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lovesickinbed · 5 months

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SAY DON'T GO.

✧.* "Why'd you have to make me want you? Why'd you have to give me nothin' back? Why'd you have to make me love you? I said, "I love you", you say nothin' back."

pairing. ellie williams x f!reader summary. ellie confesses her feelings for her best friend. it doesn't go as hoped. based on say don't go by taylor swift. warning. angst!! with plans for a happy ending depending on if you guys want a part 2. w.c. 2400.

It's cold in Jackson.

You tug the sleeves of your sweater starchly over your fingertips, fighting to ignore the chill that whips at your cheeks as you cross your arms beneath your chest.

The Tipsy Bison looms ahead of you, an amber glow pouring from the windows and into the empty, snow-ridden street.

Rocking on the balls of your feet, you deliberate whether or not you should run back to your place and change. It's a bit of a walk, and the thin layer of snow piling at your feet makes it less than ideal, but it beats catching frostbite.

Who wears a skirt in December?

You're about to make a break for it when — before you can even register her presence — a slender pair of hands drapes a jacket across your shoulders.

"You look pretty," the owner of the hands says. "Nice skirt."

A familiar warmth spreads to your cheeks as Ellie steps into your line of sight. Unlike you, she's dressed for the weather in a casual grey hoodie and winter boots, her signature green parka now hanging from your shoulders.

Warm breath hits your face as Ellie leans forward and pulls the jacket tighter across your figure.

Her hair's pulled back into a low bun, and something twists in your chest as your eyes take in her freckled features, latching onto where they're dusted pink from the cold.

You tug a lip between your teeth, choosing to ignore the fuzzy feeling that's become intrinsically linked with Ellie's presence.

Cute, you think.

"It's Dina's," you say, eyebrows scrunching together. "I'm cold as shit, though. I feel stupid."

A wolf-whistle resounds from Ellie's lips.

"Well thank you, Dina," she sing-songs, her voice low. You grow hot under her gaze, belly swirling as those green eyes take you in. "It'll be warmer inside. Keep the jacket, though."

"Are you sure? I feel bad."

"Angel, don't," Ellie says conclusively, waving a hand. "It looks better on you than it does me anyway."

Her mouth quirks to the side, a smirk playing at her lips as she tucks loose hair behind your ear.

You open your mouth to protest, but she's already reaching for your hand and dragging you inside.

In the midst of an apocalypse, the Tipsy Bison is alive and well.

It thrums with life, the citizens of Jackson all gathering in what Maria has called "a celebration of years of peaceful occupation".

Or, as Jesse liked to call it, a "Hey, we're still not dead!" party.

"You made it!" Dina exclaims, eyes bright as you join her and Jesse at the bar. Jesse greets the both of you with a simple salute as Dina moves to hug Ellie first, then you, firm hands settling on your cloaked shoulders. "And you look amazing."

She eyes the skirt, and you feel a little self-conscious as the group's attention falls on your outfit. "Right, Ellie?"

Her tone is conspiratorially light as she looks pointedly at the auburn-haired girl, something unspoken transpiring between the two of them. Ellie looks away, scratches at her neck.

You stare at the floor, hoping that if you look hard enough it'll swallow you whole and save you the embarrassment of whatever they're currently thinking about you.

Jesse raises his brows at his girlfriend, who gives him the kind of look that says "What?" and rolls her eyes, turning to face you instead.

"So," Dina says, leaning against the bar. "What's new? How's everything going with the garden?"

You almost sigh, grateful for the chance to speak about something other than your choice of attire. You launch into a discussion about Jackson's community garden, a project you'd been overseeing for the last month or so.

Sometime between discussing the tomato shortage and unearthing the details of the temporary caterpillar problem, Ellie pulls you against her, pressing your back to her front.

She casually rests her hands on either side of your waist, thumbs rubbing hypnotic circles against your hips.

It's around this time that you forget how to talk.

You know, consciously, that you're still speaking. And you know those words must be making some kind of sense, because Dina is nodding and Jesse's making quips, but none of it registers over the roar of blood rushing to your ears.

There's this other thing, too. The thing you shove down as you squeeze your thighs shut, trying to dull an ache you don't fully understand. Not yet, anyway.

"So, yeah," you cough, bringing the story to halt. "That's about it."

After another couple minutes of mindless chatter, Dina and Jesse take to the dancefloor, and you're left alone with Ellie.

Her voice is a low murmur against the shell of your ear.

"You okay, angel?"

Angel.

"Uh, yeah," you say, pulling out of her grip. "Just hot, I think. Is it just me or is it, like, really warm in here?"

It's almost comical how quickly you strip out of her jacket, flinging it across one of the stools. You turn to face her, hoping the heat in your cheeks doesn't flare as much as it burns.

The corner of Ellie's lip quirks downward at the loss of contact, eyebrows cinching together. She reaches to bring you back to her, but you're already moving backward.

"I think I'm gonna go dance," you say before she can get a word in edgewise.

You make for the dancefloor, desperate to quieten the roaring in your ears.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Older music blares from the overhead speakers, a song you recognise pouring into the venue. You let the beat carry your movements and join the pulse of bodies moving in time with the music.

"Mind if I join you?" a voice asks from behind you.

You turn, immediately faced with a boy about your age.

"Max!" you exclaim, drawing him into a hug. You recognise him instantly as the person you'd been partnered with for stables duties last spring, right before he'd switched assignments. "Hey, how are you?"

Max flashes you a toothy grin. "I'm great. Not as great as you, though. You look... wow."

He raises a hand, gesturing to your outfit.

"It's just a skirt," you say dismissively. "And this is probably the last time I'll wear one of these, anyway. Too much attention."

"I'm sure."

You blink at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that you've got to know how beautiful you are. It makes sense you're getting a little attention."

"That's sweet but..." you laugh, awkwardly. "I don't really get much attention from anyone, really. I was referring to my friends."

Max quirks a brow. "Well you've got to know why that is."

You tilt your head, not quite getting it.

"Come on," Max says, shaking his head. "It's obvious."

His gaze shifts, and you follow his line of sight to where Ellie is standing at the bar. She's staring at you, hard. Something unreadable flickers in her eyes, her jaw set as she looks straight ahead.

You look away quickly.

Shaking your head, you ask: "Ellie? What does she have to do with anything?"

"Wow. Don't tell me you're that oblivious."

"Oblivious to..."

"Everyone thinks the two of you are together."

You pause. "What? No, we're just friends."

Max laughs, almost meanly. "You sure about that? The girl's attached to you like an extra limb."

"I'm her best friend," you reiterate.

Max didn't get it — Ellie had lost a lot of people she really cared about.

She didn't like to talk about life pre-Jackson that much, but it made sense to you that she'd be a little clingy after going through something like that.

"Sorry, sorry," Max says, raising his hands in defense. "I don't mean to pry. I'm just saying that's probably why everyone steers clear. I mean, she can be pretty scary."

"Ellie's harmless," you say, your words unconvincing to your own ears.

You recall her eyes burning holes into the two of you.

She can be pretty scary.

"So, a couple of us are heading out," Max says, changing the subject. "A buddy of mine found an abandoned park a little way's out. Might shoot up some infected and hang out for a while. Interested?"

You nod. It sounds exactly like the type of thing you're very much not interested in, to be honest.

You glance over to the bar, catching Ellie's intense gaze, and feel a pit of anxiety form in your stomach.

"Yeah," you say, slowly. "I'll be there. Just let me say bye to my friends."

He grins as you excuse yourself and walk over to where Ellie is standing.

"I'm heading out," you say as you approach her. "Max invited me to go with him and some others outside of town for a little while."

Ellie's brows scrunch together. "What?"

"Yeah, we're thinking of, uhm, shooting up some infected and hanging out at the park—"

"Not happening."

You frown. "Excuse me?"

Ellie rolls her eyes, scoffing. "Not fucking happening."

"I don't remember asking your permission?"

"Are you stupid?" She asks, tone harsh. "You think Maria would sign off on something like this?"

"Since when do you care about what Maria signs off on? She's distracted with the party, anyway."

"I care that you're putting yourself in danger," Ellie huffs. "You call me to come take care of it when there's a spider in your room. You can't handle infected."

"I'll be with Max and his friends," you say firmly. "They're all on patrol."

Ellie's laugh is forced. "Yeah, because Max and his dickhead friends are going to protect you. First sign of a bloater and they're running to save their own asses."

You open your mouth to protest, but she's quick to cut you off.

"I'm coming with you," she says. "Let me get my gun."

Max's voice rings in your ears.

The girl's attached to you like an extra limb.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you say, quietly.

Something flashes in Ellie's eyes. Confusion, at first. Then hurt.

You suddenly feel like an asshole.

You want to reach out and smooth the crease in her brows, tell her you're sorry — even if you aren't quite sure what for.

Ellie's gaze flickers between you and the crowd. "So this is about him, then."

Him. She says it like it burns.

You don't know what game you're playing anymore. You don't care about Max, you never have.

But when you're around Ellie, everything's too much — too hot, too fucking intense, too saturated — and you don't know what it means, or how to turn it off.

I'm her best friend.

It makes you feel like shit.

So, you nod.

"Yeah," you say, against your better judgement. "I was thinking it'd be nice to get to know him a little. One on one."

"Right."

Silence.

"Is that okay?"

Music bleats from the speakers. For a second, Ellie doesn't say anything.

And then: "Don't."

You look up, dragging your eyes away from their fixation on the hardwood floor.

"Don't go. Please."

She says the words like they're hard to get out. Painful, even.

"Ellie," you say, softly. "I'll be safe."

"It's not that. Not just that, I mean."

You stare at her, but she isn't looking back, too busy picking dutifully at the peeling skin on her fingers.

You resist the urge to reach forward and close your hands around her own to get her to stop.

"Then what is it?"

Ellie's inhale is shaky. "I didn't want to... at least not like this... fuck, this is awkward."

The song on the speakers changes to an 80s number you recognise from Joel's CD collection. It draws Ellie from her thoughts, makes her huff with frustration.

You take her hand, dragging her outside and onto the porch. It's quieter here, but you'd forgotten how cold it was, wincing as it immediately bites at your cheeks.

You cross your arms over your chest and look at Ellie, who lets out a strained: "Look... angel, you've gotta know how I feel about you."

Not what you'd been expecting.

"How you... feel about me?"

"Yeah." Ellie walks over to the wooden banister, her green eyes reluctantly meeting yours as you come up beside her.

"I don't get it," you say, puzzled.

Ellie's voice is barely above a whisper. "You're really gonna make me say it, huh?"

She braces herself, rests both hands against the banister. Another shaky breath.

"I... fucking hell." She runs a hand across her face. "I love you."

"I love you too? What does that—"

"No," Ellie says, cutting you off. Her hand hangs in the air between you. "Not just... not just as a friend."

Oh. Oh.

Her confession settles between you like fallen snow. Heavy, thick.

Cold.

Ellie leans forward, green eyes searching yours. "Wait, you seriously didn't know?"

I love you. Not just as a friend.

You shake your head. None of this makes any sense.

"You never...there was no indication—"

"No indication? Angel, I gave you my jacket."

"Okay, but that doesn't necessarily mean—"

"Whenever you come over, I let you sleep in my bed—"

"I thought you were just cold—"

"I call you angel, for fuck's sake—"

"I thought you called everyone angel."

Ellie looks at you, incredulous. "Have you ever heard me call Dina 'angel'?"

"No, but—"

"What about Jesse? Have you ever seen me cuddling Jesse?"

"We're best friends!" you exclaim. "That's what best friends do!"

It's like a tap has been opened, the words flooding out of you in a rush. This was all too much, too soon.

Ellie didn't love you.

She couldn't.

Silence.

"Is that... what we are to you?" Ellie asks, the crack in her voice betraying her.

Your words are soft, tentative.

"I don't know how to be anything else."

At that moment, the doors to the Tipsy Bison swing open. Max walks out of the bar, his friends flanking him from both sides. He sidles up to you, swings a hefty arm across your shoulders.

"You ready to go?" He asks, a wide smile plastered across his red face. The smell of nicotine washes over you as he talks.

I love you. Not just as a friend.

You nod, and Ellie's face falls.

"Great!" Max exclaims. "See you around, Ellie."

And then he leads you by the shoulders, pulling you away from the one real thing you've ever known, a crestfallen Ellie watching from the porch.

#i... kind of hate this #LMFAO #will there be a part 2 who knows #i mean its planned out but #yeah #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff #tlou fanfic #the last of us #tlou 2 #the last of us 2 #ellie williams x reader oneshot #joel miller #ellie williams

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tomurakii · 5 months

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I like bloodweave. Okay. But I DON'T like the version of them in fanfic where Astarion is a dick and Gale is like. Whining and pleading for him to be emotionally vulnerable (or just. Nice to him) prior to the relationship being established. Because that is just not accurate. Gale needs the player to express interest in him during his weave-teaching scene before he even considers hitting on them properly. Gale is entirely resigned to his fate and needs someone else to pull him away from it. Gale only starts being sweet and romantic and devoted after you accept his love confession and give him hope for the future. Gale says fuck all and then slinks away to cry privately if you break up with him.

Like he isn't chasing after people lmao. He isn't dropping to his knees and crying about anything much less this dickhead he met a week ago. He is overwhelmingly passive about literally everything personal to him up to and including his own death (provided there are no casualties/there is a good reason) until after the player expresses that they care about him. Astarion is not doing that in any of these fics.

Like Gale is friendly and a dork and doesn't wanna get murdered but he fully has a suicide plan. He thought the artefacts would help him survive but he didn't believe he'd ever truly live again. If Gale confessed and Astarion said/did like one (1) mean thing afterward Gale's romance is closed off forever. He's wandering into the forest to cry. He's killing himself immediately. His fragile ego and self worth can't take it. You have to understand that when we joke about him being pathetic it's not bc he's like. Sopping wet and chasing people down and begging for a scrap of attention. It's because he craves affection but would literally rather die than ask or even hope for it until someone else forces that hope back into his serotonin-deficient tadpole brain.

#i feel like u can tell when a bloodweave fic is written by an astarion stan vs a gale stan lol #because the astarion stans are just using gale as a vessel for like. their sopping wet meow meow #who screams and cries until astarion becomes emotionally vulnerable with them #which gale would not do. realistic bloodweave is astarion tries to fuck him in act 1 and he refuses because of the orb #and then astarion is like “boo what the fuck. change of plans” and gale is like “okay” and they never speak of it again lol #anyway #please god the gale characterisation in this place. half of you make him the soppiest most pathetic loser and the other half make him evil #he's not ACTUALLY a loser. when i joke about it the reason its funny is because its not true #hes just a regular guy with depression lol. hes not out here debasing himself begging for some old twink to care abt him #bg3 #gale dekarios #bloodweave #gale of waterdeep #does this make sense. i havent slept #i just mean that if you want gale to be sappy he needs to have like. prior assurance that his feelings are reciprocated #because if he doesnt have that and astarion is a dick to him he WILL just give up on the relationship #like hes not hunting people down after they deliberately upset him. i see so many fics where they create tension by lime #*like #having astarion openly fuck someone else after establishing a sort-of relationship with gale. for the drama #like hey. gale fully dumps you if you do that in game!! you have no way to convince him not to. he will dump astarion for that permanently

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