#and i love how almost every scene of the team has the two of them goofing off together in the background | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

e-vay · 4 months ago

Text

SONIC 3 REVIEW

I wanted to wait a few weeks to give many people the chance to see Sonic 3 before I wrote a review, but of course I'll keep it under the cut for those who still haven't seen it.

DISCLAIMERS!

I acknowledge that the Sonic Cinematic Universe is a SEPARATE interpretation of the Sonic franchise so I will never dock it points for doing things different than we've seen in the games. These movies are inspired by the Sonic the Hedgehog video games, they are not direct adaptations. I have no sympathy for anyone who complains these movies get things 'wrong' about the games.

I acknowledge that the Sonic movies are family films marketed towards children, so some of the writing and plot devices are simplified or toned down for younger audiences. However, that won't stop me from pointing out some plot holes.

My review is just my opinion. I'm not saying I'm right or that you're wrong if you disagree.

I'm so damn excited to finally talk about it and I have SO MUCH to say, so buckle up!

TL;DR: I give Sonic 3 a score of 9/10, just barely shy of being an absolutely perfect movie! There were some editing choices and some plot holes that made me dock minor points. These nitpicks are small and almost insignificant compared to the whole of the film, but they stood out enough to bother me and they're why I can't give it a perfect rating.

Let's start with the positives.

CAST & CHARACTERS - 10/10

TL;DR - With a star-studded cast, it's almost impossible to say any one actor/character outshined the others. Every single person was on their A-game for this movie and gave emotional, hilarious, all-out performances.

Jim Carrey as both Ivo and Gerald Robotnik is genius! He plays both characters so differently that you could almost believe they were being played by two different people -- minus the tongue-in-cheek way the movie reminds you that they're the same person.

This iteration of Gerald is unlike any we've seen before, which kept me on my toes the entire time I was watching. He comes onto the scene fully claiming that he's a villain, but still he manages to suckerpunch you (and Ivo) with the final reveal of his ultimate plan. You would think that the same old man who was just doing a choreographed dance performance 20 minutes ago couldn't tear your heart out without even the use of words when we see him mourning the loss of his granddaughter, and then fill you with spine-chilling terror as he uses his whole chest to exclaim he's going to 'burn it all down!', but damn did Jim Carrey do that and more! This movie (and Jim Carrey alike) managed to make Gerald both the major comic relief of the movie AND simultaneously made him one of the most despicable villains in the franchise so far. His utter lack of compassion for Shadow or Ivo, using both of them as his puppets, really shows you how little this man values even those who are supposed to be closest to him. I encourage you to rewatch the movie and really appreciate the dynamic range we were given of this character in under a 2 hour window.

Ivo is back and better than ever, baby (despite what Tails says)! Though I liked the initial, unexpected take on his character in Sonic 1, it has been beyond satisfying to see the evil doctor's descent into madness, all culminating into THE Eggman we recognize from the games! Seeing him in the iconic Eggman suit was like seeing my baby in her gown for prom. I was one proud mama! Sonic 3 sends Ivo on an emotional rollercoaster and we not only get to see him the silliest he's ever been, but your heart truly breaks for him by the end of the film. Honestly, I'm still gutted over Gerald's "Ivo, you're no Maria" line! One thing I particularly loved is that repeatedly throughout this franchise, Ivo has mentioned how society has always rejected him, he's had nobody who loves him (except Stone ofc) and he's repeatedly reminded he's a failure. Yet at the end of this film, he's given the chance to live up to his real potential and Team Sonic (and Shadow (and all of Earth while we're at it)) wouldn't have stood a chance without him. With Ivo seemingly dead, this was a heartfelt, tearjerking, beautiful sendoff for Eggman in a way that doesn't feel forced and gives Jim Carrey the chance to excuse himself should he decide he no longer wants to be a part of the future movies. BUT if he does decide to come back (and it's sounding like he does) -- c'mon, y'all don't really think Shadow would have just left Eggman to die, do you? He absolutely could have teleported them both outta there at the last minute.

SHADOW. 👏👏👏 This was without a doubt, the BEST depiction of Shadow I have ever seen! Keanu Reeves and the animators put everything into this rendition of Shadow and I was moved to tears on several occasions. This movie gave us an emotional, heartbroken Shadow who doesn't mask his feelings. Even before losing Maria, we see that Shadow is someone who struggles with understanding who he is, where he comes from and what his purpose is. He's subjected to constant testing and when he's not 'in use,' he's seemingly stowed away in the dark for later. It isn't until Maria shows up and befriends him that we get to see that he's just a regular person. He's curious about music and dancing, he enjoys play and stargazing, he's self-conscious. And then the transformation he takes after being betrayed and losing his loved ones, UGH! Keanu Reeves freaking NAILS it in every single scene! One of the moments that stood out the most to me and physically gave me goosebumps was when Shadow begins to question if destroying the planet is what Maria would have wanted and Gerald convinces him to focus on the pain that was left from her death. When Shadow's charging the Eclipse Cannon and reliving the most devastating moment of his life, you can hear his rage just in the way he's breathing! Keanu Reeves doesn't even speak any words in that scene but I could feel every drop of anger and regret and hatred in his performance. But also he delivered some very funny lines too and at least to me, it didn't feel forced. I also really liked that Keanu Reeves did research for this character and actually 'created' a voice for Shadow instead of using his normal voice. (I strongly recommend watching this clip where he talks about how he came up with 'the voice'. It's fascinating and such a delight). I think a lot of people might have initially thought having him voice Shadow was cool but kind of a joke, but he took the role very seriously and I feel he made an effort to separate himself from Shadow. His voice scratched my brain in the most satisfying way lol. I wish he could permanently voice Shadow from now on, but at least I can always imagine his voice whenever I read or play any Shadow content. Also, Shadow's character model was GOR-GEOUS. He was so handsome and badass and also I love, love, LOVE the amount of contrast between him and Sonic. EVEN DOWN TO THE DETAILS IN THE TEXTILES OF THEIR GLOVES. Sonic's gloves appear to be cotton so they're soft and warm and porous -- a fabric that comforts and lets things in. Shadow's gloves are leather -- a fabric that's firm, resistant, impenetrable. SO MUCH thought and detail went into designing Shadow. AND SUPER SHADOW OH MYGOOOODDDDDDDD. He looked like an angel! I have always loved Super Shadow's platinum design in the games, but giving him the extra detail of iridescent and rose gold quills in the movie was so freaking beautiful. I truly can't fault a single thing about him in this movie. A thousand kisses to Keanu Shadow.

TEAM SONIC. That's right, I'm addressing the group here because this movie really treated each member of Team Sonic as equals and I loved it. Sonic may be the leader, but Knuckles packed this movie full of action, heart and laughs. Idris Elba and the writers found a great balance for Knuckles in that he delivered what I thought were some of the funniest lines of the film, but it didn't lessen the impact of his more serious scenes. When Knuckles is arguing with Sonic about using the Chaos Emeralds, there is so much tension and I feel like they really nailed the gravity of that fight. Knuckles ultimately chooses not to battle Sonic, but I felt that him reminding Sonic of their oath and pointing out that Sonic is breaking it was actually MORE of a punishment than a punch to the face. We also really got to see Knuckles 'THE GUARDIAN" in this movie which I greatly appreciated. We see a lot of Knuckles "the fighter" where he's quick to throw fists, but there were many moments in Sonic 3 where he got to serve as a proper protector. I cried when he caught Sonic and Tails and even after they're safe he's just holding them, the three of them a battered mess in the cornfield! AH MY HEART!

Speaking of my heart-- Tails you good boy! Tails showed so much growth between Sonic 2 and Sonic 3 and I was so proud of him! He's still cute as can be and still has moments of childlike wonder, but he played a significantly larger role in this movie and showed a lot of maturity. He's quick to come up with plans but he is also actually in the action instead of shouting from the sidelines. I also really liked that during the bleakest part of the film, it's actually Tails who is trying to console Sonic about what's happened to Tom. You know things are bad when it's the baby sibling who attempts to be the emotionally strong one and comfort the older sibling. And I love that it's Tails and Knuckles who help Ivo to steer the Eclipse Cannon away from the Earth. It would have been easy to just sideline them and have them hope that Super Sonic and Super Shadow could handle things, but that diminishes the value of Team Sonic. The movie made it very clear that their teamwork is what made them so strong and it was through all of their combined efforts that the Earth was saved in the end. Sonic and Shadow could not have done it alone, even with the combined power of the Chaos Emeralds. I feel like a broken record by saying this but it has to be said: Colleen O'Shaughnessey killed it as Tails yet again. Go queen!

This might come as a surprise to some, but the Sonic in this movie is my favorite we've seen throughout the SCU franchise so far. I have heard people criticize that Sonic was a little 'boring' or 'underwhelming' during the first 2 acts of the movie, but I actually perceived that as intentional by design. At this point in Sonic's life, he's used to the whole hero thing. He's saved the world multiple times by now so it makes sense to me that he's become complacent and doesn't really take the time to consider how potentially dangerous a threat can be (I mean think about it, he nearly gets lasered-to-death via the forcefield at G.U.N. Headquarters just because he had to be a silly goof and do a tour of London NOW of all times! Yes it's funny and in-character and I still loved that scene ((and loved that it gave Tails a shining moment to save him)), but c'mon Sonic you almost fucked up the entire plan because you just had to do your goofy thing!). So when Shadow shows up and kicks his ass not once, but MULTIPLE times--and then he nearly loses his father figure TWICE--it serves as a rude awakening. He learns that there is a price to pay for being blasé, underestimating the gravity of a situation and not sticking to a plan, and that's where he dramatically overcompensates and goes on a vengeful arc. And vengeful Sonic is FUCKING. FANTASTIC. I think we as an audience can forget how lethal Sonic can be because he's normally so playful and silly, so to see him lock in and not hold back is actually pretty terrifying (but in a great way!). Ben Schwartz was AMAZING in this portion of the movie. I find him to be one of the funniest comedians on the planet, but I couldn't believe it was the same guy during this act. He dug deep and gave such a compelling performance full of anguish and hatred that I honestly didn't realize he was capable of. But most importantly--he was able to rein it in when it mattered most and Sonic didn't lose himself before it was too late. Sonic is not a perfect character, but one of the things that makes him such a great hero is that he always manages to hold on to the light that's inside of him. I always appreciate Sonic's motivational speeches and I loved that when he's having the heart-to-heart with Shadow, the emphasis is about who you are and the good that comes from the love you have for others. It's heavy and important but was delivered in a way that was easily digestible for younger viewers without diminishing the meaning of the message. However, what I found even more moving in this scene was the moment of silence that Sonic and Shadow share on the moon. It was so poignant and I'm glad they held that moment of stillness and quiet. By the end of the movie, we do get our loveable Sonic back but he acknowledges the mistakes he made and regrets putting everyone in danger because of his reckless decisions. Each movie builds up his character more and more and I think as long as they don't backpedal, Sonic's in store for some incredible things! ALSO! Just like I said with Shadow, I freaking LOVED Sonic's character model in this one! I love that we are seeing him physically growing up and maturing instead of being forever stuck in place (no shade to the games). This character model is SO much taller and stockier than the model in Sonic 1 and is evidence that not only is he emotionally maturing, but he's physically aging up as well. It's just so cool!

I absolutely adored Alyla Browne's portrayal of Maria in this movie! She was so charming and instantly loveable the moment she was onscreen. I've noticed many people highlighting the part where she draws the bunny face on Shadow (which I love) but even the seconds before that where she mocks his scowl INSTANTLY won me over. And she even gets Shadow to smile because of it! The smile is small and only visible for a few frames, but it's there! It was clear that this girl saw more to this alien than a menacing, dangerous little space demon and wasn't gonna put up with his charade. It's no wonder the two of them became fast friends. I don't know about you, but I have been STARVED of ARK Sibling content since Shadow's very first introduction so I was obsessed with every single scene we got of the two of them actually getting to spend time together. I do love drama but so far all we've seen is the ARK tragedy and rarely any of the highlights before that event. Yes the SCU is a different universe, but this filled a hole in my heart that I've been waiting on for years. It did not disappoint!

I also want to highlight Agent Stone. Listen, I've loved Lee Majdoub since Sonic 1, but his character is at his best in this movie. Agent Stone was proper badass in Sonic 3 and proved that he's far more than just a simple henchman. It's revealed that with Ivo sulking and remaining in hiding, Stone has stepped up and is constantly monitoring what's going on in the outside world and immediately jumps into action when he notices the doctor's tech being used by someone else. Eggman wasn't even aware of it and yet Stone is out there shutting it down and bringing back reinforcements to clear Eggman's name! That super suit?? And those MOTORCYCLE TRICKS?? And him dodging a freaking ROCKET like it ain't no thing??? Hell yeah, Stone! Lee Majdoub is so funny and I love how he can be so quiet and stoic around Eggman ( "Resourceful.") but he can also be so over the top like when he's mocking the hell out of Knuckles ("Įt'Ŝ 𝕋𝒽𝒆 ⓖ𝓸Ａ𝐓 𝔪𝕀ŁҜє𝓡!... Relax.") and both just work so well! I think it's further evidence of why he makes such a good partner for Eggman because they're both capable of some intense power but they're also both such weirdos. I loved the amount of emotion and vulnerability Stone had in this movie. He's always had an allegiance to Eggman and even in Sonic 2 we saw how much he missed the doctor while he was away and how enthusiastic he was when he learned he was alive, but it went a lot deeper in this film. We got to learn that there's a much stronger affinity there and Stone legitimately cares about Robotnik and supports him through thick and thin. Personally, I ship Stobotnik, so this movie gave me plenty of delicious food! But even if you don't ship it, I think it was so significant to show the depth to Stone and Robotnik's relationship and I believe that it was Stone's affection for the doctor (romantic or platonic) that ultimately made Eggman save the world in the end. Though I'm still hoping for Jim Carrey to come back, I think they set things up so Stone could take up the EggMantle in a seamless way and I sure wouldn't be mad about it!

[Allow me to pause for a deep inhale of breath...]

Ä̷͇̰̞́Ȁ̷̭̩̰̔͐Ấ̶̝̗̠A̴͉͗A̵̳̠̚ͅA̵̫̋Ḿ̴͕Y̴̨̯̆Y̷͖͍̜̓͝Ỹ̵͍̺͑̕Y̸̜̫̆͋͋Y̶͕̫̱̾̐!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭💖💖💖💖💖💖😘😘😘😘😍😍😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 My beloved! My most darling angel! My reason for waking up in the morning! SHE MADE IT! Amy is my favorite character of all time and I told y'all I was gonna throw up if she wasn't in this movie, so you'd better believe I SCREAMED when her hammer appeared in the post-credits scene! When she walked up and pulled back the hood of her cloak I was in tears and I was TREMBLING! I'm sure they're going to make changes to her once they finalize her design for Sonic 4, but this reveal was so freaking good and got me so excited for the next movie. Her character model is already so beautiful and I love that they turned the tables and have her rescuing Sonic this time! I cannot wait to see what they have in store!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Metal Sonic was cool too btw)

ACTION - 10/10

TL;DR - Highspeed fun that has you on the edge of your seat for every single minute of screen time!

This movie is NONSTOP. I wasn't bored for a single second and by the time we hit the credits I couldn't believe how much time had passed. Every fight scene was so perfectly choreographed and so RAMPED UP that it had me stunned. There's a joke early in the movie that Sonic/Tails/Knuckles' antics are capable of cataclysmic events but the movie delivers on that promise a multitude of times! From city-wide power outages to mini-black holes to volcanic eruptions, there's no shortage of chaos and action in this movie!

You guys. The first time I saw this movie, I was at a prescreening so I was among critics and people from the media instead of a group of fans. It took EVERYTHING WITHIN ME to contain my glee. I was PHYSICALLY BALLED UP, knees pulled to my chest, palms pressed to my face to try to stay quiet. My heart burst through the roof of my skull! Even when I went to go see it for a fourth time, my heart was still racing. I actually had my friend feel my pulse as proof. This movie just gets you so excited it's insane!

The fact that the movie BEGAN with Shadow's breakout... god bless it. God bless everyone who worked on it. It was so intense and heartpumping! And I loved the choice to have little-to-no music during Shadow's fight with the soldiers. It just added to the tension and didn't give you any hint of when and where Shadow was going to teleport next. This was basically a scene from a horror movie! It set the entire tone for the film and showed that Shadow was NOT to be messed with.

I seriously could describe how much I loved every action scene but I will be here forever so I won't, but I have to say-

THE ✨SUPER✨ SCENES. OH. MY. 🎶GO~~~~OD🎶!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had high hopes and expectations we were going to see Super Shadow in this one, but never in my lifetime did I think we were going to finally see Super Sonic VERSUS Super Shadow!!! Holy hell, what a fight! We get to finally see what two god-mode characters are capable of when they're out to kill each other and aren't showing any mercy. EACH PUNCH LAUNCHING THE OPPONENT ACROSS THE FREAKING PLANET?!??!?? That editing choice in particular is one of my absolute FAVORITE things about this movie. There's a million ways this fight could have been done but showing just how fast and how strong these two are--- even causing the earth to split open and erupt just from one of them pushing off the ground--really shows just how minuscule and inferior us humans are hahaha. We wouldn't stand a freaking CHANCE. AND SONIC PUNCHES SHADOW TO THE MOON?!

ALSO THEY EACH TOOK TURNS PUNCHING THE SUPER OUT OF EACH OTHER!???!!!

I'm having to pause as I'm writing this because even though I've seen this movie four times I'm still getting so worked up just thinking about these action scenes again that I'm struggling to breathe omg

Even better than Super Sonic VERSUS Super Shadow was that final team up. That CLAP and they both turn super had me WEAK. I just about fainted right then but thank god I didn't because that entire sequence was INCREDIBLE. That little exchange of Sonic saying "Ready to recycle some tin cans?" and Shadow rolling his shoulder and saying "Try to keep up" before launching into a flurry of attacks is TATTOOED ON MY BRAIN. It will never leave my mind. It gave us SA2 and MORE. The battle was a masterpiece and it's something that words truly can't describe, you just have to witness it in all it's glory. I will never be normal about that fight scene.

One more moment I want to highlight because it shows action in nontraditional ways -- I am infatuated with the way they depicted Eggman and Shadow's last moments of saving the earth from the Eclipse Cannon. There was just something in the slow, labored movements that Jim Carrey made to show him attempting to block the explosions with shields, and the quietness of Shadow pushing the exterior of the ship with his hands and the metal is just crushing under his palms from the force. It isn't a moment of fast punches or flashing lights but it was so damn powerful and I absolutely loved it.

VISUALS - 10/10

TL;DR - Stellar effects and cinematography not only make for a delightful experience for your eyes but further immerse us into this fictional world.

WOW! I already touched on this in my above notes but seriously this movie was just beautiful. The character models were so good and felt real despite being cartoons (which goes to show you don't need them to look hyper-realistic to convince me it's a living creature). The lighting and the framing of shots were not only visually appealing but helped further the emotions of the scenes. The neon lights bouncing off Shadow in the rain as he's slowly walking down the streets of Shibuya was a WORK OF ART. Even all the moments of chaos and destruction were portrayed so well and so crisp that not only were they beautiful to look at -- I could actually tell what was going on! I watch a lot of action films and it gets so frustrating when there's so many explosions, lens flares, camera whips, etc that I can't actually make out what's happening. I never had that problem in this movie!

FAN SERVICE - 10/10

TL;DR - No, not that kind of fan service. This was a film FOR the fans!

I already said that the cinematic universe is clearly separate from the game universe. However, there were so many delightful little treats for fans of the games that felt like all the creators of this movie reached out and hugged me and said "This is for you!" BLESS! I won't list out all the Easter eggs and scene-recreations because there are too many, but man the joy I felt in sitting there and thinking "I KNOW THAT REFERENCE!" was healing to my soul. I figured "Live and Learn" was going to show up in some way because we heard the tune in the trailer, but I didn't realize how often and in how many different ways it would play throughout the movie! Starting out the movie with a memory of Maria playing "Live and Learn" on the guitar had me clutching my chest and I knew I was gonna be emotionally wrecked by this film! I loved the orchestral version of the song during the final battle which took an already badass theme and made it even more epic, but I do love that they included a snippet with the original lyrics too.

I don't know why people get so upset with these movies not being 100% like the games when it's clear that the people who work on these movies care so much about the games and want to reward us fans who love the games, too. Think about the scene where Shadow goes to push the Eclipse Cannon and he removes his inhibitor rings. That was specifically for us fans. The movie never explains what his inhibitor rings are or what they do or why he's removing them. Not knowing what the inhibitor rings are doesn't detract from the movie--but if you play the games you KNOW the significance of that moment. That was written and animated FOR YOU to enjoy. What's not to love about that???

DRAMAAAA~

Again, I know these SCU movies are marketed as family films and are more aimed for children, but I love that the movies are evolving and 'maturing' over time instead of repeating the same simple formula of some children's movies. With each Sonic movie that comes out, the themes and story are getting deeper and heavier without losing it's whimsy and fun. It's done in a way that feels like a natural progression and growth and I don't think the heavier subject matter will deter anyone who watched the previous two movies.

⭐BONUS POINTS!⭐

This is a hot take and I know many people are gonna disagree, but I was so pleased with there being LESS focus on the humans in this story (minus the Robotniks+Stone, of course). I do not care about the Wachowskis. I do not care about the Whipples. I understand why they were initially in the movies and I understand that Sonic considers the Wachowskis as his parents now, but I don't go to these movies to see the humans attending weddings or doing other sideplot shenanigans. I'm here for the aliens, damn it! So to have the humans' appearances mostly diminished to scenes that specifically related to the main plot was a huge relief to me!

THANK YOU SONIC 3.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I could talk endlessly about this movie and even though I've written what feels like an entire essay there's still tons I'm leaving out, but to try to move this review along I'm going to move on to the negatives. Again, none of these below items were enough to ruin the movie for me and individually they aren't even worth a full point as far as a review. But ultimately these are things that I couldn't shake after watching and it's why I felt I had to dock the movie a single point in total.

EDITING WHIPLASH

I've already complimented this movie by several of the editing choices that were made, but there's one moment in particular that totally took me out of it and I'm sure you can guess what I'm going to say... Yes, it was the frequent cutting between the Super Hedgehogs and the Robotniks. Don't get me wrong -- individually these scenes were great. Ivo versus Gerald was hilarious and I did enjoy it and yes it was important to the plot -- but how DARE you interrupt my Super Sonic and Super Shadow fight with mustache wrestling! Whiplash is the best word I can use to describe how I felt in this moment. Sonic and Shadow fighting all of the robots and lasers to get to the Cannon was so dynamic and so intense and so spectacular, that when it suddenly cut away to Eggman getting spanked by a giant mech hand, I felt like I just got slapped across the face. My heart had just been racing so fast and then you cut away? Then I'm starting to calm down and just enjoy the Robotnik fight for the silliness but then it cuts BACK to the epic power of Sonic and Shadow --- and you do it AGAIN?! It just killed me!

I saw an edit somebody made where they spliced all of the super fight scenes together and removed the Robotnik fight and as you can imagine, it was infinitely better. You actually had the time to be fully enraptured by the battle and get to absorb every awesome second of it.

The Robotnik fight was still necessary (and yes, even the way they killed Gerald was hilarious to me and I still laugh even now) but they really should have edited this part of the movie better in my opinion.

PLOT HOLE -- ARE WE MISSING PART OF THE SCRIPT?

Although I think the writing for this movie was overall great, I felt there were key elements missing from the G.U.N. plot line that was meant to drive the narrative. This led me to think... was there a deleted scene and the filmmakers thought nobody would care/question it? Here are the things that I felt the movie did not clearly address:

1: Why are Team Sonic and Commander Walters close allies now? G.U.N. and Walters were previously antagonists in these films. Yes, at the end of Sonic 2 Commander Walters gives up his goal of capturing Sonic, but surrendering isn't the same as forming a partnership. Why is Team Sonic on-call for G.U.N. missions at Walters' requests all of a sudden? Then there's the scene in the Chao Garden. Why do Team Sonic and Walters meet up without anyone else from G.U.N. knowing about it? Why does Sonic trust Walters more than the rest of G.U.N.? I understand Sonic is a hero and especially in these movies he likes to see the good in people, but throughout these movies Walters ALWAYS lies. In Sonic 2, not only does Walters/G.U.N. fabricate an entire wedding as a sting operation to capture Sonic, but Walters lies when he claims that G.U.N. was formed because of Sonic's misadventures in San Francisco. In Sonic 3 we learn that G.U.N. was around for Project Shadow in the 70s. Nobody calls him out on this. Even in the Chao Garden scene, Walters is lying to Sonic about Shadow's history! He tells Sonic that Maria was killed in a terrible accident and Gerald was blamed for it. It was no accident! Soldiers showed up with guns and when Walters tried to stop them, they said "We have our orders." Sure, shooting the canister of chaos energy was not the intention and so the explosion itself was an accident, but those soldiers had every intent on taking Maria and Gerald out (if not Shadow as well). I'm sure Walters left that detail out to keep Sonic from asking further questions, but that makes him all the more of an unreliable storyteller and someone Sonic should NOT trust.

2: Why doesn't Walters trust G.U.N.? When Walters is injured in the Chao Garden attack, he gives Sonic one of the keys to the Eclipse Cannon and tells him that Sonic's the only person he trusts to keep it safe. Walters is the commander of G.U.N. -- surely he would trust a member of his team to hold onto the key, right? And if he doesn't, WHY? If you watched the Knuckles series then you know that there are indeed rogue members of G.U.N., but people watching the movie don't know that. Walters telling Sonic to keep the key safe from everyone suddenly puts Sonic on heightened alert and makes him believe he can't trust anyone, but we aren't given a reason why. Even if Walters simply had a line saying "I worry there's corruption in G.U.N." then I would have been satisfied.

3: Why is Team Sonic stealing the second key? Once the Team learns that there is a second key to the Eclipse Cannon and that the Robotniks are planning to steal it, they devise a heist to steal the second key themselves. Why? Walters didn't tell Sonic about a second key or tell him to retrieve the second key. Doesn't that mean Walters believes the safest place for the second key is where it's currently stored: at G.U.N. headquarters? Team Sonic knew Robotnik was en route, so the wisest option would have been to alert G.U.N. so they could heighten security and be on the lookout (which turns out, they already were). Again, all of this would make sense if Sonic was given an explicit reason to not trust G.U.N. and was specifically told to keep the keyS away from them, but at this point he went from trusting them to suddenly trying to take both keys from them. I loved the heist scenes and I don't want them removed, I feel they just need justification.

4: What is Director Rockwell's problem? It's clear that Rockwell is not a fan of Team Sonic (some people just can't trust aliens) but it seemed her character was going a certain direction and then just... stopped. After Walters is killed, the first thing she does is check his pocket for the key. Surely Walters would have known that Director Rockwell would have checked his pockets, especially since she was in Tokyo at the time of his death, again going back to my question of why he wouldn't trust her to retrieve the key instead of handing it over to Sonic? I was fully expecting a reveal of her being a rogue agent, especially because Team Sonic was still trying to take the second key even after the Robotniks had been thwarted. Think about it -- G.U.N. has stopped the Robotniks (and Team Sonic) from stealing the second key. That was the whole point, right? So why is Tom now trying to take the key FROM Rockwell? Isn't the key safely where it belongs and the Robotniks are supposedly in custody? So again, was there a reason Rockwell wasn't meant to be trusted, but we just don't know? I really felt like she was being set up to be a villain, but it led nowhere.

Now a lot of the elements I just addressed can be inferred and we can use context clues to guess, but I think it's the writers' job (especially in a family film) to make it clear why characters are making the choices/decisions they're making, at least by the time you reach the end of the movie. I know some stories are more ambiguous than others, but to me it felt like something was missing. I guess we'll see if there's anything hidden in deleted scenes.

FINAL THOUGHTS

As a whole, I absolutely loved this movie and I am so thankful it exists. I can't wait for Sonic 4 and I hope it receives just as much hype, love and attention that this movie did! If you read my entire review, thank you! I hope you enjoyed it, even if you didn't agree with all of it :)

#sonic movie 3 #sonic 3 #sonic movie #spoilers #sonic movie 3 spoilers #sonic movie spoilers #sonic 3 spoilers #sonic cinematic universe #scu #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #review #movie review #my reviews #long post

286 notes · View notes

eveningepiphany · 8 days ago

Text

only would happen to us | H.S oneshot

summary: you and harry just got stuck up on the tower bridge in london and it’s clear sometimes feelings are just too hard to ignore

warnings: smut! bandmate harry, fluff, heights, unplanned confession, making out, trying to hide it from everyone, REALLY CUTE CAR SCENE, tension, fingering, dirty talk, vague reference to choking, protected p in v sec, talk of unprotected sex, frat boy harry just being too hot.

a/n: this is a longer smutshot with a bit of plot, took me MONTHS of coming back and forth from this draft, but it’s so so cute I think you’re gonna love these two!

not heavily edited, may be some typos, just want to post it so bad and its 2am HAHA

———

A deep, almost shaky exhale passes through your lungs and out past your lips. Your own numb hands coming to your waist underneath the thick knitted sweater that hung baggy over your frame, meeting the tight harness fitted over your jeans. It was so cold outside that with each breath out, there was a pale cloud that got puffed out with it. The kind you’d see on a crisp morning while walking to school as a kid, and pretend you were exhaling a long drag of a cigarette.

It’s weird to see something such as the air from deep in your lungs in a way you never normally do. Something that is typically invisible, in the exact right conditions, can be suddenly tangible. The air you exhale always there, regardless of whether you can see it or not. But on a night like tonight it’s no longer able to be ignored.

How one individual might perceive it can be starkly different to another. What is perhaps an annoying reminder of the cold to one person— is a thrilling reminder of their state of aliveness to another.

You believe in the latter. Despite it highlighting how freezing cold you feel, it makes your heart sing. Right now, you’re alive, living in this very moment. Your breath is the very proof that you’re here, experiencing something few other people understand.

The mosaic of London city lights can be seen all around you, reflecting on the swell of water that consumes the far drop below your feet.

Gratitude floats through your mind at the tight harness wrapped around your middle, attaching to the safety line behind you. Otherwise just looking down would make you loose your balance, and that's not a fall you want to experience.

Filming music videos, you’ve learnt, is no joke. Considering you’re 200 feet in the sky above the river Thames on London’s most famous bridge.

“M’pretty sure I’ve just frozen my balls off.” Louis shivers out, earning a snort from Liam who has his hands shoved under his arms— in attempt to warm them up— beside him.

The camera crew have filmed the shots planned, and a few extras for behind the scenes footage, but everything that needed to be taken has now been ticked off, and the rest of the team are beginning to get ready for the band to come back down.

“And here i was just thinking how surreal it is to be up here,” You sigh out with sarcastic whimsy, “Louis sure knows how to put it into words…”

Niall pipes in, “Best view in the whole city and Louis is talking about his junk.”

Everyone up there let’s out a belly laugh at Niall’s quip. It’s an oddly touching moment. Just the six of you feeling like you’re on top of the world, laughing at a joke about Louis dick.

A very fitting theme for a bunch of still-teenagers, you think to yourself. Heartwarming in its own odd way that makes you smile. Eyes flitting from the skyline in front of you back to the band, attempting to take in every small detail that’s painting the wondrous view ahead of you.

You’re glad you went up first, it means you can see all their faces at once when you look to the left. The toothy grins, lit up eyes, and red, wind kissed cheeks.

Especially Harry, who beside you, looks absolutely elated to be up there. The glimmer in his eye's is possessing an emotion in your chest that's admittedly different tonight in comparison to any other.

Maybe it was just your surroundings, but you’re convinced this is the most beautiful he’s ever looked. His brown curls were tousled back from the breeze, lips flushed from the cold. The big khaki jacket cast over his broad shoulders is bundling him up, yet he was still shivering slightly.

Somehow now— even in London's coldest months—his skin still appears tan. Like if you reached out and touched it, it would thrum with the warmth of his blood. A heat you want to settle into with your entire body and soul.

Forcibly, you have to tear your gaze away from him. Reminding yourself that he is your bandmate, and one of your best friends. Not someone for you to be staring at as if there was something to be entertained.

Besides, you’ve spent months gaslighting yourself into the belief it’s simply because you work together so closely. Of course your brain is trying to tell you that there’s something there!

Hell, you’ve heard the horror stories from your girls back home. Problematic shit almost always happens when they fuck around with male colleagues at their jobs. You’ve even said to them, “Is he hot, or is it just because he’s a guy at your work?”

And while your relationship with Harry is arguably a lot more personal than just two colleagues, surely the theory still applies— you’re only so attracted to him because you both work together. That’s it…

Not at all the fact he is definitely the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen.

Shaking your head— as if the physical movement will stop the internal battle between the voices in your head, you focus your eyes back to the city. Trying to memorise this beautiful sight instead, and commit each red set of break lights, and every yellow glow of someone’s window to the mental picture you’ve taken.

You wish you could know how many people are looking at the Tower bridge right now. If they have any idea that there’s 6 idiots up the top of it. It casts a familiar, deep set of wonder over you.

Are they cooking dinner, watching tv, or staring out at the world just like you? who are they with, why are they with them?

Just the notion that all the people in that city are out there, living a life as shockingly intricate, and beautiful as your own makes your heart clench. It’s a feeling you want to hold forever.

Harry notices from next to you the look on your face. He sees this look often, he knows how deep of a thinker you are. When your lips part in the slightest bit, displaying that sense of earnest shock— and your big eyes search the scene in front of them as if it might disappear on the very next blink.

You do it at airports, in every new city you visit, and onstage too— you do it almost everywhere, come to think of it.

His own mouth slants into a warm smile, even Niall has glanced over and shared a quiet chuckle at your ability to just slip into your mind every time something unreal happens to the six of you.

“Alright— we’re gonna get you guys down one by one!” A crew member's call pulls you out of your trance. Harry is almost sad to see the captivation on your face get snapped away in an instant, making him divert his attention away from you so he doesn’t get caught staring.

Given that you were the first of them to go up, you’d be the last to be lowered down. Zayn however was the last to go up, and arguably the hardest of everyone to convince to get up here.

Despite looking like he could conquer anything, and any challenge, he is scared easily of new things. Like going on a plane for the first time, or being lifted to the top of tower bridge and held by only a harness.

“Thank god—“ he sighs a chuckle, running an anxious hand through his hair as he slowly starts to shuffle along the narrow edge you’re all standing on.

“People pay good money t'do stuff like this, is the real kicker.” Liam nudges him, earning a playful eye roll from Zayn at his dig.

“Don’ get me wrong, s’beautiful, but im out of here. Back to solid ground where I belong.” He points to the mechanism that will lower him back down to the platform underneath where the crew is, hand then coming back to cling to the X shaped beams behind you all.

From what you were all told, it’s actually for maintenance… a large steel cage of sorts. One that’s clunky on the way up and down, and can’t carry more than two bodies a time— at best.

You hear the sigh of relief Zayn lets out as he steps onto the solid metal— sliding the carabiner out of the cable holding you all to the bridge. Waving a hand down to the crew to lower the lift, shouting down to them, “good to go, thank you lads!”

Once it’s back up, Liam goes down next, smiling pridefully as he gets onto the platform. Everyone knows this is a night you’ll all never forget.

Next is Louis, who does a salute to you all, “see you all on the other side,” leaving with a wink as he unclips himself once he’s in the cage.

Niall cleared his throat to shout, “Goodnight London, I bloody love ya!”

However, this is where things start to go awry. Because the platform doesn’t come back up as you and Harry had both been anticipating… causing you to both share a confused look as the final two up on the bridge.

“What the fuck…?” The two of you hear a worker cuss in annoyance, clear to you a slight commotion is going on below. It’s a very faint murmur of concerned, and also annoyed voices, that you’re straining to hear over the wind.

But suddenly Niall can be heard, loud and clear. Whatever it is can’t be that serious, because Niall is giggling? You and Harry both are leaning your heads to try and hear properly. Eventually he sounds like he’s having a full laughing fit, followed by a loud bellow of his amused tone that echoes all the way up to the two of you, “…So they’re stuck up there?”

Your heads snap to one another, locking eyes as you realise why the platform hasn’t come back up yet. Your cold hand comes over your mouth in shock trying to cover up your dropped jaw, warm breath ghosting over the red tips of your fingers.

“Fuckin— there’s no way…” Harry frowns, shaking his head, “He has to be tryin’ t’pull one over on us.”

"Gave the team 10 bucks t'act like its broken..." He murmurs to himself, pursing his lips as his head shakes in disbelief.

A part of you wishes that was the case, but your gut is telling you that its not. That sensation confirmed when your phone starts ringing in your back pocket.

Carefully, you pull it out of your pocket and glance to the screen, gesturing it over to Harry. Georgie, a part of your management team was calling you. He was a short, wiry red-haired man in his late thirties, who had a really lovely husband that would bake the band cookies with their son, Thomas.

With a sigh, you answer the call— putting it on speaker and shuffling closer to Harry so he can hear what he says.

Shoulder to shoulder, he leans his head down to listen, curls brushing the top of your head.

“Hello?” You say as you hear shuffling behind the phone, biting your bottom lip with your teeth as you wait for Georgie to actually talk to you.

Finally you hear him clear his throat with a short apology, “Okay— Y/N, Harry?”

He asks this as if it weren't abundantly obvious you were the only two people up there for him to be speaking to. It makes Harry palm his forward with a slight roll of his green eyes, “Georgie, what’s goin’ on?”

Annoyed look good on him, you thought. The way his brows pinched together and his lips formed a harsh line, jaw clenching tightly.

“Don’t panic but—“

“Oh, fucks sake, we’re gonna die up here, aren’t we?” You immediately interrupted, free hand coming up to your mouth as you take the nail of your thumb between your teeth.

“No, No!” He repeats, and you know he’s down there tapping his foot on the ground like he always does in conversations.

He’s either genuinely confident, or doing a really good job at faking it as he states, “All is well— just a minor inconvenience, is all…”

Harry and you say nothing though, waiting for him to fill the silence with an explanation of what exactly is happening down there.

“The cage lift has… uh,” his tone falters as he tries to find a way to explain the situation, “It’s had a bit of an issue. It’s not going up— we’ve got people on the way to fix it, so don’t worry.”

“They think it’s a combination of the cold night and the fact it’s not been used in a few weeks… but I promise we’re doing everything we can to get you guys down.”

Niall and Louis can be heard laughing in the back, and you feel at ease knowing the bridge isn’t about to collapse under your feet. You’re safe, just stuck up there for a little longer than planned.

“Wait till the media gets a hold of this,” Harry shakes his head, but a tiny relieved smile cracks now he also knows what’s going on— and likely at the boys cackling through the line.

“For now, just hold tight. I know it’s cold but atleast there’s two of you up there—“ you both shoot each other a confused look, “And I’ll call you when the blokes with their big tools are here to fix the lift and send it up…”

“Right… so in the meantime we just stay up here. On the top of a 200ft ledge?” You clarify, stupefied at the situation you've landed yourself in.

“Uhm, yep… I’ll call you guys back when I know more.” He replied curtly, before bidding a quick goodbye and hanging up.

Given the height you’re situated at, you don’t waste any time tucking your phone safely back into the pocket of your jeans. Glancing over to Harry who is smiling out at the city, “At least you’ve got a bit more time to try and memorise all this, hey?”

“Or we’re living our last hours up here before we die of hypothermia…”

A chuckle comes from him, where he nudges your shoulder with his, “C’mon Y/N, I think they’d airlift us off the bridge before it came to that point.”

"Now that would be a news story about us," you slant your gaze to him, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his jacket, “And that's at least true, I'm just being dramatic considering the situation.”

His lips curve into a smile, shaking his head with amusement, “We’re gonna get the biggest I told you so from Zayn.”

The wind blows your hair in all directions as it randomly pushes a strong gust against you, making you reach up to try and tame it back down.

“Whose fucking idea was it to leave my hair down,” you complain, despite it actually being your own. Harrys own hand comes to try and brush it out of your squinted eyes, quietly humming, “y’shivering, love.”

The way he is so gently pushing the hair from your face, paired with the hushed pet name makes you look up to him, “And so are you…”

Internally, you are cursing. Cursing right now whatever greater force has planted your ass in this set of circumstances. Stuck up here, in arguably the most romantic spot you could be put into. Together. Right at the time the resolve you've tried so hard to maintain that Harry is 'just a friend', is starting to crash and burn.

“C’mere.” He says, the lilt in his accent is deep from the crisp air, casually wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling you towards him. Just the action alone makes your whole body heat up, and your praying your cheeks are already red enough to hide the blush that's creeping hot up your neck…

Your cheek meets his shoulder, nose bumping his collarbone as he tucks you in the space between his arm and his side, the hand around your waist splaying over the knit of your sweater. He smells so good, masculine… the scent woodsy, but with an undertone of warm spices. You try not to draw in an obvious inhale against the collar of his shirt.

You adored how close a connection two of you shared, but you also hated it. Hated it because there’s no hesitancy in the way his hand curls around your side and lets your body lean into his. The this is just what friends do mentality. Especially in a situation like this, where the action can simply be justified by that, and that alone. It kills you feeling him like this, warm and gentle against your cold body, and trying to pretend like it isn't currently making your insides squirm.

“If this ledge weren’t so bloody thin, I’d wrap you up with m’jacket.” He admits, looking down at you.

He cant help but unknowingly make it worse for you.

Lips forming a thin line, you try to bite back the smile that's forcing it's way onto your face. The image playing off in your mind no matter how hard you try to wipe it. Stood here, arms slid around his toned middle, meeting together at the small of his back. oh god...

Your own hands have unconsciously braced themselves on the outer edge of his jacket, gripping it for dear life as you try to calm your racing heart.

Eyes veering outwards as you look at the scene in front of you, “it’s okay... its cold, but at least its beautiful.”

His own eyes are trailing the profile of your face, heart thrumming underneath his chest as an almost welcome heat spreads through him. He’s made a mistake pulling you into him, he should’ve known he’d bitten off more than he could chew. That he’d want more, to feel more of you than he already is.

When suddenly nothing is more appealing than leaning down and nudging your nose with his, to let your head tilt for him, so he can press a warm kiss against your mouth.

“So beautiful,” he quietly parrots, but he’s not thinking about the view.

Forcing his eyes away from you, he clears his throat carefully. A tiny chuckle escaping in the silence that had enveloped the two of you as you stared out at the city.

“Only this would happen to us.” He suddenly says, and you feel him draw in a deep inhale. Confused in what context he means it, you turn your head to look up at him with a puzzled smile, “What do you mean?”

“I can almost bet a thousand bucks we are probably the first and only people t'ever have this happen t'them. Somehow I find it fitting.”

“Pretty special... if you think of it like that.” You mutter, nodding slowly.

“No one can even see us, and there's a whole city out there—“ he gestures out with his finger, “that doesn’t know we’re up here.”

A morbid laugh bubbles from your throat, "I know were not gonna die up here, but if we were, I can't really imagine what the last thing I would want to do would be." You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, and he's shaking his head at you.

His voice is completely normal as he ponders the thought, "Well... we’re kind of limited with what we can do because of these." His hand finds the hem of his white t-shirt, peeling the material above his belly button. It's intention to gesture to the harness flush around his middle. Your eyes however... they veer to the tan skin of his stomach, and the dark tattooed ferns that adorn his hips and bracket the dusting of hair that trails up from the band of his Calvin Klein briefs. Only graced with the sight for a few fleeting seconds before it disappears behind the white fabric once again.

You almost about choke on nothing. Having to force your throat to swallow before a bout of laughter rattles out of you without you able to stop it, "The harnesses?'

Your obviously answered question makes his brows furrow, and mouth quirk into a confused sort of smile. It only makes you laugh more, hand coming up to scrape down your face as a desperate attempt to ground your brain.

But, fuck— what he just said, you're banking it was an entirely innocent comment, and that's exactly what is causing the confusion at your disheveled reaction. But he quite literally doesn't realise what insinuation you thought he was making. And that you are imagining all kinds of depraved scenes without ability to stop.

A parallel of you only a minute earlier, he begins, "What do you—"

The pang of realisation hits him.

"...oh."

His words die where they were in his voice box, stomach churning the second he clocks onto your almost guilty laugh. The sound drips with warmth as it enters his ears.

He rolls his eyes, but suddenly his cheeks feel hot as a blush spreads across them no matter how hard he tries to will it away, "That is not what I meant! Of course you would think that."

Your jaw drops in feigned offense, knocking your elbow against the side of his ribs, "What are you trying to say about me?"

You've taken a small step back from him, hand coming to your chest as a mimic of your fake shock. You know how dangerous this is getting, and quickly at that. Breaching into uncharted territory.

"That your head is stuck in the gutter." He mumbles, blinking fast as he avoids meeting eyes with you as if you'd be able to simply see the thoughts plagued in his head now.

"It is not, you're the one that worded it weird!" You tease, arms crossing. It is truly like the rest of the world has fallen away, and like you are the only two people alive right now.

"Is so," he argues passionately back, "So far in the gutter, in fact, tell pennywise i say hi."

You burst out with a laugh, trying to tuck your cold hands between your upper arm and ribcage, "Gross, Harry. I fucking hate clowns."

"And mind you, I said nothing! You came to this conclusion on your own."

"Okay Y/N, What conclusion is it tha’ I'm coming to, if y'would be so gracious to enlighten me." Checkmate.

He's smiling now, you are red, embarrassed or worked up, or perhaps a heated mixture of both.

The ball is back in your court, and you struggle to get your mouth to move properly, "I— You cant— Don't turn this back on me!"

Suddenly, he tumbles his own inner thoughts out of his lips before he can halt them, they sound with a rasp, "Darling, you're the one having deluded n’dirty thoughts 200ft up n'the sky."

God. Does this count as foreplay to the mile high club? And fucking hell, his voice sounds too deep right now. The way his thick accent rolls the words out. Its making your head hurt.

Your earlier resolve is officially gone. It's thrown itself off the ledge of this bridge and is falling the very far drop to the bottom. And you know what, pretty sure your self respect is going with it. Between the two of them, it will be loud enough to probably hear the impact they make when they hit the water at full force.

"Probably the first person to be doing that up here, too." The words are gritted out of you as your heart pounds in your chest.

You hear the inhale he takes, deep— as if he's trying to ground himself, hold back whatever is transpiring right here, right now.

"Do have even half the idea of how badly I want t'kiss you right now?"

Your head snaps from where it was, tearing your eyes from where they'd locked onto the city skyline in attempt to distract yourself from the trouble you're about to get into. A part of you deep down realises how bad this could get quickly, how absolutely irreversible this conversation is.

And that regardless if something or nothing comes of it, you are never going to function the same. Laying in bed staring at the celling you'll see his face, next time you're on stage you'll feel your stomach drop when he looks at you, when you're in a room with him you'll cease to be able to function.

His green eyes have literally pinned you where you stand, wind toying with your hair as your lips are parted in shock.

"You don't mean that..." you stare at him, shaking your head slowly. Trying to back out of this, attempting to give him a moment to throw the blanket back over what he was uncovering.

He frowns, almost offended, as if doubting him is the worst thing there is in the world. Taking a brief step forward to fully face you, "Y/N, I would have you backed up against these beams if I wasn't literally restrained from doing so."

"What— Harry, what about—" At this rate, you're mustering up any excuse to rationalise what is happening right now, "I'm pretty sure there's strict rules against this in our contracts— you know?"

"Fuck the contracts." He immediately replies, disregarding that as a point entirely. His hand coming up to brush the brown curls that have been blown in front of his intense gaze, "Could care less 'bout them, not like we haven't broken a million other things in them."

True. You can think of several things between you and the band. You're still employed, if that says anything.

"The things I would do to you if I knew no one would interrupt" He takes another step closer to you, close enough you can reach out and touch him, "then well see about me not meaning any of this."

His voice, the absoluteness in his tone makes your head spin. Resolve slipping, cracking, completely dissipating from where it was being grappled in your palms two seconds prior to this conversation starting.

You feel like you're floating outside of your own body as your hands find the bottom of his white shirt, lifting it until you can wrap your fingers around the black harness taut around his middle. Slowly, you pull it until he is forced to step closer to you.

His heart stutters at the action... it's arguably the hottest thing a girl has ever done to him— beating a tug of belt loops or a belt by a mile. This was personal.

"This is still a problem, as you said earlier." You drawl quietly. Tone void of any indicative of emotion, the only thing he gets any intel from being the blush that's deepened on your cheeks.

There's a few ticks of silence when his chin dips to follow the action that's led your cold hands underneath his shirt, the way he stares the only point of physical contact between the two of you. But god, when your stare flickers up to him and he meets it with his own— his stomach jolts. Eyes squeezing shut as his forehead drops down, hesitating before pressing ever so slightly against your own, "Y'are too much, love."

His hands sliding up to meet your jaw, your low voice echoes out a plea, "Well, it would be a waste if we didn't."

Referring to the kiss of course, it does feel like it would be a missed opportunity to surpass right now. As, in all fairness you'll never be able to have a first kiss with Harry in a more memorable place. So even if the idea is stupid, It could be justified by that alone...

You feel his chest rumble with a deep chuckle, his lips pulling into a smile, "We'd regret it... if we didn't."

"We’d always wonder.” You nod, tone bearing on certainty as the two of you knowingly come to the biggest reach of a justification you could.

His fingers coil around your jawline, and you can feel his warm breath gently panning across your skin. It makes your eyes flutter closed, feeling his thumb ghost over your bottom lip. Eliciting a shudder that runs straight up your spine, making him smile with pride.

Tipping your chin up, he brushes his mouth over the corner of your lips. Catching them just slightly, “I’d always be thinking about what your mouth would feel like against mine,”

“And then you’d just end up kissing me anyway,” you chuckle quietly, “just in a probably less cool place.”

“Mhmm,” the low hum of agreement rumbles from his throat as finally he bears his mouth down against your own. The press of warm lips against yours making your whole body sing.

Cold was no longer a feeling in you, there was only a hot tingling sensation that’s shot through your limbs as his mouth lingers in hesitation for a moment before moving to kiss lightly against the fullness of your bottom lip.

He nearly groans when you regain enough control over yourself to actively kiss him back, leaning into his touch.

The excitement spreads through you both like wildfire— you’re kissing each other on the top of a world famous bridge. Cars below, and mentionably the crew members also underneath, have no idea. No idea the fact your hands are skating up his white shirt further until you’re palming the hard slabs of muscle over his abdomen. Not even a clue that one of his hands has taking sanctuary on your hip bone, tugging your body into his.

Your mouths work against each other, tongues suddenly getting involved when he squeezes a hand along your ribs making your lips part. His warm tongue gliding into your mouth just enough for you to taste him slightly.

“Harry,” his name is whined against his mouth, nails clawing over the skin of his chest.

“Fuck—“ he bites out, tongue lulling against your bottom lip, greedily trying to taste more of you.

The action alone is enough to make your knees nearly give out, “I need—“

Your desperate words are cut off, the sound of your phone ringing bringing you both to an instant halt.

There’s a shared look, both taking in what you’ve done to one another. Left standing here with eyes half lidded and lips swollen— looking entirely, wholeheartedly, fucked.

A tortured sigh comes from you as he promptly leans back down and kisses your mouth. If it had anything to do with you, you'd let the call ring out just to have more of this. He is more sensible than that, clearly. As his hand comes to the back pocket of your jeans, sliding your buzzing phone out into his palm.

Wanting to whine when he pulls away, a part of you is battling all your logic and is begging to stay up here with him. For how long? You don’t care, forever as far as you’re concerned. Fighting the urge to just grab your phone and throw it off the ledge, purely so his hands can busy themselves on your skin again.

Harry clears his throat before tapping the accept button, hoping to god he can muster a normal sounding voice.

Georgie’s voice comes through first, less shuffling on his end of the phone this time— indicating some higher level of organisation in comparison to earlier, you assume.

“Harry, Y/N! Platforms on its way up you two, everything okay?”

“Yep, Georgie,” he nods, pursing his lips as his eyes find your to pin you with a stare, “things are good.”

A small laugh and he replies, “Well— I can’t really tell if you’re bein’ sarcastic but I’ll take it.”

“Anyway, once it’s up there we’ve been told strictly to keep it one at a time to come down just to be on the safe side so it doesn’t malfunction again.”

“Very reassuring…” Harry drawls with slight grimace, glancing over to where the metal cage is rising up.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” he scolds playfully over the speakers, making Harry roll his eyes— but a playful smile falls on his lips.

“See you soon, thanks for saving us Georgie, I owe ya one.”

You finally lean towards the phone, “I second this, thank you.”

“Not a worry, didn’t want that much paperwork on a Friday night.” He teases, before ending the call with a quick ‘see you soon.’

Harry’s eyes return to you. Your lips part and draw in a hushed gasp as he leans back into your space. Hands slowly sliding around your middle. Making that same breath catch in the middle of your throat as he pulls you in, slowly, almost sensually as his eyes drop to your lips.

He lingers against you, a tease, you already know it.

Proving you right, he deposits your phone back safely into your back pocket, applying a few gentle taps to the swell of your ass as he leans back again.

"H." is all you can say, and at this point it comes from you as almost a whine. But it saying exactly what you want without having to even tell him.

A grin is plastered on his handsome face at the blush that’s already torn its way back through you. His bashful smirk mirroring that of two teenagers that have sneaked a kiss before going back to their friends or family.

Which is exactly what he does, struggling not to smile against your mouth as he presses warmly, firmly against you. Giving you exactly what you wanted.

Allowing you both as much time as reasonably possible to soak in the feeling before he starts to pull away, your body almost instinctually following his movement— leaning further, pecking against his mouth until he steadies your shoulders with his hands.

A soft chuckle breathily escaped him, heart nearly melting inside his chest as your wide, wild eyes stare up at him. A tiny, smile on your own mouth now, one he reaches up to thumb delicately over.

The touch is earnest and makes you nearly sink into yourself— or better yet, sink into him.

A light hum of pleasure, and then he pulls away, turning to start walking along the ledge.

Carefully, you both shuffle to where the platform is now fully stationary. As he takes a step onto it, feet planting solidly onto the metal, you see a sense of relief on his face. Hands working to unbuckle the carabiner, and his eyes flitting back to yours.

You’re staring at his hands… the way they seamlessly open the clasp. You’ve always been drawn to them, the firm tendons that run into his fingers. He catches you doing this, and whether or not he knows you’re ogling the stature of his hands, the smirk on his face is all consuming.

You roll your eyes bashfully at him, pursing your lips and crossing your arms all in an attempt to be normal about this. But struggling to come across to him as unaffected by this whole ordeal.

He is having none of it.

“M’not done with you, love. Not even close.”

And that’s the last thing he said before the platform started the trip back down. Suddenly you are alone up here once again. The moment of solitude very sobering in a situation as such.

Unbelievable to consider that if you told yourself two hours ago that by the end of the night, you had made out with Harry up here, you would’ve believed sooner that you were having hallucinations than actually thought it were true.

Your brain is going over it and over it, like a flashbulb memory, all you can think about is him, and what you’d just done.

“Fuck sakes.” You cursed, hand coming up over your eyes in attempt to quell the thoughts.

It was closest to a face palm. Your palm immediately clapped over your eyes. It’s to no use though, as even behind the darkness of shut and covered eyelids you could still see him, still feel him. The sensation of his fingers softly grazing over the skin of your ribcage, slipped tentatively underneath the knit of your sweater. The heat of his tongue lulling gently into your mouth.

M’not done with you, love. Not even close…

The sound of his voice, even if it’s simply the imagination of it in your own head, it reignited the heat in your stomach— if it ever truly went away— making it churn with heavy desire. Almost worse than earlier, now that you had to stand here and suffer through it stationary.

Dragging your heavy hand up to take place in your hair, you push the loose strands out of your face, and tug at its roots.

With now open eyes, the city stared back at you. Supplying you with a mocking silence. As if to imply, I saw what you just did. Watched you kiss someone you shouldn’t, and not even just once by any means. You went back for more even after it stopped. Got your hands and feelings involved.

You attempted to smooth your hair down, annoyed that your guilt has conjured into the city of London taking over your internal monologue. It was messy as you combed your fingers through it, but whether it was Harry or the wind, you’re hoping that— and the rest of your disheveled appearance— can be attributed to the cold and wind entirely.

Which suddenly, that cold felt so much harsher now Harry was no longer up there with you. Either it was his body heat pressed against you that heated you up, or kissing him had that much of an affect on you. Tragically, you’re ball parking that it’s a torturously attractive combination of them both.

When the platform thankfully returns up, you steal a final glance out at the Thames and London. Definitely a sight you’ll have burned into your mind for the rest of your life.

Stepping onto the platform, you felt equal parts relief and anxiety. God forbid people can sense something is different between you two… and this is not a situation you’ve ever been in before. Who knows your own capacity to hold a convincing lie about something like this.

The second you’re down all the way and the platform meets the ground, you’re greeted with a flurry of workers and people from the crew. All chorusing questions of ‘are you okay?’ to you as if you’d been up there for days without food or water.

Tamara, one of the women on the styling teams, rushed up to you with a thick black coat, shawling it over you and rubbing your shoulders, “here lovie, y'shaking like a leaf you poor thing... this’ll warm you up.”

Her lower lip pouted out in sympathy for you, her dark curls of hair casting over her eyes as she spoke “Gosh, you look so cold, the wind up there must’ve been so chilly… your cheeks are all red— and your hair's all over the place."

At least she was attributing it all to the cold wind, and wasn't immediately aware you'd just snogged with your bandmate up there. Either way the slight shake to your hands was the last of your worries, and your gaze has landed on Harry— but he was already looking at you.

His stare said it all really, the look of we have unfinished business all over his face. The tiny curve to the corner of his mouth that may go unnoticed to everyone else but you. Possibly because you had his tongue in your mouth less than half an hour ago, but still— you pick up on it all the same.

Georgie is fussing over him currently, and Harry takes a second to break the eye contact the two of you held, pausing to let out a breathy laugh as he turns to Georgie, “And surely after all this excitement we get to go back to the hotel room— no more crazy behind the scenes to film?”

Tamara’s ears perk and she overhears him, nodding as she rubs your shoulder, “we’ve already got a car down there to get you back to the hotel."

You thank god for the bridge being closed to traffic, entirely unable to imagine trying to trudge through hordes of tourists and potentially fans just to get back to a car.

Several people escort you and harry down the stairs to where a black car is parked opposite to the exit.

Tamara opens the door for you both, and you share a look before scooting into the backseats. Georgie gets into the front passenger seat, greeting the driver politely. Already clued in on the mishap on the bridge, they waste no time having a relieved laugh about you both getting down in one piece.

The heater is already cranking in the black car, heating your skin. Harry pats the middle seat with his hand, giving you a look. It lingered like an unspoken sentence in the glimmer of his green eyes, and the tiny upwards tilt to the corner of his mouth.

Next to me, it said.

Like it was less question, and more that he needed you next to him more than anything else in the world right now.

And as you’re coming to realise, this look on his face can pretty much get you to do anything. It’s only telling how far that alone could take you. So you silently settle into the middle seat, pulling the seatbelt across yourself. Buckling it in, feeling Harry’s thigh gently press against your own.

There are so many unspoken words floating in the air between you two. Things you want to say, things you want to do, all suspended above you. Making you wonder if Georgie— who is rugged up in the front seat and is apparently accompanying you both on the ride back to the hotel— can sense it too.

However, he seems oblivious despite your expectation for him to be the opposite. He pays no additional mind to you both, other her than the slight dart of his eyes to your body taking up the middle seat instead of the window seat behind him.

Your teeth are working over the skin on the corner of your lower lip as you’re driving back towards central London. Delmar, the driver whose name you’ve overheard in passing as Georgie and him acquainted, is weaving back into the thick of the cities traffic as you’re off the closed bridge.

Harry’s eyes are cast outside the window, but his hands are deciding to play a dangerous game. Simply at the fact he cannot help himself. He’s aware that Georgie is distracted, and is taking the opportunity to innocently flex his knuckles against your knee. Breaching the gap from where his hand rests atop his own. The warm city lights are cutting a deep shadow across his jaw, outlining the smirk on his side profile.

It conveys his need to touch you, that your body filling up the space next to him is not enough. Although you have to hold back an exasperated sigh at his actions, and how he is only making this worse for you, you end up sliding your hand down your thigh, slowly and carefully.

It's likely that you're just as bad as him, because you brush your hand against his— Nothing but your pinky stretched out, grazing his. Both of your eyes shifting upwards to lock with each other, then back to Georgie. A silent acknowledgment at how careful the two of you have to be right now.

Slowly, you link your pinky around his own, catching his ring finger too as he curls them against you. The delicate touch is somehow a head-spinning mix of sincere and beautiful, but also so insanely attractive.

He's smiling, a wide grin that his free hand attempts to cover as his elbow rests on the car door. Covering the dimples you wanted to take in, allowing you only the sight of slightly crinkled eyes from how hard he's smiling underneath the palm of his hand. To put it simply, right now he looks like an art piece. His chocolate curls over his forehead, and the smile on his face you know that you're the cause of. Hands brushing together, hidden between the both of you— all in the back of a car, trying to hide it like true teenagers.

It's sudden when you realise you are in the exact same state, struggling to disguise the curve of your mouth from not only Harry, but the other two people in the vehicle. Trying to press your lips together as he plays with your fingers. Hands soft and warm against yours, your eyes casting down to where they're joint together between the two of your knees. Just barely. Small enough a move to ensure you're the only two that know about it, but also enough to make your stomach churn with need.

I want his mouth on mine again, your brain chimes.

Before your brain can send you spiraling back into the memory of you two kissing, the sound of your name from the front seat cuts through it.

"Y/N, You were up there, tell Delmar what it was like!"

Snapping your gaze back to Georgie, he serves a unintentional reality check for you.

"Oh, uhm—" Shaking your head as if to clear your thoughts, you endeavor to form a coherent sentence. Harry's hand gently, and as discretely as possible, slides out of yours, taking its place back on his own thigh. If you were to look, you'd see that the smile on his face has somehow gotten wider, as if the aspect of being nearly caught out in the backseat of the car is the most amusing thing in the world.

Amplified by him listening to you stumble over your words, that too is endearingly hilarious. A true gentlemen.

However, you're now unable to find the words for what happened up there that don't relate to having someone kissing you over and over again.

"Well, you can imagine it was beautiful," A tiny, pained chuckle comes out of you, "London is... massive— from up there, y'know?"

God. You sound like such an idiot, you already know that.

The driver laughs and nods at your attempt to tell the story, voice warm and sincere as he replies, "Some things can be hard to put into words, I understand."

You take a moment to realign your thoughts, come up with anything better than 'London is... massive'.

Finally smiling back at him, you draw in a breath, trying to articulate the feeling prior to getting distracted up there with your bandmates mouth, "Well, the city lights are kind of like a warm sky of stars... Hard to believe that there's so many people in London when you look at it from that high up."

He hums at your much better description of the sight, and of course— just as anyone would, he curiously asks a few more questions.

Such as 'how long were you up there? were you scared?' All of which Georgie unfortunately does not swoop in on to steer the conversation again, as he too wants to hear the experience from you.

Delmar does eventually cast his attention to Harry's broad frame in the rear view mirror, quizzing him on his own outlook on the event, making you thankful to have a second to breath and not be skirting around the fact you made out with the person sitting currently right next to you.

He handles the questions with tragic ease— or at the very least it comes off that way— but you can hear how he is still trying not to laugh. And the way he's knocking your thigh with his every chance he gets when the eyes in the front of the car aren't on either of you.

The streets and the traffic within them get busier as the hotel the band is staying at draws close. Delmar weaving into the back lot so you can both get inside discreetly, not forgetting to thank you for the pleasurable chat. His kind words you both smile, and Harry isn't shy to also gives his gracious appreciation, "Drive was a dream, thank you mate, 'ave a lovely rest of your night."

His hand comes to open the car door, allowing him to slide out— But once he's standing, he gestured out his palm for you to take as your feet come to the asphalt below. The smirk on his face as you take it is enough to make you roll your eyes, trying to downplay the effect it has on you.

He leans discretely down to your ear, speaking only loud enough for you both to hear, "I know I will."

A wink to you, and it feels like your knees are going to give out simply where you stand. He gives it a squeeze before breaking off to shut the car door, and walk over to where Georgie is standing.

“Tamara told me they’ve got hot chocolates prepared in the foyer for you two.” Georgie informs you both, typing quickly back to Tamara on his phone before leading you both in through the back entrance of the hotel. Harry’s hands are tucked into the pockets of his jacket as you walk beside him, likely to stop himself from caving and trying to grab your hand or arm in his as you walk behind Georgie.

The air is contrastingly cold compared to the warm car, which brings another bout of relief when you to get back into the heated hotel lobby.

Surely enough, a short, older lady comes out from a kitchen area upon you all entering. Promptly walking up to Georgie with a tray with 3 large cups filled with the sweet beverage. He gasps in excitement as she approaches, remarking sweetly that "Tam even got me one, what a sweetheart!"

"Bet thats the real reason y'came back with us." Harry teases, then nods in greeting to the lady holding the tray of drinks, "Thanks for these, love."

Even she looks up at him with a big grin. Reminding you of the way the elderly ladies talked about the boys when you were filming earlier for this music video. Harry— and all the others— just have that charm about them. Clearly it lacks a generational age limit. And you know what, you cant even blame her. She gets it.

"Not a worry darling's, buzz us if you all need anything else,” You give her a smile as she reaches to pat your arm, “it should warm everyone up.”

“Thank you so much.” You affirm as you clasp the hot cup from the tray.

Heading towards the posh elevator, Georgie presses the up button and is talking to Harry about tomorrow, how he has a fitting for a suit. Something about an awards show. You're struggling to pay attention, as you know all three of you are headed to the same floor. Not only does Georgie have to think you're going back to your respective rooms for the night, but if any of the other boys waited up for you two, there is no way you're going to get to be alone tonight.

Harry is busy entertaining Georgie's itinerary as you step into the elevator, his hand reaching for the '32' button on the control panel. The descent up each floor feels like it drags on forever, anticipation for how this is going to play out genuinely killing you.

When the large silver doors open to the 32nd floor, all of you walk out in tandem onto the tiled hallway. Your rooms are all pooled together at the start of the hall, meaning there’s hardly any further to walk once you’re out of the elevator.

Your own keycard for your room is in your phone case, so you reach to pop the case off and slide it out as you come to a stop outside the large white doors of your room.

"Well," You clear your throat, eyes darting between Harry and Georgie, "Glad we all survived that ordeal, I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow."

A small buzz sounds from the sensor as you hold the card over it, a small green light flashing.

“Mhm, tomorrow.” Harry affirms casually, casting a sly nod your way from where he stands on the opposite side of the hallway. Standing outside his own room, fishing out a keycard from deep in the pocket of his jeans.

Georgie, who is happily and unknowingly pushing open his own door, chuckles at your comment, "Definitely glad, see you two in the morning."

With a small smile, he makes sure to squeeze in a a final reminder to Harry, "H, half ten tomorrow, don't forget."

The two of you have both slid inside your respective hotel rooms as Harry laughs quietly, replying to him, "Wouldn't dare."

Waiting, your free hand clutches the door. Admiring his face in the warm glow of the hall lights, and the way he keeps his eyes trained on the room Georgie was disappearing into. As you watch, you’re taking a sip of your hot chocolate when his gaze finally darts to yours as the click of a door sounds up the hall.

Now you’re just looking at each other, tension in the air thick and warm. He’s smiling as he mimics your behaviour, taking a leisurely drink from his own cup without breaking eye contact.

Given the few seconds of silence, you are certain that no one is going to disturb you, and a sense of relief washes over you. Finally. Other than the pounding of your heart in your chest, everything around you is quiet. You peak your head around the smooth rim of the doorframe, all the doors were shut, and the rooms were hushed.

By some grace of god, not only has one of your managers gone to bed without any hunch as to what’s going on, but the rest of your bandmates too. And it really is just the two of you.

Harry’s gaze is burning into with an equal grin when you look back to him. Revelling in the privilege he feels watching you step quietly back into the hall, turning your body to very gingerly tug your door closed again.

You cannot be closing the gap between you both fast enough, you’re practically running across the hall, shoes lightly clacking against the tiles to reach him before this perfect opportunity could be interrupted by a single soul. Pursing your lips as you step across the threshold of his door and the hallway, forcing back a laugh that’s bubbling in your chest at the situation.

Not wasting a second more, you invade his space. Leaning into the curve of his body where his arm is braced against the door he’s holding open.

“Hi…” Your hand reaches up to meet the back of his neck, where it cranes to look down to meet your eyes.

“Hey, baby,” he rasps, eyes fluttering as he takes you in. The black of his pupils have blown out over the mosaic of emerald green surrounding them, dilated in what can only be described as sheer anticipation. Conveying the want and need he feels without having to speak more than a word. That alone is something you can’t handle for half a moment longer, because suddenly your hand sinks into the soft curls at his nape, and you’re pulling to tug his head further down. Moulding your lips together in a single, rushed movement.

There’s no words that can do justice the feeling that explodes in your chest. Little buds of heat bloom and flower in there faster than you can keep up with, kicking your lungs into a pant as his tongue can’t help but get involved immediately— lulling over the fullness of your bottom lip. The firm press of a single kiss had promptly melted into a plethora, one after the other as your lips show no mercy against one another.

You have to physically focus to keep the cup from slipping from your grip. A nearly impossible feat when his tongue is invading the gap between your top and bottom lip, gliding into your mouth with a hum from his throat at the taste of you. Warm and chocolatey, a flavour he wants to sink in.

Harry too tastes of the warm drink, a sweet contrast to earlier— when your tongue tingled from the spearmint on his breath. Your body leans into his. More, more, more, your brain is practically begging. Naturally it causes him to stumble back as your chest is arching to press against his own. The softness of your body makes him want to groan, and his hand almost instinctually leaves its hold on the doorframe to meet the dip of your waist. Supporting your stature as he pulls you to follow each step back he takes.

With a loud slam, the door falls shut, eliciting a slight flinch and laugh from you both. Like you didn’t expect it. As if natural consequences don’t exist right now, and the world around you is falling away with every press of lips against skin. There is no actions causing reactions, except the ones happening solely between the two of your bodies.

“Oh god—“ You sputter a strained laugh, hand stroking along his jawline as your eyes dart to the now shut door. It’s thrown the room into darkness, except for the faint glow London’s city lights have provide from his window on the opposite side of the room. “So much for being discrete… and quiet.”

This lighting bought the sharp shadows back onto his face, but this time you can finally touch them— revel in them.

“You’ll be more worried about quiet later, darling.” His voice comes low against your cheek, hand on your hip. Guiding you backward until the small of your back meets the cool countertop of the kitchenette.

His words bring that familiar, pleasure-filled roll into your stomach. Drawing out a tiny whine from your throat as he smirks against your flushed skin. Placing a peck against your cheekbone, he lingers for a few seconds. Letting the warmth of his lips burn a mark into the very nerves they touch, before pulling back to take a swig of the hot chocolate between his hands. Using his free one to now guide your own cup towards your mouth.

As your big eyes look up to him, he breaks his lips from the lid to speak, “drink s’more, it’ll be a cold chocolate by the time we come back to it.”

Chuckling around the edge of the cup, you press your mouth to it and let the sweet and warm liquid trail down your throat. He watches intently, the way you swallow it down— knuckles coming to run from the base of your throat upwards, tracing along the hook of your jaw.

He has to stifle a groan at the sight of you, the way your throat bobs with your red cheeks and messy hair. It translates instead through the clench of his jaw, and fluttering shut of his green eyes. The expression makes your stomach flip, not only warm from the hot chocolate, but from the arousal that’s sparking heat in every part of your body it can tangibly reach.

“Fuck— H,” you say, turning to push the takeaway cup on the counter behind you, “You’re so fucking beautiful, look at you.”

Finally, that groan escapes him simply at your words. Furthering into something more as now both of your hands run up his white shirt. No longer stopped by the barrier of a body harness, you skate along the taut, firm muscles of his abdomen in one long stroke.

“Fuckin’ Hell…” he curses, eyes darting down to meet where your hands have slid up his shirt— again, for the second time tonight.

It’s a much more heated parallel of earlier, one he takes no hesitancy to act on. Leaning into your touch, he turns briefly to place his cup adjacent to yours on the bench top. Feeling your nails scratch along his abs, he is quick to move so he’s facing you again, planting his lips back on your own and reigniting the fiery kiss.

With two free hands now, he runs them up your hips, firmly pulling you against him as he walks you away from the kitchenette. Your feet stumble along with his long strides, brain struggling to pay attention to anything other than the drag of his hot kiss against you.

It’s clear all resolve is lost to you both, and when the backs of your knees hit the edge of the cool comforter… “Im gonna wreck you, love… if you’ll let me.” The depraved words are whispered against your lips.

His body presses you down, you have to sit now, thighs meeting the bed and your lips disconnecting. The sudden distance causes you to whine, “Harry—“

“You’re going to have to tell m’too stop.” He rasps, the heat of his palms travelling up under your sweater. However this time, they traverse higher than just your ribcage— ghosting over the sides of your breasts.

The sight is obscene on its own, despite all articles of clothing still being on. The tension around you both is crowding the air to the point your lungs are heaving to bring any oxygen left into them.

Finally, your brain manages to string a sentence together, “I won’t. I wouldn’t. I don’t think you realise what you’ve done to me.”

The urgency held in your words starkly highlights how fast your need for him has snowballed. You’ve gone from wanting just his lips, to wanting every inch of him. Needing his body pressed against yours, pressed into you. You grasp his hips and tug him to stand between your parted legs.

Once you’d done that, if that hadn’t thrown your last handful of caution to the wind, your fingers now reach for the hem of your sweater.

This was a greenlight. It was a go ahead to cross a line that you both knew shouldn’t be crossed. As it was no longer just words. Not just strung up whispers that imply a want, it was an action that affirmed it. One that drags a growl from him once your hands have shucked the knit from your body, leaving you in just bra and jeans, “pretty little thing y’are.”

“We’re making a mistake, probably,” you pant out, reaching your arms up to his shoulders, grabbing the collar of his jacket to slowly slide it off him. The thick fabric hitting the floor with a gentle thump, “but I don’t fucking care.”

“Mistake is already long done baby, we made that hours ago when we first did this.” He finally cranes down again, pressing a wet kiss against you, making you almost moan.

“Fuck it,” I rasp, “I need you Harry, I wanna do this. Don’t care how stupid we are for it.”

Breaking away from the kiss, his eyes bore down at you as his jaw forms a hard line, “You want this? Need y’to say it…”

His sentence trails off, allowing you a moment to verbalise a yes. A seek for certain consent turns you on even more.

“If it’s not already obvious,” your response comes out in a breathy, almost tortured chuckle, “I do, H.”

It’s like his expression flips. As if his gaze darkens, and now all he wants is to make you feel everything he possibly can, “Right, darling— gonna have to be quiet tonight, though.”

Tonight. God— in your head this implied a want for this to go on for more than just one night. That it’s not just a one and done situation. Your body reels at the imagery it creates in your head.

The picture that shows more than tonight, the two of you sneaking around all over again. Fucking him in his dressing room before soundchecks, in dark hotel rooms, climbing into his bunk on the bus…

And right now, somehow that’s all you want for your future.

“I can…” you nod, “I’ll be quiet if it means I get you, please.”

Your own voice sounds foreign to your ears, the plea so desperate that it comes from you in a tone you’ve simply never heard before. In response, his hands make quick work of your bra as they skate up the skin of your back to meet the clasp— shedding it off your body with a gentle groan.

He lowers you down with his arms, letting your back meet the mattress as he closely follows with his mouth on your neck.

“Already being so good for me,” he rumbles, voice so deep it has you nearly seeing stars, “will y’let me turn the lamp on baby? Want to see you, properly.”

Your heart jumps in your chest, eyes fluttering shut as you nod. He wants to revel in your body, see every reaction it has to offer— and that’s enough to have goosebumps rattle up your skin.

However, your nod alone doesn’t satisfy him.

His hands run up your waist, skirting up your ribcage as his lips instead move down. Mouthing over your clavicle, “Words, love…” making you whine out when his sucks lightly over the skin.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes… yes turn the lamp on…” The words almost shudder out your chest, evoking a smirk from him against your collarbone.

“Good girl.”

His words are foreplay enough on their own with the way his sweet accent twists them out. They replay over and over again as some part of your brain registers the sound of his feet walking across the floor, and the lamp flicking on. Casting a warm glow across the room.

“Want to see you too...”

The sentence comes out of you airy, as if you’re floating. When turns around to come back to you, he audibly groans just at the sight of you. The way your skin is peppered with goosebumps and nipples perked from the cool air of the hotel room.

His steps take him quickly back to you, your eyes big as they stare up at him, hair fanned across the duvet. He reaches a hand to run lightly over your hip, “God, you are fucking divine.”

Shyly, you smile. A part feeling so out of place as you watch him looking at you. Knowing Harry is perceiving you right now— your body from the chest up entirely naked— seeing you in a way he never has before. In attempt to even the playing field slightly, you reach for the white tee that’s fitted across his chest, tugging the hem of it so he gets the hint.

As he peels it off his torso and you want to cry. The abs on his chest are in front of you, along with every inch of tan skin that’s littered in the dark ink. Secretly, his tattoos have always been something you’ve wanted to trace your tongue over. An urge you’ve been denying since he got the first one, and it’s only grown since… the idea of re-carving the lines of the butterfly that sits in the middle of his abdomen with the heat of your mouth… or perhaps lower over the laurels that bloom from the band of his jeans.

“You look so good… so beautiful, H.” Is all you manage to groan out. Your legs part instinctively as you spew out compliments, letting him step between your thighs again. Filling the space like the piece of a puzzle, he slots perfectly between them.

Wasting no time before taking his lips to your breast, kissing over you and making your back arch. Hands coming back to the dark curls on his head, lacing into them as his mouth works delicately over you.

The whimpers that are echoed around the room are enough to drive him insane. Tiny whines and pleas of his name coming from you as your hands tangle further into his hair— pulling at the soft roots. Your body is reacting to his touch like it’s lighting a fire inside of you.

“Harry— fuck—“ when he looks up to you, he sees your flushed cheeks and screwed shut eyes. That paired with the slight upturn of your brows as your hips suddenly— and desperately— grind into him is enough to make him nearly loose it. He’s unable to take it anymore, and seeing you like this is utterly corrupting him.

His kisses work a trail back up your neck and jaw, meeting your eager lips before muttering with hot breath against you, “Y’are unbelievable, love. Gonna completely ruin myself in you…”

His hands are nearly shaking as he presses his hips flush to your core.

“Ohh—“ your voice croons out as you feel him, the hardness snug between your legs. It’s incomparable to anything you’ve ever felt. Your whole body practically gives out just from that simple action alone.

He is truly going to ruin you and himself in the process.

And happily, you’ll let him.

His fingers ghost down your stomach, over your naval to pop the button of your jeans open with a single hand. Watching his plump bottom lip come between his teeth as your hips instinctively rise upwards to help him slide the tight fabric down your frame.

“That’s m’girl,” he murmurs, patting your exposed hipbone as he slips yours jeans off you. The way his pupils have blown out as he peels them below your core, eyes meeting the fabric of your panties.

“What’s all this?” Once your pants are stripped from your legs, his fingers take place gently to press between your parted thighs. Delicately drifting over the wetness that’s seeped through your already thin pair of underwear.

“T-the panties, or the state that they’re in?” You manage to croak out in amusement, tone tight as he touches over the most sensitive parts of you.

“Because arguably, both are for you.”

“For me…” He hums, “Skimpy pair of panties, and the fact y’ve wet them all the way through… both of those things are all f’me, love?”

His finger plucks underneath the seam of your underwear, yanking the lacy material forwards before letting it snap back into place. Only making you moan aloud, “Fuck—“

“It’s been—“ his thumb runs against you, firmer this time, breaking your voice, “it’s been a long night—“

To your admission he only smirks, unbuttoning his own jeans— again, all with the talent of a single hand. As his other is busy with the ministrations it’s working over your clothed core.

“Mm, wouldn’t want to drag it out any longer, hey baby?” His playful voice making you practically clench… “or should I make you come a couple of time first…”

Suddenly, he’s shucked his own jeans off and kicked them over into the haphazardly made pile of other clothes on the floor. And the simple but absolutely mouth watering pair of CK briefs is all he’s left in. His hard cock filling up the space in them, making it abundantly clear he’s working with a lot tonight.

He leans back into your ear, feeling your legs wrap around the backs of his thighs like you’re trying to mould the two of you together, “Could work over your pretty pussy with m’fingers, get it nice and wet.”

The filth from his mouth only makes you moan, tightening your legs and finally feeling the length of his cock back against your cunt.

There’s few layers between you now, and his hands meet your hips to hold you in place flush with himself, “fuck—“

“Could play with you using my mouth for a bit—“ he bites out, already struggling to regulate his breath, “reckon you’d loose it the second I got m’lips around your clit.”

Jesus Christ.

“H— please—“ your words are desperate, voice growing louder.

“Or does my pretty girl just want my cock? Is it too much for you to wait before y’have me— y’just need to be filled up now?”

You rub firmly up against him, a long drag that has him muffling a groan into your neck— teeth grazing the skin of your ear as he revels in the feeling entirely.

“Want it now,” you conclude, “can’t stop thinking about you just stretching me out.”

“God— you are such a fucking tease, y’don’t even realise it,” he growls, kicking back into action as his rough hands travel down your side to hook into your panties.

“Laying here, begging for my cock like a good girl.” The rasp in your voice only makes you more turned on… and the pet name— that in itself is enough to keep you here all night. All things he’s about to witness first hand as he steps back so he can work your underwear off your body.

“Lift y’hips up, dove, let me see your pretty cunt.”

He moans at the sight.

Your panties aren’t even off you and he’s moaning like he’s a starved man.

“Fuck, baby.” There’s a desperate sound to him as he sees your swollen cunt, green eyes raking over the wetness that’s pooled between your legs. Unblinking, scared as if you might disappear.

His own moans kick you off too, making you whine out your own plea, “God— Harry, please��”

He manages to get the panties off you, and now he’s able to spread your legs and really look at you. Hands coming between your knees to part them.

You’re a mess.

A complete and utter mess.

“Hiding this gorgeous cunt from me for so long, never knew you’d get this wet f’me.” He groans, fingers coming to your cunt and spreading you open, “puffy clit looks like it’s been wanting attention for hours, darling.”

The sensation ripples through you body, washing up your spine with a chill that he can almost see, “I— shit…” your voice shudders, “feels like it.”

“Kills me thinking you were this ready for me when we were in the car, or god— on that fucking bridge.”

He swirls his thumb over your clit, your arousal glistening on the pad of his finger. You’re begging before you can stop yourself, backs of your legs tightening around his as you groan, “Harry, please, don’t tease me.”

This pulls a chuckle from his chest, rumbling as he flicking over you gently, “M’not teasing y’baby, just enjoying you.”

His finger slowly dips inside of you, “S’this better, this what my girl wanted?”

“Fuckk…” you roll against his hand, feeling him work a second one into you at your reaction. Relishing the feeling of you around his fingers, the wetness he can’t believe he’s managed to be the cause of.

Never in a million years did he imagine the two of you would be in a situation like this, yet here you are. Breath panting out of lungs as he smirks down at you, watching your brows knit together with every slow curl of his long fingers.

Suddenly, he verbalises this, “Never thought I’d get you under me like this, that I’d get to see you all worked up for me.”

“I—“ you bite your lip as his thumb comes back to gently stroke your clit while his other fingers ease in and out of you. The pace excruciatingly slow, considering you just wanted him to flip you over and fuck you senseless— but is causing a deep winding in the pit of your stomach.

It’s another moment where your mouth and brain struggle to match up, but finally, you push out a reply, “I’ve always been denying that I’ve wanted this… but fuck.”

“Mm?” He hums, cocking a brow and urging you to keep talking with a quicker thrust of his fingers, “Care to tell me more, love, about these thoughts of yours?”

“Always pretended I didn’t, but fuck I’ve wanted to have you—“ he hooks his fingers, “B-but— fuck, Harry— I’ve wanted your cock for so long…”

His mouth is suddenly on yours, a rough and messy exchange— tongues running over lips, teeth grazing already kiss swollen mouths. It’s a kiss that you’re both groaning into, yours perpetuated as his fingers slide out from between your core.

An unwelcome emptiness to your body, especially given the pleasure it was slowly building up for you.

However, this is no longer an issue when he leans to your ear, “I have condoms, baby— just say the words.”

“Yes, yes, please—“ you croak out, hands running up his bare back before he doesn’t waste any time breaking away from you.

Trying to make it quick as you lie there awaiting his return, a hand running between your own legs in the meantime.

He comes back with a small square packet, stopping dead in his tracks as he sees the sight of you. When he thinks there’s no way his cock could get harder, he’s proved wrong when he catches glimpse of your own fingers pushed into you.

“So desperate,” he almost growls as he walks over, pushing boxers down his thighs without a second thought. A moan escaping you at the sight of his thick cock springing up, lust driving the both of you now— its deep hooks sunk into you in their entirety.

“They don’t feel the same though, do they?” He asks, eyes dark as his hand runs down the middle of his stomach to come wrap around his length and slowly stroke over it, “don’t hear you moaning like you were five minutes ago.”

“Fucking hell,” your hips feel like they’re on fire, another roll against your own hand but he’s right, “no, nothing is as good…”

“I have a feeling we’re going to fuck ourselves up here,” he pauses, taking the wrapper of the condom between his teeth and tearing it. Hand rolling it over his length— his teeth sucking his bottom lip between them at the sensitivity. His nose sighs out a breath after a moment, glancing back over to you, continuing on from what he was saying a moment prior, “tha’ no matter how hard we try we’re always gonna want this.”

His hands gesture between the two of you, and despite how many problems that idea alone could spell you, you nod feverishly, “I’ll have it… I’ll take it that way if it means I get to have you.”

With that, he’s stepping forward and taking the space between your thighs, “guess the damage is already done, anyway.”

His breath is laboured as he pulls your ass forward, cock pressed against your core.

“You tell me baby,” Harry sighs out, leaning his body over yours again from where he stands at the edge of the bed, lips grazing your cheek in a soft but heated movement, “tell me just how you want it.”

There’s an element of tenderness and care in the way the hushed words fan warmly across your face. Intimate with the way the two of you are pressed together… almost as close as you can get. One step away from being two halves that form some kind of messy, beautiful whole.

Your hands embrace the moment, sliding between your chests to cradle his jaw. A tiny laugh coming from you as his gaze flickers down to your breasts, and how they’ve pushed together from your arms. As a silent acknowledgment of your giggling at him, he rolls his eyes in faux annoyance.

And oh god, he is beautiful.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Plain and simple, the words come from your hushed voice, “Want you just like this, H.”

His lips part, looking at you.

“Want you close, just want you to fuck me.”

And how could he ever say no to that.

A hand wrapping around his cock, he carefully lines himself up with you, leaning back to kiss you as he slowly, so very slowly, pushes into you.

There’s a gasp that immediately comes from you, and a moan that rumbles from him. Shared between the fraction of space between your lips, opened both in shock and pleasure.

“Fucking hell—“ his voice is so deep as he leans his forehead to yours, hair messily cascading over it, “so tight ‘round me.”

“Harry— f— shit…” you can’t even complete a sentence, even with the litany of profanities that are echoing in the chambers of your head.

“That feel good?” He asks, hand coming to your waist as he slides further into you, finally reaching the thick middle of his cock.

“Mmm…” only able to nod, your hips are rolling on their own accord now. The slight pinch of him stretching you out, paired with that pleasurable fullness that neither of your fingers could come close to.

His body straightens up at the buck of your cunt against him, “D—fuck—dontfuckingmove—“

It feels like all the blood in his body has deviated in two directions. Firstly, into his head, making him feel so lightheaded the room is nearly slanted. And secondly, straight to his cock, pulsing inside of you so hard you can feel it.

You moan at the sensation, and at the rough clamp of his fingers around your hips— attempting to still them, “baby, don’t… just— just need a moment, or I’m gonna come before I can even ruin you…”

“Already ruined,” you pant, eyes coming to his as sweat starts to dampen your skin— a light sheen over your glowy complexion.

“So fucking filthy.” He mutters, looking down between the two of you.

His cock half pushed inside you he’s certain is the best view he’s ever seen. Better than any view from the top of a bridge, a mountain, or any other landmark in the world.

Your swollen, glistening cunt wrapped around him, already leaking arousal more arousal now he’s got his cock in you. Reacting as you’ve never been touched before.

Slowly, he manages to get himself fully inside of you, and is starting to make small thrusts— hips gently hitting against yours as he draws in and out of you. A low, intense groan escaping him with each movement. And it’s good to know it feels just as insane for him as it does for you, because right now— even with just his length rutting at such a gradual pace inside of you, you’re already melting.

Every inch of your body is tingling as his name comes from your lips in the form of a desperate moan, “Harry….”

A harder thrust, and your hands are wringing the white comforter as you legs wrap tighter around his middle.

He wants to imprint the shape of your body on this duvet, and frame the scrunches from your curled fists like art pieces. Just to know that what he did to you, and how it made you feel was entirely real. Not something he dreamed up. That the words leaving your lips are no figment of depraved imagination.

“I'm so fucking wet… I’m sorry— I'm making a mess.” You whine, body shaking. You feel out of control, every reaction coming from your body that of a primal instinct you can't wrap any element of authority over.

The sweet cadence of your voice as you shift beneath him... that in itself makes him feel like if he blinks, he’s suddenly going to wake up. Alone in a hotel room, in need of a cold, cold shower. Making his head spin, and it effortlessly swindles his sense of reality from him.

His hands splay on your hips, the hint of possessive nature in him you felt as they coil and tighten around the skin there. Anchoring where you lay as he cements himself in reality.

“No baby—“ he scolds at your apology, “y'dont 'ave to apologise. Being such a good girl f’me… feel you clenching me so hard already.”

An unbridled moan tears from your chest as he takes it upon himself to pull almost all the way out of your cunt, and then swiftly drive back into you.

“Fuckkk!” It’s a high pitched moan, the exact thing he wants to hear more of, even though the two of you should be trying a lot harder to be quiet. It still manages drags out a groan of him in response.

“Have to— shittt… have to be quiet darling…” he reminds, head tossing back as he suddenly picks up the pace between your legs.

“Feels so good, H… your cock is filling me up feels so fucking good—“

“N’ya takin’ it so bloody well,” he slaps lightly at your ass, suddenly grabbing it to cant your hips upward, “never been fucked this good, have you?”

In truth, you haven't. Never has it felt like every nerve-ending on your body is tingling, and like any more from him and you would simply break.

“N-no, Harry.” your head physically shakes, arms using any strength you have left to come behind you, and prop yourself up onto your elbows. Desperately, you want to see him inside of you, and what he's done to you.

He smirks at this, watching your eyes meet where he's stretching you out between your legs. The way your eyes flutter shut and roll back just at the sight. A visual accompanying the feeling is almost too much for you to process.

"Tha's it baby, take a look... see what I'm doing, how my cock is making y'feel so good."

A clench around his cock, and he grunts with another deeper thrust into you. Its sudden and abundantly clear that he’s starting to loose himself in you, unable to stop his mouth from spewing every dirty thing his brain produces, “C'mon, love. Beg me for it.”

“Tell me you don’t want me to stop.”

Your core is fluttering around him now, succinctly timed to each press of his cock, “Harry—“

The words however don’t come, only whines and moans as his cock pushes deeper into you with each stroke.

“Don’t make me get rough.” His tone is a sweet contradiction to his words, and he only juxtaposes them further with the feather-like touch of his fingers against your breast, "Or is that what my girl wants, wants me to get rough? Use you a little. Let me be selfish with this pussy and take it how I want.”

Curling his fingers around your breast, he squeezes gently, making you bite down on your lip to stifle the cry that was threatening to come out.

“Rough, be rough… can take it.” You pant out, arms giving out again as your back hits the mattress. Unable to support your weight, but still managing to reach up and tug his face to yours. He folds his body over yours to comply with the pull of your hands. Chest to chest, his cock is starting to slam harder into you, deeper— hitting places you were unaware of as his pelvis stimulates your clit from this new angle.

Turning to mush, the moans are bubbling out faster than you’re able to hold them back, your mouth resting parted against his cheekbone. His ears hearing each and every sound with complete pleasure.

“Shh, such a loud girl.” He says, but its hardly a scold or instruction to quieten down. It speaks more like an invitation, to let him hear more of you, no matter the consequences it could bring after the fact.

Infact, his own voice is beginning to sound strained, like another rough clench of your cunt and he's would to come straight into the condom wrapped around his cock.

You want him to come desperately. Your body perhaps wants it even more— doing things to tip him closer and closer to the edge you're both teetering on without even consciously noticing it.

Legs tightening around his waist, arms holding him as close as physically possible, nails clawing at the firm muscles of his back. As if there were a way to fuse the two of your frames together.

“God… it’s so fucking good… I feel so good.”

“Pretty girl, about to come all over my cock." He grinds out, feeling you pulse around his length, "About to wake the whole floor up, aren't you?"

The sound of him fucking you is enough— each slide of himself into your slick arousal that’s soaked both your cunt and his cock is louder than the next. But god, oh god, its hand that slowly wraps around the column of your neck that completely undoes you.

He doesn't press down, the touch is actually quite tender. But even the semblance of control it represents in your mind rips a moan from you as your core tightens, a hot budding sensation in the pit of your stomach. His slender fingers gliding up slowly— a stark contrast to the pace he's taking between your legs— thumb stroking the hook of your jaw with just a tad more pressure behind it.

Your impending orgasm feels like a pot that is just about to boil over the edge. It's making your whole body shake, "Sh— Shit! Harryyy, im gonna—"

"Mhm, baby, it's okay, i know," He whispers hoarsly into your ear, "Dont worry, y'can come, let it all go around my cock."

"Ohh— Oh god!" Your syllables draw out as you moan, eyes screwing shut as suddenly all the pressure between your hips explodes, "come with me."

The plea spills from your lips as your body clenches around him, making him moan with you. In an instant response to your words, you feel his thrusts turn messy and harsh inside you. Your name a loud drawn out whine that echoes around the room as he gives into your ask without a single question.

The two of your moan completely in sync as a shared blanket of ecstasy and euphoria casts over you both. The moment maybe lasted a minute, or really no more than two. But it felt endless, as if time and reality ceased to exist when you both finished with each other. His cock released into the condom, but his thighs stuttered against yours either way, as if he were filling your cunt with his orgasm. A groan rattling from him when your legs wrapped tighter around him, pulling him flush to you. You know he knows that's exactly what you were wishing were happening right now. Playing along with it to satiate the sick craving for it within you as you still pulsated around his length.

Expletive's are the only things coming from your mouths other than whines. Your orgasms gradually subsiding from the heated high that was all consuming to a low hum that lingers in your bones. Still, you're holding his hips to yours as if to keep him inside of you.

Logistically, a condom was the appropriate thing to do for first and very unplanned time together, but of course right now you wish otherwise.

"Fuckkk, dirty girl," He growls out finally, pressing a hot kiss to your smiling mouth, "Acting like im filling you up?"

Hand sliding up to your cup your jaw fully now, he cranes his thumb out and is pulling on your lip, waiting for your brain to slowly start working enough to generate a sensical reply.

"Is that wrong?"

"Fuck, no. it's so hot." His voice is low as he kisses you again, letting your mouths work against each other again in a sensual kiss.

"Can't help it, H," You try to justify anyways, "cock feels so good inside me, was wishing I got your come..."

“Didn’t know you wanted it angel,” he whispers in a pant.

“Mhm, neither,” you hum against his mouth, “till I just realised how good it made me feel imagining your finishing inside of me.”

"Gonna make me hard again..." He sighs out with a shake of his head, "'Nother night baby, can fill you up anywhere y'like."

Anywhere. God.

Images of his cock filling your mouth makes you shudder with need. A thing you are keenly interested in trying… and since clearly he’s insinuating this could happen again…

"Want this again?" You ask, a slightly serious tone taking over your voice as he slowly peels off you, feeling your legs loosen from around him as his cock softens.

A smile blossoms on his lips at the way your big eyes gaze up to him, "Again, and again."

"If it wasn't obvious already, love."

A blush was conjuring on your cheeks out of nowhere, "I— Okay... good. Because I do too."

"Who knows—" He begins, pausing with a slight wince as he slides out of you. There’s a lull in what he was saying for a moment, when he leans down to kiss your cheek, walking over to a bin to dispose of the used condom that was just wrapped over him.

He also goes and grabs the two take away cups from the counter, wasting no more time before coming back to you. Finally resuming his prior conversation, “Drink this and then maybe we can squeeze another round in before we have t'sneak you back to your room."

"Think we woke anyone?" You giggle, sitting up to take the cup from his hand thats gestured out to you.

"Wouldn't rule it out." He snorts, "we can worry about what lie we'll tell later, if anyone asks."

"But," he takes a small sip from his cup, still staring at you, "either way, right now, i dont care."

"I want you." His voice is certain, "So, rest of tha' is irrelevant to me."

"C'mere," Hand wrapping around his bicep, pulling him onto the bed with you. The mattress sinks with his weight on top of it, his firm frame that was only just on top of you moments before... You lean forward and peck his mouth with yours. One he doesn't want to end as soon as it does, his mouth chasing yours as you pull back far too soon for his liking. Clearly, you're in the same boat as him, unable to find it in yourself to care about anything other than him. That in this very moment as you have him, real and in front of you, he is yours. "Fuck, then. Lets just do it."

"Think we already did, love." He chuckles, letting the innuendo come out with a rasp. Unbelievable, he is.

You can only shake your head, suppressing a grin as you bring the once-hot hot chocolate to your lips. The liquid is lukewarm at best, but somehow nothing has ever tasted better— except maybe his mouth.

———

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed, this has been in the works in my drafts for SO long. pls let me know what you think! ily, thank you for your support and hopefully will post some more writing soon lovelies🤍

345 notes · View notes

miwiheroes · 4 months ago

Text

Dropping Byler Evidence Every Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 1 - The M&Ms scene . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

So yeah, this scene is never really talked about that much as like actual proof, more like a funni little thing where Mike looks at Will for a moment when he walks away, but analysis of the cinematography, framing and narrative of this scene can be revealing.

First thing: as soon as El wipes her nose, revealing it was her that helped Mike and Lucas, the camera zooms in on Mike, as if to be like 'oooh wonder how he's going to react'! and the audience is then in suspense, because they're probably expecting him to smile or try to take this opportunity.

What does he do? He just says 'Thanks." And the moment of suspense is broken. It's almost like a record scratch. We will come back to this reaction later, basically because it shows that Mike really does not mind being on these terms with El.

Second thing: At first glance there seems to be 3 main characters of this scene: Mike, Lucas and El. However, Will also seems to be included in this scene unlike Max who is also there. There is no reason to have Will be in some of these shots that, I want you guys to understand, is intentional. The directors didn't just accidentally set up this frame:

They didn't just forget to move Will out the way. In this shot, the Rule of Thirds can be applied. While El and half of Mike are in the second third/ third third, both half of Mike and Will are in the same third. This is also the third on the left, which is where (in western cultures) people begin to look at images from (reading from left to right). The fact that Will looks at Mike when he says 'Thanks' is the first thing that the audience is intended to notice (because its on the left), even if it is very subtle.

It is also important to note that the writers of the show know, in this moment, that Will is in love with Mike, they've had that planned out from the start (this is undeniably canon, unlike Mike's feelings to Will). Therefore, it is interesting that they included him in this shot and the next part too:

Like?? what was the point of the directors putting him in this part? Placing him in an interactional role with Mike in a Mike and El scene is just interesting to me. Like,,,, also could Mike not have talked to El with Will there?

After Will gets up, there is this really awkwardly long part where Will goes from the left third to the right third of the screen and just stays there? Like he's still in the shot (which they can easily catch and retake if they needed to). Why do the writers/directors want you to take such notice of his presence?

Also, going back to the fact that Will has to leave for Mike to be able to talk to El. Again, the directors did not need to put Will in this scene, they could have had him doing something else. Instead, they had him there to subtly further his character arc of being selfless/being shoved away by Mike in favour of El. It's also maybe simply because Mike just can't handle having both Will and El in the same context without ignoring one for the other, because he holds them to the same romantic standard.

We see this mishandling of El and Will in the airport scene, the whole time Mike is with El in the beginning of S3, Rink o Mania, the dinner after Rink o Mania etc. Basically, when both El and Will are around, he feels like he has to get rid of Will to be able to be romantic towards El, despite being able to talk about it to Lucas. When it's just him and Will, he's pretty happy (we see this in the 'Cool. Cool.' scene and the 'Guess it's up to us again' scene which are the only two scenes in S4 where Mike believes he is no longer in a relationship with El and just thinks he needs to team up with Will and go back to Hawkins without El). Therefore, he needed Will out the way because he can't be romantic with his girlfriend with Will distracting him lmao <3

Third Thing: Lucas is the one to encourage Mike to make up with El.

To be honest, him encouraging him alone isn't really that convincing of the fact that Mike is queer coded blah blah, like, your friend is allowed to say 'That was the Olive branch! Your way in!' without it being queercoding. The queercoding however, comes with the reaction to that information.

First, I want to point to something I may bring up in the future of this series. In S1, Lucas is the first person to ever suggest that there might be something romantic going on between Mike and El. When he says "Why don't you just marry her?", Mike does not go all ooooh flustery and blushy, he does not go 'EW GROSS' like a lot of boys that age would, instead he just acts confused. Multiple times.

The first time is when he goes, "Lucas what are you talking about?" The second is in response to Lucas going "Mike, seriously?" saying "What?" again. When Lucas then teases him about caring about her, he just says "Shut up Lucas" in this really tired tone, rather than a flustered or angry one. He basically gets the idea that he probably should like El romantically, if he shows even any care towards her.

Now, throughout S3, Lucas is the one to constantly question Mike's actions towards El. He's confused on why he won't tell her the truth about Hopper, and everything else, which all culminates into this "Oh my god. You're hopeless," when referring to picking up signals about girls.

I must say this rn too: You don't pick up on signals you don't want to receive. You do pick up on signals you do want to receive. I think most of us know what it's like to have a crush. You constantly look out for little things and overanalyse their actions towards you. But Mike has no clue. Maybe because.... he just doesnt feel that way.

Okay going back to reactions. Basically, you would kind of expect Mike's reaction to hearing that his girlfriend, that he's sooooo sad about losing oh nooooo, has decided to reach out and say that she's okay with him would be excitement, right?

When Lucas is describing how he's going to let Mike talk to El, Mike looks extremely nervous, which I get. It's normal to feel nervous in this situation, but the thing is, El seems okay with him, surely he would at least have a little light in his eyes?

When Lucas has to say 'Talk to her, alright?' (as if Mike has no fucking clue) Mike nods and then there is a swell in the music, the camera zooms in on him, and instead of the music swelling to some nice, positive tones, it's almost foreboding, mimicking the mixed feelings swirling in Mike's brain. His face also kind of looks.... weird like he's unsure, or maybe he's disappointed? Nervous? idk

I would understand this to be a little romantic if he smiles, but jesus, he does not crack a single grin at this part.

It almost seems like he's deciding to do something he doesn't really want to. I think he was completely content with the fact that she helped them, but didn't want to do anything about it because he's totally fine being on good terms with her, obviously, but not necessarily on romantic terms with her. Maybe he's fine with the fact she doesn't really want to be with him.

However, after Lucas says this stuff, now he's looking over at her and thinking, wait, maybe she does want to be with me.

But instead of a:

Wow, maybe she does want to be with me! :D

It's a:

Oh, so she does want to be with me.

^basically this means Mike decides, based on his encouragement from Lucas rather than his own feelings, that he should talk to her. What can he say to Lucas here? That he doesn't want to? That isn't really an option for him.

Fourth Thing: Okay this is very small but for some reason this scene is interspersed with scenes of Jonathan and Nancy getting almost killed by the mindflayer army like???

Why would they cut from this very tense scene where these beloved characters are about to be killed to this scene between Mike and El where everything is fine!

It's like.,,,, they want the audience to be tense watching them, even if it's not directly for the right reasons. They want the audience to maybe feel the tension in the foreboding nature of the fact that the mindflayer is in the same building as them, meaning there is always some danger lurking in the background.

Okay hope you enjoyed today's byler evidence :) stay tuned for tomorrow's!

#byler #byler nation #byler endgame #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #stranger things 5 #byler evidence #byler proof #miwiheroes daily byler

241 notes · View notes

spanktony · 4 months ago

Text

prologue. | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — none.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 1.3k

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— dude, i've been writing this series like crazy to the point im almost finished. and i HATE the first 3-4 chapters because they're kinda boring bruh. but happy new years guys! enjoy!

taglist — open!

series masterlist. main masterlist. next.

the first few months back in seoul were nice.

actually, more than nice, it was everything you hoped for after being on the road bouncing from city to city.

you had just gotten off a mini u.s. tour, with a big emphasis on mini because it was only around seven cities in total. but even that small stretch was a whirlwind of airport terminals, crowded venues, and late nights in hotel rooms that all started to blend together.

you had missed seoul, specifically your grandmother's house, because that is where most of your childhood memories took place.

born in new york, you were adopted by two of the kindest people you'd ever known. your parents met in the city, fell in love, and decided to start a family through adoption. your mom, who was korean, made sure you spent every summer in seoul with your grandma so you could stay connected to your roots—learning the language and culture firsthand.

it was her way of preserving what mattered, and you were grateful for it. those summers with your grandma was something you'd cling onto till eternity.

your parents did an amazing job of raising you—big props to them.

now, at 22, you were five years into your career in music. producer, singer-songwriter, performer—if it involved music, you were all in.

things had moved fast: two grammys out of the four nominations, three spotify 1 billion streams plaques that all hung proudly in your studio, and countless music festivals under your belt. you had done everything, from coachella to lollapalooza to bonnaroo and a slew of others.

though you were proud of all you'd achieved, the constant performing was beginning to take its toll. you needed a break from the spotlight, from the endless cycle of promotions and tours. you loved the hell out of your fans, but man you were tired.

so, when you told your management you wanted to step back from performing and focus on writing and producing, they were hesitant. they had their plans for you, but they knew better than to argue when you were so adamant. they respected your decision, and now here you were, doing exactly what you wanted. helping others create music, being behind the scenes rather than on stage, where you could breathe easier.

after months of your team sending your demos out to various artists, you finally got a callback from smtown. saying you were nervous was an understatement. the nerves had settled in your chest and stayed there, a heavy weight that didn't want to go away.

you had written this demo with a friend a few months ago, and it was one of your favorites. it was a little different from the usual songs you produced, and it was a risk. but when the call came, your team couldn't have been more supportive. you were excited but terrified at the same time.

that brings you to today, a month later, sitting in the lobby of the smtown building.

your legs bounced uncontrollably as you stared at the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes until the meeting started. you were early—not too early—but the wait was killing you. the lobby was quiet, which was unusual since the building was constantly buzzing with artists coming and going. the company was big on privacy, though. they always tried to make sure no one was photographed, and you respected them for it.

your manager sat beside you, cool as always, one hand scrolling through his phone while the other rested casually on his knee. you had known him since you were 19, fresh to the music scene and pretty much a mess. he was assigned to keep your career on track, and while he took his job seriously, he didn’t have the whole uptight vibe that most other people in the industry did. he was cool, collected, and a little sassy, which you appreciated more than you'd like to admit.

"seriously, can you stop moving so much?" he said, not even looking up from his phone. "you're making me dizzy just watching you."

"i'm just... excited," you mumbled, forcing yourself to sit still. "i can't help it."

he rolled his eyes dramatically and shook his head. "excited? you look like you're about to pass out. you do know that they already liked your song, right? they called us in."

"yeah, i know," you replied, trying to shake the jitters. "but, you know... they could change their minds. or something."

"or something," he mimicked. a glare shot his way, one that he didn't seem to mind at all. he was used to your glares. he had dealt with them for the last three years, after all. "please. just relax, okay? i'm sure it'll go well."

you nodded, taking a deep breath.

glancing down at your phone to see your mom's text, smiling to yourself. she always knows how to make you feel at home, even from halfway across the world.

mom ❤️: tell your dad that he's too old for tiktok. he keeps trying to dance.

you snicker. a response from your father quickly comes, adding another grey bubble to your screen from your family's group chat.

dad 💙: tell your mom to mind her own business and to get off my phone!

you slip your phone back into your pocket as your manager taps your shoulder, his hand lingering on your shoulder before he gestures for you to follow him.

you rise from the seat, following behind him as another figure begins leading him. lots of leading. so many twists and turns. and then an elevator, which the three of you step into, where you immediately blow a quick raspberry, the sound loud and a little childish. the corners of your mouth twitch as you try to stifle a laugh.

you glance up at your manager, who doesn't seem to mind the odd noise at all—he's used to you and your little ways. when you look at the other man, he looks surprised but intrigued. you think he's trying not to laugh as well.

stepping off the elevator and rounding a corner of the building, you pull the brim of your hat down a bit more with your right hand, hoping to cover a little more of your face. it's a nervous habit that's stuck with you since the beginning of your career.

your manager, walking just ahead, casts a quick glance back at you. his expression is neutral, but there's a certain glint in his eyes that tells you he's as excited as you are, if not more. the other man—a member of the smtown staff, you assume—keeps pace, a very fast pace, as he's much taller than either of you.

curse tall people and their long legs.

the three of you finally stop outside a room marked 115.

your manager turns to look at you, a smile on his face.

"this is it," he says. "are you ready?"

silence.

karina's eyes are unfocused, staring after your footsteps that are moving further and further away. it's an early morning, and the group has been called into the company's building for an important meeting revolving around their upcoming comeback. it had been a long couple of months since their last project, and everyone was eager to dive into new material.

the sound of her manager's voice, calling her name, pulls her out of her reverie.

"karina?"

she blinks, her gaze snapping back toward the voice that is holding the boardrooms' main door open, awaiting her entrance. karina blinks a few more times, her eyes refocusing as she shakes off the lingering thoughts of the stranger she had just seen.

she's usually good at recognizing people in this building, but she doesn't know who the person is. the black new york yankees hat was pulled so low over their face that she couldn't make out any features.

"karina," her manager calls again, a little louder.

"yes, sorry, i'm coming."

she steps into the boardroom, a small room with a long, sleek table and a whiteboard at the front of the room. several of her fellow members are already seated at the table, along with their managers and a couple of other staff members.

series masterlist. main masterlist. next.

200 notes · View notes

dilfdater420 · 2 months ago

Text

#dilfdater420 : SCENARIO--what if you and Cecil Stedman were sworn enemies with similar jobs (both rallying assets for your own interests, so you'd be the leader of the "Evil GDA" (lol)) and you were finally caught? headcanons and drabbles under the cut

TAGS: no beta we die like ... i shouldn't say... gn reader (they/them pronouns are used when referring to you). "___" is used in place of y/n. "<>" means timeskip btw. cecil hates you. you love antagonizing him. interrogation scene. enemies to two individuals who understand each other, one begrudgingly so.

Cecil feels like a weight has been lifted of his shoulders.

The two of you have been in a heated battle of loud atrocities committed on each other. You're the one behind the scenes of plenty of villain operations, guiding them, gathering intelligence, making deals with devils—which is actually something you and Cecil have in common.

The similarities between you both is something Cecil adamantly dislikes. It makes him think about himself too much. His logical sense of what's right and what's wrong is almost the same, the only thing separating the both of you is your individual philosophies. His, the fact that humanity deserves to be protected, yours, the complete annihilation of mankind is due.

You both do anything to act in accordance with your beliefs.

When captured, extensive measures are taken to make sure you, not only never leave being the same person you were when you came in, but also reveal all of your secrets to the GDA.

The difficult part of this is that you're not an easy target. How do you threaten someone who's ready to die for their beliefs?

Unfortunately for Cecil, he has one last idea—but that means having to talk to you.

—

"Sir, they're not complying with anything we've thrown at them."

Cecil sighed, head in his hands, elbows pressed against his desk. This whole couple of months has been exhausting.

There's no reprieve from you, anything Donald could think of, his department could think of, hell, even he could think of, none of it would work. You were so set in your morals, prepared to die to prove a point.

"Of course they aren't, Donald. Of course."

"Our team that's been trying to crack them," he pauses, "they don't know what else to try, sir."

"And we have tried water boarding, right?"

"Yes."

"White torture?"

"Hm."

"Attempted death by a thousand cuts?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fuck." His frown lines deepen. "I really thought that would work."

After a moment, Cecil piqued up. "Let me talk to them."

Donald's eyebrows raised. "Are you sure, sir?"

"If nothing else has worked, I might as well. Plus, I have an idea that might scare them into working with us."

"What an unexpected surprise!"

"Well aren't you a ball of sunshine?" Cecil deadpanned.

You smiled. "You haven't seen anything yet, outside of these chains my shine is atomic."

He hated this. He didn't like the way you looked into him, as if you knew him. "Listen, ___, you aren't getting out the easy way. Either you work with us or we keep trying."

You kept staring at him.

"What are you trying to gain with this? Is the damnation of an entire race of people this important?"

You raised a brow, "Is you going the lengths you do every day to protect the human race important? Then you have your answer."

He grunted, "What if it wasn't? What if I do it because no one else will?"

"Then it still has merit, importance—same as my job."

"No, what you do isn't a job. It's not noble, not a sacrifice."

"I've sacrificed."

"At the expense of a stupid dream." He leaned onto his knees in his seat, fists clasped together.

"Just as stupid as your determination to resist against Viltrumite rule."

Disregarding the fact you somehow have that intel, "Do you want humankind to be enslaved? I thought you wanted us all dead?"

"Of course I don't. I'm just pointing out the obvious."

You peered into each other's eyes.

"We're more similar than you like to admit."

You've touched him.

"Bullshit."

"Don't dismiss it, if you're anything like me, you've thought about it."

He broke eye contact.

"We both act in drastic ways for opposite beliefs. We are two sides of the same coin."

"No, I am nothing like you."

"You recall Mr. D.A. Sinclair do you not? He's employed under you."

"Don't you dare try to compare that—"

"He should be rotting in jail. He's a mad man, irreparably ruined many lives of mankind that you so undoubtedly protect. Why employ him?"

"His reanimen are—" Cecil cut himself off.

Your smile deepened. "Cmon, you can say it."

Cecil stayed quiet.

"I'm not criticizing you, Cecil. When I find useful pawns for my work, I exploit them too."

"We are not the same."

"I'm the worst reflection of yourself that you will ever see."

Cecil stood up, walking to the door, fists balled. "This isn't over, ___."

"I hope not. Good talk, Global Defense Agency Director."

He stopped at the door for a second before continuing. "Fuck you."

He slammed the door behind him.

a/n: Cecil knows he's a pos, but to what extent?

I love scenarios where characters have to question their actions and if they're really at the level of merit they ascribe them to. Dusttale Sans fics prepared me for this day.

I would've added more exposition in the middle, but the dialogue should speak for itself. Same think with the reader and what tone to employ. I don't want to speak for you guys more than I already do lol.

Hope you all enjoyed. Lemme know if you'd like a part two of this. I have ideas for the reader and ways to mess Cecil tf UP.

Oh and if you ever wanna request something I have guidelines/boundaries up now. I also have commisions for those that like might like my writing

Thanks for reading <3

#dilfdater420 #cecil stedman #cecil stedman x y/n #cecil stedman x reader #cecil stedman x you #cecil x y/n #cecil x reader #cecil x you #im ceciling it #cecil stedman headcanons #cecil stedman is hot #invincible #enemies to lovers #the lovers comes later #probably #maybe #perchance

126 notes · View notes

forestleavescat · 7 months ago

Text

Moominvalley: Or Not at All

A long post about Moominvalley through the different seasons. Planning, potential, promises, and outcomes.

This won’t go super far into detail about season 4 but it will talk about a certain outcome as well as handling of characters and relationships. If you don’t want any spoilers or info on the fourth season steer clear

(I’m not the best with titles)

I watched season 4 of moominvalley last night and I was pretty dang disappointed in how certain things were handled. Don’t get me wrong. There was some nice stuff. But it still felt like it was largely missing what made me love the show so much from the start. As well as things I had been looking forward to from the books. Above all else, I feel like their handling of the fandom’s favorite pairing was bad. I can’t even begin to put into words how upset I am since gutsy and by extension moominvalley felt like a company that wouldn’t do this. I want to put my thoughts on paper so to speak.

It’s insanely disappointing to know that this company has been queerbaiting since day one. This show is a huge comfort to me and it was nice to watch since it helped me feel more at ease with my own sexuality. But now that feeling has been largely reversed because I know that those moments were manufactured to sell the show only for them to drop them by the end. So let’s look at things

Queer coding has existed for a long time. It’s helped creators give hints and nods to a character’s identity or hints of a relationship when times and places don’t exactly allow for it. There are many stories that have queer coding and give this beautiful subtext that those in the community can enjoy. Even though it would remain ambiguous whether a character was gay or two men or women were dating, the coding allowed it to be suggested even when it wasn’t allowed given the time period.

Queerbaiting is almost the opposite of this. Queerbaiting comes about more from existing in a time or place where it is accepted but instead of giving genuine representation, a person uses the desire to see that representation to sell a product. Moments between characters that are clearly more than friendship only to disappear - often replaced by a hetero pairing. (Tbf the character who was implied to have feelings for someone of the same gender would still be bi or pan but it stings when the idea of something between two people of the same gender was suggested but removed) Queerbaiting has been an extremely frustrating thing to experience in fandom spaces. Series like voltron, sherlock, supernatural, etc. You get invested in these characters. There’s a possibility and every moment that suggests it could be more gets you hooked. Similar to how miraculous viewers became invested in the romance that’s hinted since day one. If you put the time and effort into using that for a story and draw people in with it only to take it away it’s bordering false advertising. It sucks because you spent time caring about it and waiting to see how it would play out.

I mean just look at this. The moominvalley team did this deliberately. I mean, they included that one scene in the teaser which made it seem like more snufmin. It felt like a taste of what the season would offer but in reality it was one of few crumbs. And I mean crumbs. Because compared to the other seasons there was hardly anything. Their moments didn’t have this underlying feeling that they usually did. Every other season felt like it had underlying feelings to be explored. But here it became hollow. And snufkin took a backseat to a lot of the action this season

But they definitely knew that the fans were interested in this pairing. It’d be tough to get into the moomins without knowing about this part of the story and community. And they acknowledged this idea of moomin and snufkin multiple times in interviews and qnas.

youtube

And voice actors aren’t the ones who decide but there were more than just vas discussing this.

This series started off with their relationship. Episode one ended with the first mention of snufkin who’d be returning to the valley in the very next episode. That entire second episode gave a clear look into how their relationship would develop throughout the series. Moomin waiting for snufkin longingly while snufkin took his time until showing up felt right all while missing moomintroll. This episode has a sort of sense that there could be something more to them. Especially seeing as moomin is more focused on snufkin than snorkmaiden, his love interest. The following episode gives us this:

youtube

And while moomin wants the dragon to be his loyal pet, we know that “And just promise me this, that you'll give me all your kisses Every winter, every summer, every fall”

is referring to somebody other than that. This leaned much heavier into the potential for something beyond friendship between them.

There are the usual moments that could go either way, with focus between them and close contact.

youtube

This is more similar to other adaptations where they have a clear, close relationship. But in most of those you could come to love the pairing but you generally know they won’t do something unambiguous. Just the occasional scene that could be read as potentially romantic.

Moominvalley doesn’t strictly stick to this though. It feels similar to the original works where there is something ambiguously there. Then it further implies that there will be something important between them storywise. You get Tooticky saying that there are other lost souls waiting to be heard before the camera cuts to Snufkin leaving the valley alone.

And this didn’t really get fulfilled in any real way. Yet it implies that the future of the series will go in a direction where moomin is the one to help snufkin in some way. That part isn’t even romantic, but it goes to show that they stopped focusing on this important connection between them.

Their relationship in season 2 continues very beautifully. Moomin immediately wants to go make sure snufkin is okay when the volcano’s gonna erupt. There’s an entire conversation that highlights their difference of perspective with loving vs possessing in regards to the ruby and the hobgoblin. Something that is linked to their relationship and things they need to figure out. Then when they have to leave the valley, moomin wonders if he’ll ever see snufkin again. On top of that, he and snorkmaiden have their break up.

Which I want to talk about their relationship a bit. A majority of the episodes that feature them as leads do it with a wedge between them. Their relationships is honestly not great going both ways. They clash and are generally unhappy. And usually moomin has to apologize for something that doesn’t exactly feel is entirely on him. Little My I get. I mean he didn’t think the note would get to mymble but this was still a genuine mess up on his part. But he ended up on a rock in the middle of the sea over the ghost episode. And snorkmaiden spends much of their time making a home together getting angry because he misses his family and hasn’t come to terms with saying goodbye to them. There are times they’re together where he’s selfish and she’s just angry at him. They don’t feel like a happy couple to cheer for. Back in 90s moomins I actually did like them. They were cute. I was a bit divided between that and snufmin because there were these moments that really did count for a lot and had such a wholesome feeling. But moominvalley honestly made me cheer for a break up. Meanwhile, he and snufkin have this relationship that they’re navigating in moominvalley. They don’t argue much even when they have different perspectives. Moomin admires snufkin and in some ways tries to emulate him. But all while still being his own moomin and figuring himself out.

The two are still given parallels in little moments such as zooming in when they take each other’s hands.

So back to season 2 and how it handled snufmin. When moomin leaves the valley we see snufkin dealing with that absence for a change. He begins to understand how moomin feels when he’s gone. While he’s at the moomin house he seems pretty in his element for the most part. He seems happy to play along and give toffle an idea of what the moomin family was like. But in that there are scenes where he’s looking for a note. We see bits of how much he misses moomin and wants to know where his friend has gone and when he’ll be back. This is the beginning of a shift in their relationship. Because snufkin gets to feel what moomin feels like. And when he hears that the moomins are coming his face lights up the way moomintroll’s would.

youtube

They’re often portrayed in a way that shows that they’re the most important person to the other. There’s this sort of soft undertone that seems to suggest feelings. And all while their relationships grows and changes and they become all the better for it.

Also there’s this

youtube

Season 3!

Season 3 felt like there was a change in direction. I feel at this point that there was deliberate queerbaiting but I also know that there was a shift somewhere around season 3. We got the music cut. The voice actor for moomin changed. There were some adjustments with the writing team. But they still deliberately put in scenes with this duo. And with romantic framing. I could be convinced that season 1 and 2 were made with the idea of them as endgame in some capacity. That the queerbaiting wasn’t from day 1 and that it began here. There were really great moments with them. But it feels like they shoehorn snorkmaiden in as a romantic interest again. A lot of episodes with her here don’t exactly make it explicit but there are some that nail it in. They reunite and it almost feels like they’re back together again without a full conversation. Especially with the final episode. I feel like the narrative would’ve been richer if they hadn’t done that considering the way they’ve been building snufmin up.

But I’ll focus on moomin and snufkin for now. When snufkin sees moomin again moomin goes for the greeting he’s been used to but snufkin gives him a hug. That description alone won’t do it justice though. The music rises as it zooms in on their eyes as they make their way to each other. When snufkin hugs moomin you can see the joy from both of them. It shows how their greetings and by extension their relationship has evolved over the seasons.

youtube

And then it cuts to snorkmaiden.

This becomes a notable pattern in season 3. It’ll give a really meaningful scene that pushes snufkin and moomin in a more romantic light only to undercut it by reminding you that snorkmaiden is here. It’s at this point where it feels like they know a ton of fans are here for snufmin. They include the pairing. But they also seem to be reminding us that snorkmaiden is here to stay and in a more romantic way. But there’s still this hope, especially if you recall everything from seasons 1 and 2 and the way that they felt. Especially if you rewatch them right before watching season 3. And the show very clearly uses that and makes it feel like there’s a chance. Makes the viewers hope and stick around to find out.

So let’s go through season 2. Moomin and snufkin make some progress on their relationship. They’ve switched positions now and have more of an idea of how the other feels when one of them leaves. And from there they communicate that. Especially moomin. This is shown to a degree in the episode with the fairgrounds. Again in lonely mountain. There are also little nods here and there about their relationship. But again. Lonely mountain is the big one. It starts with little my getting on moomin’s case for worrying over his ‘precious snufkin’

As usual moominmama also seems to act like she knows there’s something more to his relationship with snufkin. Papa remains oblivious though. There’s a parallel between the parents and snufmin too. But the most well known part is this

youtube

look. there’s nothing remotely platonic about this. This is one of those things that someone straight and homophobic could detect. The point where they’d stop arguing ‘they’re just friends’ because there’s no way that’s all. I mean just listen to moomin’s “yes” when snufkin goes to add something. There’s so much hope and feeling in that word that I would love to get my hands on the script to find the voice direction for that. I mean come on

And better yet it ends with an interruption so we know they’ll have a whole heart to heart later. A conversation where they lay out their feelings. The feelings that were clearly present here.

Except they don’t

Anyway the season goes on. Moomin, snufkin, and obligatory third wheel sniff go on a journey to take the sun back after it was stolen. They get it back and the season ends with a beautifully queer scene that promises more to come from these two.

youtube

Except that a few minutes prior snorkmaiden calls moomin her soulmate and they have their usual thing. And even after snorkmyden really did get some good content this season.

Look, I know that snorkmyden was probably not on their minds throughout production. There’s a difference between the way they handle snufmin and the way they handle snorkmyden. Both duos get great development in their relationships but while there are a ton of cute moments between snorkmaiden and little my, it never feels like there’s a focus on making that endgame. It feels more like snufmin did in some of the other adaptations - something with cute moments and a genuine bond that could be seen as romantic but it’s highly unlikely it won’t be. I want to say this since this series didn’t feel that way for snufmin. It felt like the first chance of it working out fully. I put a lot of scenes in here showing it but the first two season really show it in a way clips and gifs can’t. There’s just so much there and it’s beautiful and sweet. It feels hopeful for them.

Until season 4. Season 4 feels like the team shrugged off all of it. They step even further away. It’s like season 3 but without any of the scenes between them. Suddenly, you’re looking at scenes between them where they talk and have physical contact but the deeper feelings are completely gone. It’s like the anime. Where you can smile about it and think ‘aw them’ but you know it won’t happen. They heavily lean to snorkmaiden and moomin instead. This is the final season. They know people will watch to see if moomin and snufkin go anywhere romantically. And even if people don’t finish it, they’ve got people paying for memberships just to see if it happens. So it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t happen. Because they’ve secured the views and the money.

I do want to say that when I refer to it as becoming canon I don’t know if they’d call each other boyfriends or even kiss. But I would expect them to acknowledge it as there being something more. Like the series ending with them having a discussion about how much they mean to each other. Something that shows they’ll go into the future and continue to get close. Physical closeness like a hug or one putting his hand on the others or even just leaning against each other. Whatever it would be I’d expect more than this. Because they very clearly built these two to be inseparable in that one required the other to undergo their full arc. The show starts with a promise that their relationship will be close to the story. But then season 4 hardly shows snufkin at all

This is what queerbaiting is. And I never expected it to happen with this series. Not after the team talked about it with care. It’s such a gut punch after waiting for five years to see how it’d turn out. I don’t know if they always intended it to be a way to bring in customers. Maybe it was initially going to work out but they changed it between season 2 and 3. I don’t know. But this. This really is queerbaiting. We live in a time where gay relationships are more accepted. They show up in the media more. We’re finally at a time where this relationship could be made more explicit instead of having this ambiguously romantic subtext. And if someone made a new adaptation of moomins and didn’t do that, that would be perfectly and completely fair and okay. If they didn’t consistently imply that there could and even would be something more. But here they used a very old and well loved pairing to gather fans and make money only to never have it come to fruition. Season 4 of moominvalley felt like companies on july 1st. I literally can’t think of a better comparison for how it feels. The first video starts with the quote “The Spring Tune is where we say that this series is going to be different. That you’re going to have to wait and give it time and just be patient. And wait for the story to unfold.”

And so many people did. But then it turned out like this. And I don’t know if that was always the intention. Because it feels like that interview was suggesting that it would go in that direction. But heck. The whole series up until season 3 felt like it would go in that direction. And then it didn’t.

Gay representation is something that has a huge positive impact on the lgbtq community. Even more so on the world overall since it allows people to see these relationships and shows that it’s okay for people to be gay. And it would be even nicer for a series that started off with that subtext got the full representation now that we’re in more accepting times. And it felt like it would be even more meaningful with recent treatment of gay stories.

Our flag means death was cancelled, shadow and bone, the owl house had its final season drastically shortened, good omens is only getting a single episode for their finale

Many are just getting dropped and in a time where this community needs them more than ever. These are shows that make people feel seen. Shows that bring a feeling of joy and comfort and acceptance. And it’s even worse to see that there’s still queerbaiting now. This could’ve had such a beautiful ending and likely would’ve been loved for many years to come if they committed to what they’d built up all this time. How could someone take a series created by a woman who not only added subtext in her original stories but was bi, and use it to build up a romantic story just to bring in money and then toss all that development away. I don’t know what else to say other than this is queerbaiting. And the gay community deserves better. I really did believe that moominvalley would do better by us.

#moominvalley season 4 #moominvalley #moomins #snufmin #snufkin #moomintroll #long post #moominvalley spoilers #Youtube

188 notes · View notes

ssa-dado · 8 months ago

Text

6 - Synthesis

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, slow burn

Summary: After an intense case, you and Hotch struggle with unresolved tensions from a previous argument. On the train back, Hotch overhears Peter comforting you about a recent tragedy, realizing he’s been blind to your pain. Later, Hotch unexpectedly shows up at your apartment, opening up and apologizing for his emotional distance, leading to a heartfelt moment of mutual vulnerability. That evening, you attend Peter’s welcome-back party, feeling lighter and reconnecting with the team. That's when Peter makes an unusual bet with you.

Warnings: death, grief, emotional abuse, domestic violence, family dysfunction.

Word Count: 7.6k

Dado's Corner: Phi posting two chapters in less than 12 hours? More likely than you think. I was supposed to wait until tomorrow, but I just couldn’t help myself. Thank you all so much for the love and support you’ve shown for the series so far! Each of you holds a special place in my cold little heart. Please don’t hate me after this - it hurts me, too - but hey, there’s some interrogation room Aaron to sweeten things up. I’m particularly proud of this cute, lovely chapter. It doesn’t make me want to jump out the window. Not even a little bit. Embrace the pain.

previous part ; masterlist

Gideon smiled knowingly, his eyes shifting between you and Hotch. “Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he mused, almost as if he were speaking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. “Funny how life always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”

●

The observation room was dimly lit, casting long, uneven shadows over you and Peter as you stood behind the two-way mirror, your heartbeat seemed to echo in the quiet, barely audible over the hum of the fluorescent light. You watched Hotch on the other side, preparing to interrogate the suspect, he appeared calm as usual, wearing his mask of stoicism proudly on his face, but you could tell the tension was palpable.

The room beyond the glass was stark, the suspect sat at the metal table gleaming under the harsh light with a smug expression, arms casually draped over the back of his chair, utterly unbothered. Te view was borderline infuriating.

The hair on your arms stood up, not just from the cold, but from the overwhelming sense of helplessness that had settled over the case. You couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you were grasping at straws, the weight of the local police’s blunders pressing heavily on your chest. They had fumbled, and badly. Critical evidence had slipped through their fingers, lost or contaminated in the chaos. You didn’t even want to hear the whole story—you were too furious, your senses shutting down as the same detective who had once doubted your work stumbled through a pathetic apology. All you had now was Hotch. No physical proof, no solid evidence to tie this man to the crimes you knew he’d committed.

Your gaze flicked back to the suspect, his arrogance nauseating. He knew the game, knew the system, and worse, he knew how to manipulate it to his advantage. There was a clock ticking in your mind, every second precious, the sense of urgency suffocating. If Hotch couldn’t break him - if he couldn’t find a way past the layers of lies and smug indifference - you’d lose him. You couldn’t afford that, not now.

Peter’s jaw clenched as he observed the scene, his frustration evident. “This was a mistake,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We warned them not to bring him in without something solid. Now we’re stuck trying to clean up their mess.”

You nodded, your mind still reeling from the argument with Hotch the night before, as if all of this mess wasn’t already enough for your nerves to handle. The tension between you two had lingered, unresolved and heavy, adding another layer to your frustration. You tried to shake it off, but it clung to you, making it even harder to focus. “Yeah, and now Hotch has to pull off a miracle,” you said, your voice tinged with both a tinge of annoyance and worry. “He’s got one shot to get this right.”

Peter turned his attention back to the interrogation room, his eyes narrowing as Hotch sat across from the suspect. “If anyone can do it, it’s him. I’ve seen Hotch work multiple times, and somehow he even looks sharper, more intense.”

Inside the room, Hotch began his interrogation with a measured calm, his eyes locked on the suspect, who lounged back in his chair, exuding a quiet confidence. Hotch started with the basics, the routine questions meant to establish rapport, but the suspect was playing his own game, answering with a smug smile and evasive nonchalance.

Hotch leaned back, crossing his arms as he observed the suspect’s every move, every twitch. “You’ve been careful,” Hotch said, his voice steady but probing. “I’ll give you that. You’ve covered your tracks well. But you slipped up, everyone makes mistakes, especially when they think they’re untouchable.”

The suspect smirked, feigning boredom. “You’re wasting your breath, Agent Hotchner. You and I both know you have nothing on me - no evidence, no witnesses. You’re grasping at straws.”

Hotch’s gaze remained unflinching, but you could see the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he leaned in just slightly, narrowing the space between the two of them. “You’re right, we don’t have physical evidence, but we do have you, and that’s enough. Because here’s the thing - you’re not as smart as you think you are. You’ve made this personal, and personal is messy.”

The suspect chuckled, tapping his fingers lightly on the table as if this were a game to him. “Oh, please. I’ve seen every tactic in the book, and I’ve got an answer for all of them. You can’t intimidate me, Hotchner. I know my rights. You’ve got nothing.”

Hotch’s expression remained stoic, but there was a flash of determination in his eyes. “You think this is about intimidation? You’re missing the point. This isn’t about fear, it’s about you and the mistakes you’ve made. You’ve left a trail, little hints of who you really are. You think you’ve hidden them, but they’re there, buried in the details.”

The suspect’s confident facade faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, scoffing. “You’re reaching. This isn’t some TV show where the bad guy breaks down in a dramatic confession. I’m not saying a damn thing without my lawyer.”

Hotch’s demeanor shifted, a cold, calculating edge creeping into his voice. “Your lawyer? You think your lawyer’s going to save you? They’ll do their job, make sure you’re comfortable, make sure you feel safe. But at the end of the day, they’re not in here with you, they’re not the ones facing the consequences of your actions - you are. And you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

From the other side of the glass, you watched Hotch methodically chip away at the suspect’s arrogance. Each line of questioning was a carefully placed strike, designed to weaken his resolve, but the suspect wasn’t giving in easily. He deflected, twisted Hotch’s words, and tried to turn the conversation back on him.

“You think you’re so righteous, don’t you?” the suspect sneered, leaning forward with a glint of disdain in his eyes. “Sitting there, acting like you’ve got the moral high ground. You don’t know me, Agent Hotchner. You don’t know a damn thing about what I’ve been through, the people I’ve dealt with - you think you’re better than me?”

Hotch didn’t flinch even if the last words reminded him of the argument he had with you down at the lobby. “No, I don’t think I’m better than you, but I do know who you are. You’re the guy who blames everyone else when things go wrong, the guy who hides behind his intellect because he’s too scared to admit he’s just another coward trying to prove he’s not afraid. But guess what? That act doesn’t work on me.”

The suspect’s composure slipped, his anger flaring as Hotch hit a nerve. “You don’t get to judge me! You sit there like you’re some kind of saint, but you’re just as flawed as the rest of us. You have no right—”

Hotch cut him off sharply, his voice cold and unyielding. “You’re right. I’m not perfect. I’ve made my mistakes, and I own them. But I’m not the one hiding behind excuses, you are. You’re the one who thinks he can play God, decide who deserves to live or die based on your twisted sense of justice. But here’s the thing: you’re not in control, not anymore.”

From the observation room, you felt your chest tighten. Hotch was relentless, pushing the suspect further than you’d ever seen him push anyone before. It was as if he’d tapped into something raw and unforgiving, something that drove him to keep going, to tear down every last defense the suspect had.

Peter glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “I’ve never seen him go this hard. It’s like he’s on a mission.”

You nodded, the tension from last night’s argument still simmering inside you. You knew why Hotch was pushing himself like this: because of you, because of the unresolved words between you, and because he needed to prove something, maybe even to himself. “He’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.”

Inside the room, the suspect’s attitude was crumbling. Hotch leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, laced with a quiet menace. “You think you’re untouchable, that you’ve covered all your bases. But I’ve spent years in courtrooms taking down men just like you, men who thought they were too smart to get caught. I know every trick, every lie, every pathetic attempt to weasel your way out of the truth.”

The suspect’s face tightened, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to maintain control. But Hotch was unrelenting, his gaze piercing through every layer of the man’s defenses. “You don’t want to admit it, but you’re scared, I can see it in your eyes. You’re terrified that the truth is going to come out, that all your carefully crafted lies are going to fall apart right in front of you - so, here’s your last chance. Tell me the truth. Tell me why you did it.”

There was a beat of silence, a heavy pause as the suspect’s composure finally shattered. His shoulders slumped, his defiance giving way to resignation. He looked up at Hotch, defeated and angry, his voice breaking as he finally confessed, each word a bitter surrender. “Fine. Fine, you want the truth? I did it. I killed them. But you have no idea why. You don’t know what it’s like to be powerless.”

“No you’re right, I don’t.” Hotch sat back, a flicker of triumph in his eyes, though his expression remained guarded: he had what he needed. The confession was out, raw and unfiltered, pulled from the depths of the suspect’s desperation.

Peter let out a low whistle, still reeling from what he’d witnessed. “That was... intense. I’ve never seen Hotch like that, he’s kind of intimidating.”

You nodded in agreement, your gaze still fixed on Hotch as he calmly gathered his notes, preparing to leave the room. You could see the toll it had taken on him, the emotional weight he carried even as he walked out victorious, and as much as you wanted to celebrate the success, the confrontation from the night before still lingered, leaving you with the unsettling realization that this fight wasn’t just with the suspect - it was within Hotch himself.

When Hotch stepped out of the interrogation room, the tension in his posture seemed to ease, but only slightly. His face was set in its usual mask of calm control, yet there was a heaviness in his eyes, a flicker of something raw that he couldn’t quite hide. Peter clapped him on the back, a mix of admiration and relief in his expression. “Hell of a job, Hotch. You tore him apart. I’ve seen you work, but that was something else entirely.”

Hotch gave a tight nod, his jaw still clenched, but his gaze was already shifting past Peter, landing on you. His eyes were searching, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction, seeking some unspoken acknowledgment from you. “Thanks,” he said, his voice measured but tinged with exhaustion. “It had to be done.”

You stood there with your arms crossed, leaning against the wall, trying to maintain a composed exterior, but inside, you were anything but calm. Watching Hotch in that room, ruthlessly tearing down the suspect’s defenses, stirred something deep within you. It was impressive, yes, but also unsettling. You had never seen him so relentless, so driven - and you knew exactly what was fueling his determination.

As Hotch’s gaze lingered on you, there was a silent understanding between you, a shared acknowledgment of the emotional battlefield you both were navigating. The words from your argument the night before still echoed in your mind, sharp and unresolved, like an open wound that hadn’t had the chance to heal. The case had forced you both to set your personal issues aside, but now, in the aftermath, they were still there, hovering between you like a shadow neither of you could ignore.

Peter glanced between the two of you, sensing the charged atmosphere but choosing not to comment. He knew better than to pry, but even he could tell that whatever was going on between you and Hotch went deeper than the usual tension of a difficult case. “We got what we needed,” Peter said, trying to break the silence. “That’s what matters. Now we can finally put this bastard away.”

Hotch nodded, but his eyes never left yours, and in that moment, it felt like the rest of the room had faded away. It was just the two of you, caught in a silent standoff where neither of you knew how to take the next step. You wanted to say something, anything that would bridge the gap that had formed between you, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check.

The triumph of the confession felt hollow against the weight of what was still left unsaid. You and Hotch had always been able to read each other, but now, standing on opposite sides of this unspoken rift, it was as if the connection you’d relied on had fractured. There was so much you wanted to ask him: why he’d pushed so hard, why he seemed so desperate to prove something today, and why he couldn’t let his guard down, even for a moment. But instead, you just nodded, swallowing back the questions that burned at the back of your throat. “You did what you had to do,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it wavered slightly. “Good work, Hotch.”

Hotch’s gaze softened for a brief second, a flicker of regret or maybe gratitude crossing his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice lower, more personal than before. “We all did.”Peter’s presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone, but it didn’t ease the tension that thrummed between you and Hotch. As Hotch turned to leave, the weight of your argument still hung heavy, unresolved, and painful. You watched him go, the distance between you feeling wider than ever, despite being just a few feet apart.

And as you stood there, with Peter by your side and the echo of Hotch’s footsteps fading down the corridor, you realized that the hardest part of this case wasn’t just about catching a killer, it was about facing the fractures in your own relationships, the ones that no amount of profiling or interrogation could ever fix.

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks was a dull, constant noise that filled the otherwise quiet cabin. You sat alone, your head down and your pen moving steadily across the paper as you filled out your case report. It was a task you’d thrown yourself into, your way of avoiding the one thing you weren’t ready to confront: Hotch.

Hotch sat a few rows behind you, his back to you, mirroring your actions as he worked on his own report with a similar intensity. It was almost poetic how the two of you were so much alike: both of you throwing yourselves into your work to avoid the harder truths, and neither willing to make the first move toward reconciliation.

As you focused on your writing, you heard footsteps approach. You didn’t need to look up to know it was Peter; you’d recognized the casual confidence in his stride from a mile away. He slid into the seat beside you without asking, his presence a familiar and oddly comforting interruption.

Peter glanced at your half-filled report, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You never could sit still, could you?” he said, his voice soft but laced with a hint of fondness. “Always working, always thinking.”

You tried to muster a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just trying to get this done before we get back,” you said, your tone evasive. You knew why he’d come over, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the conversation you’d been avoiding since you’d seen him again.

Peter watched you for a moment, his expression shifting from casual to serious. He took a deep breath, glancing at the report before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter now, “I’ve been wanting to tell you this since I got back, but I didn’t want to bring it up while we were in the middle of the case.”

You stiffened, knowing exactly what he was going to say but hoping he wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your dad’s funeral,” Peter said, his voice heavy with regret. “I wanted to be, but I was stuck overseas. I hate that I wasn’t there.”

You clenched your jaw, staring down at the paper in front of you, your pen hovering uselessly above the page. The memories of that day flooded backstanding at the grave, the heavy weight of loss pressing down on your chest, and the overwhelming feeling of being completely and utterly alone. You’d been surrounded by people, but none of them had truly understood, none of them had been him.

“It’s fine, Pete,” you said, though your voice was shaky. “You were doing your job. Besides, it’s not like it would’ve changed anything.”

Peter shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes. “No, it’s not okay. You were always there for me, even when we were just kids trying to figure out what the hell we were doing with our lives. And I couldn’t even show up when you needed me the most.”

Peter studied you, his eyes searching yours. He could see the cracks you were trying so desperately to hide, the way you were holding yourself together with sheer willpower. “I should have been there,” he insisted gently. “I know how much you went through with him… I remember everything you told me about him.”

A knot formed in your throat as you thought back to your childhood, your father’s relentless work ethic, his unyielding drive for perfection. He had been your hero in so many ways, but he’d also been your downfall. You’d inherited his toxic trait of overworking yourself, the constant need to be better, to be more. It was how you’d coped with the chaos at home, the screaming matches between your parents that had been your daily soundtrack. Your mother, exasperated and exhausted, would often switch languages mid-argument to keep you in the dark, to protect you - or maybe just to exclude you - from the mess they had created.

“I was just a kid, you know?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with bitterness. “All I wanted was to understand why they were always fighting. I started learning every language my mom switched to, Italian, Spanish, anything that would give me a clue, but instead of finding answers, I just… found more reasons to stay away.”

Peter’s eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features as he listened. “You drowned yourself in books, in knowledge, just to escape,” he said, his voice low. “I remember you telling me that once, how you’d sit in those lecture halls at the university, absorbing everything because it was better than being home.”

Your childhood had been filled their voices rising in heated exchanges that always seemed to end in silence, your father retreating to his study to bury himself in more work, and your mother seeking solace in her books. To escape the turbulence at home, you’d thrown yourself into your studies with a fervor that bordered on obsession. You’d devoured literature, philosophy, psychology, anything that could distract you from the reality of your parents’ failing marriage, to gain a semblance of control in a world that often felt chaotic and out of reach.

You had become fluent in the languages they used to hide their pain from you, and in doing so, you became fluent in the art of distancing yourself from your own emotions. The habit of overworking, of pouring yourself into every task with unrelenting focus, was something you had learned from your father, a toxic legacy that you couldn’t quite shake, even now. It had been the source of countless arguments with your mother, who had begged you not to follow in his footsteps, to find balance, to live a life that wasn’t dictated by the demands of work. But it was easier said than done, and as the years went on, you found yourself mirroring his habits more than you cared to admit.

You nodded, swallowing hard against the emotion that threatened to choke you. “I kept pushing myself, kept chasing after something I couldn’t even name. My dad… he always told me that hard work was the only thing that mattered, he never slowed down, never stopped, and neither did I. Even when their marriage fell apart… even when he got sick. I just… I couldn’t stop.”

You hesitated, your eyes welling up with tears that you refused to let fall. “I didn’t even cry at his funeral, I just stood there, feeling nothing. And I haven’t been to visit his grave since.”

Peter gently reached out, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, tightly hugging you. “It’s okay not to be okay, Y/N,” he murmured. “You don’t have to carry this all on your own. The least I can do is be the shoulder you can lean on.” Peter squeezed your shoulder gently, his eyes filled with compassion. “Your dad was tough, but he loved you, Y/N. And you don’t have to prove anything to him, not anymore. You’re allowed to grieve, to feel lost, to not have all the answers.”

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “I know. But sometimes it’s hard to remember that.”

Hotch sat just behind you, his back facing yours, he had intended to keep to himself, to give you the space you needed, but the quiet murmurs of your conversation had carried over. He couldn’t help but overhear Peter’s words, and as he listened, a wave of guilt and realization washed over him.

Hotch had always prided himself on his ability to read people, to see through the masks they wore, but he hadn’t seen through yours. He hadn’t seen the pain you’d been hiding, the grief that had been eating away at you just beneath a slim surface. And suddenly, your words from the night before came crashing back: how he didn’t know you, how he’d never bothered to look beyond the professional facade you’d built.

His own mind flickered back to his childhood, the memories of his father’s anger, the violence that lurked behind every door. Hotch had spent years burying and hiding those scars, never letting anyone see how deeply they ran. He had kept it all locked away, just as you had, believing that the only way to survive was to keep moving, to never let the pain catch up.

For the first time, Hotch truly understood why you had lashed out at him. You had seen in him the very thing you feared in yourself: the relentless drive to work, to control, to avoid facing the hurt that lingered beneath. He realized now that you were so much more alike than he had ever imagined, both of you haunted by the ghosts of your pasts, both trying to outrun the pain that always seemed to catch up.

As Hotch stared out the window at the passing scenery, he felt a deep sense of remorse. He wished he had known, wished he had been able to offer you the support you so clearly needed. But all he could do now was hope that you would one day trust him enough to let him in, to share the burdens you had been carrying alone for far too long.

Peter’s voice broke the silence, pulling Hotch from his thoughts. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know that? But it’s okay to let someone else be strong for you, too.”

You nodded, wiping away the tears that had finally escaped. “Thanks, Pete. It’s just… it’s hard.”

“I know,” Peter said softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Hotch listened to the quiet exchange, the raw honesty between you and Peter striking a chord deep within him. He knew now that he couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that the walls he had built were enough to protect him or you. As the train sped toward Quantico, Hotch made a silent promise to himself: he would do better, he would be better. For you, and for himself.

Because in the end, you both deserved more than just the comfort of solitude. You deserved to be understood, to be seen, and to finally let go of the burdens you had carried for far too long.

Peter on the other hand had always been the kind of friend who could read you like a book, even when you tried to keep the pages closed. And after this emotional confrontation he knew he didn’t have to push further. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the way you were holding yourself together by the thinnest thread. So, he did what he always did best, he tried to lift your spirits, if only for a moment.

He leaned back in his seat, studying your expression with a knowing smile. “You know, Y/N, you don’t have to unload everything on me right now. You’re allowed to keep some things to yourself. You don’t owe anyone your pain.” His tone was light, but there was a deep, unspoken understanding beneath it. He knew you were struggling, and he wanted you to know that it was okay to take your time.

You gave him a small, tired smile, grateful for his patience. “I know, Pete. It’s just... hard to talk about. I’ve been so focused on work, it’s easier that way. It’s all I know.”

Peter nodded, his eyes softening with empathy. “I get it. But maybe it’s time to leave work behind, just for a little while. You don’t have to think about everything right now. Start small. Maybe try coming out of your room every once in a while?” He said it with a teasing grin, nudging your shoulder playfully, hoping to coax even the smallest laugh out of you.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at his attempt to lighten the mood. “I know, I’ve been a bit of a hermit lately. I guess it’s easier to just shut myself away.”

Peter’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, lucky for you, your presence is strictly required at my welcome-back party tonight. The team’s putting it together, and you have no excuses not to come. I already told them you’d be there.”

You groaned, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “Seriously? Peter, I don’t know if I’m up for-”

He cut you off, holding up a hand. “Ah-ah, no excuses. We’ll be back by early afternoon, you’ll have plenty of time to rest, take a shower, and then you’re going to show up and have a good time, even if I have to drag you there myself.”

You rolled your eyes, but his enthusiasm was infectious. There was a warmth in his insistence, a reminder that you weren’t alone and that there was still joy to be found, even in the smallest of moments. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there. But only because you’re the most obnoxiously persistent person I know.”

Peter laughed, giving you a mock bow from his seat. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, Y/N, it’ll be good to see you outside of the office for once. We all miss you, and I promise, you’ll be glad you came.”

You nodded, feeling a small flicker of anticipation amidst the exhaustion. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to look forward to something that wasn’t work, something that didn’t involve endless reports or painful memories. It wasn’t a solution to all your problems, but it was a start—a chance to reconnect with the people who mattered, to take a breath and remember that there was more to life than the shadows that had been chasing you.

As you looked at Peter, his familiar smile reminding you of all the good things you’d shared over the years, you felt a small surge of hope. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The train ride back to Quantico had felt endless, but the weight of the unresolved emotions made the journey back to your apartment even more suffocating. Peter’s words lingered, tugging at wounds you hadn’t dared to touch, and Hotch’s distant presence weighed heavily on your mind. The familiar solitude of your apartment was supposed to be comforting, but tonight, it felt more like a reminder of all the things you’d been running from: your grief, your past, and the fragile, fraying connection with the person who had come to mean so much to you.

You dropped your bag onto the floor, letting it fall with a thud that echoed through the empty space. You leaned against the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface against your palms as you tried to ground yourself. You wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. It was as if you’d locked them away, buried them beneath layers of duty and distraction.

But then there was a knock at your door, soft and tentative, almost like the person on the other side wasn’t sure they should be there. You hesitated, wiping at your eyes quickly as if to compose yourself, and moved to answer. You half-expected to find Peter, still worried about you after the train ride, or maybe even no one at all, just a mistake. But when you opened the door, it was Hotch who stood before you.

He looked different, more vulnerable and uncertain than you had ever seen him. His usually composed demeanor was frayed, and there was a rawness in his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and heavy burdens. He stood there awkwardly, clutching the doorframe as if it were the only thing keeping him upright, his face etched with a mixture of hesitation and determination.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you like a fragile thread, one wrong move away from snapping. Hotch looked down, swallowing hard as if searching for the right words. He wasn’t in his usual pristine suit but rather dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, his attire as out of place as the uncertainty written across his face.

“Hotch?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, tinged with both surprise and concern. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he just looked at you, as if he was struggling to find the right words, struggling to let down the walls he had spent a lifetime building. He stepped inside, and you quietly closed the door behind him, your heart pounding as you waited for him to speak. He took a few slow steps into the living room, glancing around as if trying to ground himself in the unfamiliar space.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice strained and brittle, every word heavy with unspoken pain. “I know this isn’t… I shouldn’t have just shown up like this, but I needed to talk to you. About… about what you said last night, and today on the train. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation with Peter.”

This wasn’t the composed, confident man you knew at work, this was Aaron, someone you never got to see, someone who was barely holding it together. “ You were right, Y/N. You were right about everything.”

You stood there, frozen, as his words hit you like a wave. You had never heard Hotch sound so vulnerable, so broken. He was always the strong one, the unshakable agent who never let his guard down, but tonight, he was just Aaron, and he was struggling.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep things separate,” he began, his voice trembling. “I thought if I could just focus on the work, I could ignore everything else—everything that hurt, everything that felt out of my control. But I can’t keep doing that. It’s not who I am, and it’s not who I want to be anymore.”

Hotch’s hands shook as he tried to steady himself, his eyes brimming with emotions he had kept buried for so long. “My father... he was abusive. He was cruel in ways that I can’t even put into words. He’d tear me apart with his words, his fists, anything to remind me that I was never good enough. I grew up in a house that felt more like a battlefield than a home, where silence was never safe and every day was just another fight to survive.”

His voice cracked, and you could see the weight of those memories in his eyes: the fear, the shame, the endless need to be perfect because nothing less would ever be enough for a man who thrived on control. “I tried so hard to protect my mom, my brother, but I was just a kid. There were nights when I’d lie awake, praying he’d leave us alone, praying I’d be strong enough to make it stop. But it never did. And I swore that when I grew up, I’d never be like him. I’d never let anyone see that weakness.”

You listened, your own tears finally breaking free as his pain washed over you. You had never imagined Hotch’s past had been so brutal, so deeply scarred by violence and fear. He had always seemed so put together, so composed, but now, you could see just how much he had been hiding, how much he had been carrying all this time.

“I thought if I kept that part of myself locked away, I’d be able to move on. I thought… I thought if I became Hotch, the profiler, that it would erase all the things he said I’d never be. But it’s just made me more closed off, more afraid to let anyone in. And I’ve been doing it for so long, I don’t even know how to stop.”

He looked at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and you could see the desperation there - the plea for understanding, for forgiveness, for something he couldn’t quite name. “I don’t know how to let people in, Y/N. I don’t know how to not be this… this guarded version of myself. But if I’m going to try, if I’m going to let anyone see me, I want it to be you. Because you were right when you said I don’t know you, but I want to. And you deserve to know me, too—the real me.”

The vulnerability in his voice shattered something inside you, and without thinking, you closed the distance between you and pulled him into a tight, desperate hug. Hotch tensed at first, unaccustomed to such unguarded intimacy, but then his arms wrapped around you, and you could feel him finally letting go. His head bowed against your shoulder, and his entire frame shook with the silent sobs he’d been holding back for too long.

You clung to him, your own tears mingling with his, and in that moment, it felt like the dam you’d both been holding back had finally broken. You were no longer the stoic agents who always had the answers, always kept it together. You were just two people, scarred and hurting, trying to find solace in the only way you knew how: by holding on to each other.

Hotch’s hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers tangling gently in your hair as he held you closer, as if you were the lifeline he had been searching for. He whispered apologies between his tears, his voice cracking with the weight of his regrets. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I didn’t see it. I didn’t see you.”

You shook your head, burying your face into his neck, your tears soaking through his t-shirt as you let out all the grief you’d kept buried: the loss of your father, the unresolved pain of your parents’ broken marriage, the way you had thrown yourself into work to keep from falling apart. You had been running for so long, hiding behind your accomplishments, just like him.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Aaron,” you whispered through your tears, the use of his first name slipping out naturally in this moment of raw honesty. “I had no idea. I was so angry, and I—”

He shook his head, his voice soft but firm as he whispered back, “You don’t have to apologize. You were right… about all of it. I needed to hear it. I needed to face it.”

The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other’s pain and understanding, the weight of your shared burdens finally feeling just a little bit lighter. There were no perfect words, no easy fixes, but in that embrace, you found something neither of you had expected—comfort, solace, and the beginning of a new kind of trust.

“It’s okay,” you whispered through your tears, clutching him tighter. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

For the first time, it felt like you were truly seen, truly understood, and the relief of it was overwhelming. You didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to be strong or perfect or put together. You could just be, and he could just be, and that was enough.

Hotch pulled back slightly, your eyes finally met, both of you still teary but no longer hiding. There was a silent understanding there, a promise that from now on, things would be different. “No more walls. No more hiding.” He murmured, his voice shaky but filled with a quiet determination.

You nodded, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it. You didn’t know what the future would hold, but as you held each other in that quiet, tear-stained moment, you knew that you weren’t alone anymore. You had each other, and that was a start. It was messy, and it was painful, but it was real. And in that, you found hope - hope that maybe, together, you could begin to heal. You weren’t just partners in the professional sense anymore; you were something more—two people learning to let each other in, to lean on each other’s strength when your own wasn’t enough. And in that simple, fragile moment, you both knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone, that your new friend would be right there at your side.

The evening had settled over the city, and the Irish pub next to your apartment block was buzzing with energy. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of lightness, excitement bubbling at the thought of spending time with Hotch, Peter, and the rest of your colleagues from the BAU. After everything that had happened, the weight of unresolved emotions had eased, if only slightly, and you found yourself looking forward to reconnecting with your team outside the pressures of the job.

Earlier that afternoon, you’d stopped by a bookstore, the small shop tucked between a row of cafes and boutique stores you often passed but rarely visited. As you browsed the shelves, your eyes fell on a book titled "Hegel for Dummies." It was a perfect, lighthearted gesture, a small symbol of your newfound friendship with Hotch, and a callback to the night you’d spent poring over Frank Lloyd Wright’s designs at the library. You thought that maybe, after his recent dive into architecture, he might take an interest in philosophy too, especially Hegel, one of your favorites. The book felt like a tiny olive branch, a way of letting him into your world a little more, just as he had let you into his the night before.

You imagined him reading it, piecing together Hegel’s ideas on thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, and maybe learning something about you in the process. And who knew? Maybe one day, if you were lucky, he’d hand you one of his favorite books, offering you another glimpse into the parts of himself he rarely showed.

When you walked into the pub, the warm light and chatter were an immediate comfort. You spotted your team at a long wooden table near the back, and to your surprise, you saw Gideon sitting there, crutches leaned against the wall, his leg injury having kept him out of the latest case. Rossi was beside him, the two of them looking as inseparable as ever, trading stories and laughs over pints of beer. It was a sight that immediately lifted your spirits.

“Look who finally made it!” Rossi called out, waving you over. “Come on, we saved you a seat.”

You grinned, making your way through the crowd. “Rossi, Gideon, you two didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

Gideon leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, you didn’t think we’d miss the party, did you? Besides, someone has to make sure Peter doesn’t get too full of himself.”

Peter shot you a wink, raising his glass in greeting. “They’re just here to bask in my glory, Y/N. But don’t let them fool you, they’ve been talking about you all night.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you took a seat between Gideon and Peter. “I’m sure they have. So, what did I miss?”

Before anyone could answer, Hotch walked in, his presence as commanding as ever, though there was a new softness in his eyes when he spotted you. You exchanged a smile, a silent acknowledgment of the night before, and of the steps you were both taking toward something new, something vulnerable.

“Hotch!” Rossi greeted, patting the empty seat beside him. “Come sit, we’re debating where Peter’s new desk should be. Since Y/N’s parked herself at his old one, we might need to reshuffle the whole bullpen.”

Hotch took his seat, glancing at you with a teasing smile. “I think she’s gotten too comfortable. I doubt she’s giving it up.”

Peter leaned in closer to you, his voice low and conspiratorial whispering into your ear “Wanna make a bet?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “See that woman behind Hotch’s shoulder? If she doesn’t come talk to him, you get to keep your desk.”

You eyed the woman briefly, noticing her casual yet elegant demeanor, but she seemed engrossed in her own conversation. Hotch was engaged in a discussion with Rossi, showing no sign of noticing her. You were confident this would be an easy win, especially given Hotch’s typically reserved nature. “Alright,” you said, turning back to Peter. “And what do you get if you win?”

Peter’s grin widened, the playful edge in his voice unmistakable. “A date. With you.”

The unexpected proposition caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt your cheeks warm. You glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious, but his expression remained light, teasing. You brushed it off with a laugh, pretending he was just messing with you. “Okay, you’re on.”

But no sooner had you accepted the bet than the woman, as if she had somehow overheard your conversation, moved toward Hotch with an expression of surprise. You watched in stunned silence as she approached, her voice soft and familiar. “Aaron? What were the odds?”

Your heart sank as Hotch’s face lit up, a rare and genuine smile crossing his features, his cheeks flushed slightly, and there was a familiarity between them that made your chest tighten. You felt Peter nudge you, his voice breaking through the shock. “Looks like you owe me a date.”

You barely registered his words, too fixated on the interaction unfolding in front of you. Hotch returned to the table with the woman by his side, her presence seeming to fill the room in a way that made you feel suddenly small and out of place. Hotch’s voice cut through the noise, introducing her with a casualness that belied the weight of the moment. “Everyone, this is Haley.”

You barely managed to hold your composure, the pieces of this unexpected puzzle falling into place as you processed Hotch’s flushed expression and the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. This wasn’t just anyone, this was someone from his past, someone who clearly was very close and definitely had shared some sort of romantic history with him. The bitter thoughts stung more than you wanted to admit.

Before you could say anything, Gideon, ever the observant one, leaned over, catching sight of the corner of a book sticking out of your open purse. “Hegel for Dummies?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, amusement flickering in his voice as he picked it up to inspect.

You nodded, still too stunned to fully engage, your mind elsewhere. “Yeah. It’s… it’s just a little joke,” you managed, though the words felt hollow in the moment.

The words hung heavy in the air, and as you sat there, watching Hotch interact with Haley, you couldn’t help but feel the truth in them. Life was messy, a constant push and pull of opposing forces, and you were caught in the middle of it, trying to make sense of what it all meant.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader

157 notes · View notes

rusalka52 · 2 months ago

Text

Tell me I’m pretty

↝completed

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Once news about your upcoming date with Sirius hits Hogwarts every one of your friends seems to be against it. The morning of your date is here and you can’t seem to calm down.

cw: Sirius is a bit of a liar, blood-purist attitudes, mention of period typical homophobia

4.3k words

A/N: This chapter was meant to be them going on the date but I realised it was going to become way too long so I decided to split it into two parts. I’m halfway done with the next part but I wasn’t going to be able to finish it all today and I didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer. I hope you guys enjoy this (slight filler) chapter and don't forget to like, reblog, comments etc. etc. and let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list!!!!

You have witnessed Regulus Arcturus Black scream a total of two times throughout your seven years at Hogwarts. The first time was when he was knocked off his broom by a bludger sent his way by the Hufflepuff team’s beater. You heard him scream as he hit the ground with a loud thud as his broom was knocked out from under him, sending him plunging down. He ended up fracturing his arm in two places. The other time was while you, him and a couple of your mutual friends were sitting under the big oak tree in the courtyard. Regulus’ ear piercing shriek filled the peaceful air as he jumped out of his seat in a panic frantically patting himself. A little spider had landed on his sleeve.

You are about to bear witness to the third time that Regulus will raise his voice.

“YOU’RE GOING ON A DATE WITH WHO?” He screeches, flinging the door to your dorm room open and making you jump in fear. You were sure he was going to rip the door off its hinges from how sudden and rapid his movements were.

“Merlin, Regulus! Can you at least knock!?” You exclaim, staring at him wide eyed, clutching your heart. “I almost had a heart attack!”

“Please, for the love of Salazar, tell me that this Ravenclaw girl was chatting shit and you’re NOT going on a date with my brother.” He says, closing his eyes, rubbing his temples and seemingly doing breathing exercises to calm himself down.

“How did you even get up here?” You ask, ignoring the question.

“I let him in!” Pandora announces coming up behind him and flopping down on her bed, watching the scene unfold in front of her as if it’s a film.

“Ugh Doraaa…” You whine, looking over at the blonde who just smiles in return.

“Sorry, someone has to talk some sense into you.” She shrugs, apologising, very insincerely!

“Mate, please tell me it’s not true. Please!” Regulus begs, grabbing your attention again. You gaze up at him. He was still standing in the doorway of the dorm, white-knuckling the door knob. You take a moment to study him. He definitely looked related to Sirius. Their resting faces always betrayed their arrogance and haughtiness that seemed to almost be innate to all pure-blood families. Despite their similarities, moles littering their faces reminiscent of constellations, grey eyes, raven hair, there were plenty of differences that set them apart. Sirius was taller, slightly more handsome and his hair was a few inches longer, reaching below his shoulders with a tighter curl pattern than his brother. His hair care routine is definitely more detailed and convoluted than his brother’s. His teeth were slightly sharper and his eyes more expressive. Regulus had acne scars staining his cheeks from the amount of time he picked his face and his nails were perpetually bitten, both an obvious symptom of anxiety. His shoulders permanently tensed.

“Well?” He looks at you expectantly.

“It’s… umm, not not true!” You try to reason, averting your gaze, suddenly your overgrown cuticles and chipped nail polish became a hundred times more interesting.

“I hate you!” His voice comes out muffled as he buries his face in his hands. He closes the dorm door and sits on the bed across from yours. Regulus grips your hands in his.

“Listen to me.” You peel your eyes away from your nails and look at the boy in front of you.

“You’re a smart girl but I need to offer you some insight regarding my brother.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “He doesn’t wash his socks, he sleeps in the same dirty, disgusting, sleeveless, cropped New York Dolls shirt and boxers -most nights, sometimes NO boxers-, our poor house elf has to physically drag him away to change his sweaty sheets, and even then he yells at him, so Salazar knows how often he changes them here! Did you also know that he blasts his shitty rock music really loud every day and night? Merlin, how could I forget!? He also has pictures and posters of that ridiculous Harley motorcycle AND half naked muggle ladies all over his walls back home! That Infuriates mother because he used a bloody permanent sticking charm on them! Can you believe the twat!” The boy in front of you takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, another trait he shares with his brother, before continuing his tirade. “He will just use you to get what he wants and then leave you, you must know that! Or, even worse, he might not even show up to the date and mock you the next day. Or, Merlin forbid, you two go to that damned date at Hogsmeade and he will surely get distracted by that ridiculous group of his and he ends up ditching you in favour of hanging out with his bloody mates!!!” Regulus rants growing more and more disgusted with every word. “In conclusion, Sirius is just a repulsive, lustful teenage boy and you should not, under any circumstance, go out with him!” He finishes, getting up and leaving your dorm, not wanting to hear another word from you.

You’ve known and been friends with Regulus since second year so you were well aware that this action meant ‘do whatever you want, but just so you know, I’m right’ but you were truly hoping that this wouldn’t be the case and that Sirius would not prove his brother right.

“HE’S GOING ON A DATE WITH WHO?” Marlene exclaims in shock as she walks through the portrait hole, Dorcas, the tattle-tale, trailing behind her. Everyone who was in the Gryffindor common room had turned to look at the two girls waiting to find out who is going on a date with who. Marlene started scanning the room, her eyes finally locking on her target -Sirius- and making a beeline towards him.

Sirius was sitting on the windowsill next to the open window blowing smoke out of it, his cropped Stooges shirt riding up to reveal his happy trail and v line, while James was lounging next to him on one of the sofas, playing with his golden snitch and pretending to pay attention to whatever the History of Magic textbook was analysing. Marlene marched right up to Sirius and stood with her hands on her hips staring daggers at him.

“If you and your little girlfriend want cigarettes, go ask Remus, I'm not giving you anymore of mine.” Sirius says flippantly, not even sparing a glance at the ticked off blonde in front of him. Until she punches him in the stomach.

“What in the bloody hell was that for!?” He exclaims clutching his stomach and bending over as James snickers beside him. Marlene knew that her punch didn’t hurt, Sirius just had a flair for the dramatic.

“Why are people saying you're going on a date with that Slytherin chick?”

“Well, you’re also dating a Slytherin chick but you’re not seeing me throwing punches left and right!”

“So it IS true!? You are unbelievable, Black.” Marlene shakes her head at her friend.

“Gosh, Marlene, why can’t a boy have some fun nowadays!” He exclaims in an over exaggerated tone, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Need I remind you of how horribly you treated her in the hallways the other day? I mean frankly, I just don’t understand why she even agreed to go out with you…”

“Dearest Marlene, you’ll be pleased to find out that she asked, nay, practically begged, to go on a date with me! I am nothing short of a gentleman so, of course, I decided to indulge her.” Sirius, of course, was well aware that what he said was not true; images of him yesterday, on his knees in front of her, kissing her fingers, coming to the forefront of his mind, but the others didn’t need to know that.

“Did she actually?” Dorcas spoke up for the first time, slowly approaching the group from behind Marlene.

“Oh, she speaks! Who would’ve thought!” James comments, giggling, as he and Sirius share a mocking look. Marlene, in defence of her girlfriend, slaps him over the head, promptly shutting the taunting boy up. Dorcas always felt uncomfortable in the Gryffindor tower. She tried to keep her relationship with Marlene low-key -it being the 70s and all-, but she couldn’t help but take notice of people’s judgemental stares when they walked hand in hand, even though they could play it off as just being friends. People could always tell. It didn’t help that she was a Slytherin so there was always an underlying hatred being pointed towards her on the basis of her house. No matter how many times she visited their common room with Marlene she would always hear a hushed “what’s the snake doing here..?” always said in annoyance and disgust. Therefore, Dorcas learned to ignore all the taunting remarks

“Yeah, she practically pleaded like a puppy during detention yesterday. It was quite adorable really.” Sirius shrugs, putting out his cigarette on the cobblestone walls and tossing the butt in a trash can nearby. And this is how easily rumours and misinformation spread through the Hogwarts castle.

“Mate, do you actually even fancy her?” Peter asks Sirius later in the boys dorm, munching on a chocolate frog. Remus, the quiet but very necessary voice of reason, was out for the night, curtains drawn and already snoring. The full moon being a few days away always caused him to become lethargic and need more sleep than usual.

“Yeah, Pads, why are you even interested in going out with her?” James questions in a low voice so as not to wake up Remus. “I mean I understand when you just wanted to snog her at the concert, and you got your wish, but a date seems a bit too far, no?”

“Well, she’s completely obsessed with me, so I decided to give the poor girl a chance.” Sirius tries to play it off.

“But wasn’t she the one refusing you the other day, how come she changed her mind so quickly?” Peter wonders.

“Besides, you never even told us what happened at detention yesterday.” James remarks.

“I-uh, well you see,” Sirius stammers, “a true gentleman would never kiss and tell!” He briskly regains his composure trying to not expose his lie. “I just see her as a sort of challenge, you know! It would also be fun to mess with her a bit…” He continues, hoping that the boys would just drop it. Sirius is so thankful for the full moon approaching or else Remus would have definitely noticed his lie and asked him about it later. What Sirius had said wasn’t a complete lie, it was the truth, only slightly bent to fit his needs, and with a few embellishments added to conclude his bad-boy charm.

This was the first time that Sirius had ever even considered dating a pureblood Slytherin, so of course he was slightly on edge. It was something that would totally conform to everything his parents would have wanted for him to do, find a nice pureblood Slytherin girl to date, then marry, then produce an heir for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and this annoyed Sirius to no end, so of course he had to pretend that she was obsessed with him and not the other way around. How could he, the black sheep and rebel of his family, the first Black to ever be sorted into Gryffindor, the one who ran away to stay with a “blood traitor’s” family, possibly want to do something that would appease his family, maybe even make them proud? It was making his head spin.

Next morning at breakfast you take a seat next to Regulus who has seemingly cooled off from last day’s diatribe.

“Good morning, have you changed your mind?” He asks, flipping the page of this morning’s Daily Prophet.

You place some pancakes on your plate. “No.”

“Hm, that’s a shame.” And that’s where your riveting conversation ended. He was still bitter because of yesterday it seems.

You two eat in awkward silence for approximately fifteen minutes until your vision suddenly goes black and someone’s dirty hands are covering your eyes.

“Guess who?” You hear Barty laugh obnoxiously behind you.

“Not in the mood, mate.” You shake the brunette off and he sits next to you. Regulus’ coldness had evidently rubbed off on you making you completely disinterested in Barty’s antics. Barty, naturally, saw that as a challenge to cheer you up.

“You’ll never guess what ridiculously laughable rumour I heard this morning by some airhead Hufflepuff girls in the hallway. That you, of all people in this damn castle, asked Sirius Black, the blood-traitor, out on a date to Hogsmeade. As if!” He laughs next to you.

You and Regulus freeze up, the tension in the air, which Barty was seemingly oblivious to, could be cut with a butter knife.

“Oh Salazar, you asked him?” Regulus whines like a petulant child, burying his face in his hands.

“Wait, WHAT?” Barty exclaims, placing his hands around your shoulders and shaking you. “Tell me you’re not actually going and that you're going to stand him up!”

“Erm, well, you see…”

“Merlin, mate… Out of everyone in this castle you chose him!?” At Barty’s exacerbated sigh the three of you peer over at the Gryffindor table. You immediately spot the Marauders, which wasn’t all that difficult seeing as Peter was trying to shoot blueberries in James’ mouth, who in turn hissed and groaned, yelling at the other boy’s poor aim, every time he missed. At 8 o’clock in the morning. Remus, who was sitting next to Peter, was flipping through his copy of Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms while sipping on his morning tea; he appeared far too exhausted to deal with the boys’ hijinks. And Sirius…well, he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to them at all.

His gaze was already fixed on you when your eyes landed on him, and he flashed a blithe grin your way that instantly sent heat rushing to your cheeks and neck. He raises his arm to wave at you and you can't help but take notice of your pink hair tie still wrapped around his wrist. Despite your best efforts to resist, even biting your cheek to distract yourself, Sirius’ smile was too infectious. It wasn’t your fault, you thought defensively. How could a person possibly not return his smile? The way his sharp teeth flashed, the sincerity in his grey eyes, the-

“Oh Salazar, you did ask him…” Regulus buries his head deeper in his hands.

“You are unbelievable!” Barty barks a laugh, slinging an arm around your shoulder teasingly. You're just praying at this point that the earth opens up to swallow you whole.

“Well, seeing as these two love birds will no doubt start courting soon, we should establish some ground rules, don't you agree Reggie?” Barty carries on, talking about you as if you're not even there.

“Don’t talk to me.” Regulus takes a sip of his lukewarm tea and turns his body away from you two.

“Rule number one: You two must keep the public displays of affection to a minimum in our presence, especially in front of poor ol’ Reggie over there, he might have an aneurysm if he sees anything beyond hand holding!” The brunette turns to address you. You do your best to ignore him, biting down on your pancakes.

“Rule number two: Don’t you dare start hanging out with those Gryffindor bellends and inviting them over to our hangouts over the summer. My house has a strict ‘No Gryffindors allowed policy’ as you know.” You hum in mock agreement, a poor attempt of getting him to go back to the Ravenclaw table.

“And now most important rule of all, rule number three: We should under no circumstances leave the two of you unattended for too long, the future heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black simply cannot be born out of wedlock! Walburga, or I suppose your mother-in-law now, would have a fit! Although I’m sure a nerd like Regulus is bound to know a few contraceptive potions to help his brother-dearest out.” Regulus and you grimace and Barty in turn just grins wider.

“You alright, mate? You're going to break the fork in half.” James laughs at the way his friend next to him is subconsciously white-knuckling the blameless kitchen utensil in his hand.

“I just don’t like the way his arm has been around her for that long, that’s all.” Sirius says, sucking his teeth and relaxing his grip. “That Crouch boy is nothing but trouble, you know. I’ve seen him hanging around Mulciber, Avery, Rosier and that sort.”

“And here I thought you didn’t fancy this lass that much.” James drawls.

“I don’t.”

“Mhm…” Remus hums in response avoiding the raven haired boy’s burning gaze.

“I would just prefer it that the girl I’m going on a date with isn’t fraternising with to-be death eaters! “

“So you’re not jealous that his arm is wrapped around her?”

“No, Wormtail, I am not jealous.” Sirius makes sure his disagreement is noticed by accentuating his response with a hard kick to Peter’s shin.

The rest of the week seemed to fly by, spent in one of three locations; the classrooms, studying in the library, or sleeping in your dorm. And it was now Saturday and your morning alarm was ringing. The morning of your date with Sirius Black. Now that was a sentence you couldn’t believe you were saying. After ruminating on your clothes all week, on Friday you finally managed to pick out an outfit from your wardrobe that you liked and that was weather appropriate. You made sure last night to carefully lay out the clothes on your trunk at the end of your bed so as not to get them wrinkly and to keep them clean. The only thing that remained was to pick out your jewelry and take care of your hair and makeup. Nothing too extravagant you don’t want him thinking that you care too much about this date. He probably doesn’t, anyway.

You finally sit up from your bed and the sight in front of you makes your eyes bulge out of your skull.

“DORCAS!” You scream, effectively waking up every girl in the dorm, maybe even in the entire Slytherin dungeon.

“I hate your bloody cat so much, look at what it’s done!” The cat in question yawns, does a big stretch all over your clean clothes and jumps off your trunk with a meow, her tail flicking behind her. “You have to train the damn thing!”

“Don’t yell at Trixie!” Pandora chastises, rolling over in her bed and covering her head with the pillow.

You sit on the corner of your bed and shake your head.

“I can’t wear this now! My clothes are ruined, there are cat hairs all over them and look at how wrinkly your wretched beast made them!” You look up at your friend, tears nearly brimming your eyes. This date was making you go insane, this was not normal behaviour.

“Dear Salazar, mate, stop being hysterical, here.” Dorcas says, flicking her wand and making your clothes appear good as new. She takes a seat next to you.

“Is everything alright with you..?” Dorcas questions, patting your thigh soothingly. You take a deep breath.

“Yes.” You stand up. “Yes, everything is fine, I need to brush my teeth.” You slam the bathroom door behind you and immediately wash your face. You were working yourself up into a frenzy for no reason, for something that should not even matter to you. Just breathe.

You go on with your morning routine, finishing your makeup and hair, and you put on your outfit.

“Okay girls, how do I look?” You do a spin in front of all your dorm mates, who were sitting in a line on one of the unmade beds. They all clap.

“Wowww.”

“Beautiful.”

“Outstanding!”

You hear their voices chorus in front of you.

“Do you mean that? Or are you just saying that because we’re friends?” You ask them fidgeting nervously with your hands.

“Merlin, why are you so worried about this date? It should be Black who should be nervous, going out with a bird like you!” Dorcas responds reassuringly.

“You’re right, you’re right. Now someone please help me with the clasp of this necklace. I can’t get it closed.” In reality, on every other occasion, you could put the necklace on quite easily, but your sweaty palms were preventing you today. Your body was betraying your anxiety for this date and you didn’t know how to stop it.

Your hands were involuntarily fidgeting with the end of your skirt on your way out from the Slytherin dungeons.

“Mate, you really need to calm down.” Dorcas grabs your upper arm and squeezes it, trying to get you to relax.

“Fuck, I know, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t even like him that much, he’s just a stupid boy!” You close your eyes taking, what seemed to be, the thousandth deep breath of the day.

“It’s natural to be nervous about a first date. I remember the first time I went out with Marlene I nearly threw up on the coach ride to Hogsmeade!”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“You’re right, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. But don’t worry it’s not like I’m seeing the future, I’m shite at divination, you know that.” She giggles. You two continue walking in comfortable silence until you reach the entrance to the castle.

“Everything will go great, don’t sweat it.” Dorcas hugs you.

“I know.” You reply, your answer muffled by your face being buried in her shoulder, and the pair of you walk outside.

As you make your way towards the gate leading to the path towards Hogsmeade you spot Marlene sitting on one of the benches. The moment she spots her girlfriend a smile lights up her face and she rises from the bench, walking towards you. Your eyes begin to scan the rest of the benches looking for Sirius as the two girls hug and greet each other.

“Hi, Marlene!” You wave at the blonde. “Have you, umm, seen Sirius around?”

“No, love, sorry, but I’m sure he’ll get here soon. The entire Gryffindor tower has had to listen to him wax poetics about you all week, it’s been driving everyone up a wall.”

“Really?” You question, unsure as to whether she’s saying that just to make you feel better or because it’s the truth.

“Yeah! He tried to be nonchalant about the whole thing for the first day but after that he’s been raving about you non-stop! It’s always ‘Oh Marls, have you seen how pretty and soft hair looks today and how her lipstick accentuates her plump lips, isn’t she just ravishing!? Marls, did you notice how quickly she completed her potion first today, and it was perfectly done too, she’s so smart!’ Absolute madman! I started getting sick of you -no offence- but after the twentieth compliment in a row, it becomes a lot, you know.” Heat starts rising to your cheeks. You weren’t aware Sirius was that into you.

“He was borderline worse than how Potter was with Lily, and that’s saying a lot! It was making me want to punch him in the face. But don’t tell him I told you that, he made me promise to not let anyone know” Marlene goes on, frowning and pointing her finger in your face to threaten you jokingly.

“Do you want us to wait with you until he gets here?” Dorcas asks as she looks around trying to spot the boy.

“Oh no, no, there’s no need, I don’t want to keep you two waiting, go have your fun!” You offer the girls a tight lipped smile waving them off with your hand. Marlene’s words had eased your anxiety a bit, but there was still a small voice in the back of your head that was making you squirm. Your palms begin to sweat as the pair leaves.

Your heart drops and a pit begins to form in your stomach as you glance at your watch. He is five minutes late. You agreed to meet at 11:00 and it’s now 11:05. You couldn’t help your racing thoughts. “Regulus was right, he’s not even going to show up, or maybe he’s hiding behind some tree with his mates, ready to jump out and mock me. Salazar, what is wrong with me? I was such a bloody idiot to think that he would want to be seen outside with me. I should just turn around and head back to the castle to save face and I’ll just tell people I felt ill.”

As you do a 180° turn, planning to storm back to your dorm, you run right into someone who is fastly approaching. You gasp and go to step back but you end up missing your footing and you’re about to tumble down when the person’s hand grips your own and his other arm snakes around your waist. You regain your composure standing up now face-to-face with Sirius and you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry for being late, love, James is a cock and he couldn’t remember where he put my favourite cologne. And I’m sorry for spooking you.”

“I- umm, it’s alright don’t worry about it.” You just now notice that his arms are still securely wrapped around your waist, as yours are placed against his biceps, and you pull away from him.

“Shall we go?” You nod your head towards Hogsmeade, avoiding his gaze.

“Mhm.” He hums. “Let’s go.”

tags: @gastroentred @beekeepingageissome @is-it-better-to-speak-or-todie @lolalleins @azure-drag0ness

Likes and reblogs help a lot! If anyone wants to be added to tag list for the last part just let me know!!

Requests: open :D

#the last chapter will be up next Saturday promise!!!#marauders #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #sirius black x reader #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #peter pettigrew #sirius black x y/n #regulus black #barty crouch jr #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #dorlene #sirius black x you

68 notes · View notes