This is stupid. She’s fucking stupid. It feels like she shouldn’t be here, when she’s like, fucking off her head after talking such a big game about how THEY’RE NO GOOD, but she’s using anyways. How in the moment, hot spun and summer nighted, she goes home with him and finds herself sneaking out the next morning, half confused, a little hallowed out. How she ought to feel more ashamed and bored now that that curiosity’s been itched, but instead she just kind of misses him and doesn’t know what to say, the emotion’s all tangled on the tip of her tongue, and Rue’s more embarrassed than anything that he doesn’t say anything about it, too casual, too cool, and she’s just...

                   In her FUCKING feelings about it.

So it’s that state of mind she’s in when seeing him lean close to that girl, that he doesn’t even look her way and she feels again, fucking stupid about this shit, and doesn’t know how to feel or how to act. With Jules it was always just HER TALKING OVER the things that felt uncomfortable, that grated against her flesh and left her raw. And... they haven’t talked for longer than they ever had, discounting the whole break past the whole intervention thing. It fucking hurts, and she’s left frozen, staring at him on the level, as his fingers twist, and link with her own.

Stomach lurching, heart pounding! Elliot’s too casual about this intimacy, and Rue’s left in a daze, but not so much that she can ignore the girl glaring her down, embarrassed as she leans in closer. “Can we like... GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.” the girl’s glaring her way, annoyed for the prize being snatched up before she could claim him. “I’m...” jealous, I’m fucking jealous, I’m fucking jealous because we fucked and we never talked about it and she still doesn’t, she really really doesn’t. “I um... I missed you.” she avoids him, ignores his texts and becomes a ghost, it’s all her fault, really. “Did we fuck up??? That night? Should we have like... you know... not?”

jealous, protective & territorial meme ( no longer accepting ) + @stringsonmyguitar // elliot

          The problems begin when she accidentally fucks Elliot.

Now, that’s nobody’s fault, really. They’re both on molly and she can kind of remember it, bits and flashes and how they laugh too much while it’s happening, and its eased of the awkward pretension that she’s always known before when it comes to intimacy of any kind, how she doesn’t know how to navigate, both rudderless and without compass. She doesn’t remember who starts it but, she remembers KISSING HIM and the taste of cigarettes and weed and cheap beer, and it’s all a mess from there, and she might have even enjoyed it, which feels weird for her, the girl who never really knew what it was like to sleep with someone without feeling some sense of pressure weighing down on her chest, some obligation that she felt she had to fulfill.

                                  No, this was...

                                                                          ....

                                               She doesn’t want to think about it.

                                                                         Things carry on, like normal.

That’s what she ought to want, isn’t it? But there’s something that feels itchy when she sees him, and it’s nothing to do with him having anything (she hopes, did they use a condom?), but she’s ducking, weaving, it’s HARD TO BREATHE when she sees in him the dark, in flashing moments, lit up with his stupid smile he wears when he’s rolling deep and heavy. Suddenly the drugs don’t do enough, and he’s not about os she’s tasting what sobriety is like, for a bit, that is, but the places here are wash with people who will give you pills for a kiss and a a dance and she remembers what it’s like to be all used up again, and the balance feels a little bit restored, doesn’t it? It’s easy when everyone’s either a friend, or the enemy, and nobody’s supposed to be fucking their friends and she’s kind of blurred the lines for that, hasn’t she?

jealous, protective & territorial meme ( no longer accepting ) + @stringsonmyguitar // elliot

Avery’s just looking for a laugh ; hanging out in the fucking outskirts of LA, just a stop on the highway off to nowhere, she’s LA hot in a nowhere town, smoking cigarettes as she fills up her car when this kid shows up. Only, he’s not really a kid, as he offers to light her cigarette with the kind of smoothness that makes her laugh, because Avery LOVED BOLD, and she loved daring, and he’s like, so extra bright, isn’t he? How casual he leans against the hood of her car and offers her a joint, she can’t help but ask, “Is there anything worth doing in a place like this?” and he answers me with a confidence that makes her laugh.

He shows her the place that overlooks the town, and in the dark, you can see the lights of bigger cities over the ridges, the dips of the valley. She tells him that she sees someone die, once, when she’s 16 and making out with some boy in his car in a place just like this one. How graceful and terrible it was, THE GIRL FLIES, disappearing into that roaring gorge. It made her wonder what it’d be like to die, young and beautiful and perfect, and she laughs it off, and he kisses her and it tastes like the weed they’ve been smoking, the lines they’ve done off his dash.

It’s the 5th day, and she hates motel living, a girl with expensive taste, so she skirts around the edge of this place and contemplates moving on. She’s been screwing Elliot since the first night because, why not, she’s always looking for a GOOD TIMES and living without consequence, what’s another encounter with a good looking person in a a moment that’s never going to matter in her life. But he’s determined, isn’t it? To burrow beneath her flesh and leave a reminder, as he does against the nightstand, a lamp knocked over, one leg hooked over his arm where she laughs, breathless, into that open mouth, that kiss he delivers, as he murmurs her name harsh against her flesh. She tells him that she’s leaving tomorrow, and he’s not having it, hides her keys and they drink the contents of all the mini fridge, shitty tequila, awful whiskey. 

@stringsonmyguitar​ asked: “Sorry that I’m pretty and everyone wants to fuck me--”

discord sentence starters - accepting!

​

x

“What, you’ve never snuck out of school before?”

Elliot is too sober for this party, honestly. Which is why he looks for the nearest room, planning on getting out of dodge long enough to get high again. When he opens the door to one of the bedrooms, he pauses, not at all expecting to see a girl curled up on the floor, leaning against one of the walls.

When she glances up to look at him, he stammers, taken aback by how swollen and red her eyes look. “O-Oh my god, are you crying?”

At her response, he feels kind of bad, still hovering in the doorway. “Are you alright? Like, can I get you anything?” Doesn’t want to pry too much, but also doesn’t really want to just leave someone crying by themselves in here.

The fact that he doesn’t immediately leave burns her cheeks with embarrassment, hating anyone seeing her in such a state of vulnerability. At least he wasn’t a giggling couple looking for a spare bed, she supposed, knowing full well that maybe a bedroom wasn’t the best place to have a meltdown at a high school party.

“No, its okay.” Izzy pulled herself up from her crouched position, stumbling a little as the blood rushed to her head. The shock of the interruption had caused the tears to stop flowing, although the flush of her cheeks still shone. “I was just gonna leave anyway. Its all yours.”

Pause. A tilt of the head. Izzy’s brows knit for a moment, examining the guy before her.

“Wait, why are you in here?”