the leather boots by the door. “Much more metal.” 

“Cause it’s fucking January, Eddie,” Robin says with a laugh, “Of course you’re wearing fucking boots.”

“Yet you strolled into my house wearing Converse,” he says walking over the the floor and pointing at Robin’s worse for wear Chuck Taylors. “It was snowing this morning, Robin! Please, as your friend- please let ME get you new shoes.”

“You can pry those shoes off of me when I’m dead,” she raises her voice. The lighthearted air has returned to the evening. It felt like it had been salvaged for now. Everyone seemed to be feeling better, except Steve. As the world began to pick up again, he was paralyzed- burdened with the knowledge of your feelings for him and knowing he might be too late to do anything about it. Was it?

PART TWO

[oxavierart]

Kum Haehyun Posting

[ivanscarf]

allies idol au!

[cyberels]

later, loser.ᐟ ᯓ★

˗ˋˏ 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ-

☆ ellie discovers the quickest way to get a girl underneath her

daily click! palestine masterpost

☆: sometimes i start writing without a plot in mind to get myself out of a funk and and and this is what i came up w lol so sorry if it’s doodoo ass

☆ warnings -> mention of blood, injuries, all that good shit that comes with skateboarding, probably really inaccurate skating talk, drugs, tbh probably really bad writing but bare with me here, no concept of stranger danger from reader when she sees a hot girl (ellie) for plot reasons lol

☆ skaterboarder!ellie yayyy she wears glasses because i said so &&&&& also ellie works at a vinyl shop and reader works at a bakery :)

☆ ☆ ellies playlist! ☆ ☆

u don’t have to listen but i made it to listen while i write and i thought it’d be fun to add

my masterlist

ellie was no stranger to making mistakes, she’s human, it happens… however, she usually doesn’t make this many stupid choices within the span of one single hour.

today, ellie was running late.

mistake number one.

she practically flew out of the door and hopped on her board, mumbling a half assed apology to her neighbor who she accidentally shoulder checked on her way out when she put on her headphones.

she’s probably going way too fast, but she’s been skateboarding for years, she can handle it. she still has the penny boards that she started skating on when she was 12 hanging up in her living room, right beside some of her other boards she’s had since then that she’s either destroyed or replaced. she weaved in and out of the people walking practically effortlessly, not caring if she was pissing anyone off, they’d live. she’d never have to see them again, anyways.

she opened her phone to turn on her music.

you, on the other hand, were taking your time; you had a good while until you had to be at work. you’ve created a habit of looking for ladybugs in the bushes outside your apartment complex after you noticed that the plant is home to many of the little insects. usually you just glance at the plant as you pass by, but today, you fully stopped to look.

unfortunately, you were unaware of ellie being just feet away from you.

guess you’re no stranger to mistakes, either.

granted, ellie would have had enough time to stop… if she was paying attention.

which she was not.

mistake number two.

you hear a string of curse words behind you. you barely manage to turn around before you’re pushed into the bushes by a girl who promptly lands on top of you. her skateboard rolled away pathetically. it’s almost like it was embarrassed, too.

if there had been any ladybugs, they were definitely squashed now.

you open your eyes slowly to find the other girl hovering just above you. her necklace dangles temptingly close to your lips as she pushes herself up. she's still on top of you, her face just inches away from yours. she blinks a few times, slowly taking in the situation. she seems lost in thought, the wheels in her head turning painstakingly slowly as she tries to comprehend what's happening and her part in it.

she’s taking way too long to get off of you, though, which only serves to frustrate you more.

“hellooo? can you get up?” you mumble through gritted teeth to the girl above you, turning your head to the side to avoid her gaze.

in hindsight, you probably should’ve asked if she was okay, but right now all you wanted to do was get up and pretend like this never happened.

you don’t even want to know how many people saw you fall.

“oh— oh fuck.” ellie stuttered, taking one last glance at you before she moved herself onto the sidewalk, not finding the strength to stand up fully just yet.

she grabbed her headphones that had been flung off in the impact. small scrapes lined the side of them, but at least they probably still worked. she put them around her neck, letting her head fall back in her hands. she took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on her emotions and the situation.

you sigh as you get up, and ellie can tell you’re mad based solely on how the exhale of air sounded.

“uh… you good?” you ask after an uncomfortable pause, eyeing the other girl. it was obvious you didn’t really care, but at least you tried to be polite.

you were still taking your time collecting yourself, brushing leaves out of your hair and wiping blood from your hands onto your jeans (thank god you wore black jeans today). you were definitely going to be sore tomorrow, but other than your scraped up hands, you were fine.

just really pissed off.

ellie looked up at you and then immediately looked back down, running her hands over her face once more. “yeah, i’m… good.”

you roll your eyes as you hold your hand (the one with the least amount of scrapes) out towards ellie, offering to pull her up. you can't help but feel pity as she sits on the sidewalk. not in a sympathizing way, but more of a "damn, this girl looks pathetic" way. she hesitates for a second, but then grabs your hand and smiles weakly.

“thanks.”

as much as you know that this situation partially is your fault, you’re still annoyed. you had spent so long getting ready today just to have some idiot push you into dirt.

when you speak again, your words come out harsher than you intended… not that you minded. “yeah. watch where you’re fucking going next time.”

ouch.

okay, maybe (keyword: maybe) ellie had caused the worst part of this, but she wasn’t going to sit here and take you blatantly being rude when you’re just as much to blame as she is. “maybe if you didn’t think you owned the sidewalk, i wouldn't have ran into you.”

you reach down beside you and grab her, now shattered, phone and her (also shattered) glasses. you raise your eyebrows as you look over the broken screen.

“maybe if you were paying attention.” you pause, wiggling the phone in front of her face. “you would’ve realized i stopped walking.”

she snatched her things back, she didn’t have a comeback for that.

her phone was fucked… usable, but the screen was shattered so badly that if she scrolled on it she’d probably slice open her thumb. small price to pay, she figures.

it’s not like she’s gonna buy a new one… but she would have to cough up the money for new glasses, though. damn it.

“why the hell did you stop walking anyways?”

you hesitate, looking back at the bush sheepishly, vaguely gesturing towards it as you speak again. “i— not that it’s any of your business— i wanted to see if there were any ladybugs on the leaves.”

“…oh.”

well now ellie just feels like a dickhead, because that’s actually really cute. that was not the answer she was expecting.

you continue looking away and ellie sighs, attempting to push past you to grab her skateboard.

mistake number three.

the second she takes a step, she falls into you again, her ankle completely giving out underneath her. you catch her, your arms wrapping around her hips as you hold her up.

ellie has never wanted to die more than she did at this moment.

her face was literally sandwiched in between your chest. she pushed herself back, hopping slightly.

what the fuck just happened?

“oh my fucking god. i’m so sorry. i– oh fuck, this is so awkward.”

yeah, awkward was one word for it. you stare at her blankly for a moment before you kick her skateboard towards her.

you could feel her touch lingering on your body like she was still there. if your hands were just a little lower you would’ve…

“its– it’s fine. dude, are you sure you’re alright?”

you sound more like you care this time, at least.

not that you do care, or anything,

just trying to make sure she wasn’t seriously hurt.

that’s all.

“i’m fine.” it was an obvious lie, but she was preoccupied with thinking about how she was going to skate to and from work if she could barely walk… she’d have to deal with it, she decided. there wasn’t any other option for her right now, she was already late.. “i’ll be fine.”

“very convincing.” you reply, looking her up and down. “you’re not seriously about to get on that thing again, are you?”

“not that it’s any of your business, but i don’t have any other choice, i’m gonna be late to work and this is all i have to get me there.”

you narrow your eyes at her.

no way this girl was reckless and stupid.

“what? you can’t be serious… you’re still going to work? are you an idiot?”

ellie doesn't answer right away, glancing down at her skateboard for a bit. you’re right, she should call out, but she hated the prospect of missing a day of work. money had been tight, even one missed day would be hell for her and her bank account.

“you gonna give me the money i’d lose if i called out?”

you opened your mouth to reply, but she was already flying past you, very clearly having a hard time but also very clearly not caring.

“don’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk next time, dumbass!” she yelled, leaving you standing in the same spot just watching her leave.

…and kinda wishing she’d come back.

just so you could get the last word.

when you walk into work, it’s unfortunately obvious that you’re pissed off, if the way your manager immediately asks what happened as soon as you clocked in was anything to go by.

you’re thankful for the excuse to rant, though.

“god, abby, where do i even start? i literally just walked out of my apartment and some girl on a skateboard slammed into me and we both went flying into a stupid plant. got a face full of bush and not even the good kind.”

“jesus,” abby laughed, picking a leaf out of your hair. “was she hot?”

“was she hot? is that seriously all you’re gonna say?”

“...well?”

“i hate you so much… but yeah, she was.” you admit, defeat obvious in your tone. you’re well aware that this would’ve been a lot easier for you if you didn’t find the dumb skater attractive. you’d been close enough to her face to see every detail… her freckles, her eyes, her lips— damn it. you couldn’t get her out of your head.

this felt like a sick joke.

abby clapped her hands together. “this isn’t a completely bad thing! did you get her number?”

“no, abby, i didn’t get her number. i was too busy trying to get her away from me because she was stupid and annoying.”

“you’re no fun, could’ve got yourself a skater girl.” she frowned. “are you okay though?”

“you should’ve led with that question, you know?” you huff, looking at the scrapes on your palms again. “i’m fine.”

“yeah, yeah. i should’ve.” abby tosses a pastry towards you. “here, for your troubles, on the house. go sit down in the break room for a little bit, you look like a mess.”

“gonna ignore the last part. thanks, abs.”

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

“jesus fucking christ.” ellie mumbled to herself, hopping off her board before she opened the door to the small vinyl store she worked at.

“late again, williams— oh. oh wow. you look like shit.” austin, the owner of the shop spoke, nudging ellie as she walked by. he was wearing a stupid smirk on his face which made ellie more aggravated.

asshole.

“real nice.” ellie grumbled, putting up her skateboard and backpack. “sorry for being late, won’t happen again, i just— some people are so stupid, you know?”

“by ‘some people’ do you mean you?” he laughed, spinning on his chair. he mocked the way ellie spoke, doing a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like her.

god, he was a 30 year old man-child, but he pays her… so… whatever. she’ll deal.

“ha-ha. good one.”

“ya gonna tell me what happened or are ya gonna leave me guessin’?”

“what happened is people don’t know how to walk anymore.” she scoffed, taking stock of the money she had to count before putting it in the drawer. “so fucking stupid.”

“by the looks of it you don’t know how to walk anymore, either. you gonna be able to work? i’m not payin’ ya to sit around, so if i need to call someone else in…”

she glared at him, trying to see if he’d explode if she stared hard enough.

he was right though, unfortunately, ellie was walking like she had just learned how to. it wasn’t the worst injury she’s ever got from skateboarding, but it was definitely inconvenient.

“yeah, i’ll be fine.” ellie snapped, shifting her weight to her good foot to avoid making her injury any worse. “jesus christ, it’s a twisted ankle. i’m not missing a limb.”

“but—“

“drop it.”

he put his hands up in mock surrender, the smirk still on his face. “oooookay, okay. whatever you say williams. you were still late though, let’s go back to talkin’ about that. what’s the count at now? is this the fifth or sixth time this month?”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. shit’s hard when you don’t have a car.” ellie sighed, punching in the numbers on her register. “i’ll do better. today was not my fault, though.”

“am i gonna have to be more strict with you? everyone else shows up on time, you know?”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.” ellie rolled her eyes, trying to focus on work and push the pain out of her mind. “everyone else has a car.”

ellie really did not like austin. his whole holier-than-thou attitude irked her to no end.

still, it beat being jobless, so she knew she shouldn’t complain.

“don’t let it happen again.”

“i won’t, i swear. i’m really sorry.”

“right, okay, i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, you alright out here?”

she bit her tongue, holding back a groan.

austin ‘going to the bathroom’ was his way of saying that he’s gonna get really fucking stoned and then sit around and do nothing all day. this was a daily occurrence, at this rate.

“yeah, yeah, i’m good.” ellie mumbled, shoving away the annoyance she felt when he walked past her.

austin was a dickhead, but he was never outright mean, not really. he just… he thought he was better than everyone. a classic ego-centric prick.

as much as she hated him, she did like having a job— and being able to afford a place to sleep at night.

“ohhh, ellie, i gave you more shifts, like you asked.” he said before he walked out, smiling at her. “take a look at the schedule when ya get the chance.”

he has to be kidding.

she’s been begging for more shifts since god knows how long ago, and he decides to give her more now? when she doesn’t even know how she’s gonna be able to make it to work?

amazing. just what she wanted!

“great.” ellie muttered, shooting him a glare even though he was already gone. “more hours that i don’t know how the hell i’m gonna get to.”

she shook her head, austin wasn’t worth getting this pissed about— especially when he did try to do what she asked.

the store was never busy in the morning, so she sat in austins chair, finally taking a second to herself. she went over her options on how this was going to go.

she could have asked dina for a ride, if dina wasn’t off on some work trip about three hours away for the next two weeks, taking her and jesses shared car with her.

terrible timing.

she’d take public transportation if it was reliable and also if she didn’t have a few bad experiences with it already.

that wasn’t really a good option.

uber was definitely not an option. she already was going to have to buy new glasses and eventually pay for her phone to get fixed, she wasn’t about to drop $50 a day on ride.

she was screwed.

nothing was working out for her right now— the universe was laughing at her, just like it always did.

she wanted to kick and scream, but that wouldn’t help anything, plus she wouldn’t be able to kick very well right now.

oh well… she’d be fine, she’d just have to push through it.

her phone buzzed in her pocket and she winced when she seen the cracked screen again, it was so wrecked that it barely let her type in her password.

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

was ellie stupid for agreeing to go out of her way when she was already struggling to walk? yes.

does she care? no.

jesse was a good guy, he’s done a shit ton of favors for her, so this was the least she could do.

she’d never been to the bakery, but she always smelled it when she’d pass by, and it always looked like it’d be good. she did deserve a little treat after the day she had, anyways.

thank you jesse and jesse’s money.

when ellies shift is over, she feels so much worse than she did earlier, and austin repeating that ellie looked like shit over and over again wasn’t helping.

ugh.

“you’re a wreck, williams—“

“—goodbye austin, byeee. i’m leaving, out the door, shifts over. see you tomorrow.” she slammed the door shut, letting out a frustrated sigh as she got on her board again. “god. fuck off.”

the bakery wasn’t far, it was literally right across the street, but it felt like it was miles away to ellie. she leaned on the wall for a second to catch her breath before she walked inside.

it was a cute shop, one of those places you see on pinterest or instagram, with the led light signs and fake plants, it was actually really nice. she doesn’t know why she never came here before.

“let me know if i can help… oh god. it’s you.”

she looks over at you and she starts to wish the fall had just killed her on impact.

“please… pretend like this morning didn’t happen. i don’t want to deal with arguing right now.” ellie sighs, not giving you time to reply to her before she goes into saying her order.

she looked at your name tag as she paid, she could barely see what it said, her eyes squinting slightly as she tried to make out your name.

you scribbled little smiley faces and stars around your name, which was cuter than ellie would like to admit.

“go sit, i’ll bring your stuff to you after i box them, ‘kay?”

“i can wait here.“

“sit.”

“fine.”

she sat at one of the booths, attempting to use her phone without losing a finger. she wasn’t even paying attention to the content, just scrolling mindlessly as the memories of this morning replayed in her mind over and over again.

she was hoping to never see you again.

maybe coming here was a mistake.

“here.” you say after a few moments, placing the boxes on the table. “enjoy.”

you were being kind, but she could read behind the curtness of your tone.

you thought she was dumb. she could always tell by the way you talked to her; that look of disdain on your face.

“thanks.” she said, and then the silence took over again. it was obvious that neither of them wanted to start another conversation after the way the last one ended.

ellie couldn’t help but notice how just scraped up your hands were. you had bandages on them, but the blood that seeped through was bright red, like it was demanding to be looked at.

demanding ellie to feel bad for what she did.

damn it, she really should’ve just paid attention this morning.

would’ve saved her a lot of trouble.

she got up, sucking her teeth and hissing as she shifted her weight. she leaned on the table for balance as a few curse words left her mouth.

“god, you’re the dumbest person i’ve ever met.” you declared, confirming her suspicions.

she scoffed, trying to shake the pain away from her ankle.

man, this sucked.

“shut the hell up.” ellie snapped. “you don’t have to be so snarky, you know? i’m already dealing with the consequences of my shitty morning, you can drop the whole, ‘i’m better than you’ bullshit. if you listened earlier, you’d have known i said that i have no other choice.”

“i did listen, idiot. i don’t mean to sound like i’m trying to be better than you, okay? i’m sorry. but you seriously don’t have anyone that can help you out? do you have friends?”

“i have friends, asshole. they’re just either busy or i don’t want to inconvenience them. what’s it matter to you anyways?”

you don’t really have an answer, you’re not sure why it matters. maybe it’s because ellie looked really miserable, or maybe it’s because it had been partially your fault that she’s hurt… or maybe both. but you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt about the situation she was in.

“i have a car.”

ellie paused, looking up at you. she wasn’t sure if she heard you correctly, or if this was just some weird, shitty joke.

“okay? congratulations?”

“don’t make me spell it out.” you reply, annoyance clear in your tone. “i’m saying, you’re obviously hurt, and it’s kinda my fault, so… if you needed a ride…”

“no.”

“don’t be stubborn. look, i get it, we’re not on the best terms right now, but i can’t just let you go like this without at least offering, y’know? plus, you seem like you could use the help.”

ellie’s mind was screaming at her to accept— it was logical. you offered a ride, she needs a ride, she should accept your offer.

“i could be a serial killer for all you know. you don’t even know my name.”

“yeah, okay. you? a serial killer? i’d just run away. not like you’d be able to chase after me.”

“hey, i can run pretty damn fast, you know?” ellie hissed. if she wanted, she could definitely chase you down… but she’d rather not do that at the moment. that was probably not a great idea. “hell, i could be an axe murderer.”

“what’s your name?”

“huh?”

“are you dumb?”

“…it’s ellie.”

“‘kay, ellie, now i know your name and if you’re observant— which i doubt but i’m gonna play devils advocate— you know mine. nice to meet you. now we know each other. i’m not gonna sit here and play 21 questions, do you want me to take you to your place or not?”

“what if you kill me anyways?” she asked, she was kidding, she just wanted to piss you off.

“i am not gonna fucking— you know what, you’re annoying. never mind.”

“wait. i’m sorry.”

fuck.

maybe this whole thing about you wasn’t so bad. you were just— abrasive.

she swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm. “i’ll take a ride.”

“what’s the magic word?”

“die.” ellie hissed. “you’re not funny.”

“almost! that’s four words. do you want a hint?”

ellie stared at you blankly for a few seconds before answering. “i am not saying please.”

“you just said it.” you grinned. “look, i get off at 6:30, that’s like… 20 minutes from now, if you don’t mind waiting. i’ll come get you when i’m off, sound good?”

“yeah. that sounds good.”

this is such a bad idea.

[deathdetermineslife]

ily selfshippers who find very specific meanings in random songs to relate to your f/o / selfship

[ag-shers]

i cannot escape the vision

[theandato]

and they say romance is dead

[purplecyborgnewt]

Twelve years later...

[good-griief]

losing game pt. 1

HEYYYY i'm actually back with a lil smutty angsty ellie fic bc i needed to write for this woman... anyway here's part one its only a lil angsty i just wanted an excuse to write rly gay smut so enjoy and p2 tmrw!!

as most of yall know any reader i write (as a poc writer) has no race, i just wanted to use a picture of taylor momsen bc i love tpr and that's definitely the vibe of the music in this fic

part two part three

read me click me

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Being in the rock scene was your dream. You started with small gigs, then small venues and festivals, and now you had a band to go along with your music. Your career was kicking off and it felt like heaven; every performance, every song, all the adrenaline made for some of the best nights of your life. 

When you picked your band, you hand-selected each member, and to say you picked your guitarist for any reason other than how pretty she was would be a lie. Yes, she was amazing, but you also couldn’t speak when she walked in for her interview. She just smiled, laughing at the way you stared at her before your manager started talking for you. He often did, she came to realize. 

She still accepted the moment you offered her the position, but she made it clear that she didn’t like your manager. She accepted for you; to be with you.

And she slowly became your favorite part of performing. You had this way of connecting with each other — of course, you were close with all of your band members, but she was different. You’d spend time together one-on-one, smoking a joint and talking about nothing until one of you had to force yourself to go. You’d get coffee together, have dinners, and even spend the night at each other’s apartments. Whenever someone asked about you two, you said you were best friends. Even when she was waiting for you at the end of the carpet, and you both laughed at your answer like it was some kind of inside joke. 

Even when you were onstage, on your knees, singing your most sensual song to her as she melted to your level, smirking as her hips thrust against the electric guitar. Sometimes, she even sang with you. You’d hold her face, or thread your fingers through her hair as you held eye contact or rested your forehead against hers with shut eyes, and if there was a break in the song you’d kiss her hard — a stage kiss that the crowd would erupt in cheers over. But they happened offstage, too… after a shared joint or during a party. Nothing more.

She’d let you place your fingers on the strings of her guitar to find the chords as you stood behind her, her head leaning back on your shoulder in a way that showed the muscles on her neck as she breathed in heavy, hot breaths. She let you wrap your hand around her throat, groaning in your ear as fans caught pictures of you dragging your tongue over her sweat-ridden jaw or biting her shoulder as she grinned. 

There was one night you let her take over the mic as you danced along. She played her guitar, singing and watching you until you sang with her. Your hands drifted down her thighs as you kneeled behind her, the crowd screaming as you lifted her shirt and came around to kiss the line of hair below her belly button. She smirked, stopping her playing and fisting your hair to pull your head back as you laughed. 

Nights when you’d take off your shirt, tossing it into the audience and pouring your water on yourself before she came to lick it up, tongue dragging over top of your breasts as you sang breathlessly. There were times she had to wrap her arm around your back to keep you standing when she did that, the action so intimate, so arousing, that it was hard to remember why you were on stage and not in your dressing room, alone with her. Some nights she’d take her shirt off and give it to you if she didn’t want anyone else to see you, smiling at you with her shirt on before you came over to kiss her cheek. 

There were moments with other band members, but none of them were like her. They didn’t make you feel the same — none of them were her. 

So, when the end of her contract came up and she talked to you about leaving to pursue other things, you were devastated. You didn’t think she’d leave, but after a talk with your manager, her decision was set. 

“I think you should,” you told her anyway. “Whatever makes you happy, Els, seriously. I’ll support whatever you do.” She smiled, taking your hand to kiss. On the inside of her fingers, and yours, you could see the matching tattoos you got months ago, threading your fingers together so they match up. 

You dedicated your last show with her to her. It was a surprise, and she cried when you said it in the beginning, but she just turned away to shake it off quickly. At least, she did until you started crying during a song you wrote for her — it was another surprise from you and the rest of the band, but the minute she saw you crying she couldn’t keep it together. She came over to hug you, kissing the top of your head as she let you hide your face in her chest. The crowd awed, but Ellie took the mic to say you’d be back. She set it down and lifted your head to make you look at her. “I love you, pretty girl,” she said, away from the microphone so no one heard her, but they could sound it out if they wanted to. “Please don’t cry.” She wiped beneath your eyes, ignoring the camera flashes and screams from the crowd. “I hate that I can’t do anything about it right now.”

You smiled. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 

She laughed at you. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” She nodded to the microphone. “Finish my song, I wanna hear the rest.”

“You’re an idiot,” you said, now standing at the mic and making the audience laugh. 

You were such an idiot. 

She never told you what other things she wanted to pursue, but you should’ve known. 

Of-fucking-course she was pursuing her own music. Of-fucking-course she was starting her own band. With yours. Of-fucking-course all of their contracts ending over the course of a few months would amount to this. Of-fucking-course each last show you dedicated to them meant nothing. 

You couldn’t even be mad. It was smart. But you were beyond hurt. 

And she still dedicated her first show to you. She texted you herself, asking you to come. 

When would you learn your lesson?

“I just want to thank you guys for coming,” she said to an audience of mostly your fans. “You might know me — us — from a backup band, but we got a little tired of being backup, didn’t we?” The band laughed. “So, uh, my name’s Ellie if you don’t know… probably don’t,” she laughed as if you’d never thanked or introduced your band before. “And I just want to dedicate this show to the previous artist I worked with. I wouldn’t be here without her, so she means… a lot,” she said it so fucking snarky, “to me, and… I have a few songs for her… if you all wanna guess which ones they are.”

And her first song was the biggest Fuck You song you’d ever heard. 

Still, she texted you after the show. 

She didn’t ask you to come to another show, and maybe that was because you announced a break from music, or because she was getting so much attention that she didn’t care. You saw her at award shows sometimes, and she would cheer when you won. Of course, you’d cheer for her too, but it never went beyond that. Almost like it was an unspoken rule that you weren’t on speaking terms. 

But the minute you came back to the scene, almost a year later, she texted you for the first time since her first show. 

You didn’t reply at first. You hadn’t kept up with her at all during your break, your manager telling you to stay away from any of her and her band's promotions and interviews. He had you block all of them and their numbers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to block Ellie’s. And you were glad you didn’t. Usually, you didn’t have your phone on you until late at night, your manager having your assistant handle your messages and social media, but you were about to fall asleep when she texted. As if she remembered your schedule. 

And it prompted you to look her up. Then her and you, and you could see countless videos. 

every time ellie has mentioned “her” compilation was what you decided to click on. It was made by an account that was clearly a big fan of hers, so you readied yourself for any hate that’d be thrown your way. 

The first clip was an interview, asking her why she split from your team. “You know, I really loved her and her team,” she said, “still really love her. It’s just hard being reminded, constantly, that you're a stepping stone and your time is running low, you know? We might’ve held her back if we stayed, and she was moving on to better things,” it sounded like she was quoting someone else. “—I mean, she always wanted us to shine, and I’m so grateful for her. I really miss being on stage with her, but I don’t miss anything else besides her and I think that says a lot.” 

Another was on her way into a hotel, a reporter asking if you congratulated her on an award. You could remember seeing her at the show before your manager called you over just as she was walking your way. She laughed, “haven’t talked to her in months.” 

Another of a sit-down interview with the whole band, your name being brought up and Ellie snapping at them, “You know I really wish people would stop asking me about her.” She got choked up as the others answered, nose reddening when the question finally circled back to her. “We’re not friends, we don’t talk, she doesn’t want anything to do with us, so...” She shrugged, pissed off. 

The next was another interview. It seemed she was just having to get used to being asked about you. “I’ve tried to reach out,” she said, “maybe she changed her number.” 

Another. “She was my best friend, I miss her a lot. I hope she’s doing okay.” 

And another, asking about her songs. “Yeah, I wrote a lot about her — No, I don’t regret it. I feel like it reflects a moment in time, you know? It was a really nice moment — I mean, I still have our matching tattoos,” she laughed, showing the tattoos on the insides of her fingers. 

Another, after a show. She was always emotional after shows, and it made it harder to watch as she wiped her eyes when the interviewer asked what your relationship really was. “I don’t fucking know,” was her answer before she walked away. 

Some of them were sweet, memories you shared that made you laugh. Others made you sick with guilt, like when she mentioned your lack of response or you blocking the band. Some just made you sad. And you felt like an idiot for doing this, but after reading the comments, some defending you for not running your socials or phone, or angry with you for the same reason, you played a compilation of the two of you together from the same account. 

Then you called Ellie. 

It rang once before sending you to voicemail and you just hung up. You kept your attention on the video to distract yourself from how much that stung. 

But she called right back. 

You stared at the phone for a moment, seeing the contact poster of the two of you at her last show with you lighting up your screen and feeling your words get caught in your throat as your eyes stung. You grabbed the phone, answering quickly. “Ellie?” It was silent, “Ellie, I just wanted to say, I had no idea… I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but I—“ You cleared your throat, trying not to sound like you were about to cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“I thought — I didn’t think you were going to — It feels so good to hear your voice,” was what she settled on after stammering through a few sentences. “You have no idea how much I’ve, just, wanted to talk to you…”

You bit down on your lip as you listened to her. She didn’t sound angry, but she clearly had so much to say to you. Her voice was filled with feeling as she went on, trying to get everything out as if she thought you’d hang up the phone at any minute. You just listened, shutting your eyes and bringing your hand over your face as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. You couldn’t bring yourself to understand why you were so emotional, maybe it was the fact that you misunderstood her so easily, or that your manager had ruined your relationship with her, or maybe it was even that you were just getting to hear her talk after so long, but she paused the moment she heard you trying to calm your breathing. 

“Please don’t cry.” She already knew. “I hate it when you cry and I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “Keep talking. What were you saying?” You looked at your computer, auto-playing something else of the two of you. It was clips of you on stage and during interviews, heads on each other's shoulders, hugging, kissing each other’s cheeks, singing together. You pursed your lips, tears coming quicker as you slammed your laptop closed. “Ellie,” you cut her off, biting at your lip as you looked at the empty spot on your bed she used to take some nights, “what are you doing right now?” 

“I’m on my way,” she said quietly, and you could hear her shuffling on the other line. She was probably getting ready to go to sleep, and wake up to no response just like every other time she messaged you. And you would have woken up with no idea she even texted you. “Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“If you’re already headed to sleep—“

“I’m coming over,” she said. “I’m already in the car, I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Okay…” Now you felt bad for making her leave her house, looking outside at the snowfall and sniffling as you tried to wipe your eyes. “I’ll see you soon.” You hung up the phone and groaned at yourself, shoving your head in your pillow. 

You opened your laptop, typing in the song names people speculated she wrote for you and queuing them all. Not one was the one you heard during her first show, and it made you feel even worse by the time the doorbell rang. You moved off of your bed, wiping your eyes and going to the door to buzz her up to your apartment. 

You waited by the door, balls of your feet kicking at the floor as you crossed your arms and waited for her to knock. It was the same rhythm she used to knock in, and where it usually made you smile, it made you cry more. God, you missed her, and you didn’t even realize how much until now. You took too long to open the door and you heard the lock click. She still had her set of keys, and that made you feel worse, too. She’d probably texted you about returning them, and you never got to see it. Nothing was making you feel better as she opened the door, and seeing her face just made it worse. 

“God,” she muttered, immediately bringing her arms around your waist. She tucked her head into your shoulder, shutting her eyes as your arms went around her shoulders. Her hands held you like you’d disappear the minute she let go, thumbs running soothingly back and forth over your shirt. “I missed you so much,” she said. “They all wanted me to get over it, but I knew there was no way — I knew we had something more than just — fuck, I know you better than they do. I know I do.” Her lips brushed your skin with every word. “I missed you so fucking much,” she repeated, hugging you tighter. 

Just her touch made your tears slow to a stop, relaxing into her hold and hugging her so tight, but she didn’t care. She was happy to be back in your arms. Your hand drifted to her hair, cradling her head to your shoulder. You could remember the nights you spent playing with her hair until you fell asleep and the thought made you run your fingers through it. She sighed, pulling her head back but refusing to let you go. 

There was a silence as you moved her hair out of her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. Slowly, your hand cupped her cold, flushed cheek. She leaned into your touch, eyes falling to your lips as your thumb stroked her cheek. 

“Ellie,” you muttered and she hummed, turning her head to kiss the inside of your palm. “I missed you, too,” was all you chose to say despite the wanting in the way you said her name. Her hand took yours as she kissed the inside of your wrist. “So much…” Her kisses trailed up your arm, with more of a meaning behind them than any of the kisses you’d given each other before. 

You moved your hand back to her face, turning her head toward you. She met your eyes, hers shining in the low light. They fell to your lips again and she leaned in, kissing your cheek. She kissed away every tear stain, still wet and warm. She moved closer and closer to your mouth, but never kissed you, kissing away the stains on your other cheek instead. 

Then you turned your head, catching her lips for a brief moment before she pulled back. There was a moment of hesitation, neither of you able to speak before she pressed her lips to yours. They were still cold from being out in the snow, but they warmed as you kissed her back, pressing your body impossibly closer to hers as she sighed into your mouth. She couldn’t tell you how long she had wanted this, but she knew it was long enough that her waiting for you was pathetic.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Everything that I Wanted (1)

Eddie Munson x F!Reader / Billy Hargrove x F!Reader 

Word Count: 4.2k 

Synopsis: Love triangle between your best friend Eddie and your first boyfriend, Billy Hargrove that spans over many years as you get everything you think you ever wanted. However, your life doesn’t play out how you expected it, starting from the first time you’re asked out on a date. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; sexual themes, language, depictions of a toxic relationship (manipulation & isolation from peers) 

A/N: Comments & Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much @munsonsmixtapes @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours for letting me talk to you about this fic ilysm

You were so excited, practically sprinting down the hallways towards the cafeteria. Your bag hits against your back at every step. You feel like you’re on top of the world. You can’t remember the last time you were this indescribably happy. You felt like you could practically float. 

Walking into the cafeteria, you take your usual seat with the rest of Hellfire Club, blending in with your matching shirts. You slide into your seat between your best friends- Gareth and Eddie. You take a moment to catch your breath as you shrug off your backpack. 

Gareth has been best friends with you since middle school, and you both became best friends with Eddie when you met him your freshman year, when he was a sophomore. You were inseparable from the entirety of Hellfire, but you and Eddie were very close. 

“What’s got you so worked up? Eddie asked, noticing how flustered you seemed to be when you all but fell into your seat. A smile spreads across his face, like it usually does, at your antics. Amusement is apparent in his eyes as he observes you- you never seem to notice how he looks at you like that. 

“I just got asked out,” you squeal, unable to contain your excitement. You couldn’t believe it had actually happened. It was something you had come to accept would never happen to you. But suddenly, it’s like the world has opened itself up to you. You were so happy, giddy and lovesick already getting swooped up in the romance of it all. 

Gareth congratulates you, happy for you as he pats your back. His eyes drift to Eddie, and the two exchange a knowing look. It was Hellfire’s best kept secret how Eddie felt about you. Everyone except you knew how Eddie was pretty much in love with you and has been, since the two of you met. It was obvious to all of your friends- except to you. 

You didn’t think you were the type any guy would notice. You were never the one that guys tended to see. It was something you longed for, you craved to be noticed- to be truly seen. You’d wanted to experience everything that you felt you were missing. You wanted the high school experience of your first date, your first kiss, a cute guy asking for your number. You never thought it was in the cards for you- so when it finally happened, you were overjoyed.

“Who’s the guy?” Jeff asked with an eyebrow raised. You’re taking your lunch out of your bag so you miss the way Jeff looks at Eddie and how Eddie’s shoulder slump dejectedly. 

“Billy Hargrove,” you exclaim, your cheeks turning warm remembering back on the events that took place a few moments ago. “The guy with the really cool Camaro,” you gush. You don’t miss how the table falls silent. “What is it?” You ask, your face falling. “I thought you all would be excited for me…”

Gareth clears his throat, the first one in the group willing to speak up. “It’s not that we aren’t happy that you got asked out…,” Gareth begins, making sure to choose his words carefully. “It’s just that… Well, Billy doesn’t have a reputation for being a nice guy…”

Your heart sits heavy in your chest at Gareth’s words. It’s a truth you don’t want to acknowledge. Billy was known to go after every girl, and you knew this. But it just felt so different to you- like maybe you’re the one to be the exception. You wanted to feel wanted so desperately that you can imagine, even if just for a little while, that you’re different. You know deep down that you’re not- but you don’t want to admit it. 

“You guys didn’t hear him just now,” you try to explain, coming to his defense. “He was so sweet when it was just us.” He was, he told you everything he knew you wanted to hear- because that was what he was good at. He knew how to get what he wanted, and he read you like the back of a book. Unfortunately, you were longing for something tangible and real- you refused to acknowledge the signs.

“Is it that hard to imagine that he might actually like me?” you ask, your voice failing you as it cracks. “Maybe I’m different- is that so impossible? Am I that undateable?”

The way you speak down about yourself causes Eddie’s heart to beak. He wishes you saw yourself the way he saw you. He holds back so many things he just doesn’t have the courage to say- especially as you seem so wrapped up in Billy Hargrove. 

“Sweetheart, it’s not that,” Eddie interjects, before you spiral too much. “You’re amazing- any guy can see that… It’s just Billy- he doesn’t.. He’s just- not the type of guy to want anything serious…” 

“He was just trying to butter you up,” Gareth says, more direct and maybe more harsh than he intends to be. “He’ll get what he wants from you and then dump you. He’s only being nice to try to get into your pants- he’s a player and he’s using you.”

Gareth's words sting, because you are so deep in denial and don’t want to accept the truth about Billy. You think that Billy is your only chance to actually date someone- no one else having shown interest in you before. 

“Maybe he does want something real, with me,” you say with a hopeful voice. “I already told him yes…” you admit softly, “we’re going to the drive-in on Saturday night. He sounded like he was really excited about it.”

“I’m sure he was,” Eddie says, an underlying bitterness evident in his tone. Grant elbows him, silently telling him to ‘cut it out.’Eddie concedes when he sees how his tone affected you. 

“I’d rather put myself out there at the risk of getting hurt than experiencing nothing at all,” you say, pointedly towards Eddie. His eyes widen at the tone, but he knows he deserves it. “Billy is the first guy to ask me out- ever! I don’t know if I’ll get the opportunity again- I’m not exactly the kind of girl guys ever seem to notice. It feels really good when someone does. Sue me.”

Eddie wants to scream, jump on top of the cafeteria table and put on his usual theatrics to tell you how he feels. He’s noticed you, he’s wanted you- he should be the one taking you out, not Billy. 

“He said I was the prettiest girl he’s ever seen,” you say, and feel embarrassed as the words roll off your tongue. Your face falls. You think that someone finally likes you. Why couldn’t your friends be happy for you? You get up, leaving your lunch behind as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “I got to go, I wanna get to class early so I can study before my quiz,” you lie, poorly making an excuse so you can get up from the table. 

Eddie watches you walk out, and he wishes he had the courage to chase after you. But he didn’t. 

“We can’t let her go out with that douchebag,” Gareth states, snapping Eddie out of his thoughts. The table all agrees with Gareth- that they need to talk you out of it. However, Eddie knows you best and your mind is already made up. Nothing that your friends could say would make you change your mind. He was right.

Saturday night rolls around before he knows it, and Eddie is just full of absolute dread. He paces in his room, music blaring. He doesn’t want you to go- he knows how this ends, and all he wants to do is protect you. But- this is what you want, and who is he to deny you that? You wanted the experience- the guy with the cool car, the guy who knew all the right things to say… Eddie couldn’t give you any of that. He felt hopeless. 

The sound of the phone startles him, snapping him out of his train of thought. 

“Eddie it’s me,” you say, propping the phone receiver up on your elbow so you could hold outfits up to you in the mirror. 

“H-hey,” he says, surprised to be hearing from you. “Aren’t you supposed to be out on your date?”

“Not yet. Eddie- I know you hate him. But, I need your opinion on what to wear,” you say, a little frantic and toss another option that you decide is hideous onto the mountain of clothes you’ve made on your bed. 

Eddie wipes his face with his hand- this is the last thing he should be doing. He shouldn’t be talking to you about a date with another guy (who’s an asshole by the way), or discussing with you what you should wear to impress him. It hurts too much. For a brief moment, he can’t help but imagine if it were him- would you be calling Gareth for advice? What would you pick out for him? Eddie can’t help it as his mind wanders. 

“What are the options?” He asks, knowing it’s better not to fight it. He takes a seat on his bed as he hears you moving hangers around. 

“The black dress I wore to Gareth’s birthday party last year- you know, the short-ish one and I’d probably wear my jean jacket with it,” You bite your lip trying to envision the look. Eddie knows exactly which dress you’re referring to, and it makes him want to evaporate. The idea of you wearing that dress for Billy makes his blood boil. 

“Might be a little fancy for a movie,” he suggests, being honest but also not disclosing the real reasons why he wouldn’t want you to wear that dress. “What else?”

“I might have another dress,” you muse, looking through your closet. “Uh, maybe not, actually- but, I have my Levi’s and maybe that lace shirt I have that looks like Madonna?”

“Maybe something a little simpler?” He suggests. “Pick something comfortable- you don’t wanna wear something tight for the whole movie.” 

“The other idea was my white sweater- the ones with the little heart buttons and maybe my jean skirt? I could wear my Chucks with it…”

“I think that’s the one you should go with,” Eddie says, honestly. He knows that outfit well- it’s one that you wear a lot. Secretly, it’s always been one of his favorites, but he’ll never admit it out loud. 

“Thanks, Eddie,” you reply and Eddie can hear you smile through the phone. He thinks his heart might beat completely out of his chest. “Can I call you when I get home after?” you ask, a little apprehensive. There’s an unspoken tension neither of you are willing to acknowledge. You think it’s just because Eddie  and the others don’t want you to go out with Billy- and this is true. But the truth is much more complicated than you are aware of as Eddie tries to hold back his feelings for you. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a contented sigh. You feel relief wash over you. 

“I’ll call you as soon as I get home!” you reply, giddy in anticipation. You say goodbye quickly and hang up the phone so you can get dressed. It was almost 7:00pm so Billy was going to be there any minute. 

At 6:55pm, you begin anxiously waiting by the front door, trying to calm your nerves by breathing deeply and slowly. At 7:02pm, you're pacing and peeking out from between the blinds everytime you think you see headlights. At 7:13, you’re telling yourself that maybe you got the time wrong and he actually said 7:30pm. At 7:17pm, you’re sitting on the steps in the foyer- your leg bouncing up and down to rid yourself of your anxious energy. At 7:24pm, dread swells up inside you, maybe he’s not coming. At 7:32, you hear the car horn and Billy’s car waits for you in your driveway. 

For a brief moment, you feel yourself pout. It wasn’t a big deal, but you thought that he’d come up the front steps and knock when he came to pick you up. And for a brief moment, you’re reminded that Eddie always does- even the one time your house hadn’t been shoveled yet and he walked up to the house through the snow and the legs of his jeans were soaked- but that's Eddie. You tell yourself that it's old fashioned to expect a guy to come to the door so you shake the thoughts away. You have the same feeling of disappointment bubbling up to the surface again, when he doesn’t walk around the car to get the door for you. You tell yourself to drop it, no one does that anymore- you need to lower your expectations. 

You wonder how someone who drives so fast could be so late- thinking to yourself as Billy sped out of your driveway and down your block before you managed to get your seatbelt on. You tell yourself you’re being too judgmental, and that you need to lighten up. You remind yourself about what you want to focus on. It’s Saturday night, and you’re on a date with one of the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen and he’s stealing glances at you with his really, really pretty blue eyes. 

Billy brought you to a slasher movie, thinking you’d hate it. He expected you to cuddle up to him, hide your face in his shoulder… perfect opportunities for him to get you closer. He doesn’t expect you to be really into it. He watches you watch the movie, and he’s a little taken aback. Who goes to the drive-in and actually watches the movie? You apparently. 

“You’re so far away, Princess,” Billy remarks. You’re still sitting on the opposite side of the bench seat as you’d been watching the movie. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness when he practically tells you that he wants you close. 

“Oh,” you realize, your voice soft. The sound of his voice pulling you away from the movie just long enough to slide closer to him. Billy wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he thought it was adorable- the way you slide over to him, your eyes not leaving the movie. He lifts up his right arm and rests it across the backs of the seats, effectively wrapping his arm around you when it slings down over your shoulder. 

Inside you’re freaking out a little bit- not necessarily because it was Billy who had his arm around you, but because this was a moment you’d imagined happening to you so many times. He was so handsome, and popular- so many things, and he wanted you. He wanted you closer so he could wrap his arm around you. The feeling of being desirable made butterflies swarm in your stomach. 

“You aren’t scared, Princess?” Billy asks, his lips right by your ear, and his left hand settling on your thigh right at the edge of your skirt. You couldn’t see his smirk, thinking he knows how it plays out. Like it has a million times before with him. He plans on having you in the backseat any moment now. 

“Not really,” you shrug, a giggle escaping your lips as his hair tickles your neck. “I love scary movies,” you volunteer, sharing something about yourself. Billy doesn’t do that- he won’t offer up something even if that simple. “What about you?” You ask, and it takes him back. 

“Uh, yeah,” Billy says, not sure how to react to you. This isn’t how this works. He wasn’t here for conversation. He wanted to kiss you, slide his hands up your sweater and find those cute little heart buttons on the floor of his car a few weeks from now. He wanted to keep letting his hand on your thigh slide up further, see what your panties look like. 

You can’t help but feel disappointed at his answer. You were expecting more than just a one word response. Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get to know each other? You hate how the silence is heavy in the car. You having a fleeting thought about Eddie- if he was here, you’d both be making fun of the terrible effects and chatting about everything and nothing the whole time. You redirect your focus back to the movie, thinking maybe Billy doesn’t want to miss anything you reason. 

“Did you know how they got it to look like that?” You lean over and ask Billy, and then you offer some information on how the special effects in the movie work. Billy looks over at you, wide eyed. Partially because, one- he’s surprised that you’re trying to talk to him, he’s not used to that and two- he’s actually surprised that he’s interested in what you have to say, and he’s enjoying listening to you talk. It stirs a feeling in him that he doesn’t recognize and it’s one he will refuse to let out. But, in the moment- just you and him in his car, he lets himself enjoy you and what you’re saying. 

A little while later, there is one scene that’s a particularly gore-filled jump scare and Billy can feel you become startled. He can’t help himself watching you watch the movie. He gently tugs you a little closer to his side like he’s wanted to all night. When he feels your body relax, he decides the moment is right. 

He slowly guides his left hand to your cheek and tilts your face up to his, resting your chin on his index finger. He can feel goosebumps on your arm where his other hand is wrapped around your shoulders. He revels in the feeling of being the one to have this effect on you. 

You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you realize that Billy is leaning in to kiss you. He was so close to you and it was dizzying. This was exactly how you imagined your first kiss to be. The anticipation was infuriating as he took his time leaning in, smirking at the way you react to him. It was all almost too much. 

Until it actually happens. It’s objectively a good kiss- a great kiss. It’s exactly how you picture your first kiss. It’s textbook. And Billy is a good kisser, and his lips are so soft and his cologne smells so good. But, you’re disappointed- the infamous spark you hoped to feel just isn’t there. You blame yourself, having built up this moment so much in your head. You feel so foolish, expecting it to be this earth shattering feeling- but it’s just a kiss. You tell yourself that it’s perfect. 

Kissing you makes Billy’s head spin. He tries his best to not focus on it, he hates the fact the taste of your vanilla chapstick makes his knees feel weak. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. He tries his best to keep his thoughts at bay but he can’t do anything to calm the way his heart pounds in his chest being pulled in close to you. He’s addicted, and his urge to make you his- and only his- pollutes his entire consciousness. He doesn’t want anyone else but him to know you like this. This is something he wants to lock away just for him.  

He’s never been jealous or possessive like this- not for a girl before. Anxiety bottles up inside him thinking about losing you, not being able to kiss you like this. He wants this all just for him. The idea of your lips on someone else’s makes him see red. No one else can have you is all he can think about when your breathy little moans hit his ears. Suddenly, he’s petrified that you’re gonna slip away and there’s so much more that he wants. He’s never felt so overwhelmed from a kiss before. 

A loud scene in the movie snaps you both back to reality. The sudden sound playing through the speaker makes you jump, startling back away from the heated kiss. Billy first instinct is to be annoyed, but he finds himself instead- amused. He strangely finds it endearing, and suddenly, the brief emotion evaporated as he looks at you. He’s puzzled, all of this is new- but he wants to bottle it up and throw away the key, keeping you just like this. 

“C’mere,” he mumbles with a lazy smile, tugging you back over to him. He wraps his arms around you, and scoops you into his lap. Your skirt bunches at your hips as you straddle his waist. His hands wrap around your back, holding you in close to him- chests flush with each other. “You’re cute, princess,” he praises, pressing his lips to your jaw and neck, greedy to illicit every little noise from you that he can. 

He kisses you again and your mind is so fuzzy. You didn’t think you’d end up like this. You envisioned a kiss- maybe a kiss when he dropped you off. Your fantasies were so chaste compared to where the night seems to be going- where Billy wants it to go. The sensation of being so enveloped by him is too much. You think you want this, but you are too inexperienced to be totally sure. It’s all moving so fast. Your hand falls back when you feel him bite into your neck, and you moan softly at the sensation too wrapped up in your thoughts to care that he’s leaving a hickey. 

“Gonna make you mine, Princess,” Billy moans close to your ear before connecting his lips to yours again. You can feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you and despite how good it feels- you panic just a little bit. It was all happening so fast for you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, softly- pulling away to look at him- read his face. Was it just talk or was he admitting he wanted something real? The idea of that makes your heart feel like it’s racing. “Like… you want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask, innocently. 

Billy didn’t mean that, he didn’t know what he meant. He just knows that he’s craving you and wants to have you all to himself. He’ll say whatever he thinks will make that happen. “Yeah… of course,” he murmurs, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

Billy Hargrove wanted you to be his girlfriend. You couldn’t believe it, you felt over the moon. Your grin spread across your face from ear to ear. This was it, tonight was everything you thought you wanted. Someone chose you, finally saw you and wanted you. Relief washed over you, the fear of being alone subsided because he was here, wanting to pull you in closer. Not knowing any better, you let him in. 

Jumping in with both feet, you let Billy take the lead- so wrapped up in the idea of him that you weren’t prepared for what that would actually mean to be his. You just wanted someone so badly, so sick with the heavy feeling of loneliness that you felt so committed to keeping this feeling in its place. You didn’t even know if you actually liked him- you didn’t know him that well. But, he liked you, and told you all the things you wanted to hear. You thought he was perfect- that the moment was perfect. You ignore Eddie’s voice in the back of your mind, reminding you of how terrible the idea was getting with Billy. 

He’s driving you home when he speaks again, and it catches you off guard. 

“I don’t want you hanging around with those guys,” Billy says absentmindedly. He was thinking about Monday at school- how he’d have to see you with your friends, Eddie hanging all over you. “They’re trouble- not good for you Princess.” 

“Who? Hellfire?” You ask with a laugh. “Trust me, they're harmless.” 

“They aren’t… you shouldn’t hang around guys like that,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh. “They just want you- you think they’re your friends but they aren’t.” His mind lingers on Eddie, knowing how Eddie must feel about you. He can’t have him swooping in and stealing you away. He won’t let that happen. 

“They’re all into weird shit… trust me, baby- they’re trouble and I don’t trust them around you. They’ll just want to break us up.” 

“But they’re my friends..,” you try to insist. He shakes his head and you see his knuckles wrap tighter around the steering wheel. You do your best to ignore it. He bites his lip, holding back his anger. 

“You can’t hang out with them anymore,” he declares and it’s an absolute. 

You know it’s not right, but you confuse Billy’s possessiveness as his own way of caring about you, wanting to keep you safe. You rationalize it, you understand how it looks to have so many guy friends. It’s normal for a boyfriend to not want his girlfriend around other guys, right? At the red light, he kisses you again and all apprehension melts away. For now, when he’s kissing you like this- wanting you like this, you’ll give into anything he asks. 

You’ll worry about this on Monday. 

PART TWO

TAGLIST: @fandom-princess-forevermore @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @spookysace24 @crispystarfishhottub @4billy @let-love-bleeds-red @supersecretsamm

[willyhoos]

simultaneously wanting to cry out "HOW COULD YOU JUST LEAVE ME HERE" and "NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN"

aka what happens if you combine prime!sonic (sweetest boy) and fof!tails (most traumatized boy)

bonus: HE DOESN'T KNOW

[hakusins]

♡ PC Update ♡

Eri the Orphan -> Eri the Veil

In most common mythology/folklore, 'the veil' is often used in reference to the existence of a 'border' between two realities, one of the world of man and the other of the world of those beyond our comprehension. It is not exclusively meant to define a 'border' between worlds, but often the veil refers to the act of also obscuring things from other's gazes.

Auriga, the Dark Elk, the Violet Void - is the taint that threatens to corrupt and destroy the world as we know it. The source of all the depravity of the world and the main culprit to why the Town is the way it is. All that is natural is twisted into a perverted comedy all for the amusement of one cruel entity, and as of late - it threatens to come back into the World from whatever void it has been banished to. The cult of the 'Children of Auriga' has made it their life's mission to gnaw at the locks that keeps Auriga from coming back into their World to cause havoc. But how could they do so, when the 'veil' to Auriga is nowhere to be found?

That is because the 'veil' or also known as the 'gateway' is not a physical border that one can cross, but rather exists as a person. The person of interest that seems to have captivated everyone of the Town. The tether - the bridge for Auriga to find their way back into this world, through the body of one young woman whose dealt the worst hand by the fates. Eri, the Veil of Auriga. The Seed of Ruin. Auriga's Future Vessel.

Edit: ALMOST FORGOT!! big thanks to my good friend Lee for picking out Eri's new title!!!!

[lostlunarheir]

it hurts to be something

its worse to be nothing with you.

(promise by laufey)

[joansiesbeloved]

jfk unveiling a portrait of his late brother joe jr.

the poetry behind this image is just.. wow.