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moneymasnn · 1 year

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Right Timing | Charles Leclerc

Notes: 11k words of Charles and y/n pinning for each other…your all (hopefully) going to love it xx

this is my first post in about 6 months and I'm so happy to be back! thank you all for the continuous love and support I fucking love this app. this fic hasn't been proof read but oh well, ignore some spelling mistakes, sorry. anyways... ENJOY!!!

Blurb: One where you have a huge crush on your best friend's brother, the one and only charles leclerc, since you were a teenager, with him continuously telling you he was too old for you and you had no chance. You eventually gave up hope and moved on. But did charles? (Best friends brother troop/ slight enemy’s to lovers troop/ Older boy and younger girl)

Warnings: lots of angst, crying, sad y/n and sad Charles. lots of arguments and slight nsfw? but not really. Small age gap.

11.1k words

Arthur leclerc, your best friend since nursery… Your favourite partner in crime, your favourite laugh on a bad day, your favourite person in the whole wide world. Best to be described as home, your comfort person. He was the voice within reason, all that was right in the world.

He's your best friend.

Y/n y/l/n, she was truly and utterly his favourite thing about the world. He counts his lucky stars he has her to help him carry his weight. Y/n was the only person Arthur let visit him when his dad died, and in his books, that made her alright. Sure she would make him want to scream and cry and punch walls, especially with her choice in men. But Arthur was always there for her, when she needed to laugh or to cry he knew what it was she needed at any given moment, he could read her like she was his favourite book.

She was his best friend.

—

How it started:

A little girl with puffy red cheeks sat at the bottom of the nursery playground. Her legs crossed on the green summer time grass as she sniffled again, gently plucking a daisy for the ground before adding it to the daisy chain she was making. She liked to say she enjoyed her own presence, but truly she was distracting herself from the lack of company. With the other young girls teasing her for her wild curly hair, she willingly chose to be sat on the grass of the playground alone.

“Hey! Can you teach me how you did that? I wanna make one for my mum!”

And with no regard for her personal space he sat down next to her on the grass, squashing half of her daisy chain, but she didn't tell him that.

He didn't care that she was crying or that she had poofy hair or that she was even a girl, he was eager to learn her talents and carry on with his lunch break.

But when Arthur noticed the signs that the girl was rather shy and sad he thought he would stay with her for the rest of lunch, keep her company.

Little did she know this company wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

And at age five, the pair promised to be friends for life.

It didn't take long for them to get their mothers talking, and after that it was set in stone, playdate after playdate. Arthur's mum became your mum's hairdresser, so there were many nostalgic memories for the two in the salon, especially when y/n would accompany her mother to her appointments. The pair's best memory is y/n letting Arthur cut her hair in the storage cupboard of his mum's shop. The horror on both parents' faces when one of y/n's pig tails were held in the hand of the young boy.

Their friendship only bloomed from there…

After spending almost every weekend watching Arthur and his older brother race in karts in the rain, to spending most afternoons around the leclerc residence playing with Arthur on his xbox, the girl felt like family.

When she was young she always found herself drawn to the middle leclerc. He was away a lot of the time, karting. He was slightly older so no doubt he found the pair childish and would always moan when he was made to spend time with them.

Charles' mother was the first to figure out your little crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the family on a winter skiing trip, you were around thirteen. It was your first time up in the mountains, so when your arms started to wave and you felt your body lean way too far back Charles did the only morally right thing, dropping the glove he was putting on and outstretching his body to catch you in time.

He didn't catch you in time.

Instead his heroic act to save you turned into humiliation when he realised you had taken him down with you.

Pascal carefully watched as you turned around, her eyes glued to yours that were glued to her sons. She watched your tinted red cheeks as Charles scoffed and begged you to get off of him as his bare hands were now engulfed in the thick snow, causing him to suffer with a cold for the rest of the holiday.

Your eyes widened and sparked at the sight of him. You would gaze up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, an expression his mother would soon get used to as she watched you fall for her son over the next few years.

Charles was older, and very uninterested. He didn't find your little crush as cute as everyone else did, the thought it made him look uncool. He would roll his eyes when you would grab his arm or duck when you would try to kiss his cheek. He hated when your families would go out for meals and you would sit next to him, or how you would call him after a race to congratulate him, no matter his result.

Charles always saw you as his little brother's best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

That was until your first boyfriend. A three year age gap wasn't that big of a deal as they all grew older. Charles found himself having mutual friends with his brother and would occasionally bump into Arthur and you at a party.

You were 16, you thought you had met the love of your life, an older boy, he was 18, around charles age who was now 19 and worming his way into f2.

Arthur didn't approve of Joao. He knew you were trying to prove to charles that the age gap isn't that big of a deal after his brother had repetitively told you you were to young for him, but somewhere down the line you found yourself mesmerised by Joaos eyes and that was it for you, charles no longer rented the forefront of your mind.

Joao was great, at first. You knew he wasn't the love of your life, but for the moment he looked to play the role quite well, and you were happy. You just didn't expect it to end like it did, maybe age gaps do matter?

You were at some house party in the hills of monaco, some friend of Joaos. You were downstairs in the kitchen with Arthur as he watched you drink your body weight in alcohol. He could tell something was bothering you but he chose not to mention it. In all your years of friendship he knew you would come to him eventually.

“Where is the lover boy anyway?” he spoke up.

Your lack of response is when Arthur clocked onto your boyfriend being the reason for your excessive drinking. Him ditching you, yet again.

You slammed down your empty red cup, wiping the dribble from your chin as you decided enough was enough and you looked for the presence of your boyfriend.

Arthur bid you good luck on your travels as his attention was now turned to the girl he had been eyeing up across the room.

And with your liquid courage you stumbled around the party. The house was huge. Gigantic windows that draped around the whole house. Everywhere you looked was so picturesque, making you fall in love with Monaco more and more. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights leading down to the beach front. From the other end you could see continuous hills leading up into the stary sky, tiny specs of light from homes probably just as big and fancy as the one you were currently standing in swarmed your vision, a far cry from the apartment you and your mother shared where your view was a brick wall to another apartment complex.

Your heels were rubbing the back of your ankles as your hands gripped the bottom of your dress pulling it down as it was miles too short as you made your way out to the garden.

And there he sat, on the steps leading to the lit up outdoor pool, your boyfriend. A skinny little blonde girl sat on his knee. She was older than you, clearly. She took the cigarette from his lips and placed it on her own as her other arm draped over his shoulder. It was like this week after week, it was like you were a ghost.

This isn't the young love you put out for, and you decided enough was enough.

You always forgave him, but tonight was different. This night changed everything.

Tears welled in your eyes as you turned back into the house, you were going home. Joao caught a glimpse of this as he jumped up and followed you back into the house, why he would always chase after you you still don't know.

“Y/n, baby stop.” you ignored the sound of his voice as you pushed through the crowds of people to get back to the kitchen in hopes that Arthur was still there. He wasn't.

You made it to the kitchen before he grabbed the back of your arm pushing you against the kitchen island. His hand came up to wipe away a fallen strand of hair as he tucked it behind your ear.

“Come on y/n i didn't even do anything-”

“She was on your lap.” your voice crooked, you so desperately didn't want to be the little girl everyone thought you was and cry, not in front of everyone anyway.

“It's not that big of a deal-”

“It is that big of a deal! I'm humiliated!” you shouted back, creating a scene you so desperately wanted to avoid.

“I just- I just want to go home.” you said in between sniffles.

“Baby, don't cry, let's just go back to mine, okay? I'll call a taxi-”

“No, I want to go home, my home.” you begged, the tears were falling now.

His grip tightened around your arm as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

“I need to find Arthur, and I need to go home.” you said, pushing his arm as he still had you pinned against the counter.

“Oh come on y/n, drop the act you know you want to come back to mine.”

You threw your head back dodging his fingers that were trying to touch your hair again, avoiding his eyes.

“Joao let go, you're hurting me.”

That only made his grip tighten around your arms, pushing you against the counter even harder than before. As he leant down to your ear-

“She said let go mate.”

Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt joao grip loosen as he stood back.

“Yeah and what are you gonna do about it, leclerc?”

That's when punches were thrown and Joao was hunched over holding his busted lip. Joao was grabbed by another person before he could lunge back at who you assumed was Arthur, but as you turned your head you saw a different leclerc shaking his hand. His knuckles were red, and his eyes were darker than the ones you were used to, charles.

“y/n get in the car.” he said, you stood up, sniffing and nodding your head. But then you remembered your missing friend.

“Arthur-”

“I'll get him. Get in the car.” his tone was strong, not what you were used to from the middle leclerc.

You waited by his car in the cold for a few moments just before Charles came out the house, a stumbling tipsy Arthur under his arm. There was pink lip gloss smeared over his cheeks and lips, and at that moment you felt a small smile creep on your face.

However, the car ride home was silent, you sat in the front with Charles, as Arthur passed out in the back seat. Faint french music played from the radio as charles eyes were firmly gripped on the road.

As you rounded the street to your home Charles finally spoke up, “You really know how to pick them.”

You sniffled again, unable to reply to him mainly because he was right and you were embarrassed. As the car came to a stop Charles undid his seat belt mumbling that he would walk you to your door.

He balanced on the back of his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight your tear stained cheeks. Charles thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half an hour, your hair hadn't been brushed and you were rummaging through your purse like a mad woman, he still thought you were pretty. He would never tell you that though.

“Don't tell me you've lost-”

“Got them!” You giggled, shaking your keys in the air before whipping your nose for what felt like the fifth time that night. You stalled as you pushed the key in the door, turning to look Charles in his eye for the first time since the party.

“Thank you-” but he cut you off, not wanting to hear it. You were his brother's best friend, Arthur wouldn't forgive him if he ever watched you in a position like the one that night and didn't do anything.

“Dont.”

“No really, thank you, charles.” You smiled, Charles smiled too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Charles and not charlie.

After a moment you dropped your bag on the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head rested on his chest as he hastily moved his hand and rubbed your back.

“Just make sure the next one isn't a total dick, okay?” he whispered, his chin placed on the top of your head.

He didn't know how much that sentence broke your little 16 year old heart.

You smiled and entered the house, Charles didn’t drive off that street before you waved at him out your window.

On the drive home we looked back at his younger brother, drooling on the back seat of his car.

It was that night where he realised the both of you weren't all that different, but so far apart.

The first time Charles saw you after that night was a couple months later, a family day at the beach. You had turned seventeen in that time and joao was old news. But charles eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sat in the sand on your own. Sipping from a bottle of beer that you most likely stole from his crate, your toes were dipped in the wet sand as you watched the sun set on your own.

Arthur had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, Arthur's attention was stuck on the pretty blonde that was talking to his nan.

The rest of your families were distracted too, or so Charles thought. His mum watched him intently as he walked back to the car park, grabbing a spare jumper from his car before making way down the beach front to join you.

He spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

He crouched down in the sand next to you, aware of how your eyes were on him. He placed the jumper on your legs,

“You're going to get a cold.”

You scoffed but complied. Putting the jumper over your head and pulling at the sleeves, it smelled like him.

“How are you?” you asked charles, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the monegasque sea.

“I'm okay.”

The boys lost their dad a little under a year ago now, you hadn't really seen Charles since. But he knew you hadn't left Arthur's side for them few months.

“How you holding up, really?” you nudged his shoulder with yours, he did his little signature smile before looking down at his lap. Avoiding the question.

“Thank you. For looking after Arthur I mean, he's lucky to have you.”

“Charlie…”

He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn't pressure him to answer your question, insted you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the coastline in silence.

Charles appreciated the silence and the way you didn't push him, moments like these he understood why Arthur loved you so much.

“It will be alright you know.” you hummed on his shoulder.

“I know.” Charles whispered back.

“Really, i can already see Charles leclerc, ferrari formula one driver. Your face will be all over Monaco, and we're all so proud. He'll be so proud.”

Charles hated how much you believed him, because in that moment a nineteen year old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself everything felt impossible.

“Don't forget about me when you're all big and famous, yeah?” you smiled up at him.

Charles looked down at you, his eyes were glossy but the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, he threw his head back in a laugh.

“I dont think I'm ever getting rid of you.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “at least your self aware charlie.”

After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place.

“y/n..” he whispered, oh how he whispered your name in his little broken accent, your heart melted as he backed away.

“I know, I know.”

You smiled and placed your head back on his shoulders looking at the sun that was nearly gone.

“You know I'm too old for you, right?” Charles whispered as he leaned his head on yours that was resting on his arm.

“I'm in it for the long game leclerc.” Charles giggled as he let his cheek get comfy on your head, pushing his side into you as you fully watched the sun disappear over the sea.

On the night of your 18th birthday Arthur had taken you out to your first club, you drank, alot…

Charles happened to be at the same club, so when your drunk body collided with his you couldn't help but wrap your arm around his torso, clinging onto him.

He gently placed hand on the small of your back smiling as you leaned on him.

Charles was 20 now, soon to turn 21 and had just signed a contract with alfa romeo, he was officially in formula one. Even Though you were proud of him you missed having him around.

You stood on your heels, leaning up to his ear as Charles met your movements and bent down to hear you better in the loud club and your heart fluttered at the small action of his ear hovering near your face.

“I'm eighteen now charlie.” he could hear the smile in your voice.

“I know, happy birthday mon amour.” kissing your forehead, this was the closest you had ever been to him before, and you craved more. He had never called you the nickname before, he was teasing you.

“I'm officially an adult nowwwww.” you longed out his ear before you hand palmed his cheek. You so desperately wanted to kiss him.

“Y/n.” His tone was serious as he caught onto your intentions.

“Y/nnn.” You teased him back, imitating his serious tone and rolling your eyes as you do so.

“I know you want to Charlie, come on…” you giggled at him, but you were drunk and a mess, so the arm around your waist was to stop you from falling flat on your arse not because he just wanted to touch you, you thought. You pushed his hand off you and stood up straight, Charles sighed as he placed his hand back on the small of your back, you looked up at him. The stupid little puppy dog eyes that he refused to listen to.

“I'm too old for you, love.” Charles' hand once again held you close as you started to lose your balance again, “and you're too drunk.”

“Drunk on love.” you exclaimed, Charles laughed, like really laughed and you couldn't help but admire the creases around his eyes. He moved your arm over his shoulder so he could hold you up.

“Let's find Arthur and get you home, okay?” but as Charles pulled away you pulled him back.

“I've waited eighteen years, Charlie, I'm sure I have the patience to wait a bit longer.”

Charles thought maybe you had forgotten that night, but you remembered the way his hand was filmy stuck to the small of your back most of the night, and how he lent down to hear you and how his stubble felt in the palm of your hand, and the butterflies only got worse.

You were falling harder everyday and you hated yourself for it, he didn't like you back.

Charles carried on with his f1 career with alfa romeo that year and you took up a journalism degree, following around arthur as he navigated the world of f3. You would occasionally bump into Charles when the boys had races at the same circuit.

But with his first Monaco race you obviously had to be there to support him.

Charles hated how his heart beat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his garage with your old ferrari cap on and an alfa romeo shirt with the number 16 on the back hugging your chest.

You truly had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and Charles found it harder to stay away. Your hair isn't frizzy anymore and you had for sure gone through puberty, he didn't like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.

The worst part is you hadn't even openly flirted with him in a while, and he couldn't seem to figure out why, and that bothered him so much more than he liked.

The small little y/n that used to follow him everywhere, always latched to his arm, looking up at him with heart eyes. I mean, you weren't sixteen anymore that was sure, but Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment that you weren't head over heels for him anymore.

Charles needed to snake off that weird feelling in his stomach.

You were now 19 about to turn 20, it was the off season and you couldn't wait to soak up some sun on the leclerc yacht. Your favourite summer getaway.

You drove up to the small paddock on a little beach and climbed onto the grey boat, it was charles’, of course. The whole family was there, you were talking to pascal as arthur pulled you around the side of the boat, nearly causing you to break an ankle.

“Erm hello? Watch it.” you scolded him for pulling you so ruffly.

“You're over the whole in love with my older brother thing, right?” he asked, his hand running through his hair.

“I- i why?” you said, clocking your head to the side at Arthurs panicked manor. He knew you had been doing great this year, and he also knew why you declined every single boy that had attempted to ask you out on a date this year.

“Okay, erm,'' Arthur stood up straight and scratched the back of his head.

“Forget your stuff, let's just get off this boat. And er, don't turn around okay?” he tried to nonchalantly say, his hands gripping your shoulders were a dead give away something was wrong though.

You nodded your head and followed Arthur down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.

“Since when have I ever listened to you? I going to read my book on the sun-”

Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Charles, your Charles with a girl.

A pretty girl, beautiful actually, she was slim and perfect and her smile was enough to make you want to crumble in a ball.

She was leaning on him, grabbing his bicep as her hand brushed through his hair, he was laughing like really and truly laughing at whatever it was she had to say and you had never felt emotions like the ones you felt in that moment.

You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out himself, no remorse, and had just served it back to you on a silver platter.

He really didn't want you.

“y/n, i didn't even know he was bringing her i-”

“You knew?”

Arthur sighed before running his hands through his hair, “it's been around four months, mum really likes her, she's nice. I mean she's not you, but he's happy so i can't complain.'' Arthur shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to console you in that moment.

You turned away from the happy couple and sat on the small steps that lead down to the bottom of the yacht. Arthur sat down next to you, pulling your body into his as he wrapped his arm around you.

“What about me? When will I be happy?”

You hadn't realised you were crying until Arthur grabbed your arm and pulled you straight off the boat.

That was your wake up call, you had spent too much of your life waiting for someone that never wanted you. 19 years to be exact, a sad sad story to anyone that knew you. You were embarrassed and angry at yourself.

You needed to actually move on.

So that's what you did.

And that's when you met him, a young british boy, he was around your age and drove for a papaya team that shared the f1 grid with charles.

Lando norris.

He was 20, awkward, way too cocky for only his second year, and when you bumped into him in Bahrain of 2020 you chose him to be the one to make you move on.

He asked for your number a few races later and the two of you used to text all the time. He took you on cute picnic dates, asked if he could kiss you before he did, and overall was the kindest most respectful boyfriend a girl could ask for. You were actually happy, and it only took nineteen years.

It was imola when you bumped into Charles in the paddock, his brother wasn't here so he was confused as to why you were here, but then he saw the McLaren hat on your head and his eyebrows furred evenmore.

“y/n?”

“Hello, charles.” you gave him a tight lip smile before moving past him but he chased after you why you walked down the paddock strip. Past the ferrari garage.

“You're a McLaren fan now, huh?”

“Yep.”

Charles' heart hurt at your bluntness, he grabbed your arm so you would stop walking and talk to him.

“y/n.” serious charles. That stupid tone that usually made you freeze and obey whatever he had to say.

But this time you rolled your eyes and pulled your arm from his grip.

“Charles, I really have to be somewhere.” you lied, checking your watch.

“Like a journalism thing? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here, you could have flown with me and Joris?” and Charlotte, but he didn't mention that.

You really tried to pull your eyes from the red drivers suit that was wrapped around his hips, he was a ferrari driver now and you had never been more happy for him. You just wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how proud you were of him.

But right at this moment, you had never wanted to create more distance between you both.

“y/n?”

Both of your heads snapped as Lando ran up to you, you coughed and took a step back from charles.

Landos arm wrapped around your shoulder as he put out a fist for Charles to spud. Charles' eyes were glued to landos arm resting on your shoulder and he could feel the blood pumping in his heart speeding up.

Lando kissed your temple and Charles' eyes were glued to yours.

“Charles.” Lando smiled nodding his head.

“Lando.'' Charles' voice was laced with venom, not that Lando noticed.

“So you guys are?” Charles' eyebrows furred pointing between you both.

“We havent you know, labelled it yet. It's still kind of new” you smiled, it had been months.

“But I'm happy, really happy.” Charles knew that was a message to him, you were happy and he needed to leave you be. But with Lando of all people, Charles couldn't seem to shake this one off.

Charles mumbled something about needing to be somewhere and walked away from you both. Lando again oblivious to the interaction as his arm stayed secured around you and he balabbed on about the race as you walked to the McLaren motorhome.

Charles hated him.

Charles hated himself for his feelings.

He didn't know why he was so bothered, he had never been this bothered, nothing gotten to him like you and Lando just did. Joris told him maybe it was because he had a soft spot for you deep down, he joked that maybe Charles liked you back and Charles ignored him for the rest of the weekend at that accusation. But that didn't mean he didnt ignore his words.

It was over, you grew up and he should feel relieved you've moved on, right?

He broke up with Charlotte a month later.

Charles scoffed when you first bought lando along to family night, he hated how your mum loved his accent and how arthur laughed at all his jokes. He hated that he hadn't caught your eye all night, instead your eyes were glued on the stupid little british boys. Charles hated it, he sat there like a toddler that hadn't gotten their own way all night. He knew it was wrong but he hated his feelings more than he hated lando being sat at his table.

Charles was in the kitchen, he was picking at the leftover pie on the table top as everyone else was outside fawning over one of landos stories, he had really charmed the family.

His mother walked into the kitchen as he was taking a bite of cherry pie looking like a caught child, she laughed at the cherry stains in the corner of his mouth and passed him a tissue.

The pair stood in silence for a moment before Pascal spoke up.

“That's definitely not allowed in your diet, my sweet.” she smirked knowing the driver's strict diet.

“But you won't tell on me maman.” Charles flashed his puppy dog eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. She sighed and moved closer to him as he stood up straight.

“You have a lot on your mind my boy, and don't tell me you don't because I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Maman.” Charles sighed.

“This is about her isn't it?” Charles' eyes refused to look at his mother at her words.

“I don't even need to say her name, it's her, it will always be her.” she smiled as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.

“She's happy, Charles.'' he heard the sternness in his mothers voice.

“So everyone keeps telling me.” Charles scoffed again.

“So then you know you're being an ass, right?”

Charles' eyes widened at his mothers language but she just laughed and waved him off.

“After all the years she spent pining after you, Charles, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.”

“But what if I'm not happy?” he asked his mum, she just sent him a sympathetic smile and grazed his cheek once more.

“Do you love her?”

“I dont know.” Charles shrugged.

“See, it would be cruel to break her heart over this kind of uncertainty. Either you love her or you're just jealous. You have a lot of thinking to do my boy, but don't do anything until you're really sure. She's fragile when it comes to you.”

Charles nodded his head.

His mum was right, he really did have a lot of thinking to do.

And as if on queue there she was, walking into the kitchen, the widest smile on her face as she grabbed another beer from the fridge. She had started to let her curls rome free recently and it was sending charles’ heart into a spiral, with her stupid little shorts and crocs and no doubt she had conned lando into giving her his jumper.

She used to do that to him, Charles thought, remembering all the times you had tricked him into stealing his hoodies.

She smiled at Charles mum and told her again that the food was lovely, nodding at Charles, and she left just as quick as she came in.

“Maman, I'm so in love with her it physically hurts me.”

And there it was, the words you had so desperately wanted to hear your whole life, but you didn't hear a sound as Charles vowed to never say it again out loud. Your happiness came before his.

Charle suffered for a year, he knew he loved you, he had said it out loud once and the vulnerability he felt in that moment knowing you were stood just 15 feet away with the boy you were in love with was enough to make him swear to never voice his feelings again, he was embarrassed and wanted the world to swallow him whole. The worst part was the guilt, he could only feel like he had let one of the best things go, slip straight from his grasp all for a bit of pride. He didn't want to be seen with the young naive girl that had a crush on him, but now he just felt stupid. Stupid that he didn't recognise your love for him sooner, he had always thought you were one of the most amazing humans he had ever met, he found himself looking for you in other people when he didn't even know it. He was stupid, and he knew that for sure.

Charles dedicated the rest of the year to focusing on his f1 seat, with ferrari fucking him and sebastian over and over and after his wins at spa and monza he felt hungry for more and felt that the true love of his life should be formula one.

But his heart hurt when he didn't hear from you after his win in spa, and then it crushed him again when you didn't contact him after his result at monza.

No call.

Not even a text.

He had fully let you slip from his grasp.

It was a long year for Charles that year, and as summer break quickly approached he found girls and training were his favourite pastime. He stopped turning up to family events when he knew lando would be there and you were in love and happy. After a while it was a rarity he would even stay at an event for an hour.

He was 22 and as a new season started the only thing he was talking from lando was his teammate, not that charles was complaining. He liked Carlos, and he was ready to step up and take that 1st driver's seat. He was ready to make everyone proud just like you had promised him that night on the beach.

After a while charles mothers birthday rolled around, one he would definitely not miss as his mother requested a small family meal. Everyone was sitting, looking over the menu when Charles undoubtedly noticed the missing presence of you.

“Where's y/n?” Charles asked Lorenzo, who was sitting next to him.

Lorenzo just shrugged and turned his attention back to his menu, was it normal for you to not attend family outings? Charles hadn't been around for so long he didn't even think to consider that maybe she didn't turn up to these things anymore either.

“With Lando I suppose.” Charles murmured, he tried not to sound jealous but the older brother just laughed.

“Lando?” as he turned to his younger brother.

“Why would she- you really haven't spoken to her have you?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes widening at the thought of his brother being so dumb.

Charles just shrugged his shoulders as he urged his brother to continue.

“They broke up, a while ago actually.”

Charles didnt know why his shoulders felt lighter but he chose to ignore it and try to press some more information out of his brother.

“So? First break up, we've all been there, doesn't mean she can't be here for mamans birthday.'' Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to act like he didn't care.

“She's not even in the country charles.”

Charles' head snapped towards his brothers, “She's taking a gap year, last I heard she was staying in Australia for a while.”

Lorenzo could see the gears turning in charles’ head; he knew he wanted to ask more so he answered for him.

“Hey Arthur, where's y/n these days?” Lorenzo asked his other brother who was at the other end of the table with his girlfriend.

Arthur shrugged before answering, “Still in australia at the moment, she really likes it there, but i told her she cant like it to much because there's no way i'm sitting on a plane for twelve hours every time i want to actually see her face and not on a phone screen.” arthur joked, everyone else laughed along with him for a moment until charles countered up the courage to speak up.

“Why didn't she just travel with formula one? She wanted to be an F1 journalist anyway.”

Arthur's eyes narrowed at his brother.

You definitely hadn't meant to cause it, but there was a small crack in between the brothers' relationship within the last year. Arthur definitely blamed Charles and his stupid effects on you for you running away.

“She wanted to be away from f1 for a while.'' Arthur told his brother like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, hoping to squash this table subject, not really wanting to talk about his run away best friend.

“I mean I don't blame her, especially when her Lando ended like it did. She's living her best life.” Carla, Arthurs girlfriend chimed in. Arthur slightly winced at his girlfriend's words not wanting this to be the dinner conversation tonight, especially when Charles clearly knew nothing about y/n's life within the last year.

“What?'' Charles asked the table, but no one answered him, instead everyone's heads were down dead planted down at the table, everyone except for Carla who had no idea what she had just started.

“Why did no one tell me what's been going on?” charles raised his voice slightly, catching the attention from everyone else on the table.

Charles mother intervened knowing where this was going, “charles, not right now-”

“No, she's been going through something and no one even thought to mention it? What the fuck.”

Arthur was visibly turning red, Charles noticed as Lorenzo's head was shaking telling his little brother now wasn't the time, pleading Arthur to just bite his tongue.

“Say it arthur.”

The flame was lit.

“And who do you think upset her in the first place, charles?” Arthur tutted, picking up his menu pretending to scan it so he didn't have to pay attention to the conversation anymore.

“Drop it, arthur.” Lorenzo sternly interrupted.

“Considering no ones told me anything how the fuck am i supposed to answer that question?” Charles spat back at his brother.

Arthurs cheeks were a visible red now, he was about to blow up. Something he had been holding in for a while. He slammed his menu down and turned to look at his older brother.

“You know what Charles, you have no right! No fucking right, sorry maman for the language-” charles mum just put her hands up in defence as she let her youngest son get it all off his chest.

“She loved you, and you constantly broke her heart and told her no and then when she was finally happy in a relationship you had to go tell the world you love her so much that ‘it physically hurts you!” Arthur mugged his brother's words.

Charles was shocked, he had no idea what was happening.

No one knew of his feelings towards you, no one except- charles head snapped towards his mother who pulled a tight lip smile and just shaked her head in a no. Charles was about to deny deny deny when-

“Yeah, she heard it. And it fucking broke her charles. It was mean and it was selfish, and I've never despised someone more than you for what you did to MY best friend.”

“Arthur-”

“I'm not finished. Then you have the decency to finally come to a family meal for the first time in nearly a year, nearly a year charles! And ask about her like you didn't completely cut her and us out of your life? You're selfish, completely and utterly selfish charles.”

Charles sat at the table pale, he felt the colour drain from his face as he scrambled to find the words to say but his mouth didn't open.

“You really do pick and choose your moments brother, I don't know why I even came tonight, I'm sorry maman but I told you I wouldn't be able to sit in a room with him.”

Arthur stood up, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and took Carla's hand in the other.

“I'm really sorry maman, and everyone else, happy birthday, i guess.” Arthur gave his mother a hug and walked out of the restaurant with carla. Leaving everyone else at the table in pure shock.

Especially Charles, he had know idea what to say, he looked up at his mother opposite him who looked at him with sympathy.

“My sweet boy, I'm sorry to say it but there was some truth to your brother's words. I told you she was fragile.”

Charles felt awful.

Charles felt like he was going to cry at the table.

It had been a long year for Charles, he had groveld for the most of it, thinking you were happy somewhere while Lando flew you anywhere and everywhere around the world. Now he came to think of it, maybe there was a better reason for the young mclaren driver avoiding him.

He wasn't really friends with Lando, but his teammate, Carlos was close with the boy and whenever there was an offer for the three of them to hang out Lando magically had something come up and couldn't attend.

It all made sense now. Even the fact he hadn't seen you in the paddock, he thought maybe you were caught up in your studies, oh how he was wrong.

He sat at the table for the rest of the meal, and with every passing comment he didn't think he could sink more into his chair.

He was an awful person, he thought.

When the family were leaving the restaurant Charles hugged his family members, swallowing the anxiety and embarrassment down.

He looked over at Lorenzo who sent him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Tonight wasn't supposed to go like that, i told arthur to just drop it i-”

“No, it's okay. I deserved it.”

“I dont know, you fucked up, but you didnt need to run, nether did she.'' Lorenzo, his older brother shrugged.

“What happened? With her and lando." Charles pushed.

“alot .” lorezono chucked.

“I don't know if it's my place to-” enzo sighed at that stupid little puppy dog face his younger brother was pulling.

“I'm pretty sure she cheated on him, Arthur said as she fell into a bit of a hole. So the only thing she really could do was just leave Monaco for a while. She seems good, Charles, healthy and happy." Lorenzo shrugged, watching as Charles' eyes widened and he latched onto every word.

“If it's any closure she's not mad at you, Arthur, well I'm sure he would be he loves y/n like a twin sister, but she's not mad at you. She was just confused and hurt.”

“If i call her-'' Charles started but his voice flattened as he realised it would ne dumb to contact you.

“Call her Charles, I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you.”

You knew what today was, arthur's molthers birthday. You had called her in the morning sending her your love and wishes, she told you that Charles was attending the meal and Arthur would be on his best behaviour, little did you know.

You wondered if Charles knew what you were up to, if pascal or lorenzo had been keeping him in the loop.

You were at the beach, cocktail in hand and book in the other, your earphones were in as you hummed to the faint sound of the music and read, but you were disturbed when the rigging was a call from your phone echoing through your earphones, charles.

Pick it up.

You couldn't do it.

Your body froze in place, you pulled your airpods out, throwing down your book, not caring that you lost the page you were on. You took in a deep breath and picked up your phone, and just as your thumb hovered over the answer button, the ringing stopped.

He had called you?

You needed a moment to think about what you were going to say to him, what he would say.

You so desperately wanted to hear his voice, it had been a year, and you wondered if that was enough time for feelings to vanish.

You looked out at the calm seas for a moment, did you really want to fall back into a loop of pining for him like a puppy. You loved him, loved, past tense. You were a grown woman now, so you opened your phone and called him back.

Ringing.

“Hello?” his voice echoed through the phone.

“Charles?”

You heard his sigh of relief over the phone, and your heart melted all over again, he hadn't even spoken yet, but the closeness of his presence made it all too real.

“I'm sorry.”

He's sorry?

“Charles-”

“I'm sorry, okay. Arthurs right, I was mean and I was selfish and you deserved so much more than what I did to you. From the bottom of my heart y/n/n, I'm so so incredibly sorry.”

“It's- it's okay.”

You forgave him.

“It's not.”

There was a silence that lingered for a moment.

“What I said, what you heard, it wasn't supposed to happen like that. I really didn't want it to happen that way.” he pleaded over the phone, his breathy voice echoing through the speaker.

“I want to see you.”

More silence.

“Please, y/n.”

“Okay.”

More silence.

“Soon, okay.” There was promise to your words.

“Soon.” he repeated, as though it was something for him to hold onto.

Soon.

“When I'm ready Charles I'll come home, I'm just not ready yet.” you winced at your own words because you so desperately wanted to see him too.

“Then don't come home- i'll come to you, i'll catch the next plane if i have too just tell me where you are-”

“Charles, I'm not ready yet.” you interrupted him.

Silence.

Charles wanted to cry, hearing your voice and knowing you were just within reach he wanted to see you, hold you, apologise as much as you would allow him to. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and love you forever, but you weren't ready.

“I'll wait for you, okay? Soon or not.” his voice cracked, and god did it melt your heart.

“I'll see you soon charlie.”

This was feeling a little too much like a goodbye for charles.

“y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I too late?’

“Time doesn't apply when it comes to you.” and Charles had hope. He hadn't fully let you slip, yet.

Charles would now spend every waking moment wondering how soon was soon?

But after a while he figured ‘soon’ was a little long, three more months to be precise.

You had left Australia, travelled around more like you wanted to, and you came back to Monaco just before the end of the f1 season.

Charles was already in Abu Dhabi by the time you landed back in monaco.You had asked everyone to not tell him of your arrival.

You were sitting with Arthur in his mothers living room, just like the old days. You told him about your travels while he updated you on his love life and gossip in the paddock.

You had missed this.

And it wasn't until pascal passed you a warm cup of tea and sat with the two of you, sharing her own gossip from the hair salon you realised how much you were ready to be home again.

Arthur had run to his room quickly to grab his trophies to show you and as he walked out of the room your eyes lingered on the suitcases by the door.

“You're going to Abu dhabi?” you asked pascal.

“Tomorrow.” she smiled at you.

Pascal could visibly see the gears turning in your head, she placed a hand on your knee and smiled up at you.

“I don't want to pressure you y/n, and i know you just got back but you should consider it.”

You knew what she meant and you nodded at her with a small smile, and Arthur came back.

You went home a few hours later and sat in your room, if you go you'll see him, but you're going to see him at some point regardless.

You felt vulnerable.

So completely scared, but that didn't stop you from texting Arthur that night telling him you were going to join him and his family tomorrow.

You were going to see him.

Your time was up.

You were ready.

You meet up with the leclerc family at the airport in the early hours of the morning, your suitcase gripped in your hand as you were mentally preparing yourself to sit on the plane and go over any and every possible outcome this weekend could have.

Arthur sat with Carla at the front, and Pascal was fast asleep. But the chair next to you suddenly became occupied when you looked up and saw the eldest leclerc.

“You look well, y/n.” he smiled down at you.

“Thank you.” you smiled back at lorenzo.

“I think the time away did you good, no?”

“yeah, i really needed some space, but now i'm back and just feeling a little..” you stumbled on your words, struggling to describe your emotions.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“Does he know you're coming?” you knew the ‘he’ lorenzo was referring too.

“I dont think so.”

“He's going to be happy to see you.” lorenzo nudged your shoulder.

“I hope so.” you nervously chucked.

You took in a deep breath and looked back at the eldest leclerc brother, “I'm just anxious, I have no idea how this weekend will pan out. The next time I'll be back on this plane going home I could be happy, sad, crying or planning to run away again. I just feel so lost.”

“Lost isn't a bad thing.'' Lorenzo shrugged.

“He's just as lost as you y/n, trust me. I just hope you both figure it out, you both deserve the peace of mind. And if this all goes to shit, you still got on this plane today and tried.”

“I just don't want to get my hopes up.”

“Then don't, sometimes things aren't just meant to be.”

That's what was worrying, you had loved this man for years, and now was the deciding day if he loved you back or not and you don't know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him

being the love of your life up yet.

You weren't mentally prepared for the shit outcome of this story, you didn't know if you could handle Charles breaking your heart another time.

When the plane landed and the warm air hit your skin you took in a deep breath. Time to face the music.

You went straight to your hotel, it was a Friday so Charles was about to participate in fp1 by the time you turned up to the track.

The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of happy fans filled your ears, you had missed being in the paddock more than you knew. This place was your home.

You were walking with Arthur and Carla when your name was called, judging by the accent you knew it wasn't the monegasque, it was the papaya coloured boy running up to you.

You told Arthur and Carla you would catch up with them as you stopped and smiled at lando who had now reached you.

“Hey.” he smiled.

“Hey.” you smiled back awkwardly.

“Listen lando, you deserve an explanation-”

“It's okay y/n, we were young, it was a while ago you’re forgiven.” Lando chuckled as he poked your shoulder.

“But that doesn't mean what I did was okay, you deserve more than what I gave you.”

Lando gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Consider it done with, okay? No hard feelings.”

You smiled up at the British boy, he looked good, he seemed well and that made your guilt feel a little less painful.

“I erm, I have a girlfriend actually, she's great, her names luisa.”

You watched as he lips upturned at the mention of his girlfriend, he was smitten.

“I'm happy for you landini.”

You both laughed for a moment, the free air was nice. Seeing lando meant there was a weight lifted off your shoulders.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing, I didn't want things to be awkward.” he said.

“I don't think I could ever be awkward around you.” Lando smiled at your words.

“Are you still thinking about becoming an F1 journalist?” he asked, remembering how it was your dream, he had also hoped your disappearance in the paddock for the last year wasn't his doing, stopping you from reaching your dream.

You smiled as he remembered, “I'm working on it.”

“Well i hope i see you around more often then, you deserve it y/n, really.”

Lando was getting called from the other end of the paddock as he had to be in his car within the next 10 minutes, you both shared a hug and it felt nice to feel comfortable with him.

His hands squeezed your back before saying a quick bye and skipping down the paddock.

As he pulled away and walked past, your eyes connected with them all to familiar grey ones you were so nervous to see.

Charles.

He didn't seem too happy though.

He had just watched you smile and laugh with your ex in the middle of the paddock and then hug him bye, even though you thought nothing of it, Charles' mind was spinning.

There he was, a tight lipped smile right opposite you. He had grown out his stubble and he looked tired. You knew he hadn't had the best of seasons with Ferrari, you didn't keep up with it too much, it upset you that his childhood team had failed him massively.

He nodded his head and followed his press officer in the opposite direction, but you weren't going to let him go just yet.

“Charles, wait!”

And before you could process it you were running, sprinting down the paddock after him, but he had already disappeared into ferrari hospitality.

“Shit.” you mumbled as you jogged down to the garages in hopes of catching up with him.

You scanned your pass and walked into the back of the garage Pascal had walked up to you and grabbed your hand.

“You need to put some headphones on dear, it gets loud in -”

“Pascal, where did he go?” you asked her frantically, like a mad woman out of breath.

“Charles?”

“yes!”

A slight smile just appeared on her face as she turned around, “Be quick dear, I think I can see him putting his balaclava on.” She pushed your shoulder and you walked around the red barrer that clearly said ‘no public entry’.

“You can't be back here, ma'am.” a security officer grabbed the back of your bicep.

“No, I need to get through, it's an emergency.” you whined, pulling your arm from his grip.

“I'm sorry ma’am, it's a safety hazard.” the man's grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you away from the back of the garage. You pushed off him but his grip only improved as he swept you off the floor, lifting you up at your attempt to run. You kicked your legs like a child learning to swim and kicked arms that trapped you.

“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have no choice but to remove you from the garage.” he said, trying to dodge your feisty little kicks.

“And If you don't get your slimy huge hands off me right now i'm going to-”

“y/n?!”

Your head snapped at the sound of your name, Jorris, Charles' best friend.

“Jorris, oh thank god!”

“She's okay, she can come in.” Jorris grabbed your other hand and wiggled you away from the huge security man's grip as he dropped you back to the floor. You brushed off your dress and gave the security man a dirty look before turning to Charles' best mate.

“Jorris, where is he?” your breathing was rapid and your heart beat feeling like it was thumping out your chest.

“y/n you really shouldn't.” he sent you a sympathetic smile.

“Please.” you pleaded with him. After seeing you try to fight a six foot five security man Joris really didn't want to feel the wrath of you right now, so he complied.

“You have five minutes, follow me.” he led you through the back of the garage.

Whenever Charles got in the car he liked to be left alone to his own devices, it was his switch off time, but you knew on some occasions he didn't mind the company, you just needed to talk to him, tell him you were here for him. You didn't want him getting in the car overthinking that you were here for lando.

And before you knew it, there he was, standing in front of you, you were painting out of breath with your hands on your knees as you looked up at him.

Charles giggled as you held up a finger to let him know you were still getting your breath back. He pulled his ear pieces out of his ear and zipped up the rest of his race suit.

“I hate to rush you, but I have to be in the car in four minutes.” Charles frowned, “and four minutes aren't enough for what I have to say to you, y/n.”

“Let's keep it short and sweet then.” you stood up straight and smiled at the boy.

“Im sor-” he started but you cut him off.

“That's not what I meant by sweet.”

Charles squeezed his eyes and winced at his name being called behind him, he opened his eyes and saw you beaming up at him and he knew he was in love, he just wasn't going to tell you yet, especially not if he had just witnessed you make up with lando. Lando made you happy, Lando didn't break your heart on multiple occasions like he had. Charles wouldn't blame you if you went back to the British driver.

You tilted your head to the left and smiled at Chris, Charles' manager. He was pointing at his watch and tapping his foot.

You looked back at Charles and took in a deep breath, you stood on your tip toes and placed your arms on his shoulders, gently placing a kiss to his cheek.

Your soft lips connecting with his ruff stubble is something Charles cherished, he couldn't wipe the Cheshire cat grin off his face.

“I know it's only a practice session, but good luck out there charlie.”

“Thank you.” he smiled, trying to hide his blush. He couldn't believe he was blushing and how the roles had reversed between the two of you.

“What about lando?” he had to ask, it was on his mind.

“I'm not standing next to Lando wishing him good luck right now, am i?” you smirked at him.

Charles smiled before looking back at his manager, he bent down and kissed your forehead like he had done a thousand times, but this time it felt different, electric, it felt like love. It was love.

“I'll be waiting for you, okay?” you told him.

Charles smiled to himself, he wasn't too late.

If anything was on Charles' side that day it wasnt timing. Charles finished fp2 with a few flying laps and a heavy heart, his first plan was to find you but his press officer had forced him to do interviews, and then he had a meeting and then he had checked his watch and it was way past nine and he knew you were probably back at the hotel by now.

He huffeed as he left his meeting, grabbing his jumper and keys and saying goodbye to the engineers that were going to work on the car overnight.

He had it all planned in his head, he was going to get some flowers on the way home, knock on your hotel door and ask you on a date.

“Charles!” called out his manager, he really hoped he didn't have to stay in this hell hole any longer, he just wanted to leave the track and get his girl.

“What?” he huffed.

“She waited.”

“What?” Charles repeated, his manager now having his full attention.

Charles caught the way his manager's lips turned into a devilish smirk, but he wasn't looking at Charles, yet something behind him. When he whipped his head around there you were, his heart thumped at the massively oversized ferrari jacket one of the staff must have given you to keep you warm while you waited.

You just smiled at him and waited for him to walk to you, but charles sprinted, he was a man on a mission and when he got to you his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you up in the air for a moment before he dropped you back down, his hands still remaining tightly wrapped around your torso.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing his forehead on yours.

“Take what's yours charlie.” you smiled.

Charles' thumb gently traced over your plump bottom lip before he placed his hand on your cheek, smiling like an idiot.

He slowly grazed his lips on your before gently adding pressure and connecting your soft lips with his in a quick kiss. A kiss that was full of smiles as Charles pulled you as close to him as possible. Towering over you as he kissed you unlike he had kissed anyone ever. The way your lips moved in sync with his was magic to him, it had never felt like this before.

He pulled back letting you get some air, before using that as leverage to stick his tongue in your mouth, he put all his power and passion into the kiss and it was just as you imagined him to be with you. Sensual and passionate.

Your hands ran along his shoulders and up to his head where you gently tucked on his hair. Charles groned on your lips and eventually pulled back, he giggled as he placed his forehead on yours again.

“All mine, finally.” He said through a wide smile.

“I've always been yours…”

Thank you for reading!! Here’s a gif of baby Charles because this is how i imagined him when y/n had her teenage crush. Bare faced and spiky hair🥹

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chemicalreal · 3 months

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Viserys is just as despicable as Daemon and Otto, except in a different way

It's weird enough how King Viserys is widely well seen by the audience despite his evident selfishness, which is perhaps one of the most pronounced traits throughout the show. This perception is predominantly fueled by Rhaenyra's camp, who views Viserys' unequal treatment of his children in her favor as a redeeming quality of his character.

The subtle detail of Rhaenyra eagerly desiring a sister while her mother is still pregnant often goes unnoticed, just like her displease of the life she is supposed to endure going through many difficult pregnancies. Her strong insistence that it will be a girl contrasts with her father's wishes, hinting at an awareness of the changing dynamics within the royal family in case a boy is born. Despite spending her early years as the king's only child, the frequent pregnancies of Rhaella imply the king's persistent efforts to secure a male heir to the throne.

Therefore, Rhaenyra is effectively being sidelined as a potential heir in favor of a yet-to-be-born phantom brother. The king's intense desire for a male heir leads him to make the drastic decision of sacrificing his own wife during childbirth. While it's understandable that a mother would prioritize her child's life over her own, the scene becomes disturbing due to Aemma's clear distress and pleas for help let alone the fact that she was literally cut open while being awake, highlighting the king's unwavering determination that will lead to others suffering and this is a leit motive for the rest of his life, be it physically or emotionally.

The claim that Viserys, a now seasoned king, was manipulated by a teenager into marriage is one of the most absurd ones in this fandom, especially if we take into account how Alicent is portrayed. In reality, it was another self-centered choice driven by his own desires. Alicent, despite being urged by her ambitious father to seduce the grieving king (much to her horror), maintains the demeanor of a respectable lady. During her time with Viserys, the focus is on shared interests such as history and books, creating a dynamic more akin to a father spending time with his daughter. Alicent even mends the temporary rift between him and Rhaenyra giving him genuine advice. Viserys undoubtedly married Alicent out of his own desire, not coercion as some suggest. The scene where he announces it reveals Alicent's almost shocked reaction, indicating her lingering hope that he might not proceed with the idea. If Viserys were a virtuous man, he would have found Alicent a suitable match with a respected lord to acknowledge her services and simultaneously spite her father's ulterior motives.

Viserys continues to treat Alicent as an object throughout their marriage, often demanding her to fulfill his physical needs, even after he is plagued by illness and Alicent shown to be visibly uncomfortable because of it. After a somewhat "honeymoon" phase, which is still marred by a strained relationship between Alicent and Rhaenyra which puts the former in isolation despite her efforts to show support for her as the heir, Viserys is suddenly consumed by guilt for his actions towards Aemma. At this point, Alicent and their son Aegon (and by consequence their future three children) cease to exist for him. It's important to highlight that despite this epiphany and subsequent emotional neglect, Viserys' requests for physical intimacy with Alicent persist, which only makes him more of an hypocrite who still can't help but indulge in his selfish needs at the expense of others.

Viserys' insensitivity towards Alicent is further emphasized when Daemon returns to King's Landing and both he and Viserys mock Alicent's attempts at conversation about the new tapestries. Even Rhaenyra is visibly appalled by their behavior and chooses to support Alicent to prevent her from feeling humiliated. The temporary resumption of friendship between the two women adds layers to their tragedy, as their later falling out is ultimately induced by the men who view them merely as tools of power.

In addition to Daemon's emotional hold on Rhaenyra that will lead to their scandalous marriage, Otto's influence over Alicent, and his manipulative schemes, Viserys perpetuates the conflict through his inaction and convenient stance in the middle ground. He neglects his other children, projecting guilt towards Aemma onto them and Alicent. While he outwardly shows love and favoritism for Rhaenyra and ignores her infractions, it seems more like a projection of guilt rather than genuine support, as he fails to take concrete steps to legitimize her ascension, especially now with the presence of sons. Viserys' actions ultimately work against Rhaenyra's favor, rather than supporting her. His handling of the family feud after Laena's funeral closes the door for any potential reconciliation between the queen and the princess.

The truce dinner in episode 8 is unmistakably a ticking time bomb. The Rubicon was crossed years ago, but Viserys prefers to maintain the illusion of a happy family, akin to the illusion of Alicent being Aemma, for his own peace of mind. Rather than addressing the underlying issues, he opts to create a facade to avoid dealing with the potential chaos of his family members turning against each other once he is gone.

In conclusion, Viserys embodies those problematic people who often evade accountability for their actions due to their seemingly kind and sympathetic demeanor. His ability to project an amiable facade masks the deeper issues and consequences of his decisions, allowing him to avoid the scrutiny he might otherwise face.

#viserys targaryen #king viserys #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #aemma targaryen #queen alicent #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #prince daemon targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #anti viserys i targaryen #otto hightower #asoiaf #just a rant

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burningvelvet · 5 months

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being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide

walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration

be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father.

speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them.

be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)

consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.

reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians.

if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife.

speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.

if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.

After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.

If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.

If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can.

DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.

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zapreportsblog · 9 months

Note

Hi, so, I'd like to request a one shot with Billy and Stu x Reader who looks cute and innocent, she can even trick them into thinking she's a sweet lamb, they are kinda friends? Like, the boys like to hang around her house, since she's almost always alone, and they watch horror movies together and all, Billy being creepy as always and Stu weirdly cute. Anyways, she looks so sweet and innocent, but, in reality, she has some dark thoughts and when a guy from school treats her bad or something like that (I'm think of her bing like a hidden Pearl) she kills him, but no one knows, after that she starts to go into a killing spree and the boys get worried she'll be a victim of this new killer, until they catch her killing, being stained with blood. I'd love if you could write it, so thanks ❤️ (English is not my first language, so sorry for any grammar error)

Oh no this was perfect so even if English isn’t your first language I got what you had in mind

↳ devil in disguise ↲

✭ pairing : billy loomis x reader x stu macher

✭ fandom : scream

✭ summary : billy loomis and stu macher befriend the new girl, there something about the innocence in her that has them wanting to keep her close, but what they don’t know is that underneath all that innocence is a psycho killer watching and building up.

✭ authors note : this will be pretty fucking long let’s be honest but I hope you enjoy :)

Appearances can be deceiving, a truth that resonates throughout the intricate tapestry of human nature. In the complex dance of life, the most innocent of individuals often harbor the potential for both light and darkness, a duality that echoes the very essence of existence.

Beneath the gentle facade of a kind smile, the spark of laughter, or the softness of a touch, lies a spectrum of emotions and desires that can lead down paths both virtuous and treacherous. Each person is a canvas painted with shades of morality, their choices a brushstroke that can create beauty or chaos, depending on the journey they choose to undertake.

The predator lurking within, the shadow of primal instincts, is a reminder that human beings are products of evolution, shaped by eons of survival instincts and genetic predispositions. In the heart of every individual, there exists a part that craves power, control, or fulfillment, a yearning that can manifest as ambition, passion, or even obsession.

Yet, it is important to recognize that the coexistence of light and darkness within us is not inherently sinister. It is a reflection of the human experience, a reminder that every choice is a crossroads, offering the potential for change, growth, and transformation. The predator within can propel us forward, driving us to achieve our goals, protect our loved ones, and forge our destinies.

In a world where appearances often mask the intricacies of the human soul, it becomes crucial to acknowledge the duality that resides within each of us. By embracing both our capacity for kindness and our susceptibility to darker urges, we gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and those around us. The predator lurking within can serve as a cautionary tale, a reminder of the importance of self-awareness, empathy, and the conscious choice to channel our instincts toward the betterment of ourselves and society.

Ultimately, the dichotomy of light and darkness within us mirrors the complexity of the world we inhabit. It is a testament to the richness of the human experience, the endless potential for growth, and the ever-present opportunity to shape our narratives, whether we tread the path of the predator or harness the power of our inner light.

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting its golden rays over the idyllic small town of Woodsboro. In the heart of the town, the high school's courtyard was a hub of activity, a place where friendships were forged and teenage dramas played out against the backdrop of lockers and laughter.

Stu Macher and Billy Loomis, the quintessential charismatic duo, leaned casually against the fountain. Their respective girlfriends, Tatum Riley and Sidney Prescott, stood nearby, laughter and conversations weaving a tapestry of youthful energy.

"Hey, ladies," Stu greeted with a grin, his bleached-blond hair catching the sunlight.

Billy's dark eyes sparkled as he echoed the sentiment, "Looking good as always."

As the quartet exchanged banter and shared glances, a figure caught their attention. Randy Meeks, known for his encyclopedic knowledge of horror movies and his perpetual enthusiasm, approached with a wide grin that stretched from ear to ear. At his side was a girl who looked almost ethereal—a new face in a town where everyone knew everyone else.

"(Y/N), meet the gang," Randy said with exuberance, presenting the girl to the group.

(Y/N) stood shyly, her presence an aura of innocence and warmth. Her eyes were like open books, wide and filled with curiosity as she took in her surroundings. A white dress, loose yet gracefully hugging her figure, accentuated her delicate beauty. The boys, Billy and Stu, exchanged glances that spoke volumes—here was someone who radiated innocence and gentleness.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Tatum greeted with a friendly smile, extending a welcoming hand.

Sidney's eyes held a soft kindness as she added, "Nice to meet you."

"(Y/N)," Stu's voice was friendly, his grin never faltering.

But it was Billy who couldn't tear his gaze away. In his eyes, (Y/N) appeared as if she could do no wrong—a portrait of purity in a world where darkness often lurked. Her eyes reminded him of Bambi's, wide and open, untouched by the harsh realities of life.

"Hi," (Y/N) responded, her voice soft and sweet, as if her words were a whisper carried by the wind.

As the introductions and pleasantries continued, a sense of intrigue filled the air. The new girl was like a breath of fresh air, and the boys found themselves captivated by her presence. Billy's heart stirred, his curiosity piqued by the enigma that was (Y/N).

As the days stretched into a week, the dynamic between Billy, Stu, and (Y/N) began to evolve. To the casual observer, it seemed like the boys were constantly bothering her, popping up unexpectedly and causing her to jump with exaggerated "scares." (Y/N)'s jumpy nature only seemed to fuel their amusement, and they reveled in the opportunity to tease her.

"(Y/N), you really need to work on your reflexes," Stu teased, a wide grin playing on his lips.

Billy joined in, smirking, "Yeah, seriously, what are you so jumpy about?"

Inside, however, their thoughts took on a darker undertone. Each little expression that flickered across (Y/N)'s face was dissected in their minds, and they toyed with the idea of involving her in their sinister games. But deep down, they couldn't shake the notion that she was different, that her innocence was genuine, and that she deserved more than the fate they had planned for their victims.

One night, as they lounged around in Stu's living room, the topic of their potential victims came up, their voices hushed as they spoke of Ghostface's next target.

"You know, man, I've been thinking," Stu mused, his tone contemplative.

Billy's eyes met Stu's, curiosity gleaming within them. "About what?"

"(Y/N)," Stu replied, his voice surprisingly serious. "I mean, yeah, we've joked about her being our next victim, but... I don't know, there's something different about her."

Billy's brows furrowed in thought, his expression mirroring Stu's. "Yeah, I've been thinking the same thing. Her innocence... it's real, isn't it? I mean, it can't be faked."

Stu nodded, a somberness settling over them. "She's the only one in this school who doesn't put on a facade. I mean, just look at her. She's not trying to impress anyone or play games. She's just... herself."

As the two friends contemplated (Y/N)'s genuine nature, a decision began to crystallize within them. The idea of involving her in their deadly plans felt wrong, as if they were tainting something pure. The darkness within them seemed to clash with the light that (Y/N) exuded.

"Maybe she's the exception," Billy mused. "Maybe she deserves something better than what we had planned."

Stu's gaze was resolute. "I agree. We can't touch her. She's... untouchable."

And so, in the midst of their twisted games and hidden motives, (Y/N) emerged as a beacon of authenticity, a figure they couldn't bring themselves to tarnish. Their dark thoughts and desires were held at bay, overruled by the recognition that some innocence was too pure to be tainted.

As the days continued to unfold, the bond between Billy, Stu, and (Y/N) deepened, shaped by unspoken understanding and the realization that appearances could indeed be deceiving. In the shadows of their minds, they grappled with their own darkness while protecting the fragile light that (Y/N) represented—an innocence they couldn't bring themselves to shatter, even in the midst of their sinister games.

The bond between Billy, Stu, and (Y/N) deepened with every passing day, an unspoken connection that drew them together. As the days grew longer, they found themselves gravitating toward her house, seeking her company whenever they could. They had adopted a role of self-proclaimed bodyguards, protecting her from a danger she didn't even know was real.

"(Y/N), you seriously need to upgrade your horror movie tolerance," Stu laughed one evening, sprawled on the couch as a horror movie played on the TV screen.

"Yeah, seriously," Billy chimed in from the armchair, his eyes fixed on (Y/N) with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

Despite her jumping at some of the movie's more intense scenes, (Y/N) laughed, trying to play it off. "Hey, don't judge me. I'm just not used to all this scary stuff."

Stu grinned, an idea forming in his mind. "You know what would be fun? A horror movie marathon. We'll toughen you up."

Billy's eyes gleamed with a sinister amusement, his gaze lingering on (Y/N) as he added, "Yeah, that's a good idea. Get you ready for the real thing."

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), their intentions were far from innocent. In their twisted minds, they envisioned her as the ultimate victim—the damsel in distress they could play out their darkest fantasies with. Billy's creepy stares and Stu's vivid imagination blended seamlessly with their supposed role as protectors.

As the marathon continued, (Y/N) did her best to keep her composure, laughing off her jumps and enjoying the company of her friends. She glanced at Billy and Stu, both absorbed in the movie, their expressions revealing something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Hey, you guys aren't actually planning to scare me for real, are you?" (Y/N) quipped, a playful glint in her eye.

Billy's lips curled into a charming smile, masking his true thoughts. "Of course not, (Y/N). We're your protectors, remember?"

Stu's grin was genuine, his gaze softening as he added, "Yeah, we're not gonna let anything happen to you."

Despite the odd tension in the room, (Y/N) felt a genuine warmth emanating from them. The camaraderie they shared was precious to her, and their presence was a comfort amidst the backdrop of uncertainty.

As the days turned into weeks, (Y/N)'s interactions with Billy and Stu continued to deepen, their friendship a blend of innocence and darkness that seemed to mirror her own conflicted thoughts. Beneath her sweet exterior, a hidden pearl of darkness lay dormant, waiting for the right catalyst to awaken it.

One day, after school, (Y/N) found herself crossing paths with a guy from school who had treated her with disdain. His words had been sharp, his actions cruel, leaving a lingering bitterness within her. As she walked away, her fists clenched and her thoughts turned dark. Anger simmered beneath her surface, and a newfound resolve began to take hold.

That night, the moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the town. (Y/N) moved with a determination that belied her innocent appearance. Her actions were swift, her thoughts cold and calculated as she carried out a plan that would forever change the course of events.

The next day, news of the guy's death spread like wildfire. Whispers of foul play and shock resonated through the school corridors. Nobody suspected the innocent new girl, the one with wide eyes and a demeanor that seemed incapable of harm.

As the days turned into weeks, the incident faded into the background, but (Y/N)'s newfound darkness lingered within her. She grappled with the conflicting emotions that surged within, a duality that remained hidden from the world.

Billy and Stu watched from the shadows, unaware of (Y/N)'s secret but sensing a shift in her. They continued their roles as her protectors, the twisted bond between them growing stronger. Little did they know, they were not the only ones harboring darkness.

The trio continued to spend time together, their connection both genuine and unsettling. (Y/N)'s thoughts were a storm of conflicting desires, her actions a reflection of the hidden Pearl within her—a darkness that had tasted blood and now hungered for more.

In a town where appearances were often deceiving, (Y/N) navigated the delicate balance between innocence and darkness. The lines between right and wrong blurred as her hidden thoughts and actions remained shrouded in secrecy, while the world continued to see only the sweet, innocent new girl who could do no harm.

As (Y/N)'s dark inclinations grew, so did the trail of bodies left in her wake. The once-hidden pearl of darkness had been fully awoken, and her actions took on a chilling rhythm. Each victim was carefully chosen, their lives extinguished with a methodical precision that sent shivers down her own spine.

Billy and Stu, the twisted duo who had unknowingly played a role in (Y/N)'s descent into darkness, began to notice the change in her demeanor. Their concern grew as they realized that the one they had deemed untouchable was now capable of unspeakable acts. The irony was not lost on them—the protectors were now the ones who feared for her safety.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Billy's voice held a note of unease as he approached her one afternoon.

She smiled sweetly, her eyes glinting with a hidden intensity. "Of course, Billy. I'm fine."

Stu's eyes were sharp as he added, "You seem... different lately."

(Y/N)'s laughter was almost melodic, a stark contrast to the darkness that seemed to dance within her eyes. "Oh, just exploring new aspects of myself."

As the bodies continued to pile up, news of the new killer on the loose spread throughout the town. Fear and paranoia took hold, and Billy and Stu's concern for (Y/N) grew exponentially. They watched her closely, trying to discern the truth behind her smiles and the shifting shades within her gaze.

One evening, as they gathered at Stu's house, the topic of the killer came up once again. "(Y/N), have you heard about this new killer?" Stu asked, his tone casual.

She feigned innocence, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Oh, I've heard. It's terrible what's happening."

Billy's voice was strained as he pressed, "You haven't seen anything suspicious, have you?"

She met their gaze, her eyes a storm of hidden secrets. "Oh, nothing suspicious. Just a town gripped by fear."

The tension in the room was palpable, a silent recognition passing between them that (Y/N)'s dark thoughts were far more than they could have imagined. In their quest for power and control, they had inadvertently unleashed a force they couldn't fully comprehend.

As the days turned into nights, the town continued to reel from the new killer's actions. While the trail of bodies grew, (Y/N) remained a step ahead, her innocence a perfect mask for her true nature.

Billy and Stu's worry for her safety intensified, their twisted roles as protectors becoming a desperate attempt to shield her from a danger they were unaware she posed herself. In a chilling dance of fate, the lines between predator and prey blurred as (Y/N) navigated her dark path, leaving those around her to grapple with the realization that appearances could indeed be deceiving.

The tension in the air was thick as the night sky hung like a heavy curtain over the town. Billy and Stu's concern for (Y/N) had reached a fever pitch, each body that dropped heightening their anxiety. Their roles as protectors had been twisted beyond recognition, their concern evolving into a fear they dared not admit.

In the midst of their own murderous pursuits, the two boys stumbled upon a sight that shattered their perceptions. Moonlight cast an eerie glow on the scene before them—their sweet, innocent friend standing amidst the remnants of a fresh kill, her hands stained with blood.

Frozen in their tracks, Billy and Stu stared at (Y/N), their breath catching in their throats. A palpable tension hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the darkness that now bound them all together.

Stu was the first to break the silence, his voice a mixture of confusion and desperation. "What... What the hell, (Y/N)?"

(Y/N)'s gaze remained steady, her eyes holding a mix of defiance and something deeper, something that Billy and Stu struggled to grasp.

"Billy, Stu," she said softly, her voice carrying a weight that belied her innocent exterior. "I know you've been worried about me. But you don't need to be. I've always known what I am."

Billy's voice trembled as he managed to speak, but it wasn’t from fear. No, it was something else he was feeling his heart pounding in his chest. "What are you talking about, (Y/N)?"

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of (Y/N)'s lips, her eyes glinting with a chilling clarity. "Predators and prey, Billy. It's the natural order of things. Carnivores feed on herbivores. But there are also omnivores—predators that feed on both."

Stu's confusion was etched across his face as he demanded, "What does that have to do with anything?"

(Y/N)'s gaze turned piercing as she took a step forward, her presence exuding an aura of both danger and inevitability. "I'm an omnivore, Stu. A predator that feeds on everyone and everything. It's just the way I am."

The stand-off continued, a twisted tableau of secrets, revelations, and darkness. The boundaries between their roles as predators and protectors had blurred, leaving them all to confront a reality they had never anticipated.

Stu's hand trembled as he reached up and pulled off his Ghostface mask, his expression a mix of vulnerability and confusion. "Why, (Y/N)? Why are you doing this?"

(Y/N)'s smile was haunting, her words carrying the weight of centuries of history. "Because, Stu, it's survival of the fittest. The world is full of predators and prey, and I've chosen to be a predator."

Billy's fingers gently grazed (Y/N)'s cheek, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. His eyes were filled with mischief as he moved her hair to the side, tucking it behind her ear. With a smirk playing on his lips, he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You enjoy that, don't you?" he said, his words dripping with anticipation. "The thrill of killing."

(Y/N) stared up at him, her Bambi-like eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. She nodded slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. It was a dark secret she had kept hidden from the world, a part of herself she had never fully embraced until now.

Stu, having observed the exchange, stepped forward after a moment of contemplation. He moved silently, his presence sending shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. As he stood behind her, his body pressed against hers, an unexpected warmth spread through her veins.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. The embrace was both comforting and electrifying, a mix of tenderness and danger. (Y/N) found herself leaning into him, her breath catching as she surrendered to the darkness within.

Together, the trio began to explore the depths of their twisted desires. A newfound bond formed, fueled by their shared secrets and the thrill of the unknown. They reveled in the chaos they created, leaving a trail of darkness in their wake.

As the nights grew longer and their actions more audacious, (Y/N) realized she had found her true family. In Billy and Stu, she had discovered kindred spirits who understood her in ways no one else ever could.

Their connection went beyond the realm of friendship. It was a dark and wicked love, forged in blood and mayhem. They would stand together, united in their pursuit of chaos, forever entangled in each other's embrace.

And so, (Y/N) embraced her dark side fully, relishing in the exhilaration of the hunt, and finding solace in the arms of those who shared her twisted desires.

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ckret2 · 5 months

Text

Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!

The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:

It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.

####

Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"

A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."

"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"

"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"

Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."

"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"

"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."

Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."

"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.

Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"

"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."

Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"

Bill blinked. "Who?"

"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."

"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"

"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.

Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.

Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"

"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"

Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"

Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.

Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.

Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.

The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.

"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."

"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."

"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.

"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.

But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."

Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.

Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.

"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."

Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"

Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"

Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"

The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"

Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."

"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"

Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"

Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.

"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"

"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.

"Donations?"

Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.

Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."

Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"

Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."

"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"

Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.

"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"

"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.

"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."

"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."

"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"

Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"

Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"

Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"

"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"

"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"

Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.

Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"

"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.

Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."

"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."

Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.

Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.

Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?

Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"

"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"

"English class, I know."

Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."

Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.

"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"

"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."

"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"

Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"

Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"

"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade probably didn't hurt, did it."

Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.

"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"

Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"

A pause. "I think I need help!"

"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.

The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.

Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"

"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."

Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."

"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".

Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."

Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"

"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."

Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.

By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.

And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."

Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.

They shut the door.

"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."

Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"

"Please."

They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"

####

A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"

"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"

Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"

A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"

Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."

Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"

"Eh, I'm not picky."

"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"

Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"

Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."

"Hey."

Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.

"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."

As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"

"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."

Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"

The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"

"Nope!"

Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.

"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."

"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.

Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.

Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"

"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.

Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.

She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."

"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.

Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."

"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."

Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."

"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."

Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."

Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."

"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."

"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"

"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"

Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"

"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"

"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."

"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.

The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.

Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.

Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.

As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.

Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.

He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."

"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."

"Good for her!"

Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"

"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."

"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."

"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."

They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."

Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."

Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"

####

During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."

"And...?"

"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."

Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."

"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."

"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"

Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."

And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.

####

Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."

"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"

"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."

Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"

"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."

Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...

Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.

Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.

Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.

Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.

But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"

"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.

Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"

A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"

Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.

Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"

"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."

Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."

Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.

"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"

Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"

Ford Frowned.

"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"

Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.

Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"

Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."

Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.

Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."

"I heard 'we like you'!"

"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."

Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."

"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."

Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.

"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.

Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."

"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."

"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"

Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."

Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."

He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.

"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"

Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"

"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."

"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"

"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"

Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."

"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"

Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."

Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.

Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.

He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."

"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."

Ford gingerly shut the window.

Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."

"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"

"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.

He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.

He stared into the dark after it.

A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.

But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.

Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.

The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.

Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."

"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."

"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.

"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."

Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.

But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.

(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)

Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.

Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"

"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."

"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.

"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"

Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"

"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"

Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."

Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"

The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.

####

Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.

Bill was nauseous.

He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor.

Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.

But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.

When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say.

(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.

He missed home.

####

(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)

#(tbh that's the best Mabel & Dipper I've ever drawn)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #(for both the art & fic)#grunkle ford #grunkle stan #(for just the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

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moonjxsung · 1 year

Text

Not Allowed

TV GIRL / NOT ALLOWED

⇢ Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader

⇢ Summary: You and Felix are childhood friends turned fwb, with no strings attached. Felix leaves to pursue his idol dreams, and you begin your life as a college student. When he comes back to visit your town, he’s drawn to you again- but you’re both leading very different lives.

⇢ Warning: smut lol

⇢ W/c: 15k?

⇢ A/n: inspired by the TV Girl song “not allowed” <3 this has a lot of smut bc the whole song is abt sex so if ur uncomfortable with that, please don’t interact!

// MINORS DNI // DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST MY WORK

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are 18+. the actions and story represented in this work do not represent Stray Kids in any way; everything described is purely a work of fiction!

“What’s on your nasty old mind?”

Your childhood was by no means perfect. In fact, things seldom worked out in your favor. Born an only child in a middle-class working household, your parents were absent for long periods of time. Mom worked late nights at the hospital in the week, and dad was always away on business trips or out at company meetings. How many of these were actually late-night corporate gatherings and not just another woman he’d sneak off to see, you had no clue.

School was difficult, although you excelled in your courses, the stress ate away at you and withered you down like a dying flower. Decaying petal by petal, thorn by thorn, you’d find yourself questioning what the purpose of all this was if just to slave away at a desk and make money.

It seemed most everything was at the cost of your time, money, and sanity- except your friendship with Felix.

Lee Felix- even the name brought back distinct memories. Lazy, carefree afternoons when the two of you would spend hours upon hours scattering the sidewalks with chalk drawings of sea animals and hopscotch squares. Racing each other to the ice cream man’s cart when you’d hear the jingle from a block away. Laughing between singsong acrostic poems over colorful popsicles, the heat melting sticky sweetness onto your fingers, where you’d run them over your tinted red sunburns for some relief.

Most nights you’d spend at Felix’s house, tucked away in makeshift blanket forts in his bedroom- doing your best to keep hushed while you’d devise plans for tomorrow’s equally carefree July summer day.

Sometimes his sisters would join the two of you, learning all about your games as you’d walk them through the rules and dedicate one of them to the role of referee (per Felix’s sore loser request). But as you grew older, they made their own plans and friends, leaving the two of you to grow up alongside each other.

Days turned to months, which quickly turned to years that the two of you had been best friends. You observed as Felix grew taller and leaner, his short brown hair framing the introduction of freckles scattered all over his face- cheeks, eyes, and button nose. He couldn’t help but comment when you painted your nails for the first time, remarking he’d forgotten you were a girl sometimes.

Before you knew it, you and Felix made it to high school, where you each formed your own friend groups. You, a solid group of girls who shared your newfound interest in horror movies and girls nights. And Felix, a group of guys from the soccer team, the sport which he spent most of his teenage years wrapped up in.

Although you had your own lives, you and Felix remained close. You greeted him with a gentle wave every time you passed each other in the hallways, even if you were with your own groups of friends. Felix admired your newfound love for fashion, often complimenting your outfits when you had a second alone. His favorites usually involved anything olive green- which he made known was the best color on your naturally tanned skin tone. He gave his approval when you got highlights for the first time, experimented with different piercings, and even showed more skin than usual as the spring transitioned to summer.

You didn’t go unnoticed by the others in your grade- in fact, you became a particularly hot topic when you got your first boyfriend. He was a nerdy little member of the water polo team, with whom you’d spend your days after practice in his car listening to music and sharing stories of his day. It was also then that you shared your first kiss- a short, sloppy encounter in the front of his mom’s green minivan. Nothing that stuck with you in the long run, for the two of you broke up just two weeks later, citing “conflicting schedules”. He was with a new girl a week after that.

Felix was also a popular topic on campus. Girls visited his away soccer games just to watch him play, squealing when he’d score a goal and give them a little wave from down on the field. He had a girlfriend almost every year of his high school career- ranging from the most popular girl in school, to one a year older than him, and even rumors of some from rival schools (none of which were very serious). You often passed him locking lips with a girl when you passed his locker, looking awkward and a bit too happy to be there. It was those times that he had failed to acknowledge you, which you never cared about, considering you indulged in crushes on most of his friends anyway.

But he still kept you in his thoughts, making small talk when he passed you alone, and even bringing brownies from his mom when she baked a little too much (the famous recipe passed to Felix shortly after). You assured him that things were well, your parents still just as busy, your cat doing just fine, your college applications taking too much time these days.

He was just as giddy as his younger self, beaming when you shared good news and sending you off with a hug when his girlfriend or soccer buddies would drag him away. You weren’t sure any of them liked you, but they acknowledged you with a small thin-lipped smile every time they came around, which was enough for you.

Your final year of high school was a turning point for the two of you. You had made it into your first choice of university, a mere two hours from your household, with grades that reflected your hard work. Felix, on the other hand, chose a different career path.

When he knocked on your door one night, the last person you’d guessed it would be was Felix. You opened the door for him, wrapping your arms around your oversized hoodie that swallowed your frame.

“Hey!” he said enthusiastically.

“Felix!” you exclaimed quietly. Nobody was home at this hour, but the way the streetlights lit the dim world beyond your door, it felt odd to talk any louder than this.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked politely, to which you furrowed your brows.

“Yeah, sure... I mean, is it bad? You’re kinda scaring me.”

He chuckled lightly. “It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to give you the news first.”

You squint your eyes, unsure if you should invite him in. It felt odd considering he hadn’t been over in a while, but you didn’t want to make things weird.

“Yeah- do you want to come inside? Should I sit down for this?”

He chuckled again. “I won’t be long.”

You stepped aside as he passed through the door, standing with his hands in his pockets as you shut it behind you.

You led him to the living room, where he sat on the edge of the couch and smiled up at you. You took a seat next to him, facing your body toward him and smiling back.

“Okay…” you said timidly.

“Okay,” he began. “You remember when we were little, and I took those dance classes?”

You furrowed your brows at that. “Yeah, the hip hop ones? When you had that little performance?”

“Exactly,” he said.

“Yeah, I remember. We were so little!”

“We were!” he replied. “Anyway, so I did this tryout at an audition a little while back. It wasn’t really something I told anyone about, you know, in case they rejected me.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“And… well… they want me to keep at it.”

You cocked your head slightly, trying to make sense of his vague tone.

“You mean… you passed the audition?”

A small smile began to form on his lips.

“Kind of? They want me to keep practicing as a… trainee? And then if I get picked, I could possibly get… signed?” he finished with a questioning tone.

The smile on your face grew as he finished his sentence.

“They want to sign you?!” you exclaimed, a warm feeling overtaking your chest.

He laughed. “Not yet, not until I go there and try out officially. But there could be a chance, I guess?”

You jumped up, waving your hands with frantic excitement. “Oh my god, Felix! That’s amazing! You have to do it! When are you- I mean, where are the tryouts? I want to watch as much as I can! How’s that gonna work out with school?”

He sighed. “That was my next point.”

You paused, watching his expression grow worrisome.

“It’s… in Korea.”

Felix expected you to cry, to choke up or even to bawl your eyes out. But you didn’t- instead, you gasped with an even bigger smile and gave one solid nod.

“Go,” you said firmly. “You can’t pass this chance up. There’s always university, and the people here, and life. You may never have this again. Go, and I’ll be rooting for you.”

His smile returned, his eyes narrowing into little crescent moons as he beamed across from you.

“You think so?” he asked.

“Oh I know so,” you reply. “Besides, if you get all famous, maybe this stupid town will be known for something other than being a shithole. They’ll say ‘you know that Felix kid’? He’s from there!”

Felix laughed, throwing his head back a little. When the two of you stopped laughing, he looked back at you, appreciation in his expression.

“You’ve always been here for me. I won’t forget that. Not ever.”

You shook your head, waving a hand.

“I’m just being a friend, Felix. That’s what we’ve always been to each other.”

He nodded. “Speaking of my best friend, where are you headed after graduation?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, cocking your head in the direction of the acceptance letter on the coffee table. “I don’t think there was ever a version of this universe where I’d be okay with not going.”

Felix’s jaw hung open, head shaking in disbelief. “Well I think this version of the universe knows how lucky they’d be to have you,” he said, extending his arms out for a hug, which you gladly accepted.

Felix held you against his chest for a minute, rubbing small circles into your back as he remarked how proud he was of you. You parroted the statement, telling him you knew he was going to make it big.

When he pulled away, his eyes darted to your lips for a brief second, and then back up to your eyes. “I can’t tell if that’s the same lip gloss you wore when we were younger.”

You chuckled. “Why would I keep the same tube of lip gloss from a decade ago?”

He smiled, a little embarrassed at his own remark. “I don’t know! You always wore that one. Strawberries? Or something like that.”

“Raspberries,” you said with a smile, and he held his gaze on yours for a second.

“Raspberry,” he echoed. “She wore raspberry.”

And in the midst of lingering seconds, he gently leaned into you, a strand of black hair falling over one eye.

“y/n… Can I… Would it be weird if I kissed you?”

You were startled for a second, as the action hadn’t crossed your mind in the time you’d known him.

“I mean, nevermind… sorry, that was weird. I’m just excited and I guess I felt like that would… lock in the moment? God, I’m sorry, that sounds so dumb-”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “Felix, if you wanted to lock in the moment, I’m pretty sure that little tangent did it enough.”

He chuckled too, a little disappointed you didn’t agree.

“Right, that’s probably true. I don’t even know why I asked that. We’re just friends after all, and it’s not like I came here to do that. I literally just got out of my relationship and I promise I’m not hitting on you-”

“Felix,” you interrupted. “I’m happy too. Come here,” you said gently, pulling his face to yours.

He smiled before pressing a tender kiss to your glossed lips, smiling into it and instinctively reaching a hand up to cup your cheek.

When he pulled away, you laughed and wiped the sweet residue from the corners of his mouth.

It didn’t feel any different between you two, only your happiness for him was elevated by the emotions running through you following the encounter.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” you told him again. “And I know you’re going to do great things.”

“I’m proud of you,” he echoed. “I don’t leave for a few months, if you want to do something? I mean as friends, obviously…”

You rolled your eyes jokingly. “A celebratory kiss doesn’t change anything between us. Duh, we can do something as friends.”

He laughed lightly. “Cool. I should get going, but we’ll catch up later?”

You nodded, gesturing to the door. “You know the way.”

And with that, he slipped back out into the night, his own house only a few blocks away.

Graduation came and went, and the two of you seemed to have reconnected again in ways you hadn’t during the entirety of high school. Felix would stop by in the early mornings, sometimes with little desserts he’d baked, and you’d enjoy them in the warm summer heat that enveloped your front porch.

For the first time ever, the two of you connected as blossoming adults. He told you tales of his past lovers- girls you now learned he would usually meet at soccer games away from your campus. He said he only ever really cared for one of them, whom he later broke up with to pursue somebody else he had his eye on. Defeating the purpose of him stating he ever cared for her, in typical Felix fashion.

He recalled the time he got caught cheating on his final math exam in sophomore year, which the teacher excused for how “tired he looked” (his words), and let him off with a gentle warning. He shared that he stayed up late practicing his dance and recording little songs on GarageBand, files which he’d save under recipe names on his computer, in case somebody accidentally came across one. Chocolate Cheesecake was his most recent, one which he’d gone so far as to upload a little thumbnail of the dessert for anonymity.

You soaked in his tales like you did the sunshine, laughing at his ability to turn the most outlandish scenarios into an adventure. You envied the way he had this long list of stories to pass down before he was even in university. But you shared your own stories back to him, albeit not the most exciting ones. You failed your driver’s test 3 times before finally passing, to which your instructor tentatively warned you to avoid busy streets for a few months.You almost set your house ablaze one night when you slept with a candle lit on your window sill. Nobody was hurt, but your mom scolded you for what felt like a lifetime. Your parents were going through a difficult patch right now, one you could see the possibility of ending in divorce. At this, Felix’s expression turned serious, swallowing at your words and nodding empathetically.

After exchanging a series of comforting words, he smiled over at you, chuckling at the way you licked your fingers clean of his famous fudge brownies.

“Is there a lucky guy?” he asked suddenly, wiggling his eyebrows in a curious manner.

“What?” you replied, trying your best to recall if you’d ever passed his house in the presence of another guy. Nothing came to mind- you hadn’t even pursued another boyfriend since your little water polo romance.

He chuckled. “Come on, there has to be somebody. I just told you all about the relationship I got out of. Think that’s reason enough to distract me with your version.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Absolutely no one. I don’t think I can do another car seat romance right now.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “A car seat? That’s risque! You weren’t afraid of getting caught?”

You shook your head. “What’s the harm in getting caught kissing? That’s hardly a big deal!”

He furrowed his brows. “Oh sorry, I thought… something else.”

You paused for a brief moment, understanding his implications. “Felix… are you… inquiring about my sex life right now?”

His freckles almost disappeared as his face turned a bright shade of red. He was afraid if you sat any closer, you might feel the heat radiating from the tips of his ears.

“No! I wasn’t- I just thought,” he stammered.

You laughed in response. “You could’ve just asked if I was a virgin, you know. That’s not weird.”

His blush grew brighter, if even possible. “Oh god. I didn’t come here to try and get details out of you, I promise. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head. “You’re one of my best friends. I would likely tell you if I killed someone, you know.”

He laughed, the flush of his cheeks dying out a little. “Right.”

After a brief pause, you tilted your head in his direction. “Never.”

He raised his eyebrows a little, trying not to offend you with his reaction. “Never?”

You shook your head no. “Never! It just never happened. Of course if the right guy came along, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But I’m not going to have sex with just anyone. It’s not that important to me.”

He nodded, taking in your words. There’s a kind of admiration he had for your thought process. And then he began to speak.

“Me neither.”

You almost jumped up in the swinging bench bench from beside him. “What? No way, I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that to make me feel better!”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I was with anybody long enough to get to that point. Plus, it’s not like I was ever away from my parents or teammates to get up to that kind of stuff.”

You made sense of his words, a silence falling over the two of you.

“I mean…” he continued. “One of the girls at our second away game of senior year kind of… touched me? In the locker rooms?”

You stifled laughter. “I don’t need to hear the gory details of your almost handjob, Felix.”

He laughed back. “It was over my gym shorts!”

“Okay, okay! I get the gist!” you retorted, laughing into your hands.

The two of you fell silent again, the buzz of the cicadas bringing you back to reality for a moment.

“I should get going,” you tell him. “But thank you for the brownies. You really don’t have to keep bringing them. I’m going out with the girls later so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We could,” he said suddenly.

“What?” you replied, unsure of where his statement fit into your farewell.

“We could. Have… sex?” he clarified. You began to laugh, until you noticed his facial expression had turned serious.

“Felix? What are you proposing right now?”

He shrugged. “I’m not dating anyone. You’re not dating anyone. Neither of us have crossed it off our lists. It’s not like it has to be some big, emotional thing, y’know?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and then quickly transitioned into a frown. “Are you just trying to get in my pants?”

His face panicked. “No, god no. I’m sorry. I just thought maybe you’d want to. I mean you’re going to college and there will probably be a ton of opportunities for it there. I’ll be living with like 20 guys for a while… I dunno, I just thought… It's stupid. I’m sorry.”

You thought over his words for a while. The thought of it didn’t turn you on- having sex with your childhood best friend. In fact, it was a little gross. But he was right- you hadn’t really checked it off your young adult list. And you wouldn’t see him for months, so any awkward emotions that arose would have months to pass by and dissipate.

“I’m gonna get going,” he said. “I’m sorry, I feel like I ruined things.”

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s do it.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“You’re going to propose it and then act like I’m crazy for agreeing?” you replied.

“No, no! I mean- yeah. But only if you want to. Nothing emotional, if you don’t like it we can stop there. But we’ll have the story to tell when we’re both gone.”

“You make it sound like we’re dying, Felix.”

He chuckled.

“Let’s go inside. I’m not having my first time on a bench outdoors,” you finished.

He nodded, swallowing a big gulp of air. “Okay. I- do you want to take my hand? Or-”

You shook your head, chuckling at how awkward he managed to be sometimes. “Just go inside, I’ll meet you in my bedroom.”

Your bedroom was messier than you remembered. There were boxes scattered from packing for university. You realized Felix hadn’t seen it in a long time.

Posters of local bands scattered the walls, your mirrors plastered with collections of stickers. Your bed wasn’t made, the sheets sprawled over the edge and tangled from your morning slumber.

You were the first to lay down, gesturing for Felix to come over from his awkward stance in the doorway. He obliged, crawling on top of you and hoisting his weight up by a single elbow.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked nervously.

You smiled up at him, noting the way his freckles were yet again concealed by the blush across his cheeks.

“Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Felix smiled down at you, leaning in and pressing a gentle, yet firm kiss to your lips. His ebony hair tickled your cheek, which you reached up to move out of his face.

It was romantic and slow, and his hands traveled to the small of your waist, pulling you closer to his lanky frame.

He kissed you for a good while, and you could tell that although he hadn’t slept with anyone, he’d certainly had his share of kissing girls. His lips were plump and soft, and his eyelashes fluttered with pleasure every time you sighed against his mouth.

You’d almost forgotten the agreement by the time he slid a hand under your shirt. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice a little out of breath.

You nodded quickly in response, helping guide his hand to the curve of your breasts. Felix’s breath hitched in his throat as he examined your curves with the pads of his fingers. He awkwardly ran his index finger over your nipple, sighing in response when you let out a little gasp. His fingers were smooth, and oddly cold.

“So soft,” he said in a voice just above a whisper.

With growing eagerness in your core, you pulled back and slid your shirt over your head, glancing over at Felix who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off your chest. You chuckled softly at his expression, mouth agape and stars in his eyes at the sight in front of him. He sure knew how to give you an ego boost.

“Your turn,” you said, snapping him back to reality.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling the back of his white shirt over his head and tossing it aside, getting lost in the pile of your clothes already on the floor.

You observed his body too, taking in every new freckle you hadn’t seen before. They were scattered along his clavicles, painting his chest with little beige constellations and stopping just before his toned pecs. Where there was an absence of freckles, his muscles accentuated generously, jutting out as if begging to be explored.

You nodded, as if to say nice body, and a knowing smile grew on his pink lips. “Come here,” he said, pulling you close again and pressing chaste kisses to your neck and collarbones.

You really liked neck kisses, you learned, as he took his time brushing a tongue over patches of skin before peppering them with kisses and nibbling with feeble hunger.

Your hands reached up to tangle themselves in his silky hair, which he moaned gently in between kisses in response to. With your hands busy, he took the opportunity to slide a hand down, down- all the way down to your jeans.

Pulling away from your neck, he didn’t hesitate to snap open the button of your jeans and free your pelvis of the zipper. He didn’t even ask for permission, knowing by your reaction that the answer was yes, absolutely yes, please don’t stop.

Your hands left his hair to help slide your jeans off, and he towered over you to mirror the action. In between innocent giggles, he gathered both articles of clothing in his nimble hands, before making a dramatic show of tossing those on the floor, too.

You were down to just your underwear, a feeling which made you nervous as you became aware of how exposed you were. But Felix didn’t leave a single spot untouched, showering your skin with kisses as your hands found their way to his hair again.

“Can I try something?” Felix asked, pulling away to gauge your reaction through his fluttering lashes. You nodded, observing as he positioned himself between your legs, and reached a single hand to your underwear.

It was your turn for your breath to hitch, growing goosebumps as he placed a single finger to your still-clothed wetness. You gasped in response, the feeling not far from when you’d squeeze your thighs together to sex scenes from your favorite movies.

“I don’t really know how to do this,” he admitted to you shyly. “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

You brought your arms around his neck, smiling up at him and glancing down at his hands.

“Just circle my clit. With your finger. Like- yeah. Just like that,” you were interrupted by his successful attempt at following your instructions.

He smiled at your reaction, adding a finger and rubbing slow, thoughtful circles around your clit. You gasped at the heat growing in your core, happily accepting when he leaned down to kiss you as he continued. You stayed like that for several minutes, sweat pooling between your thighs as beams of sunlight glared through the window behind you.

Slowly, he hooked both fingers in your underwear, moving them aside to expose you, and placed fingers on your now fully exposed wetness. You gasped louder in response, humming with pleasure and gripping his toned bicep.

“Wait,” you said. “Let me just take them off.”

“Okay,” he replied in a gentle tone, pulling away a bit to let you slide your underwear off and over the bed.

Once bare, his fingers found their way back to your clit, now working little hearts into your skin. “Hearts?” you asked through a smile, kissing him harder and noting the lewd sounds of tongues and sweat and wetness that now filled the room.

He hummed in response, bucking his hips against your thigh, and you suddenly realized how hard he was for you. His bulge tented nicely in his gray boxers, the tip of his cock already flat against a generous spot of precum.

“Sorry,” he said, scared the accidental motion would make it look like he was moving too fast.

You grinned, shaking your head and propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “Take them off,” you requested plainly.

He gulped and nodded, admittedly scared of baring himself in front of you. You were already fully naked, and he’d forgotten the fact that he still had one article of clothing left to lose.

“You okay?” you asked, growing concerned at his silence. He nodded, responding by pulling his boxers down over his cock, which grew slowly against his abdomen.

He was just as you expected, veins bulging at his hardness, following the shape of his curvature to the wetted pink head.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, eyes fixated on his cock. He was flushed a rosy shade of pink as you stared, aching to explore every inch of him. Felix greeted your compliment with a toothy smile.

With a newfound confidence, he leaned back down to kiss you, his bulge sitting patiently at the entrance of your sex.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, and he responded with a nod.

“I never got rid of this after health class,” Felix said, as he fished a silver packet out of the pocket of his jeans which hung off the bed.

“You’re such a nerd,” you replied, and he laughed lightly as he tore open the packet with his teeth.

You helped him slide the rubber down his length, careful not to pinch any part of his sensitive skin. His breathing was heavy, and you could tell he didn't have much time before he gave in.

“Ready?” Felix asked, as he positioned himself in front of you again.

“Ready,” you replied, and you both kept your eyes locked down below as he gripped his shaft and slid just the tip in.

“Oh god,” you remarked, surprised at the sensation even though he was barely in. “Does it hurt?” he panicked, and you shook your head. “Just a little. Do more, if you can.”

At this Felix, pulled out slightly, and then bucked his hips forward so that he was just barely halfway in.

“Fuck-” you heard, and you looked up to his eyelids shut tight and nose scrunched. His hair hung lazily around his face, sweat pooled at the ebony roots.

“Are you-” you began to ask if he was okay, when he slid out and let out a deep sigh.

“I finished,” he replied. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would feel that good.”

You smiled in response, relaxing your hands by your side and sitting up.

“Don’t apologize, Felix. It’s just your body.”

You took note of the tears welling in his eyes, and your expression shifted to that of concern. “Felix?”

He wiped with the back of his hand, sitting back on your bed like a scolded child. “I didn’t mean to finish so fast. I wanted it to last. I didn’t come here for sex, I promise. I just thought it would be a good idea and now it’s over and I did so badly.”

He hiccuped through tears, and you sat up to wipe them from his eyes. “You didn’t do badly, Felix. You did amazing. That was an amazing first time. Don’t apologize for a natural reaction. We’re not pros at this.”

He nodded slowly, sniffling and looking around for his shirt. “Well I guess I’ll go,” he said rather dryly.

You knew he was going to beat himself up for this, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Felix, don’t go,” you said. “I’m not letting you leave like this.”

“I already ruined things,” he responded.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said. “Plus, we always have next time?”

You surprised yourself with your own remark, blushing as he locked his eyes on yours again.

“Next time?” he questioned, his voice still frail and quiet.

You nodded. “I mean… if you want to? As friends, of course. I liked it,” you shrugged.

The last of his tears trickled down his cheeks as a small smile grew back on his face, illuminating the room with comfort once again.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like to do it again.”

You nodded, mirroring his smile. “Then we can do it again. It’s not a big deal, right?”

He shook his head, wiping tears with the back of his hand. “Just… practice I guess? That’s all it is.”

You nodded. “Just practice. Exactly.”

With bleary eyes, Felix rid himself of the condom and clothed himself again, pulling his shirt over his head and buttoning his jeans back how they were. You laid on your side, still nude in your bed, one hand tucked under your cheek, still entranced by the way the sun kissed Felix’s freckles in the June air. You hummed softly as the birds chirped outside, the sounds starkly contrasting the filthy moans emitting from your room just moments earlier.

“I’ll see you later?” he said, turning to you, his eyes flickering curiously to your chest and and between your thighs again. You tugged the sheets up to your chin, keeping your gaze on him for a minute.

“Busy later, remember?”

He nodded once. “Right. Are your parents home tonight? Or… what are you doing tomorrow?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his helpless words. “Gosh Felix, you’re needy already. I’ll call you okay? I’m not gonna leave you hanging.”

He smiled in response, cocking his head to one side and taking one last look at you.

He’d never seen you like this, more skin showing than ever before. The way your mascara pooled around your eyes from shutting your eyes in pleasure. The way the last of the sun rays set little orange patches aglow on your olive skin, highlighting your clavicles like an oil painting. The way your smile said so much yet so little at the same time, as if to tell him you’ll be right here the next time. And the next, and the next- and hopefully several times after that.

He wanted nothing more than to touch himself and stay in for round two, but he was dying to go home and shower the lingering embarrassment off his body. With nothing else to say, he raised two fingers and gave a little salute, trying to send you off in the most casual manner he could, fearing you might change your mind about there being a next time.

“Catch ya later,” he said a bit awkwardly, and turned on his heel to stride out of your bedroom.

You said nothing in response, shutting your eyes and letting the evening drowsiness overtake you.

“You should hear when you’re not around, when it’s just us horny poets”

It didn’t take long before you and Felix were fucking like rabbits for the remainder of summer.

Handjobs on your porch when it was too early in the morning to be caught. Blowjobs in the backseat of his car, Felix strategically parking on little off roads where no one could interrupt, while his hands pulled mercilessly at your hair. Kisses all over your neck during movie nights, where you’d fold almost immediately and wind up under him for the remainder of- what was that film again? You’re not sure. You were sure of his nimble fingers, and the way his lips could work up just about anything out of you.

You’re sure he’d been studying pornography, the way his lips pressed little butterfly kisses all over your aching pussy, coming up to suckle your clit and spread your juices all over your thighs with more hungry kisses and nibbles.

Felix even felt comfortable enough to present you some of the videos he got off to, shyly angling his phone at you mid-makeout session, inquiring about your interest in sucking off his fingers. You challenged him, making him suck your fingers instead, while you edged him over his sweatpants. Note: he really liked that move.

The two of you were different tunes working in perfect harmony, your erotic ideas playing off of each other, resulting in some of your most intense memories together.

Not every idea worked out as you’d planned, but the time was never wasted. Nights where you couldn’t finish from penetration alone, he’d spend hours working you up with an old massager, his deep voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he fondled your breasts.

His words were so carefully picked, diligently selected from your favorite erotic fiction works you’d send him. “You like that? Is your pussy aching for me? Always so wet when I touch you. Could do this for hours…could hear you moan for hours.”

His breath tickled your neck, the sound of his own labored breathing growing louder and then quieter again as he’d brush his lips over your ear and fill your mind with little moans and filthy thoughts.

And the nights would always end safely. He’d bring his signature baked goods, massaging you in his lap as he fed you little bites of brownies and cookies and pies.

His words never stopped at sex, showering you with compliments and sweet nothings even if not to arouse you. “You did so well today. Thanks for letting me try that. I’m sorry if it hurts. Let’s try something more gentle tomorrow, yeah?”

And the weeks you couldn’t have sex, Felix never seemed to mind all too much. Sometimes he’d let you watch him pleasure himself, sometimes he’d brush off the idea all together. The stories you shared, and the laughs you got out of each other, were reason enough to spend just about every passing second together.

2:15am.

Felix pulled out, rolling over on his back again, letting out an exasperated sigh and shutting his eyes.

“Fuck. That was good. Are you okay?”

He forced an eyelid open, glancing over at your still lying body, too tired to speak but nodding through labored breaths.

“Yeah,” you managed a minute later.

The two of you remained like that for a few minutes, basking in the silence of the atmosphere around you. The world was quiet without the loud moans and cuss words that erupted when you were normally together.

And then came the sniffles.

When you began fucking, you quickly understood that you were learning things about Felix that maybe nobody knew before you. Not even Felix himself. Like how he scrunched his nose right before he finished, his open mouth following shortly after. The way he apologized after he let out an accidental slut or whore in the bedroom. They helped him get off on occasion, but he detested the thought of you internalizing the words. Or maybe the way his hands cramped quickly when he fingered you- he wasn’t used to using his hands as much as his legs or upper body. Soccer player problems.

But the most interesting thing you’d come to discover about Felix was his tendency to cry after sex.

Mornings, afternoons in his car, quickies in your room, it didn’t matter. 90 percent of the time, he’d cry after finishing, his whole face contorting into that of a guilty boy’s, eyes reddening as they welled with tears and found their home on the sleeves of his sweaters or corners of your sheets.

The second time it happened, you grew concerned for him, thinking it was something you’d done. You tried to break things off, saying “maybe this isn’t a good idea” and “I don’t want to do this if you’re not emotionally ready for it.”

But that only made him cry harder. Wrapping you in his arms and letting out gentle sobs in your knees. Begging you not to go, that he’d work on himself instead.

It never stopped, and although Felix tried to vocalize it, you always felt sorry for him.

“Sorry,” he’d explain through sobs. “Just felt so good.”

You never invalidated his feelings, always simply nodding at his words and holding him for as long as he needed to be held.

The truth is, Felix felt emotions so deeply, deeper than even he himself was capable of handling. The orgasms were an emotional high for him every time, pure bliss exiting his body and filling yours, you returning the favor with your praises for him.

When he came down from his high, it snapped him back to reality to remember that this was all temporary. That he’d be gone soon, that you’d be fucking somebody else in this bed within the next few weeks. That he didn’t buy you flowers, nor did he properly introduce himself to your parents, although you weren’t dating. That you’d be so generous to try just about anything with him, going at it for hours to determine what the two of you liked and didn’t like. That you sacrificed your body for his pleasure on nights you weren’t as horny as he was, and that you never made a fuss when he made a mess of you and your sheets.

That you held him after sex every time, massaging his hair with a gentle caress, telling him about how “amazing he did” and that he was “so, so good to you.”

And through tear-stained eyes, he’d do the same for you, thanking you until sleep overtook you both.

Tonight was no different.

“Hey, hey,” you said to him soothingly. “Come here.”

He sat up, face in his hands for a moment as he let out quiet sobs and shook his head. “It’s no use. I can’t st-stop c-crying…” choked sobs trailed his voice away from you.

“Felix, you did so well. You always do. Are you overwhelmed? Talk to me,” you said, sitting up to embrace him.

He turned to hug you back, tears falling on your bare shoulder as you shushed him and pressed little kisses to his forehead.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You’d heard it a million times from him, but he always felt the need to justify himself to you.

“Don’t apologize,” you told him. “Don’t apologize for your body. Do you want to grab something to eat? I know it’s late, but McDonald’s is still open.”

He wiped his tears away for the second time today, nodding as you reached over and handed him his sweatshirt.

When his tears came to a halt, he smiled at you and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your temple. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I know it’s the least sexy thing you can do after an orgasm.”

You smiled back at him, standing up to gather your clothes from where they’d fallen. “Hey, I don’t care if you want to do your taxes after sex. I had fun, you had fun. That’s all that matters.”

Felix always admired your ability to downplay everything. No reaction of his was too much when he was around you. He felt normal, comfortable. Safe.

“Just gonna grab a new pair of underwear,” you said to him. “I’ll meet you back at the car.”

Felix nodded, scrambling out of the tangled sheets of your bed and grabbing his car keys.

As he exited your room, you took careful note of your disheveled appearance in the mirror. Bruises, messy hair, puffy lips. Tear-stained shoulders.

“Okay,” you began. “If you had to pick what you’d want your dorm mates to be like, what would you say?”

You popped a french fry in your mouth, watching as Felix thought over the question.

“I’d say…” his Australian accent was thick as he pondered for a moment. “I dunno, maybe outgoing? I guess I’m not the most extroverted so I need some balance.”

You laughed. “Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes outgoing can be a veiled statement for annoying.”

He scrunched his nose at you. “Oh god. More annoying than me? I don’t even know if that’s possible.”

You slapped his arm playfully. “You’re right, I think you already beat them in that department.”

He remarked a sarcastic haha at you, taking a sip of his McFlurry before crossing his legs onto his seat.

“What about you- what do you hope the people at university are like?”

You swallowed, giving a small shrug. “I hope they make me feel comfortable.”

His eyes remained on you for a second, and you continued your response. “I just want to experience everything. I want to go bar-crawling with my friends at 2am. I want to go to parties, and study at the library for finals with a group of people who make it all worth it. I just want that typical experience.”

He nodded, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

He was reminded again that he wasn’t going to be a part of your university experience. You were going to meet new people, make new friends. Fuck new guys. And he wouldn’t be around to be part of any of it.

“You know,” Felix began. “I’m rooting for you. Even though I won’t be here to see how it all plays out.”

You pulled your lips into a thin smile, nodding. “I know you are. I don’t doubt that.”

“And,” you continued. “I’m rooting for you. I’ll be tuned in to all the programs they put you on. I’ll shoot you little messages about your silly stage outfits here and there. The whole kpop fan image? That’s going to be me, like, times a million. Maybe I’ll drag around your album everywhere I go.”

He laughed at the idea, tossing his head back. “Hey, don’t speak too soon. If things fall through I’ll be back in less than a month. I don’t even speak Korean. Got a lot of learning to do.”

You waved him off. “You’ll catch on. I know you will.”

He held your gaze for a moment, smiling again before leaning in to kiss you. His lips tasted like oreos, and yours lingered of salty fries.

“2 weeks,” he said when he pulled away. “I can’t believe how fast this summer went by.”

You agreed with a slight tilt of your head.

He glanced out the window briefly. The cicadas had gotten quieter now that August drew to a close. You were at the usual spot you hooked up at, parked in his car across a vista point just off the highway. The view overlooked a canyon of trees, which looked like something out of a horror movie at this hour of the night.

He looked back at you and nodded in the direction of the backseat, a gesture you knew very well. You climbed over the center console, already pulling off your sweatpants and adjusting yourself so your legs were propped open.

Felix followed after you, slipping off his jeans and pulling you onto his lap.

Hasty kisses met your lips and neck as he gripped your waist and massaged little circles into the dimples that met your lower back. He let little moans meet your mouth as you palmed his already-hard cock through his boxers, rocking back and forth on his thigh to stimulate yourself first.

One hand reached up and snaked two fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” he instructed.

You wrapped desperate fingers around his wrist, pressing little kisses to the pads of his fingers before slipping them in and out of your drooly mouth. He didn’t break eye contact as you hollowed your cheeks and stared at him through long lashes, moving slowly and savoring the taste of his soft skin.

“Good,” he said, and you released him with a gentle pop, a string of saliva connecting him to you still.

He licked a stripe along his fingers too, sharing the flavor of your needy spit, before reaching down and moving your underwear aside.

You gasped as a finger pressed hastily to your clit, rubbing little hearts as he usually did, which he knew drove you wild. He rubbed back and forth, grazing down your slit and back up again, before finding his way to your entrance.

Felix gently inserted a first, and then a second finger, inside your soaking cunt, using his thumb to graze your clit and make you emit breathy moans from the sensation.

“Fuck,” you breathed, watching him tilt his head to one side.

“That feel good? Hmm?” He cooed with a smile, already knowing the answer by your pleasured response.

You nodded, eyebrows arched up in pleasure as he moved faster. Felix nodded with you as you gripped his wrist, digging nail marks into his veiny forearm.

“Felix, would you fuck me?” you asked him politely, your breathing speeding up.

“Hmm? I am fucking you, sweetheart.” The pet names, god, the pet names. He knew exactly what they did to you.

“Want your cock in me,” you specified, gripping his wrist again to slow his pace. He hummed in response, moving a strand of hair out of your face and pressing little kisses to your exposed neck.

Feeling he’d teased you enough, Felix pulled his boxers down and tossed them aside, gasping as you jerked him twice and thumbed at his tip.

“Fuck, stop,” he begged you. “I don’t want to finish yet.”

You, nodded removing your panties with ease and waiting patiently as he slid a condom efficiently over his length and positioned himself. Before you could lay back and spread, he gripped your waist again, lifting you onto his lap and rubbing against your soaking slit.

“Wanna fuck up into you,” he said. “Wrap your arms around me.”

You did as told, grabbing hold of his warm gray hoodie and taking a deep breath as he lowered you on to him.

Felix let out a hearty moan, soaking in how good it felt. You’d ridden him once before, but this was something else. Needy hands grabbed at each other, making desperate attempts to grope your flesh and bring you closer to him. His hands rested on your lower back and syncopated with your breathing as he lifted you down on to him and bucked his hips up into you.

You felt every inch of his cock twitching inside of you, about to fill you up before you caressed his jaw and pleaded. “Don’t move,” you instructed. “I just want to feel you for a second.”

Felix did as told, slowing his thrusts down and reciprocating as you leaned down for a sloppy kiss. His cock pulsated against your already throbbing clit, sending shivers down your spine as you kissed him again, and again. Making him feel every ounce of your want for him and only him.

His mouth was wet with drool, giant sultry eyes so full of want and need for your body. When you pulled away, you took in his face for a second. Although it was dark, you could still make out the flush of his cheeks around his freckles. Dark strands of hair hung loosely around his jaw, and the musk of his cologne filled the air as he sweated profusely in the steamy car.

“Okay,” you said finally. “Cum in me. Please.”

The words were all it took before Felix thrust up into you again, his nose scrunching and mouth agape as he shot thick, white strands of his pleasure into the rubber.

You let out a breathy sigh as he slid out of you, tying up the condom and tossing it aside.

But you didn’t move from off of him, instead holding him and pressing little kisses to his forehead. Like clockwork, the tears began to flow. You kissed them back up his cheeks, letting the salty taste melt on your already salted tongue.

“It’s okay,” you assured, and he sniffled with innocent puppy-dog eyes that looked up at you. You wrapped a hand around his hair, pulling him closer and ruffling his locks with empathy. “You okay? That was really good.”

He nodded, wiping his tears with sleeves that enveloped his hands like little paws. “Felt really good,” he said, letting out another choked sob.

“I know,” you replied. “I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

It was usually at this point that Felix’s crying began to lessen, but he started crying even harder at your consolation.

“Felix?” you asked, getting worried with his growing sadness. He nuzzled his face into your neck, letting tears fall to your neck and wet your hoodie.

“Don’t forget me,” he said suddenly, and you were taken aback by his pleading tone.

You pushed him away, tilting his chin up to meet yours again.

“Felix,” you said. “Nothing could ever make me forget you. You’re my best friend. We’ll see each other again.”

He nodded, but a smile was still absent from his expression.

You pulled him in for another hug, rubbing circles into his hoodie and shushing him gently.

“My star,” you cooed tenderly. “Could never forget you.”

Your hands grazed the back of his neck as he held you too, feeling small and vulnerable, but safe. Always safe.

“You may not like it, but you better learn how, ‘cause it’s your turn now”

Felix left on a Thursday.

It was a dark September morning, the day too early to reveal what the weather would bring. He wore a hoodie and his favorite sweatpants, looking especially boyish with a bulky pair of headphones around his neck, his sleek black hair pushed back with a headband. One of yours- one he’d found in the backseat of his car.

He packed the remainder of his bags, glancing over at your street in the chill of the September air as his mom loaded the car with his belongings.

I’ll see her soon, he assured himself. After all, you had promised you wouldn’t forget him.

The day prior was spent with his family, enjoying one last home-cooked meal with his mom and sisters. They exchanged a few gifts they’d generously picked for him, knowing they’d miss his 19th birthday, just 2 weeks out from his departure date.

Felix cried at the gesture, the idea of a birthday spent alone suddenly filling him with dread.

And after double counting his bags, his family was off to sleep. “Don’t use your phone,” his mother had remarked several times. “We need to be at the airport very early tomorrow.”

And when he was sure she was asleep, little snores confirming his theory, Felix climbed out of his window and disappeared into the dimly lit streets, mentally apologizing to his mom for disobeying every one of her orders.

The air was more unforgiving than when he’d escaped in the summer months, painting little goosebumps on his bare arms and showing his breath back to him when he exhaled.

Still, he ran. He ran and ran, and he didn’t waste a second booking it to your place.

Your window was left ajar as it usually was, you sitting up in bed with a book. When the crunch of leaves drew your attention to the paned glass, you knew exactly who it was.

Felix usually did his best to lead into your sessions as a gentleman would, inquiring about your day and sharing little bits of his. But his heartbeat quickened with every passing second, knowing this was it. This was the last time he’d have you for who knew how long, and his body ached for yours already.

You wasted no time helping him climb inside, already attaching your lips to his, as he guided you back into your bed.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, slipping off your nightgown too, pressing hungry kisses to your thighs and moaning against your soft skin.

He wanted to say something, he wanted so badly to tell you how sorry he was for brushing past your day, that he did in fact care, but that he needed all of you first. He wanted to apologize for all the times he ignored you in the hallways back at school, mentally punishing himself for not being a more prominent part of your teenage years sooner. He wanted to tell you that Oreo McFlurries all tasted like you now, and they always would. For as long as he remembered you.

Your hands in his hair brought him back to the moment, and he wasted no time attaching his drooly tongue to your clit, moving back and forth like a starving animal eating for the first time in days.

His licks turned into saliva-filled kisses, wrapping his lips around your clit and making loud sucking noises as he pulled back and left no inch of your folds untasted. Between his licking and ravenous kisses, you felt your body tense as you reached your high. It must’ve been a new record, you thought to yourself, as your legs trembled and you leaked cum all over his pretty face.

Your orgasm was intoxicating, but your need for him kept you aching, and you knew you had a lot more left in you still.

Felix’s mouth met yours again, letting you taste yourself on his wet lips. He smiled in between kisses, trailing kisses down to your breasts and suckling each nipple with soft hums.

“Gonna make you feel so good tonight,” he said for the first time tonight, in between breathless kisses. “Just lay back. You don’t have to lift a finger.”

You shivered at his words, an agreement you normally didn’t do when you linked. You always returned the favor in one way or another, but tonight, he wanted to prove himself to you.

As he pressed kisses down your torso, he complimented you between gasps for air, making you giggle as you looked down at him. “So… beautiful…” he’d say. “So soft… love how you’re always ready for me…”

His mouth found his way to your clit again, and you didn’t care that you were already overstimulated from your first orgasm. He kissed you all over, paying careful attention to your swollen clit, moaning as you stifled screams and gasps.

Felix tasted you for what felt like hours. You’d finished all over him a total of three times already, and well into the fourth, you pulled him up by his hair. “Need you,” you said, your insides aching to clench around him just once.

He didn’t waste any time demanding you specify your words, knowing exactly what you wanted from him. His boxers were stained with dark gray spots of wetness, and you realized he must’ve been aching for you too. The thought of his straining bulge made you even wetter for him, if that was even possible.

Hoisting your legs up around his waist, Felix wrapped himself up and thrusted into you with more force than you’d felt from him before. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, your nails scratching red marks all over his forearms.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, pausing for a moment. You shook your head no, moving a strand of hair out of his face.

With that, he thrust into you again, and again, loud moans and whimpers escaping his lips like you’d never heard before. As he watched your fucked-out expression, he snaked a hand around your throat, lining your eyesight up with his.

“Look at me,” he demanded. You kept your gaze on him, pondering how this was the same person who so delicately kissed you and held your hand when you weren’t underneath him like this.

“You gonna miss me?” he asked between rhythmic thrusts. You nodded.

“You gonna think of me when you touch yourself?” he asked, and your heartbeat quickened at his tone.

“Yes,” you replied, barely above a whisper.

“You gonna tell me when you’re all wet and needy for me? You gonna touch yourself and think of how I fucked you?”

Your heartbeat kept quickening, his words both dizzying and unexpected.

“Felix…” you said, but your voice trailed off as he quickened his pace again.

“Say it again,” he ordered.

“Felix.”

“Louder. Want the neighbors to hear how good I fuck you.”

“Felix!” You said louder as he moved even faster, your nails clawing into his back as your own voice filled your ears.

When you opened your eyes, his nose was scrunched in pleasure, followed by his plump lips parted, which chased his high. He moaned for what seemed like several minutes, thrusting himself empty, and slowing inside of you, making sure you were completely overstimulated before pulling out.

You sat up quickly, knowing he was going to cry himself silly tonight. As you pressed your hands to his cheeks, already rubbing your thumbs at his lashes, he nuzzled into you and pulled you closer.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaky with overwhelming sadness already.

But this time, you felt yourself start to cry, too. Your eyes welled with tears at the sight of him, holding you like a small child clutches a teddy bear, crying into your knees and letting little sobs escape his parted lips. When he heard your sniffles, he looked up at you, pouting through tears at the sight. It was his turn to pull you close, placing a gentle hand to the back of your head and holding you close to his chest, afraid he might break you if he didn’t maintain his fragile embrace.

He didn’t ask why you cried. He just stayed like that, holding you close to him, listening to your quiet sobs like music and grazing his hands over the skin he’d previously bruised and made a mess of.

3:56am.

Felix hadn’t meant to lose track of time this badly, and you knew he was supposed to leave for the airport in just an hour.

“Felix,” you said to him. “I didn’t mean to keep you up this late…”

He shook his head firmly, wiping his cheeks with the corner of your sheets.

“I can sleep on the plane,” he responded. His eyes were puffy and red, and you thumbed over his eyelids in attempts to soothe the irritated skin.

You pulled away, sliding out of your bed and pulling on your nightgown. “Have a little surprise for you,” you said, hoping to get at least a smile out of him before he left tonight.

It worked, his lips pulled into a curious grin as he slipped a shirt on himself, too.

“What is it?,” Felix remarked.

You didn’t respond, instead digging through your drawers and pulling out a small tube.

You tossed it over to him, his skilled fingers catching it quickly and observing it under the moonlight peering through the window.

“Your chapstick!” he said with a smile. “Raspberry.”

You smiled back at him and shrugged. “Little taste of home.”

He twisted the tube between his slender fingers for a bit, uncapping it and bringing it up to his swollen lips.

You watched as he glided the cherry color across his smile, running over the tint with his tongue and smacking his lips together lightly.

“Tastes like you,” he remarked.

You shrugged again with a smile. “We match now.”

You urged Felix to go home and get at least an hour of sleep, but he refused defiantly, asking to be held in your blankets until he had to leave.

So you did. And for the last time he was able to, Felix asked about your day. He kept his eyes on you the whole time, careful not to blink excessively in case he missed the way your face lit up at the mention of your future college life. He took note of the way your chest rose and fell with slow breaths, clearly tired but not enough to leave his side.

You told him all about what you still had to pack before leaving for university. About the book you started this morning, the second one in a trilogy. You recounted your favorite songs, suggesting a few to him, which he added to a playlist for his flight.

The two of you reminisced the summer days, which had slipped by you in the blink of an eye, taking all your carefree thoughts with them. You voiced your favorite moments in his car- both sexual escapades and late-night McDonald’s runs, and he shared his own discoveries and favorite moments back to you.

He said he hoped your next lover would appreciate the smell of your raspberry lips as much as he did. And you silently wished he’d find someone who held him after intense sessions the way you learned he needed.

But before you knew it, the clock read 4:48am.

You knew Felix’s mom would be waking him any moment now, and he needed to be back in his own bed fast.

“Go,” you said, as he propped himself up and scanned over your alarm clock once again. “You’ll get in trouble.”

You followed as he slid out from your warm comforter, fixing up his hair and towering over you.

With a straight, yet heavy expression, he looked down and tilted your chin up with one finger, placing a gentle kiss to your lips and pulling away after a few seconds.

“It was fun,” you said, and he smiled in response, though saying nothing back.

You followed him back to the window, where he hoisted himself over the ledge and back into the cool September air.

Turning on his heel, Felix brought two fingers up to his forehead, giving you a little salute and a smile.

“Catch ya later,” he said, and disappeared again into the morning fog.

You hoped so. You really, really hoped so.

“I’m starting to suspect you don’t intend to do anything you say at all.”

The months that followed were tainted heavily by Felix’s absence. The lulling clouds and light drizzles that spanned far into November reminded you that the seasons did in fact change, whether you wanted them to or not.

Your college dorm was small and cramped, and the smooth white walls felt like that of a prison most days. But your roommate was nice, and the two of you hit it off fast. Late nights were spent snacking in the dining hall, where the two of you would gossip about the boys you shared classes with, making lewd remarks that remained a fun game between the two of you.

You spent most of your days in the library, a favorite spot of yours on the 8th floor that overlooked the busy streets and provided ample content to people-watch.

And you never heard from Felix.

You didn’t reach out, knowing he was busier than ever, his phone usage probably monitored heavily by the executives there. And such was life- the summer interactions like the games you now played with your new college roommate; between the two of you, and not meant to be an object of permanence by any means.

But some days, you took it harder than others.

Some days you were angry with yourself for sacrificing so much, barely recognizing the curves and birthmarks that painted your nude frame, upset that anyone had ever touched them.

Other days, you stifled toothy smiles in the palms of your hands, when you remembered the activities both of you got up to that summer. Some of the most incredulous, dirty-minded positions came flooding back to your memory, and no one around you would ever suspect such a pristine girl to have tried the things she did.

You did touch yourself to the memories of them, hoping your roommate wouldn’t hear the little gasps you let out with your hands between your thighs at such an ungodly hour. But as time passed on, the memories were less vivid, melting colors and tastes into obscurity, until you couldn’t get off to them anymore.

And then one day in your second year, Mark entered your life.

At first, you were convinced there had to be a catch, when he approached you in the library to borrow a pencil, slipping his phone number to you in exchange.

His dusty blue hair and stylish outfit had caught your eye in passing once, but you’d never considered the possibility of him noticing you.

Yet that he did, sealing his action with a closed-mouth smile, gesturing to your phone and miming a texting gesture at you. “Yo, like, you should text me or something. I always see you around here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, fascinated with the casual way he talked.

“I don’t even know your name,” you remarked jokingly.

“Oh my bad,” he said, reaching a hand out to you. “I’m Mark. My friends usually call me Mark.”

You laughed again, meeting his hand halfway with yours and shaking once. “Y/n.”

“Dang, that’s a cool name,” he said. “It totally suits you.”

You cocked your head slightly, his words igniting a spark in you. “I’d hope so,” you replied. “Had it for 20 years.”

“Oh cool, you’re like a year younger than me,” he replied. “Second year?”

You nodded, taking in his features for a second. His warm smile and doe eyes were inviting, yet the way his chiseled jawline framed strands of sapphire hair was hot.

You stayed quiet for a second, before he broke the silence. “Listen, I gotta head to my evening class. But would you wanna like, grab a coffee or something? Or like, maybe get dinner? It’s a 3-hour lecture so I’ll be out kinda late but I’m probably gonna grab some takeout-”

His rambling was endearing. You cut him off with an eager nod, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll like, totally text you. Yo.” you said.

With an amused smile, you looked back once as you made your way to the elevator and disappeared between the twin doors. He kept his gaze on you from across the room, sticking his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans and smiling back.

The amusing encounter was the start of a whole new chapter for you.

“How quickly they turn sour, so be careful who you screw.”

College came and went quicker than you imagined it would. What took years of mental preparation seemed to fly by, the end of every semester always catching you by surprise.

You and Mark stuck together through the end of your college career. While he graduated a year earlier than you, he still visited every week of your last year, bringing you iced coffee and showering you with kisses as you studied in your same spot at the library. His friends also took a liking to you, and you were happier than you’d ever been before when you were around him.

Mark graduated with a degree in biology, getting a prestigious post-college internship at a research institution almost immediately after graduating. You completed your courses in business, excelling in all of them, grateful you had so many friends and a loving boyfriend for a support system.

And then you graduated, walking the stage in a dark blue dress (per Mark’s request), basking in the cheers of Mark and his friends, who made obnoxious neon signs and bought you the biggest gift basket you’d ever seen.

You began your work at a small ad agency, spending hours producing digital ads and writing pieces, coming home to your little shared apartment with Mark. It was a dingy box on the South Side, but with a little decorating, the two of you fell in love with the way it brought you closer together.

You enjoyed the months you couldn’t afford a mattress yet, keeping each other warm on the carpeted floor and using spare jackets as blankets. You bargained for furniture at secondhand shops, scoring the jackpot when you picked up the velvet couch of your dreams, one which you’d quickly come to spend most of your time on. The little kitchen table that only seated two, which proved a problem when you had friends over. But one that the two of you enjoyed home-cooked meals and greasy takeout on together, every night that you possibly could.

Mark was gentle with you. He was funny, outgoing, and smarter than anyone you’d ever known. You wondered sometimes what you did to deserve him. The two of you grew up together, much like you and Felix once did.

After graduation, Mark dyed his hair black for the first time in years, which you simply couldn’t get enough of. You lost weight after college, transitioning your closet from comfortable hoodies and sweatpants to dresses and blouses. The two of you coordinated outfits on errand days, which his friends never ceased teasing you for.

And you were happy. Truly and honestly happy.

One rainy Wednesday night, Mark took you out, deeming it a celebratory event following your raise at work.

“Here’s to… money,” Mark said with a smile, bringing his glass up to yours with a little clink.

You weren’t hard to please, requesting the celebratory meal be at your favorite ramen shop a couple blocks away. Mark insisted on something fancier, but let you pick your first choice in the end. He never pressured you, one of the many things you loved about him.

In between slurping noodles and telling tales of work, you were interrupted by music playing on the television high on the wall, drowning out Mark’s story with loud rap.

“Jeez,” you remarked. “Can’t they lower that? That’s so annoying.”

Mark adjusted his body toward the tv, bobbing his head at the thumping beat. “I dunno, I kinda like it.”

You scoffed. “This garbage? You’re crazy.”

He kept his eyes glued to the tv, eyebrows furrowed in a teasing manner as he continued to bob his head along and ad-lib the loud singing.

“Maniac... Maniac,” he hummed along, laughing at the screen and craning his head to keep watching.

You watched too, eyes glued to the colorful outfits and coordinated dancing. Your eyes scanned over the lyrics on the screen, realizing at this point that the song wasn’t in English.

if you think I’m just pure and innocent, you’re wrong,

when a favor continues, people think it’s their right, toxic,

this is what drives me crazy, warning

As a deep voice filled the room, your eyes remained glued to the figure in a green coat and purple beanie, heart stopping briefly in your chest while your mind raced a million miles per minute.

The familiarity of every feature grazed your conscience with a rude awakening.

You watched as the screen panned to someone with red hair, and another with purple hair. It was a few seconds before you spotted him again, a longer shot of him looking up at impressive skyscrapers. But it confirmed your theory.

It was Felix.

Mark’s singing began to annoy you now, the whole restaurant flooding with the same catchy chorus, most eaters now also craning their necks to watch the colorful group dance in sync.

“Could you stop?” you said suddenly, and Mark turned to you with a confused expression.

“Stop what?” he asked, questioning your sudden change of tone.

You didn’t answer, prodding at the noodles left in your bowl with chopsticks. The song overhead finished, transitioning to a slower song sung by a Korean woman this time.

“Y/n?” Mark asked again, waving a hand in front of you as your brows furrowed relentlessly at the dinner in front of you.

“Nothing,” you replied. “I was talking to my chopsticks. Sorry.”

Mark nodded, glancing back up at the screen and evidently thinking nothing of it. “She’s good,” he said. “Do you think she’s actually playing the piano?”

You didn’t answer, your brain and heart still racing with emotions that made you want to scream from atop a skyscraper. Any appetite you previously had for celebration dissipated quickly.

Their group wasn’t bad. Not by any means.

You did your research carefully, strategically logging out of your shared Youtube account with Mark to binge their music videos and interviews.

Felix seemed to have gone through a million different hair colors already. Black, green, silver, red, pink, even a long blonde wig which you liked more than you cared to admit.

You watched his interviews, picking him out from the group of 8 every time, keeping your focus on his mannerisms and crafted responses to superficial questions.

You quickly came to realize not much had changed about him. They dubbed him brownie boy- a name which you chuckled at in a melancholy tone, remembering the taste of them all too well. He loved dancing. He smiled after almost everything he said. His freckles were still his most prominent feature.

He even spoke of his hometown, telling an interviewer how much he’d hoped to visit again someday. Something you scoffed at, knowing all too well he must be too caught up in the glitz and glamor to give two shits about all of this.

It became an addiction for a few weeks, picking apart anything he said and interpreting where he’d been, what he’d seen out there. Who he might have fucked after you.

But the clips pointed you nowhere, filling your mind with useless knowledge about his various taekwondo medals and first impressions of his members.

And just like it entered, your new fixation exited your routine suddenly.

You tossed your phone on your bed one night, letting out an exasperated sigh after closing three tabs of useless articles and finding nothing in them.

“You good?” Mark asked.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Just stressed.”

He turned to face you, placing his phone down by his pillow as well.

“Is it that new thing at work?”

You rested your cheek on your hand, turning to face him too, noting the genuine look of care in his widened eyes.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Something like that.”

He held his gaze on yours for a minute, his eyes stretching into a smile as he let out a little laugh.

“Well you know I’m always here for you. Do you want to, like, talk about it or something?”

You smiled back at him, shaking your head in response.

There was no feasible explanation as to why you were bothered by the whole thing. The whole affair was nearly 5 years old now- you were a completely different person at that time. Maybe it was the idea of giving your body to someone who was so unchanged by it, he’d moved on to a whole new life without so much as a phone call. You loved Mark. You wouldn’t trade the relationship between you two for anything- or rather, anyone. But the pent up anger from being a side piece to someone who only pretended to care about you to get in your pants was hard to ignore.

“Y/n?” Mark interrupted, and your gaze snapped back to his, humming in question.

“I asked if you were in the mood tonight.” He repeated shyly.

“Oh, uh. Yeah! Sure.” You tried to slide your shorts off awkwardly, the knot on your waistband getting stuck as you rushed to fulfill his ask.

“Stupid pants,” you said, fumbling clumsily with them and quickly getting angry.

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m kinda beat anyway.”

You fiddled with the knot some more, keeping your gaze away from his now, hoping he wouldn’t notice any change in your demeanor.

“No no, it’s cool,” you replied dryly. “Seriously, I want to.”

Mark reached over, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead and retying the string on your pajama shorts.

“I’m not doing anything when you’re all distracted. It’s not right. Go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll go somewhere for breakfast, yeah?”

With one hand gently grazing over your stomach, he reached over your small frame, turning out the lamp and pulling you closer as darkness washed over the room. A small sliver of moonlight through the window shone over your face, and you hoped Mark wouldn’t notice the single tear running down your cheek.

“Do the wires in your mind get sewn together, rubbed and severed by the heat?”

The whole thing was stupid. You knew that, and you couldn’t keep doing this to Mark.

He’d been there for you since the start of your life without Felix, and you never had to doubt the love he had for you. Mark was a permanent fixture in your otherwise monotonous life and the only interesting thing about it, at that.

Maybe this was the universe’s way of reminding you to be grateful for what was here.

And that you were. You made it up to Mark several times since that week, surprising him with new lingerie sets when you could, and cooking a week’s worth of his favorite meals.

“It’s not even my birthday…” he’d always remark through hungry kisses, barely having time to set aside his briefcase before you dropped to your knees and finished him off right there in the hallway.

And things seemed to go back to normal.

Or at least you thought.

The business campaign you were working on was stressful- that, you hadn’t lied to Mark about.

Late nights turned into early mornings in front of your laptop, typing away at spreadsheets and pulling together presentation decks for your boss.

Mark typically knew when to leave you alone, only interrupting to bring you hot coffee and little snacks late into the night, until he’d fall asleep in the bedroom and wait for you to join. Sometimes, your work consumed your ability to sleep.

Tonight, after dinner, Mark tended to his usual routine of brewing you a cup of coffee, knowing it was going to be another late night for you.

Just a few more days of this, you promised him.

He wasn’t mad at your dedication to your work, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss cuddling in bed together.

“Shit,” you heard him say loudly. “We’re out of creamer.”

You glanced up over your laptop.

“Darn. I’ll just have it plain.”

He bent down to the first level of the fridge, peering around like a bottle might suddenly appear.

“Nah, I’ll go buy some. I’ll just be a few,” he said, closing the door and adjusting the knit black beanie on his head.

You looked up at him again, feeling a sense of guilt as he scanned the granite counter for his car keys.

“No no, you stay,” you said to him, lowering your laptop screen but not closing it fully. “I’ll go. I need a break anyway.”

He cocked his head a little. “I don’t even think the grocery store is open this late. Let me go to the convenience store and get one of those small cartons.”

You shook your head again, standing up and reaching for the keys that had been in your eyesight the whole time.

“I’ll go to the one further away. No biggie.”

Mark smirked a little as you pulled on your sneakers. “You’re getting in the way of my plan to secretly buy those cookies I like.”

You let out a gentle laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek and slinging your purse over your shoulder.

“Was already on my shopping list, silly.”

“Love you!” He shouted behind you, laughing as you jokingly waved him off and made your way to your car.

Your favorite convenience store was a few minutes away, by your parents’ house. They didn’t have an extensive selection of groceries, but they did have vanilla coffee creamer, and Mark’s favorite cookies. And that was enough to keep you coming back.

It was the same convenience store you’d practically grown up at, piling rice balls and mochi donuts on the counter after every drunken night out.

So much that the staff knew you by name, often “forgetting” to scan an item or two and keeping it a secret from the store manager.

The little bell chime indicated your entrance, and right away you were met with enthusiastic greetings from the employees.

“Y/n!” the regular employee exclaimed, ushering you to the newly placed display of rice balls.

You chuckled in response. “Just here for creamer, actually! But that is very tempting.”

You made your way around the display to the fridge, grabbing two bottles and hastily finding your place in line.

Only two people stood in front of you, and you scrolled through social media on your phone as they rang up their items and trickled out of the store.

At your turn, you placed both bottles on the counter, suddenly remembering Mark’s cookies you’d forgotten. “Sorry, let me grab one more thing!”

You sauntered two aisles down to the cookies while the cashier scanned, and then stopped when you noticed one box left on the shelf. One that was already being carefully examined by another shopper.

Feeling a sense of discouragement, you pretended to look over the other options, knowing very well Mark didn’t like just any option. He was always very passionate in his request for jam-filled shortbreads.

The shopper stood tall, back faced to you, as they scanned the nutrition labels and shifted the box around in their grip.

Just decide, you urged them mentally.

“Excuse me, are there any more of those?” You spoke suddenly, surprising yourself with your rather sharp tone.

He turned on his heel, a serious expression on his face as his eyes met with the rushed voice.

And you knew immediately.

Despite the black beanie pulled snugly over his locks, oversized hoodie that swallowed his figure, and a thin black mask covering his nose and mouth, you knew in his eyes.

Almond brown eyes filled with warmth and intensity, offset by the familiar beige galaxies that scattered across his eyelids, the rest concealed by his dark mask. What a shame it was, to cover something so beautiful.

You could tell he knew, too, his gaze fixated on yours for a minute, saying nothing as he maintained his tenacious grip on the cardboard box. Your thoughts ran at a record pace, swirling around your head like harsh waves in a tsunami, searching for something- anything to cling on to.

Say nothing, you told yourself. Leave.

And before he could get a word out, you dropped your gaze to the tiled floor below him. “Nevermind. You can keep them.”

The convenience store spun all around you, much like the storm brewing in your head, as you practically sprinted back to the counter and slapped a twenty in front of the employee, who’d already bagged your coffee creamers.

“Keep the change,” you said to him, before snatching the bag off the counter and making a beeline for your car.

Your hands shook as you put the key in the ignition, seeing him exit the store out of your peripheral vision. Like a lost animal searching for safety, his head scanned over the cars in the parking lot, stopping in dismay as he recognized you again, this time through your foggy car window.

Your head remained straight, forced tunnel vision on the giant soda advert plastered on the window of the store in front of you.

And without so much as a glance in his direction, you made your way out of the lot and back toward your apartment.

Hours spent replaying the interaction in your head quickly turned to days, and Mark could tell once again that something wasn’t right. You felt yourself sink back into that place of uncertainty and unresolved doubts.

On top of that, your daily routine was beginning to drive you crazy. Wake up, work, come home, work.

Sleep. Repeat.

It also didn’t help that things between you and Mark had fallen tense in the past few weeks.

Nights you worked late, he often did too, staying at the lab for a few hours extra and coming home more tired than ever. You tried to initiate intimacy with him, but it seemed he was the one declining lately.

During your few minutes together before work, you broke the groggy silence to speak.

“I need to go to my parents’ for a few days.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, cocking his head while chewing his toast. “Your parents’ place? Like, across town? Why?”

You shrugged, swirling a spoon around in your bowl of cereal.

“I need some time. And space.”

He swallowed his bite of toast dramatically. “Are you- I mean, are we okay?”

You reassured him with a small smile. “Yeah, we’re okay. It’s just the stress of work and life. Want to make sure I get time to say hi to mom and dad, you know?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah, for sure. When are you planning on going?”

You got up from your seat at the table, bringing your bowl to the sink and giving it a light rinse. “Tonight. I’m just gonna pack a bag and go straight there after work. I already let my boss know I’ll be out for a couple days.”

Mark nodded again. “Okay, well say hi to them for me. I’ll hold down the fort over here.”

You walked over to him, pressing a little kiss to his temple, and grabbed your laptop.

“We’re okay,” you repeated. “And I love you.”

He didn’t respond, looking down at his food as he pondered your words.

You left for work earlier than usual, stuffing a duffel bag of clothes in your trunk and letting your parents know you’d be there later. The work day went by slowly, projects and emails confirming that you did indeed need a few days away from all this. By the time the end of the day finally rolled around, you wasted no time booking it to your car and changing out your heels for a pair of sneakers.

Your childhood home was on the other side of town, but the rush hour of traffic on a Friday evening doubled the time it took for you to get there. When you did, mom was already out for her night shift, and dad wasn’t even home for the week.

Maybe coming here for the purpose of saying hi to mom and dad was a bit of a lie. But you had been honest to Mark about needing time and space. And several days off. Days you hoped to spend curled up in your childhood bed catching up on sleep.

Your room was largely unchanged. There were still little holes scattered on the walls from where your posters were hung with thumbtacks, but the walls remained void of any new decor. The carpet was the same too, down to the prominent coffee stain you’d gotten on it nearly a decade ago. Your window still gave a clear view of the streets beyond yours, framed artistically by overgrown vines in the front yard.

With a deep sigh, you leaned against the frame of the sill, soaking in the familiarity of it all. It was just like you remembered, and a part of you almost hoped you’d see something different. Maybe even someone.

There was no doubt that the room brought memories of Felix flooding right back. You still remembered the way he’d knock on your window, always giving three straight thumps so you’d know it was him. A habit you found funny, remembering that he’d warn you not to open the window for any less than 3 knocks- because “2 knocks could be a serial killer’s greeting. And one knock could be a bear.”

These walls had heard some of the most obscene confessions, seen some of the most indecorous outfits you’d wear for him and only him. And yet, you found solace in knowing that they also housed some of the most intimate crying sessions, giddy laughter, and a blossoming relationship that would follow you so many years later.

You stepped away from the window, finally making way to your bed and lying down with an exasperated sigh. Maybe a part of you hoped Felix was still in town. Maybe a part of you even came here on the off-chance he would come visit.

Thoughts you shoved to the back of your mind, not having the emotional capacity to deal with the idea that you longed to experience it all over again.

Mornings in your parents’ house were nothing like the way they were at Felix’s. Mom was always asleep for the day, having come home early in the morning from her shift. Dad usually wasn’t home.

Such was the way things were when you awoke the next morning, birds chirping outside your window to indicate the start of a new, sunny day. You rolled over in your tangled sheets, squinting heavy eyes at your alarm clock and catching a glimpse of the time.

9:46am.

You’d surprised yourself with how tired you were, stretching your limbs lazily and staring at the blank ceiling above you. When you finally sat up in bed, the smell of breakfast hit your nose instantly.

The house filled with scents of grilled meat and freshly brewed coffee, and you could make out the faint noises of the toaster popping and oil sizzling.

Mom must have prepared breakfast for your return today. You wasted no time putting on your house slippers and bolting out the door to greet her, already appreciative of her kind gesture. When you turned the corner into the kitchen, a foreign sight caught you off guard.

Your mom stood in front of the stove, scrambling eggs around in a frying pan as you’d predicted.

And sat at the dinner table, stuffing forkfuls of Canadian bacon and sips of hot coffee in his mouth, was Felix.

You audibly gasped, and Felix looked up from his plate to acknowledge you.

He wore a plain white t-shirt, his straight hair hung loosely around his face with no particular placement, yet still somehow perfectly styled.

A pair of silver earrings dangled by his neck as he looked up at you, mouth full of food. In an instant, he pushed his chair out from behind him and stood up, saying nothing as he continued to chew. Without the ability to talk, he gave you a small wave, which you ignored.

You were suddenly self-conscious of your own appearance, looking far too casual in a tank top and shorts, house slippers loudly announcing you’d only just woken up. Your hair was still in yesterday’s work bun almost falling out of the flimsy hair tie, and the lack of makeup was more than hard on the eyes.

Before he could finish chewing to get a sentence out, you shouted out to your mom, who still hadn’t noticed your arrival. “Taking a really important work call in the other room, could you keep it down please?”

She shouted back over the loud sounds of oil sizzling.

“Sure thing, but look who’s here! Ah, it’s burning! Hold on,” And she turned her attention back to the stove.

You looked over at Felix again, who’d finished chewing at this point, still standing awkwardly in front of his plate and fiddling his hands together like a lost child.

“Oh… it’s nice to meet you.” You said, with a little bow, turning around quickly and disappearing back into your room.

You refused to entertain this. You weren’t going to give him what he wanted, to pretend he was interested in your life just to get in your pants one more time. You’d humiliated yourself enough the first time.

Back in your room, you locked the door with force and shoved your desk chair under the knob, triple-checking to ensure it couldn’t be opened. You shut the blinds and hopped back into your bed, wrapping the comforter around you and trying your best to steady your breathing. But it was no use; the tears began anyway.

You can’t remember how long you cried- it must have been hours before you drifted off to sleep again. When you woke up for the second time that day, it was well past 5 in the afternoon.

Your skin was sticky with sweat and your hair was begging to be let out of its knotted mess. When you rolled out of bed, a pounding headache made itself present. Crying and sleeping for hours were always a lethal combination.

After a long shower and some time to think it over, you felt small and stupid again. Were you doing the right thing? What was the point of coming here if not for closure? Why were you even here?

A fleeting voice told you to ditch the whole trip and go back to the apartment. Back to your safe space with Mark, where the two of you could marathon dumb movies and make love on the couch like you always did.

But you quickly dismissed the thought, reminding yourself that you weren’t going to let some dumb fling drive you away from a much-needed vacation at your parents’ place. When you confirmed that the coast was clear, you made your way back out to the kitchen, where your mom sat at the dinner table with a book.

“Hi honey,” she said. “We waited for you, figured you got caught up in that work call of yours.” A slight raise of her eyebrow indicated she knew.

You sighed, sitting on the chair across from her.

“Want to tell me what happened?” She asked.

You shook your head. “Things are just difficult right now. I don’t want to get caught up in… things that I shouldn’t.”

She nodded, setting her book down. “He left you a little gift in the corridor.”

Then she got up from her seat and hoisted her purse over her shoulder. “Leaving for the evening- make sure you lock all the windows before you sleep.”

When she was out of sight, you made your way to the corridor, finding a little white box on the console table by the entrance. It was wrapped neatly with a blue ribbon, in typical Felix fashion. You pulled one end, watching the tie come undone, and carefully lifted one end to reveal the contents inside.

The scent hit you before the sight, and you knew instantly. His signature baked goods.

You were up much earlier the next morning. The fresh summer air beckoned you to go outside, which you did, completing an almost 3-mile jog. Post-exercise, you ate a full breakfast, and then called Mark, his phone going straight to voicemail.

It wasn’t typical of Mark to sleep in, but you knew he was busy at the lab late these days, so you opted for a quick text instead.

Late night again? Call me when you can. Love you :)

There was something so freeing about having no plans, no to-do list, and better yet, no monotonous routine like you had most days.It was like you could do anything you wanted while you were here- which you did. You watched old reruns of cartoons, flipped through ancient yearbooks kept in boxes out in the storage shed, and even repaired some of the flawed spots on your walls with a can of white paint you found. You also finished piles of chores around the house for your parents, going so far as to fold and hang all their laundry for them. By the time you’d put away the last of the socks, it was well past 5 in the afternoon.

The loud sound of the doorbell startled you from inside your parents’ shared closet. Had they been expecting any packages? The gardener, perhaps? You cautiously made your way to the front door, smoothing down your blouse and adjusting your shorts that had ridden up while you worked. You unlatched the door and opened it, feeling a drop in your chest as you locked eyes with the figure.

“Hi,” he said, keeping his gaze locked on yours.

You cleared your throat. “Hi…Can I…help you?”

His lips parted slightly, closing again as his expression changed to that of dejection.

“Um… I just came to drop this off.”

You looked at his hands; which clutched a little white envelope.

“Okay,” you replied, reaching out to take it from him. He pulled his hands back a little so that the envelope was just out of reach.

You looked up at him again with a questioning look.

“Did I… I mean, how are you?” He asked awkwardly.

“Me?” You said in reply, feeling annoyed at his persistence for an interaction. “Is this a new mailman greeting? I’m good. Can I get my mail now?”

Your heart dropped as soon as you finished speaking. It was a despicable bit you kept up, enough to hurt even yourself.

His lips pulled together in a thin line, raising his eyebrows and looking down at his feet.

“Ouch. Yeah, here you go.” He handed you the envelope, turning around and marching off without a word.

You watched his head hang as he took confident strides away from you, getting farther out of reach with each passing second.

“Wait,” you called after him, a moot point as he only kept walking.

As soon as he was out of sight, you slammed the front door, eyes welling up with tears as you slid down the door and dropped to the floor. Why had you said something so stupid? You imagined yourself in his shoes briefly, shaking your head at the thought of him reducing your existence to that of a delivery person.

It was the third time this week you’d fucked up a chance at making amends with Felix. And by far the worst one- there was no way he’d be back any time soon. Or ever again, for that matter.

You wiped tears with the back of your hand, suddenly remembering the letter he came here to drop off. After a few deep breaths, you examined it in your shaky hands, thumbing over the ink on the back that spelled your name. His handwriting looked the same as it did so many years ago- so neat and carefully placed. You tore it open timidly, pulling out a little yellow card.

Y/n,

It’s been a while

I hope you still like brownies!

I’m going to the new coffee shop across the street tomorrow if you’d like to join

9am?

PS- I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced!

You read the letter once, then twice, then six more times before you could even comprehend what it was.

Despite your ingenuous behavior all week, he was still willing to try and fix things with you. That was, up until a few minutes ago. The invitation still sat in your hand, but it would be a miracle if he agreed to go anywhere near you after the stunt you pulled.

You tossed the letter aside, burying a tear-stained face in your hands as you began to cry again at the thought that you’d likely never see him again.

He’d slipped through your fingers yet again, only this time, it was entirely your fault.

“You’re wasting your time with lame excuses and lies”

Why were you even trying? In what universe would Felix agree to see you again after the stunt you pulled?

It didn’t matter. Chalk it up to pure delusion and naivety, but you were up bright and early, all dressed up and ready to meet for coffee with him. If he didn’t show, you’d surely owe him an apology, which your ego silently prayed you wouldn’t have to track him down to deliver. And if he did, things would be unbearably awkward. You’d lose either way- but that’s not to say he hadn’t already had his share of loss dealing with your abhorrent attitude.

You were grateful you packed some of your nicer clothes while you stayed at your parents’. You’d settled on a feminine white peasant top, a pair of fitted slacks, and spent the morning curling your hair to convince him you weren’t always an unpresentable slob despite the way you’d appeared all week.

When you arrived, the shop was teeming with young couples and coffee connoisseurs. The lively atmosphere combined with gloomy warm lighting made for a romantic date location- forcing you to remind yourself that this was not in fact a date. You verily assumed it to be a working session- one where you two would sort out the awkward encounters and establish boundaries again. Followed by some brief small talk and a proper send-off so that you could finally shut him out of your mind for good.

A short staircase led you to the upper level, where most of the tables were neatly decorated with glass vases of daisies that thrived in the sun beams illuminated along the rows of windows. You clutched your bag, looking around nervously and trying your best to steady the rapid thump of your heartbeat in your throat. Couples. Couples. A family. A pair of sisters.

And on the last table, Felix.

He looked mature in a sleek white turtleneck and dangly silver earrings, his ashy locks tucked neatly behind both ears. As you approached the table, he looked up for a brief second, shifting his eyes away once again as you pulled out the chair across from him and took a seat.

You waited for him to say something, which he didn’t.

Conversely, your pride didn’t allow you to speak first.

“You’re blonde,” you said suddenly, your voice coming out much shakier than you had anticipated.

He focused on you again, expression unchanged.

“So you do remember me.”

Link to part 2 here

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ladyloveandjustice · 5 months

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My Favorite New Manga and Graphic Novels I Read in 2023

It's time to take a look at the comics and manga I read this year! I read a whopping 78 manga and graphic novels in all. Here's a link to my Goodreads year in books (the manga is at the beginning, the novels start with Siren Queen) and my storygraph wrap up.

I also read 36 novels! If you want to see my favorites, check out my reviews here!

And finally, I've got the continuing manga series I've enjoyed this year here, so check that post out too!

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen

This is a tale about a first-generation Vietnamese-American boy struggling with coming out to his mother. He connects with his mother through fairytales-- she uses them to express her journey as an immigrant, and he uses them to explore his queerness and identity as a Vietnamese kid growing up in America. It's an absolutely gorgeous book full of Trung Le Nguyen's signature stunning art. The fantastical, ethereal fairy tales are weaved beautifully into the lives of the characters. The book explores how fairy tales can form connection, can express culture, can tap deeply into something real and true, and can offer tragedy and catharsis. The protagonist uses fairy tales to write his own story, and the ending is lovely and moving.

Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles by Mark Russell and Mike Feehan

You may know Mark Russell from his darker, socially aware re-imagining of the Flintstones, which made quite a splash on Tumblr with this post. Well, I had pleasure of meeting him at a local convention, and I finally got his comic re-imagining of Snagglepuss, also of Hanna-Barbera. He re-imagines the titular pink puma as a closeted gay playwright in the 50's dealing with McCarthyism. It's as wild as it sounds,but also really digs into the politics of the time, the struggle of standing against oppression and how art fights through suppression and censorship. It's tragic, hopeful, poignant and full of historical references. I enjoyed it ! Definitely be cautious if you're deeply disturbed by homophobia and suicide.

The Summer Hikaru Died by Mokumokuren

A story about a teenage boy, Yoshiki, who realizes that his best friend and crush Hikaru has died and been replaced by a strange eldritch being who is imitating him. But, missing his loved one and desperate to cling to any piece of him, Yoshiki decides to keep on having a relationship with this mysterious entity. This book's horror is visceral and sublime, especially the bizarre, creepy, beautiful body horror involving the being who replaced Hikaru. It's an exploration of anxieties involving grief, relationships, and sexuality that hits just right, and the atmosphere layered with dread is top notch. I love me some messed up relationships and unknowable queer monsters, and this book delivers.

Chainsaw Man, Look Back and Goodbye Eri by Tatsuki Fujimoto

Chainsaw Man needs no introduction, but I did end up really enjoying the story of the doggy-devil boy hunting other devils. It got so tragic and intense at the end, with lots of great surreal horror imagery and darkly funny moments. I'm impressed it went so hard, though the random powers that kept piling up made what was happening hard to follow at times, especially in fights. I'm also enjoying the current weird arc starring a class-A disaster girl and the demon sharing her body.

Look Back

I really do enjoy how Fuijimoto writes messy pre-teen/teenage girls. They ring so true. The manga follows the fraught friendship between two girls as they create manga, exploring the struggle of art mixing with real relationships, and how someone keeps creating after tragedy. It's a little hard to follow at times (especially since I have to differentiate the leads based on hairstyle), but it's a good read.

Goodbye Eri

Probably my least favorite of the three, but it's a fun read- a weird ride that examines the thin line between fiction and reality in art and makes good use of Fujimoto's cinephile background and signature gaslight gatekeep girlboss characters.

Is Love the Answer? by Uta Isaki

The story follows a teenage girl, Chika, who has always struggled with not being attracted to anyone. When Chika enters college, she meets queer people all across the spectrum of asexuality, and starts exploring her own identity. As an ace, this is the best story about asexuality that I've read. It was a nuanced look at asexuality and queerness and all the variations. Chika's journey and how she found her community was moving and poignant. It's a honest, moving look at relationships and identity, and how complicated and hard to define both of those things can be. I loved the moments of Chika imagining herself as an alien to explore and cope, and how she bonded with people through magical girl shows and other geekery. My favorite new manga of the year, it really connected with me!

The Girl that Can’t Get a Girlfriend by Mieri Hiranishi

Oh girl, I've been there. This is a fun autobiographical comic about a butch4butch lesbian's struggles finding a partner in a word that favors butch/femme, and it's just an honest look at the messiness of loneliness and relationships. I also appreciate that crushing on Haruka in Sailor Moon and becoming a HaruMichi stan was the beginning the author's queer awakening because uh...same! She has taste, and is truly relatable.

Qualia the Purple: The Complete Manga Collection by Hisamitsu Ueo and Shirou Tsunashima

See my review of the light novel here for my general thoughts on the story, since it's adapted pretty faithfully. I do think the manga is overall the best experience though, because the illustrations break up the detailed explanations of quantum mechanics a bit, and it includes a bit of extra content that fleshes things out, especially withthe ending.

The Single Life: 60 year old lesbian who is single and living alone by Akiko Morishima

Just like it says on the tin, this focuses on a 60-year-old single lesbian. And definitely the shortest thing on here, since only one 30 page chapter is out. It's a grounded story about a woman looking back on her journey to finding her identity, touching on sexism in the workplace and other challenges. It paints a portrait of a proudly gay elder who's still perfectly content being single and feels fulfilled by the life she had rather than regretting past relationships. I definitely want to see more.

Daemons of the Shadow Realm by Hiromu Arakawa

Arakawa's latest, the story is about a boy who lives in a small village with his little sister is imprisoned and has to carry out a mysterious duty...but then the village is attacked, supernatural daemons awaken, and everything he knows might be wrong. I'm enjoying this fun romp so far! It delivers an really nice plot twist right out the gate (and an excellent subversion of the usual shonen "must-protect-my-saintly-sister" narratives). It boasts Arakawa's usual fun cast and interesting world (and cool ladies). There's some slight tone and pacing issues in the first part- there's so much time spent explaining mechanics the lead doesn't really get to react to his life turning upside down. But it starts smoothing out by the second volume. I'm excited to see what's next!

Superman: Space Age by Mark Russell and Michael Allred

This is a retelling of Superman set throughout the late fifties to early eighties that has Superman interact with the political and social upheaval of the time and question his own role in things. It explored the Superman mythos through a lot of cool new angles, and has a good Lois (why yes she would break Watergate) which is how I always measure a Superman adaptation. My one complaint is, while I liked some of the things it did with Batman, the ending with the Joker was pretty weak. The ending of the overall comic will also be bizarre for anyone not uses to how weird comics can get, but I think I dug it.

#DRCL by Shin'ichi Sakamoto

A manga retelling of Dracula that focuses on Mina as the protagonist and imagines the characters at an English prep school. It adds a lot of diversity to the characters and has exquisite, evocative art. I'm curious where it will go and what it intends to do with all it's changes (especially Lucy), because right now it's mostly vibes and creepiness and the direction isn't clear.

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transmasc-wizard · 3 months

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Writblr Intro •°☆

it's me! I live! hi again :)

[ID: an aesthetic photo header of books, a sweater, a typewriter and a candle at a window. end ID]

ABOUT ME:

You can call me Beck or Nathan, I'm a teen writer who used to be really active back in 2021/2022 but had a. really. really long writing slump... 😔. but I'm back now!! (I was chaotic-queer-disaster.)

I love fantasy, horror, and queer stories. I also explore disability a lot in my work as someone with both born and acquired disabilities.

some of my favourite themes to explore are identity, loss/grief, hope, friendship, gender (especially in horror), the challenges of morality, and mental illness

I'm looking for fellow writers to talk to and uplift! I'm especially looking if you're any of the following: queer, disabled, teenaged, horror writer, or fantasy writer. (But all are welcome!)

My main projects are under the cut :)

[ID: a dark academia aesthetic photo of a pair of glasses on a cursive-written letter. end ID]

My Projects:

Bad Things Happen - an apocalyptic horror novel. After a party, three young adults get into a particularly nasty car crash. It rips a small hole in the universe, and they begin to be plagued with identical strings of bad luck. Their luck gets worse and more expansive every day, and soon they're fighting to stop the world itself from decaying around them. [Status: draft zero.]

The Other Ones - a half-epistolary horror novel. A group of true crime podcasters go into the strange forest on the edge of town to investigate a disappearance from 2 years ago, only to emerge hours later--covered in blood, no memory of what happened, and accompanied by the missing girl. [Status: outlining.]

Suicide Ghosts - a film script about a trans boy who is sent to an all-girls school and makes friends with the ghost girl who haunts his dorm room. As the school year goes on, they discover corruption, more hauntings, and the horror of holding identities you never asked for. [Status: outlining.]

Untitled Fairytale WIP/"gfs" - YA fantasy series with dystopia undertones. If you've been around for awhile, you'll remember it as GFS/GFW1! A group of teenagers discover they're linked to an ancient prophecy that states they're cursed to awaken gods who have slept since the last divine war. If this happens, desolation is inevitable. They must find a way to avert the prophecy--while an unidentified figure is doing everything in their power to make it come true. [Status: rewriting/reworking.]

If you've read this far, thank you! I'm really glad to be back and I hope to have a lot of fun in this community again :)

#pinned post #writblr intro #writblr #writeblr #writerblr #writers of tumblr

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vivalarevolution · 1 year

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𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓮 𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

Xavier Thorpe x Vampire Reader

Request: „Hii, could you do a one-shot with Xavier x Reader? I was thinking of friends to lovers, they're having a horror movie night, and in one of the films, two characters confess to each other when they're about to get killed. Xavier and reader start "hypothetically" talking about themselves in that situation and they end up confessing their feelings for each other.‟

A/N:Request from @starlight-poet . I hope you and others will like my work. Contains slight smut, minor do not interact. English isn't my native language , please be aware of mistakes.

Also, I decided to take inspiration from The Vampire Diaries when it comes to vampires, for me this adaptation is one of the best depictions of vampirism.

-Hello, stranger - the girl said, smiling as she walked inside.

-Well hello - replied the boy, letting her through the door, after a while closing it so that no one would disturb them.

The girl, having been in the brunette's room many times, easily found herself in it. Leaning onto the bed, she turned to look at the laptop beside her. On the desktop, she saw the titles of the movies they were supposed to watch today. Following each of them, she frowned, and after a moment she smiled gently at the boy.

-So, a marathon of horror movies, huh? - asked the teenager, leaning on the hand.

-Your favorite - he said, sitting down next to her.

-I'm glad you remember - she said, smiling sweetly.

-As if I could forget - he admitted, and Y/n gave him an even wider smile before taking a comfortable spot on the bed.

Xavier let her lie down on his chest, as was in his habit. For as long as he could remember, his vampire friend was clingy, but he only found out about it during the blossoming of their friendship, which developed unexpectedly considering the fact that they didn't play together well from the beginning, only to later become like two pieces of a puzzle ,connected to each other.

Girl was secretive and feisty. She often said things that would hurt, but Thorpe realized over time that it was her defensive instinct that she tested those around her and he was persistent enough to now look at a tender and caring version of Y/n who loved to laugh. And he loved listening to her.

-Why there is a couple in love in the slasher. This is not right film genre. I need a sea of blood, not kisses - the teenager grunted, thus waking the green-eyed boy from his thoughts.

His gaze was focused on her face, which was watching the movie in consternation and concentration, but he quickly moved it to the screen in front of him, wanting to understand what she was complaining about.

-Some people while on their deathbed want to tell others they care about them - he said, smiling slightly when she rolled her eyes.

The vampire got up from her current seat, standing nearby and clutching her heart.

-Xavier my love, we may not live to see the sunrise, but I want you to know that my heart belongs to you - Y/n said, trying to sound emotional, but then she burst out laughing.

Brunette shook his head, closing his eyes.

-We'll get out of this together, I promise you - he announced, playing along with her - I won't let you get hurt.

Teenager giggled, leaning on the metal railing of the bed. Turning her head slightly to the side, she stared at the boy's face in front of her.

-And what will you do? What if one of us doesn't make it out alive in the end?- she asked, frowning in feigned concern.

-I would die for you. I would kill for you - he announced seriously -No matter which decision I had to make. I'd happily make both.

His tone of voice was no longer mocking, no longer artificial. His heart was beating calmly, as if what he said didn't matter much to him. But eyes, eyes never lie, and they didn't lie in this case. There was so much emotion in them. Care, hope, joy and affection. Everything she hadn't expected during this moment.

-Xavier - she said, and only the tone of her voice made him understand that he had been caught.

-Y/n - he replied, looking at her expectantly.

-Is it true? - she asked quietly, but the boy heard her too - You don't play anymore?

Thorpe got up from the mattress, movie was long forgotten.

Taking a few steps, he stood in front of her, towering over her body, which seemed even smaller, even more delicate from this perspective. His hand rested uncertainly on her cheek, and she immediately snuggled into his large hand in response.

-If you don't believe me...compel me - he confessed, looking into her irises - You will know everything you need.

-No - she denied immediately, shaking her head - Bianca did it and she lost you...I can't lose you - said the girl, closing her eyes because of the heaviness of emotions that flowed through her body.

-You won't - he stated with a soothing smile on his face - No matter what you did, I probably wouldn't be able to let you go. I care about you, and I hope you care about me too.

-Oh Xavier - the teenager whispered, grabbing his wrist -Of course I care about you. I care about you as much as I am in love with you.

The green-eyed boy smiled contentedly, then he joined their lips in a kiss that was getting hotter, more needy and desperate by the minute. Their mouths danced together as did their tongues that came shortly after.

Y/n felt an inner hunger grow inside her, and then she realized her fangs had come out enough to draw blood. Before she knew it, the delicious taste of Thorpe's blood spread across her palate, fueling her thirst in tiny drops.

Veins appeared under her eyes, and the whites turned black. When the girl shook herself off, she almost jumped back as if she had been burned, running to the other end of the room. Covering her mouth with her hand, as she tried to calm herself.

-Something happened? Did I did something wrong?- he asked worriedly, trying to approach her.

-No, no - said the vampire, breathing deeply -It's just been a long time since I drank human blood - she confessed quietly.

Xavier only then realized the small cut in his mouth, which sting when he ran his tongue over it. Quickly ,pushing aside the wound that was not important to him, he slowly approached the teenager, trying to take her face in his hands, but she turned her head every time, not allowing him to see her.

-Hey, hey - he whispered tenderly -Let me see - he added, catching her by the shoulders.

This time the girl gave in, turning around. However, her head was still hanging down, still trying to keep some secret. The boy took her chin and lifted it up. Her darker side was revealed to him, the one that reflected who she was to the world, a dangerous predator. But to him, she was still the same girl who laughed with him, who admired and inspired his drawings. She was still his Y/n.

-My pretty girl - he whispered, trying to cheer her up before he bent his head, kissing her soft lips again.

The vampire gave in almost immediately, feeling the warmth flooding the inside of her heart. Her hands were located on the brunette's neck, suddenly desperately grabbing him as the last line of life.

Xavier lifted her body up, and she wrapped her legs around him like a vine in response. But as their bodies fell onto the bed, their lips parted.

The teenagers took deep breaths as they looked at each other. Waiting for developments.

-You are hungry - he said unexpectedly when the girl tried to approach him - Take my blood.

Those words made her stop moving. Her body seemed to stiffen, only the next touch of the brunette slightly relaxed her.

-I won't do it, Xavier - she said, shaking her head -Feeding from a vein requires incredible control. One slip and I won't be able to turn back.

-I want you to do it. I want you to feel better - he said stubbornly, grabbing her neck with his hand - I trust you.

Y/n looked uncertainly into the boy's eyes, but found no hesitation or fear, only warmth.

Descending agonizingly slowly towards his pulse, she settled herself more comfortably on his lap, placing her hands on his shoulders before her lips touched his white, smooth neck. The teenager brushed his skin in every uncovered place, every now and then hooking on it with sharp fangs, causing Thorpe to shiver.

She stopped after a long moment, kissing the crook of his neck one last time before sinking her fangs into it.

Xavier grabbed her hips, squeezing them tightly as the vampire fed on him. Her mouth insistently sucked his skin, avoiding losing even a drop of red liquid.

Suddenly, her pelvis began to move back and forth, creating a small movement that was still felt by the boy, which made him moan softly, feeling the friction around his member. Y/n hearing his voice, moved her loins harder, more confident, and in response he began to direct the movements of her body, shamelessly leading them towards sweet bliss.

When the teenager broke away from the green-eyed boy neck, her loud moan was heard in the room, followed by many more. He, absorbing them like the greatest praise, only rewarded her by meeting her with his movements, after a while attacking her neck with hot and wet kisses that marked all the skin available to his eye.

The two continued in this dance until the overwhelming pleasure took over their bodies. The girl's womanhood trembled from the intensity of her orgasm, leaving behind a wet stain on Xavier's pants, which was dirty not only by Y/n herself but probably by himself as well.

Breathing heavily, he snuggled into the crook of her neck, stroking her shiny, thick locks.

They did not know how much time had passed, but the brunette shook himself only when the body above him began to move. The teenager straightened up to be able to look into his eyes before she bit her own wrist, drawing blood. Slowly sucking on her skin, she took enough substance into her mouth to then kiss Xavier, letting the liquid into his mouth, which closed the wound on his neck at a surprisingly fast pace.

-Was it good? - asked the brunette, staring at her face - Do you feel better?

Y/n smiled warmly, connecting their foreheads together.

-I feel better than great, if I'm honest - she confessed in a light tone of voice - And you, did it hurt a lot?

-No - he said - Nothing that I will not suffer for my girl - he added, smiling cunningly, and she laughed gently.

-I love you Xavier - girl confessed, snuggling into his chest, soothingly listening to his heartbeat.

The boy in response hugged her closer, putting his face to the top of her head, inhaling her scent, his hand gliding along her leg.

-And I love you Y/n - he whispered, brushing her jaw with his lips, which began to roam her body again that night.

And she allowed everything, becoming his favorite canvas.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x fem!reader #xavier thorpe wednesday series #wednesday x reader #wednesday smut #nevermore #xavier thorpe fluff #teen romance #vampires #supernatural #wednesday #wednesday fanfic #friends to lovers #wednesday netflix #xavier thrope x you

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platonic-pals-punchout · 6 months

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Epithet Erased (webshow & lite novel) | Ace Attorney (video game series & anime)

[This poll was made by silly mistake on the part of the tournament runner, who misread the bracket. Sorry! It won't count towards the overall tournament. Followers have voted to make Gio/Molly PPP's mascots if they win tho!]

Giovanni Potage & Molly Blyndeff:

1. THEY’RE SO SILLYYYYYYY i love them. they’re such a prime example of friendship with an age gap in media, which, i think needs to happen a bit more. i have friends older than me! i have friends younger than me! and also they’re just. goofy. silly 2. Would any friendship bracket truly be complete without this dynamic duo? She’s a serious an disillusioned elementary school student, resigned to her miserable lot in life after years of neglect and doing her family’s taxes. He’s a wacky and optimistic teenager turned supervillain, here to sweep her away from her abusive family. Together, they commit CRIMES! 3. She is an anxious child who has the power to dumb down noises or impacts to help her deal with the literal everything in her life, as she has to balance school and her family’s toy store, especially as her father and sister seem to prioritize their own selves and not care about the family as a whole. Molly is like 11 or something and has to do her family’s taxes! He is a villainous mastermind!…well, he says he is. In actuality, Giovanni is a captain in the Bonzai Blasters, with ambitions of being promoted to Vice Principal…or even Associate Justice or Valedictorian! (Yes. This is how that system is organized) But unlike the rest, he prioritizes the wellbeing of his minions above all else. He’s comfortable with his masculinity, as he knits for his minions and packs them all some soup in case they get hungry. Oh! He also has the power of soup. He can make soup, make steam of soup, and every 13th physical hit from him deals critical damage (that has nothing to do with soup. It’s just what he does). After a heist gone wrong, these two meet, and Giovanni adopts Molly as one of his minions (giving her the minion name “Beartrap”, on account of her bear hoodie. She likes bears). Together, they thwart/do a heist and steal a valuable amulet. Giovanni also distances Molly from the Banzais when the cops show up, so she will not have to worry about legal troubles. Not spoiling much about the book (Prison of Plastic, go read it), but Giovanni continues to stand up for Molly against her family, who continues to write her off. He tries to get her sister to connect with her and soften up. He can’t do much with the dad because he sucks. Giovanni makes sure Molly knows how cool she is as a person and that she doesn’t let herself be walked all over by other people. He helps her stand up for herself, and in turn, she helps him with crime.

Maya Fey & Phoenix Wright:

1. Quite frankly I don’t think they will win. They are constantly being tormented and experiencing the horrors and this poll would be no different. 2. they literally cannot die no matter what hell canon puts them through. fall off that bridge n cliff to a deathly boy! get kidnapped like 4 times girl! when she gets kidnapped like the first time, they had to make a new sprite for Phoenix coz he didn’t look devasted and depressed enough. Power of friendship though! and she is OKI! :) 3. The most iconic attorney and assistant pair in the series. Phoenix canonically ran onto a burning bridge to try to save Maya when she was in danger. His call with her got cut off once and he left the country to go make sure she was safe. She’s been kidnapped twice to be used as leverage against him and both times she was more worried about him than herself. She once jumped in front of a taser to try to protect him. He’s also defended her from murder accusations like four times. Their relationship defines the original game trilogy even more than the Wright-Edgeworth relationship does. Other Ace Attorney games wish they could replicate this dynamic. They got added to a fighting game as a single unit where they work together to fight. They both think they’re the reasonable one in this friendship, despite neither of them actually deserving that title.

Note: This blog is run & followed by aromantics. Insisting any pairs are ~actually romantic~ will not only cause you to be blocked on the spot, but you’ll out yourself as someone not safe to be queer around. No one wants to hear how stupid you look with those shipping goggles on.

#Round 4 #part 1 #platonic pals punchout #tournament #character tournament #team tournament #fandom poll #ace attorney #nickandmaya #epithet erased #prison of plastic spoilers

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lanaluthorlang · 7 months

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early smallville is so funny. students are dying or hospitalized every week. clark is the worst liar, but it's okay bc he's just a boy. the colors are so soft and warm. the fashion is awful. the special effects are either cheesy or straight up body horror. the twenty year old has no friends. actually his best friend is a teenager, and this isn't commented on at all. a fifteen year old girl runs the local coffee shop. clark is always hanging around crime scenes and nobody really questions about it. lex isn't even evil, he just talks like that. in fact, he can't go three sentences without mentioning how he and clark are the absolute bestest of friends. they're soulmates. nothing will ever get in the way of their friendship. ever. it's all very homoerotic. I really hope clark kisses lana this week. cut to the luthors talking like they're in a shakespearean drama. oh no, lex got hit in the head. again. where's pete? who? the kents are the only good parents. actually jonathan is kind of a jerk to people outside his circle. the kents are beacons of humanity. the politics are dodgy but don't think about it too much. did I mention the opening song slaps?

#smallville #ramblings

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lotties-ashwagandha · 2 years

Note

Fem reader! Being a Baratheon and falling dearly in love with Rhaenyra? Maybe at the beginning they kinda started with the wrong foot, but that made them feel attracted to one another

Chef kiss to your fics 🤌

MIRROR MY ADORATION

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader

word count: 842

notes and warnings: sorry this took so long!! i’ve been having a bit of writer’s block and my dog died and then we got a puppy!! also this flashes from adult rhaenyra to teenage rhaenyra

taglist: @cartoonpeoples @mayfair-fleur @cordeliass @paulsonsratched @thedeconstructionist @goodeday2u @traumatisedfangirl

You did not bother to knock at the door to her chambers — you knew her schedule by heart, and you kept tabs on her, your constant worry paying off.

Rhaenyra had just finished dressing for the day, her servants having just been dismissed from her chambers. She stood by the mirror, running a brush through the pale waves falling over her shoulders.

She smiled as she saw you come up behind her, letting you take the brush and tend to her.

“Good morning,” she said, her exhaustion obvious. Only a few days ago she had given birth to another son.

“Good morning. Really, you shouldn’t be out of bed,” you said gently, “the realm will go on while you rest for a few days.”

She shook her head, taking your free hand and holding it to her chest. Her loving expression enveloped you completely, her profound strength. “We both know that’s no option. I cannot show weakness.”

“Resting isn’t weakness.”

“I know,” she smiled, “but we seem to be the only ones at court who think so.”

You offered her a small smile, continuing to brush her hair. It reminded you of the first time the two of you had met, when you had accidentally bursted into her chambers while trying to find your own, a Baratheon guest having come to attend the revelation of the heir to House Targaryen. “Do you remember, all those years ago, when I invaded your chambers?”

Rhaenyra laughed warmly, nodding and grasping your hand tighter. “I half wanted to strangle you, yes. I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Me too.”

—

You rushed through the hall, searching for the room you had been promised. The guard that had given you directions had been terribly vague, and frankly you had no idea where you were going.

Eventually, you found where you were going. Two guards were positioned outside of the chamber doors, watching you suspiciously.

“Do you have an appointment here?” One of them asked.

You scoffed. “Of course I do.”

You bursted into the room, sure the guard was completely morose.

Abruptly, you stopped.

Princess Rhaenyra stood with her maids, half-dressed and watching you in horror.

You sprinted out of the bedroom, muttering a half-hearted apology before fleeing. You were sure you had lost any chance of saving your family’s honor at court, any offer of highborn marriage out of the question, your life completely sunk…

And other than that, you were just very simply horrifically embarrassed.

Out of all of the chambers you could have invaded, you had to have elected those of Rhaenyra Targaryen.

—

Rhaenyra laughed gently at the recollection.

“I was so embarrassed,” you admitted, running your fingers through her hair and burying your head in her neck.

“You were embarrassed? I was the one half-dressed with a random girl bursting into my bedroom!”

At this you giggled, shaking your head and moving to pour the two of you some wine. “How strangely our friendship began.”

“Friendship, darling?”

“Well… whatever it is we have between us,” you smirked.

“I know, I feel a bit cheated,” she teased, “you saw me naked before we started our escapades.”

You shook your head. “Do you remember how awkwardly we conversed after your father named you heir?”

—

You pretended not to see Rhaenyra Targaryen as she approached you. She had been proclaimed as heir to the Iron Throne only minutes before, the nobles of the court now mingling after the celebration.

You couldn’t ignore her now — she was right in front of you.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” you muttered, avoiding her eyes.

“I was told you had trouble finding your bedroom,” she said. “Allow me to escort you.”

You nodded, following her.

You had assumed that empty hallways would make things better, but they only became worse. A heavy awkwardness accompanied the silence present between you, ever-present and inescapable.

“I’m sorry for what happened earlier,” you whispered.

Rhaenyra offered you a small smile. “It’s quite alright, I understand… but if you’re truly sorry, perhaps you wouldn’t mind joining me in the gardens tomorrow afternoon to make up for it.”

A great relief washed over you like a wave. The prospect of spending an afternoon with her had your mind spinning in circles with excitement, your chest buzzing. “Of course. That sounds lovely.”

And the awkwardness of the silence disappeared as quickly as it had come.

—

“I thought it was so smooth of me to invite you into the gardens,” Rhaenyra reminisced. “I thought it was quite romantic.”

“It was, to me,” you admitted.

“You intimidated me so.”

“Why?”

“I suppose it was because I knew from the start that I loved you,” she said gently. “Even though I hated you a bit in those first couple of hours.”

You chuckled. “I appreciate it. You terrified me as well.”

She leaned against you, resting her head on your shoulder.

You basked in the warmth of each other’s presence. Years had passed, and somehow fate had kept you united.

You knew, that after such turmoil endured, that your love would be forever.

#hotd #rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #game of thrones #wlw #house of the dragon

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renjunniex · 10 months

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Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Ice Pick

Prompt: You haven’t seen Isaac since that night and it’s been effecting you more than you care to admit. However, after finding out Derek is turning teenagers, you have more dangerous things to worry about.

a/n: So i don’t think there’s gonna be a lot of issac and y/n in this chapter :(( but i hope you guys still find it enjoyable! I really love writing her friendship between Scott and Stiles. I know we've seen a lot of the bond between Stiles and y/n so im excited to add more to the bond of Scott and y/n this time!

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

It’s been a little while since that night on the full moon, you haven’t seen Isaac or Derek so you couldn’t even ask the so called ‘sour wolf’ on whether Isaac was okay or not. You finally told Scott about what happened on the field that day and it was nice for you two just to talk about everything. Everything ended up including how you felt about Isaac, which was definitely embarrassing to come clean about. You still remember the slight tear that had traveled down your face as Scott held your hand. Scott had made it clear that everything was okay and when you saw Isaac again, you would be able to talk to him about everything for real.

To say you dwelled on it the last few days would be an understatement, it plagued your mind every second of everyday. Where was he? Was he okay? Was he mad at you?

You grumbled in frustration, giving your cheeks slight taps, you could worry some more later. Right now, you would just let yourself be entertained by Allison dominating Scott at the rock climb.

“For a werewolf, he’s really bad at this,” you said, looking at Stiles.

He laughed, “Yeah, at this rate, I could beat him.”

“Okay, don’t get too ahead of yourself, you can’t even beat me.” Stiles looked at you, “Uh yeah, that’s because you cheat,” he sassed back.

“How do you cheat at rock climb,” you exclaimed.

Stiles folded his arms, “You just do,” by now Scott had joined the two of you along with Allison, “Alright you two, chill out.” You pointed at Stiles accusingly, “He started it!” The boy gasped in horror as if the accusation had pierced him but before he could make a comeback, Coach had already called for him.

“Alright, next two! Stilinski, Erica, let’s go!”

Your expression dropped, Erica was called. The poor girl was never good at these types of things, not to mention, you could tell she struggled with being in front of other people. It didn’t help that half the school took any opportunity to laugh at her. In the end, you did truly feel bad for her, you tried to reach out but every try was a failure. She would get these big ‘deer stuck in headlights’ eyes and stutter off an apology before escaping through to the nearest door.

Your attention went to the two of them as they started to make their way up the wall. Stiles surprisingly made his way up and down pretty fast, he whipped around when he hit the ground to send you a smug grin. Erica on the other hand, barely made it off the ground before she had started to hyperventilate.

“Erica, you dizzy? Is it vertigo?” You gave Coach a confused look at the suggestion and you weren’t the only one.

“Vertigo’s a dysfunction of the vestibular system of the inner ear. She’s just freaking out.” Lydia explained with a roll of her eyes. Everyone continued to look up at Erica.

“I’m fine,” she called out.

“Coach, maybe it’s not safe,” Allison voiced her concern, “you know she’s epileptic.” Coach’s head snapped towards her in shock, “Why doesn’t anybody tell me this stuff?” You raised an eyebrow at him, “It would be in her file.” He waved you off before going back to Erica.

“Erica, you’re fine. Just kick off from the wall,” he explained slowly, “there’s a mat to catch you.” She nodded ever so slightly before slowly separating from the wall and gliding down towards the mat. Coach supported her weight as she regained her balance. “You’re alright, shake it off,” he said lightly. You had reached out to take her hand but she had already started making her way through the crowd. You could tell she was embarrassed. How could she not be? Half the class was chuckling at her misfortune like it was some kind of comedy show. Walking up to Scott, your eyes kept burning into her back, making sure she was physically okay.

“They’re all such jackasses,” you remarked. Scott’s attention was now on you, he agreed before his shoulders dropped in concern.

Soon enough class was over, you were in the girl’s locker room when you felt your eyes glow. You hid your face from the rest of the girls but Allison must have seen because her hand was on your shoulder in a second, “Y/N what’s wrong?” Shaking your head, you shrugged her hand off slightly. “I don’t know, probably nothing, I still haven’t really learned to control it,” you suggested. It convinced the dark haired girl enough because she turned back to her gym locker to continue what she was previously doing. You did as well, opening your locker you looked in the small mirror you had attached to the door. Examining your face slightly, your eyes glowed once more, this time something in your mind snapped. You flung your body around, staring at the door.

“Erica.”

Allison looked at you once more, “What?” She questioned. She never got an answer, you had already sprinted out the door. Allison called for you, following you down the hallway.

“Scott!” You screamed noticing his figure just barely before he disappeared into the dark gym. You followed him, feet slamming heavily on the gym floor. The sound of others rushing towards you guys could be heard as Scott caught Erica just before she hit the ground and you reached her as well, supporting her weight to the best of your ability. She had starting seizing, shaking uncontrollably in Scott’s arms.

“Set her on the ground,” you urged, Scott nodded and hurriedly placed her on the floor as gentle as he could. By now others had joined you, including Allison and Stiles both with worried expressions. “Put her on her side. Put her on her side,” Allison repeated. She looked at both of you, “How’d you guys know?”

The two of you made eye contact both shrugging, “I just felt it,” Scott said and you nodded.

“Boyd.”

It was the next day, in the cafeteria and right now your time was being occupied by Stiles. He had dragged you with him to talk to Boyd, another kid in your class who worked at the ice rink. Currently said spastic boy was trying to get the keys to the rink from Boyd. However, things weren’t going as planned.

“You got the keys?” Stiles asked his body turned half away facing towards the windows of the cafeteria. Boyd stuck his hand out keys dangling making Stiles smile. He grasped the keys from the boy’s hand but to no avail Boyd didn’t release his grip. Confused Stiles tugged again. No progress.

“This isn’t a favor. It’s a transaction,” Boyd reminded.

“Right, yeah,” Stiles replied retrieving his wallet from his pocket, “Absolutely,” he placed a twenty dollar bill on the table. Boyd gave nothing but an unimpressed look, “I said fifty.”

“Really-,” stuttered back Stiles, “I remember twenty. I don’t know. I have a really good verbal memory. And I remember twenty. I remember that distinctive ‘twa’ sound. Twa-enty.” Boyd cut him off, “I said fifty,” he said firmly.

“With a ‘fa’ sound. Hear the difference? If you can’t, I can demonstrate some other words with the ‘fa’ sound.”

Your head rolled from side to side, “Yes trust me, he remembers,” you concluded with annoyance. You didn’t even care if you actually got the keys or not. You didn’t even want to go, well not now, you did before. Before Stiles had invited Lydia at least. You didn’t mind the red haired girl, or you didn’t hate her that is, but Scott had also invited Allison before hand. Originally, it was just meant to be your four meaning Stiles and you were gonna be the other pair since no doubt Allison and Scott were gonna have one another’s attention. Now that Lydia was invited, you were for sure gonna be the one left out. You weren’t angry at either of the boys or girls, just a little bummed that one of your favorite activities was now going to cause you to be an awkward fifth wheel.

Stiles blinked rapidly, “No, no, no. I think I’m recalling it now. Maybe I just got it confused with forty.” He slowly placed another twenty on the table. You could practically feel your eyes roll into the back of your head ‘this was getting to be too idiotic’ you thought. Boyd stayed silence, slowly putting a Dorito in his mouth causing you to snort. Boyd smirked pushing the bag towards you and you gladly took one. Giving him a slight nod, you leaned back in your chair to finish watching the train wreck in front of you. Stiles let out a defeated huff, “Come on, man, have you seen the piece of crap Jeep that I drive?”

“Have you seen the piece of crap bus that I take,” Boyd countered effortlessly.

You reached into your bag and quickly grabbed a ten dollar bill from the side pocket, “Here, I’m growing bored of this back and forth your trying to pull with him,” you said to Stiles sliding the cash across the table. Boyd smiled wide, reaching out once more keys in hand, this time Stiles needed no effort to take them from his hand. Cocking an eyebrow over at you he stood from his seat, “What’s your problem?”

“Sorry, I’m not exactly excited to be a fifth wheel,” you snarked before looking back at Boyd, “Thank you, you’re the best. Sorry about him.” The boy acknowledged your statement before returning to his act of eating.

“What do you mean ‘fifth wheel’,” Stiles questioned confused. You scoffed at him, “I mean exactly what I said,” you gestured your hand back towards your usual table, “you invited Lydia. Scott, Allison, Lydia, you,” you counted on your hand then motioned to yourself, “Fifth wheel.”

He mocked your scoff, “Oh, please, you’re not going to be a fifth wheel.” He wrapped his arm around you, “You’re our girl, you know that. We’re never just gonna leave you out.” You rolled your eyes, “Maybe not intentionally but Scott’s like a lost puppy dog around Allison and you’re no better when it comes to Lydia.” You saw a slight smirk rise onto the boy’s face, he tilted his head towards you, “We’ll if you’re that jealous we could always invite Jackson to keep you company.”

Disgusted, you made a face, “Ew gross, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with Jackson especially not by choice.” He hummed, “You’re not denying that you’re jealous.”

You jabbed his gut causing him to recoil slightly, “I’m not jealous. Why is that even the first thing that comes to your mind? What, are you trying to make me jealous, Stilinski? Have all these years you harbored a crush on me, huh?” You teased, “Are you in love with me, Stiles?” He jumped back, “Don’t you even start with me, no, to all of that,” he waved his hands motioning to your figure.

“Wow didn’t realize I was that ugly,” by now you had reached where Scott was sitting, taking his apple you bit into while you listened to Stiles ramble, “THAT is NOT what I meant and you know it.” You assumed Scott had been listening in on the whole discussion since he was wearing an amuse look on his face. Stiles had sat across from you two, pointing at you like a disappointed parent, “Got em’,” he finally concluded placing the keys onto the table, “Pick you up right after work tonight and we’ll meet at the rink, cool?” Scott’s attention was already caught somewhere else and so was yours.

As if it was a whole different person, Erica strutted through the cafeteria wearing an outfit you would’ve never even considered that she owned. Her hair was done and her makeup as well. She made her way to a table where sat two random boys as she reached over and grabbed one of their apples, biting into it. Her dark red lipstick smeared slightly and she wasted no time wiping it away with a sultry smirk.

“What,” Lydia had joined her hands lightly slapping on your table, “the holy hell is that?”

“It’s Erica.”

You three never even had to look at each other before you dashed into the hallway together, jumping down the stairs and out the doors you find her once more but this time she was with someone. Derek. She was getting into Derek’s car, staring you down as if she was some kind of Bond villain. Once she was fully in the car, Derek sped away. You and Stiles both just sighed as your shoulders dropped, while Scott’s jaw tighten.

“Well now there’s three,” you remarked monotonously.

After school you had joined Scott at his work. While you didn’t work there, you often joined him on his shifts, thankfully early on Scott had gotten Deaton (his boss) to agree to it. Provided that you of course didn’t mess with anything, which you never did. It was just a great way to make sure Scott’s homework would actually get finished, plus it gave you somewhere to be instead of just home alone.

When Peter was alive, Scott had gotten shot and Deaton had taken care of it, he had also kept Peter from taking Scott. To this day you and Scott still don’t understand what exactly happened. How exactly Deaton knows about how to heal Scott. Actually, when you found out that Deaton knew something about the supernatural, he was your first choice to ask about what’s going on with you. You just never found a good time to ask, hence why you ended up asking Derek. Scott has also been trying to have a talk with Deaton about everything, which is where you are right now.

“Hey Doc.”

Deaton turned to face Scott. “When are we gonna talk about… the thing that we never got a chance to talk about?”

“Ah, yes. We never did get a chance to talk about that, did we?” You perked up, trying to listen to the quiet conversation going on across the room. Scott shook his head in response to Deaton’s question.

“Now is definitely a good time.”

“Thank God.”

“What do you think? Two dollars?” You tilted your head, what the hell? Apparently you weren’t the only the only one thrown off by the statement. Scott’s eyebrows scrunched together slightly, “Two dollars?”

“Ah you’re right, two-fifty more a hour. It seems like a pretty good raise.” You sighed, apparently now wasn’t a good time to talk about what you two actually wanted to know.

“That’s not exactly what I was… wait two-fifty more a hour?” Scott was cut off guard by the offer, “Done, don’t forget to clean up the cat cages.” Deaton shook his hand and left the room before Scott could come to terms with what just happened.

“Damn, he just cleaned your clock, you know that right?”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, “Nevermind.”

After Scott had finished his shift, Stiles arrived to pick you both up. You were on your way to the ice rink now, you were also still grumbling and whining in the back seat as he was driving. He looked at you from the rear view mirror and Scott twisted back to see you as well, they both laughed at your small fit you were in the process of throwing.

“Come on, Y/N. It won’t be that bad, we’re not gonna leave you out,” Scott reassured tapping your knee as you turned up your nose at them.

“Yeah, brighten up, plus we could still call Jackson to come hang out with you, if you want,” Stiles laughed.

You moaned, “No, absolutely not.”

Scott had glanced at Stiles slightly, had you been paying attention you would’ve seen the sly look they exchanged before Scott turned towards you once more, “Are you sure you’re not jealous?” You felt yourself choke on air, clearing your throat you said, “Why would I be?” Scott shrugged, “I don’t know, you didn’t have a problem with this idea until Lydia was invited. Maybe you wanted Stiles all to yourself.” You snapped your head down from looking at the ceiling to now both boys and you saw the cocky smirks they were both wearing. You scoffed and kicked both their seats, “Bite me.”

“Hey, what did Roscoe do to you?”

To be honest, this isn’t the first time you three have had this back forth (all joking of course), since Melissa has had you for so long she’s always treated you and Scott like you two were siblings. Stiles on the other hand, wasn’t allow in your room because he was a boy. Melissa had always given him a slight look when he would get too close as well. Those two things eventually dissipated and became less of a concern as you both got older. The inside joke between you three, did not unfortunately. After Scott had found out about your slightly different rules when it came to Stiles, you were teased tremendously for supposedly having a crush on the boy. Every time brought both boys pain to the gut.

You three arrived at the ice rink, Scott leaving and holding his door opened for you as Stiles came around the side to join you. Allison and Lydia had shown up already waiting for you. The boys went to unlock the doors as you follow close behind, when they finally got them unlocked they turned to you both playfully biting each side of your shoulders.

“Ow, what the hell was that for?”

“You said to bite you,” they synced.

The girls walked up, Allison reaching for Scott and Lydia barely acknowledging Stiles before walking past you both. You gave him a pointed and mocking look, he gave you a push before closing the doors and you both made your ways towards the rink.

You sat down in the bleachers, little bit away from where Lydia and Stiles were currently sitting. You know they were talking but quite frank you couldn’t really hear them. You had brought yourself a book because even though your best friends spent the whole day stressing that you wouldn’t be sidelined, you knew them way better than they thought you did. You glanced at your phone and debated on maybe calling someone to pick you up, but who would you even call?

Jackson? Absolutely not, even if you did, he wouldn’t come get you and you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from punching him in the face if he did.

Danny? No, you didn’t want to bother the poor boy.

Matt? No way in hell, he gave you the absolute creeps.

Isaac? Now that, was a maybe, however the boy was in the wind. You didn’t even know if he had his phone or if he would even pick up. You haven’t spoken since that night at the police station and considering Erica’s behavior you were skeptical that the Isaac you knew would be the one to show up.

You sighed, placing your phone back next to you, with your hands at your cheeks and elbows on your knees, you watched Scott and Allison walk off towards the rink. Eventually so did the silent pair that was on your other side. Deciding it was best to just suck it up, you got off the bench and stepped onto the ice. It was one of your favorite activities after all. You twirled and skated, playfully messing around in the corner while the other four did their thing, all in their own worlds. That is, until you heard a scream. It was truly deafening, terrifying, unlike anything you had ever heard before. You placed your feet in stopping position and scanned to find the owner of the scream, only to find Lydia on her hands and knees screeching at the ice below her.

You all make your way towards her, inquiring on if she was alright, searching for any sign that something was wrong but nothing. All that could be done was Stiles holding her while she whaled.

The next morning at school, you were leaving class. You kind have been avoiding Stiles and Scott today, only talking to them this morning while on the way to school. You didn’t realize it before but you were more hurt by being left alone than you thought. After what happened with Lydia you guys all decided it was time to leave and when you got home, you quietly made your way to your room mentioning to Scott about just being tired. You had laid in bed for a couple hours wide awake, just thinking.

Were you jealous? No, you couldn’t be, despite the jokes, you didn’t actually like Stiles nor Scott like that.

After you had pondered for a little bit, you had found your answer.

Were you scared? Maybe. But scared of what?

...

Being replaced.

For the longest time, it was just Scott, Stiles and you. The trio. Always together, always there for each other. You did everything together and sure you knew eventually you would find partners and maybe other friends but it never dawned on you that if the boys each found someone, you would possibly be fazed out. You knew they would never intentionally do anything to push you away but that didn’t stop your worrying.

Your thoughts were cut off by a slam to the lockers. You turned the corner to see Erica backing up Scott against the lockers. Allison was in the distance too, she was witnessing everything. You didn’t know what exactly was happening but you knew that it was nothing good. You marched towards the two, grabbing Erica’s shoulder.

“What do you think you're doing?”

Erica finished her sentence to Scott, he gripped her wrist and pulled her off of him. She snarled at you before turning her back away from you.

“I’ll tell Isaac you said hi.”

You felt yourself falter, Scott noticed that your whole demeanor changed as well. He looked down and grabbed your hand squeezing it.

“I haven’t seen you today, we haven’t seen you,” he clarified. You took a shallow breath, “Yeah just had a lot on my mind.” He kept his gaze on you, “Is it about Isaac?”

You shook your head.

“Is it about the ice rink?”

You hesitated, before slowly nodding. Scott sighed, before pulling you off to the side, “We weren’t kidding when we said you’re not a fifth wheel.”

“I know, it’s not really that,” you mumbled, staring at your feet.

“Then what’s the matter?” You shrugged, swaying like a child before mumbling your answer once more, “I just kind of feel like I’m being replaced.” Scott was taken aback by your answer, he had no clue what to say. There was an odd silence in the air for a little while before Scott finally figured out what he wanted to say, “What made you feel like that?”

All you could do was shrugged once more. Talking about this was so hard. You finally sighed, “Okay, before I start, I’m gonna say this once and only once. No, I don’t have a crush on Stiles. Look honestly it’s just the fact that he’s trying to integrate her to be a part of us. I know it sounds silly but it’s true. It’s completely different with Allison, she’s your girlfriend, plus I’ve never had any problems with her. Lydia’s just I don’t know, she’s not awful, definitely better than Jackson. I guess since she’s not Stiles’ girlfriend, I get annoyed because with you two it’s different. You guys are DATING, of course I expect you guys to be in your own world but Stiles… she doesn’t even acknowledge him half the time so I know all his attention is going to be him trying to get hers. At least if they were dating it would be the same situation but it’s not. He’s-.”

“Okay, okay, hey look at me. Calm down, at this rate you're gonna make the lockers fly off the wall,” Scott joked holding your hands.

You wiped the tears that you hadn’t even realized had been falling, “Sorry.” Scott moved his hands to your shoulders, “Don’t be sorry, now what were you going to say?”

You took a deep breath, “He’s supposed to be my single buddy, you know, the friend that becomes your pair when the other starts dating someone. I guess in the end, I don’t really feel like you’re trying to replace me but Stiles is.”

“No, no, no, look I know I don’t need to say it but I’m going to, we’re not trying to replace you. Y/N, you’re our best friend, we’re family. Nothing and I mean nothing, could ever replace the bonds we share with you.”

Hearing that made you feel so much lighter, you know deep down you were being kind of ridiculous but maybe to keep you from imploding you just needed to hear that. That you were important.

“You’re right.”

“And I’m gonna talk to Stiles.” Your eyes widened, “What, no! Don’t do that, it’s fine!”

“Too late. Now come on let’s go to lunch.”

Scott had that goofy grin, that grin that says ‘I’ve got everything planned.’ “Also, you didn’t need to say that you didn’t have a crush on Stiles. I know you only have eyes on Isaac.” That caught you off guard, you choked on air, your head shooting up to look at Scott who just had that stupid smug smile on his face.

“Shut up.”

“It’s true! Even before all this happened, I remember when you two got assigned for that project together. You wouldn’t stop talking about it and you would mention him one too many times for it just to be because you had a project together.” You felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest. You knew that he knew but you didn’t know that he knew all that.

“Is it that obvious?” You said meakly.

During lunch, Stiles had rushed in to point out that Boyd was missing from school today, meaning Derek had gotten to him. That’s what you were dealing with now, the game plan. It was already after school and Scott was sending Stiles to Boyd’s house. He was also trying to send you as well but you wouldn’t budge, not when there was a chance to see Isaac. To see him okay.

“If he’s not home you call me, got it?” Scott instructed as you three headed down the hallway.

Stiles had slow his pace which Scott noticed immediately, “What?”

“Maybe we should let him. Boyd, you know? You said Derek’s giving them a choice, right?”

Scott grabbed his shoulder pulling him down the hallway, you trailing right behind them, “We can’t.”

“You got to admit, Erica looks pretty good. The word 'sensational' comes to mind.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, because she was basically manipulated into believing that this would fix all her problems. Sure she heard what Derek warned her about but I can guarantee she wasn’t listening. Big difference. I would put money on it that Derek is brushing it off like he did with Scott ‘If you listen to me, you’ll be fine.’ He won’t give them answers just false security.”

“How do you think she’s gonna look with a wolfsbane bullet in her head,” Scott argued as well.

Stiles took both your comments to heart, “Alright, all I’m saying is maybe this one, isn’t totally your responsibility.”

“They are,” Scott disagreed, “You know this thing is gonna get out of control and that makes me responsible.”

“Not to mention, could we live with ourselves if something happened to them, knowing we could have possibly helped them?” You added.

Stiles’ hands clapped to his sides, “Alright, I’m with you guys. And I also got to say this newfound heroism in you two is making me very attracted to you.”

You and Scott scoffed, “Shut up.”

“No, seriously. Do you want to just try making out for a second? We could take turns,” he suggested gesturing to you three as you pushed him away, “Just to see how it feels.”

“How about I take my fist to your face so you can see how that feels?”

Scott and you had reached the ice rink to see Boyd finishing out his shift. You had hurried closer, calling to him to get his attention.

“Boyd!”

“We just want to talk,” you pleaded.

At the sound of your voice, Boyd’s head had tilted up towards you.

“Hey, come on, Boyd, please,” Scott begged, “Did Derek tell you everything? And I don’t just mean going out of control on the full moons. I mean everything.” Boyd had shut down the machine he was using, “He told me about the hunters.”

“And that’s not enough for you to say no,” you asked. Scott continued your point, “Whatever you want, there’s other ways to get it.”

“I just want to not eat lunch alone everyday.” His statement froze you, you hadn’t considered something like that but still.. this wasn’t the best way.

“Trust us, Boyd, if you’re looking for friends, you can do a lot better than Derek,” you said.

“That really hurts, Y/N.” Derek. Of course he was here. Scott had turned around making sure you were behind him but that didn’t stop you from seeing him.

Isaac. He was okay, well at least you thought so. You were right though, he definitely wasn’t the same boy from before. Now, he not only dressed differently but he wore a different expression entirely. The sweet smile you adored was gone, replaced with a smug smile. “I mean if you’re gonna review me at least take a consensus,” Derek motioned to the two teenagers beside him.

“Erica, how’s life been for you since we met?”

“In a word… transformative,” She roared, literally. You and Scott adjusted your stances already seeing where this was going.

“Isaac?”

“Well, I’m a little bummed about be a fugitive but other than that, I’m great.”

You scoffed, “Let me add to that. Did dear old Derek tell you the whole reason Scott is in this mess, the whole reason all of us are in this mess, is because of his family.” You had moved next to Scott by now, pointing at Derek, “Did he tell you that the only reason he’s an alpha is because he decided to be a selfish prick and slash his own uncle’s throat? Even after he said he wouldn’t for Scott’s sake?” Your rant had caused an awkward feeling to fall in the room. The two teenagers clearly looked slightly uncomfortable at the new information, Derek had cleared his throat before staring back at Scott. You crossed your arms, looking at Scott before facing the newly formed pack, “I guess he didn’t. Hm, interesting, don’t you think?”

Scott had taken a few steps forward, “Okay, hold on. This isn’t exactly a fair fight.”

“Then go home, Scott,” Derek smiled.

With a growl, Scott had punched the ice denting the surface, “I meant fair for them.”

Isaac and Erica had no problem advancing towards Scott. He had taken your arm and quickly moved you closer to the machine and Boyd, out of the way and safe. Scott turned and without any effort flung Isaac across the rink, moving on to slam Erica into the side of the ice rink machine. That didn’t stop the two from getting back up and trying again. They had actually had a second where they got the upper hand, pushing him in between them before Isaac flung him away just like Scott had.

“Isaac, stop! Leave him alone!” He ignored you, his focus completely on Scott. It didn’t matter, Scott beat them down again and again, until they finally stayed down.

“Don’t you get it? He’s not doing this for you, he’s just adding to his own power, okay? It’s all about him. He’s makes you feel like he’s giving you some kind of gift, when all he’s done is turn you into a bunch of guard dogs!” Scott yelled, slinging them across the ice and back to Derek. They laid there in shock of what Scott had just done all by himself.

“It’s true. It is about power.” Derek started making his way towards Scott now, transforming, his eyes glowing that blood red and fangs growing. He slashed at Scott, punched, kicked, beaten down your best friend. You couldn’t believe your eyes, it was brutal, it made you shake out of fear for the boy. You had to do something but you didn’t know what. All you knew was that you were afraid, afraid of what might happen if you didn’t do something. You glanced at Isaac and Erica, still sitting on the floor their attention now switching from Derek to you. You could see it in Isaac’s eyes, he knew you were gonna do something.

“Y/N, No!”

You ran as fast as you could on the ice, reached for Derek’s hand before he could slash at Scott again but it was useless. He threw you like trash, away from them. You landed with a loud crash and a groan from pain. You heard your name being called from a few different sources but you couldn’t tell. Everything got fuzzy. Only it wasn’t from the throw it was like from before, with Lydia. Your senses were basically rendered useless, you couldn’t hear anything and everyone looked slightly blurry. You knew they were looking at you though, you knew they could see it.

Your eyes glowing.

Before Derek could notice you, before he could stop you, you picked your head up and that’s when your sense came back. Heighten, stronger and clearer than ever.

“Get away from him!”

You slammed your hands on the ice, causing it to ripple like it was water, it traveled towards Derek knocking him off his position on Scott’s throat. He fell to the floor and an energy pushed him into the ice by his throat, almost like someone was stepping on his now. The ice cracked underneath him but you didn’t care. You rushed to Scott putting his head in your lap.

“Scott are you okay?” He lightly nodded, coughing up some more blood. By now Derek had risen up, staring at you in shock. You shot him a glare, “Leave, or I’ll do it again. And this time, I won’t stop.” Derek had slowly backed away going to his two new betas, who were now staring at you. Erica try to tend to Derek but he just brushed her off, Isaac on the other hand, he kept staring at you even when Derek tried to guide him out. You couldn’t tell if he was concerned for you or scared of you. Boyd had gotten down from where he was sitting getting ready to join the others.

“Boyd, please don’t, we don’t want to see you get hurt,” you pleaded one last time.

“You don’t want to be like them,” Scott warned

“You’re right,” Boyd lifted his shirt, revealing his bite, “I want to be like you.”

You had gotten Scott back to the clinic where he was worrying about his wounds from Derek, “Why aren’t you healing?” You shrugged even though he was mainly talking to himself, you rounded the corner to see a guy on the table, slashed.

“It’s from an alpha,” Deaton said coming from the shadows, “I think maybe we better have that talk now.”

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a/n: I don't have much to say other than I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! let me know what you think!

taglist: @somiaw

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey angst #isaac lahey fluff #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #lydia martin #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf fluff #allison argent #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf series #isaac lahey x y/n #isaac lahey x yn #derek hale

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