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sharonisthebettercarter · 8 days

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billy butcher and addiction--

felt there's a need for a good and proper analysis for this fucker (as well as i can manage, maybe throw in a bit of a rant on poor fandom etiquette, 'three laws of fandom' are an oldie but a goodie lol) so here we go i guess--

i wanna start by saying this is a full scope character deep dive (sortaish?? best i can do take it or leave it--lol i might go further in depth on specific scenes or whatnot later, i'm longwinded but i'm tryin' to condense as best i can for this, aaaaaaaaaaand long long post ahead--) that def includes elements solidly confirmed in dear becky and probably leans more on comics billy overall, but def does intertwine and interlock with show billy (as they are essentially the same, garth ennis' own words went something like 'he's a perfect billy butcher' lol)

i'll try to avoid spoilers (??) for the most part like dear becky, but there are some things that may need more context (there is quite a bit of in the show that works well enough to represent anyway but i guess we'll see how this goes, i may end up talking more about the show elements and how they parallel with comics billy anyway)

i also think it's worth mentioning that there's a lot to billy (especially in the comic) i feel fandom either ignores, dismisses or doesn't want to acknowledge, or just doesn't notice.

whether from personal bias/prejudice, desire (fitting billy into that 'alpha's alpha' toxic masculinity 'dom top' fever dream 'mold' so to speak, probably--no, definitely the *worst* way to interpret and easiest way bungle up his character, it completely misses the fact that billy has built *that* 'daddy approved' version of himself as a *facade* to *hide* his own shame and insecurity, and he is *so* much more complex than that nonsense (and genuinely uncomfortable and unhappy being that way-beyond the subtle guilt of a constant high). can we talk about the ways in which fandoms promote and perpetuate toxic masculinity--what, no time we'll be here all week?? oh, okay. jesus fucking christ that is exactly as bad if not worse than the maga chud interpretation and unironic worship of homelander--), lack of personal experience/familiarity, understanding--fuck it, even lack of education in media analysis or reading comprehension (if not both), and *especially* being pro-censorship/americentric/*stuck* with purity culture blinders (or even some part of them lingering)

all of those can def make media (and characters like billy) that isn't 'cookie cutter america-approved' fairly difficult to understand or accept (i guess??)

i've seen so much listed to hell and back in attempts to describe comics billy. 'he's a piece of shit' *YES*. 'he's just wish fulfillment for the author's hatred of superheroes' *no*??? let me not get into the complete hypocrisy of someone who writes or enjoys fanfic--the epitome of *wish fulfilment*--unironically complaining about other authors doing this and thinking it's a legit complaint. how does *anyone* read the entire story and come to *that* conclusion???

did you even bother reading the comic? no, i don't mean glossing over it with a completely closed mind while actively ignoring and dismissing everything important put in front of you and designed to make you think because the blood and guts or other is too distracting apparently, i mean *actually* reading it thoroughly and making an effort to think about what's being presented and why, waiting for the drop *instead* of jumping to judge (as is the american way)

and to some degree, i get it. i wouldn't say this comic is the easiest to digest (especially if completely unfamiliar with many of the themes presented, even the show has sparked some ass takes and interpretations) there's also plenty of common misconceptions, one in particular about garth ennis 'hating' superheroes. this is actually not true, what he hates is how the superhero *genre* has bottlenecked the comics industry and what is more likely to see success in it (and as a fellow creative, i completely understand how frustrating that would be, his main interest is actually war stories)

it's def one thing to say, 'nah, i don't vibe with the style' or 'it's not really for me/my taste but it's fine if others like it', i get that, satire and horror aren't for everyone. honest critique is fair even.

but it is a whole 'nother thing entirely to pretend your own personal tastes are *the only 'correct' creative law* and then *vehemently* oppose or hate something an artist created and denounce, harass, or fuck--dehumanize the people who enjoy it, if not the artists who work(ed) on it.

i'm sorry, this is a tangent cause it's def not limited to the hate the boys comics or ennis gets *at all*, it's especially prevalent in *literal* kids media like teen titans go where the thing in question is simply put--*NOT MADE FOR THE SHITHEADS NONSTOP COMPLAINING ABOUT IT* when they can literally, *LITERALLY* just *accept* that they weren't the *target audience* and move the fuck on with their day, happy as can be. *instead* of shitting on something *or the people who like it* to make literal *children* or other people feel bad about liking it.

it's one thing to try and educate people or have discourse and discussion, it is another entirely to *bully* them over something so *stupid* as *fiction*.

i especially have a problem with this shit when i have *several* artists tell me that they don't feel *safe* or *welcome* being themselves, liking or creating what *they* want to make in a fandom *because* of the fandom attitude and normalization of *hate* within that fandom.

i *thought* fandoms were supposed to be about *love* so what the fuck is this human tribalist false dichotomy bullshit??

and of course, that's not always the case. there is also an unbelievable level of respect that is given to fanartists and fanfiction writers, and that is *beautiful*. 'don't like, don't read'. *PERFECT*. curate your own content, complain or rant in your own spaces--you're entitled to an opinion, but *accept* that it still has a right to exist and other people still have a right to love it (and aren't wrong for that, opinions cannot be objective), *even if you don't like it*. just don't engage then, it's that simple.

now extend that level of courtesy to the people, artists and writers in the industry.

no, i'm not trying to shut down criticism of media, proper critique is how we learn and grow and understand better and in turn *create* better. yes, they can fumble the fucking bag too, especially when adapting something from a source material and--like *some* fanfic writers out there--think they can do it 'way better'.

but the people in the industry? who bend over backwards, going on strike in some cases, breaking their necks to work on and create the things that we *love* and latch onto?

they're people too. and whether the thing they make goes *exactly* how we want or not, however you feel about the money in the entertainment industry (which they see barely a dime of if those fucking strikes and constant mistreatment are any indication), they don't deserve to be treated like scabs.

that mentality of 'not my personal taste = universally bad' and 'anyone who disagrees with my opinion is wrong' is fucking gross and *extremely elitist*, just straight up announcing how pretentious, obtuse, willfully arrogant and ignorant, and *lacking in self awareness*--the number one easiest way to be the *shittiest* kind of artist/writer/critic--you are. it is *exactly* like cishet white men complaining about something being 'bad' because it's 'woke' or has anything *besides* a cishet white man for the protagonist.

*god forbid something isn't tailor made specifically for them.*

swear to gawd, i got a list of different bullshit and circle jerking i've seen all across different fandoms for different reasons. no i'm not mad at any one person in particular, just a little salty from recurring problems and gatekeeping (ghoulfucking-GHOULFUCKING OF ALL THINGS I--I CANNOT) if not straight up bullying (does it really make a bitch feel *so* much better to try and hurt other people for liking what they, and let's be honest, are not willing to give the time of day?) in fandoms. (the complete audacity of people to complain about a media being 'childish' or 'bad' because 'insert nonsensical trivial bullshit here that holds no weight because it's personal taste if not flat out wrong and not actual critique' and then turn around and throw the biggest fucking tantrums about it--let me not get into the whole sharon carter debacle jesus christ--)

same shit. different pile.

also, fuck me. i keep *forgetting* that genuinely valid critique (*not* personal taste/opinion, proper critique pertains to things like techniques used, composition, narrative consistency and plot holes, goals of the artist/writer, accomplishments of those goals, etc.) is something that needs proper education and understanding all on its own which not a whole ton of people get or even know, which just goes to show--i'm a dumbass too. (but i won't deny that plenty of 'critics' are full of shit and *know* this but use their 'personal taste' as 'critique' *anyway* because... they enjoy being complete assholes and discouraging other artists i guess.)

y'all, take a class or two in art critique and literature analysis. you'll learn all the cool lingo (to later forget if you're like me~), and maybe (hopefully) walk out with a bit more of an open mind wanting to encourage more art in the world, even if you don't personally like it. take a moment to *listen* to differing opinions in their *entirety* and you might even gain a new perspective.

*no one* should be ashamed to ask questions or admit they don't know or understand something and fuck the people that would make you feel that way. *we can and should help each other.*

but stagnant or hostile fandoms with no self awareness and perpetuated elitism circle jerks? *really* fucking shameful, regardless of the form or where they are.

ANYWHO--

ugh, fuck. okay. i think i'm done with that tangent, back on topic--

BILLY BEAN~<3

and i want to reiterate that *again*, dear becky *does* confirm pretty much everything i'm going to discuss here tho technically speaking, nothing is spoiled here as it's just reiterating what is implicit (if not stated outright) throughout the series.

as far as dear becky goes, it's a good final gut-wrenching piece to the series and i loved it, but it definitely leaned on more of 'tell' instead of 'show, don't tell' (no duh in context, but probably because the rest of the comic did the 'show'--very well imo but it still flew over peoples' heads and made them misplace their brains--i'm sorry, i've just lost so much patience for the lack of reading comprehension and media literacy, but honestly? ennis is genuinely too good at knowing how to spark a strong emotional reaction in readers. and can we talk about the dense mofos that *make* authors have to 'tell' just to confirm something that is heavily implied--what, no time? oh, fuck, fine.)

OKAY--

addiction.

what about it, and why am i mentioning it. well. because if it's not clear by now, william butcher is an addict.

and it is one of, if not the core element that drives him to do what he does.

not becky or becca. not justice.

addiction.

and i don't mean traditional substance abuse (though he admits there has been as much in his life, especially with alcohol, his drug of choice is a bit more complex and maybe not so easy to spot on the surface for those unfamiliar with addiction).

in the show, we even see him mention that he's 'done 'em all' and there's *nothing* like temp v--and it's because temp v *amplifies* his *addiction* to the highest level it could exist on.

something else to note, there's a ton of stigma and widespread (ableist) misconception surrounding addiction still (which may be part of why people may not want to recognize it in billy), but it is absolutely a clinical mental disorder and people who suffer from it should be treated as *medical patients*, not reduced to violent criminals and scumbags. (fuck you drug war and prohibition, you are the root of organized crime and you're racist as shit.) it's also possible to become addicted to *anything*. and i mean *anything*.

if you can repeat a behavior and your brain no longer cares whether or not that behavior is causing you harm because there is a *compulsive* urge for that *repetition* or a specific result from it? that is addiction. money, anger, pain, violence, self harm, attention, love...

you'd think the last one might be okay, but it's not. it's an easy way to get caught in the infinite loop of an abusive relationship, just with promise of it. no delivery necessary.

but it doesn't have to be drugs that cause addiction. hell, gambling addiction is a thing all it's own that can get *incredibly* severe.

and listen, too much of *anything* can be horrible for you. fucking coconut will give you the runs if you eat too much that shit is *not* fun pun intended--

i digress.

in billy's case? he's actually addicted to two i just listed.

violence. and self harm.

i mentioned before that what drives billy has next to nothing to do with what happened to becky or becca.

there's a common misconception that, at the end of the day, billy does have some level of good intent behind his actions, and to a degree this is true in the *complete reverse* of what people often assume, and this is proven repeatedly in both the show (with just what we have seen) and comic (where its laid out too heavily to ignore).

setting aside the fact that there's *never* a good 'rEaSoN' to commit or even attempt *genocide* (EVER. i have ZERO patience for the constant apologism of this bullshit, SWEAR TO GAWD FANDUMB--) and billy's genocidal tendencies on their own, the idea that 'he goes after homelander for becca' or 'justice' has been completely debunked.

'justice is not vengeance'

something to always keep in mind.

but... in the first season? hughie called him out on this.

butcher calls him a 'disgrace to robin's memory', and hughie--bless his little heart, responds with 'i think i'm doing this *for* her.'

it's an interesting response, because hughie is essentially saying--

'you'll *die* for this woman, but that's not what she would have wanted. i'm going to *live* for robin, and for *annie*, because *that's* what she would have wanted.'

and he's absolutely right. billy loved becca, would have died for her. but he refuses to listen and *live* for her.

the group therapist too even before hughie. she literally laid it all out, front and center in the clearest way possible, 'it's a defense mechanism', and then butcher had his little meltdown just before telling hughie about becca, everything he can, including *using* other peoples tragedies and his own *specifically* to manipulate hughie and try and make sure *starlight* can't *save* him from what butcher is trying to turn him into.

*so that hughie stays stuck on his reason to die, instead of finding one to live.*

in the second season, *becca* herself calls him out on this, multiple times.

'you put me on this pedestal but i never knew how to save you'.

'--i didn't come to you, i went to vought--.'

and that's just it, becca (and becky in the comic) is *intimately* familiar with billy's *addiction* and the underlying mental health issues he *wouldn't address*. she didn't tell him what happened even after the shock of it because she *knew* that it would just become a reason for billy to *give in* and be his worst self to a degree where she would *lose him* regardless of what she felt or asked for from him.

she felt she had to *suffer in silence* to *protect him* from *himself*, something that ends up *destroying* her.

becca wanted to *save* billy, but more importantly, she wanted *him* to *save himself* because she *believed in him*, *so much*.

'i never wanted that for you.'

she doesn't want billy to drown and suffer or cause harm in his own hatred and addictions. she *loved* him so much so, that she was willing to *drown herself* if it meant she could save *him*. she loved him *too much*.

billy's mum too, even tries to help in her own way. (she is much less aware of billy's activity in the comic, but we'll come back to her. for the show, this was likely in response to seeing the news about *stillwell*, something his dad fucking *praised* him for)

'--that he wouldn't have this hold on you--'

billy's actions are almost entirely driven by the *addiction* his father forced on him. on doing the things that would make his 'daddy' *proud*. and the thing is, he's *fully aware* of this.

he constantly *says* that *becca* is his 'reason', that she was his *cure*, but she's the *excuse*. his *new addiction* and *self medication* (also billy, you fucking cunt you *know* what you do and have no leg to stand on when it comes to self medicating--)

both in the worst of what he does and his rejection of addressing his own traumas, and she is *unwilling* in this endeavor. she never wanted this hate to consume him, she never wanted all of this death with her name as the signature, *she never wanted billy to be his father*, much less be something much worse.

he even admits as much in the third season when he hallucinates lenny who tells him his actions would 'break becca's heart'

billy responds something along the lines of 'becca's dead, it doesn't matter what she thinks'. (a line presented in the comic even more harshly, but it drives the point home perfectly.)

when he sees lenny again in his nightmare--

'i'm not that bastard--.'

'come off it billy, you always have been. cause anyone who's ever loved you, you end up gettin' 'em killed, don't ya--.'

'--the last person on god's green earth tryin' to stop you from bein' a monster, and what do you do? drag him down to your level... when he dies... and he will... then no can stop you.'

OOF OUCH OWIE--. the lenny stuff hits so damn hard but it represents *perfectly* what butcher's own *internalized beliefs* are.

mallory calls him out on it literally every season.

'--but billy! not the others!'

'it's like asking a cockroach to not be a cockroach--'

'--because it wouldn't stop with just homelander--'

'this was never about ryan or becca, it was always selfish. the hate inside that you want to let loose on the world.'

'--i was wrong... you are your father, always have been...'

and then there's billy's subsequent impulsive reaction to push ryan away, and *be his father*.

but hell, even in gen v when mallory is speaking to shetty.

and truthfully, billy was even showing *withdrawal* symptoms at the beginning of the third season.

billy himself, even *self punishes*, picking fights he knows he *won't* win as a way to counterbalance *and* satisfy his own addiction, infinite loop. vicious cycle.. (ooh i will def be coming back to the big one here--), and we see this in one *HUGE* way, and in many many smaller ways, but even in the more literal sense of going to bars, starting trouble, and laughing or smiling when he's getting beat the fuck up or *losing*.

it's even highlighted in the show, billy *seeking out violence* and conflict whether he should or not, *especially* when unnecessary. getting his own face busted up and smiling because of it is something that happens multiple times in the comic (even on accident in one instance), and is def given a place in the show. it's easy to pass off as billy simply being a masochist (which is def true lmao he does admit as much), but there's also more to it than that and it goes hand in hand with his *addiction* and--

what he thinks he deserves.

billy *hates himself* so *severely* that he actually *does not believe* that he is capable of the *good* that others, such as lenny, becca, his mum, and hughie are willing to *see* in him. he *completely* believes it when others say that 'he is his father' (internalizes it, struggles with it, and frequently acts on it).

he puts on a show. bravado, posture, and 'confidence'. and he's so good at putting on that front, that he can fool himself, even for a moment. and those that believe it will even *enable* him. and the people he feels *nothing* for? again, he maintains the front. he lives his life *masking*, *faking it*--so fucking hard. homelander could never--

and it's not even necessarily the result of toxic masculinity. don't get me wrong, he def has some issues with that lingering (y'all, if you have *say* you're an 'alpha' and posture out your sweet little ass off 24/7, you're def *not* an 'alpha' lmfao), but it's more so his own *trauma* that forces him to *cling* to that.

but when he *loves*, and he loves *deeply*, he completely rolls over and shows his belly like a kitten<3... when he was with becky, he was happy and comfortable, and all of that *ridiculousness* just melted away completely... he didn't feel any need for it because he felt *safe*, because this constant *insecurity* and feeling of being *threatened* all the damn time looming overhead had suddenly cleared up with becky there.

it's not even so much that billy doesn't feel fear. he might not traditionally (at all if his amygdala is damaged), but considering the fight or flight response, billy's *default* setting literally *is* that *fight* response. he's the way he is because he is *always* afraid and he's been conditioned for it to manifest itself as *rage*.

we see bits of his love come through in a few moments he has with people he has genuine care for. (the way he loves his mum and she instantly calms him down is genuinely so sweet.)

but it's always gonna come back down to 'daddy dearest'.

because of him, *billy is afraid of living*.

and--

his father. *is proud of him*.

billy is *just like him* or *everything he wanted to be* as a *man*, or at least is compelled to *project* this on the surface. and everything in *billy* that *is* his father, *just like him*, is *everything* that billy *hates*. so it manifests into an *intense* self loathing and spiraled addiction that magnifies the worst of what his father *forced* on him.

he *doesn't want* to be *his father*, but he feels, and fully believes that *he already is*. his self hatred is another form of *hating his father*, because *he is that man's legacy*.

so *billy* doesn't *believe* that he deserves love or goodness or care from other people (a parallel we see in homelander, presented a bit differently.) so he 'doesn't care'. makes excuses to not care (about people in general, if not just the very *prominent* antisocial tendencies), or leave, or push them away, lashing out to give *them* the excuse to leave him, because he is *afraid* and in his own mind, *unworthy*.

he's *afraid* of being loved, of *losing* that love, of *hurting* those he loves. he is *afraid* of being his own father.

but it's all he's ever known, all he's ever been *conditioned* to be. intoxicated, ever present, it's this terrible thing that destroys him but he *can't* stop. *addiction*.

and what better way to protect those he loves than to keep himself as *far* away from them as possible? than to *make* them hate him. than to do the *wrong* thing, to *disappoint* them. self sabotage. self punishment.

he can't stop himself. he deserves it.

lather, rinse, repeat.

so what does that mean for homelander, or even the reason he goes after homelander? the *real* reason.

'there must be *some* good in him because homelander 'must be' this 'ultimate evil that *must* be stopped', right?

not really. he's a symptom of a much greater evil, but he was never the root of it. if billy really wanted to solve the problems at hand and get *justice*, he'd go after *vought*, NOT homelander.

homelander is not even the real villain in *billy's* mind, in all actuality.

what homelander *is*?

temptation.

he is... the *ultimate* final high for billy. in terms of addiction to both *violence* and *self punishment*.

he doesn't actually go after homelander because he wants to 'stop him' or even kill him. not really. there are times billy starts a fight *expecting* to *lose*, *wanting* it. homelander *is* one of those times to the most intense degree that billy could find. and he even senses this when they first meet--unnecessarily, privately insulting the man because why?

because he feels *threatened*. because he feels *insecure*. because if homelander is *truly good*, even with *all that power*--

then billy has no fucking excuse--

it is, in essence, the same exact reaction that lex luthor has to superman. forcing himself to *challenge* him because of a *constant* sense of *fear*. (except lex *is* afraid of dying, so 1000% a huge coward lmao--)

but~, when he finds out homelander is *bad*?

homelander is billy's *failsafe*

to stop the person he feels is the most terrible evil of all *and* to set the world on fire in the process. a way for billy to kill two birds with one stone. compelled by his addiction to *chase* this ideation relentlessly.

homelander is to billy--his ultimate end, self punishment, a death wish, a *suicide attempt*.

and a way to *unleash his hatred onto the rest of the world*, *to make it burn*, even after his death. (this would be why despite many many MANY warnings to *not* push homelander *because of the catastrophe this will ultimately instigate and the loss of life this is bound to result in*--billy does not give a shit about the potential consequences. he welcomes them--)

if homelander were a *nuke*, billy would want to *launch* him. right now, homie is more like the *demon core*, incredibly dangerous and in some instances lethal, but not *yet* explosive.

billy *wants* the *warhead*.

it was why he got *so excited* at the *chance* of homelander offering him 'scorched earth'.

the man read billy like an open fucking book, and set the bait--

y'all, in other words, homie straight up went to billy's house and offered *crack* to the *crack addict*--fuck yeah he's gonna take that offer!

homelander never actually perceives billy as a real threat *at all* (safe to say, this is the main reason he doesn't kill him. there's a bit of personal complex combined with the deals/blackmail/request involved, but this would also be why he doesn't *hesitate* to 'kill' billy at herogasm. he genuinely gives no fucks about this poor man or his many anal complexes and daddy issues beyond the mild entertainment he gets from him and just how *easy* it is to read billy or rile him up. maybe a *dash* of novelty being found in billy's obsession with him. i'll go into the homie side of things in depth maybe someday soon lol but for now--)

and here's the thing, homelander isn't the *only* failsafe. he is simply the *ultimate failsafe*

included in all the possible bad habits billy has is pawning off his *responsibility* and personal accountability, even his *will to do good* onto others.

i mentioned before that becca (becky) was like a new addiction for him. and she was. in a sense, billy was using her to self medicate. she loved him, gave him love and made him feel good, no pain, no shame--but also no pause to think about that pain, self hatred and self doubt and actively address it. she was a way to not worry about his own *goodness* because she was an *easy* reason for him to *want* to be good.

and something important to note?

billy feels that he has *cheated* on becca/becky *since* the day she left/died. (there's a whole ass deliciously intricate story there but i'm trying to avoid the spoilers lmao. kind of a freebie hint i guess.)

lenny and hughie similarly make an effort to *hold butcher back* and reach out to him. (everyone does honestly, but not everyone is so successful with it). and butcher lets them, but *also* removes the agency of his own choice in the matter.

he doesn't just *let them* make him *good*, he doesn't believe he's capable of stopping himself on his own--but he believes in *them* because they *are* good, *truly good*.

hughie all on his own is *another kind of failsafe* and lo and behold, even calls butcher out on this by the end of the third season (theme is prevalent in the comic a lil different but again spoilers lol):

'i don't think you want to do this. i think you want me to stop you.'

*ding*ding*ding*!

nail on the head, hughie... butcher does not believe he can stop himself. so he sets up *failsafes* to do as much.

and let me just say, it is *unbelievably* shitty of him to do that, to pawn off the responsibility of his own behavior, whether good or pure evil onto other people. but i get it. and it fucking breaks my heart for him.

because *that* is addiction. it feels like mind control. aggressive compulsion. you feel ashamed, and hate yourself, and don't care if you hurt yourself or even others. but you keep *hoping*, *wishing*, *leaving a breadcrumb trail* so that *someone*, *anyone*, will come along and--

*save you. from you.*

and when you stop believing in yourself, in your own willpower to fight against this *thing* that just completely *destroys* you from the inside out... without *anyone* on your side, what else is left to do but to numb the pain?

i was able to recognize billy's addiction right off the bat because i've *been* to a lot of the places he has been. including the addiction. and he makes me so *fucking* mad because it's like seeing a version of myself *still stuck*, *still lost*, *still trapped* by my own issues and self loathing, and all of the abuse i've gone through--

and the biggest fuck up, the biggest *abuser* is me.

i can't *escape* me. *no one* can escape *themself*.

that fucker breaks my heart to pieces because *i have been there*, and i know just how fucking hard it is to *be* there, just how much harder it is to *get out* and start to *learn*--*who is it you really wanna be? who are you without this drug?*

and something he even says in the comics on a few occasions is--

'i'm not really here, i'm somewhere else watching this happen'

asserting that he *truly* believes that he has *no control* over *what* he is. (in contrast with homelander, who feels the weight of something similar but more literally in some regard, and in relation to so many other aspects in his life with the world around him.)

billy butcher *is* the *true villain* of *his own story*

of his own making.

he's not after homelander or even vought. he doesn't blame society or even his father at this point. he blames himself. and he's *given up* entirely on fighting himself. he's looking for his *overdose*.

*that's homelander*

ain't that a kick in the head...

it's part of what makes their relationship and dynamic so incredibly electric and titillating. it's got nothing to do with becca or becky.

butcher sees homelander as an easy way out. as a way to control the narrative, *maintain his own*, and *stop the bad guy* without bringing someone *good*, like *hughie*, down to his level.

he *sees* the parallels, a kindred spirit. he *knows* the potential. and he wants to be the *spark* to light all that *gasoline*.

because then it won't be his fault anymore. his *guilt*. he'll have passed on his *curse*.

likewise, he actually goes after supes in general for a similar enough reason, and it ties in with why he *doesn't* go after vought directly.

billy actually *likes* the status quo. to a degree, *needs* it, *needs vought*

because *vought* is the *creator* of his *supply*, feeding this addiction. and we hear billy say this in both the comic and show--

'with great power comes the absolute certainty that you'll turn into a right cunt.'

and billy actually believes this--about himself.

when he says it about other supes and even his intense hatred of them, it is a *projection* of his own issues and what he believes to be true for himself (that he would do the absolute worst thing imaginable given the opportunity). and in a way, going after them is in some ways a metaphor for stopping and destroying himself, hating himself, as much as it is a way to maintain his addiction.

and--

maintain the narrative he has built--that he is the true villain.

and if that's the case, well... it takes a *hero* to stop a *villain*, right?

but also--y'all remember that scene in the suicide squad where polkadot man imagines everyone as his mum? how he imagines starro as his mum?

yeah, that.

that's basically billy. every fucking supe, including starlight, and kimiko, and let's *really* not talk about what this means about him sleeping with maeve in context with his 'supe=daddy' issues, but even the person he sees in the mirror. *all of them* are *his father*.

listen, i'm not kidding. billy's daddy issues are seriously severe, so fucking bad, i--

his actions aren't for becca or becky or ryan or justice. even he *knows* that's bullshit and admits as much (which just makes fandom denying it that much more fucked). but they're not even *just because* or because he's genocidal, antisocial, or anything else. he *does* want someone to stop him. he's sane enough to recognize his actions for what they truly are *behind* the mask.

billy's actions are a volatile and violent *cry for help*, because he never learned how to *ask*, or even how to *believe in himself*.

he never truly learned that *he never had to be his father*, and he didn't *need* becky or becca, lenny or hughie to *be good*.

i actually think billy's greatest magic trick is convincing even the audience and readers that he is a *total*, complete piece of shit. and don't get me wrong, he is *def* a huge, massive, incredibly rank and ripe piece of shit--.

and y'all, i'm sorry if you believed him and got played like a damn fiddle, him and homie def throwin' in some hard balls--

but he's also still human. he also still needs just as much if, honestly? maybe even more, fucking *help* than homelander. which kind of draws back into their parallels. the tomfoolery of fandom might have you believe that billy is less complex or more put together than homelander, but their situations go hand in hand and the evidence suggests (if not confirms) something quite different.

billy's plight and even goal in some sense is *convincing the rest of his world that he is a monster*. driven by the addiction his father gave him. enabled by the world around him.

homelander's? it's actually the complete opposite. his struggle is with *his world convincing him that he is a monster*, and in turn, against his own instincts, *growing* into that role. when in reality, he never got the chance to decide for himself, it was decided *for* him a long long time ago.

'i think, therefore i am.'

'i can, therefore i must.'

however, *our actions cannot define who we are, because we can choose our actions*. good or bad are not something you inherently *are*, they are something you *choose to do*.

it paints what in turn becomes quite the brutal and tragic picture when these two forces meet. homelander and billy are both of the mindset that they *don't have a choice*.

and this bit is a bit more of a personal thought, but regarding billy's mum, she was *becky*. she was sweet, and kind, and cared for her family more than anything. *it didn't matter what she suffered, she was willing to drown if it meant saving the people she loved*.

as much as i adore how cute becca and billy were, i don't think she would have saved him.

i think the implication is that she would have either 'drowned' trying and become his mum, history repeating itself in a vicious cycle as billy spread his disease to any child they could have.

or that she would have lost her mind. and in turn *become* the person billy spread his disease to, if not another enabler for him. if not billy's choice of drug, maybe she would have taken up something else and eventually overdosed. i would even say the show implies this outcome with both becca and hughie, as the more butcher pushes--the more worn down they get.

if you put enough pressure on someone--they break.

becca was *good* for him. but billy was so, so fucking *bad* for her.

it begs the question of whether or not billy *is* right, if he really is this monster, *fated* to become his father in the worse of ways. of whether or not it's too late for him.

he's certainly not 'normal' or 'right' or 'good' or even an 'anti-hero'. at best, you could maybe call him an 'anti-villain', he is meant to be the deuterantagonist.

it def doesn't help that every time he has the *chance* to do the right thing, *someone* goes and enables him, gives him a reason to do the *wrong* thing.

fucking maeve in that last episode of the third season. but she's def not the only one, and def not the only time. (and yes, if it wasn't clear enough, being completely fucking indifferent to killing *thousands* of people to go after *one* fucking guy is in fact, the *wrong* thing to do.)

butt.

rewatching the scenes with lenny and billy's reaction, and even the final fight, showed something of a *possible* silver lining.

billy *enjoys* rejecting his father. actually pretty fucking greatly if we're being honest. generally speaking, it's when he *rejects* his father and everything that man represents that billy is at his *happiest* (lmao the epitome of an unfulfilled submissive sweetheart and bratty bossy bottom~<3<3<3)

there's a moment, where soldier boy says something along the lines of--

'--fuck you. you're weaker than he is.'

in regards to homelander. it's sort of glossed over, but this is billy's reaction to essentially being called a 'disgrace' so to speak by a toxic 'alpha male'.

y'all see that? it's a smile. lmao a smirk.

this is a moment where billy is protecting *ryan* and keeping his promise to becca. it's a moment where billy is *doing the right thing*, all on *his own* (mostly lol i'm sure there's a roundabout way to justify it in his head). and i think that's key.

it's not just a moment he's proud of himself and has a legitimate fucking reason to be proud of himself, (oh btw, we shoulda *all* been proud of billy in this moment), it's a moment he's *breaking through what his father made him* and his own *addiction*.

and he's doing it *selflessly* and--*without setting that responsibility on another person*.

so we *know* he has it in him, he always has. even becky *in the comic* kept trying to convince billy that *he is capable of good without her*. and again, we actually saw this in the second season when becca and ryan were reunited and billy *changed* his plans, *for becca*, instead of doing the selfish thing and selling ryan back to vought.

but if billy doesn't believe it himself...

i don't think billy is right about himself. but it is very *very* difficult for someone to *correct course* so to speak, once they have their *core beliefs*, lay out their own destiny and start along a *self fulfilling prophecy*, something him and homelander *both* do.

enter ryan.

and suddenly (lol probably in part due to reading dear becky lol), there was a bit of... not so much new, as *confirmed* perspective in play after that rewatch, something to *look* for and ponder in regards to *why* ryan may have been added for this story, a question in mind--

'would it be wrong of *ryan* to want to save his father?'

was it wrong of becca or becky, hughie or lenny, even his mum, to want to save billy?

how would *billy* even begin to answer such questions?

a different answer for the two would be a clear hypocritical bias (which lol i would not put past billy, but i also wouldn't be surprised if he maintained consistent thinking by answering *yes* to both)

. . .

y'all...

i still can't say i'm particularly optimistic about things turning out alright for either gent or ryan, butt~<3

garth ennis literally made the saddest, most pathetic, deliciously sweet, perfectly precious, extra emo tsun tsun baby boi ever, and put him right under our noses.

some a y'all fucking sneezing all over him, straight up sleepin' on all his *best* bits. how are we not utilizing billy butcher *properly~<3<3<3*????

;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

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bottlecaprabbitgames · 1 year

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Weekly Update for 27 March, 2023

Howdy, folks! Welcome to the last update of March! Time really has flown, jesus-

Mind Games: Trepidation

Onto our favorite subject! If you guys haven't seen, there have been multiple edits pushed for mostly Chapter 1 and 2 this week! These edits have added new options to some dialogue choices, some customisation choices, and some variation to certain spots where I saw I favored sarcastic MCs over others. There have been a couple of grammar fixes pushed in Chapter 3, 4, and 5, but I have not done a more thorough editing of those chapters; after putting in some achievements, my brain kinda just. Flat-lined and needed a break, lol!

I have gotten LOADS done on Chapter 6! I am actually in Scene 3/4 for the rough draft, with about half of Scene 3's rough draft completed. Again, the rough draft is just me going through and picking one option for each branch and getting through the story so I know where it'll go when I go back to flesh it out! However, that's still a LOT of progress!!! The whole chapter is at about 5,600 words, and before doing the update I had started editing Scene 1 for a bit to start fleshing out so it's not so much work later.

A few things with MG:T:

In case you aren't aware, MG:T is only expected to be 9 Chapters, NOT including Interludes and the Epilogue. We are over 50% done with the game! VERY EXCITING!!! (Especially as I am ITCHING to get to book 2, lol!)

Chapter 6 is expected to be out in April. I will be releasing it in full as I'm expecting it to be a small to average size chapter.

I am always open to feedback and suggestions! Honestly, I would REALLY LOVE for you folks to tell me where you think improvements could be made or where you'd like to see more choices/what kind of choices you want to see more of. Be the change you want to see, lol!!

Remember: Every time an update is pushed, your saves will be corrupted! I try to push things all at once, but I never know how much I'll get done at any one time so sometimes I push smaller updates over a course of a day. If you aren't seeing anything new, it might be because your save is before the update was pushed!

I am still checking this Google Form! I am considering making one that is all about feedback and suggestions, and I DO check the one that's listed there daily! I actually have an active list of suggestions and stuff people have given me, and I do try to take the stuff you guys tell me needs fixing and put those fixes into the game!! Those of you who have answered the feedback section have been amazingly helpful and I appreciate it so much!!!

In case you missed it, I do have a page up now that has a list of all the free scenarios I've posted in the past and present, at least, the ones I could find! It also has a list of sneak peeks from Patreon I've posted! Some of them are a bit outdated as they're from, like, when I first started writing the game back in 2018-2019, but they're still enjoyable!

There is a poll up on Patreon right now that ends in 2 weeks! It's letting Patrons vote for which RO(s) will 100% be featured in April's scenarios for Patreon, and as a special treat, one of the 2 chosen ROs will be available to the lower tier as well! And, the lower tier can always vote in polls. The tier prices are $3 and $10, with $3 opening up polls, a sneak peek, discord benefits, weekly update+ content, and credits mentions (I will be putting every Patron I've had in the past in the credits of the game(s) they were supporting me during development!), with occasional monthly bonuses. The $10 tier opens up EVERYTHING I have, and everything that gets posted monthly!

I think that's all I got to tell y'all this week! See you at the next update! (Where I can hopefully confirm being done with at least one of the scenes in Chapter 6, hehe.)

#weekly update #mind games: trepidation #mind games #interactive fiction #if #interactivefiction

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love-fireflysong · 3 years

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yIt's done. It took me waaaay to long to write this piece out but between June and my computer apparently deciding to kick me in the teeth this month, the fact I made it to 5 full squares completed anyways I will gladly take as a victory! And, just fyi, this WILL be the last piece for this month. I know that there is still another four days left of June, but I am sick and tired of dealing with my keyboard so this is the last fic you're gonna see from me until I get a new laptop hopefully fairly soon. (Unless I decide that I'm desperate enough to try and write things out on my tablet of course...)

Anyways, the First Date trope was specifically requested by @jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake when I let her know that the one she did guess (road trip) was going to be a second chapter of a twoshot. Which you still might get because I'm very likely going to be sharing the short little summary blurbs I had written down for each trope so people can very easily bully me into writing them anyways if people still wanted to read them. And even though it would be like months and months late, still post them under this bingo board because I can and I had a cool idea for what I was doing with the colours and layout before life decided to say 'NO!' in a very firm voice. (Unless of course the three lovely ladies that came up with this idea in the first place say no obviously)

Rambling over though now I promise. Chocolate Covered Confessions can be read over and AO3 of course, with the full fic also under the readmore as well.

Chocolate Covered Confessions

Trope: First Date Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 8214 Rating: General (though reader beware there is some almost scandalous hand holding and a couple of scandalously public kisses. You have been warned...) Authors Notes: Oh look, more chrashley fluff. Who da thunk it? Pride month? What pride month? This is just me apparently figuring out how many different ways I can get Chris and Ash to confess their feelings. Because you only read like three of them, I still have another two waiting in the wings. Plus at least three others if you count climbing chrash lol.

Something was...weird. It wasn't something that Ashley could put her finger on just yet, but something was definitely off that was for sure. The problem of course was that she didn't even know where to start looking in the first place, because for the most part her day had been extraordinarily ordinary.

She, Chris, and Josh had planned to go and see a movie Saturday morning a few days back and then hang out the rest of the day. But seeing as they were, you know, best friends that certainly wasn't the issue. Not even close. They always made plans to do stuff like that together. And yeah, okay, so maybe Josh had 'coincidentally' texted them just before the movie started to let them know that something unavoidable had come up and he wasn't going to be able to meet up with them. And when her and Chris had brought up just waiting until a later showing when he was free, he had immediately been quick to affirm that nope, he was going to be busy the whole rest of the day actually. So the two of them could continue with their original plans and they could make it up to him another time.

While certainly suspicious, that wasn't what was wrong though. Josh had been flaking out on their plans more and more, especially when it was plans that took up an entire day. Ashley Brown wasn't stupid. No siree Bob she was not! She knew exactly what Josh was trying to do by leaving her to spend the day with Chris. Alone . And she appreciated it (she really did!), but if Chris was going to make a move then he would have done it ages and ages ago, because she sure as hell wasn't going to do it! Ashley Brown wasn't stupid, but she also wasn't exactly what you would call brave either.

Not that Chris had seemed to notice what Josh was pulling though, he had just sighed and rolled his eyes with a grumbled "fucking typical", and then the two of them had entered the theater to watch the movie. And as per their usual shtick when Josh wasn't there with them, Chris paid for the tickets while she paid for the food and drinks. Or, at least, that was how it normally went. Instead, when she had decided to take a run to the bathroom while he held their spot in the long concession line, she had come back to Chris waiting for her with the pop and popcorn already in hand. After brushing off her flustered apologies, he had explained that shortly after she had left, another cashier had popped on till so the line had gone down in half the time either had expected. And it seemed like a dick move to just wait there until she came back so he had just decided to get the food instead.

She still felt a little guilty about it honestly, even after swearing that she would get both the tickets and food next time.

And, to be completely fair to Josh, he hadn't exactly been missing out on a lot by skipping out on the movie. It wasn't a horror flick (he would never even think of skipping out on that after all) so it wasn't one that he would feel the need to make the two of them watch again with him. Which was more than fine honestly, because if she was to describe the movie in a single word, well, that word would definitely have been 'dreadful'. If she was given a few more words, then she would have easily elaborated and stated that it was 'a boring, plot-hole driven mess, with only extremely over-the-top action scenes and explosions every five minutes to carry any semblance of the extremely loosely written plot'. In other words, she had lost interest in the movie barely half an hour in, and considering that Chris had started scrolling through his phone bored, she wasn't alone in this boat either.

Still, Ashley had resolved herself to sit through this over-budgeted explosion fest if only because movie tickets were horribly expensive. Not to mention the fact that Chris had shelled out money for both the movie and the food. But then he had turned to her, asked if she was as bored to tears as he was, and once he got that confirmation, asked if she wanted to just ditch the movie entirely. And she did—she really, really did—but didn't want Chris to waste the money he had spent more. And then yet another explosion...exploded on screen, and she realized that she was wasting precious hours of her life that could be used to do something more fun and less mind-numbingly boring.

Like watching paint dry. That at least had a semi-cohesive plot.

And so the two of them had walked out, continuing to share the extra buttered popcorn between them (the movie may have been awful, but the popcorn certainly wasn't) as they left the movie theater behind and wandered into the nearby mall. That wasn't the strange thing either. The mall and subsequent window shopping had absolutely been part of their day plans after, even if those had been unexpectedly pushed forward a couple of hours.

Admittedly the art show that the mall was running in one of the empty storefronts was unexpected, but it had been simply a nice surprise and a great way to kill time. So after paying the $2 entrance fee, the two of them had continued to share the popcorn as they looked at some of the paintings and sculptures that had been on display, giggling childishly at most of them. And okay, so one of the curators had been glaring at them( or rather, at their greasy, butter-covered fingers) the whole time, but that had just been a little rude and insulting. Not strange. And that had stopped almost the moment they had run out of popcorn, Ashley nudging him in the stomach with her elbow as she licked her fingers clean, and the two of them laughing under their breaths at the curator who had looked exceptionally much more at ease once Chris had crumpled the empty bag into a ball.

The rest of their day in the mall had just been spent following the rest of their day's plan, wandering from shop to shop and browsing at all the things that caught their eyes, and then taking a break after a few hours to have a late lunch in the food court. The two of them checked out another couple of stores, these ones to try and get some ideas for Josh's birthday in another month, before moving onto the small arcade on the top floor. As part of their deal and agreement since it had just been Josh and Chris (Ashey not joining the duo until five years later), Chris bought the tokens needed while she scouted out the various games for an empty console and claimed it until he could join her in another couple of minutes.

They spent the next hour in there, trying to beat each other or work together depending on the game in question. They almost never played a game twice before moving onto the next one, in hopes to both try as many games as possible before their self imposed hour ended and to see if they could beat their previous high scores or make it onto the leaderboard in only a single try. But as the hour came to a close, they both made their way over to their final game: one of the racing simulators scattered around the arcade. And as had been done for ten years now, played to determine which of them would be paying for the tokens next time they came.

And once the race ended, with Ashley winning by photo finish for the third time in a row (and celebrating her winning streak by maturely sticking out her tongue and doing an awkward little shimmy dance in the seat while Chris jokingly sulked and pouted), they had finally left the mall altogether and got into Chris's truck. There, he had surprised Ashley with the novel she had been eyeing in the bookstore (or at least, eyeing closer than all the rest she had picked up) and that he had somehow been able to buy without her noticing. And that certainly hadn't been weird, because it had been so exceptionally sweet of him, sweet enough that Ashley had so badly wished that she could thank him properly. But as mentioned before, Ashley Brown was a coward pure and simple, so she had just clutched the book to her chest and beamed at Chris in heartfelt thanks instead.

He may have said something in reply, but Ashley had already settled into the passenger seat and opened to the first page of the book, so she was already long gone. A fact that Chris had anticipated, if the light chuckle he had let out before starting the truck meant anything. And no, Ashley reading a book while Chris drove them to their usual game store across town was not the strange thing either. If Chris hadn't wanted her to read on the drive over and talk to him, then he never would have given her the book now of all times. He would have waited until he had dropped her off home, or not even bought the book in the first place. After over a half a decade of friendship, if anyone knew what would happen after giving Ashley Brown a new book, it was Chris Hartley.

The drive over is done quicker then she had expected, and even then Chris still hadn't let her know that they had arrived until she had finished her chapter. Yes he had certainly teased her about it the entire time, joking about how she would never find someone as understanding of her reading habits then him (he didn't know how right he was, that she didn't want to find anyone else), but the fact that he had just continued to let the music play in the truck and distracted himself on his phone was so unbearably sweet that she decided to let it lie.

The fact that Ashley and Chris hung around in the game shop comparing dice and looking at new books while wincing over the prices for nearly two hours wasn't what was off either. Hell, if anything the fact that they only spent a couple of hours there before leaving was weird! Her, Chris, and Josh could easily spend almost half a day in there flipping through comics and rolling dice to test them out, only leaving because a tired employee was forced to ask them to leave for making too much noise and taking up a table when they weren't playing anything, especially when there was a group that had been waiting for a table for close to an hour now.

Which brought Ashley to where she was right now, sitting at a sticky plastic table under the shade of a cheap umbrella while Chris had run off to get them some ice cream before dropping her off at home. Her new book was open in front of her, the pages crisp white even in the umbrella's shade, but her mind wasn't on the book anymore. A random line had a character mentioning that something had been feeling off all day ever since they woke up ('like everything had been moved three centimeters to the left, so while it all looked normal, nothing felt right anymore'), and Ashley had also realized that hey, wait a second, her day was also feeling just a little wonky too! But no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. Today had just been a normal day hanging out with Chris after all. They went to see (and bailed) a movie, spent hours hanging out in the mall and at the game store, and now they were each going back home. Nothing unusual had happened, so why did it feel like something hugely monumental had been going on all day?

"Oi. Earth to Ash, you okay in there?"

A light flick to the center of Ashley's forehead has her blink in surprise, and she finds herself back into the present once again. Chris is standing next to her, carefully balancing the two cones in his right hand and his left ready to flick again if needed, and a bemused smile on his face.

"Oh, uh, sorry Chris. Got a little too into the book I think." She closes the book, not wanting to get melting ice cream all over its crisp white pages (and she really hasn't absorbed a single word for nearly ten minutes now), but Chris doesn't hand her the cone just yet.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that," Chris says as he snorts in disbelief. "I know your 'praise be to books' look, and that was not it. That was your 'head full, too many thoughts' look."

"Excuse me? What? I do not have a reading look! Or a thinking look for that matter!"

"Oh you do. You really, really do. Trust me. You may have been staring at that book but there was no way that you were reading, I would bet my own ice cream here on it." Chris brandishes his double chocolate cone at her, then seems to reconsider and switches to show off her own dipped soft serve that he still has yet to actually let her eat. "Actually, you know what? I would eat your dipped monstrosity if I'm wrong."

Ashley sighs, but she can't keep the smile from her face. "It's not that bad this time, oh my god. It's chocolate ice cream dipped in blueberry syrup. This is actually a normal combination for people who go out of their way to order more exciting cones then two scoops of chocolate." She leans forward and places her elbows on the table to support her head in her hands. "But I wanna see you do it anyway, so tell me exactly why you're so convinced that I wasn't reading."

Chris opens his mouth, but immediately closes it a second later, as though he didn't realize exactly what he had signed himself up for here until now. Ashley of course takes it as a sign of victory. "I knew it. So let's see this Chris, I wanna see you eat something that isn't—"

"When you read you get, like, super attentive." Chris's face is pink, and not looking at her but at the book on the table as he bashfully continues. "You become so drawn in to whatever you're reading that you ignore everything going on around you, because all of your attention is now on that book. Pretty sure a bomb could go off right next to you and you wouldn't even notice sometimes. And it's always so easy to tell what's happening in the book when you're reading too, cause your face is always so expressive. Like your eyes get big when something exciting or surprising happens, and when you're really enjoying whatever it is you're reading, you start giggling like a loon."

Ashley is too stunned and, quite frankly, her heart is beating too fast for her to even think of a proper response to that . She manages to squeak out a quiet little "oh, um" but Chris doesn't notice. Not when he's still babbling and not looking at her at all.

"But when you get deep in thought, you're not like that at all. All of your attention goes inward, and everything around you disappears cause all the important stuff is going on inside your head right now. Your mouth falls open just a little, sort of like you're gaping at all the information in front of you. And-and sometimes you'll mouth out what's going on inside your head as you try to fit the pieces of everything together so it's neat and tidy like a puzzle. And even though you have the, like, blankest stare imaginable, it's not empty at all if that makes any sense. Cause your eyes narrow and your forehead scrunches just the tiniest amount so you have a small little wrinkle form like right here—" with his unoccupied hand Chris points at the bridge of his nose right between his eyes "—and it's weirdly, insanely cute? But when you finally figure out the puzzle in your head, your face lights up like a kid on christmas morning and...and..." He lets his words trail off and stops awkwardly there, as though finally realizing exactly what he's been saying this entire time.

His face is almost beet red now, and Ashley is pretty sure hers is too. "Oh, uh, wow. I-I didn't realize you paid any attention to me when I was like that..."

Somehow his face only gets redder, and though he mumbles the words under his breath, Ashley can still make them out. "I'm always paying attention to you."

But not close enough attention it seems, she thinks sadly. If you did then you would have noticed something way more obvious than that. But she doesn't want to embarrass him anymore than he already is (then she already is), and she isn't sure what else she could possibly say that wouldn't be her blurting out that she likes him, so instead she pretends that she hadn't heard a single thing and wordlessly accepts the ice cream that he hands to her, accepting her defeat as she takes a small bite of the blueberry covered chocolate soft serve.

...The blueberry covered chocolate soft serve that he had bought for her. Or, you know, the ice cream he had paid for himself. Just like he had paid for everything today. Kind of like it was almost a, uh, date. Like he had taken her on a date.

Oh .

"Oh boy, let me guess: I was right and your ice cream really is a crime against taste buds?"

Ashley comes crashing back down to reality to see Chris, his face still a little red but the playful smile back on his face as he teased her. And yet, that only makes it worse as she can't help but feel the usual gymnastics routine the butterflies in her stomach perform at that particular smile, only they're a thousand times worse now that's she's realized exactly why today had felt so strange. And she can't help thinking how much everyone else would classify what was just a day hanging out with her best friend as a date. And how much she really, really wished it was one.

"Nope," she unfortunately squeaks out, and clears her throat so she can continue in a more normal tone of voice. "Nope, sorry to disappoint Chris, but the ice cream tastes fine." She takes another bite for proof (and to her credit she's not lying, it tastes more than fine). "Just, uh, realized something funny that's all." And the moment the words leave her mouth she realizes just how badly she's screwed everything up, because there is no way in any world that Chris Hartley is just going to let that comment lie.

"Funny? Oho, well now I'm interested. You mind sharing your glorious epiphany with the rest of the class Miss Brown?"

Taking another small taste of her ice cream, Ashley averts her gaze as she gives what she is kicking herself for is obviously an extremely forced laugh. "Did I say funny? I meant boring, just super boring actually."

"Well now I just want to hear it more."

"No, you don't. Trust me, you really, really don't."

Chris's brows furrow in concern. "Ash? You okay?"

She isn't, of course she isn't. She's now realized exactly what a date with Chris would be like, and it would be exactly like this. With them going to all the same place and doing the same things but she's allowed to hold his hand and kiss him when he does stupid sweet things like buying her the book she's been eyeing and talking about all day. She's never wanted something to be so true so badly in her life. And it's likely this thought in her mind that causes her to blurt out "A date." before she even realizes what she's said.

That only makes the confusion on Chris's face go deeper, which is appropriate considering she's sinking deeper and deeper into her chair in a futile effort to hide or escape as well. "What? Are you saying that you just remember what date it is today? Or that you had something you were supposed to do today instead? I'm not really following you right now Ash..."

This is perfect. It's the perfect excuse, she could laugh and say that she totally forgot what day it was and that she had an essay due pretty soon, or that she was supposed to babysit for a neighbour tonight. Anything really, the sky was quite literally the limit. And instead she just bit her lip and stared at the ice cream melting in her hand before weakly admitting "No, a, uh, date. As in, the romantic kind. I realized that today probably looks like a date to anyone else. Funny, huh?"

She's not sure how Chris would react to that. Maybe a startled laugh, and hand wave as he brushes her off. A scoff as he assures her that this definitely isn't a date, cause they're just friends and that's all they'll ever be. Whatever the reaction she expected, it was certainly not the fumbling for his ice cream as he nearly drops it in his shock, and how absolutely flustered he sounds as he trips over his own tongue. "W-what? I-I-I, uh—I mean, th-this obviously isn't—Who would even—? Wh-what would even give you the idea that we could um, possibly be on a date?"

Ashley shrugs weakly. "Isn't it obvious Chris?" She ignores his even more flustered babbling that no, he absolutely did not see what was so obvious as she continued on, still too nervous to look him in the eyes. "You've kind of paid for everything today."

"I wha—? I mean, no I haven't!"

"You kind of have, Chris. The theater?"

"You know I always pay for the tickets, and it would have just been really rude to make the line even longer!"

"The art show?"

"It was just a couple of toonies! And you saw the face of the worker there, they would have kicked us right out if they'd had to break a twenty. It was just easier."

"Lunch?"

"They-they'd had a special on for a two-person meal at that stall in the food court, and they wouldn't let each of us pay half..." he neglected to point out that Ashley could have easily paid for their lunch, and probably should have, but before she had been able to offer he'd already been swiping his debit card.

"The arcade?"

"Okay, that was my turn to buy the tokens, you know that. That one doesn't even count."

Ashley lifted her eyes from the ice cream to the book that sat menacingly and innocently all at one at the center of the table, it's pristine cover mocking her. "The book?"

"T-that was just a gift! You seemed really into it at the store and friends buy each other gifts all the time—"

There was no describing how soft and nervous her voice got as she asked the question that would put the final nail in the coffin. "The ice cream?"

"I, uh, it was just—um..." Chris let out a breath in a weak chuckle. "Shit, I guess I kind of did, huh?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, and neither does Chris, as the table goes silent. She's bracing herself for when Chris inevitably shoots her down and confirms that it doesn't matter. That the two of them will never be anything more then friends and that she never should have hoped for anything more and by revealing this she's ruined their friendship for good—

"Hey, uh, Ash?" He sounds so nervous that it immediately takes Ashley out of her anxiety driven thoughts of doom and gloom, but she can't do anything more than just shakily nod to let him continue. "It's, uh, probably like a really, really, really stupid question but—" he takes a nervous breath "—did you want this to be a date?"

Her head immediately shoots up as she stares at him with wide eyes, her breath caught somewhere in her throat where her heart is currently lodged. She frantically rakes her eyes over Chris's face looking for any hint that he's mocking her, or playing some cruel joke on her and her feelings, but all she sees is just nervousness all over a pale, shaking face with what she thinks ( prays ) is a glimmer of undisguised hope. But it's still too much uncertainty, and she's too scared to risk it all on a mere glimmer that she is likely only imagining because she wants it so badly to be real, so she throws the question back at him instead.

"...would you have been opposed if this was actually a date?"

"Nuh uh, I asked you first."

Ashley realizes that he's just as scared at what the answer might be as she is. She wants to tell him, has wanted to tell him for years and years and years. And maybe this is the chance she's been waiting for her whole life. The two of them sitting at a sticky plastic table under the early evening sun, long forgotten ice cream melting in their hands, and she can finally tell him that she's had such a huge crush on him since she was twelve.

"Yeah." The word is less choked out than it is released. Like it's a breath of fresh air and she feels simultaneously lighter and heavier for it. "I-I think I would have liked that. I would have liked that alot."

Chris snaps his gaze up to meet hers, and the glimmer of hope that she had seen earlier has now nearly taken over his face at the disbelieving smile that's threatening to crack his face in two. "Really? I-I mean, uh, I would have been alright with the idea too. More than alright actually."

She can feel her own smile start to nervously match his, and then the first giggle breaks out. His own ecstatic laughter quickly follows her own until the two of them are both giddily laughing at the table, but too embarrassed and bashful to even look at each other now. The giggling abruptly cuts off when Chris lets out a yelp of surprise when he realizes how much of his ice cream has melted onto his hand and Ashley joins him in trying to finish off their ice cream before it's melted entirely. But there's definitely a change in the atmosphere around them now. The contentness and laid back ease that always formed between them whenever they hung out was still there, but there is a charge that hadn't been there before either. An excited anticipation that only surges higher and higher whenever Ashley shyly glances in Chris's direction to find he's looking at her with the same disbelieving smile beaming on his face.

They never say anything more about it as they both finish off the ice cream, but Ashley knows. With that little agreement, the entire day had changed. This wasn't just them hanging out as friends anymore, this was an actual, factual date now, pure and simple. So when Chris hands her a couple of extra napkins to clean herself off, she may have let her fingers brush against his for just a moment. The resulting blush and dumbstruck smile on his face when he cautiously took his hand back so he could clean up the rest of the mess on the table was oh so worth it. And when he returned from his trip to the garbage can and held out his hand as an offer to help her up from the chair, she accepted it readily.

Once she's back on her feet, the two of them drop their eyes to stare at their still clasped hands, realizing that they could easily hold hands the entire short walk back to Chris's truck if they wanted. And she does want that—horribly in fact—but it seems it's still a little too early for either of them to make that teeny tiny but monumental jump to hand holding so they let go awkwardly and slowly, letting their fingers linger against the others before letting go completely. As though giving themselves a taste of what may yet actually come to pass in the (hopefully) very near future.

The short walk back to the truck is filled with both anticipation and dread alike, but unusually silent. Ashley knows it's because she's now a buzzing ball of nervous energy, terrified that saying anything at all will shatter this dream that's apparently coming true before her eyes, but Chris is different. He looks more like he's trying to work up the courage to say or ask something, and is spending all his energy on that alone. So when he reaches out to open up the passenger side door for her, Ashley can feel her heart pick up speed when he stops with his hand on the door handle and looks at her nervously. His mouth opens and shuts a couple of times as he tries to work up the courage to say whatever it is he wants to say, and all she can do is stare at him expectantly as she struggles to hold back an excited smile.

"Hey, Ash, ca—nevermind. It's, it's stupid. Don't worry about it." A second later, he has the door opened for her and the moment she can't see his face, she lets her smile fall crestfallen. But only for a second before a polite one replaces it as thanks when he closes the door for her and continues to his side of the truck. It's fine, she supposes as she buckles herself in, while the two of them have been hanging out all day, it's only been an actual date now for barely ten minutes. And once he drops her off home in just another few short minutes it's going to be over. The fact that she even managed to get this far is franky mind blowing, so expecting anything more from her dreams would just be extremely selfish. She can't have everything she wants all at once, no matter how long she's been waiting for it.

The drive back to her place is also quiet, filled with only the droning of the radio playing in the background. Ashley's returned back to her book, but she knows that Chris knows that she's not absorbing a single word, hasn't turned a single page even. She keeps glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as he nervously taps at the steering wheel, and then tightening his grasp when it looks like he's going to say something, only to return to the nervous tapping when he inevitably backs out at the last second and returns to the frantic pep talk he's likely giving himself. The air that fills the vehicle is heavy and thick with anticipation and it's taking almost everything in Ashley to not start shaking the question out of Chris at every red light they stop at.

But, eventually, they pull up in front of her place and Chris stops the truck. There's a moment where the two of them just sit there, not wanting to leave because leaving means the end, and Ashley schools her face into a cheery smile in an effort to hide as much of the disappointment as she can when she turns to face him and bid him farewell, only to have it fall to confusion when he starts fumbling at his own seatbelt.

"Chris? What are you doing?"

He struggles further at it, frustrated that the buckle's apparently decided that now is the perfect time for it to stick once again. "Trying to get this fucking thing off."

"Yeah, I figured that much. But why are you trying to take it off, you're just gonna leave right away again anyway."

He slows his fumbling as cheeks start darkening in embarrassment. "I, uh, I just thought that was something you were supposed to do after a date, walk them to their door to stay goodnight. I mean, at least I think this is a date now? And, and only if you're okay with it! I can stay in here instead if you don't want me to. I was just hoping..."

The once forced cheery smile on her face is certainly not being forced any longer, if anything she's trying not to show how much the idea of Chris walking her to her door thrills her. "N-no!" Well, so much for trying not to show how desperately she wants that. The startled look he gives her at the unexpected outburst had her trying to control her voice into something less desperate, but considering she doesn't think she's ever going tame the frantic butterflies that have been flapping around non-stop in her stomach ever since the ice cream realization, she's probably doing a terrible job of it. "I-I mean if you want to, it's completely up to you after all..."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Just, just give me a second." He continues to struggle with his seatbelt buckle, letting out more and more agitated curses escape the longer the thing continues to stick, and Ashley is getting the feeling that if he was able, Chris would have ripped the entire thing straight out of the seat by now. Broken safety laws and ensuing repair costs be damned. The moment he finally manages to unstick the traitorous buckle it's with a cry of victory and relief so exuberant that Ashley finds herself laughing in disbelief and awe that he had wanted to walk her the short ten or so feet to her front door that badly. Thankfully, for both of them, her seatbelt unclicks easily and much more quickly in comparison, only taking another couple of seconds to grab her bag from the footwell and joining him.

The far too short walk up to her door is over before either of them realize it. One second the two of them had been standing awkwardly and nervously by the truck as she fought the urge to reach out and grab his hand, and the next they're standing just as awkwardly and nervously (if not moreso) in front of the front door. Both of them waiting for the other to say or do something to break the tension, but cleanly aware that doing so would signal the very final end of the day, and the date. In fact, just knowing that Chris doesn't want this to end just as badly as her, is what gives her the courage to look at him with a surprisingly heartfelt and soft smile.

"Today was fun."

Chris lifts his eyes from where they had been staring at the dried leaves on the doorstep to match her smile. "Yeah. It was."

"And thanks. For the movie, and everything else." Ashley raises her hand to give the new and still shiny paperback a small wave. "And, you know, the book too. Of course."

"Yeah, it was no problem. Anytime." There's something with how he says the last bit—not really emphasizing it but making it clear all the same that he means 'anytime'—that causes her face to flush giddily as she pulls her lower lip in between her teeth in a weak effort to fight back against the ecstatic smile that forms anyway. And when she sees his eyes lower just a smidge to follow the motion and the way his shoulders stiffen in reaction, Ashley very quickly also finds she's trying (much more successfully) to hold herself back from just saying 'to hell with it' and throwing her arms around Chris so she can finally kiss him silly and until they're both breathless. But considering that she's too much of a coward to initiate something as innocent as hand holding apparently, there is absolutely no way that something as...as scandalous as kissing him on her doorstep is ever going to happen. Clearly.

And yet, she gives Chris another few seconds to try and work past that blockade in his throat, but when he still can't muster a single word, she decides to just put the both of them out of their misery. Or further into it. It's probably just the same thing really. "I guess I'll see you next time. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She turns away and puts her hand on the doorknob, and tucks the book under her arm so she can dig into her bag for keys, but is stopped when Chris's hand abruptly snakes out and wraps itself firmly around her wrist before she can reach into the bag. And it works—boy does it ever —turning back to him and the hand wrapped around her wrist as excitement just starts to bubble up inside of her.

A second later though, his brain has apparently caught up with the movement he clearly hadn't intended to make, because his face goes beet-red and he's dropped her hand so he can shove both into the pockets of his jeans. He averts his eyes so he's back to staring at the loose gravel and dried leaves under their feet.

"Oh, uh, sorry about that. I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, Chris." Ashley tries to smile softly at him in reassurance, but it's considering she's gripping the doorknob in an almost vice-like grip in anticipation, it's likely far more eager than she would like. "What is it?"

Somehow, his face goes even redder and he blurts out the question so fast that it may as well have been one word. "CanIkissyou?!"

Immediately, Ashley's gaping at him wide-eyed and her mouth open in shock as her heart's beating so fast that she's pretty sure it's ready to burst out of her chest at any moment. "Wha—"

"I-I mean goodnight. Can I kiss you goodnight? That's what people are supposed to do on dates, right? A-a-a-and I think we agreed that this is a date now, or at least I really, really hope we did. Cause I've wanted to go on a date with you for the longest time and-and-and I didn't want Saundra or-or-or any of your neighbours to see cause I know that would just really embarrass you and me but I've been trying to ask you for the past thirty minutes now cause I've wanted to kiss you since forever but I was scared about how you would react cause I really, really, really like you Ash and I just wanna to kiss you so fucking bad right now you have no idea and—"

Ashley would like to believe that she's brave enough to throw her arms around Chris and drag him down into that searing kiss she's been dreaming about forever and ever, but she doesn't. Even with a confession that is everything she's ever wanted to hear and more. That's not to say that she doesn't want to do it—god does she want to do it—but she's so frozen in place from shock that she physically can't. So instead she just continues to gape at him as he (adorably) rambles on and on, and giggles out an elated little "okay".

His nervous rambling stops dead in its tracks, and he finally looks back up at her, nervous relief evident all over his face. "Really? I mean, are you sure? I'd understand if you didn't want to—"

" Chris ."

That immediately shifts the relief to a different kind of nervousness entirely, one of excited disbelief, but even then neither move to actually initiate this promised kiss for several seconds. Instead just staring at each other waiting for the other to be the first to move, Chris with his hands still in his jeans pockets and Ashley glued to the doorknob with her other hand frozen as it hovers over her bag. Finally, Chris is the first to slowly bend down to meet her awkwardly half turned body, and she unsteadily tries to rock herself onto the tips of her toes without losing her balance completely and falling over. And still, they both pause about an inch away from each other's faces, though whether to give the other an out if needed or just to work through the logistics of how to do this exactly without their foreheads or noses smashing into each other or Chris's glasses getting in the way is anyone's guess.

But finally, mainly due to the fact that Ashley can't lean forward anymore without falling completely on her face, Chris closes that final bit of distance and kisses her. It's a nervous brush of the lips really—a quick peck at best —but they jolt back from each other so quickly that the single action may as well have activated some hidden magnetic repel function that neither had been aware of until this moment. Both of them are staring at each other wide-eyed and breathless as the magnitude of what they had both finally managed to accomplish hit them. The kinda-sort confession and the almost hand holding meant absolutely nothing in comparison to this. Those she could have (and would most likely have) brushed off as her reading too much into innocent statements and gestures when she thought over everything that had happened today in the safety of her room later tonight. But this? This was physical proof .

Looking back, Ashley's not sure which of them moved first. One second they had been staring at each other in disbelief, stuck in the same awkward bent and leaning stature from before, and the next it's as if the magnetic attraction between them reverses its flow entirely. Chris is cupping her cheek with one hand as he kisses her in the way she always dreamed he would, his other hand slowly skating across the back of her neck so he can pull her up closer to him. The book that had once been clutched protectively under her arm was completely forgotten about—fallen to the ground with a sharp crunch as it crushed the dried leaves beneath their feet—as her arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders as she props herself as high as the tips her toes will allow her. She can still taste a hint of the chocolate from earlier on his lips, and the small part of her that isn't being blown away by all of this is wondering if he can taste the blueberry and chocolate on hers as well.

She's not sure how long the two of them stood there on her doorstep, kissing for all the world to see, but she does know that they still separate much, much too soon for her liking. Not that they fully separate of course. She may be back on the soles of her feet, but neither of them have removed themselves from the embrace itself. And with the way that Chris is lightly brushing his thumb over her cheekbone as he just stares at her with the same stupidly giddy grin she's got, Ashley would be perfectly fine if they could just stay standing like this forever.

"So..." she starts, and stops to take a moment to giggle when Chris bumps his nose into hers. "I think that was a perfectly acceptable first date if you ask me."

Chris doesn't let go of her when he leans back to consider her, the comically raised eyebrows in shock doing nothing to take away from the absolutely thrilled beam of his smile. " First date? Why Miss Brown, are you perhaps asking me out for a second one already?"

"I mean, if it's not too presumptuous of me, I suppose I am. I-if you're not opposed to it of course." She can't help the way her nervousness starts to bleed through with that last sentence, already panicking that she's somehow completely misread everything that's just happened and that maybe that kiss didn't mean as much to him as it did to her after all.

His next words completely derail those fears entirely. "Of course I'm not, I would love nothing more than to go on a second date with you. Followed by a third and fourth and even a fifth if you have the time for it."

"I mean, I'm a pretty busy girl but I think I can open up as many days in my schedule as it takes if I need to."

Before she knows it, the two of them are leaning in for another kiss when the sound of pot being dropped in the nearby kitchen through the open window jarringly brings them back to reality and the two of them let go of each other red faced and embarrassed. Oh no, how much of this had her mother heard? Or worse, saw? She wants to leave the doorstep (which is rapidly becoming her favourite place in the whole entire world) even less now, but the longer she takes the worse the excited interrogation from Saundra will be so she starts digging back into her bag to try and find her keys once again.

"I'll text you later, okay? And, maybe, we can talk some more about that second date...?"

The reply from Chris is flustered but eager. "Yeah, totally. I-I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Cool. And um, the next one's one me. The date that is. It's only fair after all."

"Yeah, right. Only fair. Totally. And, uh, your book..."

She finally finds her keys from where they had sunk to the bottom of her bag, and looks up at him and the paperback book that had fallen during their, uh, intimate embrace. "Oh! Uh, right. Thanks." She could easily leave it at that, but the last few minutes have made her bold so when she reaches out to take the book back from him, Ashley curls her fingers over his and bounces onto the balls of her feet so she can give him one last kiss on his cheek—almost the corner of his mouth really—before finally stepping back with the book and keys in her hand. "I mean it. Thanks . For everything."

"Yeah. No problem. It was my pleasure."

She lets herself have one last glimpse of the stupefied grin on his face just as he turns to walk just a little unsteadily down the path back to his truck. The only sounds being the leaves crushing underfoot and the jangle of metal as she sticks her keys into the door to finally unlock it. A sound that it quickly interrupted by not only the click of the door unlocking, but a muffled shout.

Alarmed, she turns quickly expecting to see Chris having accidentally shut his coat into the door as he is sometimes known to do when the weather gets colder, but instead watches in elated shock as he continues to keep energetically flapping his arms and fist pumping into the air and screaming what she can vaguely make out as 'yesyesyesyesYESYESYES' over and over again.

Suddenly it hits her. Despite the shy confession over ice cream, and then the much more rushed and rambled one only minutes ago, and followed by the kiss(es) that are still sending her heart into rapid fire, Ashley still hadn't believed what all the evidence had been saying. Chris liked her. He really, really liked her. Possibly as much as she liked him even! This wasn't just a one-off event that would now make things awkward between them for the rest of their lives. This was happening. They'd just had a first(!!!!) date and after Chris had kissed her goodbye, she had asked him out for a second one.

And he had accepted .

Ashley fumbled with the door and the moment she was in the house, slammed the door behind her, not even bothering to lock it. She let her bag fall from her shoulder to the floor with a soft thump and slowly slid down the door until she was sitting against it with her eyes wide and breathless. She ignored the surprised clatter coming from the kitchen as Saundra immediately dropped whatever it was she had been doing in and held up the book so she could stare at the once innocuous cover in amazement.

He had bought her this book and the ice cream because he liked her and he had gladly and excitedly accepted to go out on another date with her. And even more if he had been serious about that third date and beyond line.

And not that either would ever know it, Ashley mirrored Chris at that exact moment by placing her head into her hands and screaming as the built up joy and bliss finally exploded out of her.

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #take two of trying post this stupid thing!#tumblr deleted the last one >:(#but this one actually copied over the italics so that saves me a shit ton of time if im being honest

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hookedonapirate · 4 years

Text

Trick or Treat

A/N: It feels so great to post again. I've been in a writing slump for several weeks now, so I wanted to write something short and sweet to get the writing juices flowing. Thank you @hollyethecurious for your ideas for the premise and @darkcolinodonorgasm for Killian’s costume!

Rated: Teen and up for mature language

“Well, that’s disturbing.” Emma grimaces at the zombie gnome with gnarly teeth, reaching out with dirt and blood covered hands like he's coming out of the ground to get them. Even though it's not real, the graphics are enough to give a kid nightmares.

“That’s so cool, Mommy!”

Well, any kid who’s not her seven-year-old son that is. Henry runs down the sidewalk, his oversized hat falling off his head. He’s a ball of energy most days, but tonight, he’s extra energetic, and he hasn’t even had any candy yet.

“Kid, your hat!” She follows after him, picking up his hat from the winding walkway which is lined with jack-o'-lanterns on each side. But as she passes each one, she’s surprised when she realizes these aren’t just typical jack-o'-lanterns with a mouth, nose and eyes carved into them. No, these are intricately crafted jack-o'-lanterns. One is carved into a haunted house, one is a graveyard full of ghosts, another looks like a skull from afar, but up close, it appears to be carved into long stem mushrooms and grass. Her favorite is the pumpkin carving that mimics a scene from the Nightmare Before Christmas.

Like seriously, who has time to carve out all these pumpkins? And why weren’t the Jack-o'-lanterns on display as she had seen at the Night of 1,000 Jack-o'-lanterns at the Chicago Botanic Garden? Whoever carved these has some ridiculous artistic talent. They are also way too into Halloween, because their yard is all decked out. There are games set up on tables in the yard, skeletons and ghosts hanging from the trees and tombstone yard signs all over.

As she walks up the steps to the house, fake fog sweeps around her feet, the porch is covered in fake cobwebs with large spiders and the porch railing is lined with decorated jars, “potions”, skulls and other Halloween themed knickknacks. She laughs at the potion bottle labeled, “love potion.” When she reaches the door, which is wide open, a group of kids in cute costumes gathered around waiting for treats, she’s expecting the three looney witches from Hocus Pocus to emerge from the house.

When a man in a black top hat, tailcoat and a cane appears through the door with a bowl full of candy, she realizes how wrong she is.

Boy, is she wrong.

Holy shit, he’s gorgeous. His skin looks ghostly white from the makeup on his face and he's wearing a brown curly mustache, but those vivid blue eyes are so very blue, even in the dark and under the hat he’s wearing. She’s afraid those eyes will set her on fire when he looks at her.

“Trick or treat!” the children chorus.

Emma can’t take her eyes off the man as he excitedly hands out candy.

“I love your costume, lassie,” he compliments a little girl who's wearing an Elsa costume.

He has an accent? Holy hell.

The little girl frowns, clearly not understanding what he meant by lassie. “I’m not a dog, I’m Elsa.”

He chuckles, dropping a candy bar into her pumpkin bucket. “My apologies, Elsa. Please don’t blast me with ice.”

“Thank you, mister,” she says cheerfully before scurrying down the steps to meet her parents at the end of the walkway.

“Trick or treat!”

The man looks toward the small voice, seeing Henry approaching him. He grins big and wide, which makes him look much creepier than he already looks in his costume. Creepy, but sexy. “Well, hi there. Captain Hook, I presume?”

Henry nods his head and opens his Halloween sack, using his plastic hook to hold one of the straps.

“Very nice costume, lad. My favorite one so far.”

“Thank you. I made it,” Emma boasts with a smile as she steps behind her son, placing the hat on his head. She’s not normally one to brag, but then again bragging doesn’t normally afford her the opportunity to talk to ridiculously handsome strangers.

The man looks up, and when his eyes finally connect with hers, he completely steals her breath. She was wrong. His smoldering blue eyes don’t set her on fire, but they do make her melt.

And his heavy stare makes her skin tingle.

“You made this lovely costume?”

She waves her hand nonchalantly. “It was easy. Just took a red, long-sleeved shirt, some ribbon and slapped some red felt and white feathers on a straw hat and voila.”

“Very impressive, lass.” He glances at her shirt briefly before returning his eyes to hers. “Did you also make your costume?” he asks, his eyes dancing with mirth. He must have been referring to her red leather jacket and white t-shirt that reads, “This IS my Halloween costume.”

Emma laughs. “No, I bought it on Amazon.”

“Wow, Mom, check this out! Full-size candy bars!” Henry shouts excitedly when the stranger deposits the candy bar into his sack.

Emma tears her eyes from this man’s mesmerizing blue ones to see the full-size Snickers bar Henry’s holding out to show her. “Huh, people actually do give out full-size candy bars.” She looks up at the man. “I’m impressed. Let me guess, you also carved those pumpkins, too?” she asks, pointing to the pumpkins in his yard.

He nods with a small smile. “I did. You’d be amazed by what I can do with these hands,” he says smugly.

Emma wants to roll her eyes, but she can’t deny she very much wishes to find out exactly what he can do with those hands. Instead, she flashes a sarcastic smirk. “So who are you supposed to be, Jack the Ripper?”

He chuckles. “Not quite. I’m a gentleman from the Victorian Era. A devilishly handsome gentleman, may I add.”

She cocks a brow, laughter bubbling in her throat. “If by a devilishly handsome gentleman, you mean creepy.”

He sets down the candy bowl and surprises her when he takes her hand in his and lowers his head, murmuring softly as he looks up at her. “The name’s Killian Jones. And it just so happens, I’m always a gentleman. Not just on Halloween.” His touch sears her skin, then he presses his lips to the back of her hand and it feels like electrical currents are surging through her. Her breath catches, and she’s worried he will notice. Judging by the smirk spreading across her skin, he definitely noticed.

Emma turns her head, looking for her son, whom she spots in the yard playing games with the other kids, their parents supervising them. “I should get back to my son.”

This man actually pouts as he releases her hand. And it’s freaking adorable. “I told you my name and yet you haven't told me yours?”

She bites her bottom lip, contemplating whether she should or not. But then again, what’s the harm? It is a small town, so they’ll probably end up running into each other again at some point. “It’s Emma.”

He grins, making her heart melt. “Nice to meet you, Emma.”

“Likewise.”

He scratches behind his ear, which makes him look less creepy and even more adorable. “I’ve never seen you before. Are you new in town?”

“I’m from Chicago.”

“Well, love, welcome to Storybrooke.”

Oh. Now he’s calling her love? Can this man get any sexier? Jesus Christ. “Thank you.” She gives him a shy smile and turns to head down the steps.

“Wait. Before you go, I have a treat for you, too.”

She spins around, arching her brow. “Oh, that’s okay. Henry will share some of his candy with me.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “This treat is not for kids.”

Emma gulps. “What kind of treat did you have in mind?” Something salty? Her mind definitely did not go into the gutter there. Okay, it totally did.

He heads inside, then returns not a moment later with a caramel apple.

“A caramel apple?” She almost sounds disappointed. But she’s definitely not.

“Aye, but not just any caramel apple. It’s an adult caramel apple. So make sure you don’t share this with your lad.”

She eyes it suspiciously. “It’s not laced with love potion, is it?”

He chuckles and leans closer, whispering in her ear. “No. But it is laced with cannabis-infused butter.”

Emma smirks as she takes the caramel apple. “Wow, you really go all out on Halloween, don’t you?”

He shrugs. “You should come back around Christmas.”

“Oh God, you’re not one of those people who goes completely crazy with the Christmas lights and the decorations and Santa and his reindeer on the roof, are you?”

He shrugs again, donning a smirk. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

“Is that an invitation?” Because she's definitely not thinking about inviting him to get high and engage in hot, sweaty sex with her. Not at all.

“Perhaps. Do you and your son enjoy hot cocoa and watching Christmas movies in front of a cozy fireplace?”

She eyes the caramel apple and then glances up at him. “Does Santa enjoy adult cookies with his milk?”

His grin widens, making her heartbeat skyrocket out of her chest. “Aye, then it’s a date.”

Emma rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “Not a date.” She doesn’t like the idea of waiting until Christmas to see him again, though.

His face clouds with guilt. Sorry, love, I just didn't see a wedding ring on your finger so I assumed-”

“I'm not married,” she clarifies, her cheeks flushing because of the fact that he was curious enough to check her hand for a ring. “Nor do I have a boyfriend. I'm single.” Very single. She's never been so glad to be single before.

He sighs in relief, which gives her the courage to say what's on her mind and to thankfully change the subject.

“You know, adult cookies aren’t just for Christmas...”

He cocks his brow, and good Lord, she really needs him to stop doing that, because it’s doing things to her breathing and her heart. “No? What other special occasions are they for?”

She shrugs. “Like a Saturday night, say next week when my parents are taking Henry for the weekend.”

His eyes flash with something she can only describe as excitement. Or anticipation, maybe? “But still not a date, right?”

She shakes her head. “Nope, just two adults enjoying their adult cookies.”

He laughs. “Okay, I’ll bring the apple cider.”

“Sounds like a date,” she says accidentally when she had meant to say Sounds like a plan. But she doesn't even bother correcting herself as her cheeks warm with blush. She backs away and manages to rip her eyes from him to turn around and head down the steps. She finds Henry playing a game with the kids and takes his hand, telling him it’s getting late. He leaves with a groan but doesn't make a fuss.

As they leave the yard, Emma turns around, getting one last glimpse of the devilishly handsome Victorian gentleman. He winks and smiles at her, making her heart stutter, and she blushes and walks away as she leaves with her son.

She had doubts when she moved to this small town to start over, but the warm feeling in her chest is telling her perhaps coming to Storybrooke wasn't a bad idea after all.

Tagging a few people who might be interested in reading:

@kmomof4 @teamhook @ilovemesomekillianjones @onceuponaprincessworld @artistic-writer @nikkiemms @snowbellewells @donteattheappleshook @itsfabianadocarmo @searchingwardrobes @melly326

#cs ff #captain swan #halloween

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imasimpforstevengrant · 4 years

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Why do we like this clown so much?

Change the "we" for "I" and you get an usual tag I use whenever I post my content in Tumblr. And it sounds funny at first but whenever you start diving into that phrase, the deeper it becomes. So, I finally have decided to share my thoughts about this strange but wholesome attraction to this deeply flawed character. It's not something I usually do since I don't know how to write down my feelings properly and also in english so please forgive any typos (I'm from Chile so don't be surprised lol).

So...Why do we like this clown so much?

Why was it that a character precisely designed to scare and to disgust the fuck out of us ended up unchaining a series of feelings that shouldn't have taken place in a beginning?

Let's take a look at the background: Joaquin Phoenix was cast as Arthur Fleck/Joker in 2018. The first image of him as the aforementioned character revealed a deeply disturbed man. We knew the plot. A man driven to insanity after a brutal history of abuse, creating concern in people if the upcoming film would inspire real life violence. Incel violence and mass shootings, more specifically.

(the image in question)

As 2019 arrives, the two trailers generated so much hype that media needed to fuel its concern about it. Since it wasn't your typical comic book film, media basically bombed our minds making us believe this film was going to be a total disaster, an excuse to cause harm to others among other nonsense, as if the film would justify everything Arthur would do in the film, eventually. As the release date is closer, the film receives thunderous applause and unanimous praise from critics. At this, fans rejoiced and expressed impatience to watch the film.

October 5th.

People left the theaters amazed, shocked and genuinely moved by the inhuman treatment Arthur received in the film. The fear media tried so desperately to infuse in us with all the incel bullshit and such turned out to awake one of the most positive, best feelings in humans:

E M P A T H Y

The word that so gloriously cleared away any dark thoughts or actions not only proves media was wrong but it turned out to ridicule it in way nobody will forget: Hundreds of people advocating for mental illness, calling out to the kindness that could change a person's bad day and questioning how politicians and rich people are indifferent to social problems proved how much as a society we have changed in comparison with the one shown in the film.

However, since we are on Tumblr, I'll get straight to the point and try to explain why the fuck does this clown has us dying out of love and compassion (and lust).

I. Background.

As nurturing as we women are for a biological matter, we see a man deprived of a good job, is on seven different medications, working like a slave to sustain his ill mother, putting aside his own health and well-being to look for her, struggling to make his dream of being a comedian despite everyone stepping on him, underpaid and treated like a freak for a disorder he did not ask to suffer, which makes it impossible to be indifferent to all the horrible ordeal that eventually will reach the limit of what he can tolerate without going insane. It is impossible to not say or think, at least, that someone (even if it's just one person) should stand for him just as it is impossible not to feel the need to throw ourselves at him to shield him from people who hurt him or simply offer him our shoulder whenever he has had a bad day, specially when he learns he was sexually assaulted by his step father.

This horrid behaviour terrifies newer generations because they get a taste of what being a social outcast was like more than thirty years ago in comparison with today, where there's more acceptance and treatment for mentally ill people like Arthur. We see in him someone who could have been saved with a proper education and emotional support instead of descending into madness as a criminal. Others simply saw themselves being treated like him at some point in their lives and couldn't help but put themselves in his shoes.

II. Personality.

TRUTH BE TOLD:

There's something called "attraction by proximity". It is the explanation to the eventual love you feel whenever someone doesn't catch your eye at first terms of physical attraction but his/her personality does attract you. This happens to be the base of this situation. His shyness, introverted nature, tenderness and innocent desire to make people laugh and put on a happy face awake some kind of tenderness we cannot resist. This combined with the gloomy background increases our understanding (but not justifying) of the bad decisions he'll eventually take during the course of the film. This traces a line of harsh, almost hurtful contrast of the violence he shows later on the film. Once again, it is not justified in any way but it is certainly understandable.

III. Appearance.

Arthur Fleck is unconventionally attractive.

This happens to be a plus for most women. He is out of the male beauty standards (no abs, not too muscly or particularly tall), which makes him even more unique. It is precisely the fact that he's not a model one of the reasons women love him. He could easily be your man next door or your colleague or the guy you always see but never dare to talk for fear to bother him Because it's about proximity. Arthur looks like your common neighbour. He's not meant to be your typical desirable male protagonist at all.

... And yet.

Jesus Christ, he's so fucking hot I can't even---

It's not about how beautiful his green eyes are, his long slender fingers, his hair or his smile only. It's the charm behind it.

Another "magnet point" is the way he dresses. I know he's impoverished and his wardrobe tend to be repetitive but it is so unpretentious, so simple that is hard to not fall for. The modesty of the shirts, ironed trousers reminds us of a mature man deeply withdrawn into himself, love starved and longing to be seen and loved by others, like a war veteran who still fights the most important war: with himself. Is someone who needs to be listened and understood.

AND OF COURSE WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE ABOUT IT?

He's also brought back the old gentleman outfit, white shirts, red/yellow vest, red suit and elegant dancing moves and the retro style of the film boosts this attractiveness.

People keep comparing him with the previous interpretation of Joker (Leto's) whose costume appealed to young women with a tattooed, gangster, mumble rapper crazy-guy wannabe which didn't connect with the audiences (young people in general). This supposedly was to match or even have a sexy, tormented and desirable villain like Marvel's Loki. We all know how that story ended but it's the link for the next point below.

IV. Transformation

This is a particularly strong point considering how much we loved to watch the process of this weak, powerless, forgotten caterpillar into a beautiful and visible butterfly that will gracefully stir its wings for everyone to see its colours.

When Arthur transitions to the Joker, it's so cathartic to see taking revenge on those who wronged him (even when we're not supposed to root for him) like seeing his shyness fading away into a vivid confidence when dancing half naked in the bathroom, or witnessing him making way to make his name known to people in Murray Franklin's Show:

Adding to this newly gained confidence, there's another turn on: the way he walks.

At the beginning, his pace is hunched and limping, displaying his submission to violence, which makes the viewer more satisfied to see his broken yet beautiful soul turning the past pain of his existence into art: he lets music guide his moves as a way to tell the world he's a new man by cutting most of the sick, evil roots that harmed him, that he's invincible, that no one can stop him. Watching this cathartic display of euphoria was the most iconic scene in the film, following his speech at the TV and the inevitable meltdown that caused Murray's death.

Going to further appreciation, even his clown make up is beautiful. Why? Simple. The combination of colours, shapes and the intimidating glare just embellishes even more the character.

The dark blue triangles in his expressive eyes makes the light green colour to highlight, specially in dark backgrounds, giving the impression he's piercing your soul whenever he stares directly at the camera. Same can be said about the red smile and emerald green hair. They boost an already intimidating look.

The cold and warm colours paint a picture of a man full of intense emotions, mirroring it in a simple yet masterful artistic way.

Another interesting point is the way Joker dresses. Usually we had almost every single live adaption of this character in purple coat, hat, etc. But this particular version is not following any comic, which gives more freedom to creativity and once again, out of the standards of what we could have expected.

Red is a colour related to passion, action, love, strength, motivation and excitement. As for yellow, it indicates freshness, happiness and enlightenment and finally, green. Green is renewal, growth and regeneration. Colours that represent a new stage in his life, a mirthful chapter at last. We finally get to see our battered, always humiliated protagonist (or hero) descending into madness, but finally free from his repressed man who held his soul captive like a bird to fly away, to never come back. An insanity that despite being his downfall, turned out to be his ticket to freedom as he walks to the light in Arkham Asylum dancing at the end.

Ladies and gentlemen: behold the film nobody asked... But the film we fucking deserved.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

❤️💚💛

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angsty-nerd · 4 years

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RNM 2X13 - Echo Download

I've been having a hard time trying to put my feelings about the Season 2 finale into words, so I've been sitting on it for a few days, reading everyone's metas, and trying to organize and separate my actual thinky thoughts from the angst and heartache. That… is not something I am particularly good at. But I'm trying.

I LOVE this show. The writing is a mess. There's plot holes all over the place. The pacing issues alone make me want to tear my hair out. And dear God do I want them to give these characters and relationships (including friendships) the time and space for the big moments to land properly. I don't know if we'll ever get any of that though. And in the meantime, I love these characters and the story, messes and all.

Everyone knows my biggest love is Echo, so I'm gonna start there.

"I don't know what you thought love was gonna be like when we were 17, but it's not all sunsets and horseback rides."

Back in the OG days, there was one consistent criticism I had with the way they wrote Max and Liz's story: the breakups always felt like bullshit. Max breaks up with Liz because she was afraid of some weird alien shit. Liz breaks up with Max because he's "supposed to be with Tess" and meanwhile he's like, "um… no?" We had "it's too dangerous" when it was dangerous regardless. "We're just different" but not in ways that actually mattered.

Echo's breakup mattered. There were issues and they were not dealing with them. Both of them were sneaking around behind the other's back. Neither was being fully honest with the other.

The unwavering honesty was something that stood out to me in S1. Yes, Max was hiding the truth about Rosa's death. But when it came to the present they were almost laughably open with each other. Liz didn't lie about it when Max asked if she told Kyle the truth. When Max asked what she was doing in the lab, she told him the truth. Once Liz knew the truth about Rosa, she knew everything. It seemed like with that truth out there was nothing left to hide. And once they got together they were a team. Immediately. There's a reason that we had a joking headcanon in the Echo world that they had their first kiss and then they were a married couple.

I really think Max's death not only put that to a screeching halt...it also put them on this path to the breakup. Liz has abandonment issues, and Max made a choice, without her, that resulted in him leaving her alone. It wasn't openly discussed in the depth that it should have been this season, but I really do think it was issue #1. Liz loves Max and she was very happy being with him...but after he came back from the dead she didn't trust him to not leave her again. It was an issue simmering under the surface from Episode 7 until the finale. Liz channeled it all into worrying about his heart, but the underlying theme was a resounding "I can't go through that again". Which is deeper than just the worry over a physical health problem. And it pushed Max away from her.

He grew irritable with her. He started hiding things from her and lying to her. The season just ended and I have no idea if he ever told her anything about his memory flashes! He was obsessively trying to learn about his past and never once discussed it with Liz!?? Because he didn't want her to stop him from using the serum? This is a HUGELY personal thing to Max and you can see how much it means to him. He had tears in his eyes while telling Isobel about it. I mean, that puppy dog excitement, and yet, he hides it all whenever Liz is around.

I think it was around episode 8 that we started talking about how badly they needed to have a big fight. Us -- the Echo shippers -- the ones who WANT them to be together -- were BEGGING them to fight. I hate conflict!! But the lack of honestly and the aversions were just building and building and I just wanted it all out on the table.

They finally STARTED having that fight in episode 11, but then Rosa and Isobel interrupted. In retrospect, sweet alien!Jesus, I wish they could have finished then. Maybe they would have gotten the air clear between them. Maybe it would have put them on a path to healing their relationship before the finale. But they didn't, so the breakup happened. And the thing is… that ending. It just kind of haunts me. Liz waiting and hoping for a grand gesture that never comes. I mean, did Max even know WHEN she was leaving!?! He sure didn't seem to have it on his mind when they flashed to him in that scene. And their fight...was all about what Liz was doing and Max not taking care of his heart. They never once touched on what he was trying to learn about his past. I'm pretty certain that Liz left without knowing any of that.

And the thing is… I'm sort of skirting around the meat of the issue here. Because the biggest problem of all of this was Liz violating Max by studying his biology without consent.

I really hate saying that in writing, because, to me, it's kind of the most horrible part of all of this.

Max Evans has been referred to in jest in this fandom as the King of Consent. He was so careful with Liz, tiptoeing around her looking for explicit consent in Season 1 until her desire for him was made abundantly clear. He only ignored the need for consent twice: both times in the S1 finale. Healing Michael's hand and healing Rosa. But those things both happened after he killed Noah. After he was high on his own power. They were very clearly set up as out of character for him.

Liz didn't give him the same respect. Consent does not just apply to sexual situations and healing. It applies to studying too. It applies to Liz USING Max's biology without his permission. It also applies to administering the cure to Steph without her consent. Liz was very, very wrong here.

And the thing is… it sure didn't seem like the writers saw it that way. It also didn't seem like JEANINE saw it that way. There's been a little bit more balanced quotes from them in interviews this week since the finale ended as far as saying that both Max and Liz were wrong, but they sure focused on Liz being incredible and strong before the finale aired.

The part that confuses me though...like, a LOT, is that the narrative was pretty clear that what Liz was doing was Bad and Wrong. She looked guilty. She was lying and hiding things from Max. And the MORAL COMPASS OF THE SHOW, Mr. Kyle Valenti, repeatedly told her she was wrong. Kyle called her out on her ethical violations even as he was thanking her for saving Steph.

Genoryx was set up as being bad. Liz herself refused to go work for them in the flashbacks because they were morally sketchy. Although, maybe that's the draw now that she is all full of ethical violations. Sigh.

I'm gonna leave this topic now, but I'll encourage you to go read @latessitrice's meta on the subject here:

Okay...so to sum this up? The breakup was coming. We knew it was coming. But it still hurt my heart so much. I haven't seen anyone gif Jeanine's performance of the "I am in love with you. And I hate that right now." But the delivery of that line broke me.

That being said...do I see it being over? Let's give that a resounding FUCK, NO. I mean, sure, they fought. And it hurt. And Liz ran away. Without saying goodbye. And all of that SHATTERED ME.

But...they still love each other even if they both have a lot to work on individually. That’s part of what MADE it so hard.

I am actually stoked for season 3. Two Maxes? All of the delicious angst once Liz gets home. Liz not knowing there's two Maxes and meeting Jones first and not knowing who he is and being vulnerable to his mindfuckery? Or just his fuckery in general. Whatever. I am here for it.

I am here for Liz discovering that something about Genoryx is Not Right. I'm here for her living a normal life and getting drawn back into the madness. I'm here for Max getting more powerful and more alieny under Jones's guidance. And I am here for what I am certain will be an epic reunion once they are back together again.

As a last more positive comment...I’m stoked that we get to have both Max and Liz alive and facing interesting potential storylines this hiatus. All I wanted from this finale, in truth, was to leave the characters in a place that inspired me to want to write for them for the next year plus or however long this COVID-extended hiatus ends up being. And I am so excited for that.

And I have talked enough now that I will go ahead and post this and leave this post as my Echo Takeaways from the finale. I'll be back again with some more gen/bigger picture thoughts later.

#roswell new mexico #rnm season 2 #rnm echo #max&liz #max evans #liz ortecho #ogroswell #feeling the feels #ouch my heart #rnm echo meta #my meta

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heartbreakerholland · 6 years

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lunchtime losers [p.p.]

Summary: Peter Parker was one of your best friends in high school, but there were moments that made you question who exactly he could be to you. Here are a few of those moments you spent in Midtown, trying to figure things out year by year.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of underaged drug use, mild swearing, open ended. . . ending(?), unedited

Disclaimer: i cannot stress enough that you shouldn't do drugs/alcohol while underaged. i know high school is weird and everybody might seem to be experimenting with new things, but i promise there'll be a time and place where it's appropriate to do so. i am in no way glamorizing/romanticizing (underaged) drug use, even if it's such a small portion of this fic. drug/alcohol abuse is very serious, even as a teenager when it doesn't seem like you're abusing it.

A/N: i have some pointers! this is a different writing style compared to what i've posted before. i've written like this back when i first started writing fanfiction years ago and quite frankly, i don't even like it that much, so i'm very iffy about this. this is based off of my own experience with getting to know my feelings about a good friend, and a lot of the scenes in here are closely accurate to what's actually happened in my life. the only part that i can say is 100% pure imagination is the ending, which i know will probably make a lot of you frustrated ☺️ (it's because i still haven't told this person my feelings for him oops) ANYWAYS this is written in a very one sided perspective, but i tried to write in a way that you can read between the lines and get a little idea of what peter’s feelings are too. a lot of peter’s and the reader’s feelings are told merely through action and dialogue and less of actual explaining, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless 💞

feedback is greatly appreciated and feel free to request a part 2! enjoy reading!

[masterlist] [join a tag list]

•••

Freshman Year

"This has been going on for weeks," Michelle muttered to you. "If the tension at the table gets any worse, then I'm not sitting with you guys anymore."

You stepped out of the lunch line with your tray in hand, following MJ to stand away from the crowd of students. Looking behind her, you watched Peter and Ned enter the lunch room and sit down at your usual table.

You rolled your eyes. "I already told you. Maybe Peter likes me and maybe I like him back, but he's always been one of my closest friends. I don't want to ruin that."

She scoffed and began walking towards the table with you at her side. "So? You can date and still be friends—"

"But what about when we break up? We either stay friends or never talk to each other again. I'm not risking it."

You knew she would have said more, but the two of you already made it to your table. You took place in your usual seats, Michelle next to Ned and you across from them, next to Peter. You set your backpack on the ground underneath the bench where everyone sat. Without thinking about it, you handed Peter your chocolate milk carton and apple sauce, while he slid over his fruit snacks that May always packed for him. It was a routine; you always got those because you didn't like eating it but you knew Peter did, and Peter never told May that he doesn't like fruit snacks because you loved eating them.

MJ narrowed her gaze at you during the interaction, but you chose to ignore her. It was nothing more than a routine.

"Y/N, Michelle," Ned said. "Please tell Peter that he's being stupid.”

Without missing a beat, you and MJ repeated Ned's words at the same time.

Peter glanced between the two of you with mock surprise. "You didn't even know what we were talking about!"

MJ shrugged, taking a bite out of her food. "Don't have to. You're always stupid, Parker."

He put a hand over his chest. "I'm hurt, guys. I really am."

You chuckled but said nothing more, allowing your three friends to carry the conversation while your mind wandered.

You tried your best to pinpoint the moment you began liking Peter as more than a friend, but your heart wasn't into it.

All you could really tell was when you became more conscious of how close you always sat with him, thighs glued to the side and elbows never coming apart. You blamed it on the lunch table crowded with other students on either side of your friend group, giving you absolutely no space for Jesus in between.

You would catch yourself staring, taking note of his mannerisms and how his light brown hair always seemed to bounce whenever his head moved. You decided you noticed those things because of how long you've been friends with him.

You realized you always watched for his reaction first before seeing the others' after you said something funny, but you told yourself it was only because you valued his opinion the most.

You tried taking note of his flaws in hopes that it would get rid of whatever those feelings were. His hands were always clammy, his backpack was so big that you weren't sure how he didn't topple over when it was on his back, and sometimes he'd spit a little when he talked a lot. (For some reason, those things didn't push you away like you wanted.)

You felt a kick from under the table, bringing you back to the cafeteria. You looked up to be met with Michelle's glare, who signaled you to check your phone. Reaching into your pocket, you took your phone out and looked at the screen under the table.

Michael Jackson: if u keep staring at peter then he might actually notice for once

You gave MJ a look, who was the one who sent the text, and put your phone away. You didn't realize you'd been mindlessly eating until you felt full. You slid your food to Peter, who began eating the rest of it without second thought. (He always ate his lunch first then whatever you couldn't finish as well.) Routine.

Before you could actively participate in the conversation, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

The four of you rose from the long table, gathering your trash to throw it away. You slouched over to grab your bag from where you put it.

"Here ya go," Peter said from behind.

You turned around to see him holding up your backpack for you.

"Oh, thanks," you smiled, swinging the backpack over your shoulders.

He returned the smile. "You going to your locker?"

"Like always, Pete."

"Alright," he slowly backed away. "See you in five?"

You nodded and began walking the other direction, where your locker was. Michelle followed Peter to the band room while Ned decided to accompany you on your short walk.

"Soooo, Y/N," he said suggestively. "That dance is coming up."

You groaned. "I thought the four of us were just going to sleep over at MJ's that night?"

You stopped in front of your locker, opening it to grab a textbook for one of your classes later in the day. You grabbed one of Peter's hoodies that he left in there, knowing it would be cold in the band room. (You had a locker in one side of the school while Peter had his own in the other side. You both agreed to share both, merely for convenience and nothing more.) Ned leaned on the locker next to yours, facing you.

He fiddled with his backpack straps. "You know how the school's making it a 'girls ask guys' kind of thing? Well, Michelle was thinking that maybe we should go! Like, she'll ask me and you can ask Peter—"

You raised a pointed finger at your friend. "I see what you're doing now," you accused him. You shut the locker and began walking towards the band room with Ned beside you. "I don't condone meddling, Leeds."

"But Y/N!" he said excitedly. "MJ and I know that you two like each other. You know that Peter likes you. He knows that you like him. You know that he knows that you like him. He knows that you know that he likes you. It's a win-win!"

You sighed. "You're making it sound more complicated than it actually is."

The two of you made it to the band room and Ned opened the door for both of you to walk in. You both headed to retrieve your instruments, with other students swarming by.

"You're making it actually complicated! Look, Y/N. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but," he lowered his voice, "if you don't ask Peter to the dance, then he's gonna ask you."

You froze, holding your instrument case in the air. "What?" You regained yourself and set the case down, facing Ned. "No, Ned. No. Listen. I'll tell you what I told Michelle, okay? I just want to be Peter's friend—"

"But you like him!"

"But I don't want to do anything about it. It's just a crush—it'll pass. I treasure our friendship more than having a crush that won't last forever."

Ned raised and dropped his arms exasperatedly, giving up.

Michelle popped up, seeming chipper than usual. "Hey guys, we're practicing for contest today," she said. "What're you talking about?"

"It's not gonna happen, MJ," Ned sighed. He grabbed his instrument and trudged away, leaving you two alone since the rest of the students seem to have gone in their respective practice rooms already.

Michelle put her hands on her hips and stared at you, her attitude changing back to normal. "Why not, Y/N? Are you scared or something?"

You sighed. You turned around and headed the same direction Ned went, with MJ following closely behind. "No, I'm not scared. Can you guys please stop meddling? I just don't want anything to happen, and that's it."

The two of you stopped in front of your designated practice room, the door closed. You peeked through the small window in the door, seeing the boys were already in there, oblivious to you and MJ on the other side.

"Why not?" Michelle asked. "You'll regret not ever knowing what could have been—"

"No, that's the thing," you interjected. You were tired of hearing these talks about Peter, and it was beginning to show. "I know that I won't regret it. I can daydream about 'could-have-beens' with Peter all my life, and I'll be fine with that. I don't want to lose him, and if that means that I can't be with him romantically, then that's what I'm gonna do. Having a crush is always temporary, Michelle. Peter's the kind of person that I want permanently in my life. Do you know what I mean now?"

She stared at you with a hint of sadness in her eyes, like she could see right through your words. See what, you weren't sure. After a skeptical moment, she took a breath, surrendering. "Alright, fine. I'll let him know that."

You took a breath of relief. "Thank you."

Michelle turned to open the door to the practice room, Ned and Peter welcoming the two of you in.

The practice room was small with the four of you and your instruments in it, meaning you'd be in close quarters with them—Peter specifically.

It was easy to pretend your feelings for Peter weren't there. It was easy to act like yourself despite the elephant in the room. Before the complications, you and Peter were glued together, so why treat him differently now?

Maybe you noticed him noticing you, watching your moves when you pretended you couldn't see where his line of sight was directed. Maybe you took note of him flinching back whenever you accidentally brushed against him, and how the sweat from his palms were more prominent on his instrument.

But it was easier to ignore those things, which is what made it easier for you to act like it never happened in the first place.

Sophomore Year

You weren't usually one to gloat, but damn it you were right about the situation with Peter and you told yourself that you should be happy about it.

Crushes were always temporary. Friendship could last forever.

Could.

Michelle and Ned eventually stopped bringing it up freshman year, and you figured Peter eventually stopped liking you as well.

The whole ordeal wasn't something any of you talked about, an unsaid truth never to be spoken. You refused to even think about those weird few months and how you felt during that time. You told yourself that having a mutual crush on your best friend wasn't something to think about.

You were just glad that you weren't the center of Peter's attention anymore. You knew this was true, mainly because his attention drifted to Liz Allen. The intelligent, breathtaking, lucky girl: Liz Allen.

Besides Peter's obvious crush on her, nothing changed.

"If you three weren't my only friends at this school," MJ said, "I'd stop eating lunch with you guys."

You followed her out of the lunch line after paying, just like the normal routine since last year. The two of you began walking across the cafeteria and towards the same table you've always sat at, with Ned and Peter already there. (The only difference nowadays was Peter sat next to Ned, and you and MJ sat across from them, so Peter could helplessly drool over Liz across the lunch room.)

You chuckled. "Me too, I think. . . It's because of Peter, huh?"

She groaned. "Duh. All he does is gush about her."

You laughed as you sat down next to Michelle, having finally made it to the table. Before even being able to look at your food, Peter began talking.

"She straightened her hair today, guys! She looks so different but still. . . so good."

Ned followed where Peter's eyes were, seeing it was true. Michelle faked a gag, which only you noticed.

The two of you ate your food in silence, which was something different compared to before Liz came in the picture. Peter also stopped bringing you fruit snacks and eating the food that you couldn't finish, as well as denying to take chocolate milk and apple sauce from you.

Sometimes you'd catch yourself missing those little things, but you told yourself it was only because of the change in what used to be normal. Before, normal was getting squished next to Peter and enjoying it, oddly realizing the days he switched between his cologne, and endless banter between the four of you. Now, normal was having to think of what to say to strike a conversation with him, rolling your eyes at his comments on Liz, and being vaguely aware of the few times he looked your way.

You would find yourself hurting, and you'd have to correct your thoughts and say it was only missing the past. There was no use in feeling sorry for yourself, though. Things happen, feelings change, and that was that. You were still friends with Peter in one way or another, and that's what you wanted, so clearly you had to be happy about things going your way.

"You guys are losers," Michelle told the boys, who were still fawning over the senior girl in the cafeteria.

Peter didn't seem to hear her, (he didn't seem to hear anything you and MJ said, nowadays), but Ned shrugged. "You're still friends with us," he replied.

That was true. You were still friends and that's what mattered. It was weird having to remind yourself of that fact, but it was still that: a fact.

"Hey, Y/N?" Peter spoke out of nowhere.

His voice fazed you. It was odd hearing him say your name now, especially after realizing he used to say it almost as often as he breathed.

"You know about girls, right?"

You and Michelle shared a glance, knowing where this was headed.

"I mean, I am a girl, so yeah," you said. You looked at him, but his eyes never seemed to have left the special girl seated somewhere behind you. You paid no mind to it, your eyes going over how his head was dreamily rested on his hand.

"Okay, so," he began. "Hypothetically speaking. . . If you're a senior, would you date a guy that's a sophomore?"

You rolled your eyes, but decided to mess with Peter. "Well, what's the guy like?"

Michelle snorted.

"He's, uhm. . . He's pretty smart. Really nice, I think—"

"He's a cutie!" Ned chimed in.

You shrugged. "Well, if that's all he has going for him. . ."

"No!" Peter retaliated. "He's really cool, and uh, thinks you're pretty! Yeah, you're pretty."

You felt your face heat up and you were glad that none of your friends were looking at you for once.

You were warned that the people you walk into high school with would never be the people you'd walk out of high school with. People grew apart and that was life, apparently. You didn't think those warnings would actually apply to you, though. You thought the four of you were too strong together to separate.

By the time sophomore year was halfway done, you were proved dearly wrong.

You thought Liz would be the only strain on your friendship with Peter, but his behavior drastically changed out of nowhere then suddenly he got an internship with Stark Enterprises. Peter was one of the smartest people you ever met, so you weren't surprised. If anything, the real surprise was he not only quit the only class he had with you—which was music—but he stopped even trying to talk to you.

You and Michelle decided to stop sitting with Peter and Ned during lunch.

"There he goes again," Michelle pointed.

You followed her gaze and saw that Peter was fawning over Liz again, which was weird considering he rarely showed up during lunch anymore.

It hurt. You knew that now. Missing Peter wasn't something you'd expect to feel, but lately? It's all you've felt.

You didn't have to miss MJ or Ned, because you still saw them and talked to them regularly. It was only Peter. Always Peter freaking Parker.

Maybe you took him for granted. You'd never thought that there'd come a day that you'd stop sharing food, sharing classes, sharing a conversation.

"No point in regretting it," you said aloud.

It was more for yourself than to Michelle. You made your decision on who Peter was to you, so it would only be a waste of time in wondering who he could have been.

Junior Year

Something changed sophomore year. Ned told you that Peter ditched the academic decathlon which resulted in him getting detention. That was something you never expected to hear, considering Peter was the perfect example of Midtown High's star student.

The beginning of junior year, you saw him in music. He stayed this time.

He seemed to be taking advantage of "conveniently" getting the same class like before. He made a point to talk to you again—during class and lunch—and it was like he never ditched you and MJ.

"Oh my God," you rolled your eyes. You aggressively turned your body to face Peter who sat beside you. "You just want to win! You're not even right!"

He looked at Ned and MJ sat in front of you two for help, but they only stared back with clear amusement. (The four of you assumed your usual seats from freshman year, so you would always get squished against Peter's side at lunch again.)

"It doesn't matter if I'm right!" he exclaimed with big hand gestures. "A debate is a debate! You could be right—I'm not saying you are—but I'm just better at debating than you."

Ned did a terrible job at hiding his laughter from the argument you were having with Peter.

This was something that you were happy you had the chance of getting used to again—not that you'd ever tell Peter that. As soon as the school year began and all of you sat together, not so playful yelling was all that accompanied the lunch table.

The dorky boy loved proving himself right, and you loved proving people wrong. As soon as the second week of sharing lunch in the cafeteria passed by, it would have been weird not to bicker with him like before.

Michelle slammed her book closed, startling the three of you to silence. "Look," she said, giving you and Peter a death glare. "Y/N, Peter has some good points—all only technical, but still good."

Peter thanked her and you huffed, upset MJ wasn't on your side.

"Shut up, Peter," she said. "Peter, Y/N's still right, and you're just gross."

"Ha!" you yelled, then rose from the table's bench and reached over to high-five Ned. (You were sure he'd side with either of you, but it was the thought that counts.)

Peter scoffed. "It's not that gross," he said, refusing to take Michelle's answer. "If you were on a deserted island with a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and no microwave, it would still be safe to eat them—"

"The directions say to microwave them for a reason, Peter!" you interrupted.

"It's already cooked!" he brought up, which was something he pointed out earlier in the conversation. "It's cooked before it's frozen, then you can just warm it up in the microwave—but that doesn't mean you have to—"

"Y'know what, fine," you said, slamming your hands down on top of the lunch table. "You can eat frozen chicken nuggets all you want, Peter. But I am going to warm mine up in the microwave like everybody else. And if you get some weird disease, don't come crying to me because I was right—"

"I won't come crying back to you! Because I'm still right!"

The bell rang, signaling the end of your lunch before you could put another word in. The four of you immediately rose, with MJ and Ned heading straight to the band room.

You reached down for your backpack, only not to find it where you left it. Turning around, Peter held it in the air for you to shrug on. Just like before.

The two of you silently walked side by side to your locker so you could switch out textbooks and get one of Peter's sweaters that he always "forgot" in there.

"How's that one guy doing?" Peter asked, one hand in his jean pocket with the other gripping his backpack strap.

You shrugged, opening your locker. He leaned against the locker next to yours, staring you down with his usual grin.

You'd be damned if you didn't say puberty was doing Parker well. You wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't ditched you last school year, but he definitely got. . . toned, to say the least. He also learned how to use hair gel and walked around school with clothes that seemed to make him more confident.

You cleared the thoughts away. Those things were only noticeable because you were friends with him. Obviously.

"You mean Carlos?" you replied. You reached into the locker and sorted out what you needed to.

Peter nodded then grabbed the textbooks you had in your arms. You shut the locker and the two of you began your walk to the band room.

"I'm pretty sure he was flirting with me, which was nice," you told your friend. "But he stopped talking to me out of nowhere and hasn't even opened my messages since."

He scrunched his eyebrows. "Here, lemme see the messages."

Before you could reach in your back pocket for your phone, Peter beat you to it with his free hand. He unlocked it and went to the messages. While reading it, he chuckled.

"Seriously, Y/N?" he said, amused. "That's why he stopped replying! You called him 'dude!'"

You gave him a shocked look. "So what? I call everyone dude."

Making it to the band room, you opened the door and followed Peter in. He spoke while the two of you set down your belongings. "You friend-zoned him."

You scoffed. "I did not!"

He gave you a look. "Y/N. I've been friend-zoned enough times to know when somebody else is getting friend-zoned."

You rolled your eyes and turned around to get yours and Peter's instruments, but something felt off about what he said. You didn't really care about talking to Carlos, but what Peter said felt like it was partially directed to you. You didn't blame him, because you technically did friend-zone him. . . but that was two years ago! Clearly he let it go by now, because you definitely did.

Senior Year

You and Michelle stumbled inside her home, waving a goodbye to Peter—who dropped you two off—before shutting the front door.

"Dude," you turned to her. She looked at you with glazed eyes, but was still able to keep her focus. You continued, "I am so gone."

Both of you giggled, leaning on each other to take off your shoes and put aside your bags. MJ led you to a couch, retrieved water from the kitchen, then sat next to you. She chugged the water down with a hand clearly steadier than yours. "What do you mean?" she asked. Her eyes were bloodshot and droopy, but she looked put together for the most part.

You shrugged lazily, taking a sip of your water. "You've seen me smoke," you said to her. "I've been. . . chill, buzzed, whatever. But right now? I am high." Laughter interrupted whatever you could have said next, though you weren't sure if you had anything to say.

She laughed with you, still clearly having a good time despite being more sober. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "Like," you looked around the room, searching for the right set of words. "I haven't been this high in a while. . . Like, you've never seen me this gone."

"Ooh," she rubbed her hands together comically. "I'm excited."

You rubbed your eye, forgetting the makeup you had on. "Why?"

"Because!" she chirped up. "You know what they say? Drunk words are sober thoughts. Well, high words too, maybe."

You shook your head with a smile before drinking more water. You didn't mind letting loose with Michelle; you trusted her, which was why you smoked as much as you did in the first place. You were comfortable enough to allow her to see this side of you, even if there was the chance you might not remember any of it in the morning.

You helped each other up the stairs, having decided you should at least take off your makeup and change your clothes. (Thank God her parents weren't coming home that night.) By the time you both finished, you were seated comfortably on the couch once again, this time underneath one large blanket and with the television playing late night cartoons in front of you. A single lamp as well as the TV were your only light sources, which kept the living room in a dim glow.

"Can I be honest?" you spoke over the cartoons, startling Michelle. Neither of you were sobering up at all, but that fact didn't stop anything.

She nodded and turned off the TV. MJ turned to completely face you, giving you her attention. "Yeah," she said. "What's up?"

You began rambling without hesitation. "You know how Peter was at the game? Well, of course he was. He had to be because the band was playing for the football team and he's in band. . . But anyways, I didn't talk to him at all—he always seemed busy with somebody else—but I couldn't stop. . . I don't know. I caught myself looking for him a lot, like, to see if he moved around the bleachers or something."

Michelle nodded, allowing you to continue.

"Okay, well. . . I don't know, dude," you continued. "You remember how we had crushes on each other freshman year? Well—I don't think I have a crush on him, I swear—but I feel something. . . It's weird. He's one of my best friends but I know there's something stronger there."

She looked around the room thoughtfully, searching for a reply. "What do you feel?"

It was hard to think clearly and how to explain yourself; the only word that stayed in your head the entire time was his name. Peter, Peter, Peter.

You began rambling. As soon as the words left your mouth, you instantly forgot what they were, but that didn't stop you from talking. "Michelle, it's so weird. I've never really told you this but, remember when he had a crush on Liz? And when he ditched us for a while after that? I—I think I missed him. And not just as a friend. You know what, I don't know."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You shook your hands in the air as if you could shoo your thoughts away.

You continued. "I care about him as a friend and stuff, but I don't think how I've felt about him is how I feel about other people, like you or Ned. It's different. Like, I don't want to lose him. I don't want him out of my life."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You sighed. "When he was gone for the whole Stark Internship thing, it felt like I really lost someone. I mean, I don't have to talk to you or Ned for days—weeks, even—and I'll be fine. But when the same thing happened with Peter? I would feel so. . . lost."

Michelle nodded, staying attentive the entire time. There was a part of you that knew she wasn't high enough to forget any of this, though you were sure you wouldn't remember much.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked.

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. Peter, Peter. "What does it sound like to you? I don't know what I'm feeling is called, but it's definitely not just a friendly thing."

She stared at you for a moment, contemplating what to do next. "I'm not sure if this has anything to do with you two," she began, "but I think you should know. . . You know how you'd leave during lunch sometimes to go to the bathroom?"

You nodded, recalling the multiple occasions.

"Well," she continued. "Ned and I talked about it, and we noticed that Peter's not the same when you're gone, either. Like, he'd look so bored and would play games on his phone compared to when you're at the table and he'd never stop talking."

You imagined him doing so. "Huh."

"Yeah. . ." she said. "Let's just go to sleep, okay? Sleep on it, and I'll remind you whatever you forgot you said in the morning, alright? Then we can figure out what to do."

As soon as MJ said the word "sleep," you instantly realized how heavy your eyelids felt. You nodded at her proposal, and laid yourself down on the couch with her.

You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or if it was just that dark in the living room, but you were definitely thinking. You imagined the feeling of being brushed against Peter's body, whenever you sat next to each other or walked side by side in the school halls. He started driving recently, and for some reason you always got shotgun while MJ and Ned didn't hesitate to sit in the back. You could nearly feel your elbows touching when you both leaned on the console at the same time. You remembered the times he'd laugh around you, uncaring about how loud it might've been, as well as the fact that he said your name more times in one day than anybody else did in a whole month.

His absence sophomore year definitely put a strain on you. You loved Michelle and Ned to bits, but you were pretty sure you might've loved Peter in a different way.

Him being out of your life for that period of time was confusing but, at the same time, clearer than looking through a window. You managed to keep tabs on him even if it meant only scrolling through his Instagram or seeing how he'd hold himself across the hall. You knew then that you cared about that boy more than you ever cared for anyone else.

You were terrified of you two becoming more than friends because that meant you had a chance of it ending badly and never talking to him again. Staying friends meant staying safe.

It meant that you had more of a chance of him being with you, which is what you knew you always wanted. You knew you'd be happy, crush or not, as long as Peter was in your life the rest of the way.

Is that what it feels like to love?

You nervously rubbed your hands together, which gained odd looks from other students due to the warm New York weather. It was a few months after that fated night with Michelle, the day of the senior field trip. The entire senior class got to go into the city and do whatever they wanted for an entire school day.

Michelle coolly stood beside you, her hands in both her jacket pockets. "I'm excited," she admitted.

You squinted at her. "For what?"

An uncharacteristic smile broke her face. "You know! You're finally gonna confess your feelings to Parker. It's about time, honestly. Ned and I were beginning to think about calling off our deal we started freshman year—"

"Hey guys!" a voice chimed in from afar.

You gave MJ a look to stop talking about the subject, watching Ned and Peter walking towards you two.

"I am so excited," Ned said. You caught him giving Michelle a wink, which told you that she informed him of the "plan."

You would've groaned if Peter weren't standing right next to you.

"Me too!" Peter said obliviously. "I really want to check out that new pop culture museum."

A teacher announced for everyone to gather up and get inside the bus. The four of you sat in the back together, you and MJ sharing one seat while Peter and Ned were seated right in front of you.

"I'm scared of getting lost, honestly," Ned confessed a bit after the bus began moving.

Peter huffed his chest. "Don't worry, man! The internship," he winked at the three of you, "really let me get to know the city, so I'll know everywhere we go."

You and MJ rolled your eyes together. Peter had shared his secret about being Spider-Man with the two of you not too long after he got his license, only because his "spider senses were tingling" right before avoiding a crash.

"By 'everywhere' do you mean all the port-a-potty's?" you teased him.

Peter made a face. "That was one time! Ya use the bathroom once and that's when the paparazzi show up," he whispered to himself.

You were nervous for nearly the entire day due to the anticipation of confessing to Peter. It was hard figuring out when and where to do so; should you make a big deal out of it like one big crush proposal or just bring it up out of nowhere as if it were the most normal thing to say?

Decisions, decisions.

The four of you were inside the new Museum of Pop Culture, wandering around aimlessly with offhand remarks for everything in the exhibits.

"Guys," Ned said. He walked beside Michelle while you and Peter were behind. "The horror exhibit actually looks pretty scary."

You peeked through the glass doors, the exhibit on the other side. All you could see was red glowing from the ceiling, which did make Ned seem correct.

"Never fear," Peter whispered to the three of you. "Spider-Man is here."

Your group walked through the doors, instantly being met by speakers blasting screams and haunting music. The red lights from above were your only source of light, leading the way deeper into the exhibit.

"Oh," MJ said softly. "Y/N, don't look up."

Not many things scared you, but you knew that Michelle was well aware of what did.

Trusting her, you instinctively gripped onto Peter's upper arm and watched your feet move on the ground. You noticed he instantly tensed at the contact, his bicep tougher with your fingers barely able to wrap around it.

"It's alright, Y/N," Peter said, looking up to see what MJ was talking about. "It's not even that ba—ohmygod we're not walking that way."

He redirected you to the left after the exhibit opened up into a large room. You heard Ned and Michelle chuckle at Peter, who allowed the two of you to move in front of them.

"Dude," you heard Ned from behind. "It's just a bunch of hanging bodies wrapped like. . . mummies?"

Knowing you were well past whatever MJ told you not to look at, you raised your head and took in your surroundings.

"Oh," you said. "It's not that bad."

You looked to the right side of the room where Peter made a point not to cross and saw what Ned was talking about. You laughed, letting go of Peter's arm. "You call yourself Spider-Man? It's not even that scary."

All of you stopped and stood with one of the walls behind you, scoping out the exhibit.

"That's the one thing I don't like!" Peter complained.

Michelle walked over to the small area of fake bodies hanging from the ceiling, all of them covered with cloth and net. She poked it.

"It's fake, you dork," she said.

You and Ned followed her and saw the bodies made a maze, leading to an explanation on what movie that section was about. The three of you taunted Peter, walking into the maze.

The brunette puffed his chest. "Yeah, whatever."

He was last to go inside, the rest of you well ahead. There was a line of bodies between you and him, so you pushed the one closest to him.

Peter screeched.

"One thing!" he screamed. "That is the one single thing! I hate you guys!"

The rest of you broke out into laughter.

You were all seated in a McDonald's booth, leisurely eating your shared meals. You had assumed the same seating as you always did for lunch at Midtown.

You felt a kick from under the table. Looking up, Michelle gave you a pointed look.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she announced.

She scooted out of the booth and stood up.

"Oh yeah, me too." Ned said.

The two of them walked towards the back of the fast food restaurant.

So this was it.

How the hell were you going to do it? You didn't even know if Peter had any feelings more than platonic for you. What if all he felt was platonic? You would make things awkward, ruin your friendship, waste all that time for the past four years being one of his best friends for something non-mutual.

You could hear your heart beating through your eardrums. Your hand shook a little every time you raised a fry to your mouth.

You were terrified. You weren't sure if confessing would even be worth it. In a few months, high school would be over. You'd have no good reason to see any of your friends everyday again, nonetheless Peter by himself.

Maybe you've just been overthinking everything. It wouldn't have been hard to believe that your feelings came only from convenience of going to the same school, having the same class, eating at the same table.

You cared for him, but maybe that was all there was. It could just be an unconditional love, like loving a brother.

You shook your head at yourself. That wasn't it; you definitely did not think of Peter as a brother. Even a little graze against him made your senses go wild. Every time you had eye contact with him, you'd force yourself not to look away despite thinking he'd always have been able to look straight into your soul and know what you felt.

You always knew what he would say if he saw you do something stupid, and you were always excited to hear what he'd think about something that happened to you when he wasn't there. You'd be able to recognize his laugh a mile away, and being the cause of his smile made you feel light.

You knew he'd tell you the truth on which shirt looked better with which jeans and not just say you looked good no matter what. He'd make sure to take stray lint out of your hair and point out if you had something in your teeth.

You've had short crushes on other people, and you even dated some of them for an amount of time. They never made you feel the same way Peter did.

You remembered the feelings you had when you found out he went to homecoming with Liz Allen sophomore year. When you learned of his crush on her, it was a dull ache. But when you even saw them at the dance together? It pierced.

But you were still able to get back to the groove of your feelings after that.

Yeah, you might've been in love with Peter Parker. What took you four years to realize that?

"Hey, Y/N?"

Your head jerked up and you looked at him beside you. God, what were you going to do? Could you bring yourself to say it?

Shut up,you thought to yourself. Eventually, it'll be too late. Say it now.

Peter continued talking after you stayed silent.

"I know this is really out of the blue," he said. He put down the burger in his hands and faced you completely. "But I just want to say thank you for everything. We're gonna be graduating pretty soon and. . . I don't know. I just really appreciate you—and MJ and Ned—for sticking around."

You nodded your head, urging him to continue, nervous to hear what he had to say next.

"Things were really weird after I got bit by the spider and I still feel like shit for ditching you guys for a while. . . But thanks for letting me come back. I couldn't have ever imagined getting better people in my life than you three. Even if we go across the country for college or something, I really hope we can all stay friends. I love you guys, you know."

Oh.

You smiled at him like he did to you. Friends.

You cleared your throat. "I love you too, Pete."

57 notes · View notes

madshelley · 7 years

Note

gimmie a quick rundown of which scenes break your heart the most, i'm not sad enough and need the pain.

I love you and this is both the best and worstthing anyone has never asked me, because apparently, I have no clue what a “quick”rundown means. I also tried very hard tonot make this entirely about Armand and… I failed about midway through. Butin my defense, can you ever be sad enough? No, you can’t.

SO HERE’S THE TOP JUST-A-BIT-TOO-MANY LIST OFHEARTBREAKING VAMPIRE MOMENTS™:

- Louiskilling the Marquis, and both his and Lestat’s reactions to it. Louis draggingLestat to his abusive father’s bed and forcing him to speak forgiveness,despite the fact that Lestat is having an obvious meltdown (“He threw up hishands and let out a terrible roar of desperation. ‘Damn him! Kill him!’ he said.”/“Lestatdanced like the maddened Rumpelstilskin about to put his foot through thefloor”/ “Never had I seen him so weak and at the same time enraged”), thatLouis, in his lack of information, mistakes for impatience and indifference.Damn dysfunctional vampires with a thing for miscommunication. If only there was a scene with the two of themdiscussing this in a later book, it would probably make the list too. But,alas.

Rest of the list under cut because of excessively long post that no one’s going to read:

- Louisdumping Lestat’s ‘body’ in the bog.

“This is Lestat. This is all oftransformation and mystery, dead, gone into eternal darkness. I felt a pull suddenly, as if some force wereurging me to go down with him, to descend into the dark water and never comeback”.

For no other reason, but that I feelthis is the prime example of Louis’ tendency to be unable to take control ofhis life and stand up for himself and what he wants, ending up being a passive observerof the most tragic events of his life, lamenting them only when it’s too late.Oh, Louis.

-Armandlying to himself about his relationship with Marius.

“A love so strong hecouldn’t allow me to grow old and die. A love that waited patiently until I wasstrong enough to be born to darkness.”

-I don’t normally care about Madeleine, but thisquote shatters my heart on a daily basis, considering the context in which IwtVwas written.

“And cruelly, surely, I said to her, ‘Did you love this child?’

I will never forget her face then, the violence in her, the absolute hatred.‘Yes.’ She all but hissed the words at me. ‘How dare you!’ She reached for thelocket even as I clutched it. It was guilt that was consuming her, not love. Itwas guilt- that shop of dolls Claudia had described to me, shelves and shelvesof the effigy of that dead child”.

-Armandleaving Louis, unable to bear the loveless, cold partnership anymore, indespair and suicidal. Especially this part of the farewell speech:

“AndI believed I would gather you to me and hold you. And time would open to us,and we would be the teachers of one another. All the things that gave youhappiness would give me happiness; and I would be the protector of your pain.My power would be your power. My strength the same. But you’re dead inside tome, you’re cold and beyond my reach! It is as if I’m not here, beside you. And,not being here with you, I have the dreadful feeling that I don’t exist atall”.

Armand,the break-up line master. Jesus Christ.

-“Hebent down, pressing his head against my chest and holding my hand so tight thathe caused me pain. The room was filled with the flashing red light of thesiren, and then it was going away.

‘Louis,I can’t bear it, I can’t bear it,’ he growled through his tears. ‘Help me,Louis, stay with me’.”

- Theway IwtV ends in general, with no silver lining or sliver of hope. Lestat andArmand are dying, of old age and despair, Louis is continuing his existencelike a bloodless empty shell, seeing no possibility of recovery or light at theend of the tunnel, and there is no comforting cosmic reason anything is everhappening at all. Life is pain and youdon’t even die. No wonder IwtV is such a downer to the non-initiated.

- LittleLestat being beaten bloody by his father and brothers.

-“Andwhen we decided to go to Paris, I thought we would starve in Paris, that wewould go down and down and down. It was what I wanted rather that what theywanted, that I, the favored son, should rise for them. I thought we would godown! We were supposed to go down”.

- Armandbegging Lestat and Gabrielle to take him with them and them refusing. I’m notgoing to go into details, I feel this is an obvious one.

Exceptfor these gems:

“Maybeas the years pass, desire will come again to me. I will know appetite again,even passion. Maybe when we meet in another age, these things will not beabstract and fleeting. I’ll speak with a vigour that matches yours, instead ofmerely reflecting it”.

and

“Armandwas a small boy in the doorway, holding the backs of his own arms”.

Theconsistent implication throughout the series that Armand gets cold when he’supset does things to my heart.

- Armand’sadmonition to Lestat that fledglings are bound to despise their makers, simplybecause it’s not true, or at least it doesn’t seem to be in most cases. IsArmand projecting because he’s practically almost incapable of verbalcommunication at this point in his life which makes a hindered mind gift seemlike an unsurpassable obstacle in his mind? Or is he projecting because, onsome level, he knows his relationship with Marius was abusive and probablydoomed? (Spoiler alert: probably both.)

- Mariuscalling Armand his mistake.

-Lestat hearing Armand crying after he pushedhim off the roof:

“Maybe I imagined it, his lastinvitation, and the anguish after. The weeping. I do know that as the monthspassed he was out there again. I heard him from time to time just walking thoseold Garden District streets. And I wanted to call to him, to tell him that itwas a lie I’d spoken to him, that I did love him. I did.”.

- “Uglyfights, terrible fights, finally, Armand broken down, glassy-eyed with silentrage, then crying softly but uncontrollably as if some lost emotion had beenrediscovered which threatened to tear him apart”.

-“Evenin moments of the greatest jeopardy, I knew we would meet before I would befree to die.”

Tell me again how Armand’s suicideattempt in Memnoch was out of character.

-Lestatbelieving that Daniel would have left Night Island with him if he had askedhim. So much theoretical pain.

- It’sa pity that Daniel leaving Armand isn’t technically ~a scene, because that would make the top ofthe list.

- Everyscene in which Lestat is “haunted” by Claudia in TotBT. It’s not hard to seehow he made the connection between her and the Raglan episode, even with himnever straight-up admitting it to himself. Remember when Lestat still feltcrippling guilt for his worst actions, even subconsciously? Good times.

- David’sturning. But this is not the time to complain about this, it’s canon heartbreakappreciation time!

- Armand’ssuicide attempt in Memnoch the Devil. I’ve already elaborated on this way toomuch, but let’s take a moment to appreciate Lestat screaming Armand’s nameafter him. Take a moment. Thank you.

- Louisobjecting to Lestat being chained to the floor, but being completely dismissed.

- Theentire The Vampire Armand. I can’t let myself elaborate too much on this, as I’lljust be reciting the entire book. I can just open it to a random page and itwill probably be a Top Heartbreaking Vampire Moment:

Armand’sobvious exhaustion at the beginning of the book, that no one seems to respect. Himscolding himself and admitting to David he feels he’s going mad. A child silentlywishing for death so hard, that Marius heard it amongst the mental voices ofthe entire city. Armand’s entire “relationship” with Marius. Armand having a breakdownat seeing religious imagery, not yet being sure why he has that reaction. Meetinghis parents, especially the broken Ivan. The “Bridge of Sighs” metaphor, Jesus.The ashes of the Palazzo boys. The whole Riccardo horror. Armand trying toconceal his scarred face from Benji and Sybelle, putting all his energy intothe illusion. The shattering feeling of betrayal about the turning of Armand’s “children”by Marius, and Armand’s conviction that it was meant as punishment. Louis beingunable to conceal his relief and joy to see Armand alive. Armand’s bitter, hurtdismissal of his relationship with Daniel as doomed from the start. Armandadmitting that Sybelle and Benji had to coax him out of depressive episodes attimes. Man, did Anne go ham on the pain in this one. Why, mom?

- Specialmention to that one time Marius beat Armand out of “frustration” at him fortaking too long to emotionally get over his visit to Kiev, probably his mostblatantly abusive moment in the book.

“‘You’ve had enough time to grieve and to weep,’ hesaid, ‘and to reevaluate all you’ve been given. Now it’s back to work. Go tothe desk and prepare to write. Or I’ll whip you some more.’”

“He smacked me across the face. I was dizzy.”

Nice going, Marius.

- Secondspecial mention to this little passage, because no one ever talks about it andit makes my heart bleed:

“ I looked off, wanting the quiet, dreamingof bowers suddenly, not in words but in images, the way my old mind would doit, wanting to lie down in garden beds among growing flowers, wanting to pressmy face to earth and sing softly to myself”.

- Thirdspecial mention to this, but only out of context:

“For all the wrongs done you, andthe loneliness you’ve suffered, and the horrors that the world put upon youwhen you were too young and too untried to know how to fight them and then toovanquished to wage a battle with a full heart”.

- SeeingDaniel in Blood and Gold after all those years. The shock of the degree inwhich his mental stability deteriorated, not objecting to being kept by Mariuslike a child. The terrifying possibilities of how he might have ended up therein the first place. The even more terrifying possibility that it might havebeen the news of Armand’s “death” that pushed him over the edge. How Armandmust have felt about this ‘relationship’.

- I am definitely not done, and yet I’m going to stop ‘cause even I had enough.

Tl;dr: Sad Vampires.

#that took me so long to type with only my left hand #worth it? worth it #the vampire chronicles #monstersinthecosmos

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