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everrinsly · 3 days ago

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a/n; for your favorite boys (and they've got tattoooos bro) and girl dads hehe. I feel like this trope has been written many times but i love it so much! thank you for reading! and working on momager but slow, busy with work again (×_×)

color me yours. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

when your niece discovers another purpose for his tattoos.

♡ For all your favorites with tatted, girl-dad energy.

more of your favorite boys!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐ᯓ⚽⋆⭒˚.⋆🌌

Your niece looks up at you, wide-eyed and devastated—an expression only a five-year-old with an empty coloring book can muster. The last page lies flat on the coffee table, scribbled over in sparkly marker, the princess’s dress glowing a violent neon pink.

You sit cross-legged on the carpet, defeated. “I thought we had another one,” you murmur, rifling through old receipts, snack wrappers, and magazines in your tote. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl…”

There’s a soft shuffle behind you, then a low voice, warm and slightly amused.

“You really colored the whole book, baby?”

You look up just in time to see him crouch beside you, his large hands sliding under your niece’s arms as he lifts her effortlessly into his hold. She squeals with delight, kicking her feet in the air as he settles her on his hip.

She nods proudly, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. “Uh-huh. I finished the last page just now. The princess one!”

“No way. The entire thing?”

“Every single page!” she beams, cheeks flushed with excitement. “Even the robot one. That was boring.”

“Damn,” he says. “Felt like that was the best one, though.”

She giggles, then suddenly stills, her gaze dropping to his forearm where it wraps snug around her frame. Her brow furrows, eyes narrowing in that suspicious five-year-old way.

“...Wait.”

He lifts a brow. “What?”

Her tiny hand flattens against his bicep. “Wait.” Her voice is louder now, more urgent. She squints at the dark ink wrapping up his arm. “You have coloring book arms.”

“What?”

“Coloring book arms!” she exclaims again, delighted by her own epiphany. She pats the ink on his bicep with both hands now. “Look! It’s not even done! There’s spots you forgot to fill in!”

“Mm.” He feigns deep thought. “Guess you’re right.”

“Okay, okay, hold on, baby.” You scramble to your feet, crossing the room in three quick steps, hands raised in gentle negotiation mode. “How about we… do origami instead?” you offer, voice a touch too bright. “We can make paper frogs! Or butterflies! You love butterflies, don’t you?”

Your niece frowns at you. “Auntieeee,” she whines, hugging him tighter, “I wanna color Uncle.”

“Yeah, Auntie,” he echoes, voice completely flat and entirely unhelpful. “She wants to color me.”

You shoot him a look. “You’re not helping.”

He shrugs, shifting her higher on his hip. “Not trying to.”

Before you can protest again, your niece perks up, face shining because she’s cracked the ultimate loophole. “Oh! Auntie!” She wiggles excitedly in his arms, little hands grabbing at his shoulder. “Uncle has a tiny butterfly already! On his hips, remember? It’s on a rose! So I am still getting my butterflies!”

Oh.

She’s right.

“Shit, princess. You remember my tattoos more than me.”

୨୧ ♡ ୨୧

“M‘kay, baby. Let’s see how good of an artist you really are.”

He drops onto the rug with her, leaning back against the foot of the couch, legs stretched out long, body broad and inked under the soft lamplight. Your niece immediately clambers into his lap, her pouch of markers jingling as she unzips it.

“Where do I start?” she asks seriously, already uncapping pink.

He hums. “Dealer’s choice.”

She leans in close, examining the smoky lines across his bicep. Then, she starts coloring—little squeaks of effort leaving her as she presses the marker down hard, glitter ink bleeding into black swirls.

“Hmm,” she murmurs, chewing on her lip, “I wanna make these lines into a flower.”

“Yeah?” he says, a lazy smile tugging on his mouth as his half-lidded eyes flick toward her face. “Gonna make it pretty for me?”

“Mhmm.” She giggles and nods furiously, switching to a yellow marker for the “petals.”

You sit stiffly on the couch above them, trying so hard to look unaffected, but the picture in front of you makes your chest ache—this big, quiet man letting a five-year-old girl turn his body into her art.

He doesn’t flinch when she leans against him for balance, doesn’t complain when she presses a glitter pen too hard into his shoulder. Instead, his free hand lifts lazily, absent-mindedly catching a strand of her hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Keep still, Uncle,” she scolds, nudging his chest.

“I’m not moving,” he mutters, a ghost of a grin curving his lips.

“You’re breathing too much,” she declares.

He chuckles low in his throat, eyes flicking up to you with that dangerous, knowing glint. “Hear that, Auntie? Can’t even breathe around her.”

You shake your head, fighting a smile you don’t want him to see. “Good. Maybe she’ll finally keep you in line.”

His grin deepens as he brushes her baby bangs away from her face. “Funny. Thought that was your job.”

୨୧ ♡ ୨୧

“Auntieee,” your niece groans suddenly, tossing her marker down with dramatic flair. “I don’t know how to draw a lily. I wanna make this part a lily, and I don’t know how.”

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t have to be a lily, you can—”

“Nooo.” Her pout deepens. “It has to be a lily.” She grabs at your hand with her tiny fingers, tugging you down from the couch. “Help meee!”

“Guess you’re up,” he drawls, shifting so his arm stretches out across the rug, muscles flexing beneath half-finished ink. “C’mon, Auntie. Show her how it’s done.”

Your niece bounces on his lap, nodding furiously. “Yes, yes! Auntie, you draw the lily! Right here!” She points to a bare patch of smoky linework trailing over his abs.

You hesitate, marker clutched in your hand. That spot is criminally low, dangerously close to the waistband of his sweats.

But your niece is looking at you with those big pleading eyes. And he’s—well, he’s looking at you with a smug curve to his mouth; he knows you’re cornered.

So you exhale slowly and lean in.

As soft light spills over his skin, warm bronze painting over the ridges of his stomach, you let the tip of the marker touch the base of one smoky line, dragging it upward, using his tattoo as the stem of the lily. The glittery green bleeds into black ink, winding its way higher as your niece thrums happily.

“Yayyy! It’s a flower now!” she cheers, her tiny hands pawing excitedly at his abs, trying to help you “hold him still.” Her palms press into the hard ridges of muscle, pat-pat-patting at his stomach with every new petal you add.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling under your palm where you steady yourself against him, and his abs flex. The lines tighten beneath your niece’s hands—beneath your careful strokes. The tattoo shifts with the movement, smoke twisting, the lily stem you’re sketching curving naturally over muscle.

“You’re making it hard to draw,” you mutter, glaring at him.

“Am I?” His eyes are sharp on you, watching every flicker in your expression.

“Uncle! Don’t move!” Your niece smacks his stomach with both hands.

He grins, closing one eye at her. “I’ll try, princess. But Auntie’s tickling me.”

You snap your gaze up. “I am not—”

Before you can argue further, your niece gasps and announces, “Wait! I’m gonna add a butterfly! Right on the lily!”

She grabs a purple marker, tongue poking out as she carefully draws the tiniest, messiest butterfly beside the glittery petals you’ve just sketched. The wings are uneven, one bigger than the other, but she beams proudly.

He tips his head down, eyes flicking over her art. “Not bad,” he murmurs. “Think I’m ready to book you for my next sleeve.”

She giggles, “I don’t charge money.”

He smirks. “Lucky me.”

୨୧ ♡ ୨୧

The three of you fall into an easy rhythm after that—her humming softly, switching markers every few minutes; you sketching a few lines when she insists she needs your “grown-up help”; him letting himself be colored in without a single complaint.

By the time half an hour drifts past, the floor around you is scattered with uncapped markers, stray pen caps, and glitter smudges on the rug. Your niece’s excitement has dwindled to slow motions and tiny yawns. She wiggles one last butterfly onto the crook of his collarbone before her hand goes slack, marker slipping from her fingers.

With a little sigh, she curls into his chest.

He shifts instinctively, steadying her with one large palm against her back. She settles there, cheek pressed against his bare skin, her breaths evening out.

He glances at you over her head. “Out like a light.”

But just before she goes fully under, her voice mumbles against him, half-dreamy: “Auntie… finish the butterfly… the one on Uncle’s rose… wanna see it pretty… tomorrow.”

You snort as he huffs a quiet laugh, eyes locking on yours. “Orders straight from the boss.”

You glance down at the spot she means—the delicate rose tattoo inked low on his hip, the faint outline of a butterfly perched on its petals. It’s unfinished, uncolored, the ink dark but empty.

The place is… intimate. Too intimate.

Still, her hand pats blindly at his chest, making sure you heard her, before going completely slack. She’s asleep now, trusting you to follow through.

He leans his head back against the couch, watching you from under hooded lids, lips curving slowly. “Well?” His voice is a low rumble. “Gonna tell her no?”

Your fingers tighten around the marker.

“No,” you whisper, moving closer beside him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, so soft you almost miss it.

And with your niece fast asleep on his chest, you reach down and press the tip of the marker to the butterfly on his hip.

The spot is warm under your hand, his skin smooth and taut, the faint rise and fall of his breath brushing against your knuckles as you lean in close. You trace the delicate lines slowly, filling the wings with soft strokes. A little purple, a little blue, dots of yellow where the veins of the wings curve. You make it extra pretty; your niece asked for a butterfly, but you’re making sure it’s one worth remembering.

You’re so focused you barely notice how quiet he’s gone, how his head has tilted, cheek resting lazily against the crown of your niece’s hair, but his gaze is pinned entirely on you.

He loves the way you’re concentrating, lips pressed together in thought, brows drawn ever so slightly as if you’re tattooing him for real and not just coloring him in with glitter pens, loves that you’re close enough he can feel the faint brush of your hair against his side, that you’re steadying yourself with one palm flat on the floor beside his thigh.

“Serious face,” he mutters.

You glance up quickly, cheeks heating. “I want it to look nice.”

“Already does.” His gaze drifts down, catching the way your hand lingers on his hip a second too long, fingers brushing the waistband of his sweats.

୨୧ ♡ ୨୧

“C’mere, baby.”

He shifts just enough to free his other leg, the one not occupied by your niece curled up and dreaming against his chest. With his free hand, he tugs gently at your wrist until you move, climbing onto his thigh carefully. His arm circles your waist, pulling you in until there’s no room for hesitation. You can feel the strength in him, but he’s holding you soft because you’re as precious as the little girl breathing against his collarbone.

His face is close, hair falling over hooded eyes that don’t leave yours. He dips his head, brushing his lips over yours in the sweetest kiss. His mouth moves against yours once, then again, lingering and stealing every thought from your head, leaving only the warmth of him behind.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and his voice is a secret meant for you alone. “You two can color me in forever.”

You laugh softly, though it cracks around the edges, your chest full to bursting. And when you kiss him back this time, it feels like a promise.

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mint-mania · 2 days ago

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pv and fount's reaction to reader slithering up to them like some heat seeking leech lol

Like maybe they're sitting upright on the bed and in comes reader with eyes open a crack, getting into the bed, burying their head in his stomach and wrapping their arms around his waist

reader who is always cold (ft. Pure vanilla cookie and fount of knowledge)

A/N: I love the cold, which is good because I'm always cold lol. it's 97°F and I'm wrapped in two blankets as I write this 😅

୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・୨୧

Pure vanilla ♡

He runs warm, even in winter he still gets too hot under a blanket

So he has no problem with you using him as a heater

He likes being held and getting to warm you up

Really a win, win

As for sneaking up on him

He isn’t easy to startle

He’s gotten used to you wrapping your arms around him from behind, you do it so often he can immediately tell it’s you when you do it

He’ll turn around to hug you, letting you take in all his warmth

Also makes sure you have tons of comfy clothes, shipped from the dark cacao kingdom

And so many fluffy blankets, so many

Fount of knowledge ♡

He’s cold too

But he won’t stop you from cuddling up with him, he’s not crazy (yet)

He knows quite a few heating spells, so he can warm the both of you up

He also loves wearing tons of layers to keep warm, so if you come to him cold he might give you one of his capes

If he’s feeling mean he might touch your back with his freezing hands (bullying is his love language)

But he also will give you a massage with his hands warmed by magic

You can try sneaking up on him but he will get revenge

#minty’s mailbox 📨#minty writes ୨୧ #crk #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run x reader #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla crk #pure vanilla cookie x reader #fount of knowledge crk #fount of knowledge #shadow milk cookie crk #shadow milk x reader #shadow milk crk

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hoonieyun · 2 days ago

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୨୧ the girl is mine ⸝⸝﹗

꒱﹒park sunghoon x reader x lee heeseung﹒୨୧

chapter 4: you dont even have a job warnings: friendly banter, profanity, jake small crash out, jungwon saying shit before he speaks, mention of a knife, like just a bunch of them arguing with each other lol, 18+ ignore typos if any ꒰꒰﹒the girl is mine masterlist ⸝⸝

"sorry moment of weakness"

back ♡ next

hoonieyun notes: thank u to my angels @s1rawb3rry and @xylatox for their input and helping me choose yn's digicam photo hehehe luv u guis

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @firstclassjaylee @kristynaaah @17ericas @heeseung64 @leipforggy @s1rawb3rry @ddeonuswife @orxngebloods @xylatox @saccharinezennie @izzyy-stuff @yooonjnng @lookingforsnacks

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

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aerieangels · 3 days ago

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give me your heart, and ill give you mine.

ring ring ! @greenbubblefactory

you have a twisted wonderland matchup from aerie. would you like to read?

[ yes ! ]

[ no thanks ! ]

your matchup is ... jamil viper!

your quiet, polite, observant demeanor is what catches jamil's attention when you first meet — theres not many people here who carry themselves with the sort of elegance you do, and jamil is very intrigued by you. of course, he doesnt say anything, not yet, but the snake has eyes on you before you even know it (though, im sure you do since you're observing)

jamil is used to the loud ; living with kalim and going to school at nrc, its chaotic. however, you on the other hand, are the opposite ; polite and reserved; he recognizes your avoidance to share how you feel (afterall, he knows it very well) at first, he thinks you've got some bad intention ; someone so polite and quiet, always observing, possibly an assassin? he assumes you want something, so he will act coldly at first towards you. however, as you grow closer, when he realizes you have no ill intentions, he will slowly open up — not fully, but he won't be cold towards you anymore. when you slowly grow closer to him, becoming more playful, he will, too.

jamil is great when it comes to overthinking — hes not great with comforting, no, but hes logical and able to help you provide facts versus fears whenever you spiral; hes a good person to lean onto when youre troubled, even if you have a hard time being vulnerable. he will also take your fear of being excluded/overlooked quite seriously, as he is often also overlooked himself.

his love language is acts of service, but also quality time; he would enjoy just simply basking in your presence during an especially hard day. he also secretly enjoys physical touch, like massaging your hands through his hair.. just not in public unless hes jealous, as he prefers the intimacy of physical affection for just you two; though he wont hesitate if your hand reaches for his while walking.

jamil is used to cooking — like a LOT. so when you mentioned you could cook instead, he wasn't too on-board with the idea. he has high standards, afterall. howver, he was pleasantly surprised by your skills. if you cook him a meal, especially after a long tiring day, be prepared for him to rush you off somewhere private and pepper your with affection. he appreciates it, really, since he cooks every day, the break is nice.

jamil is also a fan of more clean, organized spaces — though he may occasionally lecture you (out of love) whenever he spots a mess, he won't clean it up without your permission first. jamils room is generally very clean and tidy, and he isn't a fan of dirt since it can attract bugs, and we know how that goes... unfortunately, in this relationship, it seems like you'll both be screaming at the bugs!

even though he appreciates you cooking, he still enjoys doing it himself when he isn't forced. he'll prepare lunches for you everyday, testing out different recipes occasionally since he's aware you like trying new things. hes a little disappointed that you dislike spice, as he practically lives on it, but keeps it in mind to make a non-spicy batch of food for you. (the last time he tried adding just a tiny bit, it did not end well... hes learned now.) he will be thrilled if you ask him to help build your spice tolerance, though.

if you've lost or misplaced something? jamil is your man. he's already found it for you before you've even realized its gone. lost keys? they're in his hands as he drops them off in your purse before you leave. hes used to jamil literally losing EVERYTHING, so theres nothing that gets past him. if you're distracted, he will gently push you back onto task aswell; hes a great study buddy.

jamil enjoys your minimalistic, elegant and soft aesthetic. he finds it rather flattering and a good reflection of your personality; elegant, but soft. whenever you walk with him, he has lots of pride for having such a pretty partner. he will always help you get ready, if its combing your hair, helping you with makeup, etc. jamils hard to get close to at first, but once you get him hooked, hes WHIPPED.

seems like theres an attachment at the bottom! displaying message now :

matchup results : jamil viper

runner ups : riddle rosehearts, silver vanrouge.

songs that describe your relationship ; do you think you could love me — yung kai, fragile — laufey

R.R - riddle would respect how polite and respectful you are, causing him to later develop feelings; he would always be extremely respectful during a relationship, but sometimes shy when it comes to physical touch.

S.V - silver would appreciate how kind you are and enjoy your calm silence a lot, especially whenever he falls asleep. though he doesn't know much about human relationships, he asks lilia (TERRIBLE MOVE OH MY GODDFD DO NOT ASK YOUR ANCIENT ASS DAD ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE PLEASE SILVER 😭😭😭) on how to court you, which ends up... interestingly, to say the least! (you now have a collection of weird rocks in your room)

jamil viper isnt your preferred choice? no worries I'll throw him out the window and i can write for someone else instead!!!!!! 🤍/hj, if you prefer the runner ups more, i can make a more detailed analysis about it aswell!! thank you so much for doing this matchup exchange with me, zephyr !! you seem super sweet and i look forward to interacting with you in the feature ! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

with love,

aerie

#𓎟𓎟 aeries library ◞ ୨୧ #𓎟𓎟 aeries drabbles ♡#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst x you #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #twisted wonderland matchup #twst matchup

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angelicjoy8 · 3 days ago

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simple bios :

࿐ name ㅤ۪ 🧸𝅄 name . prns 𓂅 mbti ◌ ° lyric ◠ age ୨୧ mtbi carrd ࿁ 🎀⏜ ࣪‎ ‎‎ ㅤ੭୧ㅤ۫ㅤㅤ

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ( 🍓 ) name ♡ —﹙🍵﹚⑅ name .ᐟ ୨୧ ㅤprns ، age : ౨ৎ prns • mbti :: age .ᐟ

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lachatalovematcha · 17 hours ago

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୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

🧇🎀🌈ディズニープリンセスすてきにレッスン！🧇🎀🌈

🧇🎀🌈˚　✿. ひらがな･カタカナ˚　✿.🧇🎀🌈

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

#⭐️🎀🌈 🎀 ⊹︵︵︵ ⊹ ୨୧ ⊹ ︵︵︵ ⊹ 🎀⭐️🎀🌈#☘️🎒 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚ ๑‧˚₊˚ ๑‧˚₊꒷︶🎀🌈︶꒷꒦⊹๑‧˚₊🥬🎀🌈.・✫・ !!･:*๑◕‿‿◕๑･:*ｌａｌａｃｈａｎ🌈⭐🌸 ⋅୧ ‧₊˚ ꒷︶🎀🌈︶꒷#⭐˖ ･ ·̩ ｡ ☆ ﾟ＊ 🌸 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ㅤ ララ月太陽ㅤㅤ꒰ 🍮 ꒱ ⠀⠀⠀⠀イ. ₊ ˚ ׅ ㅤ🥐 ｡˚ ◟⭐️🎀🌈⭐˖ ･ ·̩ ｡ ☆ ﾟ＊(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⭐️🚎🌈#🥞⭐️🎀·̩ ｡ ☆ ﾟ＊ ¸* .Ｃｈｅｋｉ☆Ｌｏｖｅ·̩ ｡ ☆ ﾟ＊ ¸* .🥞⭐️🎀#かわいい #kawaii #gif #animecore #aesthetic #otakucore #webcore #weebcore #kawaiicore #my gifs #jojifuku #otaku☆chan #PICO #disney #Disney Princesses: Suteki ni Lesson! Hiragana-Katakana #ディズニープリンセスすてきにレッスン！ひらがな･カタカナ #Sega #game #video game #retro game #nostalgiacore #nostalgia #Sega Pico #Sega Toys #2000s

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itschoahyuna · 16 hours ago

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(≧▽≦) ⭐ ｡*ﾟ 🌈(≧▽≦) ⭐ ｡*ﾟ 🌈(≧▽≦) ⭐ ｡*ﾟ🌈

🎀🌈🍀(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ🎀🌈🍀スマイルプリキュア！🌻☘️🎨

(≧▽≦) ⭐ ｡*ﾟ 🌈(≧▽≦) ⭐ ｡*ﾟ 🌈(≧▽≦) ⭐ ｡*ﾟ🌈

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heartz4verlaineszz · 1 day ago

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HIGH-SCHOOL AU W THE CREEPY GANG

( ၴႅၴ+HEADCANONS WITH VERLAINESZ!! (plus x reader)

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ JEFF, TOBY, BEN, JANE, (and nina mentioned)

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

( ၴႅᯓ ⁺₊ ♱ .ᐟ— CRACK + COMEDY + HCS + HIGH-SCHOOL AU!

A/N: im at class rn with like idk 2 fanfics in the Making hehehe might write for killer chat :3!! Ik I've been offline for like 7 months in the writing community but I've been revived!!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚WARNINGS— swearing + VAPE USAGE + School fights lmfao + very very funny author breaking the 4th wall sometimes

JEFF

- BIG DAWGG

- hes the regina George of the school. Probably. But more underground and gets into trouble 24/7

- his bag is either HEAVY AS HELL or like so freaking light you wonder if he even has a single piece of paper in his bag

- he infact does have paper. Just one singular one.

- when his bagpack is light it only contains his vapes, one singular half used mechanical pencils (the class doesn't even use mechanical pencils they use Ballpens), and one singular wrinkled piece of paper that somehow gets him through the whole day💔

- BUT WHEN IT IS HEAVY.. It's FILLED with his vapes and random weapons like freaking butterfly knives, bats, more knives, daggers..yknow?? Fancy stuff. (he stole them)

- wait till you hear this guy finding out about the school implementing a bagcheck policy

- ABSOLUTELY LIVID ABOUT IT.

"ITS ON SIGHT ITS ON SIGHT IF I SEE YOUR ASS ITS DONE"

- tries to talk all non chalant and rough if you first meet him but the second you get close to him he's the most loudest fucker in the area ever😟

- definitely steals vapes from other kids

- prolly a grape flavor connoisseur. Something fruity or strong smh idk i have never vaped before but something strong and harsh to the taste lololol

- hides his vape in some black musty pouch

-hes so hard to crack omg don't even think of trying to confess to him

-acts like he knows things about romance js because he has nina chasing after him

- "dude this romance thing is easy typ shift"

- whenever someone makes him or tells him to do something, he'd purposely do it in such a shit way that it makes the person who ordered him to do something to do it themselves

BEN

- definitely the Gretchen in the gang

- yells "YO MAMI WSG" in the hallways whenever he sees a girl walk pass him

- unfunny. Genuinely. But sometimes his jokes are so unfunny that it becomes funny 😂✌️

- he could be saying the most craziest unfunniest joke you ever heard and the SECOND you let out a giggle.. Its game over for u bud. Its worse if ur a girl.

- the second he hears that giggle or laugh, he's repeating that all year long. 😟😟😟😟

-like he'd purposely say that joke OUT LOUD to toby and Jeff whenever he sees the person who laughed at it.

- doesn't let the joke go. Never. Unless he forgets it. When he does forget about it, you're safe. (for now)

- like imagine a random tuesday he lets out an actual funny joke and the SECOND he hears a giggle Falling from your lips, best believe in the next school year he's repeating that infront of you like imagine him with Toby and Jeff and WHEN HE SEES YOU near his vicinity, he'll repeat the joke in a loud voice to jeff and toby while making sure you heard it😟✌️

- his bagpack is in the middle. Not too light not too heavy.

- brings a pen and a single notebook that has every subject crammed in it

- his vape flavor is something soda. Definitely monster soda flavored or coca cola.

- prolly steals and buys vapes. Unlike Jeff who only steals :/

- hes such a loser omfg hes definitely desperate for a boyfriend or girlfriend.

- if ur a guy hes definitely in denial that he likes u. "yo dude that's gayyyy😅😅" "no homo tho" he'd say as he clings to you

- if ur a girl its a whole different story 😅😅 he's so corny its insane. "wsg mami" and winks at you

- super clingy. Genuinely wants to make out in the middle of hallways 😟😟😟😟😟

- if ur Nonbinary, he's like so loud with the they them jokes im sorry. Definitely calls u "thing" instead of king/queen

- calls you monarch or any nickname out there that has a they/them pun to it. Hes so chronically online you have to be nice to him ok??? :((

- the only reason why hes not in those schooling programs (aka the ones to thw kids who failed) is because he's actually pretty smart at techy stuff. Prolly good at computer science, math and science.

- if he wasn't in jeffs circle of friends, he would've been in the computer club.

- whenever theres a competition where they need to make robots or whatevr, the school always pulls him out 😂✌️

- English hater. Definitely says shit like "but we speak that anyway we dont need it as a subject 🙄" like ok bud.

- his bagpack probably has some gameboys and Nintendos in there. Which is the only thing giving it weight.

- hides his vape in those padded laptop pockets in bagpacks

- doesn't care much about bagchecks. Will find a way to sneak his vapes and his nintendo switch 😈😈😈

TOBY

- karen of the group. Prolly. Heh.

-LMFAO do u guys know that one meme where the guy asks the security guard, "yo can i skate here?" and when the guard says no, he'd pretend to skate and just leave the building to do it.

Ok i found it✌️😜😜😜

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DKbnjEPTPbp/?igsh=eXc2YW03enVmemR1

- unlike Jeff, he doesn't do it on purpose 💔💔💔 he's trying his best to do what hes told hw swears ✌️

- like when he has to submit an assignment, it could be something like having to draw this or that.. Likw imagine him having to draw something but the second he messes up, he's using the whole roll of his seatmates or friends Correction tape to start over just for him to use another piece of paper 💔

- the fucker that will stand infront of the electric fan when it's scorching hot. Ok look i know alot of classrooms are air conditioned but here in my country ITS NOT. we have electric fans.

- imagine you sitting in class after doing such tedious work in the hot scorching sun, and you close your eyes, expecting the electric fans air to hit your face to just be met with tobys back. Like he's deadass following the movements of the fan.

- the type of kid to purposely get himself hurt to get a reaction out of people

- also an asshole at the most worst times.

- Ok your day would be already Going so bad like its so hot in the classroom, so much assignments are given and your pen just ran out of ink... So you walk over to him to ask for a pen (he clearly has pens. He has them all laid out on the table) and like when you ask, he'd look around his table and reply with the most sassiest answer with a sassy snarky tone like

*looks around his table that clearly has ball point pens everywhere* "oh y-yeah no i don't have any." he'd say with deadpanned eyes but a snarky sarcastic grin LIEJDJSBFJS

- the type of kid you'd expect to be okay and normal because of his loner ass looks but when you actually get close to him he's super loud.

- definitely accidentally says things. Bcs of his tics. Duh. But he does it at the worst times..

- like a fight would break out (we'll get to those headcanons later) and he's yelling "COCKSUCKER" by accident 😬😬😬

- like the kid jeff jumped is already sobbing and Jeff is already making a run for it and he'd accidentally say, "PUSSY EATER"

- even tho he's part of jeffs circle of friends, he actually has decent grades 😊✌️✌️😜

- vape flavor is something sweet idk like probably strawberry acai or just something sweet and milky in general idk i dont vape ✌️😅

- wastes school supplies like crazy

- make him stick up a few papers on the walls and you're already out of tape.

- instead of taping it with just one piece like a normal person, he'd tape all sides to the wall so that "just in case it doesn't fly away" and it's not even taped to each corners, everything is taped.

- when he has to tape something outside, he'd cover the paper in tape so that it's "waterproof" even though its already laminated 💔💔💔

JEFF + BEN + TOBY

- does "gang meetings" in the disabled bathroom stall of the boys bathroom

- literally people avoid that stall like it's the PLAGUE.

- deadass smells like mixtures of random vape flavors

- has corny shit written on the walls

- red sharpie EVERYWHERE. "JEFF WAS HERE.." you'd be seeing shit like that and poorly drawn blood splatters from red sharpie

- first thing you'd see when you enter the stall isn't even the toilet. You'd see red sharpie writing on the walls. Big bold ones.

- now for the fight 😈😈😈

- poor toby 💔💔 he has to carry their shit (their bagpacks) whenever jeff gets into fights

- first of all jeff tries so hard to be nonchalant in class but the second you're in "his gangs turf" he'd be so loud.

- LOUDEST KID EVER.

- music class could be so loud like violins and piano everywhere but you can still hear his ass yelling at the hallways

"ITS ON SIGHT KID, FUCKING FIGHT ME YOU PUSSY"

- you'd KNOW that there's a fight because he's so goddamm loud about it lmfao

- you WILL hear his yells from the other side of the school

- and then there's ben..

- hes there for physical support.

- the second jeff is getting into fights, he's sizing up the guy and is like "watch your mouth kid."

- he thinks he's so tuff like boii-😂🫱

- throws his bagpack to toby when he joins in

- he thinks he's doing damage to the kid him and jeff r fighting but in reality—jeff is doing all the work💔💔

- jeff let's ben think that he's doinf something

- THE SECOND WAY that you can find out that a fight is breaking out is when toby posts it on his story.

- first of all, i feel like toby wouldn't post shit...like the only reason he has a bunch of followers because he doesn't know his stories are on public

- like like while he has 2 backpacks (jeff being VERY VERY heavy because it's filled with weapons and its half open and a barbed bat already fell) over his shoulders, he has his phone out recording the fight

- like while jeff is jumping the dude (ben in the corner near Jeff, just kicking the guy— thinking he's doing something) toby is like

"yooo that's crazy"

Like while hes recording theres like silence in between his lines like hes deadass just saying random lines to hype Jeff and ben up

And what's funny? The MINUTE there's an actual fire and good part like when the guy jeff and ben are jumping fight back and hits jeff good, toby would double tap on his screen to make the camera clearer just for the camera to flip to his face and record his reaction instead 😂✌️✌️

Likw he's like "YOOO that's crazy brooooo" and it records his reaction instead of the fight

"yooo did you guys see that? That was crazyy"

Like no toby we didn't see the guy land a hit on jeffs balls💔 we only saw your eyes widen and mouth drop😅😅😅😅✌️✌️✌️

And while jeff is like grabbing the guy by the hoodie or collar, ben is there grabbing one side of it, thinking hes doing something 😅😅😅

- the 3 obviously get in trouble often since the principal and student council uses Tobys account to find where the fight is and whos the victim💔😟

- like toby would have stories with blurred pictures of the fight and caption it as

"Yo today's fight was insaneeee😂😂😂" and its like a blurred photo of ben slipping and Jeff holding some kid by the collar with a random get scared or gangsta song in the bg

- Jane follows his account to track where they are because for some reason toby is loud on social media 💔💔😟😟

- BEST BELIEVE YOU'RE ALWAYS HEARING "JEFFERY ALAN WOODS COME TO THE OFFICE IMMEDIATELY."

- also they're the gang you're so tired with💔💔

- you're like already 10 minutes late in class and you're trying to get to your classroom but their asses are in the middle of the hallway, taking all the space by huddling up and whispering shit 💔💔💔

- don't even try to squeeze in the sides because jeff will jump you by saying shit like

"DUDE WATCH IT!"

And ben will back him up by looking up at you and say something like "can't you see us talking?"

- toby and jeff would have the most shit eating, soul disintegrating, heart pounding glare ever like its actually kinda scary 😅😅 and there's ben staring at you with a lazy eye that's already doing social distancing like its still the pandemic...

JANE (its short forgive me😅)

- jane is so done with their asses

- i feel like she'd be a student council member idk..

- actually has good grades

- has a hate club for jeff

- is always the one bringing jeff to detention

- the girl you'd expect that WHEN SHE WALKS BY THE HALLWAY.. IT SMELLS HELLA GOOD?? LIKE ITS SOME DARK SCENT THATS LIKE MM🤤🤤🤤

- definitely disappointed that ben and toby are friends with jeff bcs she knows ben and toby both have potential in things

- the girl who has everything like you could ask her for like deodorant, she has it. Toothpicks? SOMEHOW KNOWS WHERE TO GET SOME OR HAS THEM.. she has everything omg she's actually so helpful

- gets more girls than ben and it makes him jellyyyyy

41 notes · View notes

satellitespinner · 41 minutes ago

Text

GUILTY CONSCIENCE (chapter 5)

THOU SHALL NOT LIE ♡

𓂃⋆.˚ businesswoman!ellie x exoticdancer!reader.ᐟ

𓂃⋆.˚ wordcount 10.5k

𓂃⋆.˚ content warnings ANGST. Ghosting, depression, lack of self care, neglect, mentions of medication and substance abuse, no ellie at all, only readers pov, bittersweet Callie scene, Abby is an ANGEL, NEW YEARS!! Loads of time skips and dreams and flashbacks, non sexual intimacy, midnight walks?. Multiple ocs for like 0.3 seconds, depression, sad,sad,sad,sad,sad, i wrote this whole thing while listening to Radiohead and Sufjan Stevens, so buckle up. Reader has ups and downs, but is really really sad, my baby.. happiness if you squint and look away and close the tab.. NOT PROOFREAD. comments critiques, and reblogs are widely appreciated, talk to me and i’ll talk back! ⋆. ୨୧˚⋆

Hello my beautiful angels, i apologize for how late this chapter is, but following the warnings i ask that you read at your own risk. It isnt too graphic on any of these topics, but it’s angsty nonetheless. If you’re struggling with thoughts of depression or self harm, reach out. Im here for every single one of you, whether you feel it or not. You’re not alone in your struggles.

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Chasing ghosts is impossible. They never come when you're searching for them. They appear when your guard is down — in the quiet of your slumber, or the moments when you're not looking. They appear in the pause between heartbeats, or the silence between breaths. They come haunting, mocking you with what was, or what could’ve been. They leave their mark without warning, then vanish like mist in morning light, like they were never there at all. Silent. Weightless. But somehow, still heavy on the chest.

Gone without a trace.

They don't die, however. Not really. They simply move on, slipping through the cracks of time like a draft beneath a closed door. There are other halls that echo too loudly with silence, other rooms where memories hang heavier than dust — places where the past lingers, waiting for a familiar knock, a whisper in the walls. They don't vanish. They relocate.

You felt crazy. Your phone went dry, doorstep vacant of the usual lingerer. You hadn't heard her voice, or felt her presence since she left you in that restaurant three weeks ago.

The only remnants of her being the thousands of dollars worth of things, and the desperation in her voice the last time she told you she loved you. No calls, no spontaneous meetings in the dead of night, she was just.. gone.

A near memory of what you came so close to, but cannot have. You had a mere taste of the lavish and loud love that you so desperately sought for your entire life before it was ripped away from you. Ripped and torn from struggling hands, broken in the process.

NEW YEARS EVE

“Happy new yee - rahs, wow. Great job, Callie, really.” A new friend points out, Maeve. A tall scrawny girl with a brain melting Irish accent, the way she berates your roommate probably would’ve been funnier if you weren’t so narrow mindedly focused on your newfound situation.

9:37 PM,

Sent 4 hours ago.

“Just grand, actually.” The redhead laughs, pointing out the mishap in Callie's new years banner, the one hung so proudly above the tv that read “HAPPY NEW YERAS!” The few other people she had invited hadn't arrived yet, and thank god for that, only Abby, Callie and Maeve being around made you less insecure about your sudden antisocial-ness.

You tune out the banter between the two, only looking up periodically when one asked if the banner was straight enough. You sink into yourself on the couch, phone in one hand while the other is occupied by your anxious teeth, the skin around your nails is raw, your eyes cloud with tears.

You're totally tuned out, so much so that when Abby calls your name and breaks you out of your anxious spiral, you have no idea what’s going on, or what to say.

“Sorry - what?”

10:00 PM,

Sent 5 hours ago.

“We asked if that's what you're wearing tonight?” Maeve intervenes, gesturing down to the team Edward shirt and ketchup stained boys shorts you were wearing. You look down at yourself, chuckling lightly at your appearance.

“Uh, no. I‘ll - I'll change, right now.” You ramble, your eyes don’t leave your phone once you stand from the couch, no matter how many eyes were on you, you were blissfully unaware.

“Hurry!” Callie shouts down the hallway, “Everyone will be here right away.” She confirms, chasing you down the streamer dressed hallway. She pushes her hands onto your shoulders playfully, face faltering as you don't react, eyes trained on your cell like a watchdog.

“Hey.. what’s up?” She asks, her tone worried. Her hands are on your waist, pulling you around to face her, you're out of sight from the other two girls, eyes welling up with real tears.

“I think.. I think she's ghosting me.” You flip the device around to show off a string of completely unanswered texts, all ranging from yesterday, when she left you confused at the restaurant, to 5 hours ago, a simple invitation to your cheap new years celebration in your apartment.

5:00 pm,

Were having a new years partY tn!! You should come babeee

i wanna kiss you at midnight ;)

Usually, a few hours of vacancy was normal, of course you couldn’t expect to be in constant conversation with a woman who's got a career and a wife, but you hadn't heard from her since the night at the restaurant, which wasn't normal.

“No. Are you serious?!” And suddenly, her entire focus was on you. The gathering is long forgotten as she all but shoves you into her bedroom, switching the fluorescent overhead light on faster than you could register what was going on.

You nod, the waterworks beginning as you scroll through the blue sea of texts. Small wet droplets stream down your face, breathe shaky and shallow as you try to compose yourself.

“I mean, she’s probably busy right? She has a wife, you gotta remember that..” Callie reasons, but it does nothing for your anxiety.

“No..” You shake your head, eyes slamming shut as you begin to lose your breath. “She.. She left me.”

Callie raises an eyebrow. She shakes her head in confusion as she brings her hands now to your shoulders, wrapping her fingers around your arms. “What do you mean, she left you?”

“At the restaurant.. She just got up and left, and I haven't heard from her since.” You explain, voice cowering from lack of breath. When you start rambling to explain yourself, Callie understands.

“Her phone was blowing up, and then she just got up and left.. i don't know why.” Callie nods, recalling the exact moment you walked in the apartment after that night. Eyes swollen and red, you refused to tell her why.

“You don't think…”

“I don't know!” You continue to cry, what once were soft cries and minimal streaks of tears was now bordering on panic attack territory.

“Okay, fuck.. okay. Just..” She stops for a moment, pausing to collect her thoughts. “You’re going to get really sexy, and drink until your head falls off. Unless you would rather pull up to her place of residence, I know I wouldn't be opposed to that..” You sniffle a sort of laugh at the idea, absolutely preposterous, but somehow entirely Callie.

You nod, as she stands you up, “You’re bad as fuck, chickie. I would say you don't need her, but I feel like the wound is still fresh, so.. she'll come around!” She promises, tone not so sure of herself.

“Get out there, get sexy.. Hell! You should totally kiss Abby!” She jokes, flipping through her closet for something inappropriate to dress you in. She pulls her arms out of the archive of black mini dresses and different party attire, a red off the shoulder dress, frill lace sticking out at the bottom of the short skirt. Callie investigates the piece, pushing it up against your frame. You were similar in size, so you had no doubts in her judgement.

“Here, take this. It’ll make your boobs pop, and look good in pictures.” She pauses for a moment, eyeing your wary gaze. “It has pockets.” She clarifies.

You snatch that dress so fucking fast.

The brunette smiles, perfect white teeth on display as she purrs in your direction. “That’s my girl! Now, go!” She ushers you out of the room quickly, you expect her to be behind you when you hear the door slam shut, but she isn't.

Surprising, but not out of the ordinary.

11:00 PM,

Sent 6 hours ago.

“What did you say your name was?” The boy across from you questions, a coworker of Callie’s - another person that wasn't her.

You answer, with a laugh you identify yourself to him. He nods.

The group all sit around the kitchen table, a few extra charges from the home having to be brought out. The boy who looks like James Franco sits on top of a crate. You observe the group; snacking and making conversation under the low hum of the music. A few new faces, a few familiar. All not quite fulfilling. You enjoy the plethora of laughs and the comfort of presence, but your mind shifts.

you swipe your phone open, making it into your text thread with Ellie in a few swipes, you frown and furrow your eyebrows at the lack of response. You scroll through the previous messages, all of which are delivered, but unread. You sniffle, fingers dancing over the keyboard, nobodies paying attention to your actions, or how you’ve been on your phone the entire time they’ve been here. Or Atleast, thats what you’ve told yourself to make you feel better.

11:55 pm,

Sent 55 minutes ago.

You weren’t sure when the group migrated to the living room, but now the music had shifted, louder, more vulgar, and all of a sudden everyone is taking shots, including you.

“Im so excited to start fresh, this year was insane.” A dancing Kelsey yells, braids thrashing in their ponytails as she moves. The rest of the group agrees, also occupying the living room floor.

You’re smiling and nodding when the weight of the couch shifts beside you, a tipsy Abby taking her seat next to you.

“You’re totally getting a noise complaint after this..” She begins, chuckling as she places a half full solo cup in your grabby hands.

“Yeah. Surprised we haven't got one already..” You laugh back, bringing the cup to your lips. You wince at the taste, whatever concoction was in here was sure to get you drunk. Really drunk.

“Hey,” She begins, you drag your eyes over to her own blue ones. You raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue speaking. “How’s things with Ellie, why isn't she here?” She throws you a flirtatious look, not one from her to you, but more as a ‘you think we didn't know about your fling, it was obvious.’

Your jaw drops, eyes wide as you gape in shock. “How did you know about that?! I told you we weren’t a thing!” You laugh, shoving a fist into her muscled shoulder.

The blonde laughs, a smirk building on her face. “Well, you weren’t exactly.. secretive about it. And, your roommates got a big mouth.” Abby adjusts herself in her seat, glancing over at the makeshift clock plastered onto the television.

Before you're able to inquire on why exactly she was asking about Ellie, she's tugging you off of the sofa and into the crowd of friends, singing something about the clock, and how it was almost time for the countdown.

Your then passed to Callie who shoves another shot of clear liquid into your hands, urging you to take it before the timer went off. You nod, swallowing the liquid with ease, it burns in your throat, but you’ve grown accustomed to the taste.

“FIVE!”

The group chants, you fight with yourself on whether or not you would let yourself have this, this moment, with your people.

“FOUR!”

You gently slip out of Callie’s arms, now lingering in the middle of the circle for a split second.

“THREE!”

Nobody notices when you slip away, all too focused on the remaining few seconds on the clock, some jump up and down, others prepare another shot.

“TWO!”

You pick your phone up off the couch, sliding up on your lock screen to reveal your messages app. A pair of brown eyes follow you, cursing under her breath as she looks back up at the clock.

“ONE!”

With a few swipes and a click, you’ve reopened the thread of messages. The pain jabs at your stomach when you read the screen.

“HAPPY NEW YEARS!”

12:00 AM,

Sent 1 hour ago.

Your hair is matted, your skin melting into the sheets of your bed. You had been sick for weeks, not physically, but the feeling of loss was worse than any sickness in the world. You had taken indefinite time off from work, now spending your days buried under a plethora of blankets, not sleeping, not eating. Just there. You hadn't showered in days, you’d neglected Callie and the important people in your life and the worst part is you couldn’t even bring yourself to care.

The room is silent, and dark. You're cuddled up to your chin in blankets, the white duvet beginning to carry a stale scent from the amount of rotting you’ve done in the past days. The door creaks open, revealing a sympathetic Callie. You look up from your device, but refrain from speaking — your eyes follow her as she sits on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, chickie..” She coos, bringing a gentle hand to rub up and down your back, the other holding a full plate of food. You flinch at the sudden touch. You don't answer, the faint hum of the video playing on your phone is the only noise in the room.

She sighs, her voice wavering and shallow. “I know… I know this is hard, but.. I'm worried about you..” She calls your name. You divert your eyes to her own, the brown orbs glossing over immediately. “Please…” She begs.

You sniffle, hiding the lower half of your face under the blanket. You shake your head into the pillow, hair flying to cover the side of your face. Your eyes burn, tears threatening to fall. “I cant.. i miss her so much.” You croak out, your voice cracking from your continuous silence.

“I know. And you're allowed to feel that way, but you can't live like this anymore.. you need to eat, to shower.” She isn't berating you or degrading you, but the sudden realization of your selfish habits causes you to nod and sit up.

”Jesus Christ.. I'm so sorry Callie.. I'm so sorry.. I just,” You words jumble into a string of babbles, Callie only shakes her head, shushing you, pulling you into a soothing hug. She whispers gentle praises into your ear, while rubbing the same hand down your back again.

You don't know how long she holds you, grey crewneck darkening as you sob into her. It could've been minutes, it could've been hours, you really weren’t sure. Your head fit into her neck like the final piece of a puzzle. She completed you — whether you cared to acknowledge it or not, she was your person.

“You don't have to apologize.. It's okay.” She pulls you up from under the covers, holding you in her arms so tightly that you weren’t sure you could escape if you tried. You pull your legs up to your chest, holding your knees tightly as you weep. The sound of your breathless cries fills the room, loud sobs slicing through silence.

You don't calm quickly, it takes a while for Callie to soothe your loud, cracking cries into small shaky whimpers. Her hand continues to move up and down your back, the plate of dinner now long forgotten, discarded on the hardwood floor.

The brunette presses a kiss to your head, not minding the knots in your hair, or the sweat that appears on your forehead, to her none of it matters.

“Why don't we go rewatch the Twilight saga and gorge ourselves on ice cream and Chinese takeout.. my treat?” She offers, selflessly. You nod into her neck, a string of snot connecting you to her as you pull away. You both snort, but you know she doesn't mind.

“Cmon, stupid.” She laughs, tugging you up from your spot on the bed. You ignore the pressure in your head, and the stinging in your throat, you felt like you were wrapped in barbed wire, but for a moment, you weren’t focused on Ellie. You wished it could stay that way.

You chew on the inner lining of your cheek, clouded eyes stuck on the bright screen in front of you, it contrasts with the dark room around you, shining on your face. You sniffle, refreshing the text thread once again.

Albert Einstein once said that the definition of insanity is doing something over and over again in expectation of different results.

You refresh the page again, the flood of your own drunken texts being the only thing to appear. Callies passed out on the couch beside you, the night of crying to romcoms and gorging on ice cream eventually catching up to her.

You retread through your previous texts to Ellie, the last being sent a mere six minutes ago. You sniffle harshly, wet snot tickles the inside of your nose. You begin to type. The same rephrased string of words you had sent her a thousand times already, you didn't have the willpower to come up with anything new.

What did I do wrong??? I thought we were good?? I thought you loved me.

you're such an asshole

i love you so much baby please

You groan, frustration building inside your stomach. The screen of your phone dims without a response, the device eventually shutting off. You sigh shakily, swiping the device open again to be met with silence. You don't fight the hot tears that begin to fall down your face.

You slip the thick wool blanket off of you, sneaking out of the living room on your tiptoes in order to avoid being caught by your roommate. You don't think twice before grabbing your jacket and keys, or slipping your phone into your pocket and your shoes onto your feet.

The wind greets you with a sharp kiss to your nose. The street is dark and empty, like a secret not yet to be told, eerily silent.

You groan as you weave through the streets, the silence doing absolutely nothing for your wandering mind. Your feet scuff against the movement, the wetness from the snow was almost gone, signaling the winter's end. You wander until your toes get cold, the fuzzy socks you had on doing little to protect you from the biting cold.

You sigh, kicking a few measly pebbles with the toe of your sneaker, they scatter. You slip your hand into the soft pockets of your jacket. You hesitatingly reach for the square device, looking at your messages felt like relapsing, a continuous cycle of frustration and confusion that you just couldn’t break.

Another shard of your heart splits at the lack of response, your texts hadn't even been read by the woman. You fight back tears, slipping the device back into your pocket. You drag your feet as you walk back to your apartment, the air was fresher than it was in the daytime, like it had been sifted of all the negative particles of the word.

You stopped counting the amount of texts you sent days ago, you were sure you were starting to look crazy, but for some reason, you didn't care. Ellie clouded your thoughts, like a song that you swear you don't like but can't seem to get out of your head.

you're about to turn around and make your way back home when a lightbulb goes off in your head. You knew there was a few convenience stores in the area, and were sure that if your roommate had woken up and figured out you were gone in the middle of the night, she would freak out and probably call the cops.

You better stop for an apology snack.

Back alleys and dark playgrounds are usually a no go for walks in the dead of night, but you’ve never been one to listen.

You walk quickly, hood over your head. You're sure you look shady, but you keep going, feet scuffing against the concrete. It doesn't take you long to get to the nearest 7/11, the fluorescent light welcomes you with a flicker. You squint, pulling the door open.

You greet the cashier with a tight lipped smile, a man you barely recognized, probably a new hire. You quickly dive for the chip aisle, shopping around for a few minutes until your eyes land on the biggest bag of salt and vinegar chips, a flavour that in your humble opinion, should have never been created, but you pick them up anyway — for Callie.

You chew your lip as you contemplate, eyes grazing over the assortment of chips again. You decide to go for the simple bag of plain chips, rippled of course.

You then head over to the candy aisle, the long shelves of sugar and chocolate looking a lot like heaven to your tired eyes and starved stomach. You aren't scared to bite, ransacking the colourful shelves.

You drag a playful finger down the rows of boxed chocolate, The tens of hundreds of names blurring as you walk down the aisle. The fluorescent light burns down on you, you squint as you pick up one of the treats. You barely read the name before shoving it into your arms alongside the other snacks.

You hum under your breath as you shop, flipping through the assortment of foods in the aisle. “Sour straps..” you sing under your breath, kissing your teeth as you grab the candy off the hook it's hanging from.

The packaging crinkles as you tug the sour straps open, not paying any mind to the cashiers semi-judgmental glare. You were gonna pay for them anyway. You shake your head as you head to the last place you needed to go, the coolers at the back of the store.

The wall of drinks is almost intimidating as a dehydrated shell of a person. You catch yourself wishing you were high with ellie, you chuckle at the thought of your late night gas station runs, the giggles that echoed throughout her car as you snacked on the cheapest candy and the stalest chips.

You tug the end of the sour strap out of your mouth, chewing on the grainy skin as you walk to the end of the wall. You stand against the glass door, holding it open as you reach for one of the last Arizona teas.

You shove the last bit of the sour strap into your mouth, eyes now drifting to the bottom of the refrigerator. You hum, crouching down to inspect your options.

“Hungry, are we?” A deep voice interrupts, startling you off the ground. When you turn around you're met with a smirking Abby. You press a hand to your pulsing heart, the organ beating exceptionally quick.

“Oh my god, Abby.” You breathe out, chuckling as you invite yourself into her arms. She hugs you tightly, wrapping a heavy arm around your back, pulling you close.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare ‘ya..” She laughs, stepping away from you. The bright light shines down on her messy blond braid, her bartending uniform sticking to her broad shoulders. You dismiss her with a nod, waving her off.

“Are you, uhm - are you just getting off?” You fidget with your fingers, the knowledge of your sudden disappearance weighs heavy between you, you hope to god she doesn't bring it up.

You stand idly in the aisle, fiddling with the battered sleeve of your hoodie, well, Ellie’s hoodie. Grey and tussled with, the fabric was no longer soft like when you first received it. It was now rough and coarse under your fingertips. Aged, worn.

Abby shakes her head, eyes widening at your question. “Yeah, yeah.” She starts, reaching around you to grab her drink of choice. You shift awkwardly, sniffling as you move.

“Nice, nice.” You sigh. Unable to think of anything else to say to the woman, you debate with yourself on running away, ending the conversation before it even begins.

“Y’know everyone really misses you..” well, never mind. You're trapped now as the uncomfortable subject is touched on. You nod along to her sentence, avoiding her empathetic gaze.

Abby and Callie were similar in that way, not pitying, but genuinely empathetic. Sometimes, you find yourself comparing them to the little angels on your shoulders. Your saviours.

“Yeah.. i know.. I’m sorry - I -” She places a hand on your shoulder, rubbing a gentle thumb against your covered skin.

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.. you need time, we understand.” She pulls you into her again, the bags of chips crinkling as you hit her chest. The smell of booze enters your nose as you press into her, to your surprise, the feeling it emits is only positive.

Your eyes well with tears as the woman rubs your back, chest pressed against chest, it was about as intimate as a hug in the middle of a convenience store gets. She held you close, eventually even going as far as setting her own things down to elope you further.

Your tender moment is quickly cut short, with the interruption of the man behind the counter, you're pulling away quickly. “You gonna pay for that?!” The accusatory voice asks, you throw your hands up, opening your mouth to speak, or scream, you aren't sure which one.

You don't get the chance to berate the perpetrator, however. As Abby’s already snatching her things from the coffee counter, and yours from your arms. “Yeah! I got it.” She smiles, no trace of hostility in her voice as she almost prances over to the counter.

You quickly trail behind her, slapping the back of her person In a poor attempt to stop her gracious act. “No! Abby - what the hell!” You shriek, voice attracting the attention of the few other store goers. She smirks, already yielding her plastic card, handing it to the guy across the counter.

A pang of guilt appears in your chest, Ellie had done this for you hundreds of times, and you had grown used to it, but now with Abby it was different.

She thanks the guy with a nod, grabbing two white plastic bags off of the counter. She hands you the heavier bag, beckoning you out of the store with the flick of a finger. You accept the bag of goodies with a snark, “you didn't have to do that.” You explain, she smirks - grabbing ahold of the door, letting you exit first, obviously.

“I know!” She chirps, smirking down at you as pass through the doorway. You roll your eyes playfully jabbing her in the shoulder. Her arm shoots up to the area in faux betrayal, letting the door slam behind her.

“You’re a child.” You laugh, letting your body rest against the brick wall behind you. Abby does the same, pulling out a small box of cigarettes to keep the moment going. She chuckles as she slips a single smoke into her mouth, offering the box in your direction.

You laugh again, a sound that has left your mouth about a dozen times since you were first spotted by the girl, and not once the second before. You accept the box, slipping a single cigarette from the box to your mouth. Abby follows with a lighter.

“So, how's things with the devil?” she inquires, looking over to you. Her voice is shallow, lungs working overtime as she talks and inhales in the same breath. You repeat the nickname back to her with a chuckle, lips pursed as you exhale the grey smoke.

“Well. We haven't talked in weeks, I'm depressed, and.. I'm smoking a cigarette outside of a 7/11 right now.” You snark, looking up at the woman beside you. She nods, grimacing at your explanation.

“Yikes..” You laugh in unison, what follows can only be described as pure and comfortable silence. You silently thank her for the interaction, leaning a heavy head against her arm, not quite reaching her shoulder.

The moment passes with the wind, dragging on until all you have left is a sore throat, heavy eyes, and a cigarette butt that you press into the pavement with your shoe. You sigh, pushing the remaining smoke out of your lungs as you pick the plastic bag off the ground.

“C’mon, I'll drive you back.” She offers with a wink. You exhale at the offer. Abby only chuckles as she whips out a pair of car keys, signaling for you to get in over the roof of the vehicle.

“Your chivalry will get you killed.” You notify, the blonde shrugs as she slips into her seat, chuckling as she settles into the leather. You roll your eyes, shaking your head dramatically.

“Maybe, but atleast i’ll die kind..” You don't expect the words to hit you so hard, to spark the negative reaction that they do — but you end up swallowing hard as you look away, an airy chuckle leaving your throat.

Your mind shifts back to Ellie, but this time not her person. This time your mind dances around the damage you’ve caused, parading through the wreckage of something so pure yet so cruel; a mistake.

This castle you‘ve built on another woman’s suffrage has finally crumbled beneath you, the inevitable collapse, something that couldn’t have been prevented, no matter how hard you loved or how little you cared. It had finally snapped beneath you, leaving you with not a trace of closure.

The lump in your throat persists, you swallow, almost choking on the ball. If Abby notices, she doesn't make it clear, eyes focused ahead as she cruises through the dark streets.

Your mind eats you alive. Then, the feeling bleeds into your stomach — it swirls, it stays, and it settles. You gag on it, the decaying sensation burning through flesh and blood. Eventually it infects your soul, are you a bad person you ask yourself, are you a horrible person for chasing something you deserved so badly?

It isn't honourable to be the one on the side. The other woman.

You didn't fight for it, or work for it. You just got lucky. You weren’t deserving of a life altering intimacy, you were destined for a bit of fun. Never amounting to what she is.

The dark streets eventually come to a halt in front of your building, the yellow hue of the street lamp shining down through the windshield of Abby’s car. You sigh, skull bouncing against the headrest.

Your eyes peel, now staring into Abby’s blue ones, they’ve darkened now, going from a powdered baby blue to azure, like a cloudless sky. “Thank you, really..” You give, your gratitude is real and raw, but you can't escape the pitiful truth of your humiliation.

Abby brushes you off, “Anytime, sunshine.” The nickname was common, but ironically enough, you felt the exact opposite of your handle. You give her a curt smile, nodding as you reach for the door.

“Wait.” She summons. You resales your grip on the handle, turning back to her with a sudden quickness. Abby's affection nearly brings tears to your eyes, you sniffle as she wraps gentle hands around the sides of your faces, cradling you as she brings your forehead to her lips.

You stay there for a moment, wrapping a hand around her wrist. You both hold on, silence almost settling, she whispers; "You've got so many people that love you,” She calls your name at the end, reassuring you as she pulls you into another hug.

“No matter what happens with her, you're not alone. you are so loved, even if you don't feel it.. ” You hold onto the words, trying to make sense of each and every syllable. You bury your face into her neck, it felt wrong, all of it.

But you stay put anyway.

4:01 AM,

Sent 2 hours ago.

Callie hadn't moved since you left, you silently thank god. You were in no position to explain your whereabouts to the probing court. You don't stick around, putting the snacks away and tucking your slumbering roommate in as best you could, tears streaming down your face the whole time.

You sit idly in your chair, cheeks squished against fists as you fight to hold your head up, the journal before you is full, entries upon entries from before this mind battling affair had begun, when you were still you.

I feel, I feel, I feel…

you scribble, but the words don't come.

You dance in your seat, fighting with your conscience to find a way to describe your current state. But you're scared, because the second that pen hits the paper, it becomes real. All the tormenting things you’ve done without a care, all the selfishness and sorrow.

woe is you, i guess.

Your eyelids strobe under the pressure of your headache, you feel unwell. Your exhaustion pulls at your muscles and beats on your bones. The thought of crawling back into bed amuses you and angers you at the same time. You know you’ll succumb.

“I think I'm gonna go back to work tomorrow.” You declare out into the abyss. You're standing in the kitchen, boyshorts and band t-shirt reeking of body door and sleep.

Callie's head raises, teeth bared in an almost violent smile. Abby's there too, silently nodding as you pursue.

“Really? That’s great!” Your roommate beams, she almost jumps up to hug you, but the blonde stops her, warning her to proceed with calmness. It was comical, really, as if you were a young doe — frightened by any sudden movements or stimuli.

“Yeah, I'm really feeling better recently.” You explain, but your appearance says otherwise. It’s not a lie, but possibly too big of a step.

The two women share a look that you don't quite catch, your attention too focused on the screen in front of you.

3:45 PM,

Sent 3 days ago.

“Do you think that's a good idea?” Abby asks, sitting up in her seat. You look up from your phone, now all attention is on you. Callie raises a hopeful eyebrow, gesturing for you to reply.

“I mean, yeah. I really miss working.. And, I think getting out of the house during the day will help.” The two women nod, faces growing optimistic. You can tell they’re doubtful, but you smile anyway, shoving your face back into your phone.

“Are you planning on going back to dancing too, or just bartending?” The inquiry proceeds. You think about the question for a moment, but the truth is, youre completely unsure. You were in no headspace to dance, but the funds were there, they were still yours.

You think about the first time Ellie walked into the bar, and suddenly you didn't want to return at all.

“Uhm…” You begin, looking over to the two girls, and then down at your lap.

“It’s okay if you don’t know, baby steps, remember?” Callie explains, her voice as soft as a mothers when disciplining a naughty child. Abby nods in agreement, eyes crinkling underneath as she smiles.

The gentle altruism is truly the calm after the storm; shocking in a way that relieves you, shocking in comparison to what you expected of them. You weren’t sure what that was but you knew it wasn't patience, and understanding. It frustrates you in a way, it's unwavering, undeserved.

“Right, yeah.. I'm just - uhh, I'm gonna take a shower.” You declare in a whisper. The chair scrapes against the hardwood floor as you stand. You don't care to tuck it in, instead leaving with not another word.

You can hear a faint sigh after you exit the main room, and the low hum of conversation building up as you shut the bathroom door behind you.

I feel, I feel, I feel.

All you have is emotion. As your castles crumble and your life is snatched out from underneath you, you begin to grow comfortable in your sadness.

You curse the feeling, its death a near uncertainty. You exhale with heaviness as you wipe down the bar top, cloth soaking up what you assume to be red wine, for your sake.

“Jesus. I don't remember this being a manual labour job..” You joke, igniting a laugh from your coworker behind you. You turn to the woman, a wide smile spread across your face.

“You’re just used to dishing drinks, that's why.” She throws back, you scoff, turning to whip her with the grossly damp fabric.

She grimaces, stepping back before the cloth can make an impact. “Woah there, sweetheart. Abuse? On your first day back?” Abby cocks her head to the side, a sly smirk on her lips, a sharp glint in her eyes.

You scoff, “Whatever.” She backs off, but not before making sure you're laughing, and not crumbling in on yourself.

“You’re doing good.” She affirms with a nod, her hand is back on your shoulder, you're starting to believe it belongs there.

“Thanks, abs.. I appreciate it.” You exhale. You know she means it, but it doesn't make it any more believable. She doesn't say anything else before she walks off, back off to the kitchen, or out for a smoke, you weren’t sure.

The night only bites harder as the customers swarm in, clearly the crowd of drunken party goers didn't see your absence, and if they did, they did not care to acknowledge it.

Your sadness only slowed time for you. The rest of the world continued, in its good and evil — life persisted, with or without you.

A hazy voice interrupts your moment of wallowing, you quickly look up at the counter. You smile when you recognize the woman, a former dancer.

“Oh, Bianca! What’re you doing here?!” You ask, trying your best to channel your inner sunshine. She chuckles, looking down at her lap for a quick moment. She rests an elbow against the marble countertop,

“Uhh, yeah - haha. I'm just here for a couple drinks.. to wind down, Y’know?” You nod, taking note of the new uniform, a company you didn't quite recognize displayed across her breast.

“Oh boy, do I ever.” You laugh, she smiles.

“Anyways, what can I getcha’?” You inquire, reaching under the table for a rocks glass, you had served the girl multiple times before, so you had a tinge of an idea as to what she might be looking for.

She chuckles when she sees the glass, pointing at it with a smirk. “You know me well.. whiskey, on the rocks please.” She sighs, dropping her head against the table with a dramatic bang.

“Coming right up!”

2:36 AM,

Sent 5 days ago.

“So, you’ve been gone awhile..” You didn't expect her to bring it up, you weren’t even aware that she knew of your absence. You turn around slowly, a meek smile on your face.

“Yeah, I've just been going through a lot of mental stuff.. so..” She nods inquisitively, you rip at the skin around your nail beds, a newfound anxious tick.

“Oh, that really sucks.. I'm sorry.” She declares her sympathy with a smile, taking a swig from her almost empty cup, the ice rattles against the glass.

“It's okay, I'm better now!” You exclaim, only, you knew it wasn't the truth. You're eager to change the subject, now prying into her personal life to evade the previous conversation.

“What about you, what’re you doing now?” Bianca flinches at the question, looking away from you for a short moment. When she looks back it’s timid, wary.

“I got hired by this private company, if you know what I mean..” She whispers, leaning over the counter so you could hear her over the roaring music. You raise an eyebrow, you sure hoped she wasn't hinting at what you thought she was hinting at. You hum, towel fisting a dripping glass.

“You still dancin’?”

You’re not sure how to answer, you haven’t danced in weeks and were entirely uninterested in going back, but your financial situation was telling you otherwise.

“I guess we’ll have to see this weekend..” You joke, shifting your weight onto a single foot as you lean against the bar. Bianca tugs her lip between pearly teeth, you clear your throat, lifting off the counter, taking her glass with you.

It sneaks up on you again, strangely. It greets reeting you like an old friend you don't really want to see.

You don't leave your room, never mind your apartment. The shower stays untouched, and your head remains full, thoughts fighting for dominance. You stop eating, stop writing, your journal lies empty underneath the mattress. You quit going to work, and ignore all the texts concerned as to your whereabouts.

Callie stops prying, she doesn't force you to eat, or push you to shower. She just lets you, but not before informing you that she's just a few steps away.

You continue to rot, not hearing your work alarms, or the calls from Abby, all of a sudden, nothing matters.

Your eyes are heavy, sore and wet as you fight to keep them open, fingers scrolling through the plethora of texts between you and Ellie, every pet name and every i love you bringing more tears out of you.

Your chest heaves as you cry into your stuffed bear, coincidentally a gift from Ellie. A loud sob tears through you as you swipe the keyboard up.

You fall in, again.

11:14 PM,

Sent 42 seconds ago.

I miss you so much, please just say something Ellie i just wanna know what i did wrong.

i love you ellie.

You don't expect it, but when the “read: 11:15 PM” receipt appears you swear your heart jumps straight out of your chest. You pause, snot pooling on your upper lip, eyes puffy and shaking. You hadn't heard from her in a month, this being the only sign of life you had received from her.

Your hope starts to fade as the minutes tick by, agonizing and slow. You stare at the screen for half an hour, but to no avail. This only makes you cry harder, lip quivering as you drop your head back against the headboard.

Your phone slips out of your hands, landing on the floor with a noise that's sure to wake your roommate, you don't care. You shove your hands over your face in a poor attempt at masking your cries.

The action does nothing for you, beckoning your best friend into the room with urgency.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay.. Talk to me. What happened?”

ONE YEAR AGO, THURSDAY.

“No, I don't think a fish would win in a fight with a frat boy.” You laugh, leaning forward against the counter as you continue.

“That’s because you're thinking inside the box, obviously.” A coworker adds, the same one who proposed such an insane scenario.

“I'm just wondering, like.. what are the circumstances.. are we in the ring?” Abby adds on, only channeling more laughter from a giggling you. The previous coworker makes a face, as if to say you‘re onto something.

You can hear the conversation getting heated as you stray away from the group, starting a few tabs, closing a few others. You shoot them a sarcastic glare, the debate drawing the attention of a group of drunk men.

You shake your head, giggling to yourself as you focus on filling a few glasses. Eyes down as a voice breaks through the chaos.

“They always that funny?” The feminine voice asks, your head immediately shoots up. You lose your words as you drink in exactly what you were faced with. A beautiful older woman, auburn locks choppy at her neck, piercing green eyes looking you up and down as you shift on your feet.

You don't say anything, you just stare. Mouth agape and eyes wide. You were sure she was a first time customer, if she had been here before, you would’ve recognized her.

“You okay, sunshine?” She smirks, a single eyebrow raised. You shake your head, a few stray pieces of hair fall into her face, you almost reach to tuck them behind her ear.

“I - yes, I am fine. How are you?”You stutter, leaning back against the counter, wincing gently at the cold. The woman nods, smiling as she slips her hands out of view for a moment.

“I'm alright, I'd be better if you could make me a drink, though.” She flirts, winking as she shoves her card your way. You nod, accepting the card with pride.

“Absolutely! I’ll take great care of this!” you joke, holding up the card between your pointer and middle finger. The woman nods again, licking her lips as she adjusts in her seat.

“So, what’ll it be?” You probe, swinging your towel over your shoulder. The woman pretends to think for a moment, squinting as she ganders over the assortment of bottles behind you.

“I will do..” she pauses, gaze flickering back up to you. “What would you suggest, doll?” She smiles, it draws you in immediately — fluorescent and flirtatious.

“Well, I like fruity drinks.. and you don't look like the fruity drink type.” You clarify, arms pushing underneath your breasts as you lean against the counter.

The woman cocks her head to the side, “Is that so? What type do I look like then?” She flirts, and you're compelled to notify her that she's your type, but you stay quiet. You peer into her for a moment, her green eyes sharp and inquisitive.

“I’d say.. you look like a rum drinker, maybe whiskey..” She nods, pursing her lips as she pulls away from the counter. You wondered if this sudden tension was felt by her too.

“Okay, I'll take it.. Jack Daniels, neat.” She nods, cheeks full as she smiles through her words. You nod, and suddenly you're slipping down the bar, pouring her drink like it was second nature.

You slide the glass across the counter, fingers remaining as the auburnette slips it from your hand. Her fingers brush against yours when she grabs the glass, rough calloused skin setting jolts through your body.

She nods, holding the glass out to you as a thank you. You eye her up as she takes the first sip of the drink. You smile, optimistic of her reaction.

“You like?” You draw, prying into her. She nods, gulping down her second sip as she gently places the glass back onto the bar top.

You clap, jumping up and down as you spur out a string of self praises. “I told you you were a whiskey girl.” You declare, pointing at her with a small lip bite. The woman chuckles, biting down a louder laugh.

You relish in the silence for a few moments, dishing out a few other drinks as the woman’s eyes follow you around the bar, eyes running up and down your body. You don't point it out, you were quite fond of the attention anyway.

When she beckons you over for a refill, she asks for your name. You beam your response, introducing yourself with ease. Your bubbly disposition doesn't go unnoticed by the woman, her freckles go pink at your liveliness.

She slips her hand over the bar, taking yours into a firm handshake. “I‘m Ellie. I work at the insurance firm over on Grey.” She confirms, you nod along to her biography, recognizing her place of work from only the street name.

“Well, Hi Ellie, I'm glad you're here!” You grin, voice light and welcoming.

Ellie nods, “I'm glad I'm here too.”

You feel sick by Thursday, you don't dare take the chance of going in for your shift. Callies back at school now, leaving you alone in the house, surrounded by only your thoughts.

The meds you were prescribed didn't go with your lifestyle, the list of side effects being longer than Ellie's paystub, do not mix with alcohol, take at the same time everyday, may lead to excessive migraines, stomach pain, and even death.

You didn't dare take them, just leaving the bottle beside your bed like a trophy of your illness, a reminder.

You aren't sure how long you lay there, hyper focused on nothing and everything at the same time. You stay in your room for days, body aching as you continue to fight with your mind.

You fall in and out of consciousness, the tranquil not being any better than restlessness. She follows you into your dreams, tormenting you with her soft auburn locks and sly smile.

You don't speak to your roommate when she comes home, you don't eat the food she leaves outside your door, you just wither away in silence. practically mortifying in your own body.

Your brain was holding you captive, killing you slowly.

There were bad days and worse days. Never good days, or average days, just — agony. You went to work sometimes, only ever accompanying Abby behind the bar, you don’t remember the last time you touched the pole.

Then, you would come home, unfulfilled. And the cycle continues. It was degrading and humiliating, but you were too sad to care. You were no longer you, you were unrecognizable.

Eye bags deep and poignant, skin breaking out into a flush of acne, tears running your eyes dry. It was an eyesore to anyone else.

A day goes by, maybe two before Callie comes into your room again. You look up from your phone, eyes bloodshot and wet. She stands there for a moment, expression unreadable.

“Get up. We’re going for a drive.” Her soft demeanor has faded, this time she's telling you, not asking.

You open your mouth to speak, eyes watering at the mere thought of leaving your position. Callie doesn't allow you to intervene, crossing her arms.

“Don't argue with me, just get up, get dressed, do whatever you need to do.” She waves her hand in a circle, gesturing towards your still body. You sigh, digging your head into the pillow for a few seconds.

You feel her presence, watching, waiting.

Surprisingly, you comply. Dragging yourself out from under the heavy covers and off the bed. Callie smiles, dropping her arms from her chest. Her hard exterior fades, you knew it was a front, but you felt the sudden urge to do this, for her.

“There’s my girl.” She praises, sliding her arms around your waist. You grip onto her shirt, holding her as close and as tight as possible. You let her feel you, pressing her chest to yours as she rubs a gentle hand up and down your back.

She pulls away a few moments after you drop your head onto her shoulder. With a laugh she directs you to the bathroom. “For an Olympic bed rotter, you don't smell too bad. Get ready, I'll be waiting.” She affirms, patting your shoulder gently.

You nod, trudging your way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. When you look in the mirror, you don't recognize the person staring back at you, it breaks your heart in a way. Your softness and warmth had faded, you were now battered, rough around the edges, broken.

You look away before the tears can drip from your eyes, you were doing this for Callie, no matter how much you hated the idea.

“Okay, I'm ready.” You sniffle, waddling out of your bedroom. You had cleaned yourself up in due time, pulling your hair back, scrubbing your under arms out with a now worn cloth and throwing on a fresh set of clothes. You almost felt normal.

Callie smiles up at you, slipping her arm underneath yours. She quickly turns the lights out, grabbing her car keys and dragging you out the door.

It's dark when you slip into the passenger seat, part of you wonders what day it is, and if you’ve really spent multiple days rotting in your self pity, the other part doesn't want to look, in fear of being right.

“Where are we going?” You manage to croak out, slipping your slippers off of your feet. You cross your legs in the passenger seat, setting yourself up comfortably.

Callie smiles, secretive. You knew the girl wasn't one for half-assing things. She was the dramatics, you knew she had a plan. She turns her body, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Can’t tell you yet, chickie. It's a surprise.” You groan, letting your head fall back onto the seat. Callie laughs, eyes following the street.

“Cmon, man.” You pout, pulling your knees up to your chest, Callie looks at you for a split moment, slapping your knee lightly.

She shakes her head as she turns it back to the road. “Nope. And, put your seatbelt on?! You’re gonna get me arrested and sent to prison.” She shrieks, slapping at your chest from her seat.

You fall forward in laughter, "You're so dramatic! Oh my god. You're not gonna get the death sentence because I didn't put my seatbelt on right away.” She pulls the car into a slow, stopping at the first red light.

She turns her head, eyes wide in mock offense. “You don't know that! Put it on!” She reaches for her phone, plugging it into the aux cord. She throws the device into your lap as you pull the leather strap across your body.

“Ow! You're so..” You thin your lips mockingly, shaking your head back and forth as you open her phone, the password being your birthday. You scroll through Spotify for a few seconds, you click your teeth before clicking on her “vibe killa :3” Playlist.

She turns her head, a blank expression on her face. She blinks a few times before cocking her head. “Really? REALLY?!” You laugh, hunching over again. “Turn that sad shit OFF. Play something good, ohmygod.” She scoffs, chuckling as she continues driving.

Eventually, the car comes to a comfortable silence, the faint hum of the music saying everything that needs to be said. Sometimes Callie would butt in with a small joke, and you would laugh, but that was all.

Soon enough the cracked abandoned strip malls and unfinished construction faded into modern mansions and condos that reached the sky. Your heart stops, head filling with a mantra of what ifs, and how comes.

The neighbourhood you knew all too well, the palaces and parks that extended for miles and miles, Ellie’s neighborhood.

“Cal - Callie. Where are we going?” You croak, your throat closing in on itself. Suddenly, the car was too small and your head was pounding. Your roommate scoffs, not realizing your mental dilemma in the passenger seat.

“Im taking you to the beach, happy? Way to ruin a surprise.” She laughs, shaking her head. When you don't reply, or even laugh, she looks over at you, finally.

“Woah, woah, woahwoah..” She slows the vehicle, eventually pulling over to the side of the road. You juggle with your thoughts, you weren’t quite crying but you were close.

“Hey, what the hell happened?” She quickly unclips her seatbelt, reaching over to console you. She places two hands on your shoulders, as she stares into your eyes.

“This is her street, I swear.. Callie - this is so bad, we-” You ramble, sticking your arms out to ground yourself.

“Listen to me, it’s okay-”

“We have to go there, I can’t-” You stutter as you reach for your seatbelt. Callie shakes her head, stifling an honest laugh.

“Okay.. absolutely not.” Your roommate pushes your shaking body back against the seat, bringing your eyes to her own. But when she's met with your tearful eyes and pouty lips, something inside her flips.

“Please..” You beg, another salty droplet falling from your waterline. The brunette drops her head, nodding slowly.

“Y’know what.. sure, fine. But this is a terrible idea and it is all you.” She replies, pushing herself back into her seat. You're surprised by her acceptance, immediately shooting yourself forwards, wrapping her in a hug.

“What’s the address?” She asks as she begins to drive again, hand rested on the gear stick. You sniffle, pulling yourself together as quick as possible.

“It’s uhm.. like 765, 766.. I think..” You sniffle again, swallowing the lump in your throat. Callie looks back at you quickly, head whipping around.

“You don't even know - Y’know what, never mind.”

The drive is silent, eerily lacking any tension whatsoever. You continue down the street, nerves building as you get closer and closer. You weren’t sure where the obscure idea came from, but your desperation grows thick. It coats the inside of your brain until it's all you can think about, and you hope and pray that seeing her will give you that instant release.

The car comes to a stop, a few houses down from the one you used to frequent. Callie turns to you in your seat, “Okay, I'm gonna stay right here. And I know I said this is all you but if you need me to beat some ass,” She fake punches the air, jerking forward. You flinch back at her demonstration. “I will. No questions. Just like - boom! And Dina Woodward Williams is on the ground.”

You laugh at her vulgarity, but deep down you appreciate her loyalty. You nod one last time, shoving the car door open before you or Callie change your mind.

The sidewalk is cleaner than the one in your neighborhood, you stare down at it as you pass by the neighbouring homes. Your nerves bunch up in your stomach, tangling themselves around your stomach, stabbing into the organ like barbed wire.

You sigh, attempting to shake the tension out of your shoulders as you reach the driveway. The house mocks you, you’re embarrassed to be here, but you continue. You walk up the path until your palms are dripping with sweat.

You can't see in the windows, the curtains rolled down to the bottom. You can only imagine what’s going on inside that house. When you reach the front doors, you can hear your breath, shaky and light.

You count to three, stomach knotting at all the possible outcomes of this exchange. You breathe out one last time, raising your fist.

Tap, Tap, Tap!

You exhale, dropping your arm back down to your side.

I feel, I feel, I feel..

The door opens. A confused looking woman, not Ellie nor Dina. You sigh, partly of relief and of frustration. “Hey honey, how can I help you?” the woman asks, running a hand down her uniform.

You choke, peeking into the house behind her, no sign of any of the women. No sign of Ellie. You stutter, looking back at the woman, who's now raising a confused eyebrow.

“I-” You scramble for a response, opting to pull out of the mission at the last second. You let out an airy chuckle. “I think I have the wrong house.” The woman steps more into view, based on her face you can only assume she thinks you’re a victim of some sort. And in a way, you are.

“Are you sure?.. Do you need to come in?” The elder lady asks, peering into you. You smile, shaking your head urgently.

“Yep! Nope! Yes, I'm okay- bye!” You Babble out, the woman doesn't get a chance to respond before you’re dashing back down the driveway, almost sprinting after you turn the corner. Truly it was the most exercise you’ve had in months.

“I.. couldn’t do it.” You howl, mouth open as you cry, a string of spit connects your two rows of teeth. Callie holds onto you, whispering small praises into your ears. You stay like that, sobbing into Callie until your lungs give out and your throat stings.

It was also utterly pathetic, the way you slip into the car and start bawling immediately. Callie takes you into your arms, pressing a chaste kiss to your head.

The sand is cold and grainy beneath your feet. You dig your toes into the wet sludge, it grounds you.

Callie guides you down the shoreline, pants rolled up to her knees to avoid getting them wet. The waves swish gently in the distance, creating a soft hum where the dark sky meets the water.

You're the only people occupying the land, no birds soaring through the sky, torturing anything that breathes, or other people, speaking in hushed voices and dressing with the water.

After your meltdown, you and Callie had quite the laugh regarding your shortcomings. The pathetic outcome of your taboo visit to Ellie’s home quickly became nothing more than a joke, for now.

You don't flinch when the water brushes against you, tickling the skin of your feet. For a while, nobody speaks, just letting the sound of the waves lead you. The night is old, the hour now sneaking up on the early ams.

The breeze kisses your face, tearing through your hair and your clothes, the fabric blows in the wind.

Your mind travels, it moves through everything, not leaving a single thought behind. You think about Ellie and Dina, Abby and Callie. Even your mother. You can't put your finger on why, but you keep thinking.

You wonder how different your life would be if you never met Ellie, if you never hooked up with her in the parking lot of your job, if you never let her weasel into your life like a predator searching for its prey. The entire thing feels like a shot to the head, a one and done type of deal, leaving a mess for someone else to clean.

You think about your past, and how it led you here. You're no psychologist, but you're not sure your life would’ve gone this way if it wasn't for the despicable acts of your heroin yielding mother.

“The two of you are like snow on the beach.” Callie speaks up. The cutting silence causes you to look up quickly. You raise an eyebrow at her, hoping for anything optimistic to come out of her mouth.

“Weird but fucking beautiful?” You chuckle, kicking up at the sand as you continue to walk down the beach.

“Polar opposites, not meant to last forever.” She clarifies, You scoff. You wonder if she's going to continue, to explain how bad this whole thing is for you - how toxic Ellie is, but she doesn't. She just leaves you with the idea, letting you wallow.

You think for a moment, piecing together all the cracks of your relationship. The fantasy that you lived. You and Ellie were polar opposites, your lifestyles clash too heavily. The power imbalances, the luxurious gifts, the one thing keeping you apart. You were doomed from the beginning. No matter how hard you fought the inevitable, it would always be true - Ellie loved Dina, you were just something different.

No matter how hard you loved, or how softly you kissed her head as she slept, no amount of pressure or time or bargaining would make that ring disappear, and you had to accept that.

You and Ellie were like fire, but Dina was water. Cold, and vicious, only there to prevent the flame from growing.

You sigh, “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

3:16 AM

Sent, 5 days ago.

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