ethicalvinyls

[ethicalvinyls]

Hope Not Found

I hope I see you in a supermarket one day. Browsing through the pit of bananas, hoping you find a clean yellow bunch, untouched and ripe for you. Pushing away loaves of bread to find the least dented buns. Finding anything clean, the way you like everything–untouched and ripe, ready to be devoured. 

You saw me as your ripe banana, your perfectly rounded loaf of bread, your glossy can of fruit that’ll soon be thrust into the garbage, lid sharp and lazily cut. I’m the trash you once saw as a pearl tucked behind dirty, less prominent items. 

I still think of you, even though you pushed me away into the dark corner of your mind like a dirty sock shoved under your bed. I still look for you in familiar vehicles. I still search for you when I enter the place we had our first date. There are restless nights where I hope you sit and stare at our conversations like I do. I hope you see me in the places you remember me by. 

I hope you see me in the library, glossing over old romance novels, laughing at the sex scenes dozens of ladies probably drooled over. I hope you see me sitting in the grass of an empty park, staring at the fields as though families littered them. I hope you see me personifying the word sonder, defining the lives of those who pass by us. 

The truth is, I so desperately want you to return to me the way you do in my dreams. I want you to read into your dreams that I haunt, scouring the web for a definition only to be disappointed when it says you’re just hung up on me. I want you to listen to melancholic songs and find us in every couple holding hands. I want you to reject every person who attempts to flirt with you because, in your mind, I’m still waiting for your text message. 

But the horrible truth is, I’m no longer yours. I’m no longer clean, ripe, and perfectly rounded for your experienced hands. I’m an old shirt you’ve hung up to dry and plan on donating after you wear it out to one last event. I’m the person you no longer think of when you go out. Instead, I’m the girl you compare your flings to. 

I am just a girl you’ve toyed with. You’ve taken all that I am and shoved me into a porcelain doll of memory and longing.

[ethicalvinyls]

life and death and summer

trigger warning: death

summary: y/n's mom passes away and ellie is there to consolidate her.

wc: 1.4K

You hate the phrase ‘gone but not forgotten.’ When you lose someone, everyone and their mother uses it to try and make you feel better about who you’ve lost. They recall all their memories with your person and laugh while you sit in front of them with bloodshot eyes and sticky tears coating your face. But the truth is, more than half of the people attending your person's funeral will forget about them after a few months–five max. They will gasp and cover their mouth when someone brings it up and say, “Oh shoot, they passed away a year ago!” While you’re still retrieving all that’s lodged in your mind about them: their voice, their clothing, what they ate, what they did on the daily. 

No one here thinks they’ll forget your mother, and it fuels your anger. It’s even worse that you’ve never even seen some of these people. Where did they come from? Who were they friends with? Surely not your mother–you knew who she was friends with because she didn’t have many to begin with. Your dad wasn’t friends with anyone, either. Unless siblings were counted as such. 

Everyone is stuffing their faces with crackers and cheese from the cheese platter. You’re full of so much grief that you didn’t dare touch anything. 

You move out of the room trying to gasp for air. Air that doesn’t consist of old lady perfume, laughter, smiles, or food. However, with each turn you find yourself faced with the same things. So you take the route outside where no one is occupying besides Ellie with a… joint in her hand? 

You brush up beside her and she turns to face you. Her hair is choppy again, meaning she’s recently cut it with her own shears. She’s never liked going to salons or barber shops despite being told there are some people who specialize in whatever she wants. 

“What are you doing out here?” you ask her, your hand slowly maneuvering into hers to steal her joint. 

She easily passes the joint into your fingers and shrugs. “I hate funerals,” she says. 

You nod. “I don’t know why I asked that,” you scoff, feeling stupid. 

She nods. “Joel,” she says. “When he died, a bunch of people came to his funeral bearing food and gifts for me. Especially stupid words like, “You’re in our prayers,” or, “He’s watching over you.” I’ve never been really religious, you know? I think he is watching over me, but not from heaven. From the sky–the clouds, the stars.” 

You nod and take a puff. You cough on this one. The entire day has been pounding its fists into you that the long and quite suffocating puff worked well. It quickly floods into your body and you instantly feel buzzed. 

Ellie takes the joint from your hand and takes an excruciating inhale. She doesn’t choke up like you did, instead beautifully exhaling like the pothead she is. You watch her continue smoking because you’re buzzed enough to not mind the crowd inside. 

“I didn’t mean to not reply to you,” you tell her, remembering the conversation you were having. 

She shakes her head and turns to you, a soft smile gracing her lips. “The silence was the answer. I know how you feel, especially on a day like this. Everyone’s having fun while you’re mourning. And you’re expected to chat, smile, eat, but you can’t even bear talking about anything, much less about your mom.” 

You lean into her more and lay your head on her shoulder. You want to cry, but to cry in front of someone else disturbs you. It’s almost revolting. 

Ellie picks up on this, because she begins caressing your face, whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

You slowly let yourself cry. You cry so much that you have to push away from Ellie and sit on the back door steps. She follows you down and grabs your hand, rubbing circles into your skin. She even goes as far as kissing the front of your hand. You’ve never been loved the way she has done right now, and it’s not strange. It feels as though it was supposed to happen years ago. 

You and Ellie have been friends since you moved into the city. Aka 13 years ago when you were only eight years old. She lived next door and had no friends beside a toy car named ‘Merry.’ And of course her father that found her in a trashcan. He didn’t really find her in a trashcan, but she has told you that since you met, so you obey her story. 

Since you were eight and she was nine, you’ve remained in contact, knowing shifting details about one another. You may have drifted between your teenage years, but you know enough about her to consider her a close friend. 

Ellie has always been nice to you, never fussing or hating on who you surround yourself with, who you’ve dated–which has been not a single person since freshman year; which happens to be when you came out–etc. The summer before your freshman year of college, you and her hung out more than you had in 10 years. You went to her college parties, drank, smoked weed, went out to eat, found hideout spots, and more you can’t recall. It was also the time you began forming feelings for her. Nothing came of it, but you’ve been holding onto that one summer for three years. And her kissing you–not your face, or lips, but your hand–has the blistering sunny days coming back like they were only yesterday. 

However, you don’t want to keep thinking about her lips on the remainder of your skin, so you push away and gulp down more alcohol. She doesn’t stop you, just glances at you every now and then while she sips on a flask she took out of her coat pocket.

By the time half your bottle is empty, you can barely stand. It’s as if someone has taken the world and spun it like a yo-yo. You try grabbing onto the steps, a coat, maybe yourself, but you become frustrated and whine like a child. 

A chuckle alerts you and it’s like you’ve forgotten all about Ellie–which is what you never wanted to happen. You gleam up at her and allow her hands to grab onto your elbows. She slides you up and loops her arm around your waist. She disposes of your bottle and takes you around your home into her backyard. She inherited the small home after Joel passed away–something she is very proud of. 

It’s clean–her backyard. No signs of dogs, or animals, or even plants. It’s clean green grass and you feel like sinking in and lying in it, but she pulls you forward until she’s slamming you into a bed. 

“Jeezusss,” you groan, grabbing Ellie’s coat. She falls beside you and says something you can’t really focus on. You turn your head to face her and watch her mouth as she repeats her words. 

‘You need to sleep,’ she says. 

You nod. “‘Kay,” you answer and shut your eyes. “G’night.” 

And that’s all. Lights out. You say nothing more, think of anything else, dream of anything nor feel anything. You sleep in your alcoholic warmth and don’t even think about the puking you’ll want to do when you wake up. 

That is until you’re awake at… 11 at night, coughing up a lung in Ellie’s toilet. She’s rubbing circles on your back, whispering incoherent words to you. You want to shove her off, but her acts of kindness slowly seep back into your brain. By the time you finish, you fall back onto the cold tile and hug your knees, digging your head between them to shut everything out. The memory of your mother’s funeral works its way into your head just as Ellie does and to see it all happen is gruesome. 

“You alright?” Ellie asks. 

You want to glare at her, but instead you shake your head. 

She snuggles up beside your shaking body, smelling of vomit and alcohol. She kisses your temple and grabs your clean hand. She envelops your fingers with her own and sits with you as you shed more tears than you ever had. 

She doesn’t judge. She doesn’t tell you to calm down when you can barely breathe. Or when your heaving leads to you throwing up. She kisses your cheek and temple every time and goes as far as setting up a bath for you once your stomach and mind have settled. 

Your mouth says thank you but your mind cannot stop replaying the one summer three years ago. The feeling of lust or attraction seeps into your bones and you hope it isn’t friendliness she’s shedding.

[ethicalvinyls]

as a journalism major it’s pretty good for something on air. ur slaying bae

People love to attack Celia for her biphobia but are so quick to forget Harry's racism at the beginning of the book. Both of them learned for the better as the story went on but y'all love to hate on women

[ethicalvinyls]

she won't go away

summary: camilla is a senior with a developed eating disorder she can't push off her. her best friend and crush, Ellie, knows nothing about it. until they skip school and Ellie becomes suspicious.

trigger warning: ED.

word count: 2.3k

I fully expected the clothes on my body to fit like a glove before my first day of senior year. But as I stand in front of the mirror, tugging at the material that won’t pull, I want to scream loud enough to break every glass reflection in the world so I never have to see myself again. This may be extreme, but one would understand if they knew the extremes I went to to lose weight. 

I figured that if I didn’t eat as much as I had and picked up on a running habit, I’d lose the nasty weight I put on junior year. 

“What the hell? That’s impossible,” I groan as I pick at the clothes and pinch my belly. 

“Impossible how good you look?” my mom asks, flooding into the bathroom. 

I immediately rub my hands down my clothes and look at her reflection in the mirror. I try to focus on her as best as I can. “No,” I say. “I don’t. This shirt and these jeans are tight.” 

“Then change out of them,” mom says. 

I like that she can be optimistic, but at the same time it angers me. She’s never been a bigger woman–always skinny and petite with hair that never fails her. I, on the other hand, depend on the way my hair falls on my face or how my clothes sit on my shoulders or stomach or how they hug my waist. She can put on a potato sack and still look flawless. And for that, I don’t always stand by her affirmative words. They may be kind, but they’re tainted. I am her daughter, and for that reason she sees me through a different lens. 

“Mom,” I murmur. 

“What?” 

Can’t you see? I want to ask her. But instead, I say, “They were supposed to fit me.” 

Her eyebrows raise up, silently asking, ‘What do you mean?’ 

“Nevermind,” I say, opting out of the conversation. Maybe if I don’t think about it, I won’t feel the pressure. 

I walk out of the bathroom and into my room. I throw off the top and grab a black shirt from my dresser. Mom follows me in but doesn’t fully enter, she just stands at the door. 

“You shouldn’t feel so insecure, Camila.” 

I hold back my scoff. It’s stupid, though, because I spurt out a smart remark. “Yeah, well I do.” 

“You did lose weight,” she says, “if that’s what you want to hear.” 

I pick a jean skirt and shimmy into it. It slightly sags and I smile at my mom. “Thank you.” 

She continues talking about my health and such but I tune her out. I pull on a thin cardigan, my dirty white sneakers, and my black backpack overly decorated by pins. By the time I’m done, my mom is whistling from the kitchen. I know this because I can hear her scuffling and the whirring of the microwave. 

“Yes!” I shout. 

“Eleanor is here!” 

I roll my eyes at the nickname and peek out the window. She sure is, in her black Jeep. I run down the hall and stop by the kitchen bar. My mom has left me yogurt and fruit. I look up at her and smile. She’s done this every day since I was in first grade. Then, there was more on the plate, but the main dish was the yogurt and fat slices of fruit (besides grapes). 

I pick it up and start for the door, but the soft voice of my mom cuts between my path. 

“You hang out with her a lot, huh?” 

I look at her and laugh. “Yeah, we’re friends,” I say. 

She pulls her lips in and her eyes turn to crescents. The look on her face is one I know all too well–she’s trying to look into me. I may not be lying–well, not really–but my face still warms up and I switch from my right foot to my left. 

I swallow harshly and say, “We’re just friends.” 

She shrugs and picks up her mug of black coffee. She stares over the ceramic, sending a questioning set of eyes my way.

 I take this as a queue to leave. 

I rush to Ellie’s car and hop in, my backpack falling between my legs. It thumps against the floor and a ‘damn’ rushes past her lips. 

“What?” I say. 

“I mean,” she says, rubbing her neck, “it’s barely the first day and your bag is already heavy.” 

“So?” 

“You don’t have to be so prepared.” 

“But I want to be,” I tell her as I pick up an ugly piece of watermelon. 

She lets me enjoy my heavy bag and drives us to school. She picks at my fruit and I let her eat my yogurt with my spoon. We don’t really care about that kind of thing, we’ve been friends since freshman year and she’s never minded. She doesn’t swallow the spoon, either, she just paws at the edge of the spoon. 

By the time we get to the parking lot, it’s ten minutes to the bell. We sit with the engine off for a minute or two and just watch everyone rush in. I don’t really remember much of anything before this summer. If even that. The slight eating disorder has stolen a bit of my memory. 

As if she can read my mind, Ellie asks, “Do you remember freshman year?” 

I shake my head. “No, not besides us meeting. And you know,” I say, looking at her, “the occasional first hang-outs and birthday parties and stuff.” 

She grabs my hand and lifts it to her lips. It shouldn’t catch me by surprise–she does this a lot, the kissing hand stuff–but my heart stutters and I struggle taking a breath.

“Ah, how I miss that.” 

“I know,” I whisper. 

“It was love at first sight,” she says in the same tone. 

What does that mean? I feel the need to ask. She’s staring deep into my eyes and I so desperately want her to be telling the truth but she may well not be. She may be saying this platonically. 

I nod. 

She reaches over the console and kisses my cheek. She lets go of my hand and steps out of the car. I do so as well, dragging my heavy backpack over my shoulders. 

I don’t ask about the comment or the kiss on the cheek. I don’t think it matters why. We’ll be going to college before we know it and most people want to be single then to explore and kiss and fuck who they want. I’m certain she’s all I’ll think about, but I’m not sure I’ll be the one on her mind. 

After fourth period, Ellie rushes up to me before the cafeteria doors and pushes me against a patch of lockers. “Let’s skip,” she says. 

“What?” I ask with a contorted face. “It’s the first day!” 

“So?” 

I look like a puppy the way I frown and shy away from her. “I want–need to show up.” 

Her hands run down my arms and one hooks into my right hand. “Fine,” she whispers, a whine in her tone. “Only for lunch.” 

“Won’t we get in trouble?” 

She sputters like an engine. “No. They don’t care.” 

I raise an eyebrow. 

“C’mon, Mila.” 

I look around and then down at our conjoined hands. “Where?” 

A big smile spreads across her face and she pulls me down the hall. “Somewhere you’ll remember.” 

“Where?” I ask again. 

She turns her head and purses her lips. “Shush and c’mon.” 

“I’m hungry,” I whine. 

“I’ll feed you, don’t worry.” 

She does. On the way to wherever we go, she pulls into a McDonalds and buys a twenty piece and two medium fries. I remember saying I was hungry, but as the food sits in my lap and the greasy smell pours into my nose, I feel ill. I hide it well enough for Ellie to tell, though. She doesn’t know and I want to keep it that way. 

On our way to the location, Ellie jokes about my self control. How I’ve yet to steal fries or begin eating. I laugh but the darkness behind the joke spills out and tries to suffocate me. So I peek my head out the window and let the warm air enter my lungs. 

When we get there, I do remember: a patch of dust and dead grass beside train tracks. It’s after a bunch of business buildings and venues. We found this place when Ellie got her license the summer before junior year. Joel, her adoptive dad, didn’t care where she went, nor how old she was. All he cared about was if she had her license. 

We would come here and eat burgers and fries and milkshakes. That was the year Ellie began smoking weed, and this was the perfect spot to do so. I never smoked, but I’d watch her. 

“I miss when we would sit here and just not say a word,” she says with a joint already in her hand. I want to tell her no, that we have class, but she puts up a good sober act. 

I nod and sit down on the log still lying on the ground from a year ago. I put the food between us and take out my fries. I nibble on one fry while she downs half of them in one go. 

I don’t speak, I let her do all the talking. I’m trying to add up all the calories I’m consuming. I’ve never been the best at math but when it comes to this I’m a fucking expert. 

I think I eat about five fries before Ellie notices. She turns to me while she stubs out her joint and almost hisses. I think about chunking them all in my mouth, but she’s caught me now. 

“You haven’t even had a chicken nugget,” she tells me. She opens the box and pushes it towards me. “I already ate my half.” 

“Oh,” I murmur and nod. “Sorry.” 

She doesn’t acknowledge my apology, but she does acknowledge the biggest elephant in the room. “You’ve lost a lot of weight since summer started,” she says. “Are you okay?” 

I hum. “Of course I am.” 

She sighs and reaches over, grabbing my fries. She places them inside the chicken nugget box and slides them over to her left. She scoots in and grabs my hand, tucking all of my fingers into a fist and caressing my knuckles. 

“You don’t look it,” she murmurs. 

I don’t know if I should take this as a snide or concerned statement. I opt for just shutting up. I know remaining silent doesn’t help my case, but it doesn’t plummet either. I just sit with her thumbs kissing my skin and look at the dirt. 

“I don’t mean this as a rude thing,” she continues. “You just look underfed, not well taken care of. You look whiter than normal and it’s been hot out.” 

I tsk. “Okay,” I moan. “Ellie, I'm more than okay. I just sat inside all summer. You wouldn’t know because you were gone for half the summer.” 

“–And�� here for the other half, so I know something’s been up.” 

I don’t like that she’s trying to crack me open. If I wanted her to know about the eating issue, I would have brought it up. But it’s none of her concern, because it’s not even her body. 

“I am fine,” I say sternly. “You don’t have to worry about me.” 

She shoots up and looks over me, trying to intimidate me. She never has but now, I feel like a rock has slid into my throat and won’t go away. “Why aren’t you eating?” 

“I am!” I say, now almost shouting. 

“No,” she says, violently shaking her head. “You aren’t, and I care about you, Mila. So please” –she kneels on the ground in front of me– “tell me what’s going on.” 

I stare at her, my eyes drilling into her own. Gloss covers the surface and I realize my safety might concern her more than I thought. I shift in my seat and I take her hands. “I haven’t been eating, you’re right. I wanted to lose weight and all the working out and cutting out bad stuff wasn’t working. So I just stopped.” 

She leans forward and kisses me. It’s a small peck, but it feels like a bigger gesture than it is. Her face pulls away from mine but I follow her. I kiss her gently, my nose softly rubbing against hers and our breaths panning against one another’s faces. It’s the only breeze that alerts us that we’re here, and this isn’t some dream.��

I speak first. “I’m sorry,” I say. 

She pulls away and kisses both my palms. “No. Don’t apologize for not telling me. I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me this. I want to help you any way I can. I know it’s not something easy to fix, but I’m willing to sit down and help you.” 

I kiss her cheek. I mumble a thank you in her ear and rest my forehead on her shoulder. 

“So,” she chuckles two seconds later, “what are we going to do about this kiss.” 

I shrug and scoot back. “What do you want to do about this kiss?” 

She chuckles and stands up, pulling me with her. She grabs the leftovers and we race to her Jeep. I slide right in and immediately, we make out. It’s heated, and I don’t know if we should keep on doing it. 

I actually think we should wait. I kindly and slowly pull away, a trail of saliva that once linked us falling onto the fat of our lips. 

Ellie takes this as a sign to get going. She turns on her car and drives back to school, where no one but our teachers care for us.

[ethicalvinyls]

the bread bully

synopsis: ellie has been a bully to YN for a while—since she arrived to jackson. and it’s been killing yn… because she has a crush on ellie. and what’s worse, she’s friends with her friends dina and jesse. on her birthday they throw a small get together for her, but what yn doesn’t know is that ellie is invited too. tension is high.

pt 2 soon ?

________

If I was born 20 years before the apocalypse began, I would have been celebrating my 19th birthday by sneaking into 21+ bars and drinking odd combinations of drinks beside a hot woman. Instead, I am celebrating my 19th by opening my father’s bakery. I’m invited to Dina’s to drink and smoke with her and Jesse, but as I set up the shop, I remind myself of who enjoys hanging around them… 

Ellie has never liked me. I say that despite her recurring presence at the shop every week. In exchange for sweet treats, she slaps a rude comment across my face and waits for my reaction. Said comments never fail to dim my smile, which I assume is what she wants. 

I like Ellie. She’s gorgeous–from her build to her hair and skin; the freckles that dot her face and make her look like the inside of a holiday snowglobe. I’ve had a crush on her since the day she arrived in Jackson. But to confess that, especially now, is like making a terrible joke to a room full of snobby teenagers and waiting for them to laugh in your face. 

When I shut the door to the pretzel rack, the door to the shop swings open. I look to the floor, knowing who it is walking in–Ellie, of course, with her old raggedy Converse and faded black jeans. I turn around and plug the coffee machine in, the smell instantly pouring out. I may not be a rude person, but the least I can do is fill the room with the scent of black coffee. 

“Hey,” Ellie says, her singular word sending a deathly shock through my chest. It felt as though I ate a bag of needles. “Get me a couple of chocolate muffins.” 

I feel my jaw twitch. I hate serving people whose vocabulary lacks please, and thank you, or “Could I get,” instead of “Get me.” Also, what number is a couple? Am I supposed to know that? 

I roll my eyes and reach for my gloves. However, before I slide them on, I pause. “Excuse me?” I say, which would have worked if I responded immediately. Now I just sound stupid. 

“Get me a couple of muffins.” Ellie doesn’t move a muscle or even a stupid brain cell, by the looks of it. She doesn’t catch on to the fact that I won’t get her, however many muffins constitute ‘a couple’ until she asks for them respectfully. 

I drop my gloves and tightly grasp the counter until my knuckles turn white. “I know what you said, I just–” 

“Then why are you acting like you don’t?” Ellie snapped. 

“You are literally just telling me to get you shit without being respectful. It’s like you know I’ll have to give these muffins to you.” 

“You don’t have to,” she answers with a shrug. That stupid, ugly shrug she does when she wants to sound smart. Like she has the entire fucked up world in her hands and she can do as she pleases. “But isn’t that what you do? Serve people? That’s your job–to get me what I need.” 

“Yes, I serve people, but that doesn’t mean you can be a dick. Why don’t you just say please, or thank you or–” 

“YN!” my dad shouts from the kitchen. He steps out with a rag mushed up in his hands. “Stop being rude and give the lady what she wants. Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you can treat everyone how you want.”

I feel like ripping Ellie’s tongue out and slapping her with it. It was my birthday and she had already embarrassed me in front of my own dad. I was over her. 

“Oh shit!” Ellie exclaims. “It is your birthday, huh. That’s why I was invited to Dina’s.” 

I nodded. 

“Happy birthday young one,” she says as if she wasn’t rude to me a second ago. She pauses, steps back a bit, then taps her fingers against the countertop. “Could you still get me a couple of muffins though.” 

I rolled my eyes. “How many is a couple?” 

She scoffs. “Four.” 

I throw on my gloves, pick up her stupid muffins, and wrap them in the cloth she kindly slid onto the counter. I push them back to her and give her a curt smile. “Here ya’ go.” 

“Thanks,” she murmurs, grabbing her muffins and running off. 

It isn’t some kind of secret that I gained weight. Everyone knows, but no one has said  a thing. I guess it’s because it suits me well. I’ve been walking and running and lifting more than my dad, so I eat more. And with that… almost every part of my body has gained a bit of fat. The only issue is, my bra’s no longer fit. They suffocate my skin under my boobs and make them spill over. 

I stare at my body in the mirror and simply give up. My boobs are spilling out and I know my skin will bruise if I keep it on. I opt for a no bra kind of night, and wear two shirts: a spaghetti strap camisole and a long sleeve. I throw on my black jeans and boots and run over to Dina’s without saying a word to my dad. He knows where I’ll be. Plus, we already shared a birthday cake before we closed up shop. 

When I arrive at Dina's, I shove my shaking hands into my pockets. I don’t know if Ellie will be inside, but the thought of her staring into my soul with her ridiculing smile shakes me. 

The brown door swings open and there stands Dina holding a joint. “Come in,” she says with her large smile. 

I nod and step in, the shakiness slowly pooling beneath me. Until I hear the sound of her stupid Converse scuffing the floor followed by her laugh. All of a sudden the shakiness shoots up my body and paralyzes my bones. I stare at Dina as if Ellie didn’t tell me she was invited. I had an ounce of hope that she would decide to stay home–but she loved Jesse and Dina and wouldn’t miss hanging around them. 

“You okay?” Dina asks as her hand slides onto my shoulder. I flinch and my bones snap. 

I nod. “Yeah,” I respond, shaking my body out and taking a step. “Just forgot she’d be here.” 

She sighs and rubs her cool fingers down my shoulder. “Just… don’t acknowledge her.” 

I roll my eyes and walk past her, her hand falling and sweeping past my ass. “As if that’s easy to do.” 

She cackles and follows behind me to the kitchen where Jesse and Ellie are making drinks with homemade cranberry juice. They pick up the glasses without realizing we’re walking up to them. They almost drop them until I slide a hand over Ellie’s hip, gripping onto her and taking the drink from her hand. 

“Be careful,” I mutter and place the glass back on the counter. 

She clears her throat and steps back, her hands awkwardly maneuvering down her waist where she dusts her hips off. “You bumped into me,” she spits. 

“Sorry,” I say and raise my hands in mock defense. 

“Hmph,” she mutters. 

I laugh and take the glass back, sipping it quickly. “You surprised that someone has manners?” 

She wraps her hands around the counter and leans down until she’s staring down my eyes and breasts. “You’re still mad at me for that?” 

I take another sip and raise my eyebrows while the strong taste of liquor seeps down my throat. “No, just pointing it out,” I say, my voice implying another comment is lying on my tongue. 

She lets the silence become murderous before she speaks. A smart tactic, because I want to pull away and rethink all that I’ve said to her despite nothing overly insane snuck out of my mouth. I almost do–pull away and walk out of the room–but she speaks. 

“Why do you not like me?” she asks. She slides her hand across the surface and steals my drink–which was, I’m assuming, hers to begin with. She takes a sip and raises her eyebrows while I laugh absurdly. “What?”

I shake my head and push myself off the counter. I step back and shrug. “You asking that is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day,” I tell her. “Which is crazy considering what you were telling me this morning.” 

She finishes the last of her drink and pushes it into the sink. She hurries to me in long strides and grabs onto me. I turn to look at Jesse and Dina, hoping one of them would look at me and pause the situation, but they’re laughing, fucking one another with their eyes. Ellie slides me back around and I follow her to the back porch. 

The door slams and I’m next: Ellie slams my body on top of hers as she drops onto a chair. I dig my nails into her shoulders and gasp in her face. The natural scent of mint and cranberry wafts back into mine and I swallow down my breath. 

I pat her shoulder where my nails sinked in and push away from her. However, she grasps my biceps and presses me back into place. 

I look at her with small eyes and a frown etched onto my mouth. “I’m trying to get off,” I utter. 

“I know,” she replies. “But just stay. I want to know all about your little resentment towards me.” 

I can’t help but roll my eyes for the fifth time. I look away at the reviving grass and laugh. 

“Why are you laughing?” 

“Because.” I return my focus onto her and my smile fades as she doesn’t have one across her face. “Because you hate me.” 

She scrunches up her face and shakes her head. “What?” she asks–like she doesn’t know what the hell I mean. “No, I don’t.” 

I push off her with enough force to bounce off her lap. I stumble over my boots but hold onto the wood pole behind me. “No, you don't?” I gasp, trying to catch my breath after almost dying. “You come into my shop almost every single day just to make fun of me.” 

“That’s not true.” 

I scoff and shake my head, in such an angering way that it might spin off and knock her unconscious. “How? Are you going to gaslight me into thinking I’m just going crazy? Because I’m not. I might be a little younger than you but that doesn’t make me clueless.” 

“I didn’t say you were,” she mutters. 

I purse my lips and throw my hands in the air. Why try with this girl if it’s going to end in me almost popping a blood vessel. 

“I can’t fucking stand you,” I exclaim and walk back into the house. I walk directly to Jesse who is so happily making drinks in the kitchen. I grab the whiskey bottle and pour it directly into a glass. I’m not much of a whiskey drinker, but why not. 

I take the full glass to the front porch and drink it slowly as I look at the remaining people entering their homes after a long day. Soon enough, the streets will be empty and I’ll be left with the sound of chirping cicadas. 

And slowly, it does happen. I continue sipping on the never-empty whiskey in my glass and listen to the insects rummaging in the shrubs. No one really interrupts me besides Jesse who comes out to fill my glass and ask how I am. I say I’m fine, but he knows I’m not–he senses something happened with Ellie earlier, but he doesn’t ask. He knows I’ll talk about it later. 

As the night gets more lonely and darker, I feel the whiskey warming up my body. At one point my nipples were harder than rocks and I began shivering, but now I feel like a blanket has slid across my entire body. 

I feel nothing. Not even the disappointment from Ellie treating me like trash. But I don’t know why I didn’t expect her to act as if nothing happened when I brought it up. Now I just feel stupid. 

A knock at the door alarms me. I turn around and almost sink into the wooden steps. Ellie stands there with a joint in between her fingers with a box of matches and a drink in her other hand. 

“I’m okay,” I tell her and turn around. “Tell Dina and Jesse that I’m good.” 

“It’s your birthday,” she says. 

“Yeah,” I mumble, “I know.” 

“So why have you been outside for the entirety of this celebration? You do know this is for you, right? It’s not Dina or Jesse’s birthday.” 

“If you’re here to make me feel more like shit, you’ve done your job. Now please, go back inside.” 

“No.” 

“Ellie!” I exclaim, setting my glass down and wobbling up onto my feet. “What the fuck is your deal? Go back inside and leave me alone!” 

She extends her hand, palm up with the joint laying across it. “Peace offering.” 

I shake my head. “You just came out here and told me I ruined the night.” 

“Not what I said.” 

“You essentially did.” 

“Did the exact words come out of my mouth?” 

“Fuck you,” I spit, and bend down to collect my drink. But I guess I’m not as balanced as I thought I was, so I almost slam onto the ground. 

Ellie reaches out for me and grabs my waist, sitting me down alongside her. “Be careful,” she tells me, copying my words from earlier. 

“I don’t like you,” I mutter. 

“Cool,” she replies. She places the joint between her lips and lights it with the already burning match. She sucks in and blows out, the strong smell of weed funneling into my nose. “You wanna hit?” 

I take the joint and suck in as hard as I can. I almost cough out a lung, so I sip on my whiskey. Ellie doesn’t ask if I’m okay, but I have a feeling she cares because she takes the joint from me and grabs her drink. She pushes away my whiskey glass and instantly I drink whatever is in her cup. 

Juice. Homemade apple juice. 

I wrap my hands around her own and sip until there is nothing left. Her laugh overflows my senses after I drink enough to burst my bladder. She takes the empty cup and sets it on the ground, the same hand settling down on my back two seconds later. I feel her fingertips rolling over my spine and I shiver. I know what she’s doing–she wants to sleep with me so she can prove that despite being an asshole, you can still have your way; because she always does, have her way. 

I swivel around and stare at her and the hand that has fallen onto her lap. She runs it down her thigh then digs her nails into her knee. 

“What?” she asks. “Did I do something?” 

I nod and stand up, my balance remaining wobbly. “Yes. I mean, you come out here to talk trash about me, then you let me hit a joint, and you let me drink some of your juice. And it’s all for you to try and seduce me. So you can show everyone in Jackson how much of a spoiled whore you are.” 

Ellie’s eyebrows crinkle and her mouth falls into a frown. She stands up and walks towards me, her hand stretched out in an attempt to make me stand still. I stand still, but not for her. I want to let my words knock her down. 

“I’m not going to be another gay girl in Jackson that gives you what you want,” I tell her. Ellie seems hurt, her shoulders dragging on the ground, her chest heaving like I punched the air out of her. I shouldn’t care because she never does, but I feel like sewing my lips together. “What number am I?” 

“Stop,” Ellie mumbles. “That’s not even it. I’m not trying to seduce you, Y/N. I was trying to be nice .” 

I scoff. “Oh really?” 

She turns around and walks down the steps, kicking down the cup in her path. I don’t have a clue where she’s going, but with the guilt slowly chewing my insides, I follow her. 

I say Ellie’s name. 

She turns around and tries to walk faster, but there is nowhere to go or hide that I wouldn’t know of, so she stalls. “What?” she huffs. 

“I sounded rude,” I tell her. 

“Okay?” 

“I should have tried to word it differently.” 

She turns around with a smile. She dips her hands into her pockets and begins cackling, her hair shaking out of its ponytail. “You were rude, and you never are. It’s cool. Just surprised that you called me out on my shit.” 

I shake my head and head over to her. I stand directly in front of her with only a foot of distance between us. “I like you, Ellie,” I whisper. “But it hurts knowing you mess with other girls in Jackson. And you’re being mean to the one girl that truly likes you.” 

She avoids my gaze, instead shoving her fists deeper into her men’s jeans. I want to shout at her to look at me. How is it that she can throw foolish words at me while staring me down but as soon as I confess to her that it hurts liking her because of this, she can’t even bare her eyes. 

I laugh and take a step back. “You won’t even look at me when I’m talking to you. This means a lot to me–just telling you how I feel! And you won’t even share a fucking glance.” 

I stand there hoping she’s only quiet because she’s forming a coherent apology, but all she does is rock back and forth with a cold look on her face. 

I nod. She’s not going to apologize. She doesn’t even feel bad for what she’s done to me. So I back away and turn around, the alcohol draining from the bottom of my feet. 

— 

I’m sober when I walk back to Dina’s. I pick up my shattered glass outside and throw it into the trash. I pick the glass out of my hands and bandage it up. All in silence. Music streams from some part of the house, but I can only hear my humming. 

Dina and Jesse are somewhere, but I don’t know nor care. I just clean up and leave. 

I’m on my way home when I see a shadow grow behind me. The smell of pine–that isn’t the trees around me–invades my nose and I begin walking faster. 

My name is called a matter of three times before I even acknowledge it. 

“What?!” I shout. “Leave me alone, Ellie. I don’t want to talk to you.” 

Her body speed walks beside me. “Can you just listen?” 

“To your dumbass apology?” I ask. “No.” 

“Y/N,” she pleads. “Just look at me.” 

I scoff. “Why should I? You didn’t do the same for me.” 

“Okay well I’m looking at you right now. And I want you to look at me so I can offer a true apology.” 

I try to walk even faster to my house. Right now I’d rather run into the forest and let the clickers eat me. 

“Y/N!” she exclaims. 

I want to cry. I desperately need to release a tear. 

Ellie shoves herself in front of me and grabs my shoulders. “Please,” she says. “Please just listen.” 

I look into her eyes with a tear plopping onto my cheek. I shake my head and grab her hands, shoving them off me. “Why would I after you’ve spent so long ridiculing me in front of my own family?” I cry. “Fuck off Ellie. I don’t wanna hear it.” 

I push past her and make it to my house three minutes later. I push the door open and as soon as I step one foot inside, I cry my lungs out.

[ethicalvinyls]

i either don’t realize people are talking to me, get so invested in small shit that i don’t pay attention to people, or laugh at dumb shit

i love fics where reader gets high with ellie bc they're cute and shit but in reality i actually go non verbal for multiple hours when high

[ethicalvinyls]

i feel like since so many ppl focus on smut/want smut, the stories not containing sexual content get pushed all the way down. i’ve written some stories w/o smut but when i write dirty stories they get more likes

this may be controversial but i feel like i wish the tag had less smut and more like stories. i know smut is so popular and what most people enjoy and the writers who write them are sooo talented .. i just love plot and miss it so if you see me not writing smut that’s why

[ethicalvinyls]

just be yourself.

playlist: end, be yourself, skyline to, Siegfried, dear April by frank ocean. drew Barrymore and supermodel by SZA. liar, big man, little dignity by Paramore. demi Moore, ICU, you missed my heart by Phoebe bridgers.

synopsis: if you have watched the summer I turned pretty, this is a take on the Conrad and belly argument on the beach ('I THOUGHT YOU KNEW!'). Ellie ghosted yn after something personal happened and she never even said goodbye. yn is now at a party with Ellie there, hugged up with another girl. yn and Ellie's cousin, Finn, spoke for a while after her and Ellie stopped talking... but the love wasn't reciprocated.

warnings: yelling, drunkness.

this story is told using 'I' pronouns, even though this is a yn story.

I was drunk and sitting across the firepit from Ellie. She had a cold beer in her sweater-wrapped hand and was shivering, teeth clattering as she sipped the cheap drink. I thought it was funny–how she settled for cheap beer but never cheap weed. 

I sipped on my oddly flavored tequila-cranberry juice and watched her talk to her friend next to her. She was gorgeous: ginger with freckles dancing across her body behind the fire. People might’ve thought she blended in, with all the red, even the sweater on her body; but I thought she stood out. 

I might’ve been biased, though, because I had been staring at her all night. Before I even started drinking. She sat beside Ellie once I plopped my ass onto the cold steel chair and as I drank more and more, I could feel her body burn into my eyeballs. 

She looked good with Ellie. I could tell they were talking because The Girl had her arm hooked in Ellie’s and she wasn’t moving it. 

A body pushed itself next to me and I straightened myself out. I gripped my cup tighter and looked at them. I didn’t really need to look to know who it is, though, because the cologne overtaking my senses only belonged to Finn. 

“Hey beautiful,” he sayid. 

I nodded. I didn’t usually reply to these things with a blush and awkward stutter, I just answered. I felt bad for doing it, but my emotions did not match those that I had in the pool after Ellie’s graduation party. That night I kissed him because Ellie said she couldn’t date me any longer. And Finn… he hugged me as I cried and carried me into the pool as if to wash me of the pain. He felt safe, it felt as though he could care for me. And I could care for him back. But as time moved forward and Ellie’s smile grew wider, the sore patches beneath her eyes disappeared, and her shoulders no longer slouched like a sad face, I wished for her back. I thought that since she was better, the idea of taking me back would present itself. 

However… Ellie was perfectly fine now and in no visible need for my return. Which, ouch, that hurt. Seasons had passed and the summer glow remained on her skin. 

“You doing okay?” Finn asked as he took my cup and slowly took a sip. His face cringed and he smacked his lips in disgust. “You’re drunk.” 

I nodded. “Sorry. Just a rough night.” 

Finn nodded and watched my hooded eyes move from him to the girl across from the fire pit. I could feel his disappointment slapping my face but I said nothing–because… what was there to say? I knew Finn wasn’t oblivious to my feelings towards Ellie, but I was sure he hoped they’d go away at some point–it had been a while. 

“You’re wasting time,” Finn had finally said after a minute. 

My eyebrows jerked together. “What?” I asked. 

“You’re wasting time trying to get her to want you back,” he continued. “Not just your time, but mine too.” 

I didn’t know what else to do but nod. I just sat and moved my head up and down. My feelings at the time weren’t functioning the way they usually would. I felt bad, but I wouldn’t feel terrible until the next morning. I guess that’s why I would drink more than usual. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I turned to face him and all halted emotions started up again. The realization that Finn had truly been affected by my inability to like him hit me like a bus. I opened my mouth, ready to delve into my apology, but Finn stood up. 

I stood up as well, following not only him and his path across the fire pit, but his–no, my–drink in his hand. I wobbled across the uneven grass and tried hauling him back as he grabbed Ellie’s shoulder. 

“Hey!” Ellie hissed, yanking her shoulder back. “What the fuck? Your nails–” 

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” 

I stayed back an inch and hugged myself as tightly as possible, restricting my air flow. If I died, things would be much better–like not hearing this conversation or seeing how it’d go down. Ellie and Finn were cousins, and if they ever argued, it’d become a tad violent. Not physically, but loudly enough to be considered slapping and punching words. 

Ellie scoffed and looked over at me. I looked off to the side. “Wh–Does this have to do with her?” 

“It depends,” Finn replied. “Did you cut her off when life for you got too hard without a proper explanation or did you keep her around and explain everything to her?” 

Ellie finally let go of the ginger wrapped around her arm like a koala and stood up to face Finn. “Get out of it. That conversation was between me and you, not me, you, and the rest of this party.” 

“Well you should have explained everything to her,” Finn exclaimed, turning to point at me. “YN deserved an explanation, and she still does. Yet you haven’t given her one. If you had done so months ago, she would be the one hugging you, not that ginger.” 

I shoved Finn and he looked down at me, his eyes watery as though he wanted to cry. I looked down again. “Stop being mean.” 

He scoffed. “YN,” he whispered. “She’s being mean.” 

I dug my nails into my skin and looked someplace else–the girl behind Ellie, also in a confused and emotional state. She had never been humiliated in front of a party, I was sure. “She doesn’t know anything,” I replied. 

“You don’t either.” 

“Yeah but it’s different.” 

Finn scoffed again and ran a hand over his wet eyes. Tears stuck to his eyes and he wiped them on this white sweater, staining it. “Ellie could have you right now. You wouldn’t be fucking with me to get over her if she would have just explained.” 

I couldn’t speak properly to save my life. A ball of nerves was lodged in my throat and a nest of wasps was tucked neatly inside of my stomach. If I spoke, or even opened my mouth to speak, it would crash and kill me. 

I swallowed and opened my mouth to speak. Bad decision. I couldn’t say a word, the only sounds coming out of my mouth were broken mewls. I was pathetically crying. 

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and dropped the mascara covered hand against my thighs, digging into any bit of skin I could catch. I tried to move away and never hear of this conversation for the rest of my life, but as I tried to move, Ellie walked over as fast as she could and dragged me back over. She pulled me closer than I stood before, and I looked up at her with my wet cheeks and black-smeared eyes. 

“I just wanted you to explain,” I whispered. 

Ellie’s eyes dropped to the floor and I watched them linger on my arms. Crescents dotted them and she gulped. She didn’t hold onto me anymore, she let me move back. I thought it was due to the fear that she had done that–the nail digging–but then I realized it was the effect her presence had on me. I was anxious of her words, how they would be spat out, who she would direct them towards, if they would kill me, that I had begun the process of killing on my own. 

“Do you love her?” Finn asked, staring so deeply into Ellie’s eyes that she had to blink, the burning setting tears to her eyes. “Not the girl behind you, but the girl in front of you. Because I do,” he continued, “even though I know she doesn’t love me back.” 

“Finn,” I whimpered as I looked at Ellie. She looked back and gulped. 

“Yes,” Ellie muttered. 

I walked back and almost tripped over the firewood running away from Finn and Ellie. I drunkenly wriggled my way through the people inside and once I reached the porch, I darted towards the lake at the end of the road. I ran past cars–although I didn’t know how I was running so fast while alcohol freely swirled in my stomach and the cold air panged my face–and as I got to the cul de sac, I knelt over and heaved. I wasn’t sure at first if it was the kind of heaving that led to vomiting, but I quickly answered my own question as I began sobbing. 

I sobbed and the hot tears stung my frozen cheeks. I held my stomach and sobbed in the middle of the road, where someone’s BMW was parked to my right. Poor BMW, having to hear a broke college student cry broken tears. I covered my mouth to not wake anyone with fragile ears and stood up as quickly as I could. I walked to the bench beside the lake and looked at the water. The sound almost sent me to sleep until the crunching of cold grass interrupted my eyelids. 

I glanced behind me and froze. My neck crunched as I turned back around. “Hey,” I sighed. 

She nodded towards the seat and I shrugged. She slowly walked towards me with her hands in her pockets, but instead of taking the seat to my left, she kneeled in front of me. Her hands slipped out of her jeans and grasped onto mine. 

“You left,” she said. 

I nodded. “Yeah… But you did too…” 

She opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. She simply looked at me and gulped. 

“I wanted an explanation for your disappearance and I got nothing. You left me and I had nothing. I tried to figure it all out–I tried to figure you out, but I gave up. You can be a hard person to read.” 

“I thought you knew,” she whined. 

“No,” I cried. “I have been walking around trying to figure out what happened–If I was to blame, if I just couldn’t support you how you wanted me to. I knew something had happened but I didn’t know what! How would I know?” 

I was shaking now, not from the cold–though it should have been–but from the anger welling up inside of me over the past few months. 

My hands, icy and pale, reached out and grabbed onto Ellie’s face. “How would I know?” I cried to her, repeating myself over and over again. So she could hear me. Hear how badly I wanted to know what shredded her mind. “I loved you. But…” I gasped, my head dropping down and tired of holding itself up. “I loved you so much. I do… love you so much. But how would I have known, Ellie?”

A tear rolled down her face and her body fell forward onto my lap. My hands moved to her neck and hers rolled up onto my back. She sobbed onto me, and the feelings bubbling in my stomach shooted out of my mouth. I cried alongside her and no longer cared about the floating words in the sky–the one’s begging Ellie to eat them and speak them. I should have, but my focus was on the warm feeling washing away the cold in my veins. 

Ellie croaked, her cries washing out just as the cold did. I lifted her head up and cradled her face between my hands. She winced. “When Joel got sick,” she said, sniffling, “I didn’t want anyone to know. I would have done anything to hide that from any and everyone.” 

I sensed her following words. She wasn’t going to tell me from the beginning. And as I sat there and watched those words leave her lips, the anger was wrung out of my body. I felt as though crying alongside her, but my eyes were frozen and all I could do was wrap my arms around her and pull her up onto the bench. I held her against my body and didn’t let go until she gasped for fresh air. 

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” she whispered. “I wanted to speak to you. I wanted to allow you in and tell you about Joel and how close he was to dying. But every time I typed out a text to ask if I could come and talk to you, I shut down and threw my phone across the room. After five times, I stopped trying.” 

I sat still, not saying a word or thinking of any, at that. I was mute and thoughtless, just a body with its mind crawling out of a hole it dug. Ellie had given me the reason I had been searching for. However, I had thought that once she’d given it to me on a plate, all of her factors in the shape of sides, I would ask and ask until she was the mute one–still and brainless. 

Minutes had passed and I hadn’t spoken a word yet. I assumed Ellie gained suspicion as she wrapped an arm around me and dug her fingernails into my side. I picked my head and body up and looked at her, a faulty smile painting my face. “Sorry,” I said. “Just trying to process.” 

“I know this is unforgivable,” she said, her voice congested from the crying. She sniffled. “I should have told you. I should have let you in. If I had known you wanted to know about what had me pushing you away from me, I would have pushed past all of the overthinking.” 

I shook my head and anxiously swept my hair away from my sticky face. “If I wasn’t stuck thinking you hated me or something, I would have fought for just a word with you. I would have knocked your fucking door down. I love you, Ellie, I shouldn’t have been so clueless.” 

Ellie’s cold hand grabbed onto my chin and turned my face towards her. I wanted to shut my eyes, shut her out of my line of vision and just think about the fucking galaxy and my lack of importance in it; but her thumb glided across my wet eyelids and pleaded for their opening. 

“We can’t keep blaming ourselves for this if we want to move past it,” she chuckled, her hand still caressing my face. 

I nodded. With my wet lips and needy demeanor, I slowly moved into her and kissed her softly. I wanted to taste her, in a non-erotic sense. I wanted to taste her sadness and anger, her anxiousness and tears. The kisses turned into pecks and as they passed, our lips met different areas of our faces: cheeks, ear, neck, shoulder. We then hugged tightly and continued kissing one another’s shoulders. 

“I missed you,” she whispered to me, followed by, “I’m sorry.” 

And I said, “I’m sorry too. And I’m sorry… too.” 

And we laughed the pain away until we sounded like hyenas. 

[ethicalvinyls]

𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 (𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖) ₊ ⊹

part I

*ੈ♫‧₊˚ now playing: (𝒚𝒐𝒖) 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒎 - 𝒍𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔

synopsis: fuckgirl rugby!abby x innocent!reader x dealer!ellie ; it’s the start of sophomore year and you’ve just transferred to a new university where you plan to finally live the out and proud college experience you’ve always wanted. but soon you meet two women who are going to change the course of your life forever, who just so happen to have hidden tensions between them- and you discover that you might just be the missing piece that finally brings them together

cw: 18+ ONLY; MDNI, religious trauma, very fem!r, innocent!r, future smut, brief mentions of sa themes + aftermath, men being creepy, heavy alcohol and drug use, light internalized homophobia, kissing, heavy petting, grinding, brief dub-con do to alcohol consumption, trauma flashbacks, hurt/comfort, neurodivergent coded reader, not proofread

an: hi pretties!! this is my very first full fic, I hope you like it. I’ve worked so hard on it and I hope you all love it as much as I do. likes and reblogs are so very appreciated as well as constructive criticism <3 if i’ve missed any cw’s pls pls let me know. also any images i use for my work do not reflect the appearance of the reader in any way shape or form. this fic was inspired by @butterflykissiies ellabs fic which is one of my favs and one of the first tlou fics i’d ever read. so thank you for opening me up to this lovely fandom & inspiring me <3 the dividers i got are from @v6que and @benkeibear :) and lastly my reqs are open and i’m begging for asks bc I love to write and would love inspiration. okay happy reading - sincerely, sugar * ˚ ✦

masterlist

You had finally managed to move all of your boxes intro your new room when the panic began to set in. The daunting scene in front of you, a blank and bare white room in your dorm suite wasn’t helping the overwhelming emotions welling up inside you. This year was a fresh start, and you were determined to make the most of it.

You scanned the area in front of you searching for the box full of your bedroom stuff. But a pink lump of fabric caught your eye. You sighed and pulled the lesbian pride flag you’d bought online out of the box, sadly eying the dusty wrapping and all the awful memories it brought you.

You had purchased it on a late, lonely, night last year. You had just come out to your parents and it had gone horribly- as expected. But the look of disgust on their faces as they called you a sinner was unfortunately seared into your brain forever. So you went straight to Amazon, feeling rebellious and bought the first pride item you could find. By the time it had arrived it was too late. You couldn’t put it up at home and you certainly couldn’t put it up in your dorm at your strict christian college.

But it was different here. People wore pride pins on their tote bags, and the baristas had their pronouns proudly displayed on their aprons. You reminded yourself that the whole reason you transferred was to finally experience being yourself. So you ripped the plastic off and stuck it up above your bed with some pins. You were proudly admiring it when the door to your dorm smacked open.

“What the fu-“ A voice rang from the hallway.

You scrambled off your bed and rushed into the hall, dodging boxes as you flew, “I’m so sorry about the mess!”

A beautiful girl with thick dark hair and tan skin was standing in the entryway, trapped in a maze of all of your stuff.

“Holy shit you must be my new suite mate- Hey, I’m Dina!” she said reaching over awkwardly to shake your hand.

You introduced yourself, apologizing again for the mess.

“Seriously it’s no problem, when I moved in it was pure chaos, thank god my boyfriend was there to help me.” she laughed, and it comforted you. “Is there anyone here to help you, I can leave the door propped open, for your parents or something?”

Your face dropped.

“No they don’t- I don’t really have anyone.”

Dina frowned but she didn’t gaze at you with pity. She just threw her stuff on the ground and rolled up her sleeves.

“Okay, which box should we start with?”

You pointed to the ones containing your bedroom stuff, smiling gratefully. She hauled them into your room and got to work.

As she fought with your mattress topper she glanced up your wall. “Nice flag” she said with a knowing smile.

You smiled shyly, “Thanks.”

With all of your stuff finally unpacked, you and Dina retired to the living room, sitting on the floor with takeout between you on the coffee table, as she told you all about the university.

“Honestly it wasn’t my first choice, but it’s been a year and I couldn’t imagine studying anywhere else.” She continued, dunking her fry in ketchup. “All the clubs are so welcoming, and everyone gets really into the sports, it’s fun! Basketball’s really big here but rugby season just started and the girls team is undefeated so the games are always a whole ordeal…a fun chaos!”

“I’ve never actually been to a big sports game before” you admit.

“WHAT!” Dina looks genuinely shocked which makes you giggle. “How??”

“I don’t know my last school was all girls and they didn’t allow us to play sports” you shrug, “because it’s unladylike”

Dina’s eyebrows almost touch her hairline with shock and you laugh again.

“It’s literally the most important part of the college experience. That and parties.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then you smile at her sheepishly.

Dina sighs dramatically in a playful way, “Right my boyfriend is hosting one tonight with his teammates and you are going. Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming!”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but…sure. I’m excited, and nervous. Oh god…i’ve never drank before!”

Dina drops her head in her hand in defeat and you burst into a fit of giggles.

You’re in Dina’s room, the speaker blasting with hits from female rappers with lewd lyrics that would’ve made your parents faint. You love it.

You touch up your makeup, doing smudgy eyeliner which you never do and lipgloss, also that you’ve never really worn before. You feel…hot? sexy? Confident.

“Fuckkkk you look great,” Dina compliments. “Thank god we’re the same size. No offense, but i’ve seen your closet and none of your clothes are going to work for this particular occasion.”

She dumps a handful of her clothes on the bed. you sift through them, trying to find something your style. Be brave, you tell yourself. New year, new you. You decide on a pink mini skirt, one of your favorite colors but still a brave choice considering your old school had a strict knee length dress code. You borrow Dina’s doc martens as well, at her insistence of it being ‘the pinnacle of queer footwear’ which made you huff out a laugh. Your low cut top makes Dina wolf whistle at you as a joke, and you feel your face warm.

“Won’t I be cold, I think I should bring a cardigan…” you suggest trying to escape to your room but Dina isn’t having it and yanks you back through the door.

“Nope. No cardigans. It’s part of the college experience to go to a party in questionable slutty clothes and freeze your ass off on the drunk walk home.”

You shake your head at her antics and stare down your reflection in the mirror. Be brave.

A knock sounds at the door and Dina whoops in excitement. “Fucking finally.”

“You’re not even wearing a shirt” you yell after her in disbelief.

“it’s just Ellie, she doesn’t give a shit” she calls back.

You look in the mirror one last time nervously before venturing out to meet the girl Dina’s been raving about since lunch: Her best friend and ex who she couldn’t wait for you to meet.

“Dina how are you never ready on time, where the fuck are your clothes?” A voice, who you assume to be Ellie’s, chastised. When you see her, you stop dead in your tracks because god she’s gorgeous. Her short auburn hair was pulled back from her face, highlighting her sharp jawline. She was covered in freckles, and had a killer smile.

“Who’s this?” she says, eyes twinkling and you feel your knees turn to soup. Her voice has a slight twang to it, warm and syrupy and you don’t even know what to do with yourself.

You extend your hand, introducing yourself and she takes your palm in her warm calloused one. She shakes once but doesn’t let go, just slides her thumb over the skin of your hand. You feel like you might combust.

“Ellie, please keep our new friend company. Be nice and don’t scare her away. I need to finish my makeup.” Dina says, pointedly before dashing back into her room.

Ellie winks at you and walks into the living room. You follow, feeling inexplicably drawn to her. She opens her bag and sets down sodas and bottles of alcohol on the table. Then she takes out another smaller bag and sets that down. Out of it she pulls a plastic bag full of green crystal looking nuggets that look like clumps of grass. She pops on into a plastic container and starts to grind her hands together.

“Want a drink? Or do you prefer to smoke first?” she asks with a kind smile.

Your eyes widen when you realize what she’s doing. “Is that…weed?”

Ellie quirks a brow at you, “uh, yeah. is that okay? you don’t have to smoke if you don’t want to.” she says, suddenly serious, placing a hand on your knee.

She smile up at her, “it’s okay, really! maybe another time, I think I want to try alcohol first.”

“You’ve never had a alcohol before?” you shake your head, “okay so definitely no smoking for you tonight, getting cross faded is not the way to go for your first time.” she chuckles darkly, like she’s recalling past memories. Clearly she’s learned from experience.

You feel your face heat and stare at the ground, and Ellie notices because apparently she can just sense all of your emotional shifts. You feel embarrassed. Like a child that needs everything explained to her.

“I’ll make you a drink. Just something to loosen ya up, okay?” You nod, unable to speak when she’s looking at you like that. All reassuring and kind faced. You feel like you’re going to die. She pours vodka and coke into the nearest cup she can find, which just so happens to be a mug with bumblebees and hearts on it you bought at a church charity drive.

“Cute.” Ellie comments and you want to melt into the floor.

You take a sip and your face violently contorts, which makes Ellie let out a hearty laugh. It’s rough and beautiful, just like her.

Dina comes out of her room, makeup flawless, in a tight corset top and well fitting jeans. “What’s so funny?”

“This one’s never had vodka and it’s hilarious.” Ellie explains nudging you in the arm and Dina smiles.

“Are we corrupting you! This is fantastic.” She grins.

“Huh, we are aren’t we,” Ellie says in your ear and you try as hard as possible not to look like it affects you as much as it does. You press your thighs together and keep sipping.

“Smoking?” Ellie asks, and Dina nods. When she finishes rolling, they pass the joint back and forth, laughing as you nervously eye the smoke detector, which is covered in a few layers of fluffy socks.

You realize the alcohol has taken affect when you feel comfortable enough to actually participate in Ellie and Dina’s conversations. They’re easygoing and inviting to you, explaining anecdotes and inside jokes so you’re never left out.

You all finally get ready to leave once the joint is itty bitty and Dina’s on her second drink. She was loud and charming when you met her but the alcohol has made her a vibrant firecracker, a force to be reckoned with.

You notice Ellie start to pack up her belongings and you feel bad that she’ll have to drag it all with her.

“You can leave your stuff in my room if you’d like!”

“Nah it’s alright. my best costumers are always at Jessie’s ragers.”

“Costumers?” Your brow furrows cutely and Ellie is absolutely fucked. She tries to resist it but you’re just too adorable for your own good.

“Yeah costumers. I TA for a few science professors but I also sell on the side. It brings in good money.”

“So you’re like.. a drug dealer?” You whisper.

“Something like that.” She whispers back conspiratorially, taping your chin with her knuckle and winking at you.

Dina’s booming voice breaks the tension: “Lets fucking go!” She yells, slinging her purse on her shoulder and marching out to the stairwell.

“Ready, babe?” She asks

“Mhm.” You’re quick to reply but Ellie senses your nerves.

“You’re gonna be fine,” she says, “I’ll stay with you, won’t let anything happen. It’ll be fun I promise!”

And when you look up into her eyes, you feel your worries melting away.

The party is just what you thought it would be. Multicolored lights illuminate the dark house. There’s people dancing in the living room, drinks flowing in the kitchen, and people talking, smoking, and relaxing on the front lawn and in the backyard. But everywhere you turn there’s people. Intoxicated, loud people. And you’re immediately anxious. But Ellie’s always there, with a reassuring smile and comforting hand on the small of your back as you make your way around the party. She introduces you to her friends, and Dina’s boyfriend- who gives you a brotherly hug and an affectionate clap on the back that sends you reeling into Ellie’s chest.

She laughs it off.

You try not to implode.

Dina and Jessie disappear to go dance and you smile after them, admiring how well they seem to fit together. Ellie grabs you a beer and you both make your way to the backyard.

She gets comfy on the patio bench and pats the spot next to her. “Come sit, I don’t bite.”

You smile and sit down on the cushion beside her, and she props her arm on the back of the chair. You stiffen out of habit. You’ve never been this close to a girl, especially one you like, in public like this. But you find yourself relaxing as you discover that not a single soul seems to care. People smile at Ellie as the party spills out into the backyard, and they smile at you too. She tells you who’s cool and who to stay away from. Which floors of the library are the quiet to study in and which cafes have free wi-fi. As you let her words of wisdom wash over you feel like you finally belong, like a real college student getting the real college experience. You find yourself on your second bottle of beer and the world gets a warm fuzzy haze painted over it. Ellie’s shoulder is soft as you lean on it and you watch her gorgeous hands as she animatedly talks to a guy from her astronomy class. She’s got calluses- from playing an instrument maybe. Scarred knuckles like she knows how to throw a punch. Short nails. That observation makes your stomach tumble into butterflies.

Ellie’s friend leaves, nodding his head at you in goodbye, and she leans her head down to you. Your faces are inches apart, so close you can feel her warm breath on your cheeks.

“Feelin’ good, babe?” she teases, noticing how blissed out you are.

“So good, Ellie.” you tell her, and you see the effect you have on her in real time as she flushes crimson at the sound of her name on your tongue.

She shakes her head and looks away, a poor attempt at composing herself. She turns back, about to ask you something but the words die on her tongue. You watch the warmth leave her face as a sneer replaces her easy going grin. You follow her line of vision to a group of girls who’ve just waltzed out of the house. Every one of them tall, arms and legs teeming with whipcord muscle, visible even beneath their t-shirts and jeans. Leading the pack is a beautiful girl that instantly draws your focus. She has the kind of aura that intimidates but tempts you to her, like a siren. Clearly a natural leader. Her thick blonde hair is pulled back into a long braid and her broad shoulders shake with laughter beneath her letterman jacket as you watch her jovially greet Dina, Jessie and his teammates.

“Who’re they?” You ask Ellie, voice slightly more wobbly than you’d like to admit.

“The rugby team.” She says flatly, she says, her eyes still laser focused on that mountain of a woman.

“Who’s the blonde?”

“The captain. Someone you don't have any business knowing.” She grits out.

“She seems friendly with Dina and Jessie though, is she not your friend too?”

“The fuck does that have to do with anything,” she snaps, and you flinch away from her.

Ellie blinks a few times and shakes her head, like she’s clearing thoughts from her brain. “I’m sorry,” she says, trying to meet your eye, hand rubbing your knee. “Hey, i’m sorry. Didn’t mean to take that tone with you. I just don’t like that girl, and i’d sleep better knowing you’re nowhere near her.”

You feel conflicted. You’re an adult, you can make your own decision on who or who not to spend your time with. But Ellie’s eyes are open, earnest and almost afraid so you nod and she visibly relaxes. Her jaw unclenched and her easy smile is back.

“Do you want to dance? Lets dance.” she says, grabbing your hand, charming as ever, storm cloud over her head finally gone.

“I- yeah, sure.” you say, but she doesn’t hear, already leading you to the living room.

The base of the song pouring out of the speakers is so heavy you can feel it in your teeth, and Ellie looks so gorgeous under the strobing lights. She spins you around and places her hands on your hips and you feel yourself lean into her, full body pressed against her front, almost against your will. She’s turned your brain to liquid. Well her and the alcohol. You’re surprised it isn’t leaking out of your ears at this point.

“This okay?”she asks, sliding her hands down to your hips, pressing you closer as you sway to the song.

You’ve never nodded your head so fast in your life.

A few songs later the beer starts to catch up to you.

“Have to go to the bathroom,” you say in her ear.

“Hold on, I'll go with you.” she offers, but as soon as she says it a hand clasps her on her shoulder.

“Hey Ellie, you selling?” the guy shouts over the music.

“I am yeah, just give me a minute.” she says, her body wrapped around yours.

You disentangle your limbs and smile at her, “Ellie its fine. Go do… whatever it is you need to. I’m a big girl, I can find the bathroom.”

Ellie looks at you skeptically, eyes glancing from you to the guy and back again. You give her a reassuring smile as you weave your way around the thrumming mass of bodies to go find the bathroom. You make your way up the stairs and the music starts to fade. You realize that you may have crossed over from tipsy to plain drunk as you sway through hallway after hallway, opening doors trying to find somewhere you can pee. You hear a flushing sound and a guy stumbles out of a room and you thank god that you can finally relieve yourself.

But he stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, your Jessie’s girlfriend’s friend right ?” he slurs, stalking over to you.

“Yeah, I am and I have to pee so could you just-” you go to enter the bathroom but he blocks the entryway with his long arm.

“Where're you going baby, i’m just tryna talk to you. I'm Daniel, I know Jessie. He didn't tell me you were so pretty.'' He puts his hand on your waist and you instantly feel uncomfortable, like he’s branded you. It's not like it is with Ellie and you want to rip your skin off.

“I just want to use the bathroom, please-” Your head hurts, you feel dizzy and all you want is to go find Ellie. “I dont even like men!” You shout, feeling proud of yourself, admitting it to him and defending yourself, finally being truthful about your identity.

“Why’re you being suck a fucking bitch,” he mutters, his hold tightening on you. Fear grips your heart like a vice. “Just kiss me, you’ll feel better.” he leans down over you and you shove at his chest trying to get away.

“Get the fuck off her!” A voice thunders from down the hall.

You look up. It’s the blonde from the rugby team. And she looks enraged.

He rips his hands off you like you’re on fire, and backs away.

“Shit, Abby I didn't know she was your girl, I'm sorry.” He says.

“She’s not my- that doesn’t fucking matter. She’s obviously uncomfortable.” She seethes. “Apologize to her.”

He scoffs and looks at Abby incredulously, “I'm not-”

Abby walks over, terrifyingly calm, and she towers over him standing at at least 6’4. She grips him by the back of his neck and forces his head in your direction. “Aplogize. Now.”

“Fuck! Okay- I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” He says, his face a mixture of fear and embarrassment. She lets him go and he stalks off down the stairs.

You don’t realize you’d forgotten to breathe throughout that whole horrible interaction, until your lungs finally let air back in.

Abby turns to you, her mask of rage slipping as she sees how shaken you are. “Are you okay?” she asks. Her hand twitching at her side like she wants to reach for you but not sure if she should.

“I- I don't. I need to find-” You splutter trying to get the words out but you can't seem to be able to catch your breath. He’s gone but the fear he instilled in you isn't and your stomach starts to churn thinking about what could've happened if Abby wasn't there.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Abby says, leading you to an empty bedroom and shutting the door, giving you some privacy. She sits on the bed with you, rubbing your back as you try to calm down.

“This is my first time going to a party,” you admit to her, once you’re able to speak again. “And look what happened. I should’ve stayed home.”

Abby frowns and shakes her head, her hand moving from your back to hold your own. “Don't say that. You shouldn't miss out on fun just because of assholes like him.” You smile at her sadly and she squeezes your hand. “Next time you’ll just have to stick with me and we can have fun, just the two of us.”

That makes you laugh. “I don’t even know you!”

“I'd like to change that, if you'll let me.” Abby replies, genuinely, and you bask in the warm glow of her shy smile.

“You're different than I thought you'd be.” you say, without thinking. Abby looks taken aback, but she's grinning.

“How so?”

“Just when you walked in, I thought you'd be this like… big scary brute. Which I guess is still true,” you say, thinking back to just a few moments ago when you thought she was going to pummel that guys face in. “But you're sweet. A gentle giant.”

“Gentle giant, huh?” she says, shaking her head at you. She blushes high on her cheeks and refuses to meet your eye. It's adorable and you find yourself wanting to spend the entire night talking to her.

But.

You're exhausted, physically and emotionally. You're still a bit shaken up from before and you just want to go home.

“As much as I would absolutely love to stay here with you, I’m a bit tired. I think I'm gonna go home.”

“I'll walk you back, I don't want you outside in the dark at this hour. Where's your dorm?”

“Oh god, no don't worry about me! My friend will walk me back. I just need to find her.”

Abby seems to deem this a good solution and nods her head. “I’ll help you look.”

She leads you downstairs and the crowds seem to part like the sea for her. She isn’t even touching you but you still feel some kind of bubble of protection shroud you as you walk. You go into the kitchen, the best spot to scout the area.

“What’s your friend's name? I might know her.” Abby says, leaning down to speak in your ear.

“Um, it’s Ellie. She’s got freckles and-”

“Fuck.” Abby interrupts, and she looks visibly uneasy.

You just don't understand the animosity between the pair and it makes you nervous. You really like Ellie and now that you've gotten to know Abby, you really like her too.

You spot Ellie from across the room and wave. She bolts up from the couch and rushes to meet you in the kitchen. But she tenses when she sees who you're with.

Her jaw clicks as she asses the scene before her. “Abby, what the fuck. She’s not even been here for 24 hours and you’ve already marked her as your next conquest!” She yells.

“Ellie, what-” you say, bewildered.

“It’s not like that.” Abby says back, calm with her hands outstretched like Ellie’s a spooked horse she's trying to calm down. Neither of them hear you speak as they bicker back and forth. You hear the words “fresh meat” and “virgin” thrown around and you see other people staring and it's all too much. They’re fighting because of you! Or over you? Maybe it's not even about you, but everything is overwhelming and loud and you just miss your bed.

The first sniffle grabs Abby’s attention and then your hiccuped sob, grabs Ellie’s.

Ellie calls your name but her voice sounds so far away. She tries to pull you in by the waist to talk to you but you flinch away so hard that you knock a few glasses from the countertop. You know it's just Ellie and not him but all the same feelings come rushing back and you can't stop it. The shattering noise of the cups is deafening in the surrounding silence and you’re so, so embarrassed. You rush out of the kitchen, jostling into people as you run out the front door.

Ellie and Abby are both hot on your heels. You collapse into a heap on the porch steps and put your head in your hands.

But then you feel the warm solid presence of a body siting tentatively next to you. Then another, on your other side. Ellie whispers your name and you lean into her, babbling apologies that you know don't even make sense.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Abby says gently but stern, placing a hand on your knee.

“Oh. Sweet girl, what's the matter.” Ellie asks rubbing your shoulder. “What happened?”

“I think you should take her home.” Abby says over your head to Ellie. Somehow they've been able to put whatever issues they have with each other aside. Putting you- some girl they've only just met- above them. Ellie wipes your tear stained cheeks and Abby murmurs soft things in your ear. You feel so safe, sandwiched between the two of them. Safe and cared for and it causes a fresh wave of tears to well up.

You look up at Abby with wet eyes. “I never thanked you.” You say, and your voice catches.

“Don’t mention it.” she reassures, helping you stand.

When you get back to your dorm you immediately slump into the bed, burying your face in the pillows, wishing you could just forget the entire night happened. You feel Ellie slip off your shoes, and drape your quilt over your body. Then she flicks off your light and turns on your lamps. Ellie’s just about to leave, hand on the door handle when you call her name.

“Please-” You try, voice rough with emotion at the prospect of spending the night afraid and alone, “Please stay, Ellie.”

“Of course.” she says without even thinking.

She chucks her converse in the corner of your room and slides under the covers with you.

“You were gone for a while. Before. When you said you were going to the bathroom. I was…worried about you.” she breathes, sounding nervous. “Which is stupid because I know we've only just met but it's just- I feel… a lot when i'm around you. Did I piss you off or something?”

“No! I like you a lot Ellie.” You whisper. “I was just gonna go to the bathroom and come right back down to find you but there was this guy-” Your voice breaks again and you're so tired of crying. “There was this guy and he wouldn't let me into the bathroom, and he was- he was grabbing me and he wouldn't let me go and-”

You start to tear up again and Ellie feels her heart breaking for you. She's so mad at herself for ignoring her gut and letting you go alone. She effortlessly slides your body on top of hers and holds you close, one arm wrapped around your lower back and the other pressing your head to her neck. You nuzzle your face into the warm space between her jaw and shoulder and you feel content, pressed against her.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I should have-”

“No it's not your fault Ellie. It's alright. Abby was there and she helped me.”

“She did?” Guilt eats at Ellie’s core for a moment. She wishes she hadn’t went off on her in the kitchen.

“Yeah. She was like my knight in shining armor.” you say, wiping your face on your sleeve.

Ellie huffs a laugh at that comparison. “If she’s your knight, what the fuck am I?”

You tilt your head, considering. “My prince charming.” You answer, confidently.

Ellie grins at that and presses her forehead to yours. “Whatver you say, babe.”

You smile and her hand slides down to your check, stroking the soft skin there.

“Ellie?” you whisper.

“Yes, Angel?” Her voice is rougher, lower, and her eyes have darkened and she looks so good beneath you: flushed cheeks covered in a constellation of freckles, with bright eyes, her breathing shallow. Before you can second guess yourself you're kissing her. You've never kissed anyone before and you honestly don't know what you're doing. But whatever you're doing must be right because Ellie presses you closer to her. She swipes her tongue against yours and you whine into her mouth. You’re straddling her, hands fisted in her t-shirt, clinging to her as she abuses your full lower lip with her teeth. You feel an ache begin to spread between your thighs and you can't even focus anymore, like very nerve ending in your body migrated down to you're now very damp core. You grind down against Ellie’s lap and she bucks her hips up at the feeling. “Fuck! Fuck- baby.”

You feel a bit crazed. Like she’s driving you insane with just her lips, “Ellie please!”

“Please what sweet girl?” she says huskily, trying her hardest not to get too aggressive with you. All she wants is to flip your body and press her fingers inside you. Hear you cry, hear you beg for her to make you feel better. See your cute face twist as she makes you come.

“I need- I don't know what I need. I just- fuck” you whine into her chest. She’s suprised and delighted to hear you curse for the first time.

But with that surprise she realizes something. You've never smoked or drank. Tonight was your first party. You've definitely never hooked up with someone, let alone a girl you just met.

“Am I your frist kiss, baby?” she asks.

You jerkily nod your head, still grinding down against her.

“Fuck.” she mutters, throwing her head against the pillow. She slides you off her as gently as she possibly can but she misjudges her strength and you thump gracelessly onto the mattress. “I don't think this is a good idea.” she says shakily.

“You don’t - you don’t like me, like that?” you ask, “you don’t want me?”

“Fuck, NO baby that’s not it. That’s not it at all. I want you. I-” she runs a hand through her hair and takes a deep breath. “You've had a rough night, and I don't want my first time making you feel good to be in this…drunk and vulnerable state.”

You blink up at her with your big wet eyes and she groans. She can't help. She surges forward to kiss you one last time.

“Let's just go to sleep, yeah?” You nod, and feel just how tired you really are at the suggestion of going to bed. “C’mere.” Ellie says, pulling you to her.

You fall asleep like that. Your arms around Ellie’s neck and hers around your waist, fingers stroking the strip of bare skin below your bra and you shiver before dozing off.

That night you dream of freckles and an easy smile…

but also of a long blonde braid and kind eyes.

You decide to stop fighting logic and just let Ellie and Abby pull you into their complicated and tangled web.

Hope you enjoyed this fic! Comment to be added to the tag list for part two if you’d like <3

part II ⇨

[ethicalvinyls]

you and ellie are on a first date after making things official and you guys take edibles and go to the zoo, when you guys get back home you and ellie have sex for the first time and it’s really cute and awkward cause ellie is a loser AH IM BLUSHING😭😭

let me preface this by saying it's not all that. this request has taken me a very long time because 1. I was on vacation with no internet, and 2. I have lost so much motivation to write. so give this some slack. BUT, enjoy!

not proofread!

wc: 5.1K

Dates are not an activity you participate in. It might be because before today, you’ve never been asked out on one. But even with your virginity regarding any romantic aspect, dates seem embarrassing to you. A night full of awkward laughter and jokes you have to laugh at or else you’re deemed a shitty person. You have to seem interested even though you might not be. You might not even like the restaurant you’re sitting at, or the museum you’re sleepily wandering around. And if there’s a price tag on the meal, tickets, or whatever it might be, you have to paw at your purse, pockets, fake jean pockets, even though the person who asked you out is the one who has to pay. 

At least that’s what dates look like in movies and television and across social media.

You try not to let that image dance across your mind when Ellie, your official girlfriend as of last week, asks you out on an official date. These past couple of days have been all about official with you two: holding hands on daily walks, posting one another on social media, sharing creative joints like crosses Ellie has never made for anyone else, and going around town kissing and hugging and being the poster adults for PDA. 

You like to think that because of how you’ve been acting towards one another, this awful idea of dates won’t even exist after the date to the zoo today. How Ellie is with you—soft, overly cheesy, kind, comedic—doesn’t compare to the assholes you’ve seen ditch women in movies, or on Twitter where women have said men have made them split the check. Ellie would never do such a thing—she’d rather die than let you pay for anything while she’s with you. 

You’re getting ready for the date when someone softly knocks on your door—so soft you would miss it if your room wasn’t merely a foot next to the entrance. You only have on the black bralette Ellie bought you and a pair of jeans. You pick up a tank top and rush to the door, your arm shoving itself into the right arm hole. You slightly open the door so only your forehead and eyes can be seen, and peek outside. Ellie stands there, dressed in a black Henley, a washed-out brown bomber jacket, her black jeans, and her insanely beat-up Converse. 

You pull your arm out of the tank top and fully open the door, the bottom half of your face stringed into a defined smile. “Hi,” you say. Ellie doesn’t move instantly as she stares you down. She just smiles as harsh as you are—maybe even harsher—and nods. “You hungry? I have a couple snacks in the pantry if you want something before we go.” 

She shakes her head and walks into the apartment, her eyes still trained on your body. You want to laugh and pull her head into your neck, ruffle her little shag with your recently painted nails, kiss her until her eyes are trained on your face and not your tits. 

“Uh… No. I’m fine. Are you alright?” 

You shake your head and pull her into your room by her pinky. White and pink lights is all that illuminates your room, no buggy yellow overcast that paints an odd look on your face. Ellie says she enjoys how it’s dim and bright at the same time; how euphoric it feels to sit on your bed and watch you paint your face. 

You don’t really talk to one another after that, only sit in melodic silence as you continue setting your face with powder and hurry to apply your lip liner and plum lipstick. When you dust off your face and stand to pick out your clothes, Ellie digs into her bomber jacket, her face contorted into wiggly eyebrows and a poking tongue. 

You stand back and place your hands on your hips, observing her doing. You open your mouth, a breathe hopping into the air before Ellie cuts you off with a… an apple fritter covered in saran wrap. 

You pull a confused face and drop your hands from your hips. “Is that a—“ 

“It’s an edible,” she cuts you off, unwrapping it. “Are you okay with that?” 

You nod as you walk up and sit beside her. You’ve known she’s sold weed in many forms—pens, carts, disposables, buds, whatever the names for them were—since you met her, but she’s never once sold edibles. You’ve known her for less than she’s sold, but you know she’s never once made oil for edibles, nor baked anything a day in her life. 

Air bubbles at your lips and pops, signaling that words are also about to pop out of your mouth. But again, Ellie nicely cuts you off—as though she can read your mind. 

“I made them last night. I kept getting edible-making videos on my feed and decided to give it a go. They’re for our date.” 

The scent of weed coats the air and your nostrils. It takes a second for it to dim down, but once it does you can finally smell the caramelized apple, the brown sugar and overall sweetness of the baked treat. 

You huff a laugh of surprise and lift a finger to your lips. “You baked this?” 

Ellie shrugs. “With the help of Dina, yes.” 

You nod, figuring that Ellie alone is incapable of baking anything as time consuming as apple fritters. Thanks to Dina, of course, this baked good looks and smells absolutely delicious. 

“So… do we eat it now or wait?” You ask, your fingers curiously running across her thighs. 

Ellie chuckles and a light blush coats her freckles. “If you’d like,” she says, then splits the fritter in half. She lifts the piece into the air and looks up at it with second thoughts. “Can you handle half?”

You look at the large half, almost instantly remembering her customers reviews: strong, ‘will hit you really hard,’ ‘I knocked out with one hit.’ Some may have been more exaggerated than others, but the vast majority claimed Ellie’s weed was strong. And if you take the entire half she offers you, you’ll be so high you end up throwing up. 

You shake your head and take the piece from her. You split it in half and give her the bigger piece. “I’ll this, get dressed, and by the time we get to the zoo, I can see if I need more.” 

She nods and slides the bigger piece of apple fritter from your fingers. She pops it into her mouth and chews then swallows. She looks over at you as you lick the residue off her fingers and wink. She shuts her eyes for a second and opens them as if she’s been struck over the head, dizzily reacting to your wink. Her red cheeks brighten as you stand in only your bra and jeans and walk over to your closet, where you unhook your bra and try on different shirts. 

The zoo, in most occasions, is not your cup of tea. When you were a kid you’d much rather sit in the antarctic section of the path and watch the penguins bounce around and jump into their icy water. The smell of waste and excretion was light and the room was typically cold. You enjoyed sitting there and watching them until your parents rounded back the path and picked you up. 

But now as you walk about with Ellie—high as hell, might you add as you took another quarter of the edible before entering—you’re enjoying all aspects of the zoo: the giraffes, gorillas, birds, every single one, and especially the penguins. The cool air that remains trapped in the room smoothes over the skin under your jacket, leaving goosebumps all over your body.

“It’s cold,” Ellie whispers against your neck. Her body is shaking although she has spent every second in this room glued to your side. “You used to love it in here?” 

You chuckle. “I typically came here during the summer,” you tell her, “when most families come. We have decided to come here during the fall—which I’m not complaining about, by the way.” 

“I take no offense,” she happily replies. “But… it makes sense.” 

You wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her up to the window revealing all of the flopping penguins. No one is in this room, they only walk in and glance at the penguins after the cool air strangles them. 

You press your free hand against the glass and a penguin turns its nonexistent neck to watch you guys. It hops down the ice block where the rest of its family lives and waddles to the edge. It flops into the water and sinks down. You laugh as it floats back up and spins. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper against the glass and watch it fog up. “Is the penguin putting on a show for us or is that just in my head?” 

���Mhm-mhm.”

A string of laughter falls out of Ellie’s mouth and it catches up to you, too. Soon enough, you both are in a fit of laughter. Due to the questionable amount of the edible you’ve ate in the past hour and a half along with the dancing penguin, you both are doubling over and slamming your foreheads against the glass. 

You rub your stomach to tend to the growing pain while Ellie holds onto your arm, trying not to fall to the floor. 

“I think we had too much,” Ellie says through heaves. 

“How?” You ask as your laughter simmers and you can finally catch another look at the penguin. It’s back on its rock beside its pals and you wonder if the show happened at all. “You’re not light-weight.” 

“Dina and I used a looot of oil in these things. Like… too much.” 

You place a hand on your lower belly and suck in an intoxicating breath. “Oh God,” you mutter. 

Ellie’s eyes steady—as does her posture—and she places her hands atop your shoulders, smoothing the worry down your arms and through your fingertips. “You okay?” She asks, her face contorting into a doctor-esque look. “Do you want to go now?” 

You look over her, as if you haven’t been staring at every inch of her since you arrived at the zoo. Her black jeans do her ass the biggest, fattest favor, and the tight Henley snuggling her breasts make you want to take its place. When she turns her her head every which way, you stare down her face, as if you haven’t seen her freckles a load of times, or the hair she continues cutting shorter. (This time you hope she keeps it this way. )

“You want to go?” She asks again, and you remember she asked you this in the first place.  

You shake your head and sigh as you realize it was a mistake. You’re slightly dizzy and fucking freezing. “We can leave this exhibit. Let’s move onto the next one.” 

“The ants and insects?” Ellie asks, obviously a joke as she slides her fingers onto your torso and tickles your you.

You squirm and slap her hands off. “No! Hell no! I mean the giraffes.” 

Ellie kisses your cheek and runs her mouth along your ear. “Okay,” she whispers, and you have to tighten your hands into fists to keep them from running up her damn Henley. 

Your hands are wrapped around a cheeseburger and you’re leaned against Ellie’s old gray truck. You sit outside your apartment and watch as people get in and out of their apartments and cars. 

“Do you ever wonder what people are leaving?” You ask. Your question is stuck in a blob of the same question and you try your best to word it correctly. 

You look over at Ellie as her brows wriggle on her forehead. “Whaddyamean?” She asks, her mouth full. Usually you’d stand up and run away after watching your date talk with their mouth full, but you must be in serious love because you find it cute as hell. 

“Like…” you breathe. “When people walk out of their houses, or whatever, I wonder where they’re going. Who are they going to meet? What are they going to do? Or when I’m driving—or you are—and you stare out the window and just look at these drivers faces; do you not wonder where they’re going? If they have a family they’re coming home to. If they’re struggling in some part of their life but they’re happy nonetheless.” 

“Sonder,” she says. 

“Hm?” 

“Sonder,” she repeats, now looking at you. She’s completely entranced. “I’ve heard that’s what it is.” 

“Is it weird that I wonder that?” You ask her. 

She shakes her head as if that’s a stupid question to ask. “No. I think it’s interesting to always have those questions. To always want to know.” 

You nod even though you yourself think it’s strange. No one has ever been on her side on this matter. You explain yourself well to those you tell—past partners, flings, friends—but no one has attempted to understand. 

“Seriously” you ask, much quieter, less thrilled to hear her truth. 

Ellie sets down her burger and the faintest chuckle rips through her. “You think I’m a liar?” She questions. 

You shrug and lower your burger to your thighs. The wrapper between your fingers is greasy, it almost feels as though its mimicking the sweat coating your forehead. Anxiety is biting your skin off; Ellie knowing about what most run from cannot be thrilling. 

“I don’t think you’re a liar.” You pick up your drink and take a sip, soothing the lump of food lodged between your words. “I just don’t know if you’re telling the truth.” 

She laughs this time and takes your drink from your hands. “That, my love, is quite literally the definition of a liar.” 

“Is it?” You ask, sounding smaller and smaller the more you talk. You feel like it, too. 

Ellie places the drink beside you as she walks around your shaking body. She steals the burger from your hand as well and carefully dumps it into the take-out bag. You stare at her through all of her motions, especially as she looms over you, her body wriggling over yours and ready to grab your hands. But as she does—grab them—she pulls back. You both laugh, you more than her, causing a scarlet tone to spread across her dotted cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you chuckle. “It just feels so…” 

She violently nods. “Yeah.” 

“Anyways”—you shake your head and scramble all of the past few seconds into an amnesiac memory— “tell me what you were going to say.” 

She does so as well, and instead settles her hands on your knees. “You are not strange, or crazy, or creepy. You just have a creative mind and a desperate need to know about people. You may not go up to them and flat-out ask what they’re feeling, or if they have kids and a partner and what-not, but you think about it, and you hope they’re okay.” She stares into your eyes now and you stare back. Typically you silently beg for the other to fall tired of staring, but this time you take it in like a warm blanket.

This moment causes you to realize Ellie is different than who you’ve spent time sharing deep secrets with. As she hazily drinks you in and smoothes her thumbs over your knees, softer than anyone has ever handled you, you see how different she is. How different she feels when you think of her. How your body doesn’t empty itself of warmth when you think of your potential 'futures' together. 

Ellie feels safe. She is safe. And she loves how you think of every passerby with the same care as you do with friends and family. 

You wipe your greasy—and sweaty—hands on your jeans and push her rustled hair behind her left ear. Your thumb glides past her earlobe and ghosts over her jaw. 

Ellie leans herself onto your hand, takes her own, and touches every single one of your fingers. She sounds like a horse as she whinnies and rubs her face against your palm. 

She continues turning until her lips meet your fingers. She kisses your fingers and slowly opens her mouth, air striking your skin and casting goosebumps along it. Her tongue darts out and licks the pad of your index. You shiver. 

You fight to keep your eyes on her but break as Ellie chuckles. A rumbling sounds in the pit of your stomach and instantly, you know you’re in trouble. You look down at your lap and try to cross your legs, but everything down there is far too uncomfortable to do so. 

“You okay?” Ellie whispers. 

You nod. “Yeah,” you say through nervous laughter. “I just don’t want anyone to catch you falling into your urges, you know?” 

“I don’t care,” she whines. “I want to.” 

It feels as though a fly catches in your throat. You can barely breathe at how she sounds—whiny, desperate, in need to kiss you… and not just on your thumb. You want to let her do it all to you right now as she stares hungrily into you, her chest rising and her lips puckering. But…to kiss her and deeply taste her when anyone could be peeking through their curtain or getting off as they watch through their car window… You would much rather not. 

“I want to, too, El,” you reply. The rest of your sentence tugs at your tongue but you bite down on it. 

“But..?” 

“But if you want to then I think we should go inside.” 

Ellie grabs your face and smashes her lips against yours. She kisses you hard and fast, her teeth closing down on your bottom lip. Her hands wander from your face to your shoulders to your lower back. She sneaks her fingers under your shirt and grasps your skin. 

Your mouth parts and a humiliating groan slips out. You shut your mouth by biting down on her lip—as she had done to yours. 

Ellie digs her nails into your skin and soon enough, you’re full-on making out—teeth silently clashing, mouths sucking on lips and tongues fighting one another for a kind of flavor only insanely horny folk’ can taste. 

“Okay,” Ellie hums against your mouth. “Let’s…” She runs out of breath and you pull away. “Let’s go inside?” 

You bite down on your swollen lip and nod. “Mhm-hm,” you answer with a shaken brain and a pulsing center. 

Ellie grabs your to-go bags and drinks and slips her hand into yours as she leads you up to your apartment. You slide your key in shake it around, unlocking the door that somehow feels difficult to open. Maybe it’s because you want to fall inside and fuck Ellie’s brains out for the first time already, or you simply forgot how to open doors. 

You finally get to open the door and as if you’re on a mission, you pull Ellie inside with enough force to pull her arm out of her socket, and slam the door shut. Poor neighbors you have, but they’ll understand. They see Ellie come by almost everyday, and each time they see her, they raise their eyebrows and cross their fingers, as if to say ‘Today is the day,’ but it never is. 

However, tonight… might be the night. 

You open your door with your hand desperate to hold hers. You tug her into your room and as if anyone else lives with you, you shut the door. You drop your bag and kick off your shoes. All you can hear is your short and rapid breaths. 

“You want to?” Ellie asks after you’ve done kicked your shoes off and have slid out of your jacket. 

You look up as your fingers tug at your shirt. Her shoes are off and her jacket is dangling off her pointer finger. You feverishly nod. “Yes,” you spit out. “Yes, I do. I really do. Only if you want to.” 

Ellie drops her jacket and hastily makes her way to you. She grips your shirt where you hold it and pulls it up your body. “Up,” she whispers, “please.” 

You like it—her attempt at being rough. You say attempt because after she roughly pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it onto the floor, she smoothes your hair down and tenderly kisses you. 

You’re left in your black bralette and jeans. Ellie looks down at your body from where you stand centimeters apart (it feels like such). Her breath spreads across your breasts and your nipples harden. You tip your head back and stare at the ceiling as the feeling of Ellie’s fingers appear at the button of your pants. 

“Can I take these off?” She asks. 

You nod. “Please,” you say, your voice groggy. 

She quickly undoes the button and pulls down your zipper. She slides the denim down your legs and kisses your thighs as she does so. You watch her as she does this—how her body slides down, her ass looking great in her jeans, her body almost arching at the taste of your skin. 

She aids your legs out of the holes and pushes the jeans away. She stands up again and feels the ridges of your body: the slight jump from your plump thighs to your hips, the stretch marks sliding across your tummy, the groove of your belly button. 

Ellie takes her time feeling your body, smelling your skin, dotting hickeys along your hips and space between your underwear and belly button. She groans as she reaches your breasts. Her face appears in front of you as though she wasn’t just at your tits, and she kisses your cheek, her hands palming your breasts through your bra. 

You release a strangled moan. You nod and nod, pushing her forward. 

She leans down to kiss your tits while her hands work on pushing your bra strap down. You can’t bear standing as she does this to you, so you push her back until her knees hit your bed. You push her down and smile at her as she pushes herself up on her elbows. 

“Oh god,” she mutters as she looks at you. “You’re beautiful.” 

You blush. “Shut up.” 

She shakes her head and swallows, the sound pinging in your ears. “No. C’mere. Please.” 

You nod and hop up onto the bed. You straddle her waist and rest your hands on the hem of her shirt. You tilt your head to the side and move your body around atop her. You whimper and she curses beneath her breath. “Why are you still dressed?” 

Her mouth opens and you laugh. 

“C’mon,” you murmur. You paw at her shirt and begin pulling it up her body. She sits up and lets you take it off. You leave it on the bed and quickly get back at her body—toned and ready for you. Your fingers roam along the band of her bra and find their way under. You cup her tits and run your thumb across her hard nipple. “Does this feel good?” 

She chokes out a “Yes,” and rolls her head back. Her hips buck and you continue. You pinch her hardened buds and watch her bite down on her lip and curse louder than you’ve ever heard before. She’s blushing all over, her cheeks fiery red, causing her freckles to hide behind the ferocity. Her chest has become splotchy, and not from any hickeys you’ve imagined giving her. She’s blushing and hot, too—physically hot. Warm to the touch. 

"You okay?" You stop to question. 

She nods. "Nervous. Horny." Her words and wobbly but flopping out of her mouth in big waves. "Both?" 

You chuckle and with the back of your hands, you push her bra up over her sore tits. She blushes harder and you lean down to kiss her lips. "Stop," you hum between pecks. "You’re okay. It’s just me." 

"That’s exactly why!" She groans and tilts her head to the side, her eyes rolling as you run your fingers down her body and maneuver your mouth to her tits. Thankfully, Ellie isn’t some masc lesbian who thinks salivating on and over her breasts is atrocious. Currently she’s moaning and humming your name, begging you to keep going. 

"I want more," you say, popping your lips off her nipple. 

"Wh-what, like… You want me to take my—" 

"Take your pants off, yes. And those boxers of yours if you’d like, too." 

She swallows and nods. "Yeah. Of course. Just erm… Scoot back a bit." 

You pull your legs over hers and  unbutton and unzip her pants. You pull them down and as she did to you, you take her feet out and lay her pants to the side. 

Now she’s bare. Almost. 

You sweep a hand over her thighs and close to her center. A thumb accidentally glides over her clothed clit and she jerks. "God, please," Ellie whines. She slaps her hand over yours and grasps it tightly. “Just…” Her mouth trembles, lips widening and shutting as if she’s either going to cry or… cream her pants. “Skip the extra foreplay. I need you on me.” 

You nod and plant a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh. You jump up and pull down your panties. You toss the boring boy shorts onto the flowing pile of clothes and start to crawl onto the bed. 

Ellie watches you with wide eyes. Her breath is snug in her throat and her knuckles are white from how tight she’s holding the bed sheets. 

You sit beside her—your ass on your heels—and grip her side. From there, you trail down to her navy boxers with a wet spot right on her center. You smirk but send your tongue to fight the inside of your cheek to prevent it from spreading across your face. 

Ellie sits up as best as she can and tears off her boxers. She sends them flying somewhere in the room and you both chuckle at the sound it makes. Your mouth drops in a certain wonderstruck you have yet to experience. She’s shaven, only leaving one dark strip. 

You nod, ready. You grip her hips and nudge open her thighs. You look into her eyes and move your hands up onto her shoulders. She braces hers on your waist and pulls you up onto her thigh. You lower yourself down onto her and feel the heat of her skin on your pussy. You groan and bite down on your lip. 

You look at Ellie as she situates herself beneath you and ask, “Is this okay for you?” 

She nods. She rolls her hips against you and you drop your head, your mind already foggy the more she rolls and circles them. You follow her lead, both awkwardly trying to figure out what feels best and how to continue doing that. 

Quickly, though, Ellie catches onto the specific way she rolls her hips, pelvic bone slamming into you perfectly. You push a hand down onto Ellie’s clit and circle your fingers around the pulsing bud. She jolts but the movements spur her on. She moves faster and the chord in your lower belly is being pulled taut. 

You groans and gasps in the air coming from the both of you leave behind the embarrassment of the first few seconds of heat action. You dig your nails into her hips and take the lead as Ellie slows down. 

This… this leaves Ellie gasping and fucking quaking. You roll onto her and slither a hand onto her nipple. You roll her hardened bud between your thumb and index and she arches her back. She digs her hands into the mattress and lets out an ear-shattering moan. You lean down and kiss her breasts. You grasp and lick them, and this drives her crazy. 

“Touch me,” she says. 

“I am, babe,” you pant. 

She grabs your hand and leads it down to her center. She trails your fingers down her slit and groans at the contact of your hot fingers on her clit. You lift your hips in order for her to follow you down right where— “I want you inside me.” 

You blush. The redness—not of the heat tinting your skin—chars your cheeks and you skip a breath. “In—inside of you?” 

She nods. “Please,” she whines. 

You nod and slide a finger inside of her. She’s wet, so easy to slide another in. And you pump your fingers in and out of her, sliding your palm against her clit. You look down at the mess on your hand, then at Ellie’s sex hair and sex face and how red her tits are. 

Your core is throbbing. How you are as of now—knuckles deep inside of Ellie, fucking her out of her mind—has you coming yourself. The sound of your fingers against her wet pussy along with how hot she looks writhing beneath you has the chord in your belly ripping. 

You gasp at first. You cry out her name and soon enough, Ellie is coming. She shakes and slaps her hand over your wrist. “Keep going,” she begs you. “Keepgoingkeepgoing—“ 

You do so. And the more you go, the more her legs shake. She presses herself against your palm and soon enough, she comes again. This time, she slowly pulls your hand away with her thighs tight against you fingers. She whines when she fully pulls you away. 

She takes that hand and pushes it onto your lips. “Open,” she says, and you do. She slips her fingers into your mouth and you suck her cum off your fingers. “Good. That’s my girl.” 

You roll your eyes and pop your mouth off your fingers. “Don’t say that or I’ll sit on your face to shut you up. 

She tilts her head with wide eyes and looks up at you. “Is that a threat? Because I surely wouldn’t mind that.” 

You push her into the mattress and straddle her waist with sore thighs. You kiss her mouth and suck on every inch of her mouth. “I wouldn’t mind either.” 

“Then c’mon,” she says, slapping your ass. “Get on and ride my face darling.” 

[ethicalvinyls]

have reached the point where i hate writing smut…?

[ethicalvinyls]

sorry y’all for the ONE request taking so long i’m out of the country

[ethicalvinyls]

send me sappy, soft yet kinda spicy ellie williams one-shots or series!!!! need them asap.

[ethicalvinyls]

jealous freaks at the bar

I was thinking about jealous Ellie today while I was in the car daydreaming so here is this. nothing special or long or anything, just a blurb.

800 words. 

reader envisioned is thick... I know Ellie loves her thick women. THIS IS NOT BIASED.  

Ellie hates people like this: The guys chuckling from across the room as they ogle your body, and the masculine lesbian doing the exact same –except she isn’t chuckling nor beside the men, she’s at the nearest table to your right. It doesn’t really make a difference where the girl is located, but at least she isn’t beside the cackling men.

Ellie does nothing about it, but you know she’s fuming on the inside. She can be a tad jealous, especially if there is a woman staring you down. With men she doesn’t have to tell them off, she just slides her hand down to your ass and firmly grasps it, following it with a kiss on your cheek. This drives them all away. However, Ellie can get a tad more territorial when it comes to gay women. It’s as if she actually has to compete with them (even though she doesn’t).

You sip on your drink as you watch them. None of them are appealing, especially the men because first of all, you’re gay as hell, and two, they have the skinniest of jeans on and you can almost make out the shape of their– You almost choke on your drink. Thirdly, the woman doesn’t appeal to you either because she’s dressed like Ellen DeGeneres.

You hear Ellie sigh and you turn to look at her, eyes softening as you drink her in instead. Her sigh wasn’t much of a tired one, it was more so an aggravated, burning string of air leaving her nostrils. She begins drinking her beer with such force that the glass almost shatters in her hands.

You lean down to reach her at eye level and ask, “What’s the matter?”

She places her beer down and looks over at you–elbows digging into the bar counter and her hands damn near shaking. How she’s become so angry is beyond you. You should probably take her anger a bit more seriously but you can’t. She looks fucking sexy.

“You know what’s wrong,” she whispers loud enough for you to hear.

You hum and look out at the people still staring at you. You lean into her ear, replying to her desperate need of reassurance. “Well they’re not the ones being fucked by me tonight, are they?”

Ellie scoffs. “How am I so sure?” she asks, although you know it isn’t out of distrust. She trusts you more than anyone she knows, but she wants you to fall into her trap. And albeit knowing about it, you do it anyway.

You push yourself off the bar counter and swivel around, grabbing her flannel and pulling her towards you. She rolls her eyes as you drag her deeper into the bar dance floor. You turn her around and place your hands on her shoulders. Then you sweep them over the curve of her neck and up to her face. Your thumbs glide over her lips and you almost want to shove them inside, letting her suck on them to cure her fucking horniness. However, you let her kiss the pads of your thumbs instead.

“You have nothing to worry about, baby,” you tell her.

Ellie rolls her eyes.

You pull her in and kiss her lips. It’s a peck at first, harmless to you but painful to the burning eyes. You continue pecking until Ellie grabs your ass as if it’s floating right off. You gasp and she kisses you harder. You squeeze her biceps and open your eyes in the direction of the gawkers.

The woman acts disgusted–as if she’s never openly kissed a woman in public before, and the men walk off with disappointment. It’s as if they thought Ellie was only your friend. Your best friend, as most oblivious folk call lesbian couples.

You hum into her mouth and quickly pull off. You look at her mouth for a moment–coated in your plum lipstick combination–and chuckle. Then you say, “They’re gone.”

She pulls away with a smile. “I knew the second you kissed me first,” she says seductively, like she might eat your face off (if she hasn’t already).

You hum and laugh as she shrugs her shoulders in a nonchalant manner. “So then why did you keep kissing me? I thought you were doing it to get rid of them?”

She wraps her hands around your waist then smooths them over your back. “I can’t just make out with my girlfriend?”

You chuckle. “You can! I just know you want something else.”

She shrugs and pulls you closer in. Her hand now wanders higher up your back to your tendrils of hair. She slightly tugs and kisses on your exposed neck. “I wouldn’t mind that fucking you were talking about.”

You try to act like you aren’t soaking your panties right now, but it’s hard when your sexy ass girlfriend is openly treating you like this.

“I wouldn’t mind either.”

“Here, or home?”

You smack her arm and she pulls away. “What?” she exclaims.

“Here?” you repeat, almost stunned. Almost.

“What about it?”

“You’re down?” you ask with a smirk.

She nods violently. “If you’ll be quiet?”

You hum. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you assure Ellie.

[ethicalvinyls]

nobody compares to you

chapter 5

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, slight slut-shaming, brief mention of death, minors do not interact

word count: 2.3k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six

Present Day 

Though you didn’t exactly enjoy Mondays, it was at least the one day of the week when you got to wake up naturally instead of at the crack of dawn. Your first class wasn’t until noon, so when you woke up at 9:30 in the morning, you decided to get your day started early. 

You weren’t always the type of person to completely do themselves up just to go to class. Maybe in freshman year for the first few weeks, but you were a seasoned vet now. Most of the time, some leggings and a simple shirt or sweater sufficed. But after such a shitty weekend, you figured you could at least make yourself feel good by looking good. 

After half an hour of getting ready, you looked yourself over in the bathroom mirror. You were fairly satisfied with your appearance. Despite the cold breezes of Saturday night, the forecast called for a rare warm day. As a result, you allowed yourself a floral sundress, decorated with a puffy knitted, button-up jacket on top of it in case the season’s true weather decided to show. A pair of simple white sneakers finished your outfit; not the most stylish, but practically, you still had to walk around campus. 

Your lips shone slightly from the bit of lip gloss you’d applied. You’d only applied some light mascara on today (you figured that your Literature and Sexuality class did not warrant your bold, false eyelashes). You’d lightly painted your eyes with colours that complemented those of your sundress, blending them seamlessly onto your eyelids. As you did this, that one memory that was prodding you two days ago became clearer. 

“I have no idea how you do that so naturally, dude.” Ellie’d said, watching you in awe from the foot of your bed. 

Her ocean-green eyes watched the meticulous strokes of your makeup brush applying eyeshadow to your lids. It was early on in your “friendship” and it was still a couple more weeks of her calling you “dude” before you became “babe” and “baby.” 

“It’s not that hard, honestly. Just takes some practice.” You’d said, trying to keep your hand steady as you grew nervous under Ellie’s watchful gaze. 

“Nah, it’s natural talent. You’re an artist.” She’d replied. 

You’d scoffed, saying, “Ellie, all I’m doing is my makeup. You’re the actual artist, remember?” 

“No,” She’d shaken her head. “I just draw. You’re the artist here.” She’d said decidedly, eyes full of admiration as she continued to stare. 

You’d blushed furiously then, and you would continuously do so when you’d replay that memory the months following after. 

But it was two years later and now, the memory instead had you staring at your reflection tight-lipped and frowning. 

Why is she still everywhere? 

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It was roughly a fifteen to twenty-minute walk from your apartment to the university. You lived in an off-campus apartment complex that was in a decent location from both the school and a downtown area nearby. It was less convenient than living on campus like several of your friends still did, and this certainly wasn’t what you’d had in mind when you were planning out your social college experience. But after the freshman year events of Rafael’s death and Ellie’s abandonment, you were far more comfortable where you were. 

You liked walking anyway. You found solace in the strolls you took, accompanied only by your thoughts and headphones. 

About five minutes into your trek to campus, you pulled out your phone to text your friend Tara. 

hey you’re working rn right? 

do you maybe wannaaa get a mocha frappe for me ready in about 5 mins? 

i will leave a very generous tip :) 

A couple of minutes later, you were just officially entering the campus when Tara texted you back. 

sure dude

but uhhh

did you read the gc yesterday?? you might wanna do that before you get here…

You continued walking as you frowned down at your phone. Dina had spent most of the previous day at your place, cheering you up and taking your mind off Ellie. Your group chat with your other friends was blowing up and by the end of the night when Dina had left, you were overwhelmed by the amount of unread texts you had. The group chat remained unopened until right now. 

The chat consisted of your friends Tara, Sidney, Astrid, Rebecca, Kristen, and Mina. You’d met them all in freshman year. Tara was your assigned roommate and Astrid was Dina’s. They were all initially casual friends, ones that you saw on a usual basis and got along well with, but they weren’t necessarily very close. You were better friends with the gang from Jackson. But after you came back to campus for sophomore year, you detached yourself slightly from Dina and Jesse, knowing full well that Ellie had them first. They both tried to remain closer to you, but they remained inseparable from their childhood best friend, not fully knowing what events led to what “broke up” you two. It wasn’t the same and it was a much different dynamic with this other friend group, but the girls were there for you all the same. 

Reluctantly, you clicked on the group chat named “Wilson Crew ❤️‍🔥” (Wilson Valley had been the name of the freshman dorm building most of you had resided in the first year). Scrolling up to where you’d left off, you scanned the messages your friends had left the previous day. Your eyes grew wider and wider the more you read. 

The previous day, Tara, who worked at a campus coffee shop called Ruston Coffee, was tasked to train a new girl. To her, your other friends’, and now your shock, the new girl Tara was training was Freshman Girl. The same Freshman Girl who stayed glued to Ellie’s side for most of Saturday night. The same Freshman Girl who drooled over Ellie’s every word and move. The same Freshman Girl that mistook your Ellie’s signature lavender-laced joints as lilac. The same Freshman Girl who wore Ellie’s old motorcycle jacket the entire night. 

It turned out Freshman Girl did have a name: Daniela. Your friends had sent messages with different levels of shock and horror. Kristen called her a whore, to which Sidney agreed, to which Astrid reprimanded and told them both to be nice. Mina sent memes as a response. Tara also texted that Daniela would be working with her again today. 

You looked up. Ruston Coffee was just down the way. You didn’t have to go in. You could skip coffee for today and hide out in the library instead. 

“I’m not expecting you and Ellie to magically make up. I won’t try to get into the middle of it because I know that’s between you two. But you definitely need to figure out this out, babe. This doesn’t seem like something that should remain unresolved.” Dina’d said. “But don’t also let it affect all the other parts of your life, okay? She shouldn’t be stopping you from hanging out with me and Jess more often or going out to parties we’re at or anything that involves Ellie in some way. Don’t let her stop you from enjoying your life.” 

And Ellie certainly shouldn’t stop you from getting coffee. If you wanted to get a coffee and relax before class, Ellie should not be getting in the way of that. 

You took a deep breath and marched towards the coffee shop, fingers gripping tightly onto the straps of your backpack and feet stomping in rhythm to good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo blasting loudly through your headphones. 

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A bell above the door tinkled as you entered Ruston Coffee. The shop was a little busy, most seats taken up by other students sitting with their laptops or biding time before class. There was a line of people by the register and you began to approach it until you heard your name being called. 

Your friend Tara was waving you over by the counter where orders were usually dropped off. In one of her hands was a straw and your ready-made mocha frappe. 

“You’re the literal best, Tara.” You sighed, pulling your headphones off and walking up to her. 

She handed you your coffee order. 

“No problem.” She said, smiling. “You know that I don’t mind.”

“Thank you for indulging in my caffeine addiction,” You said, whipping out your phone and sending her $6. 

Tara frowned and said, “You better not have given me a $3 tip this time.” 

You sipped from your straw. 

“Dude!” Tara said, laughing. 

“$2 tip!” You said, defensively. 

“Just for a $4 coffee.” Tara said, shaking her head. 

You shrugged. 

“So uh,” Tara began, her voice lowered slightly. “Did you see what I said in the group chat yesterday? Cause you weren’t responding.” 

You gulped. 

“Uhh. Yeah, I did, just now. Sorry, Dina was at my place yesterday, so I was busy—” 

“Nah nah, it’s cool, man. But like. You saw what I said about that girl, right?” 

“Is she here?” You asked, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“Not yet. But,” Tara checked her watch. “She’s supposed to be here in less than five minutes or so.” 

Fuck. 

“Oh, okay.” You said, your heart rate increasing. 

“Are you okay, dude?” Tara asked. 

“No, yeah, I’m fine.” You lied. “How did training her yesterday go?” 

Tara crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. 

“Literally the worst. She kept on looking at her phone instead of listening, she left one AirPod in her ear the whole time, she kept asking when we were gonna be done. And now I have to go through it all again once she gets here.” 

You gave Tara a sympathetic look. 

“I hate that,” You said, sucking on your teeth. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, not hire her?” 

“We’re short-staffed as fuck, so we don’t have much of a choice.” Tara sighed. 

One of Tara’s co-workers came up behind her and attempted to elbow her ribs, to which she dodged. 

“Get back to work, Maclay.” He said, putting down two cups of coffee next to her before heading back towards the register. 

“Fuck off, Khanh!” She said, shooting a middle finger to his back. 

“Should I let you get back to work?” You asked. 

“Nah,” Tara said. “I wanna shit talk this Daniela girl first before I have to deal with her this morning.” 

“Do you know how often she’s gonna be working with you?” You asked. 

“I’m not sure yet, but if Bonnie thinks she’s gonna stick me with a lazy new girl this early in the year—” 

You heard the bell above the door tinkle as someone entered the coffee shop. Both you and Tara looked instinctively at the new arrival. Tara groaned silently and your throat went dry. 

Freshman Girl Daniela walked in. Wearing Ellie’s jacket once again. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Crap, I gotta go now, I guess.” Tara said begrudgingly. 

“Y-yeah…” You said, unable to take your eyes off of that same jacket that used to often adorn your shoulders back in your freshman year. You hated that it looked good on Daniela. 

“I’ll see you later, dude.” Tara said, wrenching her elbows off the counter and walking towards the register. 

“Good luck.” You replied. 

You weren’t exactly subtle with your stare, but thankfully Daniela didn’t seem to notice. It was a little different seeing her now in the daytime. She was very pretty, you had to admit to yourself. She had a short, pixie cut that complemented her sharp bone structure. She wore a bright yellow tank top below Ellie’s jacket that clung onto her lean figure, making her stand out slightly. She had light makeup on that looked simple and natural. 

Daniela wasn’t Ellie’s first conquest since you ended things with her. She didn’t waste much time dating around after you all came back for your sophomore year. You’d avoided her as much as possible, so you didn’t have to come face-to-face with the girls she’d get involved with. You still heard about them, of course, and you were sure there were even more than the ones you’d known about. 

But Daniela was the first you were forced to encounter. You weren’t prepared to be thrust right into Ellie’s love life once more. But here you were, staring at the most recent fling of the girl who you were once so desperately in love with. 

As Daniela lazily made her way through the shop towards the back, you eventually tore your eyes off of her and headed straight for the exit. 

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🎶 Maybe she’ll come through / If he waits some more 

But she doesn’t / No, she doesn’t 🎶 

You were leaning against one of the trees in the quad, backpack laid next to you and headphones back on your ears. Your next class was in the building right behind you, but you still had a while until it started. 

🎶 It’s not like the movies / Like you dream it’ll be 

Sometimes you lose your soulmates / And sometimes they leave 🎶 

Your journal and pen were laid out on your lap but abandoned as your fingers picked at the grass around you. Your mostly-empty coffee cup sat next to you, condensation dripping into the soil. Your eyes were glazed over, watching the clouds in the sky. 

🎶 She’s not a girl you forget / She’ll run through your head 

With all of the moments / You loved but now dread 

To remember / Burning like— 

Your hands and voice reacted quicker than your mind did. Your sudden movements caused your headphones to fall onto your neck. After a second, you realized that you had shrieked and that your hands had flown up to your face to catch something. As you had brought the object down to look at it, you realized it was a football. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” 

You looked up to see a tall girl in a dark t-shirt and grey sweatpants jogging towards you, a dirty blonde braid bouncing behind her. 

“Abby?”

author's notes:

sorry for the delay in uploading this! i'm back from my brief vacation, and after i settled in after getting home, i almost immediately plopped down in front of my laptop to finalize this ldksfjsdlkds

not very chockful of ellie in this chapter, i know, i'm sorry! y'all got plenty last chapter! but don't worry, more will be coming up soon. i just enjoy keeping y'all in suspense.

i just wanna mention that most (if not all) of the names that i use in this fic are picked out people in the games themselves. also tara's last name is maclay as an homage to my lesbian queen tara maclay from buffy the vampire slayer. she's not the same character obvi, but i just enjoy putting in the reference :)

freshman girl aka daniela may have been named after and based on some whore girl that my ex left me for and that i'm still bitter about it oops

i hope y'all enjoyed the surprise guest appearance at the end of this chapter! she will be integrated further into the story from this point on, so stayed tuned :)

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @chrissyfishywissy, @yevheniiaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnoviecita, @oatmilkchaii, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky

please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist or if you'd asked previously and i missed you!

[ethicalvinyls]

I know you

summary: Ellie and yn stopped being friends their senior year. they went their separate ways and yn became desperate for her to return. she had already patched herself up and was ready for it. I guess she manifested it, because... 

no warnings. 

this is shit. I cried five times during this. it’s based on something personal (my ex-best friend who I desperately miss. shush. I'm still hurt.) 

word count: 1.2k

The party happening around you is supposed to lift your woeful mood. You are supposed to be drinking, smoking, dancing on tables and what-not. Your ‘friend,’ Sydnee, is supposed to kiss your cheek and whisper sweet nothings into your ear to motivate you to partake in such activities. And she is, but you aren’t motivated.

It has been months since you left New York and you’ve yet to see any sight of Ellie. You know she’s here in Virginia, but she has squirmed her way into a unique hiding spot where it is impossible to find her. You attend colleges nearby one another, and you’re certain she’s heard about this party as nothing happens in your close college towns, but you can’t find her.

This is a sign that you should give up. You can’t find her because she doesn’t want to be found. But you were best friends and you slept with one another more times than you could count. She was there for you when your dad fled the country; she was there when you were severely depressed and couldn’t get out of bed, and she was there when you lashed out on her for ‘not doing enough.’ She had tried to comfort you at first, but when you bashed in her arms, she realized she had enough. And since then–that questionably cold night in May–she left. She served you her reasons, and she told you to let her be.

You’ve tried to reach out to her. You left her millions of messages and she left you on read. You dropped by her house and left notes for her. But nothing.

You thought you would hear from her by the time you moved into college, but she didn’t say a word. She went to her college and you went to yours, and that was it. Albeit missing her, you stopped messaging her. You just held onto the hope that one day she would drop by to see you.

You chug the random drink in your hand, sipping on what tastes like pineapple and too much tequila. Your throat almost rejects the alcohol, so you tip your cup over and pour the mixture onto the grass. No more drinking for you. It stings your chest and brain and the aftermath is a disaster.

You throw the cup into a nearby trash bin and sit on the ledge below you. It overlooks a large field, possibly for soccer games as there’s two goal posts shoved into a bench. You pick out a cigarette shoved into your bra and the neon pink lighter in your pocket.

You flick the lighter on and shove the flame onto the tip of your cigarette. You suck in a deep breath and keep the smoke trapped in your mouth, then throat and chest until it bangs on your front teeth. You exhale and the cloud of smoke drifts into the stuffy air.

You continue smoking your old cigarette and looking out onto the field. Some people lay on the grass, drinking out of red cups and smoking on joints and cigarettes. Some smile, some laugh, others kiss or makeout. You wish you were one of them, because they all seem to be enjoying the night. Whereas you are miserably smoking and people-watching.

You could have been like them if you hadn’t mistreated Ellie. She was trying to be there the way she knew. Ellie hadn’t always been open to emotion. Her mind wasn’t able to process the wide range of emotions you had. You were a passionate person, and you enjoyed feeling every emotion that rushed through you. And Ellie loved that because she wasn’t able to be that way. You had wanted her to be more open; you tried to softly push her into the open world of feeling. But she wasn’ budging.

And the more you tried, the more she grew frustrated. She couldn’t be the person you wanted. She would try to feel what you felt, tend to the bruises dancing on your skin, cure them and kiss them the best she could, but somehow, that wasn’t enough for you.

But it most certainly was once she was gone.

Your cigarette is on its last puff so you snuff it out and throw it over the ledge.

You’re about to reach for another when Sydnee taps your shoulder and kisses your cheek. You know it’s her because her fingers are always ice cold and her kisses are always wet. You no longer fall into her, so you just ask, “Yes? Is there something wrong?”

She shakes her head and whispers, “A friend is here looking for you. Ellie?”

Your posture immediately straightens out and you turn your head to her. “Williams?” you ask, making sure the Ellie she is referring to is your Ellie.

She shrugs. “I dunno. Just said she’s Ellie.”

You nod and stand up, dusting yourself off to appear put together. You know you smell of cigarettes but then again the entire house smells of smoke and liquor.

Sydnee backs away and enters the house. Ellie stands across from you, a flannel hugging her body perfectly. Her hands are stuffed in her pockets and she’s rocking on the balls of her feet, obviously struck with nervousness.

You clear your throat and say, “Hey.”

She nods. “Hey.”

“How are you?” you ask, even though by the looks of it, she’s amazing. She looks like she’s gotten full nights of sleep and has not lost a single tear.

She shrugs and starts walking towards you. You think she might sit down on the ledge, so you sit down ahead of her. You look up as she takes a seat and wait for her to verbally respond.

“I’m doing okay,” she says.

You turn to her and tilt your head to the side, studying her perfect face and freckles you missed more than anything. When you look at her more, you can tell that she’s just covered up her eyebags and small pimples.

“Just okay?” you whisper. The more you look at her, you also realize that there must be a reason she’s wriggled out of her hiding spot. “You’re not okay, are you?” She shakes her head. You lean over and rest your head on her shoulder. You kiss her shoulder softly and shift your fingers over a few centimeters.

“I missed you. I’m sorry I left without giving you a chance to hear you out.”

You shake your head and wrap your fingers around hers. “I understand. No matter how badly I wanted you to speak to me, I understand.”

“I’m coming back,” she whispers.

You nod and kiss her once more.

“Just promise me you’ll give me a second to adjust, okay? Don’t rush me into openly expressing every single emotion. I will work on it as long as you give me the space.”

You violently nod and sit up on your knees. You turn her around and wrap your arms around her neck. You kiss the side of her head and whisper, “I promise,” into her ear. “I am beyond sorry, El. I was a shitty person and you never deserved that. I will be better. For you. For us. Okay?”

She chuckles and whispers back, “I believe you. And a request… if that’s okay.”

You pull away and look down at her. “Yes. What is it?”

“Get rid of Sydnee. She’s not for you.”

You nod. “Yes, okay.”

She chuckles and brings you back into the hug, almost suffocating you.

[ethicalvinyls]

Loving Juniper

story synopsis: Loving Juniper is the story of Miami and Juniper falling in love and growing up with one another. After Juniper Lauder moves to Galena, Illinois from Rhinebeck, New York in the fall of 1998, she meets Miami Mejia, who instantly becomes her best friend.

wc: 2k

this story is on wattpad. where chapters will be primarily posted.

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟖 •• Chapter 1

My mom hates me. It is four in the afternoon and she is yelling at me as if my windows aren't open and we don't have neighbors. Well, the neighbors wouldn't even be able to hear us as we have a backyard the size of Alaska and they've been living in Galena since the town was founded. But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that she is yelling at me with enough hatred in her chest to kill off the Grinch.

"Why are you so mad?" I ask her as I pick up my scattered boots and slip them onto my feet.

"Juniper!" she exclaims. "You were supposed to clean your room this morning! That is the one task I gave you: Make your room feel like home."

I roll my eyes behind her back and pick up my hoodie from the ball of clothes begging to be shoved into my new Ikea dressers. And I roll my eyes again at how white and pristine everything in my room is.

We–no, my parents–decided it would be a good idea to start fresh before moving to Galena. And when I say fresh, I do not mean 'clean all of our belongings and spray the new house with holy water.' I mean fresh in the 'sell all of your furniture and spend a fortune on new furniture to replenish all of the 'harmful' memories stuck on our old shit' way. So, most of what inhabits our new home on the hill doesn't feel anything like home; it just feels like I walked into an open house.

I stand up as my mom is still demanding I clean my room and turn to see her eyeballs nearly popping out of her skull. I realize I have to leave, and fast, but I'm still fourteen and if I just leave, she'll lock all of the doors and windows and let me sleep on our porch. So I sigh and say, "It's just been hard... adjusting," because it isn't 100% false.

I had no attachment to Rhinebeck. I lived in New York State, not New York City. There were no blinding lights and ear-shattering commotion gluing my feet to the dirty pavement. Nor was there any person begging me to stay. I had no friends except for my parents and my pet chihuahua who died last spring. So... all there was holding me down to Rhinebeck was my room and its outdated furniture.

My mom sighs as well and places her hand on my shoulder. I place my hand atop hers, as if to comfort her, but all I'm really trying to do is pull her off me so I can walk through our personal forest in the backyard.

"I understand this is hard for you," she tells me, her once exploding eyes now sunken into her sockets and turning into a light shade of gray. "But I promise this town will do you some good. It's a fresh new start! You can make some friends and then we'll finally have more people to talk to."

I nod. I should just shut up and walk out into the patch of trees, but I want to suck out all of my moms reasonings for moving us out here before I do so. So I ask, "Why couldn't we have moved to New York City instead of Illinois? Like, I don't even know how to pronounce Illinois. Is the 'S' silent or not?"

She laughs and drags her hand off me. "Are you really mad that we moved here because you don't know how to pronounce Illinois? And yes, the 'S' is silent."

"No, that's not why, but it's good to know now. I just think that it would have been better for me to spend the last five years of my education in the city. It is an entirely different universe in New York City and it's only two hours away from Rhinebeck."

"It's too crowded in the city, you know that."

I scoff. I shouldn't hold as much attitude as I do because my mom is giving me her reasons. But somehow, they aren't enough.

"It's only the three of us, mom."

My mom looks around at my messy room before walking towards my door. She stares at my outfit: a wrinkled long sleeve under my wrinkled jean overalls and my pair of rusty boots. She disapproves, I know it, but she remains silent on the matter. Instead, she says, "I have a good feeling you'll do great here, so stop fighting me on it. Now go do whatever the hell you were going to do to get out of this mess. But you better be back in your room by six, or else you'll have to sleep on the porch."

"Yes ma'am," I say, saluting her and quickly marching out of my room. I run down the stairs, grab my satchel off the last step, and make my way to the forest.

Galena is beautiful during the fall. The town stays true to the climate of the season: never exceeding 60 degrees nor falling below 27. The slight breeze that flows through the bright muddy trees strikes my body, nibbling on my skin to give me a taste of the winter. And I welcome it all because the scenery in which I am walking through is too beautiful for me not to.

The floor beneath me is damp. I can slip and slide if I don't correctly step over the tendrils of tree roots, so I make sure I watch where I'm walking.

Every step I take is another glance upwards at the tall trees. Then at the patch of rippling water only five to eight minutes away. I know stepping into water with it being 55 degrees is like committing suicide, but I imagine it as stepping into an ice bath–the kind athletes take to relieve pain and what-not. It'll relieve the pain in my ass from sitting in the car for sixteen hours and the sadness from selling all of my old furniture.

The idea of numbing or ridding all of the stress on my poor shoulders makes me walk somewhat faster. However, I do keep an eye on the ground because it's no longer tree roots that are my main concern, there are now rocks–big fat rocks that lead me to the creek. I mount some of them, hopping from one to the other with great balance.

But as I jump onto my fifth rock, I hear clanking. I jump off and find my footing before I slip down the slope in front of me. I look out into the opening of the creek and find a girl by a pile of rocks and tree trunks. She has sticks in her hands, smacking them against one another for what I assume is a fire.

She has brown skin that shines even in the cold. Her dark hair is pulled into a messy bun with curly strands poking out in every direction. She doesn't have on a bathing suit, rather a sports bra and humongous basketball shorts tied around her waist by the strings in the front. I can see her clearly even though the sun peeking through the trees is beginning to fade.

She's the first girl I've seen in Galena. Sure, I passed by the streets of Galena yesterday and saw girls, but this is the girl I can accurately make out.

I step down and try to keep my grasp on the rock beside me, but the ground is now muddy and I can't accurately walk down. I try to find my footing, but as I place my left foot down, I slip. I slide down a few feet and shout a few cuss words. I hope I fell gracefully, but no one looks good falling down a muddy slope, not even a French supermodel.

I sit up and look down at my dirty overalls and boots. Mud is piled up at the bottom of my Dr. Martens and if I stand, I'm sure I'll fall into the water and accidentally drown. So what I do is face my failure and watch the girl run over with a terrorized look on her face. Thankfully it isn't humor wrinkling it up.

She reaches out a hand once she's at my feet and I cautiously extend my own. "I'll slip again," I tell her.

She shakes her head. "You won't. I promise," she says as she eagerly shakes her hand out.

I tightly grab her hand and place my other hand on her forearm. She pulls me up and places my arm over her shoulder. Her left hand hovers over my waist and she slowly walks over to her original side of the creek.

"Are you hurt?" she asks as she sets me down on a rock.

I shake my legs and arms, trying to catch a sharp pain hiding in my body. But nothing comes out so I say, "No, I'm fine. Thank you for helping me."

She shrugs. "You could've hit your head. I had to make sure you didn't die on my watch."

I chuckle. The girl bends down and picks up her sticks. She slams them against one another and grumbles when she doesn't see a spark. I laugh again because she isn't even doing it right.

She looks at me with furrowed brows and spits out, "What?"

I lift up my hands in mock surrender and shake my head. "Nothing. You're just kind of... doing it wrong."

"How is it done then?" she asks, shoving the sticks into my hands.

I grab them and sit them on my lap. "I actually don't know," I tell her. "I've seen my dad do it but when men speak about building fires and living in the wilderness, I kind of tune them out. All I know is that you're supposed to rub a stick against another stick. Then there's the force of friction and ta-da, a fire."

"Hm," she hums. "Cool."

"Why are you trying to start a fire anyway?"

She sits down criss-cross in front of me and picks at the rocks, throwing some behind me at the pile of wood. "I get bored," she says. "And what are you doing here anyway?"

"Just moved in," I say and point up, way past the trees, at the peak of one of the mansions. "Up the hill."

The girl's eyes go wide. "Up the hill?"

I purse my lips and say, "Yeah... is that a bad thing?"

"No, it's just where all the rich people live. Are you rich?"

I shrug. I've never focused on exactly how much money my parents have, I just know that they have a lot. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Hmmm," she hums again, but this time it's an observant hum. She glances down at my outfit–the dirty Nirvana shirt and the worn out overalls with patches on the knees. She skips my boots; she already knows what they look like. "My name is Miami by the way."

"Miami?" I ask, stunned. I have never met anyone with the name 'Miami' before. I'd heard of Brooklyn, Paris, Austin, Texas, and Charlotte, but never Miami.

"Yeah," she says with a huge smile on her face. "I was born in Miami on a last minute trip. I know it's weird but a lot of Hispanic parents name their kids after some of the most random cities, states and countries. I had friends named America, Italia, and Pennsylvania."

"Oh. I get it." I nod and offer my understanding. "Also, my name is Juniper. Like Jupiter... but not. People call me June, so you can call me that."

Miami giddily rolls on the balls of her feet and smiles vibrantly. It's almost like the sun has decided to stay out to play a little longer. "Can I call you Junie?" she asks.

I violently shake my head and say, "Absolutely not. My dad used to call me that when I was little. It brings back embarrassment."

She cackles. "Well, worth a try." Then she turns around and begins walking alongside the water. She picks up a rock and throws it across the creek, and I watch it bounce off another rock and plop into the water. She must believe I'm following her, because she begins to speak.

I quickly jump off my pointy seat and scrape my boots against the gravel. I run up beside her and listen to her talking about how exciting the water is. It jumps around, bouncing off the rocks and tree trunks glued to the creek floor.

"Are you going to swim?" I question, even though I can feel her wet shorts that on their own, say, 'I've already gone on a swim.'

"Maybe," she says.

I run over to the water and place my hands into the stream. It bites my fingers and I quickly pull them back, stuffing them into my pockets. "How do you not get cold?"

She jumps into the light stream. She has no shoes on, which alarms me for a second before I realize she has done this many times before. "Sometimes I swim in December before it freezes over. And then I come to ice skate."

"And you don't get hypothermia?"

She shakes her head. "I just jump in and sit for a second. I go down for three seconds. I used to turn a little blue at first but I'm okay now."

"Oh," I grumble. I don't ask any more questions about the water. I just look around at the beautiful scenery and how the leaves have avoided the running stream. They land on our heads, land at our feet, but never into the water. It's as though they are forbidden by the stream. Somehow casted away by mother nature. Maybe she is preserving it for Miami.

We turn back around once the creek has turned into a small stream, and talk about how I am now her friend. "We can meet here after school. I get out at 3:00 and then I eat and change. I come down here at four." She rubs her shoulder against mine and asks, "What about you?"

"I get out at 3:00 too."

She thinks for a moment, piecing imaginary puzzle pieces in her head. I can tell she's trying to figure out where my new school is. "Are you going to Galena Middle School?"

I nod. "Yeah, I am. I could have told you if you asked. You didn't have to guess."

"Eh, I wanted to. What grade are you in?"

"Eighth," I say. "I'm fourteen."

"Cool," she exclaims. "Me too. Do you know your first period yet?"

I sigh. Not because I'm sad that I don't have this information yet, but because starting at a new school means being ogled at, and having to introduce myself to people that have no space for me in their groups anymore. Being new means catching up, and trying to understand dozens of materials I wasn't even taught at Rhinebeck. It's all too nerve-racking.

"No, I don't."

Miami squeals and leaps into the main portion of the creek. "I'll tell Principal Reeves to let me show you around then."

I nod. She jumps up again and again and then reaches out a hand. I can't grab it, I'm too far away, but I take a few steps to be closer to her. My boots touch the water and I shiver even though my toes are protected.

"C'mon. Jump in. You have to clean yourself up anyway."

"I can't, I'll get hypothermia."

She frowns and runs over to me. She pulls my hands from my sides and cups them with her insanely cold fingers. "Come. On. Please!"

I study her face for a moment. I look at her vivid white smile that cuts her lips each time she opens her mouth; the dip in her nose that projects the slight bulb of the tip. Her messy bun is becoming undone and her curls are slapping her face whenever the wind blows.

Miami might be mother nature, I think. There are many reasons why I think so, but the main reason is that she blends into the water and trees. But one concern is that I am already submerged in water and I have no idea how. I want to scream out a billion expletives, but I stick to the silence. It allows me to ask myself, 'Is mother nature convincing? Or did Miami just hypnotize me?'