#belle one-shot

[thestoryofusstan]

Sweet Creature

harry styles masterlist

pairing: kinda dark!harry styles x reader

summary: harry’s mother finds a girl on the side of the street one day while harry’s away. he hears about her for months, until he finally decides to see for himself. expecting her to be an undercover rat, he is surprised to find a girl more similar to a deer in headlights.

warning: kinda dark harry kinda alludes to him doing illegal, mafia type stuff but it isn’t specified. third person writing instead of second, READER DOESN’T USE HER REAL NAME!!! she will eventually just not yet.

—

harry had been hearing about some girl non-stop. by who, you may ask?

his mother.

his sweet, kind mother somehow found a girl who was living on the streets, took her in (gave her his room!), and is obsessed with her.

“oh, harry, she’s just the sweetest! gemma says she’s like a kicked puppy, but she’s just so sweet. this morning, i woke up, and she’d cleaned the whole house! and i asked her why, because i obviously didn’t tell her to, and she said she figured she should. you’d love her. proper sweetheart.”

and honestly, it was sweet. he probably would like her if he wasn’t the way he is. because the way he is, he thinks it’s a trap. he thinks she was never really living on the streets, and it’s a ploy. someone found his family and is trying to ruin it.

but, of course, he’d never let his mother know of the way he actually is and thinks, or what he does for a living.

“she sounds lovely, mum. what did you say her name was?”

“she says it’s belle. she’s always singing some french song. i think she lived in france before she got here.. i’m not sure. she isn’t very talkative.”

“she got an accent?”

“a little bit of everything, hazza. when will you come visit? i think you have to be the one to tell her that your room is hers now. she keeps saying ‘harry’s room’ and ‘your son’s room’. i feel horrible!”

“she’s probably just weary mum. if she was on the streets before, she probably just doesn’t want to jinx it.”

“you’re right.. gosh, she won’t even let gemma and i buy her things. she just borrows gemma’s clothes and apologizes a bunch for it. i’m not sure what to do.”

“i’ll come visit soon.”

—

and he did. a surprise visit in the middle of the night, because he was convinced he’s find this belle girl doing shady things .

except when he snuck in the front door, the house was quiet.

alright, he supposes, she’s stealthy.

so he goes upstairs and quietly opens his bedroom door.

and that’s when it’s a little louder. a girl is twisted and turning and mumbling in her sleep on his bed.

all she is saying, from what he can hear, is no. no, no, no, no, no. please, no.

and he feels a little bad, so he walks over to tap her. when that doesn’t work, he shakes her.

her eyes snap open and she has probably the worst reaction possible in this situation.

she fucking screams. like a goddamn banshee.

and sure, it lasts for maybe five seconds, probably four, but she definitely woke his mother up. and it’s so loud, he backs up to the doorway.

gemma was probably still passed out. she would sleep through the world ending.

“hey! it’s just me, calm down!”

she squinted at him through the darkness before yanking the chain on the lamp, turning it on.

he could hear her practically hyperventilating from the doorway.

she let out a sigh of relief when she recognized him from the photos in the living room.

“you really are jumpy, huh?”

“i woke up to a random man hovering over me,” she deadpans.

he almost laughs.

“it’s my room.”

and it’s like a fucking switch. her breaths are staggered and labored, but she still rushes out a whole ass monologue. kicked puppy, indeed.

“oh, my god. i am so sorry. i forgot. i can— i can take the couch— you probably want to sleep in your bed. i’m sorry, anne didn’t say you were coming by or else i would’ve cleaned up—“

the room is spotless, probably cleaner than when he stays in it, but harry doesn’t say that.

“i’ll just.. grab my blanket and stuff and go to the couch. i’m so sorry, i didn’t know—“

“relax,” he finally says. “i knew you’d be in here. i was just.. grabbing a pillow. didn’t realize mum was serious about you being jumpy.”

“oh.. uh.. are you sure? i can take the couch—“

“belle— belle, right?” she nods. “go back to bed. i have slept on plenty of couches. i will survive.”

“i feel bad.”

“well, don’t.”

he should feel bad. she is very clearly not dangerous unless she is a phenomenal actress.

“you’re not mad, are you? because i can sleep on the couch—“

“jesus, are y’gonna cry?”

“i can’t help it! i’m sorry!—“

“what on earth is going on— harry! what did you do!” anne asked as she rushed through the doorway, moving to sit next to belle.

“i didn’t do anything!” he defends.

“he didn’t do anything, anne,” she repeats. “just.. frightened me, is all.”

anne gives her a look before pulling her into a hug, and she just flips another switch and instead of watering eyes, she sobs.

who the hell is her acting coach? maybe he could take a few lessons.

“h, go get her a cuppa.. and there’s those baby yogurt melts in the cupboard.”

he doesn’t comment on the fact that belle is at the very least 19, and probably shouldn’t be eating baby food.

—

the next morning, belle made her way downstairs quietly. she was surprised to see harry making a cup of tea this early, but she didn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb his peace.

she adjusted her earbuds in her ear (anne offered to buy her better ones, airpods or something, but she was fine with her earbuds, even if the wire was a pain in the ass), so they didn’t fall out as she walked.

once she made it into the kitchen, she walked into the pantry, grabbing some random granola bar.

when she turned, she jumped. harry was right behind her. well, in front of her now.

“sorry,” she mumbled, moving out of his way.

he muttered something she didn’t understand.

“um.. sorry about.. last night. i’m kind of jumpy.”

“i noticed.”

he was very short. he didn’t seem to like her much.

“you can.. uh.. take your.. room back.. if you want.”

“it’s yours. i’m fine.”

“are you—“

“i’m sure.”

rude. why was he so rude? what had she done to him? well, besides scream at him, but in her defense, he was just hovering over her! that’s weird!

—

harry still didn’t trust her after a week of being there. she kept to herself for the most part, although he was pretty sure he heard her and gemma giggling in the middle of the night.

he just couldn’t figure out who sent her. why she was here.

his mother explained her freakout when he showed up eventually.

“you gotta be careful with her, h. she’s like.. a bunny, in a way. if you aren’t careful in how you approach her and speak to her, she bolts. first day she was here, i asked her what happened, because she had this horrible cut on her cheek. locked herself in your room for a week. i think whatever put her on the streets is a sensitive topic, and was difficult for her.”

“i jus’ dunno if i trust her, mum.”

“well, i do. she’s sweet, she just needs to warm up to you. she warmed up to me and gemma after about a week or two.. and she’s been more jumpy when gem brings michael around. so.. she might just need a minute.”

“the whole thing just seems.. shady.”

“she’ll tell us when she’s ready. and until then, you’ll make her feel welcomed. speaking of, i’m gonna go wash her clothes. poor girl won’t let us buy her anything. she just has these same clothes she had and a few things gemma convinced her to use.”

—

a/n: little thing i wrote on a plane, part 2 soon-ish maybe

[cerisereids]

aaron hotchner struggles accepting the love he deserves.

that’s why he shuts down when you move in next door. you, with your flowy dresses and baked goods and shiny lips. he doesn’t dare go near you. how could he, when he has the exact opposite of a midas touch? he wouldn’t even dare to think of putting you in harm’s way, which is why he rejects the brownies you offer him the day after your move in. his heart cracks at the way your face falls, but his legendary poker face has gotten him this far, and it’ll get him out of this, too. or so he thinks.

you show up the next day, and the day after that. soon, his kitchen counter is laden with cookies, cakes, and pies. jack is in heaven, and hotch himself can’t help but indulge. as his teeth sink into the chewy goodness of a chocolate chip cookie, he chastises himself for wondering if your lips taste just as sweet. he imagines kissing you after you taste test one of your treats, maybe licking some frosting off your top lip.

guilt and shame creep up his spine, slithering around his body until his heart is constricted with it. he can’t think like this. not with you. not when you’re so good. you’re so good, and he’s been through so much bad, what if that’s all he is now? why on earth would someone so sweet and beautiful want a divorced widower with a child? it makes no sense to him, so he shakes off any possibility of it even happening. even if the looks you give him from your garden tell him otherwise.

he recalls the times this week he’s seen you out while he’s arriving home from work. the way your eyes would follow up and down his body, how you’d bite your lip as you said hello. the way your gaze lingered on his biceps that were stuffed into his button up is seared into his memory. he normally saves these memories for bed time, or during a cold shower, but you’re taking up his brain capacity at a rapid pace. he’s afraid there’s no pumping the brakes.

one day, after two weeks of you bringing him baked goods and eye fucking him from your yard, you appear on his front doorstep. only this time, there’s not a treat in your hand, but an entire picnic basket.

“hi!” you chirp, your beautiful smile etched onto your face, “sorry to bug, i hope you’re not busy! it’s such a beautiful day outside, i thought it’d be perfect for a picnic, and i’d love some company! maybe we could get to know each other some more!”

his heart completely stops. he’s surprised he doesn’t go comatose in that very moment.

“w-wow!” he stutters, clearing his throat. smooth, aaron, “that sounds great, but i don’t have a sitter for jack…” he hates to decline, but his son has always come first. any woman entering his life needs to know that. not that you’re entering his life, right?

“oh! that’s not a problem! he’s invited too, i packed a peanut butter and jelly, but then i thought he could be allergic to peanut butter, so there’s a ham and cheese one in there for him too!” he sees you grow bashful at your rambling, your cheeks heating even more under the warm july sun. he has to fight the urge to kiss that pretty face, one on each cheek.

“that sounds wonderful,” he says gently, a smile in kind forming on his face, “let me go grab him.”

jack is elated to spend the day in the park with the new nice neighbor, and aaron’s heart swells at how much his son already loves you. his heart nearly bursts in his chest, though, when you loop your arm through his and lean up to whisper in his ear, “maybe later, when you can get a sitter, we can do this again, just you and me,” your siren eyes rendering him nearly comatose, once again.

[ahollowgrave]

@yloiseconeillants asked: Send 🪤 to see them with something they find hard to resist.

One thing about Odette is she's gonna get those Karakul cuddles in. Even if she has a lot of work to do all it takes is one some-what sleepy look and she's settling down to apply affection. And where she is so too are the moths!

Thank you so much for the ask!

][ Screenshot Meme ][

[retrokid616]

marisha's pc

all of imdona shippers right f------ing now!

[heartfulselkie]

I know people mostly follow me for art stuff now, but I do have a couple of fics on AO3 if anyone's interested! My name over on AO3 is Selkie077

Citrus and Lavender (Ongoing, Rated T)

Enemies AU with Chat Noir working with Hawk Moth from the beginning. Even though the "enemies" part is mainly on the Ladynoir side, there's interaction between all sides of the love square as they awkwardly fumble around and try to figure each other out.

Bell The Cat (Ongoing, Rated T)

Fantasy/Knight AU with a dash of enemies to reluctant allies then friends to lovers. Hawk Moth, tyrant of the kingdom, is dead. Slain by his own champion Chat Blanc of all things. But as the renowned Hero of Gallia, Ladybug knows the war against the Akumas is far from over. With a lot of questions remaining, she decides that the first step to getting answers is to save Chat Blanc from death row.

Dream A Little Dream of Me (One Shot, Rated T)

Marinette tries to forget about Chat Blanc as much as possible, but that doesn't stop her from dreaming about him.

Glass Cages (One Shot, Rated T)

Adrien is struggling against the isolation his celebrity status forces on him and the constant expectation of perfection. Luckily he's not alone in this, as Ladybug also knows what it's like to be kept on a pedestal.

Priceless (One Shot, Rated G)

Based on a Tumblr prompt. Upon discovering that Marinette made an expensive (and somewhat secretive) purchase, Adrien has a lot of questions.

Penumbra (Complete, Rated M)

Check tags carefully for this one as it deals with some heavy themes. Adrien is haunted by an experience he can never forget, so he turns to being Chat Noir as much as possible to escape it. As Marinette's relationship deepens with both Adrien and Chat Noir, she starts to realise there's something hidden behind their smiles.

And I'm Still Breathless (Complete, Rated T)

A oneshot written as part of a series for the Littlebug Valentine's Zine.

It was only a couple of kisses and they had been for the photoshoot. But Adrien is a romantic at heart, and when he falls he falls hard.

[asurrogateblog]

I think about this at least once a day

[elliesbelle]

hiii love idk if you’re taking requests but if you are, would you be able to do something elliexreader based off of the song wish you were sober or heather by conan gray <3

while i die

chapter 1

pairing: best friend!ellie x reader

synopsis: only if ellie knew how much you loved her. but she likes someone better.

content warnings: modern au, cursing, angst, unrequited love, no comfort

word count: 4.3k

chapters: 1) while i die, 2) rained on with you, 3) eviscerated

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the heartbreak trilogy spotify playlist

based on the conan gray song "heather"

a lot of y’all have asked for a part 2 to this one-shot, so i made a promise that if y’all get my friend’s band “equal creatures” to 350 followers on spotify, you will get a part 2 ♥︎

You roll over in bed towards your nightstand after a restless night of sleep. The first thing you reach for is your phone, which had been blaring for a while to wake you for work. You hit the seductive “snooze” button, not having any actual intentions to fall back asleep but knowing that you’ll stay lying in bed for two more hours if you’re not reminded to get up every eight minutes a few times. 

Unlocking your phone, you check your messages first. Two texts: one from your best friend Beth and another from your close coworker Lina. As you read their respective messages, you feel a black hole beginning to open up in your stomach. 

She still hasn’t texted me back… 

After responding blandly to your friends, you reluctantly open up Instagram and scan the stories of the people you follow. You ignore all that of your friends and instead tap on the one with the picture of a face you’ve memorized like the back of your hand. When it opens, your stomach lurches and your eyes go glassy. 

The first story was posted the night before and is of a tattooed hand holding a bouquet of flowers with a caption that reads, “her faves.” You notice that the flowers are pink camellias. Her new girlfriend’s favourite flowers. Your favourite flowers. 

The next story was that of two hands woven together with a caption that read, “she loved the flowers” right next to them with several heart emojis. One of the interlaced hands was adorned with several silver rings, one of which you recognized very well. You were the one who picked it out and gifted it to her. 

“Dude, what! This looks fucking amazing!” Ellie cried out. 

In her hands, she held a small, velvet blue box with a silver ribbon falling around it, unwrapped. Inside the box, safely cushioned, was a shiny, silver ring. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” You said, excitedly. “Check this out.” 

You picked the ring up from the box, lifting it up to her eye level. Delicately, you twisted what looked like a tiny hinge on the side to reveal that the ring actually contained multiple bands. The outer, exposed brim was decorated with ornate spirals. The next one had Latin engravings that you vaguely recognized as astronomical terms. The innermost hoops were inscribed with the symbols of the Western zodiac. You twisted the hinge back the other way to once more conceal the inner bands and give it the appearance of a singular ring again. 

“Holy fucking shit!” Ellie cussed loudly, dropping the box to clutch at your hands still holding the ring. “How the fuck?!” 

She snatched the ring out of your fingers, twisting the ring open and closed over and over. You giggled at her childlike enthusiasm. 

“So… You like it?” You asked, chuckling. 

“Fuck, yeah! Of course I love it!” She exclaimed. “It looks like a fucking armillary sphere!” 

“I genuinely have no idea what that is or what that means,” You admitted truthfully. “But as long as it makes you happy—” 

“Dude, of course it does!” She said excitedly. “You are the greatest best friend ever. Oh man, I’m never taking this shit off.” 

Ellie tried it out on several fingers and found that it fit best on her left ring finger. You desperately pushed away any and all implications of the positioning. 

“You really know me so well, man,” She sighed, admiring the ring on her hand. “You didn’t have to get this for me! It’s not even my birthday or anything!” 

You shrugged nonchalantly, even if the intentions behind your generosity were anything but nonchalant. 

“I just saw it and thought that you might like it.” 

“Well, you were wrong because I love it.” 

Ellie gave you a huge grin that ignited a wildfire in your stomach. 

“Oh! It’s made of sterling silver too, none of that cheap shit. So it won’t leave you with those gross, green stains or anything.” 

Ellie looked at you completely dumbfounded. 

“I really don’t know what I did to deserve you in my life.” 

You tap uneasily to view Ellie’s following story. The fingers holding your phone grow cold and begin to tremble as your eyes warily take in the face of Ellie’s new girlfriend. 

She was incredibly beautiful, undeniably so. Her eyes sparkled, mirroring the gentleness of a clear, blue sky on a bright, sunny day. She had the face of an angel, the ones you’d see in Renaissance paintings: pure, gentle, exquisite. The genuine, trustworthy look on her face makes it impossible for any sane person to hate her. 

Some part of you still did. But being desperately in love with your best friend meant you weren’t fully sane in the first place. 

You realize that she’s wearing a familiar sweater: Ellie’s favourite grey, polyester hoodie. You of all people knew how incredibly attached to that sweater she was, almost like it was a safety blanket. You couldn’t blame her; it was soft, warm, comforting. She took better care of it than she usually did the rest of her clothes. And it always smelled like Ellie. 

The caption for this picture was, “someone stole my favourite hoodie.” She’d tagged another Instagram account, sunny-heather, and it took everything in you not to click on it. 

Ellie’s girlfriend posed shyly with a bashful smile, throwing up a peace sign. It appeared as if Ellie had caught her mid-giggle. She had a perfect manicure, straight white teeth, dimples on each side of her face. She looked so sweet, nauseatingly so. 

She looked so beautiful wearing that sweater. 

December had just begun and the weather was finally catching up with the season. After a mostly and uncommonly warm month of November, you hadn’t bothered wrapping up earlier that morning before leaving the house. It was to your detriment when around midday, you were hit with gusts of brisk air that brought goosebumps to your bare, uncovered arms. 

Later that afternoon, you and Ellie visited your local Starbucks for both situational and liquid heat. Ellie had taken pity on your shivering form all day and lent you her hoodie, having already been wearing a warm, long-sleeved shirt underneath. You’d initially declined it, but when your body began to reach hypothermic levels, you quickly pulled it over your head and accepted its polyester warmth. 

As you got in line to order, Ellie was teasing you for your poor choice of winter attire. 

“This is why you check the weather before you leave your house, dummy.” 

“It was 62 degrees over the weekend! I didn’t know it was going to be this cold all of a sudden!” 

“Dude, it’s already the third of December. You should have expected it to get cold as shit at some point.” 

“At some point! But not yet, I’m not ready!” 

Ellie playfully rolled her eyes at your sheer stubbornness as the cashier called you forward. You both ordered large hot chocolates, neither of you a huge fan of coffee. You and Ellie played a brief dance of who was going to pay for your drinks. Ellie eventually and quickly won, as she usually did. You conceded and consented to be the one to leave some cash in the tip jar before you both scooted over to the side towards the pick-up counter. You bickered affectionately back and forth until your drinks were eventually placed in front of you. 

You visited this particular Starbucks regularly, partly because of its convenience in distance to both your apartment and your job. But mostly, it was larger than a usual café and spacious enough for several quiet, peaceful corners for patrons to occupy. Ellie’s and your favourite spot was a table on the loft-like second floor where you could look down at other customers and make up stories or pass off harmless, though sometimes needless, judgment. 

As you carefully sipped your hot chocolate, you and Ellie made your way upstairs to your usual, unoccupied table. You made yourself comfortable, sitting across from her. She rolled up her sleeves instinctively, showing off her arm tattoos, including the one of a moth perched on top of several ferns. Of all her tattoos, that one had always been your favourite. 

“So are you planning on wearing my sweater all day or—?” She inquired. 

“What do you mean ‘your’ sweater? This is mine now.” You proclaimed. 

“Hey!” She protested. “Don’t you dare think of stealing my favourite hoodie!” 

“It’s just so comfy!” You giggled. “And it’s so soft and cozy, and you know how much I love polyester.” 

“Thief.” Ellie chuckled. 

You made a show of burrowing into the hoodie in order to claim your clothed territory. Ellie laughed at your goofiness. 

“See, this sweater was made just for me!” You insisted, returning to a regular position. 

“I mean, I will admit that it does look better on you than it does on me.” 

You blinked. 

“Really?” You asked. 

“For sure, dude,” Ellie insisted. “I just look like some boring, basic white dude when I wear it. But I don’t know, you kind of pull it off.” 

“I pull off a plain, grey sweater?” 

“I don’t know what to tell you, man! You just look cute in it!” 

Your cheeks grew so warm that their heat rivaled that of your hot chocolate. 

Before you could properly respond to Ellie’s casual, off-handed compliment, she spoke up once more. 

“We should really come here more often.” She said. 

“Oh, umm,” You began, still reeling from the moment. “Yeah, we should. We don’t go as often as we did back in high school.” 

“Yeah, we really wasted our allowance on so many shitty, dry cake pops.” Ellie recalled. You laughed at the fond memory. 

“Why the sudden interest though?” You asked curiously. 

“I mean, this used to be our ritual, you know? Getting drinks and just hanging out here for hours.” 

“You know, we do that everywhere else already, El.” You smiled, shaking your head. 

“Okay, true, true,” Ellie relented. “Buuuut, did you happen to see the barista that took our orders earlier?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed before looking down towards the ground floor and scanning the front counter. You weren’t quite sure which one of the several baristas had served you, not having paid much attention when you were putting your orders in. 

“Uhh, I guess? I mean, not really.” You admitted. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?” Ellie playfully scoffed in surprise. “You didn’t see that she was hot as fuck?”  

Your stomach dropped at her words. 

“O-oh.” You murmured. “I guess I didn’t notice.” 

“Come on, dude, you have eyes! She was gorgeous!” 

You gulped as you felt your heart plummet towards the floor. 

“Do you think I should ask for her number?” Ellie questioned, completely oblivious to your shift in demeanour as she tried to sneak a peek at the front counter below. 

“Oh, umm, sure, I guess so.” 

“I mean, I don’t wanna come off as a creep. Plus, she might not even be gay.” 

Your fingertips grew colder and colder with each second that passed, despite the way you were grasping your warm cup tightly. You would have been more worried about your drink exploding in your hand if you were much more present in the moment. 

“What am I talking about, she works here. Of course she’s gay.” Ellie chuckled at her own joke. 

You could barely muster enough of your trembling voice to reply, settling for a seemingly agreeable hum. 

“What do you think, dude?” Ellie asked, finally turning back towards you. 

You feigned a smile, succeeding only in giving her a weak, partial one. 

“Go ahead, El. Why not?” 

Ellie’s last Instagram story was what sent a jagged knife through your heart. 

It was a video this time: she had her arm wrapped around her girlfriend, who was still wearing her hoodie. Both wearing wide smiles, they were both snickering about something for a moment or two. 

Then Ellie planted a kiss on her lips. And again. And again. 

As the video ends with their lovey-dovey giggling, your lips let out an involuntary sob. You press your fists onto your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. Head throbbing and gut nauseated, your body trembles from the waves of anguish crashing down on you. 

You stare at the ceiling and consider staying home from work. Nobody would benefit from being around your zombie-like presence. But feeling pathetic about missing work as a consequence to your broken heart, you chastise yourself for the mere thought of it. 

You spend a few minutes composing yourself, pushing every emotion to the back of your brain as forcefully as you can. It seems to last for a lifetime, but you’re able to eventually soothe your tears and take several deep breaths. 

Forcing your lifeless body out of bed, you begin your pre-work morning routine. The streaks on your cheeks from the unfaithful tears previously falling were scrubbed away when you washed your face. Tremoring fingers prepare your breakfast, which you end up mostly throwing out as a result of a queasy stomach. It feels completely futile to continue your day, but Ellie’s world continues to turn. Why shouldn’t yours? 

You’re at work, spacing out as you’d been doing so often recently. Coworkers continue to ask throughout the day if you’re alright, but you merely smile every time and assure them that you’re just tired. That same smile fades once you turn away, a vacant expression taking its place once more. 

Before you came to work, you made the resolve not to check your phone every twenty minutes to see if your previously unread texts were responded to. But as each hour passes, fighting the urge becomes more of a struggle. 

On your lunch break, you relent and finally check your messages. You only have one unread text from your best friend Beth, checking on you. None from Ellie. 

You begin to chew nervously on your lip before switching to your nails when your friend and coworker Lina finds you. She pulls up a chair to sit next to you before tugging your fingers away from your lips. 

“I thought you stopped biting your nails,” She says, frowning. “You were doing so well.” 

“Sorry, Li-Li,” You reply, gingerly pulling your hand back. “I just—” 

“What happened now?” Lina asks knowingly. 

“Nothing,” You sigh. “That’s literally it. Nothing. She hasn’t texted me or called me or anything. She hasn’t even read my messages or even seen my Instagram stories.” 

“Babe…” Lina says sympathetically. 

Your friends have been lovingly chastising you lately for obsessively checking if Ellie had viewed your Instagram or Snapchat stories. You’d unintentionally trained your eyes to scan through your stories’ viewers to spot Ellie’s picture and username. Whenever you wouldn’t spot a picture of the auburn-haired girl among the list, you’d fight the instinctive urge not to break down every time. 

“You can’t be doing that anymore,” Lina continues. “You’re driving yourself crazy.” 

“What am I supposed to do, Lina?” You ask desperately. “It’s the only thing I get from her nowadays, and it’s barely anything.” 

“Exactly, it’s barely anything,” Lina repeats. “I know you love her, but…” 

“I know, Li-Li.” 

“She’s not even being a good friend right now. You deserve better than that.” 

“I really don’t.” 

“Stop that. Yes, you do.” 

“I just want her, Li.” 

“She’s obviously not good for you, honey.” 

Your phone buzzes from your alarm alerting you that your break has ended. You stand up from your chair. 

“I’ll talk to you later, Li-Li.” 

You hadn’t replied to Ellie all day, ignoring her texts asking if you wanted to come over and hang out. 

Ever since that day when Ellie asked out the girl from the coffee shop, she’d been spending immense amounts of her free time with her. The rest was spent with you, talking about her. Ellie hadn’t been much of a talker ever since you were both kids, but now she was endlessly babbling to you about her new girlfriend. 

You’d learned that her name was Heather Sonnen. She was in her final year of college and was attending a university nearby. She was studying to become a veterinarian and had a golden retriever named Sunny. Her favourite colour is purple. She likes to go hiking and kayaking on the weekends when she’s not working. She was very good at kissing and even better in bed. 

Every little detail you learned about her felt like yet another crack on your already broken heart. You spent many sleepless nights bawling alone in your bed, screaming and crying over a pathetic love you could never do anything about. 

It felt so sick, so pitiful that a girl who would never kiss you or touch you or love you took up every corner of your mind. You knew you could never be pretty enough, never amount to Ellie’s idea of a dream girl. And this new beautiful, angelic girl she’d fallen for continued to prove that. 

You would watch the way Ellie’s eyes lit up any time she spoke about her, the goofy grin on her face every time she said her name. You’d seen Ellie through several other relationships, each one treating your heart like a Hans Moretti box. But this time, her glow was brighter and her smiles were wider. You could tell just how far and how hard she’s fallen. 

As you were laying on your bed, your phone buzzed as you received another text from Ellie. You ignored it and closed your eyes, having no desire to hear more about her perfect saint of a girlfriend. After several more minutes passed, your phone began buzzing in succession. You sighed, waited a few moments, and eventually relented to answer it. 

“Hey, Els,” You greeted her. “Sorry, I was napping just now.” 

“Oh, my bad, dude. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“Have you not seen my messages though? I’ve been texting you all day.” Ellie demanded. 

“Oh, sorry, I just haven’t really been on my phone today.” You lied. 

“Bullshit, man, you’re always on that thing.” 

“It’s the truth, Els, I promise.” You lied once more. 

After a second or two as Ellie considered your words, she responded. 

“Alright, well, I was trying to see if you wanted to hang out today.” 

You stopped yourself from audibly sighing. 

“Sorry, I can’t today. Got a lot of shit to catch up on and take care of.” 

“Come on, dude, blow it off. I haven’t seen you all week.” 

“I really can’t, Els, not today.” 

You heard Ellie exhale in frustration on the other end of the line. 

“What’s been with you lately? We’ve barely hung out this month and you take forever to text or call me back nowadays.” 

You began to chew the inside of your cheek. 

“I’ve just… been going through a lot lately. That’s all.” 

“What, and you can’t tell me about it?” 

“N-not really.” 

“Why not? I thought we’re best friends. And don’t say that Beth is your best friend; I 100% had you first.” 

“We are, we are, but—“ 

“If something’s going on with you, I seriously wanna know.” 

“It’s nothing important or specific. Just been struggling mentally and all. Not been having the best time.” 

A moment or two passed where you held your 1breath, hoping she’d buy yet another lie. 

“Okay. I’m sorry you’re going through that right now. Can I do anything for you?” 

“No, it’s okay.” You replied, sighing in relief. “I’ll be okay.” 

“Alright, well, if you change your mind, just let me know.” 

“I will.” You said, knowing you never would. You couldn’t do that to her. 

“I—“ You began nervously. “I’m really sorry about today, Els.” 

“It’s okay, dude.” 

“Maybe tomorrow, if you—“ 

“Ahh, can’t tomorrow, I have plans with my pretty girl.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Actually, I’ll text Heather in a bit and see if she can hang out right now so we can get a head start on our all-day date tomorrow. I planned out all this romantic ass shit to do.” 

“Ahh.” You replied, voice constrained in pain. Ellie didn’t notice. 

“Oh dude, I didn’t even tell you about this new strap I got for her—“ 

“Hey, Els,” You interrupted, not wishing to hear the rest of her sentence. “I think I hear someone at my door. I’ll call you back in a little bit, okay?” 

“Oh, okay, that’s fine. I’ll be right here.” 

“Right. Bye, Els.” 

“Talk to you soon—“ She was saying as you quickly hung up the phone, unable to further control the sobs that had been threatening to emerge ever since Ellie had said her name. 

You rolled to your side and hugged your legs to your chest, attempting to calm your hyperventilations. There was a ringing in your ears accompanied by Ellie’s words. 

“…my pretty girl.” 

“…planned out all this romantic ass shit…” 

“…this new strap I got for her—“ 

You’d been trying desperately to be a good friend to Ellie for the past month, despite everything. You’d listened and planned and supported, all the things a best friend should do. But the more mesmerized Ellie grew, the more everything within you died. 

You never bothered calling Ellie back that day. 

The drive home from work was mundane and uneventful. An old song sung by Ray Charles about being in love with your best friend plays on the radio. The second bridge is cut off when you turn the key in the ignition and exit your car. 

The steps you take to reach your apartment feel heavy, and it takes everything in you not to collapse where you are. You don’t even bother to take off your shoes when you cross the threshold into the dark entryway. The cushions of your living room couch wheeze sadly as you collapse into them. 

You drop your work bag onto the floor next to you before turning on the TV. Eventually, you choose to put on some basic early 2000s sitcom as easy background noise. It’s something you’ve seen several times before and your mind doesn’t fully process what the plot is or who the characters are or what episode you’re on. 

Your eyes gaze away from the television screen and to a blank space on one of the walls. There’s a spot where the wall’s off-white paint was accidentally streaked off the first week you moved in. Ellie had been helping you hang a picture up, and you were fooling around too much that the ladder you’d been using almost slid down and left a mark. You never bothered covering it up. 

You stare at the mark as if it’d transport you back to that day, back to the mostly carefree moments when pining after your best friend was a mere minor inconvenience. But her love for another and ignorance of your struggle turned that inconvenience into an anguish you were not prepared for. 

That day you fully accepted the feelings you had for Ellie, there was something within that knew instinctively that you could never have her. She was an impossible dream that the universe cruelly created to be untouchable. Deep inside, you knew a long time ago that your plain, boring friendship was just a placeholder for something bigger and more meaningful in her life. And she seems to have finally found that. 

Blinking yourself out of your stupor, you eventually tear your eyes away from the wall. You take your phone out of a pants pocket and open up Instagram. Accepting the feelings of miserable self-pity, you once again scan your stories’ viewers for Ellie’s name. You finally spot it. You let out a sad sigh. 

I guess she at least remembers I exist. 

Orange and purple dance around Ellie’s profile picture before you tap on it. She’d posted a story from a local band she liked and another about a new video game release she was excited about. The last was a selfie of her posing in her bathroom mirror. 

It was an inconsequential picture, just another Ellie thirst trap. She looked handsome in it as she always did. But something catches your eye, and you wish it didn’t. 

On her left ring finger, she was wearing a silver ring. But it wasn’t one you recognized. It wasn’t the silver ring you’d gotten for her. The one she always wore on that finger. 

Maybe the ring accidentally broke. Maybe it got dirty and she has yet to clean it. Maybe she just felt like switching it out for a day. 

Each excuse you come up with seems more and more pathetic. You know there was no point in justifying it, no point in finding reason. You know that Ellie wasn’t overanalyzing it. Not like you are now. 

Your heartbeats are heavy and you suppress the reflex to throw up. You open up your messages and tap on Ellie’s contact, knowing the most rational thing was to simply move on and continue being her friend. But what you find abruptly breaks your heavy heartbeats. 

The text messages you had sent still remained unanswered. But there was a slight change. 

She read my texts… five hours ago… 

Ellie wasn’t always a big texter, always preferring old-school face-to-face interaction. But with you, she had always been the kind of friend to respond right away. Even if just to say she was busy and would respond when she was free, she never left you hanging. 

Your jaw tenses and your vision momentarily becomes blurry. Your bottom lip trembles and you find that you can’t stop hastily bouncing your right knee. Tears form behind your eyes and your cheeks grow feverish, but you’re unable to process or feel anything except the movement in your hands. 

Your shaky fingers lead you to Ellie’s contact in your phone without a second thought. You click “Edit” and delete every piece of information, from her picture to her birthday to her nickname. You save your changes and scroll downwards. You stop sharing your location with her before glancing at those conclusive three words in red right at the bottom. 

Block this caller. 

Without hesitation, you definitively tap the button. 

author's notes:

this was very therapeutic. did this describe something i’ve been going through lately? no why would you think that what gave you that crazy impression ahahaha (shut up no i'm not thinking and pining over my ex, shut up!)

pink camellias because pink camellias represent longing lmaooo, i love symbolism and etc.

the ring reader gave ellie is based on a couple ring i gave to my my ex-girlfriend (the one i live with, not the one i’m in love with)! it’s super cool, i felt like it would be something ellie would wear!

is the part about reader obsessively checking if ellie has viewed their insta stories based on real life? no, why the fuck would you say that

the whole starbucks and hot chocolate thing is a little reference to something in my personal life but i refuse to elaborate further

me once again inserting myself in reader with them always saying they’re tired when someone asks if they’re okay cause news flash, i’m always tired 🙂

reader’s friends’ names beth and lina are inspired by my irl best friend and work bestie’s names :)

ellie’s gf’s last name is purposeful but i again refuse to elaborate further

the ray charles song mentioned is “you don’t know me” but my fave rendition is actually by jann arden from the “my best friend’s wedding” soundtrack (my family’s obsessed with the score of that movie, we had the tape and then the CD of it and played it nonstop growing up)

sorry this took forever to write cause LOL it may have been a little hard cause it was a little TOO autobiographical... hope y'all enjoy anyway lmao

taglist: @elliessknife, @mina-2812, @bellasfavepansexual, @slaysksmska, @theganymedes, @sno-leopards, @cosmikoo, @elliesnumber1gf, @eleactric, @thatgiraffefromtlou, @bellswlw, @kissesforells, @ratdungeon, @elliewilliams8fingers, @wex--12

[glitterghost]

Belle (2023) 🌹

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Oh great it's THIS fuckhead. What the hell does HE want?

#1 I havent taken shit, she WILLINGLY came with me. And probably to get away from YOUR stupid ass.

#2 do you not remember what happened the last time you drew your sword at me?

Slap bitch.

That lil Hmmmmm.

YOU turned him into a ROSE and NOW you're thinking about giving it to belle? Like you weren't thinking about giving her something anyway. Women love flowers.

"Flowers, chocolates,promises you don't intend to keep"

[liamobrienlove]

My favourite moments where Liam looked his cutest/hottest.

---- requested by @samuraiko

[musclesandhammering]

Characters that should’ve been in the Loki show but weren’t (fuck everything):

-Amora

-Lorelei

-Theo Bell

-Sigurd

-Verity Willis

-David Alleyne

-Leah of Hel

-Drrf

-Frosti

-any of the Warriors Three

-any frost giants at all

[bihinnyshipper]

Seamus' face turned quickly from surprise to laughter as what his best friend had just said. Dean chuckled along, starting to jog lightly ahead of him.

"We're gonna be late, Seamus!"

The shorter boy snorted. "Give me a reason to care." He didn't bother picking up his pace. "Just walk with me, will you?"

Dean made a show of rolling his eyes but ran back up the hill to meet his roommate. They kept walking towards the quidditch pitch, hands hanging carelessly at their sides. Seamus blushed as his pale fingers brushed those of his dark-skinned friend. not just a friend, a part of his brain tried to correct him.

But Seamus was jolted back to reality as the duo reached the bottom of the hill and a flash of red hair stepped into Dean's waiting arms. The Irish man had to look away as his roommate's lips met those of his girlfriend.

"I was wondering if you would end up showing."

"I always do." Dean stepped away.

"Just with less time to spare every day." She threw her sweaty hair in a ponytail. "Hey Seamus."

"Hey, Ginny. Good to see you." Seamus sported a weak smile. He liked the youngest Weasley, he really did, but he had a hard time not resenting her when she's got the boy he's sure he loves wrapped around her finger.

"Can we head up?" Once again, Seamus was brought back to his current position by Ginny Weasley's voice.

"Sounds good to me, Seamus you coming?" Dean grabbed his girlfriend's hand, not unnoticed by Seamus.

"Uh, no you go on ahead I'll meet you back in the tower."

Dean and Ginny exchanged a glance. "Are you sure? You're welcome to walk with us."

"Yeah, I've got something I've got to take care of, I just remembered."

"Alright mate," Dean seemed to accept his answer. "See you up there." He turned, slipping his arm around Ginny's waist, and they headed up toward the brightly lit castle.

Seamus walked the other way. He thought he'd sit in the locker rooms for a minute and just collect his thoughts. He had to get a hold of himself.

The sixth year sat down heavily on a bench right outside the pitch, staring off into the darkening sky.

"You okay?" A brighter female voice spoke this time.

Seamus looked up into the concerned eyes of Katie Bell, who's hair was thrown haphazardly into a do similar to Ginny's. "Oh yeah, I'm good. Sorry, just... enjoying the weather." The lie was awkward but Seamus hoped Katie didn't notice.

Clearly, she saw right through him, though he wasn't sure she could read what exactly he was thinking. "Well I was just about to head back up to the common room, d'you want to walk with me?"

"Sure." He stood and they began to walk. After a moment or two of heavy silence, Seamus spoke up again. "Um, Katie. This is awkward but I was wondering if you might want to go with me to the next Hogsmeade weekend."

She looked over at him, studying him for a long time without responding. He shifted.

"No."

He just stared back at her, his cheeks starting to heat.

"You're hot Seamus, sure, and I know I'm hot, but you're not interested in me."

"What? Of course I am! You're beautiful and you have nice tits and..." He trailed off, looking at the ground. "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

"Exactly. I can't be a distraction for you." Katie looked up the hill to where Dean and Ginny had reached the castle. "How long have you liked Thomas?"

Seamus looked up sharply. "What?"

Katie just rolled her eyes. "I don't know you very well, Seamus, but I can tell. You've fallen hard for Dean."

A moment of silence and Seamus sighed heavily. "So what if I have. There's nothing I can do about it."

"I'd say not asking girls out when you know you're gay would be a pretty good start."

"Noted." He glanced up at her.

"And for what it's worth, Dean and Ginny aren't going to last. You'll have your chance with him soon enough."

A foreign glimmer of hope rose in Seamus' chest. "What makes you say that?"

"I've seen Ginny at practice, she's worse off than you, pining for Harry. She'll never be happy with anyone else. That and Dean treats her too much like a lady, that's not the kind of person she needs."

"I wouldn't mind being treated like a lady." A soft grin rose on his face.

"Just give it time."

[asteroids-and-tractorbeams]

How I feel whenever George Mann writes a fight scene where Bell Zettifar does some cool Jedi move

[thqueerestmf]

The last Christmas

➨ 12/24/1898.

The sound of Javier's guitar accompanied the uncoordinated singing of the gang along with the laughter, the plates of food in their hands were being emptied little by little and the glasses with the best liquor they could buy were being refilled (or juice, in the case of little Jack).

Amongst so many good anecdotes from Hosea's youth, censoring the violent parts for the boy in the group, Dutch stood up with his glass in hand, letting go of Molly's warm hand.

— Alright —was the first thing he said. He put one of his hands in his pocket.— I know we don't celebrate this, or that's how it was 'til Jack was born —he pointed to the infant, who was happily eating a roast potato that Charles had been in charge of making, it was something like his specialty.— There I realized that we could have at least one night where nothing bad could happen, a moment of peace and tranquility between all of us ignoring our differences.

Some nodded, agreeing with that and that was strange, because there was always at least one who did not support Van Der Linde's speeches or ideas.

— I admit that it fills my heart to see you all happy and sharing like the family that we are, a family that was actually getting bigger —and a couple of low laughs.— We have had a lot of problems this year, we have lost and gained people, money and opportunities. But next year will be ours, we'll succeed, we'll have what we want and we'll be able to leave this life we ​​have, I have an excellent plan to achieve it and I hope I can count on your support to achieve it.

— You're giving us a lot of content —a voice said next to him, it was Davey.

— Are you gonna give the speech? —Jenny scoffed at him, taking a sip from her glass. Lenny, who had an arm around her, laughed, followed by others, including Micah.

— Oh, how mean —Davey snorted, smiling slyly.

— No, no. They're right —Dutch said, almost supporting the idea.— Come on, Davey, give us a few words.

— Well, if that's what you want —the man smiled, standing up while Dutch sat down again. He cleared his throat and raised his glass.— I have nothing to say. Keep eating and Merry Christmas.

The others applauded with huge laughter, Davey really knew how to make others laugh with so little. The others raised their glasses, toasting another Christmas together.

The last Christmas together.

[socialc1imb]

It’s hard knowing that everything will be okay but not being able to explain why