#would love to see some of the transitions they did between songs

[nicoscheer]

Liam looking like a big brother making sure nothing gets burned

[queerfables]

The Rules of the Twist

Given the themes of deception and sleight of hand in Good Omens season 2, I think most of us agree it's at least possible there's some kind of twist waiting to be revealed in season 3. We're bouncing around a lot of theories, but I wanted to take a step back and look at the general shape of what we might expect.

The big twist we've seen before in Good Omens is Crowley and Aziraphale's body swap. (Okay, technically it was an appearance swap. But that just doesn't sound as pithy.) Rather than anticipate an exact repeat of this trick, I'm considering the swap as a sort of model. What does it tell us about the rules Neil plays by when he pulls a twist in this story? What clues can we expect, and what can we not count on? Sure, there's no guarantee that a season 2 twist is going to map exactly onto what we've seen in the past, but I think it's a reasonable place to start. Take these as guidelines and take them with a grain of salt, but if you're sorting through all our fascinating Good Omens theories and trying to decide what you think, you might find them helpful.

So then, what are the rules?

Broadly speaking, Neil plays fair with twists. He foreshadows and includes enough hints for the audience to make a reasonable guess at what's going on, or at least to look back after the reveal and go, "oh, of course". But he still keeps some cards close to the chest.

During the body swap, there are two big gaps in the information we're given:

Key events happen off screen The swap happened between scenes, during a time that it was only suggested, not confirmed, that Crowley and Aziraphale would be together. The transition between these scenes also used film and tv conventions to make that passage of time "invisible" - we see Crowley and Aziraphale get on the bus, and then we see them in the morning going about their days separately, and we're conditioned to think nothing important could have happened in between.

Key tools (eg abilities, items, information) haven't been shown before The swap was not something we'd ever seen Crowley and Aziraphale do, and it wasn't something they'd ever talked about either. It fit comfortably into the established world building but it hadn't been specifically signposted as a possibility.

The other big twist that Good Omens pulled was the romance between Gabriel and Beelzebub as the explanation for Gabriel's disappearance from heaven. Both of these information gaps are involved here too. The offscreen event is obviously the meetings between Gabriel and Beelzebub that lead to them falling in love - up until Gabriel's flashback sequence, the only indication they'd ever met each other was a brief conversation at the airbase during Armageddon. The tool that we haven't seen before is Beelzebub's ability to create a fly vessel for Gabriel's memories (protecting him in much the same way that Crowley and Aziraphale protected each other with their body swap, in fact).

These are pretty big gaps, really. And given that Neil knew there'd be years between seasons 2 and 3, I expect he would have leaned pretty heavily into them if he wanted to hide something. So how do we predict a twist if we can't know where it is and haven't seen what it might involve?

Unanswered questions

This is the big one. Looking at where the furniture isn't, you might say.

What's interesting is that the questions that point to a twist aren't usually subtle or ambiguous. For the body swap, the two converging questions were: what did Agnes' last prophecy mean, and how could Crowley and Aziraphale survive their executions? In season two, some of the unanswered questions signposting Gabriel/Beelzebub were: how did Gabriel lose his memory, why was he carrying a box, what was the significance of the song he kept singing, who was he at the Resurrectionist with...

I think guesses about upcoming twists are most convincing when they seek to tie up loose threads from the show. For this reason, I'm a little skeptical of theories proposing the kiss between Crowley and Aziraphale involved some kind of twist. It isn't impossible, I just don't see any unanswered questions there. (Savvy readers may note that I too have speculated about a twist hidden in the kiss. I do find the possibility fun, but it's not a theory I'm seriously committed to). If I was going to really buy into one of these theories, I'd want it to explain one of my big unanswered questions other than "but how could they get into a fight that hurts me so deep in my soul?" That's definitely a question I have, but not technically a mystery.

It's worth noting that in the case of the body swap, we were initially given a false answer to the question "how did they survive their executions?" The angels and demons watching attribute it to Crowley and Aziraphale having "gone native", believing that their natures had fundamentally changed, making them immune to holy water and hellfire. It might be the case, then, that some of the apparently resolved questions this season warrant further investigation. Is there more to the story of Gabriel's disappearance than we know, for example?

2. Unexplained details

If examining an unanswered question is looking at where the furniture isn't, then this is where we take all the pieces of furniture piled up in storage and see if we've got anything that fits. Everything is fair game here: script, acting, music, props, sets, costumes, editing, camera angles, audio effects, visual effects, everything. If it's on the screen or coming through the speakers, it was put there on purpose by multiple teams of highly skilled and attentive creators all working together to create the final product.

I think you could probably do an entire meta on all the little details pointing towards the season 1 body swap, but here are some of the big ones:

"Crowley" sees the restored Bentley, but takes a taxi instead of driving it

"Aziraphale" circles "Crowley" when they order their ice creams, the way Crowley more typically moves around Aziraphale

"Crowley" says "tickety boo", an extraordinarily Aziraphalean phrase

The collar on "Crowley's" jacket is a beige tartan rather than its usual red

There are general differences in the ways David Tennant and Michael Sheen embody the characters throughout the swap

Similarly, Gabriel and Beelzebub's romance has lots of small details pointing to it. The big one that keeps showing up is the connection between Gabriel and flies. He mentions them and interacts with them repeatedly, and although it isn't obvious at first glance, there's a fly in the box that he carries to the bookshop. This all culminates in the reveal that it's the same fly, Beelzebub's gift to him.

Here's the problem, of course: if everything in the show is intentional and crafted with meticulous attention to detail, how do we know what actually matters? This is why I think it's so important to look at the unanswered questions first. There's a joy in seeking out Easter eggs and connecting all the dots, and sometimes you might strike gold this way, but there's also a lot of noise in the signal. It's helpful to know the general shape of what you're looking for, so you'll know when you've found it.

You can reverse engineer this. Start with details that jump out at you and then look for a puzzle they might explain. This works, but it's a little easier to get lost in the weeds, struggling to sort out what's significant and what's a fun reference to another piece of media or a hint to a question that's already been resolved. Going back to the twists we've already seen on this show, the unanswered questions around them were really big and obvious, so I think it's a good idea to ask: if I hadn't noticed this detail, would I have thought this was a mystery that needed solving?

Okay, but what do we do with this?

Well, maybe nothing. These criteria can't confirm or rule out any theories, after all. I'm laying it out like a rubric but it isn't really, I'm just describing a few storytelling patterns we've seen before and making some rough guesses about how they might show up again. If I were really serious about this I'd probably take a look at other examples of Neil's work and see how well my model holds up there, but the truth is I'm not really familiar with enough of his other works to do this. (Confession time: I was always more of a Pratchett fan).

The main reason that I've laid everything out like this is it informs my thinking when I stress test my own theories, and I figured other people might be interested in it. I'm also hoping it will help me to be able to refer back to this when I write meta in the future. For my own purposes, I find a breakdown like this helpful because it gives me a sense of how a writer approaches their story, where they'll tip their hand and where they'll hold things close. It's no guarantee and it wouldn't be any fun if it was, but in a lot of cases we're not aware of our own patterns, so it can be surprisingly illuminating.

[moonjxsung]

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

[couldtransitionsaveher]

EMIL SINCLAIR from LIMBUS COMPANY

JUSTIFICATION:

"The unhatched egg metaphors. The constant anxiety and insecurity. The Zwei ID art where she looks like a gay librarian. The scene in Hell's Chicken where Ryoshu's team is all women oh and Sinclair too. The cute little Faelantern dress... it is my belief that Sinclair will only reach full self-actualization once she realizes she's a girl. This goes for the Sinclair from Demian (1919) too but I don't know as much about that one." - Anonymous

"okay. where the hell do I start.

Sinclair (Limbus Company) is based directly off of Sinclair (Demian - this will come up in a minute), and is a largely withdrawn, melancholic "boy" whose associated imagery is an egg and breaking out of a shell (again - more in a minute), and characters comment sometimes that she seems like she has an inner turmoil/darkness to her. a couple of her outfits just straight up look like mid-transition fits. her appearance in the album art for the song used in her chapter (itself based on the painting described below) is one of the most #girl things imaginable Sinclair from the source text (Demian)

1. struggles with her parents' expectations for her, and her increasing betrayal of those expectations (leading to such lines as "-at times I didn't want the Prodigal Son to repent and be found again. But one didn't dare think this, much less say it out loud.")

2. becomes friends with Demian who, aside from representing a more nuanced take on the black/white logic of point 1, Sinclair regularly remarks how cool it is that Demian's face is kinda feminine

3. begins to view herself as destined to live between two worlds, the light and the dark, human and inhuman, and, interestingly, "man and woman in one flesh". for all this is treated as a fear it's also explicitly stated to be something she desires

4. stops and thinks one day in college "perhaps I am not like other men?"

5. sees some random pretty girl one day and decides the concept of that pretty girl must be the path to return to the world of light/salvation. she learns to paint just to paint this girl and doesn't get it perfectly accurate but is pleased nonetheless. she becomes obsessed with this painting and stares at it while falling asleep before eventually realizes that the painting actually resembles herself, not as she feels she is but "-what determined [her] life, it was [her] inner self, [her] fate ... what the woman [she] would love would look like if ever [she] were to love one. That's what [her] life and death would be like..." - she eventually burns the painting and eats the ashes, y'know normal "girl who hasn't realized it yet" behavior

6. throughout the entire book she has visions relating to and is tied to imagery of eggs and birds escaping their shells to take flight" - Anonymous

Reminder: Submissions are always open! Submit here!

Did you make your daily click today?

[wistfulwatcher]

misty quigley is a lesbian; a comphet reading of her deprivation tank "realization"

in rewatching misty's deprivation tank therapy, i'm more convinced than ever that misty is a lesbian suffering from compulsory heterosexuality. the entire scene, from start to finish, is about misty accepting that walter has feelings for her (not the other way around), and learning to push through her discomfort with that fact.

the deprivation tank scene begins by establishing that misty is afraid. we see quick transitions and hear bubbling water and see a terrifying fish coming at the camera with sharp teeth. followed by a slightly softer stream of images of walter, interspersed with memories of crystal, and of caligula. misty is thinking about three key relationships in this moment: walter, who is actively pursuing her; crystal, whom she loved and hurt and misses; and caligula, who is the only creature that both loves her, and she loves back.

love is the concept that ties these three together: walter is who she could love, crystal is who she did love, and caligula is who she does love.

and so the memories fade into her fantasy sequence, led by caligula, and he begins to soothe her. this creature that represents real (platonic, obviously) love to her (in that it is true and reciprocated, more than she feels it is with any human) tells her "shake off your blues/i'll set the mood for ya". caligula is acknowledging her fear and her loss, and telling her that he can fix it. that he has an answer that will make all of her problems go away.

which is when walter appears, looking like the leading man in a classic musical; an idealized romantic interest, one her fantasy has turned from a real man into a fictional character. and what does he do? performs for her. misty (per the directions of the song, to just "sit right down") sits and watches. she does not interact with him, because she (and her attraction) is not a part of this. one element of comphet is the inability to picture yourself in a fantasy with a man; misty does not put herself with walter, she does not join him.

and while he and caligula perform, three items float around the screen: the plane axe, a syringe, and the black box (which fluctuates between intact and exposed). these three items are such a fascinating choice, because they, 1) all relate to the actions she took in her need to be useful and appreciated, but 2) also represent some of the ugliest things she has done (at a time when she has recently been thinking about what kind of person these things make her). she is thinking about these moments (her behavior with ben, murdering jessica, and stranding the team/breaking crystal's trust) that cause her great discomfort, at the same time she is trying to convince herself that walter is what she needs. she is comparing the discomfort she has with walter's interest and the validation she would feel from a relationship, to the way she's felt about all of these other bad things she's felt compelled to do.

while these items float, caligula sings, "now sit right down/let your troubles melt away/and you'll be sitting pretty in the moonlight gaze". continuing to tell her to push through the discomfort; just let it go. and if you do? "moonlight gaze" is such an interesting choice, because the moon is most strongly symbolic of women. if she lets go and has this relationship with walter, the other women will think she's normal. (especially after just a few hours prior to this, natalie had said, "we're all like this, aren't we?" this is her chance to prove nat wrong, for misty's own sake and/or for nat's!) this is not the first time misty has displayed behavior suggesting that it's important to her that natalie (and other people in general) see her as desirable as a romantic/sexual prospect: telling natalie about her dates on the road trip to travis, "i bet he thinks we're hookers!" said with glee in the jail, "i have a secret boyfriend, too," whispered to natalie in '96. if she decides to accept walter's interest (a man who is so into her that he is literally fine with her being a serial killer!), then maybe the other girls will see how worthy misty is of affection and attention.

once the dance number is over, misty immediately goes to speak with caligula; again, in her fantasy about loving walter, she doesn't interact with walter. instead she seeks caligula out, because he is the one she feels a real connection to; he is the one who knows her and can reassure her - the one whose reassurance will mean something. (walter, a man she barely knows, has been nothing but a concept to her in this fantasy, and that doesn't change.) misty's conversation with caligula is emotional; she is clearly bothered by the idea that other people see her as a murderer. but caligula doesn't give her an emotional response or solution; instead, he tells her she's a "closer". he points out that, even when things are rough (i.e., even though she doesn't like how walter makes her feel), she can persevere and accomplish her goals. it is this reminder that causes misty to transition the scene to to the final piece.

and oh boy, is that final scene a goldmine. because it begins with a close-up on misty's childhood phone. the phone that becky called her on back in 1992, to tell her that she was disgusting. that no man would want her, and that she would never find "a victim" to sleep with. that moment was foundational for misty's issues, for her desire to be wanted and needed in '96, and her deep need to receive validation from men in '21. this scene is so crucial to understanding misty's relationship to comphet, because one of the key facets is wanting a man to see you as desirable, because that is a woman's value in a misogynistic society. this hits misty so especially hard because she's not just lacking interest and validation from men in school; she hasn't been getting recognition from anyone. (for her to break the black box after just a few hours of receiving positive attention? she was starving for it.)

and so walter calls her on the phone - their backs to each other, literal and emotional distance between them - and starts to tell her that he loves her. but he doesn't say the words. instead he uses morse code to send "uoyevoli": "i love you", backwards. a fascinating choice, because it could be argued that the morse code is representative of their shared love of puzzles as crime solvers. but why backwards? surely the symbolism of the puzzle connection has been satisfied by the morse code.

it's because misty doesn't want to hear "i love you." she wants the implication of walter's desire, she wants to know she has value, but she doesn't want the actual feelings. she wants him to say i love you in a way she can't feel. she wants him to call her and turn his back so she can do the same. she wants to "get the ball over the goal line" and to do that she needs this level of distance.

so this scene with walter? it isn't about walter; it's about recreating that brutal memory. it's about rewriting her past. in her fantasy, walter calls her to prove that becky was wrong, that he is choosing misty because she is desirable. that he does want her. and this is so key because this whole scene is about how walter feels. that walter wants her. in misty's "realization" that she wants to be with walter, it isn't about her feelings at all. the purple flowing line of love comes from walter, the words "i love you" - twisted as they may be - come from walter. misty's only role in her fantasy is to "sit right down" and accept her role; surrender to the fact that walter is the right choice.

and when she does, when she finally, finally comes to the end of this moment, she still doesn't interact with walter. the natural progression of a love confession is physical contact. a kiss, or a relieved embrace. misty seeks neither! in this fantasy of hers where she can have anything, she makes no effort to acknowledge walter at all. instead, she turns to caligula, representative of her real connections. and she celebrates her victory with him. misty can close this deal, can get through this decision she's made, by clinging to the people she does actually care about.

[horrorjunki3]

Texas chainsaw massacre slashers with a trans boyfriend

Warnings: NSFW, discussion of the female body, dysforica, Canon typical violence, fluff

I'm tagging @maxthompsonjrmalewife because I made reference to there work!:)

Drayton sawyer

Gay panic -> that's it the moment Nubbins brings you in -> I feel like his brothers see this reaction and decide to keep you alive

His such a simp for you, he just loves his boyfriend so much!!

He will never misgender you but he doesn't 100% understand being trans so you might have to explain it

His very responsible so he will always know how long you've Been binding and after care for taping his on it!

His so sweet when you need to do injections he'll coo at you and call you handsome -> he mainly calls you pretty boy or baby boy

Nsfw

His brain shuts down whenever you initiate something -> he has a pretty low sex drive but w his boyfriend doing hormons he probably gets more action then he ever has

Calls you a minx for distracting him from the saw but God your lips feel so good around his cock

He doesn't care If he tops or bottoms as long as you are both having a good time

He gets riled up whenever your walk around in your boxes and a binder - checks you out and can't help wanna fuck on the kitchen table or while his cooking

Chop top sawyer

His loves his trans bf soo much! finds it so hot -> I generally believe chop loves people who are different, unique and unapologetically themselves!

He isn't good at remembering when you starting binding

His pretty good with trans inclusive language

Loves giving you pride pins and stuff

Also shows you off to victims -> lord have mercy if you get misgendered at all in this house all the Sawyers won't have it.

He absolutely loves helping you with injections he probably did some first aid in the war so his pretty good at it -> gives you a kiss everytime it's finnished

If you use Gel this guys a pain he'll always wanna grope you so he gets excess GEL on him and doesn't see the issue

If you ever get dysforia he likes to nest in your shared room with music and lots of cuddles for you! Telling you how handsome you are and how much he loves you

He gets so excited whenever there's development in your transition!

Totally write songs about you being the prettiest boy everr

NSFW Headcannons

Chop loves the contrast between your masculine and Feminine traits

Loves your T dick sooo much! This man would suck you off everyday if he could -> somedays he won't let you leave the beg until your crying and begging from Cummings so much

He a top, and prefers fucking you but as long as his cocks in you he doesn't care who's more Dom or submissive

Loves loves loves cockwarming you, your so warm and wet and your little cocks begging for him to touch it!

Loves if you get more horny when on T -> y'all are fucking like rabbits and he loves every second of it -> bends you over every table and fucks you silly

If you get morning wood omfg this man will gladly give you head of a morning -> infact he will beg to please morsel can he? Your so hard and he just wants to taste you

Nubbins sawyer

This man's so feral for you and is a Stuttering mess

Loves taking photos of you -> loves documenting your transition!!

He becomes a mess everytime you do something 'masculine' -> his attracted to masculinity so if you pick up something heavy or him his a mess!

He can't help you with injections because his hands shake alot -> he does however old ur hand and give you a lil kiss. "No Nubbins you can't have any Gel" -> "No what why are you trying to eat it?!"

His fave part of you is your arms like doesn't matter if they're skinny, muscular or plump he loves them -> loves being held by his boyfriend

He steals all your clothes!!

If you get dysforia he'll drag you off to the house and coo at you -> does all your chores and gets you whatever you need

I feel like all the Sawyer siblings gender you correctly and it's such a safe place for you! No one bat's an eye when you take your shirt off or your not binding -> your a men to all of them and they love you dearly

NSFW Headcannons

He doesn't care If his top or bottom -> nor does he care of him domming or subbing definition of a switch

Regardless of if his fucking you his a moaning mess

If his in a more dominant mood he loves you sucking his dick so much, you look so handsome on your knees for him

He loves you dominating him, his a good boy and you make him feel so good

He totally calls you daddy you can't change my mind

Loves your ass so much! Will bite it and lives fucking you from behind it's such a pretty view can't help but whine and cum over and over

Bubba sawyer

You being trans most likely saves your life -> bubba found someone like them!!

T4T relationship 🥰

They let you wear any of they're clothes!

He adores his trans partner! Feels so connected and comfortable w you like you understand them!

They're very good at helping with shots and aren't a pain in the ass when it comes to Gel like there brothers

Squeals when there's developments in your transition and gives you the biggest bear hug!

I saw a headcannon about this here it is and the artwork (not mine someone else's but it's sooo good!!) That Thomas and Bubba will make binders out of human skin for they're trans S/O and yeah that is cannon idc what anyone says it's cannon

Of you get dysforus bubba gives you one of there shirts -> it's baggy and makes a great dysforia jumper! They will pull you into there lap and run circles on your thighs your so handsome! They just wanna make you feel better!

Loves when you do a stereotypical boyfriend thing to them like bringing flowers! It's so gender affirming for you and them!

NSFW

They love your chest it doesn't matter what size, shape, small large or post surgery -> they'll love it and pamper your chest with kissed and hickies

Don't care If they're top or bottom but he is more submissive

Another one that loves your T dick -> they legit moan whenever they see it please say they can suck it? Please?

They're so gender reaffirming in bed! And always check on you it's soo cute

Please femininise them in bed they love it, makes them feel so pretty!

Loves when you fuck them -> they're such a slut for your cock it's not even funny

They're sex drive isn't to high but they love making there S/O cum so they have no problem with keeping up with you

They prefer slower more sensual sex -> it makes him feel so loved

[liljakonvalj]

I watched the Great Mouse Detective tonight and as someone who loves this movie, here's some of my thoughts:

First of all and this cannot be overstated: Best. Sherlock. Holmes. Adaptation.

I was today years old when i discovered that Olivia and her dad are Scottish (which explains her father talking about catching a train at the end of the movie)

(I grew up with the swedish vhs and watched it in english for the first time today. in swedish none of the character's have any particular dialect )

The aesthetic of Victorian human London but with mice having a miniature society mirroring it?? Love that!!

Despite Basil being the titular character and being the main character in so far that he's the one going on a personal journey and change through the movie- Dawson is the POV character for most of the movie which I find interesting

The transitions when Basil tells them about Ratigan and then showing the audience what he's up to and then back to Basil's apartment are stellar

All the songs are sung in universe - I think this is the only disney movie to do this??

And two of them sung by the villain?! Outstanding move

(It should be mentioned that the remaining song was sung by sexy, stripper mice in a bar)

The heroes drink alcohol, get drugged, enjoy a strip tease and accidentaly causes a bar fight all in the same scene

Yes, the toy store was both entrancing and scary to me as a child. The first doll they see when they enter? That doll whose face smashes and nearly kills Basil and Watson? The toys from which Fidget steals the mechanics? All super terrifying

Ratigan is the only character to have a human-like five-fingered hand, all the others have standard animated four-fingered hands

Ratigan mention a that he thought basil would be 15 minutes quicker to find his lair - which he uses to taunt his enemy but it also means he cannot be there to observe his machine killing his captives. That gives them the opportunity to escape unseen. If Basil and Dawson hadn't been late they probably wouldn't have survived, just saying

The clock tower sequence!! I actually clapped when it started

The cogwheels were computer animated while the mice were drawn by hand - which makes for a really dynamic moving camera

(The man who talked about this in the extras were so enthusiastic about this. Love that for him)

Speaking of moving camera - I greatly enjoyed the camera movement when Rattigan jumped over the citizens to reach the balcony with Olivia and the bat after his plan had been foiled at Buckingham palace. It was really fluent and full of angles

Back to the clocktower: when Ratigan snaps and you can see the angry pen strokes?? They simply don't make movies like this anymore

That was of course very scary too as a child

The final battle outside on the clock hands? Give this movie all awards !!

When Basil comes cycling on that little propeller thing? Link in Tears of the kingdom wishes he could do that

In the extras someone mentioned that they'd made extensive backstories of all the characters: why Rattigan became evil, how it was for Basil to grow up so smart etc. And i desperately want to read that

I know no one cares about the swedish voice actors but I found the different performances of both Basil and Rattigan interesting. I know Vincent Price is much beloved as Ratigan (justly so) but idk if it is nostalgia speaking but I think swedish Ratigan really held up. There were actually some lines that I knew by heart in swedish where the delivery was preferable to the English one for me. After looking it up i saw that the swedish VA is an opera singer (base) which really isn't a surprise given his performance. Basil's voices were really similar normally (so similar I didn't hear the change when I switched between languages - which i did one time to freshen up the swedish voices) but the VA in swedish goes up in falsetto quite often which gives a quite manic impression. Swedish!Basil's sanity is hung by a thread in his restless pursuit of his arch nemesis - which makes his devastation when Ratigan bests him more believable imo. English!Basil is much more a proper, brittish gentleman throughout. All performances were great, I just found the differences interesting.

I have some Core visuals from this movie living rent free in my mind since childhood which are: when Basil compares the two bullets, the closeups as Fidget jumps out at the audience, when Dawson pulls out the glass door with his finger, Ratigan squishing Olivia's doll, Basils machine when analyzing the paper, when Toby makes a stair out of his ear, that flag/balloon/matchbox contraption they used to chase Ratigan at the end, the end fight on the clock arms.

Did i miss your favourite part of the movie? Any core memories from this movie for you?

[keeperofthebox]

I thought it would be fun to try and capture what I think the ninjas’ music tastes would be in playlists. So, here are 5 playlists of 20 songs each for Lloyd, Kai, Zane, Jay, and Cole. My goal was to make these painfully realistic, so be prepared for a little nonsense!

LLOYD // KAI // ZANE // JAY // COLE

(Warning for explicit lyrics in Lloyd, Kai, and Cole’s playlists. See notes under the cut.)

These playlists are generally meant to be enjoyed in order, but I forgive you if you can’t do that. It's only that I jumped between a lot of different genres for these guys in order to give the impression that they’re well-rounded, so I tried to make the transition smooth. I don’t want you to get jump-scared if you have it on shuffle.

I didn't repeat any artists except for Daft Punk (because I had to for Zane, like, legally), and I tried to stick to each artist's most popular music. I want the average listener to recognize a lot of these! I think that makes it more fun to listen to.

The covers are inspired by those iPod commercials with the silhouettes from the mid 2000s. :)

LLOYD: This playlist is inspired by my experience being a tween/teen in the early-to-mid 2010s. Thank you to all my classmates for your unintentional contributions. And you may be wondering, friend, why did you put so much moody rap music on Lloyd’s playlist? Well, in response I raise my own question: have you ever met a real 16-year old-boy?

KAI: I tried to make the playlist flow with his arc. It starts out with edgy rock music, moves into emo, then J-rock (yes, there’s a Naruto opening in there, it’s Kai, why wouldn’t there be), then scene, then horny dance-pop—just like Kai starting out super angsty, but eventually chilling out to the idiotic flirty mess we know today.

ZANE: I mostly just wanted to capture that he’s really weird. He gives me an oldies vibe. It’s also fun to imagine him trying to figure out wacky song lyrics—I think they would mystify him. I wanted to put “My Kind of Woman” by Mac Demarco on there, but it was the only song from this century on the whole playlist, and it stuck out like a sore thumb. :(

JAY: Thank you to everyone who helped me with the video game OST choices! RIP Jay Walker, you would have loved the Portal games. Other than that, I just went for a mix of Tumblr-y lovey-dovey pop rock and glam 80s pop type junk.

COLE: I think Cole is probably the only one who has a good sense of music. He gives me a music bro vibe. I tried to give him some variety to reflect that, but with a focus on grunge and older metal.

Anyway, enjoy!

[azures-bazar]

Caribbean Blue 

Yes this is 100% inspired by Enya's song.

I did not really like Chapter 5, but Guarma is seriously amazing. I love doing screenshots and short vids there, so here is another gif I made for the occasion ! (you'll see another one later on). Sean and Lenny having fun in the background is canon.)

Arthur Morgan x GenderNeutral!reader

Word count : 2.3k 

Short summary : In order to escape from the Pinkertons, Dutch decided to move states, making you travel to Southern Florida, on Islamorada.

A/note : Let’s just say this takes place in an AU where the gang randomly heads to Florida in mid Chapter 3 ! 

Tags : fluff, cute, Arthur Morgan is happy, beautiful waves, beaches, warmth, Chapter 3 inspired, you love swimming, real location, Islamorada

Your journey through Lemoyne had not been that endless, this was what you thought. Dutch had plans on moving further east, somewhere close to the Caribbean sea. The further they would go, the better. Even Hosea agreed with this decision, they would not be found this far. This "trip" from Lemoyne to Florida had lasted for more than a month, but it was worth it. You had loved every minute of it, gazing at landscapes from your horse or from the trailer, tightly wrapped in a blanket Arthur had offered you back in Blackwater. You loved the smooth transition from the bayous to the subtropical forests of Alabama, everything felt magical. 

The gang did not head to Southern Florida by the shores. You could feel Florida’s warm weather each time you would let your head pass between the trailer's flaps. The girls were excited to see the beach, so were you. You had never seen the sea before, only on pictures and paintings. It made you daydream about the colour of water, about the creatures inhabiting the greatest seas around the world. You would ask Arthur about what the sea looked like, and he would keep smiling at your excitement. 

"It’s just some water." he often said. "But it moves faster." 

Years ago, Hosea and Dutch had brought Arthur to the Pacific Ocean to show him how beautiful it was. Arthur could easily remember how excited he was, and how he had decided to run in the water after taking his boots off, dragging a fifteen year-old John in the process. Poor boy nearly drowned while Arthur was having the best time of his life, jumping between waves with the brightest laugh both Hosea and Dutch could remember. He was excited to see your reaction when you would finally gaze at the sea !

The gang settled near a few smalls towns, robbing banks before moving further south. At some point, upon reaching the southern part of Florida by night, Dutch robbed a ferryboat to allow you to leave the continent. By the time you climbed on the boat, you were asleep, unfortunately. Arthur carried you against him, wrapped in a blanket, while Hosea did the same to Miss Tilly. Poor girl was as excited as you were, the two of you had fallen asleep long before sunset, unable to keep up after spending endless days gazing at the landscape.

Arthur did not let go of you for the entire duration of the trip through the waves of the Caribbean sea, he even fell asleep at the some point, holding you against him on a sailor’s bed. You did not have much time to watch him asleep as lights were turned off in the cabin the two of you occupied along with with Tilly, Sadie, Mary-Beth, Charles, Javier and Lenny. The only thing you could remember from this trip was to wake up to Javier snoring beneath your bed and Charles grumbling about the overall noise of the boat. This short moment which did not last long since you quickly drifted back to sleep, nuzzling against Arthur. 

"Y/N, wake up."

"Hmmm..." you grumbled

"Come on, sweetheart. We’re here."

Arthur was gently shaking you, helping you out of bed. Your deep sleep did not allow you to feel that the boat had landed on a makeshift port of an island called Islamorada, where a few people already lived. You stretched a little, still drowsy as Arthur gently held your hand through the boat’s corridors, leading you out of the boat. You were blinded by this large sunlight, barely able to understand what was going on, but you could notice that the gang had settled its camp somewhere between a set of palm trees. 

"Still sleepy, huh ?" Lenny asked you, passing by. "You had some good sleep down there ! "

"Where are we ?" you asked 

"Islamorada, child !" Dutch shouted from the dock. "Now, some help is really needed to keep moving our stuff !"

You rubbed your eyes one more time, getting a clearer view of the surroundings. The location where the boat had berthed was fairly magical, you could not deny it. From an endless beach to these palm trees bordering it, and this clear blue water ! You let go of Arthur’s hand, moving closer to the boat’s guard-rail on which you leaned. You were like a child discovering something new ! You smiled, your eyes were wide-open as you could not help but admire this beautiful scenery. Just like on the pictures and on paintings, if not even better ! 

"It’s amazing !" you said 

"Sure." Arthur responded 

Arthur could not take his eyes off you. He was absolutely delighted by your facial expression, continuously smiling. He had never seen you this much thrilled to see something new ! Your happiness was heartwarming enough to cause his heartrate to increase. He bent a little over you and gently kissed your temple. Arthur could easily feel your excitement, especially as soon as you noticed Tilly and Mary-Beth playing in the waves, only wearing their undergartments. However, you had to help the others to set this new camp on place, which turned out to be very hard. You could not look away from this endless sea which was ahead of you. 

It took a few hours to move everything from the boat to the island. But, as soon as your tasks were finished, you quickly took a few of your clothes off and ran to the sea. You were quite surprised that the water was somewhat colder than the one of Flat Iron Lake, but you barely cared. You quickly buried your feet into the sand before letting yourself fall forward when a wave was about to take you. You laughed as you got your head out of water, watching fishes making their way around your legs, nearly screaming as you spotted a crab walk past your feet. It was magical ! All these tropical species moving by you, you had never seen any of them ! You kept swimming just above these fishes, still remaining close to the shore. You did not want to be taken away by these huge waves ! 

"Hey, has anyone seen Y/N ?" Arthur was asking to gang members

Arthur was gradually getting worried, unable to find you anywhere. He had been looking for you for more than a hour. Tilly and Mary-Beth were already back to camp and were doing their chores under Ms. Grimshaw’s sight, Kieran told him he had last seen you by the beach. Arthur walked past Jack, playing with a stick in the sand until spotting you playing in the waves. 

"Y/N !" he called you 

"Oh, Arth…- !" 

You had no much time to answer his call, large wave hit the back of your head and washed you ashore. Arthur quickly ran in the water to drag you out of it, you kept coughing. Swallowing this salty water felt terrible and was certainly disgusting ! Arthur lifted you above his shoulder to walk a few feet away from the waves, putting you down as soon as he acknowledged that you were no longer coughing. 

"Easy there." he chuckled. "You ain’t used to it."

"I’m gonna go back !" you said, making your way back to the sea 

"No, Y/N. It’s kinda dangerous, I’ll go with you."

You rose an eyebrow as Arthur took his suspenders off and unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it on the sand. You were surprised he would go with you, but his overall fear of loosing was certainly leading him to behave this way. You did not mind his overprotective side at times, still doing your best to show him how bold and brave you were. You were an excellent pocket thief and a skilled gunslinger, but the love Arthur vowed you often led him to be mortified whenever you would be sent en robberies alone. Arthur loved you so much that any scratch would cause him to panic, still displaying a rather sarcastic side whenever he found it was mostly a minor injury. 

Arthur grabbed your hand and walked into the water, plunging in one of the waves while you looked around, appreciating the view for a minute or two until he jumped out of water to scare you, clapping his hands on the water to splash you.

"Imma sea monster !" he roared

You nearly fell back as Arthur was mercilessly laughing before disappearing underwater for a second time, causing you to look around. Just like Sean and Lenny, Arthur had enjoyed having fun in Flat Iron Lake with you, he did not mind putting his seriousness aside to have a bit of "fun".

"Arthur !" you chuckled

You self something between your legs, Arthur had placed them on his shoulders and rose from underwater. You screamed as you could feel how tall you were over there, gazing around while spreading your arms wide to keep a minimum balance. You could see that Sean and Lenny were on their way to join you in your childish games, MacGuire was the one who loved that the most ! Causing mischief was great, but playing harmless games in the water was much better ! That view was quite enjoyable, you adored it, at least for the short seconds you spent on Arthur’s shoulders before he started a very sudden countdown. 

"Three !" he shouted 

"What ?"

"Two !"

"Arthur, wait !"

"One !"

You screamed again, laughing as Arthur fell backwards with you on his shoulders as soon as he shouted zero. You got carried by a wave, unfortunately swallowing that salty water again, causing you to jump out and cough before moving to Arthur, mercilessly splashing him. You wanted to take your revenge, but could not face him and his strength without someone else’s help. Thankfully enough, Sean and Lenny quickly came to your rescue ! Each one of them grabbed one of Arthur’s legs, causing him to fall backwards after screaming a little. 

"Excellent catch, Mr. Summers !" Sean laughed 

"Thank you, Mr. MacGuire !" Lenny responded 

Arthur rose from the water again, quickly grabbing Sean by the waist and lifting him up before throwing him a little forward, laughing so much that he would nearly suffocate. He did the same for Lenny, still acting in a rather gentle way, throwing him near Sean. Listening to Arthur’s laugh made your heart melt. His wet hair and short beard did not make things easier ! How handsome he was when he was laughing… smiles suited him more than his usual grumpy face ! His eyes sparkled like stars when he turned his head back to you, causing you to nearly collapse. You could not resist to his charms, to his smile, to his eyes. You could not. 

"Ain't ya a beautiful thing, Y/N." he smiled 

"So are you." you answered 

You had enough time to kiss Arthur before Sean jumped out of water and wrapped his arms around his shoulders and his legs around his hips, making him fall backwards. There was nothing so genuine than adults having fun in the water, cowboys bathing in the Caribbean Blue. The girls joined you later on, despite Ms. Grimshaw’s complaints about their careless behaviour. But all of you enjoyed something as simple as playing between these large waves. It was so much better than robbing banks, for some reason ! All of you felt safe where you were, no Pinkertons would ever come and find you on Islamorada ! 

You spent a few hours in the water before finally deciding it was time to go back to camp. This sudden childish attitude of yours had triggered an intense fatigue in all of you, but Arthur was the one who was the most affected by it. Earlier in the afternoon, you had enjoyed having Arthur embracing you, his head nuzzled in the crook of your neck while playing on the sand. That night, nothing was much different. Arthur was in the exact same position, resting above you like a blanket, his head placed on your shoulder, one of his hands holding the collar of your opened shirt. He loved being close to you, this close, resting into your embrace. You were reading a book to him, a book about the legends of the sea. And Arthur was so exhausted that he had been continuously drifting into sleep while listening to your soft and calming voice. The sound of the nearby waves did not help him stay awake either. 

"You can be so terrifying and sweet at times, Morgan…" you whispered, kissing the top of his head

"Mmmmh…"

Arthur grumbled a little, making you chuckle. You kept caressing his back with the tip of your fingers, enjoying this moment more than anything in the world. The waves were great, this landscape was amazing. But having your dearest man on Earth nuzzled against you felt like a treasure you were ready to cherish. He whined whenever you stopped rubbing his back and moaned of pleasure when you would proceed massaging his scalp. He adored your reassuring presence, just like he dared protecting you. You were each other’s treasures.

You kept reading until your eyes started closing themselves, causing you to place your book aside. You could hear Javier sing by the fire with Uncle playing some harmonica, while Micah was most certainly minding his own business by the sea. Hosea passed by your tent, you heard his steps and his chuckle. 

"Well, these two are asleep too !" he told Dutch. "Seems like everyone is exhausted around here !" 

"Playing in the sea like kids didn't help much, Hosea." Dutch responded with a soft voice. "They’ll be be feeling better tomorrow." 

"I hope, we need food here. This ain't a vacation."

Indeed, you needed food, and this was no vacation to anyone. However, nobody could deny how great this situation was, and how much everyone seemed to enjoy it. Even Hosea had walked by the beach, kicking the water a few times with a large smile. This place would be good for a while, that’s for sure. Everyone was safe, including Arthur, resting into your embrace. Everyone would be safe. At least, this is what you hoped. 

"Things will get better, things will be good. We're safe."

[thoughtsonlou]

Here are some quick thoughts on the setlist at Louis' O2 show: The color codes mean AMAZING, GREAT, and BE GONE

The Greatest: One of my favorites. Loved hearing it with a string section considering that is one of my favorites aspects of this song on the album.

Kill My Mind: The lights looked sick!!

Bigger Than Me: Another favorite. This almost made me cry, and I do not get emotional at concerts ever.

Holding on to Heartache: Thank god this was on the setlist. Such a warm atmosphere.

Face the Music: Why do I feel like the only one who goes hype for this song live? Like, do you hear those drums people

We Made It: Another favorite. I don't know if it's controversial to say I'm glad this stayed on the setlist from last tour, it's just such a well crafted song.

Drag Me Down: Whatever... at least it's better than Night Changes

Chicago: "I STILL. KNOW. YOUR. NUM-BER!!!!"

High in California: Better in the states tbh

All This Time: Don't get me started 10/10

She is Beauty: Missed the regular lights a little on this one, but the transition from ATT is so delicious, and I will always defend this song with my life. Everyone was swaying their hands during this and it was so sweet to watch from the balcony.

Copy of a Copy: He seriously needs to put this on streaming, it makes me mad.

Walls: Another favorite. Again, this almost made me cry. Sometimes it's hard for me to hear other people singing over my own, very loud singing and all of the instruments, but oh did I hear "you were my because" and the more tender "nothing wakes you up like waking up alone" ending.

Written All Over Your Face: OOOOhhhh yeah. Major highlight of the show. I love the blue/red split stage lighting, and the band sounded so cool and funky and Louis voice was incredible... I'll stop.

505: I know all of the lyrics now, yay!

Back To You: Has been a favorite of mine all tour. It's just fun!

Angels Fly: I think this is where Michael had a really good guitar solo I liked, maybe? Also, the people behind me were living for this song, shout out to them.

Out of My System: Another favorite. I don't know, OOMS really had the special sauce at the O2. This song had never sounded bigger. I was jumping so much I was worried I was going to fall over the railing (hyperbole).

Saturdays: Although the light project wasn't what I was expecting, Louis sounded great, and I love how it goes from such a striped back tender moment, to this epic chanting thing... I just love the contrast between the beginning and end and how sprawling it is. I can see why Louis loves it so much.

Where Do Broken Hearts Go: I would love to ask Louis his thought process behind putting this on the setlist was.

Silver Tongues: The perfect ending. Couldn't ask for anything more.

[sunshinescribes]

All I Wanted Was You

Pairing: Okoye x Attuma

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Alt!Attuma & Alt!Okoye, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Second Chance Romance, Makeup Sex

Summary: Attuma never let anything go easily. Never did anything too small. Except Okoye. Beautiful, incomparable Okoye. Where had all that fight been when she began to slip away?

Attuma had always been a fighter.

His mother often told him so, recounting how he had come into the world kicking and screaming, so full of life despite the uncertainties of her doctors.

She had whispered his name as he cried in her arms.

Attuma. Mighty one. Warrior spirit.

And how right she had been as he slowly grew from a temperamental baby to a young boy fierce enough to chase away the older kids. From a boy to a man who had been graced with imposing height and a thick build that made his family joke about his legitimacy.

His transition to adulthood had been surprising, especially to his mother who fondly remembered how Attuma once fit in the palms of her hands. He had grown, but his nature remained the same.

Attuma never let anything go easily. Never did anything too small.

Except Okoye.

Beautiful, incomparable Okoye.

The love of his life.

Where had all that fight been when she began to slip away? When the space between them grew until it was impossible to cross—until it felt like they were miles apart, and words couldn’t mend what had been lost?

It had happened slowly like all painful things do.

The arguments came first, petty little debates that somehow managed to go beyond what either of them had expected. Okoye would switch to Xhosa halfway through, and Attuma would stomp away muttering in his native tongue. They’d find each other later, murmuring their apologies while at the height of their ecstasy—Okoye rendering Attuma speechless with her mouth, Attuma turning her into a quivering mess with his thick fingers.

Distractions.

A way to wash away the tension without facing the actual issue. Little moments of peace disguised as salvation.

Next came Okoye shutting herself off, slowly pulling away. She became too busy with work. Too busy to be around. Too busy for their trip to the Yucatán Peninsula. Attuma had seen it for what it was, saw the cracks long before everything shattered, but he held onto the hope that if he gave her the space she seemed to seek so desperately, all would be well in the end. If it was what Okoye wanted, he would give it to her. He would have given her anything.

She needed you. She needed you, and you weren’t there for her. Not really.

Attuma could see the fault of his inaction now. Months later, miles away from her. He laid awake thinking of Okoye. Thinking about her cold exterior that hid a sweet, soft soul. Her love was not given freely, and what a gift it was when it was earned.

Attuma could hear her laugh echoing in the corners of his cousin’s apartment. Could feel her fingers running through his long hair as he laid in bed, felt her nails scrap his scalp in a way that always put him at ease. He hummed her favorite song to himself throughout the day, the soft lullaby she had grown up with.

Attuma had tried to push the memories away, tried to rid himself of anything that smelled of her, but it was nearly impossible to get her shea butter and gardenia scent out of his clothes. He tried dating again…that had been a bust.

His silent nature was a turn-off for some, his clear disinterest discouraging for others—and he found that it didn’t matter.

They weren’t her.

Nobody would ever be what Okoye was to him.

His equal.

The love of his fucking life.

The revelation was enough to make him a little hopeful—reckless even, as he made his way to the home they once shared.

Attuma wanted Okoye back. Wanted the life they had once shared before it all went wrong, but he could settle on her knowing that he still loved her—that he could never stop loving her…and an apology. One he had swallowed for months. The same apology he had debated texting to her in the middle of the night when everything came crashing back to him, like a wave hitting the shore.

It was late when he left his cousin’s apartment in the pouring rain. Attuma had hardly noticed, and it did little to deter him as he drove through the night until the roads became familiar, and the sight of a house that held everything good in his life came into view.

Attuma was a born fighter—he would fight for Okoye. Fight for her love. Fight for a life that only made sense with her in it.

Raindrops trickled down his face, soaked his dark hair as he approached the front door. His knuckles seemed to tap against the glass door of their own will. The sound of rain hitting the roof and splashing against the pavement did little to ease the rapid beat of his heart.

He knocked again and his heart caught as he heard Okoye call out.

“I’m coming! One sec—”

Okoye stopped as she pulled the door open, her eyes going wide as she stared up at Attuma. She blinked, as if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

She was beautiful—more beautiful than Attuma had even remembered, and he wondered how that was possible. Her rich, darkskin was radiant under the soft glow of the porch light. Her head was still clean shaven, displaying the traditional tattoos that Attuma had found so fascinating the first time he saw her. His eyes lowered. Okoye wore a simple dress shirt and a pair of shorts that exposed her long, thick legs.

Itzamna, how had he allowed himself to ever be away from her?

“Okoye.”

Attuma’s voice was a low, comforting rasp that ripped her from her own surprise—but it also brought back memories she had been desperately trying to forget.

She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared up at him with a guarded look.

“Attuma.” She glanced at the raindrop dripping down his jaw. “What do you want?”

You.

Attuma held his tongue—he could get to that in time, but for now he needed to speak the words she should have heard from him months ago.

“I’m sorry Okoye.” Attuma could see the flash of surprise in her eyes, the subtle lift of her brows. “For not fighting for us. For turning away when you needed me the most.”

Her arms fell at her side, and Okoye was silent as she considered him. Her eyes searched his, as if attempting to discover any evidence of dishonesty in him.

“You’re soaking.”

She turned back into the house, leaving the door open as she discarded her slippers and walked out of view. Attuma was hesitant, slowly pushing through the threshold, and instinctively dipping his head before it hit the top of the door frame.

The house looked different, more barren than he remembered it, but then he supposed Okoye had done the same thing he had—tried to rid herself of any evidence of a life they once shared.

She sat on the black couch in the living room, her legs pulled close as she cast him a curious look as she held out a towel for him.

Attuma took it with little urgency, drinking in the image of her before him. The memory of her head against his chest flashed in his mind, the book she’d been reading forgotten on the floor as Okoye slept silently against him, warm and soft and completely his.

“You stood in the rain to tell me you’re sorry?” She arched a brow at him, “a text wouldn’t suffice?”

Attuma huffed lightly. He never did anything too small.

“I needed to see you.” He draped the towel over his shoulder, ignoring how uncomfortable his wet clothes felt sticking to his skin. “Needed to tell you I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

Okoye stilled; her breath caught as Attuma stared at her with so much sincerity it made her heart ache.

She averted her eyes, slowly lifting from the couch.

“You’re still wet. I might have some of your old clothes in th—”

Attuma reached out for her hand, his thick fingers catching her wrist as he pulled her back to him. His hold was gentle, light enough that if she wanted to be free of his touch she would.

“Okoye, please tell me what went wrong between us.”

Okoye started down at Attuma, taking in the soft vulnerability in his expression, the clear concern as his dark eyes searched hers, and her heart ached. Ached to know he believed it had been his doing.

“It was me,” Okoye whispered as her eyes began to sting, “Not you Attuma. It was never you.”

His brows furrowed as he stared up at her. He rubbed comforting circles into her hand, a gentle gesture meant to put her at ease—he had always been so good at that.

Where he found words lacking, Attuma turned to gestures. Thoughtful touches, a hand on the small of her back, the brush of his knuckles against her cheek—anything to remind her that he was there. He was there and he loved her wholly.

How could she have ever thought otherwise?

“I was afraid,” Okoye confessed, “I thought…I thought you would be like W’Kabi. Like all the people I have loved, and who have discarded me.”

Okoye could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks before she could stop them, feel the barely contained sob that wished to crawl from her throat.

“You were wonderful, and I was scared. If I allowed myself to love you anymore and you decided one day to leave…It would have ruined me.” She sniffled, rubbing away her tears as quickly as they fell.

Okoye hadn’t always been a cynic, but life had certainly made her one. Heartbreak had become so familiar, so expected after W’Kabi and Ramonda. Both people she loved fiercely—one as a lover, the other as a daughter loves her mother. Both had tossed her heart back at her, tattered and bruised.

She refused to add Attuma to her list.

She had done what felt necessary.

She had been a fool.

“In k’iino…” Attuma sighed, cupping her face softly. “My heart is yours. Always.”

Attuma leaned close, his lips brushing against her cheek, kissing away her tears.

He muttered his adoration in his native tongue, each word a declaration as he kissed a trail to her lips.

When their lips touched Attuma knew he could never go back—never be without Okoye again. Never be free of the taste of her soft, plush lips against his, or her demanding tongue running along the length of his bottom lip. He would never be able to do without the feel of her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, as if he might slip away.

Okoye pulled away with a sigh as she rested her forehead against Attuma’s, “You can’t imagine how much I missed you.”

“I can. It was the same for me.”

Okoye hummed softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before glancing down at the damp shirt that clung to his form.

Okoye could not stop herself from thinking of what hid under beneath. “Take this off.”

Attuma grinned, eager to do as Okoye wished.

He pulled the shirt over his head, carelessly discarding it to the side.

Okoye’s eyes dipped, cataloging his body as if she were committing it back to memory. Her eyes followed the lines of the scars across his stomach, the same ones she used to kiss gingerly before taking him in her mouth. Okoye’s fingers trailed a path from his neck to the waist band of his sweats.

 Attuma practically shivered under her touch.

“And these.”

He moved with speed he didn’t even know he possessed, pulling his sweats down his long legs and kicking them to the side as he sat beside Okoye in nothing but his draws. The stark contrast between her clothed form and his nearly naked one was enough to make him dizzy and painfully needy for her.

Attuma pulled Okoye to him by her waist, groaning softly as her thick thighs straddled him. She whispered something about his lack of patience as she slowly unbuttoned her dress shirt.

Patience had never been his strong suit.

Attuma pulled her shirt open abruptly, caring little for the buttons that popped and fell to the floor. His sole focus where her beautiful breasts that spilled out. Okoye gasped, slapping Attuma playfully on the shoulder but he only laughed.

“Impatient man.” Okoye tsked, feeling the evidence of his arousal brush against as she grinded against his lap. Attuma cursed in his native tongue as he cupped Okoye’s breasts, groping her soft flesh as she continued to grind into him.

It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough, not with how badly he wanted to feel her again—hear her chant his name as he brought her to her sweet release.

Attuma placed his hand on Okoye’s stomach, pushing her down on the couch as he crawled over her body. He dipped down, kissing her jaw as he worked to undo her bothersome shorts.

They were swiftly discarded besides his wet clothes and long forgotten as he stared down at Okoye, absolutely mesmerized.

Attuma brushed his hand across her clothed pussy, earning a soft groan from his love.

“You’re beautiful.” He slid her panties down her legs. “So beautiful.”

His lips found hers again as he brought his thick fingers to her soft pussy, teasing her has he drenched his digits with her sweet arousal.

Okoye proved her patience was just as limited as his.

She reached inside his boxers, freeing his hard dick—the sound Attuma made was sinful—delicious, causing her pussy flutter. Okoye’s mouth watered as she thought about how good it would feel to have him where she needed him most, stretching her in way that nobody had ever been able to do before or after him.

Okoye pumped him with a firm grip, grinning wickedly as Attuma continued to groan into her neck. His hips stuttering, chasing the feeling of her fingers around him.

If Okoye kept it up he would finish all over her beautiful fingers, and as appealing as the thought was, Attuma wanted to bring her to the brink of ecstasy—wanted to feel her velvety walls clench around his dick. He wanted her sweet release coating him—marking him.

“Want to show you how much I missed you.”

Attuma pulled her hand away, before lining his throbbing dick along her entrance. He slid his hard length between her lips, glazing his dick with her wetness while teasing her soft nub.

Okoye whispered her encouragement, and it was all Attuma needed to sink into her.

They both gasped, acclimating—remembering just how good the other felt, how well they fit.

“My Okoye…” Attuma sighed as he thrust into her. She was so soft, so fucking wet. The squelch of his dick thrusting in and out of her sopping cunt was obscene in the most delicious way, spurred him to pound into her harder.

Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his back as she anchored herself to him, moaning as he fucked her like he was apologizing for leaving her without this—without him.

Attuma brought his arm around Okoye, pulling her closer as his other hand found her clit, lightly teasing her sensitive nub. Her eyes fluttered shut, her mouth hung open as she chanted his name, and Attuma was lost—completely and utterly drunk on the feel of her.

“I’m never leaving you again.” He rolled his hips harder, thrusting into her as deeply as he could manage. His dick throbbed inside of her, painfully ready to explode inside of her.

“Say it again,” Okoye pleaded against his lips.

She was clenching around him, and words were beginning to get caught in his throat, but Attuma still managed for her.

“Never…leaving you.” He grinded into her sweet pussy, rubbed her clit while she quivered beneath him. “Never again.”

Attuma pinched her clit and she unraveled. Okoye cried out his name, fingers digging hard enough to leave marks as her pleasure washed through her. Attuma fucked her through it, felt mindless as her walls held him, demanding his release.

He got one final thrust in before he was spilling inside of her with shaky legs. His vision blurred, his mind lost in the haze of his euphoria as he came down from his high with a groan.

His eyes fluttered open, glancing down at Okoye with a hopeful smile. She glanced down at where they were still joined, before glancing up at him with a sultry look.

“I see you’re still ravenous as ever.” She playfully chided.

Attuma laughed a full, hearty laugh. Laughter had been rare occurrence during his time spent without Okoye, but now it felt as if he couldn’t do anything but.

“For you? Always.”

Okoye rolled her eyes, and Attuma lowered himself beside her on the couch. He brought Okoye flush against him, kissing her shoulder as he murmured his affection.

Everything had fallen back into place, and for the first time in a long-time things felt just right.

[brunchable]

2319 Chapter 2: Hungry Eyes || Young!StephenStrange x F!Reader

Word count: 7.3K Genre: Innocent Love, Diary Entries, Fluff. Special mentions: Donna Strange, Victor Strange A/N: This story is inspired by the Korean Drama called "2521." I have included one of my favorite scenes from the drama in this chapter. Anyone who has seen it will know which one xD ***Strictly to not post, translate or copy my works to other websites!!***

Cold Open — June 6 1999, 6PM

You rushed back to your room after spending a few hours over at the Strange’s, you mainly planned the next couple of days hanging out with Donna and showing her around town. Just like you she’s very artistic, the main difference between you was she loved sculpting, while you loved to paint. She plans on taking creative arts in university just like you. 

The whole time you hung out with her though, you couldn’t help but think about her brother and how you’ll be seeing more of him. You can’t deny the fact that you did like his teasing, mainly because most of the boys who you’ve seen in the past have always treated you nicely. You squealed to yourself, could Stephen be a potential new crush? It has been a while since you’ve taken interest in somebody. 

You turned the radio on while you pulled one of your journals to write an entry. Britney Spears’ new song, Baby One More Time started playing and you gasped, reaching over the radio to turn up the volume, bopping your head to the beat as you wrote furiously in your journal. 

As the verse transitions to the chorus, you paused and grabbed your hairbrush to sing along with the singer, “Show me how you want it to be—tell me, baby, 'cause I need to know now, oh because, My loneliness is killing me (and I)—I must confess I still believe (still believe),” 

Directly across your window was Stephen’s room. He flicked his lights on and as he entered the half organised bedroom, the first thing he laid eyes upon was you dancing in your room, holding a brush, listening to Britney Spears. He snickers to himself tilting his head and keeps watching you in amusement. He sat down on the left side of his bed closest to the window to wait how long it would take you to notice him, watching you.

“When I'm not with you I lose my mind~Give me a siiiiiign! Hit me, baby, one more time!” 

Stephen was laughing at how you’re so immersed in your fake concert that you couldn’t even feel his gaze on you the whole time. 

“(Y/N)!!” Stephen heard your mother call you out from downstairs.

You paused and threw your brush on your bed, “Yes Mom!?”

“Dinner time!!” 

“Okay!! I’ll be right down!” You shouted back and placed a bookmark in your diary before leaving your room. 

Two days later

You and Donna were in the kitchen showing each other your portfolios in highschool when Stephen came down to grab a snack. He slowed down his tracks when he saw your presence while you avoided eye contact with him. 

“Oh wow! You won first prize for this one?” You pointed at the photo of Donna’s renaissance inspired sculpture.

Stephen takes three and four glances towards you as he opened the cupboards to grab peanut butter for his bread, “My loneliness is killing me (and I)~” He starts singing while spreading the peanut butter on his bread, “I must confess, I still believe (still believe)~” 

You stopped breathing when you heard him singing that song. Oh God. . . did he see me dancing to Britney at some point?! You thought to yourself—while you looked traumatised, Donna stared at her brother judgingly, not knowing what had gotten into him and why he was so chirpy. 

“Lunatic.” Donna mumbled under her breath as she watched Stephen copy the moves you did in your room, with a bit more exaggeration.

“When I'm not with you I lose my mind~Give me a siiiiiign! Hit me, baby, one more time!” Stephen folds the piece of bread and chucks the spoon in the sink, looking at you dead-straight in the eye with a massive smirk on his face, “Nice moves, neighbour.” He says as he leaves you alone with Donna once again.

Donna turned to look at you and witnessed your face grow crimson, “Am I missing something?” 

Your face was hardened with mortification and you hid your face from your friend and groaned into your elbow, “Donna please strangle me, or else I’ll dig a hole to the middle of the earth and live there forever—”

“Why? What even is happening?” Donna shakes you, "A-Are you crying?!"

“I think your brother saw me dancing to Britney Spears in my room,” You wailed and raised your head showing Donna that you were crying out of pure embarrassment, “This is so embarrassing, my dignity has been stripped off!” 

“Oh my god! That asshole!” Donna turned her head to look for Stephen who was already upstairs, probably laughing his ass off, “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him later. He was thrown across the room when he was born, that's why he’s a jerk.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Vanessa and Sasha were in the kitchen making chocolate chip cookies just as the girl requested. The older woman chuckles to herself, remembering the time you also asked her to teach you how to make cookies.

“I remember the day your mother asked me to teach her my recipe for these cookies,” Vanessa began whilst she, together with Sasha, rolled the dough before putting it on the trays.

“Really? When was that?” Sasha asked curiously.

“Long time ago we had new neighbours move in, I think it was summer around that time. After that she began baking more frequently—I think their kid next door loved it.” She chuckled.

Victor? Sasha thought to herself and only nodded in response, “I noticed Mom had all these medals and trophies in her room—I didn’t know she was a professional Ice Skater. . . for the thirteen whole years I’ve been alive on earth she never mentioned it once—it feels like I don’t know my mom at all.” 

Vanessa chuckled, “Well, she didn’t like Ice Skating anymore, she changed her mind, just like you.” 

“Oh. . . so she told you?” 

“Yep.” 

“Hmm. . . that’s probably why she didn’t get upset with me when I walked out of my audition.” 

“She doesn’t want you to put a limit on yourself or what you want to do—I wish we could have done the same for her.” 

After all the cookies have been put into the oven, Sasha heads back upstairs to search you up  and watch your competition on youtube. She clicked the title, 'Swan on Ice performs one last time at winter olympics 2002.'

And now for the performance everyone is waiting for—There were rumours that she wasn’t competing this year due to personal reasons. We are lucky to witness her compete again but unfortunately this will be the last time we will see our beloved Swan—competing one last time at the age of twenty-two, nicknamed the Swan on Ice, (Y/N, L/N), ladies and gentlemen.

Swan on Ice final performance at Winter Olympics 2002

(Actual Ice Skater is Yuna Kim. Her performance is just one that fit in my imagination. She is not the Faceclaim of Reader)

"Wow." Sasha was bewitched by your performance all those years ago, you were so graceful and filled with emotion during your performance. You clearly performed with passion and it left her bewildered why you chose to go with a different path.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

June 15 1999

The money I received for my gold medal in the olympics last year was not enough to pay for my college tuition and I’m pretty sure mom and dad would oppose me using that because they want me to continue on competing on ice. Yes, I do love ice skating but training for it nearly most of my life is starting to wear me down— I think they’re expecting me to compete again in three years time. I just received a letter in the mail from my coach stating that my training will commence in autumn. Looks like I’ll end up taking student loans while juggling training, studying and working at the same time. 

The problem is, I haven’t started my portfolio yet, I really need to start painting but I don’t have inspiration. . . .

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You threw out yet another sketch in your overflowing trash can, “UGH!” You pulled your hair back before laying your cheek on the table, staring at the blank piece of hard paper, defeated. Your tuxedo cat, Figaro, jumped onto top of your desk and bumped his head onto yours.

“You always come at the right time, Figaro, you’re such a good boy.” You lifted your hand and stroked the feline’s spine before scratching his chin. The feline purrs loudly and lies down on its side, showing you its belly.

“(Y/N)! Donna’s on the phone for you!” Vanessa yelled from the living room and you bolted out of your chair and ran downstairs like your life depended on it. You snatched the corded phone from your mother and unmounted the phone on the wall to go farther away from your mother.

“Hey Donna!”

“Hi! Are you free right now? Want to grab some ice cream?”

“Sure! I have to go home early though, some of my high school friends want to catch up tonight.”

“No problem! We’re at Gelato Messina, we’ll wait for you before ordering.”

“We?” 

“Me and Victor—Scaredy-cat doesn’t want to be left at home”

“I’m not a scaredy cat!” You heard Victor say in the background.

“Oh. Alright! I’ll be there. Bye.”

“Byeeee.”

You hung up the phone and mounted it back on the wall, “Mom, I’m going to meet Donna at the ice cream parlour.”

“Okay, be careful.” Vanessa replied as she rearranged the plates in the kitchen.

Before heading out you ran back upstairs to grab your denim jacket and put on your high cut converse. Luckily the ice cream parlour was only ten minutes away by bicycle and when you arrived you found Donna and Victor sitting opposite each other by the window arguing until they saw you heading inside.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Over here!” Victor got on his knees on the couch and waved at you.

“Oh my gosh! Just sit down, she’s not blind you know.” Donna rolled her eyes.

“She’s not blind you know.” Victor mocked Donna and stuck his tongue out as he sat back down on the couch. You chuckled and took the seat beside Victor who happily made room for you.

“Mock me again and I won’t buy you ice cream.” Donna threatened Victor who narrowed his eyes, “What do you want?” 

“I want salty caramel and cookies and cream.” Donna raised her brows and Victor sighed, “Please!” 

“What about you (Y/N)?” Donna turned her attention to you.

“Oh no that’s okay, I can pay for myself.”

“Oh please—just pay for me next time—what do you want?” She waved her hands dismissively and pushed the menu towards you.

“Deal. I’ll get two scoops of Jamaican coffee gelato.” You pointed.

“Cool beans, I’ll be back—behave yourself gremlin.” Donna stood up to get in line, leaving you alone with Victor

“Have you made friends yet Victor?” You turned your body towards him and the boy shook his head, “Why not?”

“Hm, well I tried playing with the kids in the neighbourhood but they didn’t seem too interested in hanging out with a kid who grew up in the city.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m sure you'll find your friends when school starts again. Don’t pay them any attention.” You reassured him and ruffled his black hair, “So. . .where’s your brother?”

Victor shrugs, “Probably with his friends who are in town. . .Why?” The little boy narrows his brows.

“What do you mean why? Can’t I ask?” You narrowed your eyes back at him.

“Hmmm, do you have a crush on Stephen?” Victor narrowed his eyes further at you, causing you to chuckle nervously.

“Pft. No—I’m asking because I want to avoid him as much as possible.” 

“Because you have a crush on him?”

“No! I don’t have a crush on him, ew.” You grimaced but Victor wasn’t buying it, “Why are you pushing this anyway?”

“I like you, not like the other girls he’s been with.” Victor answers casually with a shrug, “And you are very pretty, if Stephen doesn’t take a chance on you then, I suggest you choose the next best option, and that is me. I guarantee you that I will be much more handsome and cooler than Stephen when I grow up.”

You burst out laughing just as Donna headed back with a tray of desserts for each one of you.

“I think you broke her Victor, what did you do now?” Donna sets Victor’s ice cream cup in front of him and the kid excited digs in.

“She’s just extremely happy to know that I am her next best option after Stephen.”

Donna facepalms herself, “You are a kid Victor, you’re making (Y/N) a criminal—Ignore him, he’s an odd kid. Obviously thrown across the room like Stephen.”

You calmed down from laughter and shook your head, “It’s fine, Donna. Thank you for the ice cream. “

“So. . . how's your new job going?” She asked, taking a spoonful of her mango gelator.

“It’s great! I love working as a florist assistant, I get to learn about different types of flowers, it’s pretty interesting—they’re looking for another clerk though, If you want I can refer you?” 

Donna shook her head, “Thank you but it’s all good, I got a job at the bookstore, over there.” She pointed with her spoon and you and Victor turned around to see the building.

“Oh my goodness, so lucky! I’ll come and visit you often! What’s your favourite flower?” 

“Roses, what’s your favourite book?”

“Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.”

“I like Daffodils and The BFG by Roald Dahl.” Victor butted in with an innocent smile on his face. You and Donna focused your gaze on the boy, “What?” 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You left your house in a long coat to hide your true outfit from your mother and father. Your friends from highschool waited for you in their car, the loud music emitted clearer when you opened the door and jumped in.

“So what’s our plan for tonight?” You asked as you buckled yourself up in the backseat. 

“Katie met some college boys in town and we’re all going to hang out at Latrobe for some drinks.” Maddison finally revealed the plan with you.

“What?! You girls know we can’t drink for another two years right?” You say, panic loud and clear in your voice.

“This is why we didn’t initially tell you about the plan because your goody-goody ass will back out—come on (Y/N), have you ever lived if you don’t break the rules for once?” Janice nudged your side.

“What if they ask for our IDs?” You asked.

Janice turned her body towards you, “Come here.” She motioned you to come closer to her and held your jaw while she put lipstick on you then removed your hair tie, messing your hair up a bit, “There, now you look twenty-one.” 

Sasha furrowed her brows as she read further in this entry, “What the heck?! They’re the bad influence not Stephen—you need to just stick with Donna, Mom. Quality over quantity!” 

After half an hour of Janice fixing you up at the backseat a bit more—you now wore a black buttoned crop top, matched with a plaid skirt, black opaque stockings and a high cut converse. What was even more surprising to you was that there wasn’t even a security guard manning the entrance. All of you walts inside the bar filled with people close to your age, without a problem. You tried your best not to grimace at your surroundings, not to mention the very loud music from the speakers—it was so loud you could feel the vibrations in your chest. The smell of smoke filled the air, making it quite hard for you to breathe.

Katie panned her eyes around the bar, “Ethan said they’re inside booth nine.” She told you and the girls and the rest of you just followed her towards where the booths were located up at the loft of the bar. Her head turned from side to side, inspecting the numbers. 

Katie opened the door and the guys inside cheered. She then gestured to the rest of you to hurry up and get inside. Janice and Maddy jogged in while you timidly followed. The smell of cigarette smoke was so strong in that room that you instantly had to cover your mouth and nose—but you’ve already got a waft and you began coughing. As you fan over your face violently, you studied everyone’s faces until you landed on Stephen who was about to take a sip of his gin. 

As soon as he realised it was you, he quickly averted his gaze and set his beverage down on the table. You could not tell if he was uncomfortable or a little embarrassed to see you there since his expression was difficult to decipher.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Gareth, one of the guys chuckled, “Come sit beside me.” He patted the space between him and Stephen, who seems to still be refusing to look at you. Gareth moved aside as he gave you space to squeeze yourself in. 

You cleared your throat as you sat closely beside Stephen. 

Ethan eyes you closely and tilts his head, “Your last friend over here looks younger than twenty-one,” he paused before addressing you, “Hey, be honest, how old are you?”

You opened your mouth to say something but Gareth who was beside you cut you off, “Why does that matter? She wants to learn the ways of the world early, nothing wrong in teaching her right?” 

Stephen took a deep breath, his jaw clenching slightly, grip tightening around his glass. 

“First lesson, always have men pour the drinks for you.” Gareth grabbed the bottle of whiskey and grabbed the clean glass for you, pouring you a drink, “Alright, bottoms up.” Gareth passed you the glass but before you could grab it, Stephen yanked it out of his friend’s hand and sculled it down in one go, setting the glass down on the table with a loud thump. 

Your friends and Stephen’s friends stared at each other in awkward silence.

“Dude, what’s gotten into you? Do you have a problem?” Gareth scoffs.

“Don’t kill the mood, let’s just send her out, she’s obviously not in the right drinking age—it’s a waste of alcohol.” Stephen’s cold voice sent chills down your spine. You look down, slightly feeling upset at what he said when you knew you weren’t even supposed to feel upset.

“Are you hearing yourself right now Stephen? Stop nagging, I’ll get the tab— I won’t make someone who got fired from his job pay for the bill,” Gareth pauses before trying to piss Stephen a bit more, “Aren’t you here to ask me for a favour? Like get you in my workplace? You can’t, can you? Because you can’t swallow your pride.”

“Excuse me, that is not a nice thing to say!” You snapped at Gareth who gave you a demeaning look in return.

“Shut up and drink.” Gareth quickly pours you a glass and slams it in front of you. You sighed and grabbed the glass but Stephen stood up and yanked the glass away from you, the alcohol slightly spilling on the floor, also slamming it on the table.

“Get up.” Stephen told you firmly, raging fire burning behind his eyes. You could tell he didn’t want you to make him say it twice but you can’t just leave since your friends are here.

“You go first. I can’t leave my friends.” You whispered to Stephen who scoffs and didn’t take no for an answer.

He wraps his hands fully around your wrist and attempts to pull you up, “Get. Up.” 

Gareth narrows his eyes, noticing the way Stephen was being so protective over you—so he purposely puts his legs on the table to block the way and presents an arrogant smile, “Where are you going? Sit down.”

Stephen bites his bottom lip as if it was the only thing that’s giving him the patience not to throw a punch towards his friend, "Move it."

"Go by yourself, she said she wants to stay, didn't she?" 

“Give it a rest, Gareth. Why are you being such an ass?” Jake butts in to defend Stephen.

Stephen chuckles and kicks Gareth's leg off while still holding onto you, causing the latter to grimace in pain and rub the side of his leg. Stephen dragged you along with him but before you could head out the door Gareth leaned over to grab his phone, "Ah—shit. That's it, I'm going to call the cops."

You casually spun around, “Do it, call the cops.” You urged him, causing you to get a concerned look from Stephen.

What the hell? Is she trying to get us all arrested?! He thought, “What are you doing?” Stephen whispered at you.

“It’s okay, I have a plan.” You whispered back to him.

Gareth chuckles and smirks at Stephen, “What do you say Steve? She wants me to call the cops.”

Stephen says nothing and just glowers at Gareth as the latter stands up to go face to face with him. Stephen lets go of your wrist and allows you to step aside, “You know her don’t you? That’s why you’re getting all worked up.”

“Whether I know her or not is none of your business.” 

“Well I better report this then, she can watch you get arrested or you can go by yourself but she stays.” Gareth taunts, “Decide Stephen, you can’t step out of here until you make one.”

Your eyes widen when you noticed Stephen removing his watch, “Stephen—”

“Okay, we can all leave together then.” Stephen seethes, his fist forming into a ball. As looked away when he raised his fist, thinking he was going to punch his friend, only for him to smash the fire alarm.

“This asshole really has changed ever since he started studying Medicine.” Gareth scoffs, remaining fierce eye contact with Stephen.

“I think you should call that growing up, Gareth. I guess the good thing about it is you get to know who’s worth keeping—Why don't you give growing up a try aye?” Stephen stared down on Gareth just as hard before shifting his attention back to you, “Let’s go.” 

Stephen’s strides were much bigger than yours and you tried your best to keep up and not trip over your own feet. Staff were leading people towards the emergency exits while Stephen led you to a secluded alley where he had left his motorcycle. 

“You need to go home before the buses stop running.” 

“What? By myself?! Katie is my ride home! And now I don’t know where she is.”

“What is wrong with you huh? What are you even doing here?” 

“What about you?! You can’t just press fire alarms like that!”

“Go paint your portfolio at home or something. You’re not even at the right age to drink and you urge him to call the cops on us?!”

“Do you think I said that just because?! You don’t even know the true reason why I said that! You just ruined one of the important plans I had for myself!”

“What kind of plan involves your underage ass meeting guys and drinking at a club? Are you trying to get arrested?!”

“YES! I am trying to get arrested! Are you happy now? My parents don’t want me to pursue creative arts and I think they’re trying to bombard me with training so that I wouldn’t have time to make art for college. I want to get arrested so that the winter olympic committee will kick me out!”

Stephen’s brows creased further, “Wait—you want to get kicked out of the Winter Olympics?” 

“YES! I do! I realise that there’s more to life than just ice skating. I want to make a portfolio, trust me but I’ve just been so stressed that I can’t find inspiration to draw!”

Stephen stressfully combs his hair back and sighs heavily, “You planned this to get kicked out of the olympics?” He asked once more, closing off the far distance between the both of you.

“Yes! Is that so. . .wrong?” Your voice became softer as he got closer.

“Do you know why the law sets twenty-one as the age for drinking? Because your imaginations are limited. What did you imagine would happen here? Do you think things would've unfolded the way you imagined?” Stephen paused, cornering you against the wall of the building, his gaze piercing through your eyes and shook his head “Not a chance. If you come to places like this, you open yourself up to things you don't need to experience—shouldn't experience or that you're better off not experiencing, happen.”

You felt your hands tighten into fists as you stared directly at him as he towered over you. Although you didn't want to, you could feel yourself melting under his gaze despite the fact that he was scolding you at the time, “Then what would you have me do then? No matter how much I tell my parents, they don’t listen to me.” 

“Stand firm and put your foot down. I can’t tell you how, you need to figure that one out yourself.” Stephen steps back a bit and fishes his wrist watch out of his pocket to check the time, “Do you need a ride home?” 

You dropped your gaze and swayed your body gently, “. . .yes.” 

Stephen clicked his tongue and sighed, “You owe me twice now.” 

“Are you going to drive? B-but You just had a drink!”

“I have high tolerance, I’m not even tipsy right now.” Stephen argued and threw his arms into the air. 

“Prove it.” You challenged him—for your safety.

Stephen laughed in disbelief, his hands resting on either side of his hips. He shook his head at you as he once again found himself trying to prove himself to you, “Alright. Fine. How would you like me to prove it to you this time?”

“Follow the line with one foot with your arms crossed and holding onto the lobes of your ears.” You nodded your head towards the road line.

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Stephen casts you a judging look. You narrowed your eyes at him and he replied with another frustrated sigh before doing as you requested. He did it perfectly, “Happy?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Stephen snapped and exhaled, “You just saw me do your extreme sobriety test perfectly.”

“Stand on one foot for thirty seconds,” You insisted once again. 

“Okay but this is the last, I will really leave you behind if you make me do one more.” Stephen threatened and lifted his left foot up into the air and counted thirty seconds in his mind, “Alright time’s up.” 

“I was actually happy the first time, I just wanted to see how far you’d go.” You stated and shrugged seeing that he passed his balancing test. 

Stephen chuckles, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheeks. He watched as a deceivingly innocent grin formed on your lips, “You mischievous scamp.”

Sasha laughed out loud, “That’s right mom, show him who’s the boss.” She flicked to the next page, the more she read your diaries the more she felt connected with you the people in it—which was weird because what she was reading isn't even fictional. 

You firmly held onto Stephen’s shoulders while you rode in his motorcycle—again, without any helmet on but at least he allowed you to wear his black leather jacket to protect you from the chilly breeze of the night. Your nose catches his woody scent from his jacket and it curls around you like a python. Why does everything about him draw you in? His face, his scent, his attitude.

To make it up to him from last time, you asked him to stop by a Vinyl Record store and pick any record he wanted to get. Not that you were spying in his room, it’s just his curtains were open most of the time, you could see the record covers that were tacked up on his walls.

"I'll choose a song for you and you choose a song for me," Stephen suggested as both of you walked through the aisles side by side, "If I just choose what I like, that's boring."

"Are you sure? You look like you only listen to rock and metal." You grimaced at the thought of him listening to your music taste which in contrast to him, is all pop and ballads.

"I listen to any kind of music. . ." He paused and glanced at you and chuckled defensively when he saw the doubt on your face, "I'm not uncultured." 

"I didn't say anything." 

"You're probably more uncultured than me—Ms. I like to dance in my room to Britney Spears." 

"Meet me when you find me a song." You shot him a glare and shoved your hand to his face before you walked away to find him a song. 

The long fluorescent lights on the ceiling flickered while you made your separate ways to find each other a song. There was a large selection of vinyls to choose from, so you chose to look for a well known band. You flicked through the vinyl and chose a song that you thought would be funny for him to listen to.

Stephen could see you smile from where he was, considering the fact that he was taller than the shelves. He also wanted to keep an eye on you since there weren't many people in the store at this time of night apart from the both of you. When you pulled out a vinyl from the shelf, he abruptly turned around and continued searching for a song for you.

"I got one for you! It's from the 80s though." You waved the vinyl and handed it to him. 

Stephen took it and flashed a short smile when reading the song title, "Strangelove by Depeche Mode. . . Really?" 

"What? It's funny! Stephen Strange listening to Strangelove~" 

Stephen stares at you with a neutral face.

"You. . . can laugh any time now?" You tilted your head innocently, matched with a smile but Stephen just shook his head.

"I'll laugh tomorrow. Come on, let's give this a listen." Stephen led you to the players where a few people were listening to their songs as well. 

Stephen lifted the cover of the device and gently placed the record on the player. He attached the headphone provided before leaning down side ways so you both can share the one pair of headphones. He placed the needle on the record and music began playing. 

The whole time you found yourself staring at your friend's older brother, anxious to see a reaction which he was keeping to himself perfectly. At least he was slightly nodding his head to the beat. When he feels your eyes on him, he looks and you abruptly flick your gaze away, you pressed your lips together to stop a smile from coming on for getting caught for a second. 

You slowly rolled your eyes back towards him a few moments later and found that he held his own gaze, causing you to panic and look away again. This time feeling blood rushing up your head. 

🎶Stranglove, that's how my love goes. Strangelove, will you give it to me?🎶

The song finishes and Stephen nods, "Not bad. . . I can listen to that again." He removes the needle from the record and returns it in its case. 

"Should I get this one for you then?" 

"Yeah. Why not? It's a cool red coloured record." He shrugs and keeps the record in his hands, "All of mine are basic."

"Okie dokie. What have you chosen for me?" 

"Well I had two choices but I didn't think you'd like the other one so. . ." Stephen walks towards his song choice for you and pulls it out of the shelf, "We'll listen to this one." 

You take the record from his hands but this time, you're the one who sets it up in the player before Stephen did—leaving the lad impressed. Clearly you were just showing off.

"Wow, not many people your age know how to use that, I'm impressed." Stephen admits and nodded in approval.

"Who did you say was uncultured again?" You look up at him.

"Alright, alright. Show off." Stephen nudged you to the side, you nudged him back but unlike you, he didn’t budge. He laughed. 

🎶I've been meaning to tell you, I've got this feelin' that won't subside. I look at you and I fantasize—You're mine tonight—Now, I've got you in my sights🎶

While you were leaning down and holding the headphone driver on your right ear, Stephen was holding the second headphone driver on his left ear. You could feel the heat from his cheeks against yours again and with the song being about having attraction towards someone, you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach intensifying.

His fingers traced the outline of your jaw, beckoning you to meet his stare, as he leans down, his mouth inches away from yours, your stares lock, "Do you like the song?" He whispers, his breath skating over your lips.

"Hello? Earth to (Y/N)!" Stephen waved his hands over your face to get you out of your trance, you shook your head and looked up at him, swallowing the saliva pooling in your mouth, "Glad to have you back, Jesus, where did you go just now?"

Sasha buried her head into the pillow and screamed out of second hand cringe, "You're too obvious Mom! Ugh. Stoooop!"

"Oh er—I was just listening intently to the song. . ."

"The song finished at least a minute ago."

"Oh. . .really?" 

Stephen chuckled, "Weirdo," he then hung the headphones in its hook, "So are you going to tell me your thoughts?" 

You blinked fast, eyes lingering on his lips after you daydreamed about it just now, "Of course I think the song is good—It’s from Dirty Dancing for crying out loud."

"You like dirty dancing?" Stephen asked casually, his tone conversational.

You flick your attention to him, pulse thrumming, "Um. . . I don't know. I'm too shy to do that sort of thing." You look away.

Stephen knitted his brow; it was obvious that he had not anticipated that you would take his question in the wrong context. Because it was so out of the blue, he was unable to hold back his laughter, his head falling backwards.

“What? You obviously know I don't go to clubs! You probably have a lot of experience if you find my experience laughable." You furrowed your eyebrows in his direction, but Stephen paid you no mind as he continued to laugh, at this point holding one arm over his upper abdomen, "What is so funny?!"

"I–I was talking about the. . .the m-movie—" Stephen managed to say in between his laughter.

For the love of Christ. You bit your bottom lip and frowned, "You should’ve been more specific then! Ugh!" you turned on your heels and whirled around, yanking his record out of his hands to pay for it, "Just this one, thank you." You said to the cashier as you slid a solid dirty-dollar note on the counter.

After getting the change, you turned to Stephen who now stood behind you with a lop-sided smile on his face, you growled softly and shoved the record to his chest, “Now we’re even.” You walked out ahead of him and he followed you.

“You owe me one more.” Stephen stated from behind you as he followed you closely.

“I think embarrassing myself in front of you multiple times should cover that?” 

Stephen’s smile slowly faded when he realised that you weren’t in a joking mood anymore, he took a few more steps toward you and whirls you around after gripping your wrist, “Oh C’mon, (Y/N). I was just kidding, I don’t really don’t care whether you have experience or not. Why are you getting so upset?”

Flustered by the way he twirled you around, you refused eye-contact. Because I have a crush on you dammit! “Nothing, will you just take me home? Please?” 

You turned your head to look at him and saw that he was analysing something on your face for a few minutes before he finally said, "Okay" and released your wrist. He then proceeded past you in the direction of his motorcycle.

You timidly follow him as he kickstarts his ignitions, Stephen revs the engine and impatiently addresses you whilst you stand there waiting for permission to get on, “Well? Are you getting on or are you going to wait for hell to freeze?”

You huffed quietly and carefully mounted yourself behind him. 

“Here, put it on.” He passes you the leather jacket and urges you to take it when you don't.

“I don’t need it.”

“I said, put it on.” He demanded, this time sounding slightly irritated. Feeling intimidated at the shift of his mood you took the jacket and wore it.

“You’re going to catch a cold.” You quietly replied, now slightly feeling bad for snapping at him when he’s the one doing you a favour.

“Worry about yourself first.” Stephen’s icy reply could penetrate the leather jacket you were now wearing, “Are you all set? It might be a longer drive than last time.”

You slid closer to him and put your delicate hands over his broad shoulders, but something caught your wrist and wrapped it around his waist instead. You didn’t bother trying to reposition yourself when it was him who placed your arms there. You swallowed hard and focused instead on the warmth in front of you. The solid frame. It almost deleted your sense of embarrassment earlier on.

To make the most of the almost empty road, Stephen cranked up the throttle, and the two of you took off. Stephen must’ve sensed your mood shifted once again when you rested your cheek on his back. He began to talk but you were too distracted by too many sensations. His voice, the slightly cold breeze, his scent and the friction of his large frame as you held onto him to keep yourself in place. Your thoughts were attempting to centre themselves on the content of his words rather than the mental picture of his lips that kept popping up.

“Are you asleep?” He asked when you didn’t answer his question.

“No.” You answered plainly.

“Then why aren’t you answering?” 

“Because along with the wind, your motorcycle is very loud.” You told him part of the truth whilst talking loudly to beat the sound of the wind and the engine.

“I was asking whether you want to get inspiration, I know a place, me and Donna found it when we went hiking in St. Clair Mountain.” He repeats himself, “I assume you’ve been there?”

“Uhhh. . . not really.”

“What?!” Stephen almost pressed the brakes after hearing you haven’t been to St. Clair Mountain, “You’re a local here and you haven’t been there?” 

“My dad doesn’t want me going hiking—it took me one week to convince him to allow me to join my friends on that camping trip.” 

“Wow. . . I am so sorry that you’re being forced to live with a dictator dad.” Stephen replied nonchalantly. He didn’t like your dad, not after meeting him the first time—and he was sure Arthur didn’t like him either. 

“Hey, that’s my dad you’re talking about.” 

“Right, right. Sorry.” He shrugs but you could tell by this tone that he didn’t mean it, “So what do you say? You in or you out?” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You told Stephen to drop you off a couple of blocks away and you’d just walk the rest so as to not get caught by the prying eyes of Darla and your father. Fortunately for you, both your parents were already asleep by the time you arrived but you still tip-toed your way to your room to not wake them up and question you about your night. 

You entered your room, your curtains were closed and it has been for a couple of days now—especially after Stephen caught you dancing in your room. You freshened yourself up and changed into your pyjamas. Of course, before going to bed you pulled your diary and wrote about your day. 

Ten minutes later, you hear a tap on your window. You cautiously made your way towards it and peaked through the cracks to find Stephen sitting on his alcove, throwing corn kernels at your window; you pushed your curtains aside and his face lit up when he found you still awake. He wore an oversized t-shirt and black sweatpants, his hair damp as if he just got out of the shower. He motioned for you to open your window as well so you could talk to him.

“Have you made up your mind yet?” He asked as he munched on popcorn in a glass bowl.

“No. I don’t know—it depends on who’s coming.” you replied and reluctantly sat on your alcove as well.

“Depends on who’s coming? So you want it to be just you and me?” Stephen asks confidently and tilts his head. There he goes again with that annoying smile.

“Please, don’t get ahead of yourself. If Donna’s coming then I’ll one hundred percent go.”

Stephen nodded, “I see. But what if Donna doesn’t want to go?” 

“Then I’ll keep thinking about it.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Out of the blue, Sasha’s phone begins to ring and finds that it was you who was calling. She gives herself a few seconds before answering your call. 

“Hi Mom.” “Hey ladybug, how are you doing?” 

“I’m doing alright, how are you?” 

Paris

“I’m doing fine. . . It’s five in the evening here right now. Are you behaving yourself?” You asked as you sat along in your balcony that had a full view of the Eiffel Tower.

“Yeah, Grandma taught me her choc chip cookie recipe.” Sasha said over the phone. You smiled to hear that she took interest in baking, “It was alright for my first try, maybe I’ll just add extra butter next time, I like my cookies gooey.”

“Gooey.” you both said at the same time, “You remind me of someone who always requested gooey cookies from me.”

“Really? Who?”

“A kid who used to live next door when I was a teenager. He loved your Grandma’s cookie recipe, I actually asked mom to teach me how to bake because of him.”

“Victor Strange?” Sasha’s mouth slipped and she covered her mouth. 

“Y-Yes. How did you know that?” You almost sat up from your chair when you heard the name.

“Er. . . Grandma! She talked about it. While we were. . .making. . .cookies.”

“Oh. . . alright. Well, you better get some practice, I want to try your cookies.” You relaxed back to your chair.

“Mhm, mhm.”

“I miss you, ladybug.” 

“I miss you too,” There was a long pause between you, “Hey Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“Don’t get mad but I saw your trophies and gold medals from Ice Skating. . . how come you never told me about it?” Sasha eased into the question, fingers crossed so hard as she wished for you not to get angry.

You were rendered speechless for a second, “I didn’t think it was important.” 

“Are you serious? My mom was an olympian when she was my age and got gold medals all throughout. How is that not important?” Sasha beamed through the phone, “You were a legend! You should’ve continued—”

“Honey, just like you, I lost interest okay? Can we not talk about this right now? I’ll tell you all about my competition when I get back okay? I. . I gotta go. I love you.” You spoke quickly and hung up the phone before your daughter could even say I love you back.

The line began beeping and Sasha looked at her phone puzzled, “She hung up on me.” 

SERIES TAGS: @goldencherriess @lokislov3 @strangesweetheart @mydearalmira @veryladyqueen @seasonofthenerd @artsherlocked @bobateadaydreams @classicrebound @holygalaxyprincess @dumbbitch04 @sobeautifullyobsessed @winsteria @allie131313 @gaitwae @sherlux @the-royal-petals @keistange @omgstarks @evelynrosestuff @withalittlehoney @strangeions @gwephen @cemak @patbrdac @siredlust @downtownshabby @nicoletk @lilithskywalker @youcantseem3

[bozowrites]

skipping beats

steve harrington x f!reader [angst/fluff]

steve ignored any heartbeat skips 'cause you were his best friend, what great that did him

w/c : 1.4k

a/n : make a part two with a happy ending, we'll see :) enjoy, my little idiots <3

masterlist | navigation | rules for requesting

♡

one.

the first time steve felt weak in the knees because of his best friend was in eighth grade. they were learning how to waltz for the upcoming school dance. they both had dates that they didn’t want to disappoint, so, with slow music playing and in steve’s room, they stumbled to dance together accordingly.

both seemed to have two left feet; it was messy. y/n would try to take lead and so would steve. y/n would step on his feet, and she’d laugh every time. when they finally started getting the hang of it, steve tried dipping y/n, a dramatic and romantic finale he thought it would be.

but he dropped her, and she took him with her to the ground. he expected her to grumble at him about it and curse him out, but she burst out laughing. it was the uncontrollable kind that had your tummy in aches at the end of it. when she laughed like that, steve would laugh too. when things calmed down, y/n was looking at him. she was smiling fondly and had this look in her eyes that told him she was happy. being around y/n always had him with that exact same look.

what really had steve skip a heartbeat was the moment he stood up and put a handout for her to grab. standing up, hands holding, she brought her lips to his cheek for a short, small peck. “thank you, steve harrington, for the dance.”

“uh−yeah, you’re…you’re welcome, y/n l/n.”

♡

two.

steve and y/n were now in tenth grade. steve was up in popularity, while y/n remained on the outskirts of it all. she didn’t need to get involved with those “revolting nitwits” as she put it. the two didn’t interact much in school, but outside of it they had time together. she’d still go over to his place; they’d still watch horrible chick flicks, argue about the toppings on the pizza, and push and shove each other off the sofa.

“this movie is so cliché.” steve laughs. y/n jabs him in his side with her foot to shut him up as the romantic scene between the two lovers was coming up. “it is, but i love it so shut up.” he rolls his eyes. the scene she was waiting for was that romantic kiss that every one of these movies had.

“i can’t wait for that to happen to me.” y/n sighs longingly. he never really got to see this side of her where she longs for romance. she’d bring it up every now and then but never went into detail about it. he never really wants to hear about it if he was honest. only because it’s weird to think about her in a relationship. he grew up with her, she used to gag at the idea of a guy holding her hand if it wasn’t steve’s, now she’s longing and sighing for someone. it’s a weird transition.

when she told him she got asked to the dance in eighth grade, he was in disbelief that she’d said yes. he thought they were going together. he had to ask some random girl out to not feel so out of place.

“you want a dramatic love story with a popular guy who’s communication skills are shit?” y/n sits up. she hums the tune of the song at the end credits. she doesn’t answer him as she heads for the kitchen with her empty glass. steve gets up frantically with his own glass and runs to the kitchen, slowing down to stand behind her. “wait, do you actually?!”

“if he’s anything like danny, then yes.” steve scoffs. “i’m way better than him.” when y/n turns to face him, she has a smirk on her lips. she starts filling his glass with lemonade, saying, “steve, are you jealous?”

he scoffs again. with almost no time to get out a poor excuse of why he hates the idea of her dating someone like danny, she laughs. “didn’t think you’d be the type to be jealous of danny.”

his heart had skipped a beat then. he honestly doesn’t know why it did. there was a moment of relief that washed over him, but there shouldn’t have been. he doesn’t even know why he was mad in the first place. she could date who she wanted and find whoever she wanted attractive.

“i’m not. i know i’m better than him. hotter too.”

“right, of course, you’re the hottest guy in hawkins.” she left the kitchen after her statement, leaving steve gaping like a fish. “what…?” and another beat skipped.

♡

three.

steve had lost contact with y/n in eleventh grade. he didn’t mean for it to happen, but when he started going out more and to parties (which he had invited her to a few times), they simply stopped trying. it also didn’t help that he dotted on nancy a good portion of that year. when he’d see her in the corridors, he’d smile and give a nod; the kind you give to an acquaintance.

his so-called “friends” at the time would make fun of her and call her names whenever they could. he didn’t stop them, which screws with him to this day.

“steve!” y/n flung herself onto the counter of family video, greeting steve with a grin and handed him a movie she’d rented a few days ago. when steve dropped his “friends”, he went straight for her (and nancy). they acted as if nothing happened. she told him to forget it and to catch her up on what she missed. so he did. at the time, he was still infatuated with nancy. she went with steve to johnathan’s place to apologize to her, as emotional support she put it. that’s when both were introduced to the world of demogorgons and such. that night they didn’t sleep much. y/n stayed at steve’s place like old times and they talked all night.

“y/n!”

“the kids and i are going out for pizza tonight, you in?” oh yeah, the kids found themselves attached to her hip. he found it cute. he’d get her to be his co-babysitter, so it only came naturally for them to love her too. dustin would always bug him about it, that y/n was quote-unquote, “a perfect match for him.”

it was stupid to think something like that.

“yeah, yeah of course. i get off soon.”

“awesome sauce. meet us there as soon as you get off.” she leaned over the counter and reached for his hair. she mutters, “fluff.” and shows him a small thing of lint. it’s only when she leaves that he lets go of his breath. he honestly thought she was reaching to touch his face which is crazy. his heart shouldn’t be skipping at such a thought.

“you gonna finally admit you like her?” he jumps; robin was smirking behind him, arms crossed.

“no.” she scoffs. “why not? it’s so obvious.”

“i don’t like her, that’s why. i’ve known her since kindergarten. it’d be too weird. plus, she’s not my type.”  

♡

four.

steve ducks behind some bushes, pulling dustin down with him to hide. “steve, you’re being creepy.”

“no, i’m not. i’ve already told you, i’m protecting her.”

“by spying on her?”

“yes.”

dusting sighs and looks into the binoculars. he gasps immediately. “what?! is he kissing her?!” dustin groans. “no, dumbass, she’s wearing the dress we got her for her birthday.”

“really?” steve grabs the binoculars without much warning and looks into them. dustin chokes as he removes the string from around his neck. “ah…she looks nice.”

the two sat in silence as steve stared through the binoculars. dustin tapped his fingers on his thighs, humming quietly a tune while he waited for steve to do or say something.

“woah, woah, woah! what the hell?!” dustin jumps a little, looking over the hedge but not seeing much since being so far from the couple.

“what?!” dustin attempts to take the binoculars, but steve pushes him back. “he…she’s kissing him…” dustin stops struggling with him as steve puts down the binoculars and slumps. steve turns to lie on his back and sighs. he goes to say something, but nothing comes out.

“you’re an idiot.”

“excuse me?” steve looks up at dustin. the last thing steve needed was that. “if you just told her you liked her, that could’ve been you.” steve sits up, looking at dustin with confusion. “what do you mean? what difference would this make?”

“so you finally admit to liking her.”

“yes, okay! i love my best friend!” he nearly shouts. both boys check the two lovebirds in the park. they didn’t seem to hear, leaving steve to sigh again. “woah, there, dude.”

“what difference would it have made? she clearly doesn’t like me back.” steve aggressively gestures to the sight many feet away with his hands. dustin shakes his head. “if you’d just listened to robin and me.” he doesn’t say anything past that as he grabs his things and leaves for steve’s car.

he shouldn't have been here in the first place. he shouldn't have seen that. steve grabs the rest of their things and heads for the car too.

[arcticmonkeysaf]

Finally had some time to reflect on the show I saw on 9.11.2023 in Alpharetta, Georgia! some unorganized thoughts:

first off, Alex seemed to be in SUCH a good mood! he was very pleased with the crowd!!! He even paused and said “You’re a lovely crowd, really lovely!” midway through the set 💕 idk about the back but from my vantage point it felt like plenty of people were devoted fans who were jumping and bopping and singing along to every song. And the rest of the venue in the seats was LOUD with their applause and screams too! During multiple songs the flashlights came out and made it so pretty. I’m so glad Alex felt the energy too 🥹 he was very sweet and smiley at the end of the encore and seemed like he took extra long waving and blowing kisses 🥺❤️❤️❤️

after Snap Out of It with everyone singing along so loud I’m pretty sure he joked “Hey Jude!” (because of the sing along at the end of that) but people heard “Love you!” and they screamed “I love YOU!!!” — anyway that all made me laugh lmao

STAR TREATMENT!!!! sounded so beautiful omg ✨ also had the “I just wanted a jet ski for moat” line 😭

there were a couple transitions that surprised me!! like a new one (to me) between Knee Socks into Do Me a Favour! it had me SHOOK TO MY CORE (posted it in my story highlights but i’ll try to get it on here too!)

they also did the Teddy Picker/Crying Lightning transition 🥹

Alex started 505 at the piano 🥺

speaking of that, the piano interlude before Sculptures is SO GORGEOUS my goodness

SUCK IT AND SEE!!! funnily enough the girl next to me predicted Pretty Visitors right before they played it, and I told her I was predicting SIAS as the encore AND IT HAPPENED (our power 😂)

Body Paint outro was incredible and felt extra long because they were so into it!!! but the gold star goes to Matt because he was absolutely pounding those drums like his life depended on it, his insane drum fills made us all go nuts omg. Alex and Jamie were like egging him on at one point too!

overall they just had a very loose vibe to them. like Alex would fiddle around on guitar tuning it (?) after the first verse of Fluorescent Adolescent without the band skipping a beat, or he’d improv a couple words in SIAS. Little things like that made the on stage vibe so cool to watch 💖

the lining up since super early (12 hours 😵‍💫) was NOT my favorite nor was the intense heat later in the day that had everyone sweating like crazy but tbh that all fell away when AM took the stage 🖤 I met some incredibly nice people and it was beautiful to be amongst fellow fans having the time of our lives :’)

can’t stop reiterating that their energy was so electric and feeding off of the crowd’s 🥹 definitely in my top three favorite shows I’ve been to!

[moonlight-tmd]

Prowlbee dancing based off this scene?

Hmm that's very interesting.

I suppose they would do something like a competitive tango or something similar where they'll both try to be the better dancer. I had just the right idea a while back where I found a very cool tune on youtube- a soundtrack named "Angelica" from "Pirates of the Carribean: On Stranger Tides".

The before dating shenanigans with these 2 are just too good to resist so this is yet again the setting for this- i guess Sari, Bee and Bulkhead were having yet another fun time either dancing to Just Dance game or just casually dancing to the music they played and Prowl started complaining about the sound.

Bee took charge in arguing with him per usual and at some point he accused Prowl of being a horrible dancer in such a way that made Prowl want to prove otherwise. Bee challaged Prowl to dance with him and the fool accepted. He expected bee to throw on some pop music to sync dance to like always but he didn't expect a latino tango music to start playing

"With all the flips and twirls you do in combat surely you'll know how to dance to this, don't you?" Bee was far too cocky and Prowl bit the bait without thinking. They started dancing.

At first it was calm, some occasional twirls and transitions between poses but then the rythm quickened. And let me tell ya, they were going at it. One moment Prowl was leading the next he was trying to catch up to Bee and vice versa. Some of the moves didn't even look like tango but well synced combat. Unltimately tho, Bee took the lead for good and brought Prowl on a fast paced adventure- they were close then far then close again, Prowl's pedes has trouble keeping up with Bee's, the way he pulled him aroudn almsot made him look like he glided. As the song neared its climax Bee spun him around so fast and did a astonishing dip pose just as the final note played from the speaker.

Everyone clapped, even Optimus and Ratched who came out to see what the commotion was about. Prowl was... wow. He honestly did not expect Bee to be such a good dancer. The passion and the way Bee held him- looked at him during the dance clouded his mind. He was snapped from the dazed state when he heard Bee say something to him.

" I- uhh-" Prowl tried to come up with something to reply to whatever Bee said but Bee seemed to take that as an answer. "I take it you're impressed by me, heheheh.~" He teased in such a tone Prowl could barely get his thoughts together.

Theeeeen he went straight into continuing their little dance party with some obnoxious pop and electronica music and just like that, the charm poofed into thin air. Prowl, annoyed yet again, decided to just go back into his room and try to block the sound out with his earmuffs that Sari got him.

Bulkhead knew what Bee was onto and so did everyone else,... except Bee himself it seemed. Prowl was also very clueless despite obvious signs. They watched them dance around each other metaphorically for so long and now they were doing it literally and still didn't get the memo! At this point someone would just have to tell them...

Well, they were pretty much right about everything. One thing is that Bee actually knew what he was doing and somehow persuaded/paid Blitzwing to teach him how to dance good. The 'con might be a bad guy but he sure knows how to move the frame to impress someone. He might not be aware of being in love with Prowl but he sure as hell wants him to like him and be impressed. And Prowl did think about their dance whenever he heard similar music so I suppose it worked just fine!

[falsettos-tight-knit-family]

30 Falsettos Challenge in 2 Days (Part 2)

16) A Character You'd Want To Date: Whizzer. No questions asked. Next-

17) A Character You Want To Get To Know Better: As I said before, I'd love to know more about Charlotte as a character because I love the lesbians and I feel like even Cordelia got more fleshing out than she did.

18) Best Decision Someone Made In The Musical: Jason choosing to have his Bar Mitzvah in Whizzer's hospital room is something that still emotionally pains me every time I hear that song tbh

19) One Character You'd Want To Sing With: I'd take either part in any Whizzvin duet, especially if we're talking about Christian and Andrew's versions, they both have such good voices to harmonize with.

20) Favorite Cast Member: Andrew Rannells. I became immediately obsessed with other stuff he's done (I want to watch Black Monday and The New Normal so bad, but my family doesn't have Amazon Prime). Only when I watched the Thanksgiving side by side did I realize that the entire cast is incredibly chaotic in the best of ways and has such good chemistry together.

21) To Try To Convince Someone To Watch Falsettos, What Would You Show Them? I've already done this twice with my friends, the first thing I show them is a very specific compilation on youtube (Falsettos Act 1 Moments That Make Me Scream), because it's the same way I got into Falsettos to begin with

22) Which Act Did You Prefer? In terms of just music, probably Act 1 because I always lean towards more upbeat songs and it has less of a chance to make me burst out crying while watching/listening to it. But in terms of which I'd rather watch, I'd for sure say Act 2. The lesbians are there, you get to see Marvin and Whizzer get back together along with all of his and everyone else's character development, the story is absolutely heartbreaking, and I could go on-

23) Something That Makes You Passionately Rant: There's so many details between Unlikely Lovers through the end of What Would I Do that I feel the need to rant about. This is all stream of consciousness written at 2 am, so fair warning and I hope it all makes some kind of sense. So I talked briefly about Unlikely Lovers in another question, but ever since I saw someone point out how one of the reasons Whizzer probably wanted Marvin to go home was because he didn't want Marvin to have to wake up next to him if he died in his sleep, which I believe is true and the implication that he would rather spend what is hypothetically his last night alone, than for Marvin to have to go through that hurts me so bad- I already talked about the Cordelia part, but I will bring it up again because it is literally the first time we see her sad and it needs to be acknowledged more often. Jason praying to God and asking him for something for what appears to be the first time ("I don't think we've ever really spoken"). He doesn't know if God exists, but he's praying and hoping that if He does, He can somehow help Whizzer. In the Something Bad Reprise, when Charlotte says the line about AIDS being infectious, it feels like there's hardly a reaction on Marvin's end. As if he's already lost so much in the few weeks since learning Whizzer had it, that he's either numb/not surprised anymore or just doesn't care as much if he lives or dies if Whizzer will be gone by then anyway. I don't think there's much to be pointed out about You Gotta Die Sometime, but I do want to bring up how the end of that song immediately transitions into Jason's Bar Mitzvah. Whizzer finally let himself feel scared and just had an emotional breakdown over accepting the fact that he's about to die. He was sobbing by the time the transition happened and it's still noticeable as Jason starts singing. He's terrified that he's going to die, and now everyone he cares about is suddenly here. In his hospital room. All together here to celebrate one of the most important days in Jason's life, with Whizzer, who just two years ago was only known as Marvin's male lover. The one who broke up the family. Now he was part of the family, the one bringing them all together. Again, What Would I Do is just depressing even on surface level. I know everyone says they cry over "We're just gonna skip that stage" and i understand that, I'm much more emotionally damaged by Marvin's "I'd do it again. I'd like to believe that I'd do it again and again and again" which aside from showing how much he's grown since the beginning, he's not only saying he'd go through all that drama and heartache just to be with Whizzer every single time, but he also knows at this point that he is also most likely going to die directly because he was involved with Whizzer. And still, he'd do it all again for him (As I write this I am not okay-). Oh and also, in Days Like This, right before the song starts, Marvin very clearly puts on a fake smile to try and make Whizzer feel better and it really does need to be appreciated more-

24) A Character From Another Musical You'd Like To See In Falsettos: After that essay of pure sadness, I'm gonna go for the funny route and say Elder Price, not for anything story or even character related (because idk enough about the story or characters of BoM), but purely because it's Andrew Rannells² and I think the reactions to someone who looks just like Whizzer would be funny

25) A Character You Can Identify With: As much as I'd love to say Whizzer (and I do identify with him to an extent), it has to be Cordelia. Her general aura of happiness and energy, being the only one entertained by Marvin during The Baseball Game, and awkwardly laughing at Mendel's bad jokes, all are things I heavily relate to-

26) Favorite Non-Romantic Relationship: Whizzer and Jason's stepfather-son bond. I love them so so much, I wholeheartedly think that he was Jason's best dad of the 3. He came to his baseball game, despite being broken up with his father for 2 years and even when not part of the family, made it clear to everyone that he loves Jason ("I love baseball. I love Jason" "I love Jason, but this is not his venue"). He was the one who stood up and taught him how to swing the bat correctly and supported him fully, even though he knew as well as anyone that Jason wasn't great at the game. I will never be over this

--- 27) Favorite Quote/One Part Of A Song: Well the "kill your mother" line is taken from earlier so I'll say during Everyone Tells Jason To See a Psychiatrist, from when they introduced Whizzer like a Heather and through to the end of the song. The dramatic entrance, the head flick, Whizzer’s excited smile when Jason says he’ll go, Marvin mocking Trina’s hand movements during “they don’t make house calls” it’s all great

28) Something A Character Did That Pissed You Off: Marvin hitting Trina would be too obvious and the Chess Game was a metaphor, but Marvin in This Had Better Come to a Stop when he says Whizzer should "Always be here, making dinner, set to screw" and just being generally hypocritical (ex. "Whizzer screws too much to see what a joy's monogamy" sir you cheated on your wife and want to have both her and Whizzer at the same time. Idc if it's not sexual, it sure as hell isn't traditional monogamy)

29) A Photo/Edit/Manip That Makes You Happy: Here’s a couple of many behind the scenes pictures that make me smile (yes one is technically a gif)

Can you tell I love Andrew Rannells?

30) Something Else About The Musical You Want To Add (Wildcard): You know what I'm gonna simp in the wildcard- The way Andrew says a couple of his lines, specifically in the proshot, are randomly very attractive to me. I specifically mean "Hang up your clothes Marvin, breeding shows, Marvin" in TTOFL and "Sex and games in New York City" in A Day In Falsettoland. Also, idk if this is simp worthy or not, but the higher harmonies Christian hits in some of the songs (ex. Unlikely Lovers) are so pretty and super satisfying to listen to