#but i imagine in the real world her girl friends all call her 'mimi'

[ryllen]

SSR Grim - Platinum Jacket

[mimdyluv]

MIMIS HOUSE — 12:47PM

the sound of running water from the shower upstairs serves as a soundtrack to indy’s incessant thumbing of the playstation joystick controls, sticking his tongue between his lips in frustration as he stares at the screen.

“this level is kickin’ my ass.” indy grits in a nearly inaudible whisper, lounged back on mimi’s couch in her living room. her parents were never home — negligent at best, which left her house the perfect place for indy to kick back at. it had become a habit to be there, so much so that he’d plugged his playstation in at her house. she was a total kook, and her tv was bigger. plus, he’d grown rather fond of hanging out with her. only recently they’d grown inseparable since reconnecting from high school. gone were the days they’d mostly ignore eachother unless indy needed to borrow a pencil, then he’d be all over her — and she was a sucker for it. despite being from totally different worlds, they’d always been each others soft spot.

a pair of keys jangling in the door snaps indy out of his trance and he winces, displeased with the idea of having to awkwardly greet his friends parents who’d seemingly arrived home early from their trip.

however, much to his surprise — enters a polo shirt and the unmistakable stench of wealth. the boy freezes, mid long stride through the room to eye indy on the couch. rafe cameron.

“the hell’s goin’ on here?” the blonde boy drawls, blinking like he’s trying to wake himself up from a dream. indy grins uncontrollably, incredibly entertained by the whole ordeal.

“as happy as i am to see you rafe, did you know that breaking and entering is a crime?” he retorts, immediately pausing the game to focus on the real show.

“i—i’on have time for this bullshit, a’ight? where’s mimi?” he shifts on his feet, antsy. his tweaked out demeanour pushes indy to slow his own, be his usual calm and collected self just to push his buttons.

“oh she’s in the shower.” the raven haired boy responds, placing his controller aside for a moment to lift his arms up in a stretch, arching his back a little until something clicks, having been sat in the same position for over an hour. during the pause, rafe stares at him — pink in the face with a mind reeling full of indecent images. his sweet ex girlfriend, who he’d come to reclaim — in every position imaginable, and not underneath him. indy blinks, smug smile only growing in the duration of the cameron boys stunned silence. “don’t worry. i didn’t lay a hand on her.”

indy picks up his controller, unpausing the game as he sits now more at ease and continues to walk around as batman on the screen. “she’ll be out soon. feel free to make yourself at home, or whatever.” he yawns, eyes flickering up to the tall blonde who marches to the centre of the room — standing directly and purposely infront of the tv.

indy sighs, and once again pauses the game.

“is there something i can help you with, rafe?”

“wh—what is this? why are you here in her house? ‘she know you’re here?” he bombards, before beginning to pace — clearly upset by the whole situation.

“bold questions coming from the guy who let himself in.” indy laughs openly, and this just irritates rafe — licking over his lips with an eyeroll and darting off to the kitchen. indy drops his head back on the couch headrest to watch him walk, before pushing himself up and rolling off the back of the couch lazily, following him.

“yeah, she knows i’m here.” he calls as he traipses after him, watching the blonde swing open the fridge door and pull out a bottle of water, clearly very familiar with the layout of the girls house. after a short silence, rafe choosing to ignore indy’s presence, the darker haired boy speaks up again. “so, what’s your pitch?”

rafe, who was mid sip, frowns. he wipes his mouth on the back of his wrist. “pitch? ‘fuck are you talking about, kid?”

“you’re here to win mimi back, right?” indy hops up on the counter, sitting there with a loud carelessness that made rafe’s stomach turn. there was no reason another man should be so comfortable in mimi’s house, he thought. no man would be — not unless he was fucking her. he grits his teeth, not wanting to lose his temper so soon and blow his chance with mimi before even getting to see her.

“we have things to discuss, alright? she’s… she’s not done with me. not until i’ve said my piece.”

“well tell me what you’re gonna say. maybe i can help you out.” indy smiles, playing genuine. his unbothered demeanour enrages the country club regular even more and he snaps towards him, pointing a long tanned finger.

“how ‘bout you mind your business and get the hell out of this house, huh?”

mimi’s dark haired friend winces, shaking his head. “yeah, i wouldn’t go with that. don’t think she’d appreciate your tone, man.” indy hops off the counter, instead crossing his tattooed arms over his chest to think for a moment, eyes on the pristine kitchen tiles. “hm, you wanna go in with a gentle approach, i’d say. she likes praise, likes to be told how good she is.” indy starts to slowly approach the cameron boy, one step at a time across the kitchen. whilst rafe’s glare is unwavering, indy’s smirk only grows. “gets her all excited, doesn't it? makes her look up at you with those big pretty doe eyes. that’s probably what you like about her, right? makes you feel important. makes you feel like the man.” by this point, they’re stood directly infront of eachother.

rafe’s jaw ticks, his eyes fluttering with rage that he’s not sure he can hold back much longer, the desire to punch indy in the face only growing within him.

“you better watch your fuckin’—”

“whats going on in here?” an urgent, unmistakably girlish voice attracts both heads to whip in the direction of the doorway. mimi stands, hair still dripping which creates a tiny puddle beneath her, the tiniest towel imaginable clutched around her tanned, wet body. two pairs of eyes rake over her, indy in delight — a tongue in his cheek, and rafe— horrified, but a slave to his boyish tendencies to get a good look.

“hey babysweet, have a good shower?” indy coo’s, and it’s totally to wind rafe up. the oldest cameron is flustered, chest rising and falling as his gaze darts between the two of them.

“i—i wanna talk to you. if that’s alright, look — i - i know we aren’t on the best terms. okay? i know that. but i think i deserve to be heard, yeah?” eyes as wide as saucers, he pleads with his ex girlfriend —who looks alarmed and disorientated by the whole ordeal.

“it couldn’t wait? i’m naked here.” mimi stresses, conscious of the size of towel that she grabbed in a hurry after hearing her exes voice in her home. rafe itches his temple, fidgety and wired up from the whole thing, blinking dumbly as he searches for words— lips moving like a fish out of water.

“ye—” he cuts himself off with a sigh. “i know that, okay.”

indy now rests against the kitchen island with a hand in a bag of chips, watching things play out. “how much do i need to pay for you to drop the towel?” he jokes, bringing a handful of salty snacks to his mouth. before he gets the chance to eat it, rafe launches at him, grabbing him by the shirt.

“rafe!” mimi steps forward.

“down boy, where’s your sense of humour?”

THE CHATEAU — 5:55PM

“so now mimi’s trying to intervene, but the kicker is she’s only got this tiny towel wrapped round ‘er. ‘cos you know, she was in the shower — and rafe’s about to kick my ass or something—” indy now sits sprawled on the outside seating on john b’s porch, reliving the tale to the pogue boys sat before him, holding onto luke warm beer bottles.

jj seems to perk up suddenly, an eyebrow raising as he sits forward in his seat.

“w—wait, uh— rewind that real quick bro?” the blonde tilts his head, lending his ear to indy as if he needed to ensure he heard every detail. indy blinks, scratching at his jaw as his brain catches up.

“uh, rafe was attacking me?”

jj squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head almost urgently. “yeah, no i got that dude— somethin’ bout a towel?”

indy shrugs, nodding in recognition to the seemingly unimportant detail.

“oh, right yeah. tiny thing. could have been a hand towel. anyway—” he dives back into the story, leaning forward in his seat as jj checks out mentally, head swivelling to watch the brunette interact with the other girls inside the chateau, laughing and chatting over boiling pasta in the kitchen. his tongue tickles the corner of his mouth at the mental image, pocketing it for later and swallowing the intense jealousy burning at his abdomen.

[shihalyfie]

A meta on Mimi and her character

Today’s spotlight character is Mimi! While the Adventure characters are all written to subvert character stereotypes (no, really), I feel this is particularly enhanced for Mimi, whose surface demeanor and the first impression you get from her suggest an almost opposite character to whom she actually is.

Disclaimer before we continue: While not to the same extent as Daisuke, Mimi’s disposition and personality have some significant differences in the American English dub compared to the original Japanese. As usual, this is not meant to be any particular comment about the dub’s changes, but simply that if you’ve only seen that dub, are reading this post, and are thinking “that doesn’t seem right?” that would probably be why.

Mimi’s family background and attitude prior to Adventure

Like with any of the other Adventure characters, understanding Mimi’s personality and why she acts the way she does is most easily done by starting with her family background.

We first meet Mimi’s family in Adventure episode 35.

There is a lot to unpack with only this scene alone, so let’s get started!

Mimi’s family is quite well-to-do. They’re not filthy rich or anything, but they’re well-to-do enough for Mimi’s father to work freelancer (he works in music). This means that Mimi grew up with a fairly “comfortable” life, probably getting pretty much anything she asked for -- in other words, she’s spoiled. It also explains why she’s actually pretty impeccably polite to everyone -- she adheres very firmly to honorifics when speaking to both elders and younger people, and never, ever speaks roughly or aggressively, because her parents have basically been raising her like a “lady of the house” (ojousama) or princess. (She does use casual-form Japanese, but she never lets up on the honorifics.)

They’re very open-minded. We learn in this episode that Mimi’s bizarre food tastes in liking natto on her eggs with sugar (from Adventure episode 6) most likely come from her mother, Satoe, cooking things like kimchi fried rice with whipped cream and strawberries. In other words, the family is very into the idea of “unconventional and strange” and has no qualms about it.

While Mimi in 02 is portrayed as liking practically any kind of fashion aesthetic imaginable, both her room and the overall decor of the apartment suggest that “in-your-face cute” is the generally favored one.

Mimi’s family is also extremely affectionate. They smother each other in lovey-dovey words, her father actively likes Satoe’s weird cooking ideas, and it’s a household where everyone seems to dote on and mutually love and support each other (Mimi’s parents are almost embarrassingly lovey-dovey) without restraint.

The result is that Mimi ends up “spoiled sweet” -- she’s pampered and used to a comfortable life where everyone dotes on her, but because of the family dynamic being so built on “affection” and “open-mindedness”, she also never develops a streak towards condescension or malice.

What does that mean, you might ask?

Mimi in Adventure

A lot of people remember Mimi by the fact that she was “whining a lot” in the early stages of Adventure, and the fact that she’s a “girly-girl” with some of the associated stereotypes. As a result, one may be surprised to hear that her behavior is actually supposed to be mostly representative of an average child in her situation, and she’s often described in press materials as “someone who can befriend anyone” or “someone who can get along with anyone”. Even her official website profile talks about how pretty much everyone considers her likeable.

This may seem difficult to believe at first, but you might actually notice a pattern when it comes to her “complaining” -- it pretty much always boils down to one of the following, or something along these lines:

I’m scared

I’m tired

I don’t like this/I don’t want that

I want a bath/bed/food/(some other home comfort)

I want to go home

In other words, Mimi is basically reacting like an average child would when thrown into another world out of nowhere! All of her complaints are out of low tolerance and high sensitivity -- all of these scary and uncomfortable things around her are making her feel bad, and she’s not hesitating to make that clear with her words.

However -- and this is very important -- these are all things she’s saying specifically because she’s now in a dangerous, unfamiliar situation in another world. All of these things are things she says defensively, because she’s sensitive to being uncomfortable or hurt, but she is also never aggressive towards others. In completely normal situations -- ones where all she’s doing is socializing at school -- it’s not hard to believe that she would actually be one of the nicest and most considerate people on the planet and that she would be instantly likeable to anyone she meets. Why? Because she lacks condescension or malice. She’s a very nice person who, if not for being under heavy stress, would never step on anyone’s toes. Even during those early episodes of Adventure, whenever there’s “down time” and they’re not in an uncomfortable situation or being chased by something, she goes back to being polite and respectful of others (remember: she’s one of the most adherent to honorifics among the cast), and is perfectly kind and agreeable with them.

As much as she may sometimes get demanding during the early episodes of Adventure, she also doesn’t expect her peers to cater to her nor does she look down on them. One of the biggest examples comes from the Adventure novel:

Mi–chan was pointing at the front of the bus, where a boy wearing a long–sleeved orange shirt was about to get off. Even Mimi knew who he was. They hardly ever talked together, but he was her classmate, Koushiro Izumi. Mi–chan wanted them to look at what Koushiro was carrying on his back – a wireless laptop. “Isn’t he so weird for bringing that all the way to camp?” Mi–chan sneered with mocking laughter, but Mimi didn’t laugh. She simply didn’t find any reason to.

In a situation where people are mocking this weirdo kid for bringing his laptop to camp, Mimi “sees no reason” to look down on him. To her, what’s the point? It’s not fun to be malicious towards others, and she sees no benefit in dunking on him. Hence, because she’s actually very polite and open-minded towards others, and doesn’t see any reason to be mean, she’s not mean, and so you can see why everyone would like her -- after all, she’s not only bright and cheerful, she’s also polite and kind! Who wouldn’t like such a nice person?

Mimi’s first “focus episode” is Adventure episode 6, and we already see a lot of these traits in action. Mimi gets to see the other kids making absolute fools of themselves under Monzaemon’s brainwashing, but the most she has to say is just observing that they seem to not be having fun, and being worried about their well-being. Once she finds out the truth behind what he did to them, she gets extremely angry on her friends’ behalf -- she actually calls them her “friends”, despite them barely knowing each other at this point!

And then when the Numemon step in to fight for her, despite her initially having been turned off by them (mainly because they make her uncomfortable, both by indulging in literal poop around her presence and by invading her personal space by flirting with her), she actually almost breaks down in tears over them!

What this all means is that Mimi’s “high sensitivity” also translates to something else: Mimi has extremely high empathy for others. In terms of being “sensitive”, she’s also sensitive to how other people feel. She worries about others’ welfare constantly, even when they’re poop-throwing slime monsters who had just flirted with her, or near-stranger classmates who just happen to have been thrown onto this adventure with her whom she barely knows. That’s why she’s so nice to other people -- she feels for them, and she constantly empathizes with others’ emotions, so that’s why she’s never rude to others nor does she step on their toes.

It’s also why, even after Koushirou rubs her the wrong way and momentarily causes her to lash out at him for being insensitive about her feelings in Adventure episode 10, she also never seems to hold a grudge against him thereafter (especially since, for as much as he was acting pretty frustrating, she understands he was doing it out of good intentions). In fact, Mimi is pretty much incapable of holding a grudge at all. (More on this later!)

Mimi’s most famous incident of “succumbing to her vices” is Adventure episode 25, when she ends up letting the Geckomon and Otamamon pamper her while stringing along and refusing to do the job they’d needed her for in the first place (singing to wake TonosamaGeckomon). Let’s go over what led to Mimi getting in this situation:

Mimi was basically at her limit. She had been in the Digital World for what had been implied to be months. Going that long without her bath or soft bed or comfort, it’s understandable that she finally let stress overcome her and succumbed to her vices in full. This is basically Mimi at one of her worst possible breaking points, not her most of the time.

Taichi, Jou, and their partners never gave her a very good reason why they should leave (Taichi never explained the problems going on in the real world, nor that he’d even taken a pit stop there) and now, for all she knows, they’re trapped in the Digital World forever, so when she sees an offer to make it all stop hurting, she naturally takes it -- especially when the people telling her to leave aren’t giving her any reason why except that she should.

Even despite all that, Mimi has a complete mental breakdown after her tantrum ends up throwing everyone in jail, dreaming about how everyone must hate her now and how even the Geckomon and Otamamon are tiring of her (the fact this pops up in her dream implies that she’d had a feeling this was coming for a while now). Sora comes to give her a little encouragement, but even she says that Mimi already really knows what she should be doing now. Mimi ends up bringing everyone out to apologize to them and fulfill her duty before the night is even over.

So let’s recap: Mimi is so empathetic and worried about other people’s feelings and what they think of her that, even in arguably one of the worst mental health crashes we’ve ever seen her have on screen, she still breaks down at the prospect of disappointing everyone and making them hate her to the point she immediately recognizes how far she’s fallen and takes it back before the night’s even over. That is how much other people, ranging from Taichi to a crowd of Digimon she’s only vaguely acquainted with, matter to her.

The full “payoff” for this episode in terms of the light of the Crest of Purity glowing and achieving Lilimon evolution does not happen until Adventure episode 35.

It is interesting for a lot of reasons, mainly because it involves all of the events happening in response to things that don’t sound very virtuous on their face (early in the episode, Mimi insensitively comments on Palmon being “bad taste”, and later in the episode she starts considering the Digimon tormenting others unforgivable).

The “Crest of Purity” (sometimes “Innocence”) is something that’s often been difficult to translate, mainly because the easiest words that come to mind often have other unwanted implications, but the real point of it is that, again, Mimi is lacking in malice. The way she talks to Palmon at the beginning of the episode indicates she really didn’t think Palmon would take it seriously (she even urges her to “not think too much into it”), only to find out at the end of the episode that she sort of kind of did. (Trust me, she’s very sorry about it.) The other thing is that, when she starts protesting at the Digimon at the end of the episode, she’s doing this specifically because she’s weeping on behalf of all of the tormented civilians (including her family) that are being caught in the crossfire. She’s so constantly empathetic towards other people that seeing other people hurt, regardless of how well she knows them, just eats her inside. So for her, those who cause that kind of suffering are unforgivable, because they’re inflicting that pain on others.

This is also what leads to her breakdown near the three-quarters mark of the series. Like with how she eventually came to empathize with the Numemon who fought on her behalf, Mimi holds no grudge against Scumon and Chuumon despite them having flirted with her earlier, and Chuumon taking a hit for her hurts her the deepest among all of the other kids. Because Mimi is so empathetic towards others, every death starts tearing away further until she finally can’t take it anymore. 

Mimi is fundamentally the kind of person who hates fighting, and even from day one she’d never liked it -- her way of “encouraging” fighting was more like hoping that Palmon (or her evolved forms) could survive. If she wanted to win, it was in the sense of wanting everyone to Not Die; she was never belligerent. But now that the actual body count of people she considers friends is rising, she associates fighting so deeply with that body count that the pain gets to her, and the last straw breaks in Adventure episode 45 in the form of two people she considers friends, Taichi and Yamato, getting in a fight. Everyone around her is hurt. Everyone around her is pain. The naturally empathetic Mimi feels all of this, and she thus decides to pull back from the fighting.

Mimi being such a firm pacifist does have its benefits -- not only does it mean that she holds no grudge against Ogremon in Adventure episode 46 and bid for treating his wounds even though Jou (understandably!) is initially more skeptical because of how he’d initially tried to kill them, she also creates a major dent in Ogremon’s “fated rival” philosophy towards Leomon by forcing him to question: so what if you do defeat your rival? Then what? What’s the point of fighting? Does it actually make you feel better to try and prove your strength this way? (Even Leomon, for all he’s portrayed as noble, is still shown to have a petty investment in his conflict with Ogremon in the following episode.) Ogremon tries not to think too hard about it, but Mimi questioning “what he would do if Leomon were gone” becomes a question he really does have to confront when Leomon dies in the next episode...

...which is also an important learning lesson for Mimi herself as well: fighting may cause collateral damage, but not fighting doesn’t help things either, because when less-than-virtuous forces are at work, casualties will happen either way. In fact, it’s even worse to be a sitting duck, because now you’re just doing nothing when people die right in front of you. Which is a lesson that Jou had wanted to tell her earlier, but didn’t know how to describe to her in words because of his own complicated feelings:

What he wanted to tell her was this: that he didn’t see any likelihood of co-existing with the Dark Masters, and that they had no other choice but to fight them. Even a neutral country like Switzerland had a military. They would be invaded by enemy countries without one. It would be nice and ideal if they used the nonviolent resistance approach as Ghandi did. But that didn’t mean it was okay to just be killed without lifting a finger… But not even he could find a good answer.

However, Mimi is still a pacifist. Even if she finally understands that fighting is necessary, that should not mean that she should now force herself to become someone gung-ho and enthusiastic about it. This is why, in Adventure episode 50, Jou contemplates different ways they can productively contribute to the fight -- because Mimi should not be obligated to personally fight herself when it’s not in her fundamental nature, and Jou personally does not feel that he’s very good at it. But Jou, having put some thought into “one’s own path”, realizes that literal physical violence fighting isn’t the only way to be “part of the fight” -- and so while Jou starts to realize that his unique role is becoming someone who can be a capable healer and doctor for those who are wounded, Mimi has her own talents that she can use to bring Digimon and other allies together. Because Mimi is a kind and charismatic person whom everyone finds likeable and would be willing to come along with, and since she holds no grudges against anyone, nobody would hold any grudges against her, so she’s perfect for the role of “bringing people together for the sake of what they want to protect”.

And she does. Adventure being a series that respects the contributions of those who don’t necessarily participate by direct fighting, Mimi’s rallying together of the Digimon becomes key to saving everyone in Adventure episode 52, and the fact that everyone’s together in the end makes for a great group photo.

Speaking of the final episode, in case the point hadn’t been driven home enough that Mimi’s the most empathetic and emotionally sensitive of the entire cast, the series famously ends on her very emotionally compromised farewell with Palmon. Of course, Palmon’s the one who kind of initiated it (she’s the one who initially refuses to see Mimi because she’s too emotionally compromised), but, after all, the series ends on Mimi being so frazzled about it that she loses her hat.

Mimi in 02 and beyond

As with the other Adventure kids, Mimi’s character arc continues in 02, and we learn a lot about her before she even makes her first personal appearance!

Firstly, we learn that Mimi’s moved to America. The in-universe reason is that it’s for her father’s work...or, at least, ostensibly so, because 02 episode 40 implies that the actual reason was that her parents wanted them to be away from Digimon incidents. (Which, of course, didn’t last very long.) The meta reason for Mimi moving, however, very likely has to do with the fact that 02 involves a subplot of Chosen Children appearing all over the world, and Mimi’s character involves an innate talent for bringing people together.

We learn in Two-and-a-Half Year Break that Mimi moved in 2001, only one year before 02′s events, and eventually got caught in the 9/11 incident -- where she met a number of other American Chosen Children in New York and, now much stronger of heart since the events of Adventure, was able to help them in the recovery efforts, despite there being a language barrier. With this, and the fact she’s shown at a huge party in 02 episode 14: they’re not kidding when they say Mimi can become friends with pretty much anyone. Even going to an entirely different country and dealing with a language and cultural barrier, Mimi is such a naturally kind and compassionate person that she immediately doesn’t have any problem fitting in. (Because, really, someone that level of kind and friendly is hard to dislike.) And in a world where international solidarity between Chosen Children is getting more and more important, that is a very valuable role to have.

The other thing we find out early about Mimi in 02 episode 2 is that Sora catches on that Miyako is a lot like Mimi, based on the fact that Miyako also is empathetic and has an aversion to fighting. And Sora’s completely right, because when Mimi does come into the picture, the similarities -- and differences -- between her and Miyako say a lot about both characters.

When Mimi arrives in Japan in 02 episode 6 (for her cousin’s wedding), she and Miyako immediately get along with each other, and Miyako instantly role-models her, to the point of claiming her as an honorary older sister (despite already having older sisters herself!). It’s not surprising; Mimi and Miyako are both very bright and cheerful people, and Miyako even shares the background of being slightly pampered by her family (although presumably more due to her being the youngest of several siblings). Mimi, for her part, continues her trend of being likeable and fond of pretty much everything (including even her beloved tuna-mayo onigiri that she hadn’t had for so long), and is perfectly happy to be tight with Miyako.

The Digitamamon incident in 02 episode 14, however, adds an extra layer into why Miyako idolizes Mimi so much besides Mimi just being cool in general: Mimi is kind, forgiving, mature, and incapable of holding a grudge -- to the point her pacifistic tendencies kick in even when Digitamamon gets hit by a Evil Spiral and she refuses to fight him, despite him literally starting to beat her up. Again, Mimi came to understand the inevitability of having to fight back in Adventure, but Digitamamon is, to her, a friend who was trying his hardest to turn over a new leaf -- so, naturally, she tries to see if she can appeal to his heart instead. Miyako, on the other hand, is on the opposite extreme -- she’s so judgmental about her poor first impression with Digitamamon that, despite fully knowing well that Evil Spirals cause their victims to lose their ability to have reason, keeps trying to use it as evidence that Digitamamon was a traitor from the get-go.

Considering that the “secondary Digimentals” arc is largely about Daisuke, Miyako, and Iori coming to terms with their deficiencies in their respective traits and aspiring to do better, Miyako unfavorably compares herself to Mimi because Mimi is everything she wants to be and currently isn’t. Unlike Mimi, Miyako is aggressive, in-your-face, occasionally judgmental, belligerent, sometimes insensitive (not by choice), and often shallow, which she fully admits to in this episode. Of course, the reason Miyako gets the Digimental of Purity (Mimi’s trait) is because she hates this about herself -- even in 02 episode 31, she gives herself no shortage of grief for her foot-in-mouth syndrome and the fact she’s not as “kind” of a person she wants to be, and she herself is also fundamentally devoid of malice, just quick to jump to conclusions and a bit sidetracked by first impressions. (After all, Mimi was guilty of being accidentally insensitive when she called Palmon lacking in taste back in Adventure; the point is that when both of them do it, they really don’t mean badly, and end up sorry for it later.)

But that’s a story for another post about Miyako; more importantly, the reason Miyako is harsh on herself about this in this episode is that, in many ways, she’s everything Mimi is not, because Mimi is empathetic and mature and polite and never steps on anyone’s toes.

02 episode 25 gives us more to work with; first of all, she’s depicted in yet another completely different hair and fashion style (which she brings up another of during the winter season), and her drastic shifts in style indicate more of her “open-mindedness”; she’s open to trying out tons of new things and is willing to like just about anything. More importantly, however, she turns out to be completely open-minded about recruiting Ken to help out, even though she’s well aware of what he’d done as the Kaiser (and, again, Miyako sees her ability to be forgiving as something to look up to). Because, again, Mimi doesn’t hold a grudge; she doesn’t send anything accusatory or forceful to Ken, but simply believes that he should be given the chance to know what’s going on and help out if he so chooses, which becomes key to Miyako herself also choosing to accept Ken at the end of the episode.

Given that Mimi is portrayed as so open-minded towards trying all sorts of things, it’s probably no surprise that her “career” in Kizuna is so different from what we eventually know she’ll be doing in the epilogue -- instead of her cooking show, we see her running an online shopping business. After all, with her being so open-minded about wanting to do potentially anything, it’s very like her to "dabble” in a few different experimental things before (or perhaps “without”!) settling for something. What we know about this business is also quite on brand for her; her business specializes in “cute” (her preferred aesthetic, which she also shamelessly dresses in), and she’s established as setting up business all over the world to the point she has to constantly travel. Presumably, her natural charisma made it easy for her to set up connections.

Interestingly, her website profile also omits any discussion of any kind of university or other post-secondary education, implying that, unlike the others, she chose to dive directly into her career after high school. Again, it’s quite like her to find something she wanted to do and pursue it the moment it was in front of her -- no matter what it is, as long as it’s interesting.

Mimi’s largest amount of focus in regards to the movie is in To Sora, where she’s seen checking in on Sora after noticing she hasn’t been in the group chat in a while -- again, as someone constantly empathetic to how her friends are doing, it’s natural that she’s the one who catches on and decides she needs to check in. As someone who loves uplifting and supporting her friends first and foremost, she happens to be fully aware of what everyone’s currently up to (compare how Taichi had to be actively updated on Sora and Takeru’s status from Yamato in the movie proper), and also provides nothing but positive supportiveness to Sora’s troubles during their conversation -- as usual, always respectful and polite, and never condescending.

And, of course, she naturally empathizes with Sora having hesitation about fighting -- both because she’s been busy herself, but also because she, of course, understands exactly how it feels for fighting to be emotionally taxing -- and declares that she’ll support Sora with whatever she does, just like how she found her own path back in Adventure by choosing to contribute by bringing people together instead of fighting. She makes do on this promise as well, considering that she keeps up with supporting Sora during her exhibition.

By the time of the 02 epilogue, Mimi has decided to change tracks entirely and go for cooking, which, while being very different, is also very on-brand. This time, the part about “cooking” is something that comes from her family, since, after all, experimental cooking (...of some kind) was something Satoe got the whole family to embrace. The exact nature of her job is literally “culinary researcher”, which is a Japanese catch-all to refer to the sort of “food critic” who experiments with food and writes extensively (or, in this case, runs a TV show) about different ways you can enjoy and put together food, which also goes in mind with her streak of “open-mindedness”. The common point is, really, that everything Mimi does comes out of positivity, supportiveness, and love.

[magicstar16]

Invader zim Sitcom au (Part 2)

Okay so this is gonna go over all the other famlies. For characters who’s last names I don’t know I just gave them random last names.

The membranes: AKA The next door neighbors who get a spinoff later or something 

Professor Membrane: Doesn’t change much besides from being actually supportive this time. He’s like how he was in ETF. He’s still a successful scientist, but the “Smartest man in the world” thing is only just a title now. He let’s Gaz and Dib help him during some of his experiments as a fun, family bonding activity. (This does not mean they’re all safe, they can still be pretty chaotic, such as that one time where the house got overrun by gerbils). He still has robotic limbs from the shark incident, the incident actually left him deathly afraid of sharks (Yaaaaayyy PTSD)

Dib Membrane: Still a feral little paranormal investigator, he Zim go on crazy paranormal-hunting adventures together (YAAAYY Zadf), which Gaz joins sometimes. Sometimes it just ends up like a scooby-doo mystery where it turns out nothing supernatural was actually going on, sometimes they actually find some sort of paranormal thing. A lot of they’re hangouts are paranormal investigations. Dib’s still feral but he’s still calmer and more rational than Zim, while ZIm is much more rash and impulsive. Though Dib��s still more of a logical thinker, while Zim is a much more outside-the-box thinker, so they work well together. Sometimes they’ll butt heads and their competitiveness flares up again, but it’s more of a friendly, chaotic rivalry.

Gazlene “Gaz” Membrane: Gaz is a lot like how she was in the comics, still a jerk, but she still cares about her brother. Her care commonly shows in anger born of worry, she’s pretty much 80% of his impulse control.

Clembrane and Foodio 3000: Clembrane was a clone made by membrane so that membrane could get more stuff done, but the cloning didn’t go so well, which is why Clembrane is the way he is. Clembrane just ends up doing housework, and has an odd fixation on pudding. (Professor doesn’t know why, he thinks it might be because that was one of the first thing they taught him to cook that came out edible). Foodio’s pretty much the same, but was instead created as a robo-butler to clean the house and do chores when membrane was to busy.

Skoodge Brians: Zim’s best friend besides Dib, he’s gullible, but he’s got a good heart and he means well. He’s also a strong boy, physically and emotionally. He, Zim, Dib, and Gaz make up a ragtag bunch of misfits and stand up for eachother togther, and go on their own misadventures. Skoodge takes the bullying he receives in stride because he tells himself (Or at least tries to) that they’re just empty insults. He’s usually the shoulder to cry on for the group. He’s the type of friend to just let himself into the house if he’s close enough with whoever lives there (I.e, The Membrane sibs and Zim).

Tak Vessel:  (I wanted her surname to be a reference to her ship in the show. Vessel is an actual surname, albeit rare, and is a synonym for ship). Tak is a transfer student from the UK (Hence her accent) causing occasional culture shock for her (”IT’S NOT CALELD SOCCER! IT’S CALLED FUTBOL!!!” “Tak please it’s just a game). She’s kind of a bully who usually targets Zim, but mostly because he keeps ticking her off. She does have her soft spots for the Membrane siblings and her little sister Mimi. She holds some begrudging respect for Skoodge for putting up with everyone’s BS, her included, she can’t even imagine having that kind of patience. She mellows down if you get on her good side and can be a good friend when she wants to, She’s not much of a bully as she is just able to go from 0 to 100 real easily. 

Minerva “Mimi” Vessel: Tak’s “creepy” little sister around Gir’s age. Tak is really close to her,  which comes as a surprise to most people since Tak is seen as the kind of person who’d bully their little sibling. Mimi is a creepy little Satan child, at least at surface level. She checks all the boxes on the creepy little kid list. She doesn’t talk, she has big ole eyes that stares into your soul, she usually plays or sits alone, and is into some dark things, like she’s the kid who’d read the original tale after watching a disney movie, and would prefer the original. But deep down she’s just shy. She opens up to Gir later in the series, and usually lets him talk for her (Either by whispering in his ear and having him repeat what she just said, or communicating in sign language and having him translate, Gir’s translations are the same quality as google translate, not entirely accurate but you can get what she’s trying to say if you connect the dots). Mimi only speaks when she deems it necessary, since she has a stutter and a bit of a lisp when she speaks, which she’s really insecure about.

Tennessee “Tenn” Michaels: (I know literally nothing about Tenn please forgive me) A lively girl who’s kind of a ditz, but always tries her best and is quick to know when she’s made a mistake. She’s a friend of Skoodge’s so she knows the main squad just by proximity. She’s much more of a girly girl then Tak and Gaz, but they humor her because it makes her happy. Her parents run a daycare which she helps with sometimes, although “Help” usually means “Be offered as a sacrifice to a bunch of insane toddlers” in her eyes (Kinda like being sent tons of defective sir units in the show, except she’s only stuck with them until they’re parents pick them up). Sometimes she joins the main squad with they’re paranormal investigations or general shenanigans, but usually she can’t because she’s busy helping her parents at the daycare. She’s pretty much the only main character who’s not unpopular and has more then 4 or 5 friends.

Floog Gregor: Floog is a shy boy who’s also friends with Skoodge. He’s timid but he tries to be a good leader, and he’s even vice president of the student council at Skool. He looks up to his Dad, Theen, who’s a commander serving in the navy seals. Floog doesn’t get to see his dad very often, at least not in person (They do things like phone calls and video chat, but it’s not the same) Floog knows that his dad’s very busy, and that he has to sacrifice family time for his job. But since Theen’s a navy seal (I’ll keep it vague where Theen is serving specifically because I don’t want to offend anyone) Floog feels selfish for wanting his dad to come home, because of this, Floog has a tendacy to put others before himself. Like Tenn, Floog sometimes joins the main gang in their misadventures, but he’s usually too scared. When he does join them, he’s the most hesitant to do anything, and pretty much takes orders from the others. He’s pretty much the Shaggy of the group.

Minimoose: The Invaedirs pet cat. (I made him a cat because cats go “Nyah!” like Minimoose) He’s a chubby lil good boi who waddles and causes trouble and cutes his way out of it. Zim found him in a dumpster and named him “Minimoose” because according to Zim, he looks like a miniature moose. Red and purple thought the name was stupid, Gir liked it, Miyuki thought it was hillarious, Spork didn’t really care, so Minimoose got his name via majority vote. Zim’s the closest with him, and Zim even talks to Minimoose sometimes. (”MINIMOOSE! Red pushed me again, how can I get him to stop pushing me?! “Nyah” “Good Idea Minimoose! Putting Red down means I WOULD get pushed less!” “Nyah” “Yes Minimoose, I love you too.”)

[tsarinastorm]

Until Somebody Stops Having Fun-Adam Sackler/Reader-Chapter 1

Rating: Explicit

You met Adam at a party at the bookstore you owned. The bookstore would host poetry nights, book clubs, release parties, and numerous other events. You were even working on developing an app for your store to help bring it into the twenty-first century. You had moved to New York on a whim, deciding to pursue writing yourself, then you ended up merging writing with your legal background to become a literary agent. You loved helped getting writers the best possible contracts, through that you met Andy, who left you the bookstore. Andy decided to take an early retirement and spend his time traveling. Not a relationship person, you had liaisons or flings, however whatever this was with Adam felt different.

Things with Adam were still new, only two weeks, and it was still very exciting. He had been coming over every other night, you’d hook up, talk, and get a bite to eat. He’d normally sneak out after you fell asleep, he’d be quiet and lock up. Then he’d message you one or two days later asking if you could meet again and if he could come over. Tonight, he was coming over after his theater rehearsal, and he said he was bringing takeout. You had never talked about what you were, if anything at all besides fuck buddies, and a part of you wanted to clear the air, while the other part didn’t want to mention it in case it would ruin whatever you had. You didn’t want a relationship yet but you had wanted some clear title on the situation.

You throw on a cozy sweater, take off your bra, and then put on a pair of cheekie underwear. You decide to veg out since you had some free time and it would still be a while before Adam would show up. Your two dogs, Benji and Barney, beagle mix brothers you rescued, join you on the couch. After you put on the same show you’ve been binge-watching lately, and before you know it you’re dozing off.

TWO WEEKS AGO

This was a limited release party hosted by one of your friends, and things seemed to be going well until you could hear an altercation taking place. When you move towards the scene, you can see a petite blonde woman screaming at a large, dark-haired man. Before you can step in between them, she takes her drink and throws at him, the liquid going all over his face, hair, and shirt. As you go towards the woman to tell her to get out before you call the police, she’s out the door. The man tries to dry himself off and is somehow un-stunned by the woman’s reaction. You go up to him, offer him a napkin. He takes it and says, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

           “Hold on, I have towels in the back. C’mon.” You say and you can tell the man takes a moment to register your statement because there’s a pause before he follows you. Trotting towards the back linen closet, you can’t help but look over your shoulder at the man. First, he’s much taller than you, and broad-shouldered. Second, he’s got a unique looking face that you find very attractive. And the hair, you’re a sucker for good hair. Your night has definitely become more interesting. You can see him eying you up too, or at least you hope that’s what he’s doing.

           You hand the man the towel, and he gives you a slight smile. As he wipes himself off, he says again, “Thanks, you really didn’t have to help me.”

           “Now, c’mon I couldn’t just let that happen, unless you deserved it.” You say as he hands you the towel back, and you notice how his hand brushes yours ever so lightly. He raises his eyebrows and says, “That happens a lot with us. I usually deserve it.”

           “Did you cheat? Are you an abusive asshole?” You ask and he shakes his head no to your inquiry. You tell him, “Then you didn’t deserve that.”

           “I’m Adam, by the way. Adam Sackler.” He says and offers you his hand. You take it and introduce yourself to him. He then asks, “Do you work here? You look familiar.”

           “I actually own it. That’s why I know where all the towels and good stuff is. I’m also an agent, hence the party.” You answer and you see him smile at you. “Damn that’s impressive. I’m an actor and I write some too. I did a short film not long ago.”

“Aren’t you the Torpica guy?” It clicks in your head that’s why he looks vaguely familiar.  He however, looks embarrassed and starts defending himself, “Shamefully yes. I routinely get told from guys that they can’t get their dick hard on Torpica.”

You laugh at his last comment before asking him, “Broadway or non-Broadway?”

“Broadway for now. I’m in The Seagull.” You’re impressed, The Seagull is one of your favorites, and Broadway is always huge for actors. He must be talented you think to yourself. His eyes lock onto yours like a predator locking unto prey. Just not yet though. You move slightly away from him and start walking back to the party. He follows you, and soon the two of you are mingling with others at the party like you never met.

Honestly, you’re a bit disappointed because you thought that was going somewhere. Maybe that’s why the girl threw her drink on him in the first place. It was New York after all, you could end up seeing him again and again, or he’d become a ghost you’d only see once. Time would tell.

                                                      ********

Apparently, Adam would not be rid of so easily. The next day your shop opens, he strolls in within a half-hour of opening. At first, he tries to appear oblivious, looking through the shelves, then stealing a glance from you before he finally decides to approach you. You smile and he gives you a crooked smile that makes your heart flutter.

“Hey, I guess I wanted to see you again.” Adam says when he’s only feet in front of you. You raise your eyebrows in fake shock, step away from the register, then ask, “Really? Are you intrigued?”

“Very, very intrigued.” He says and his eyes stay locked with yours. The sensuality is practically rolling off this guy, even if he’s not the best at small talk. You’re going to have to step it up a notch than you usually use on your conquests, so you ask, “What do you want to know about me?”

“Everything. Or whatever you want me know.” He stammers, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. You begin moving around the store, Adam joins you, and you chuckle as you tell him, “Good catch. Not looking for a stalker.”

Before you know it, the two of you are in chairs side by side in the classics nook on the upper level. You had to have your employee, Annie, cover your post downstairs. Adam had been here for two hours, and the two of you talked bad dates and bad nights. You were surprised to hear that a woman throwing a drink on him wasn’t even in his top ten. You then moved onto your favorite books, writers, poets. Then he says, “You’re a fan of the classics, then?”

“I certainly am. But how did you know? My favorites were varied.” You ask back, leaning into him, then you take a drink of your coffee. He responds with, “This the first real place you took me in this big store. We’ve been here the longest.”

“You do pay attention. It’s very calming up here.” You stand up and start browsing the shelves that you already check every day. Adam comes up beside you and you can feel the heat rolling off his body. The two of you start talking about the classics: which ones are overrated, which ones are underrated, and which are wrongly categorized. He asks you what you’re currently reading and he’s surprised that you’re on a poetry kick, mainly a female poetry kick. He confesses he’s read a lot of Chekhov to help him with the role. This chitter-chatter between you feels effortless and natural, even when it’s awkward at times. When his eyes hit 100 Years of Solitude, he adds, “I once dated a girl who was related to Gabriel Garcia Marquez.”

“Okay, I’ll admit you certainly live a very interesting life. Now I’m curious about your other relationships? Mainly the girl who caused the scene in my store.” You say and you’re wondering if he’ll open to you, or if the wall will come up. It’s really none of your business, but the fact he brushed off that incident with the drink makes you wonder what his love life must normally be like.

“That was Jessa, and that was a whole clusterfuck of a situation. It was batshit crazy. But it’s kind of a long story.” He admits and runs his hands through his hair. You turn to smirk at him, angling your body to lean against the bookshelf while you purposefully graze your fingers along the back of his hand, “I have time.”

Then, you hear about his soapbox of past relationships. Hannah, fuck Hannah, Natalia, also a bitch, MiMi Rose, who was just awful, and Jessa, queen of toxicity. That’s why you never really wasted time dating or in relationships, they get so fucked up so fast. You listen to his side of the story, only commenting to let him know you’re still paying attention to him. He has flaws like anyone does but you can’t imagine anyone treating him poorly. Adam seemed like a sincere and genuine person. He then tells you, “You know, I don’t think anyone’s ever just listened to me before. Except you, that was nice.”

“No problem, I’m sorry you’ve had such rough luck in relationships.” You say back and you really didn’t mind listening to him. He was funny, charming, and nice to be around, listening to him was easy.

“I brought most of it on myself. What about you?” He admits. That’s the million dollar question. Every guy you’ve ever been interested in or has been interested in you, wants to know. You hate discussing it, and normally you’d leave mystery around it, but Adam was open and honest with you. You should be open and honest with him.

“I don’t really date or do relationships. I’ve had one serious boyfriend in the last five years.” Your eyes drift downwards even though you try to prevent them from giving in. What it is about this man that makes you feel vulnerable and is turning your world upside down after two days? Adam gently places his hand on your shoulder, trying to cheer you up from your sudden downshift in mood. When you look up at him, his amber eyes look confused like he’s trying to work out a difficult math problem in his mind. He finally asks you, “Why not? No doubt you must have men crawling over you all the time.”

“Commitment issues. It’s just not my thing.” You try to brush it off. Adam’s not fazed by your negativity or your attempt to push him away. It seems to strengthen his resolve.

“Well, if you think that’s going to deter me, you don’t know how persistent I can be.” He says while giving you a smile. Most men you would blatantly shot down by now, or you would eat them alive, but something about Adam felt right, and it felt good. And it terrified you.

                                                          *****

The next evening, he shows up as you’re closing up the shop. You invite him to come with you to a party, and you’re surprised that he agrees without hesitation. The party is in a penthouse in Noho, owned by one of your acquaintances. She was the type who was born into money, so she hopped from thing to thing, been in and out of school several times. She was one of your writers, for a short time before she moved onto something else, but apparently she liked you well enough to invite you to her ragers. You and Adam make your way towards the bar, where you order your usual drink and you’re surprised when he orders seltzer water.

“You don’t drink?” You ask. He tells you, “I’m an alcoholic.”

“Damn, if I had known I wouldn’t have invited you here. I didn’t even think.” You feel bad, you just assumed he wouldn’t have a problem with the party. Now you felt bad that you could be tempting him or making him feel uncomfortable. It must show on your face because he leans in, and touches your shoulder saying, “It’s really okay. Don’t feel bad about it.”

You nod your head, and you eye the dance floor. He watches you, then he offers his hand, and asks you dance. He has crazy dance moves and you can’t hide how it makes you smile. You throw your classic, go-to moves. Then he pulls you into him, spins you and dips you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. You come back up, and your body is flush against his, you can feel every muscle he has, even his heart beating in his chest. You can smell his cologne, and you’re feeling lightheaded, not from the alcohol but from him.

Adam’s face is inches from you, you can feel his breath on your cheek. You think he’s leaning to kiss you, but instead his hand moves to the small of your back as he whispers in your ear, “Want to get out of here?”

“Sure.” You smile, he grabs your hand and you move your way through the crowd.

*****

           About an hour later, you’re sitting in this eclectic diner across from Adam and you’re still trying to read him. He’s certainly very interesting and tells you about himself while at the same time telling you nothing really. You decide to appraise him with your three question game.

“Bookstore, e-book, or audio book?” You ask as you take a drink of coffee. His answer is bookstore. Check. “London, Paris, or Florence?” “Mac and cheese, sushi, or Mexican?” “Fitzgerald, Wilde, Kafka?” “How do you take your coffee?” He answers all of your questions satisfactorily. You’ve decided that you’re taking him home tonight, but you have to check off a few more rational boxes first.

“Criminal record?” This one makes him laugh and he explains how his one ex called the cops on him. You think he’s explained enough, so you move on to the next major question. “Married or in a relationship?”

“Single” He says with emphasis. He already explained that the British blonde chick was Jessa, his ex who he still fucked sometimes. Next, “STDs,” you ask coolly, watching closely for any reactions. He answers with, “I’m clean and get routinely checked.”

“Where do you live?” He tells you Prospect Heights, and that is a shock to you though he does definitely strikes you as a Brooklyn guy. Then, the most important question you do a drum roll on the table before leaning in to ask in a low voice, “How often do you masturbate?’

           “Twice a day at least,” he says like it’s no big deal, like you just asked him his favorite food. You can’t hold back a laugh. You’re pleased with his honesty, and raise your hand to request the check. Then, the two of you were in your apartment, with him fucking you from behind on the couch. You later moved to your bedroom, where you rode him, then you woke up that morning to him eating you out. So yeah, you were impressed. You had never had that many orgasms from a partner before.

Later that morning, after he makes you eggs for breakfast, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, you lean into him. After giving your head a quick kiss, he says, “We should do this again sometime. I had a good time, I think you had a good time. Or I can take you a date.”

You feel yourself tense involuntarily. Adam removes himself from you, so he’s now standing in front of you, waiting for an explanation. It’s not fair how perfect he looks, how are you supposed to have this conversation when an Adonis is standing in front of you? You tell him, “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m not really the dating type, relationships make me feel claustrophobic.”

“Really? I don’t believe you” He says in a sing-song voice as he leans in to press kisses on your each of your cheeks, and then down your neck. Your hands go straight to his hair again to lace through the soft tresses. You feel your voice get airy and your concentration starts to go as you say, “Yeah, I’m too busy, kind of self-involved, and I’m not the type who goes to meet your family, goes out for anniversaries or anything.”

“So what do you do then?” He murmurs against the skin of your collarbone, where he’s now left a bruise. His lips don’t stop caressing your skin, grazing the tops of your breasts, and you can feel his hand slip the back of your thigh. You grab onto his hair, and bring his face to meet yours. His pupils are darkened with lust, and you answer his question with, “Liaisons. I do liaisons.”

Adam inches forward to kiss you softly, and it’s you that asks for more, running your tongue along his bottom lip. He grants you entrance as his hands go to cup your face, then rest on your neck. You’re stunned by the passion and sweetness of this kiss, you really might be a goner for this guy. He pulls away, his face turns serious, then he tells you, “I promise I won’t take you to meet my family, but I do really like you so no long term promises.”

“I can guarantee that you’ll want me to meet your family. I like you too.” You chuckle back, and he starts laughing too. His large hands palm your ass, before moving upward to rest at your waist. This affection is nice, nearly addictive. His eyes flicker when he asks, “What happens now?”

“We fuck. Hard.” You say and he’s on you kissing you, as he picks you up to head towards the bedroom once again.

********

PRESENT

You’re awoken from your nap by Adam buzzing into your apartment. The noise makes Benji and Barney howl slightly. You try to shush them as you go to let Adam in. Once you open the door, he eyes you up and down. You suddenly feel self-conscious because you’re still not really dressed and your hair is up in a messy bun. Adam looks like he wants to eat you.

“You look hot as fuck.” He says and quickly follows you inside. You barely make it through the door before he’s on you. He drops the takeout, and his jacket to press you against the door. His lips crush yours, and his tongue is instantly licking into your mouth. Your hands fly around his shoulders to run through his hair as he grinds his hips into you, he’s rock hard already. His lips descend upon your neck while his hand makes its way into your panties. His fingers waste no time dragging along your wet folds.

“So wet, already? My dirty slut ready for my cock?” He taunts while his thumb circles your clit, and he thrusts his middle and index finger into you. You moan while his other hand squeezes your tits. You’re going to cum soon if he doesn’t slow down, apparently he’s in that kind of mood because your moans only encourage him to add more pressure, and rub circles fervently. You feel the pleasure build in your lower stomach, and creep down your legs, then Adam abruptly stops his ministrations to your chagrin.

“Ah, what the fuck?” you groan. Adam’s fingers are still between your legs, his thumb drawing light circles on your clit. He looks so smug, with a sly smile and blown out pupils.

“You didn’t answer my question. Answer and you’ll get to come.”

“Yes, your dirty slut is ready for your cock, Please let me come.” His thumbs presses down on your clit again, and thrusts his fingers into you, crooking up to your spot. Then your orgasm rocks through, leaving your muscles to clench, while your head drops to your shoulders. He watches you as you come down, then he picks you, you wrap your legs around his waist. You kiss him everywhere your lips can reach and your hands search under his shirt for his skin. He sets you down on top of your table with your legs spread wide, and he’s placed himself in between them.

You reach to pull off his shirt as he then pulls yours off too. He then turns to your panties and they’re quickly removed from you. As you kiss him, your hands unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans and start working his cock. Your hand jerks his cock and spreads the bead of precum around the tip. He moans and thrust into your hand.

“Can’t wait any longer to fuck you.” He says as he guides his cock into you. You lean back nearly flat against the table and pull your legs up to give him the deepest angle. His thrusts start off rough and hard, then are more drawn out, leaving you both moaning. He picks up the pace again, you can hear the sound of your bodies slapping together, his balls smacking against your ass. He leans into to kiss you, you hitch your leg behind his hip, while his hand sneaks down to work your clit. Your second orgasm is building fast and you can tell from his thrusts he’s close too.

“Ah, I’m gonna come!” You shout, then you clench around him. There’s filth coming out of his mouth.

“ Fuck, your cunt is milking is my cock! Such a cumslut! Where does my cumbucket want me to cum?” He says jaggedly. You tell him, “Cum on my tits, I want you to cum on my tits.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses as he pulls out and pumps himself. Soon, there’s streams of his cum on your chest and on your stomach. You both catch your breath, then he kisses you sweetly, retrieves his shirt and cleans you up. You thank him and get up to recover the takeout that he left by the door. Silently, you heat up a plate for yourself then one for him. You take the plates over to your coffee table in front of your couch. Adam looks very distressed for some unknown reason, you hope he didn’t want to actually eat on that table after you fucked on it.

“Adam, is something wrong?” You finally ask while you shovel food in your mouth. You’re starving so if he’s having a post-coital meltdown it will have to coincide with dinner.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks and you have no idea why he thinks that you’re mad.

“No, why would I be mad?” You ask.

“You know I have no idea what I say before I cum. I didn’t mean anything I said about you” He answers and looks down.

“Oh my gosh, I’m not mad at you. Do you seriously think I’d let you stay here if I was offended or thought you meant it?” You tell him. What he said during sex didn’t bother you at all, that was how dirty talk worked. Of course he didn’t mean it seriously.

“I guess not.” He says then smiles before finally digging into the takeout.

“I happen to like your dirty talk, I find it very sexy.” You say and stand up to take your plate to the dishwasher. You’re sure to perk your ass out as you walk in front of him, enjoying seeing how his eyes follow you.

The next morning you wake to find yourself surrounded by a hulk of man sleeping beside you, or precisely, partially on top of you. Adam must have stayed the night after round two. You had always considered yourself in touch with your sexuality, but with Adam you felt utterly insatiable, always wanting more. No matter how many times you came. You maneuver out of bed towards shower. You let the hot water relax you, then as you’re lathering up, Adam joins you.

           After yet another round of fucking, you’re now both fully dressed and ready to go about your days. The two of you walk out of your apartment building, and once you’re on the street, he pulls you flush against him, asking, “When can I see you again?”

           “Don’t get attached to me, I’ll break your little heart. But you really want to do this?” You ask and he nods his head yes. This would be your time to define this relationship. You pull him back in the street to give the two of you some privacy. He says, “I want to do whatever you want me to do. No labels, or labels, I don’t give a shit. I want to be with you.”

           “Alright. Friends with benefits then. I’m free from Sunday to Tuesday afternoons, but sometimes catch up on work those days. I work long hours at the store on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday because there are readings, book clubs and releases. I hate getting up early in the morning, and am monster without coffee. In the bedroom, I like some choking, bdsm. I’ll try any toy, I’ve never done anal but I’m willing to try it with the right partner. I’m on birth control but I’d still prefer you to wear condoms and come outside sometimes. Just don’t come in my hair. But I’m sure you already know half of that.” You say, taking a deep breath and he’s followed your whole statement as evidence by his slightly amused face. He kisses you deeply, pushing you against the brick wall and says, “I think can do all of those things.”

           “I’ll come by your place, tonight then.” He says as he walks down the street and you smile and nod your assent. You’re looking forward to seeing him again, and wonder how long he’ll stick around. Normally, your dalliances never lasted more than a month or two, but Adam was unique.

[piccolina-mina]

But Who Takes Care of You?

Fandom: Roswell, New Mexico 

Pairing/Characters: Kyle Valenti and Maria DeLuca (Kyluca) 

Inspo: Who takes care of the caretakers? 

A/N: Because the show really needs to let Kyluca be great (preferably better than this, but it’s something). 

They’re the best apart, and they’d be even better together if they ever got more screentime. It’s a random freestyle I wasn’t sure if I would share, but #KylucaRights.:)

~~~~ 

i.

The desert air made him instantly feel at home.

The sun beamed down as he inhaled deeply and ignored the jostle of folks scurrying in and out of the airport.

“Ay Guapo!”

He didn’t have to see her to recognize the voice. His lip curled up into a genuine smile. His eyes darted around him until he saw her standing a few feet ahead holding a “Dr. McSexy” sign and smirking at him.

He sauntered over to her, his carry on in tow, and pulled his sunglasses off when he got closer.

“Are you posing? Rubbing it in with those cheekbones,” she snorted. “Every time I see you, you get hotter, Valenti.”

Maria flashed him that stunning smile that made him return one in kind.

“I would say the same, but you’ve always been hot. A little hard to improve on perfection.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned widely and before he realized it, he was wrapped up in her arms.

He squeezed her back, basked in her scent of sandalwood and vanilla, and the shea and coconut that clung to her hair.

They hugged for what felt like an eternity, but it was only a few moments.

He didn’t know when it happened exactly. He and Maria socialized in school, but they were never particularly close.

He was more than aware of how much of an ass he was back then, and she didn’t hesitate to remind him. Rosa’s death changed everything.

Their world tilted on its axis. He never anticipated how one tragedy could change the trajectory of their lives.

He didn’t know Rosa enough to feel like he lost her, but he lost Liz. Those years after were life-altering.

Any opportunity he had to make it back home, outside of his mother, the only constant was Maria. She was there, and familiar, and somehow they developed a bond over the years.

She kept up with his life on social media – the graduation ceremonies, the late-night bitching during residency, and her personal favorite thirst posts on Instagram.

He kept up with her too. She told him things his mother never did and updated him on old friends, like Alex. 

He visited her at the Pony when he was in town, and sometimes they would catch a movie at the drive-in and reminisce on the old days. Mainly, they would imagine what Liz Ortecho was up to.

“I thought you were driving?” Maria squinted up at him. She nudged him until he started walking, and it was only when they neared her truck did he realize she was driving him.

“I planned on it, but I got called into the hospital early at the last minute,” he stopped at her car and leaned against it taking in his surroundings and smiling fondly.

“Admit it, you were homesick and wanted out of Iowa,” Maria teased. She raised a brow daring him to refute.

“It was very cold and very white.”

Her laugh was contagious, and he found himself joining in with her.

“I just told mom before I boarded the flight. How’d you find out I was coming in early?”

“I’m psychic, remember?” She winked at him playfully, and he couldn’t stop grinning.

Maria always had that effect. She had a way of making everyone around her smile. She was comforting and real, and he never realized how much he missed her energy until he was sucked back into her orbit.

“You didn’t have to come for me,” he said quietly. “I know my way home.”

She shrugged, signaled for him to toss his luggage in the back and disappeared into the driver seat before he could read her expression.

He took his time arranging his luggage and sliding into the passenger seat. He sensed she needed a moment to regroup and put on that fun-loving facade he adored but knew she clung to more than she let on.

“Seriously, Maria. I know you’re busy,” he said carefully.

She reached out now and then for inquiries. His mother was the one who told him about Mimi’s mental deterioration, how she had bad days, and Maria juggled the Pony and looking after her mom.

He tried not to pry, but from what he knew, no one could figure out what was wrong.

“All work and no fun makes Maria a dull girl,” she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel as they waited for the cars ahead of them to pull off.

“I take off on special occasions,” she honked her horn, and he winced at the person flipping the bird back at them.

“I’m a special occasion?”

He went for sly, but something about the way her eyebrow rose equal parts impressed and flirty gave him the impression it sounded more suggestive than he intended.

But Maria always gave as good as she got.

“Only if you’re lucky, Valenti. You’re not that lucky.”

“The Insta comments say otherwise,” he teased her.

She shot him an annoyed look utterly ruined by her scrunched up mouth as she tried to keep from laughing.

Finally, a break in the traffic and Maria shot forward. He gripped the seat and instantly recalled her penchant for going above the speed limit.

“It feels like a special occasion anytime anyone makes it back home.” She was serious, and something about the tone of her voice made him want to squeeze her hand, but he refrained.

“Everyone deserves a welcome wagon, Kyle.”

‘It doesn’t get any warmer.“ He tilted his head to the side and added. “Thanks to you.”

And in a quintessential Maria move, she turned up the volume. He didn’t contain his excitement when the car flooded with Regulate.

Somewhere between the highway and his mother’s house they ended up in a heated rap battle sing-along, and he didn’t care what Maria said, he won.

Returning home came with its share of memories, many of them painful.

But it came with friends too.

ii.

 "Right or wrong. Don’t it turn you on–“

“Maria?!” He called out. The second he unlocked his apartment, her voice bounced across the no longer bare and no longer white walls.

“Can’t you see we’re wastin’ time, yeah,” she continued.

From the way she was swinging her hips and bobbing her head, he suspected her music was up too high for her to hear him.

“Maria!’ He called out louder, as he dropped his keys on the counter and shut the door behind him.

"Do you wanna touch …Yeah.”

“Maria!’ He tried again to no avail. He had to give it to her; she was committed. Her long legs and short overalls were splattered in paint.

She had her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she was retouching a small spot with the last of the paint.

He leaned against the kitchen island and for the first time took in his apartment. She had rearranged his furniture, finally putting it in place after far too long spent collecting dust in the first place the movers sat it down.

All of his boxes were emptied, and everything was seemingly put away. Instead of the college frat boy vibe happening from the moment he moved in, his place looked every bit the trendy bachelor pad that it was.

"Do you wanna touch– FUCK, Kyle!”

Maria spun around mid-dance move, and if he didn’t literally know any better, he would have thought he gave her a heart attack.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she tossed the paintbrush into the pan and swiped hair away from her forehead.

“Funny you should say that,” he tried to suppress his laughter, but it didn’t work. She rolled her eyes at him and plucked her earbuds out of her ears.

“I had the same reaction given there was someone else in my apartment. It’s been a while since I came home to a woman playing house.”

“See, this is the kind of tea I like to hear, and yet you keep withholding.”

He shook his head and padded to the refrigerator for a drink. Halfway through guzzling an iced tea, he noticed she was actually serious about her statement.

He made his way around the island until he was in front of her. Handed her a bottle and rested against the back of the couch.

“Fine, she was a live-in girlfriend for a year. She worked at the hospital too.”

Maria squealed. He found her way too thrilled about his love life, but who was he to deny her the small joys of gossip when she had done so much for him?

“Did she greet you at the door with a martini in hand?” She joked.

“Nah, usually she was naked,” he winked at her.

“Hate to disappoint you, Valenti, but I took a more practical approach.”

He softened staring around his apartment and all the changes she made.

His mother had got on his case for weeks about making his apartment into a home, but between work and sleep, he hadn’t gotten around to it.

She bought the paint, deliberately pushed boxes into the middle of the floor and hoped it would be enough to prompt him to get to work, but two months later, his apartment wasn’t that different than when he moved in.

Until now.

He didn’t recognize the curtains framing the windows or the area rugs, but given the color and flair, he knew it was all Maria.

His kitchen appliances were where they should have been. Throw pillows made his leather couch pop, and the tv no longer sat atop sturdy boxes but rather an actual stand.

For the first time, his apartment actually felt like home.

“Maria,” his dark eyes met hers, and he could hear the emotion in his voice. He tried to keep it at bay as he internally processed why this touched him so much.

“You didn’t have to do this,” his eyes landed on a frame on a shelf, a picture of his father, and his mother’s rosary resting over it.

He pulled Maria to him with one arm before she could react. He pressed his lips to her hair before clearing his throat and stepping away.

“You really didn’t-”

“Hey,” her eyes sparkling like glitter was the only indication she gave him that she was emotional too. “It’s no big deal. The Wild Pony flooded today, damn pipe burst, so I’m losing a day and a half. I needed the distraction.”

She cupped his face tenderly, flashing him a half-smile before giving him a light smack, breaking the spell.

“It was getting depressing, Kyle. Two months of your shit lying around, if I didn’t do it, would you ever have gotten around to it?”

“You sound like my mother. I have my doubts, but I’m guessing that’s how you got in?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” she sing-songed backing up. “And you may want to enhance your security, just an FYI. I’d hook you up with my handy guy, but you two always had bad blood.”

He snorted. Not much changed between him and Michael Guerin since high school, but apparently, Maria developed a soft spot for the broody cowboy over the years.

“Hey, mind if a grab a quick shower before dinner?”

She asked, but it wasn’t lost on him that she was already headed towards the master bath.

She clearly had made herself at home.

“Why start asking now?” He plopped on the couch, finally getting the chance to put his feet up and relax after hours spent in the OR.

“Did you say dinner?” He bellowed from the couch.

“It’s on the way. I’m starving, and you’re paying. Don’t forget to tip,” she called out.

She peeked out from his bedroom dangling one of his workout shirts.

He could have sworn they were still packed in a box that morning, which meant Maria unpacked his bedroom too. The thought of that should have concerned him, but he pushed it out of his mind.

“I’m borrowing this!” Her head disappeared before he could so much as respond, and he chuckled to himself.

Before he knew it, he was tipping the delivery boy from his favorite BBQ joint, and Maria was setting up dinner in front of the big screen.

She smelled like his body wash, and she curled up on the couch next to him, cross-legged in his oversized shirt, and he didn’t even want to think about what of his she borrowed as bottoms.

“What’s your pleasure, D? Rom-com?” He took a bite of his brisket sandwich and hummed in appreciation.

“I know, right? The good stuff.” She mirrored him, a healthy bite making her cheeks bulge. “I don’t sniff at a good rom-com, but it’s an action kind of night.”

“Thank God,” he kicked his feet up on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. To his surprise, it was already keyed up for one of the Mission Impossibles.

“It’s OK, you don’t have to say it. I know I’m the best.”

He stole a french fry off her plate and laughed when she swatted his hand away. After a while, they settled into a comfortable silence watching the movie.

Truthfully, she really was.

iii.

On the anniversary of his father’s death, he learned to throw himself into work.

In the early days, in his youth, he would toy with a bottle of whiskey, roll the top between his fingers. He would inhale, slow and deep and wonder if he’d find a reason for why he had to lose his father so early in the bottom of a bottle.

He thought it would bring them closer together … him closer to understanding the man who he worshipped and ached for every day.

His father found answers at the bottom of a bottle, why couldn’t he?

But it was a slippery slope, and he knew that.

He’s not an addict, but he could be, and the thought of slipping into the darkness scares the hell out of him.

So he directed his energy into something else, usually picking up other shifts. And while he and his mother checked in with each other, their grieving processes were different.

He never gave it much thought. He didn’t want to intrude.

But when he got a text from Maria, he realized maybe, since he was home again, it was time to grieve together.

The Wild Pony was packed, as usual, and he felt out of place in his scrubs he didn’t bother to change out of.

He glanced around, afraid of what he might find. Maria reassured him in brief texts, but that day he wouldn’t get any comfort until he saw his mother for himself.

Maria was serving up drinks with a tired smile, and when her eyes met his from across the room, she nodded.

He followed her gaze to the back of the Pony. His mother was in her street clothes. Her hair was loose and obscuring her face – a black curtain falling over her eyes and dipping into what appeared to be a lukewarm cup of coffee in front of her.

He sighed. The other drunks and regulars didn’t seem to notice her or him for that matter. His father got away with a lot, but he doubted his mother as a female sheriff could. Small towns meant lots of gossiping.

“Mom,” he squatted down in front of her, his knees groaning with the action after a long shift. “Let me take you home, mom.”

She looked at him with bleary eyes and tear-stained cheeks. She didn’t see him at first. It was like she was looking through him, but when he folded her hands into his, she finally did.

She didn’t say a word; she merely nodded and reached out to stroke his jaw.

The only thing that rivaled the sadness in her eyes was the shame. She stood and grabbed his arm like it was the last thing keeping her from drowning. When he saw how broken she appeared, he thought maybe he was.

“Take me home, perrito,” her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper as they shuffled toward the door.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and bit his lip to keep from crying. The burning warmth on the side of his face as he guided his mother through huddled bodies was like its own hug.

Maria eyed him from behind the bar her brows knit in concern and mouthed, ‘Are you OK” or something akin to it.

A curt nod was all he could muster before they slipped out.

The drive to his childhood home was short, but the process of getting his mother settled down was long.

She refused to sleep in her bed– the bed she shared with his father for years. She settled on the couch, and after he slipped into some old clothes of his lying around, he did too.

She slumped into his lap and curled up on the couch like a small child. He could still smell the stale beer and gin. He stroked her hair – his nimble fingers ghosting across her forehead and pressed a cool compress to her neck.

The blinking light on his phone caught his eye, and he checked his messages.

Maria texted once to ask if he was alright and called once too.

He wasn’t alright. He was far from it, but there was nothing that could be done. His father’s old clock sounded, and it was only then when he realized it was past midnight.

But it was too late; his fingers worked of their own volition calling Maria before he could think.

“Hello,” she sounded tired but also concerned. The whooshing in the background meant she was driving home for the night.

“Kyle,” she breathed. He looked down at his mother softly snoring in his lap, and then the photo on the coffee table, a family portrait, but he couldn’t bring himself to respond.

“It’s OK,” her voice was soft and soothing. “You don’t have to talk. I promise I won’t hang up.”

His eyes prickled with tears he had managed to restrain all day. A gurgled sound crawled up his throat, and he inhaled sharp surprised the choked sob came from him.

He pressed the heel of his palm to his eyes trying to staunch the dam, but it was no use.

He could hear Maria hum soothingly, but it only made him cry more.

And that was how they stayed. He heard her car stop, the sound of the key scratching against the door. He heard her breathing as she went about her nightly routine.

He heard the water running, the soft creak of her climbing into bed, her sighs as her body relaxed after a long day.

“Thank you,” his voice was hoarse as he whispered into the phone, but at least his words were back. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course, Kyle,” she sighed into the phone. “How is she doing?”

“Resting,” he whispered, not wanting to rouse her.

“How are you?”

The question caught him short. He exhaled slow, but it didn’t make his voice sound any less small and fragile. “I miss him,” he said honestly. “We both do.”

“I know,” Maria whispered back. “I know.”

And he knew she did. Her mother was still alive, but it was like she wasn’t there at all. Sometimes he wondered if that would feel worse; missing someone who was still there.

“I need to do better – be better,” he stroked his mother’s hair and bit back another strangled sob. “I’ve been so busy. We don’t check-in enough, and I–”

“You’re a good son, Kyle,” Maria yawned into the phone. “She talked about you nonstop, and she still does. She’s so proud of you.”

He sniffled and nodded his head, looking down at the woman in his lap. “Maybe so, but I should – ” he cleared his throat. “I just need to do a better job taking care of her too.”

“And you do, Ky…” Maria mumbled into the phone. Her speech slowed down as she struggled to stave off the slumber but failed. “But who takes care of you?”

He listened to her soft snores over the phone for a moment – the breathing of both women oddly relaxing him.

“Goodnight, Maria,” he whispered into the phone hanging up and succumbing to his own exhaustion.

iv.

He learned over the years that Maria had a knack for scaring the shit out of him, but it wasn’t until later he realized it wasn’t intentional on her part.

Somewhere between jamming out to his playlist and waiting for a gaggle of tourists to cross the town square, his passenger door opened unexpectedly.

Before he could so much as yelp in surprise, Maria slid in all flowy skirt and a hint of sandalwood.

“Shit! Maria, what –” one glance in her direction stopped him cold.

“Just drive, please,” her voice was raspy as if she had been crying, but he saw no traces of it.

“You want to talk about it?” He asked gently.

She placed bare feet up on the dash, her skirt billowing around her knees, and he refrained from lecturing her on the pitfalls of being in such a position if they ended up in an accident.

“No,” she said quietly. She pressed her face to the window and hugged herself.

He reached across the console and fastened her seatbelt for her, and turned the music up.

He didn’t know what was troubling her, but he understood the need for distraction.

He didn’t pry, but he did sing-a-long to his Latin mix badly. He could make Spanish sound the opposite of sexy when he made an effort, and while she didn’t join in, her lips would turn up just a tad during a particularly bad note. Her eyes were dark pools of sadness though.

She didn’t budge when he dropped letters off at the post office. She stared at the mechanizations of the car wash with that childlike wonder one never seemed to lose.

She tipped the young pimply-faced teen drying the car before he could dig out more singles, but she never said a word.

It was like he was on his own and Maria was his shadow.

She hopped out when it was time to go inside the grocery store. She tagged along like a bored kid, except she wasn’t so much bored as unusually quiet and distracted, with her mind a million miles away.

“I can feel your judgment from here,” he joked when he put a dozen frozen dinners into the basket.

“Inquiring minds want to know how are you a doctor with a body like that,” she gestured at him. “Living off of frozen dinners?”

“They’re quick, easy, and delicious. Don’t act like you don’t eat this shit too.” He tossed a box of Easy Mac into the basket and glowered.

“I’m poor, Kyle. Of course, I eat this shit,” she countered throwing two boxes of Pop-Tarts in with the other groceries.

“I’m poor too,” he smirked at her dubious expression. “Student loans.”

She nodded. “Touchè.”

To his surprise, shopping with Maria became an adventure. She tossed more crap into the cart, most of which he snuck out when she wasn’t looking.

She was a natural haggler too. She charmed the butcher into giving her, well, him, a deal on a couple of steaks which she promised to make for their next movie night.

They only had one mishap when he accidentally hit the back of her ankles with the cart, and he almost saw his life flash before his eyes when she glared at him.

They settled on a pint of ice cream, he caved to cookie dough because he promised her it would make her feel better, and they snagged a few spoons from the hot food bar before hitting the register.

She opted for the self-checkout, and he figured out it was for the best when she dug through her huge purse for a handful of coupons she knew she had in there.

He wasn’t a coupon person, and it embarrassed him a bit until he saved 13 bucks. He could live with Maria’s smug response after that.

She was lighter and happier, the Maria he was most familiar with by the time they settled down on a park bench to relax and share their pint.

An ensuing war over a coveted chunk of cookie dough led to a spoon battle and his utensil falling to its death in a pile of dirt.

“Mine!” She crowed claiming the piece.

He couldn’t resist laughing at her victory dance as she hummed in satisfaction at the sweet confectionery goodness melting on her tongue.

She didn’t see him coming when he plucked her spoon out of her mouth, dove into the pint and shoveled a hunk of ice cream into his.

“Hey, asshole!” She shrieked ignoring the dirty look a mother with her children shot her way.

“Sharing is caring,” he said around a mouthful of ice cream.

She rolled her eyes, snatched the spoon and pint back and went to town.

“This is the most fun I’ve had adulting in a long time,” he admitted truthfully.

“That’s because adulting isn’t meant to be fun,” she shrugged. The smile on her lips settled into a hard line.

“Let’s hear it, Maria.” He gently knocked his shoulder into hers. “Not that I didn’t enjoy you practically hijacking my car today, but what’s wrong?”

“They still don’t know what’s wrong with her,” she whispered. “Another specialist. More money that I don’t have spent, and no answer.”

She met his eyes briefly, and he saw the tears she was fighting back. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and offered a comforting squeeze.

“Maria, I can loan you–” he started even though he felt her tense beside him.

“No, Kyle. I can’t. You’ve helped me enough. Your colleague back in Iowa at least didn’t treat me like a crazy person or treat Mimi like an inconvenience. He was good, kind, and a breath of fresh air.

God knows I’ve run into my fair share of assholes. Not to mention the entire healthcare system is fucked…” she sighed.

He clenched his jaw as it pulsated with his own frustration. “Trust me, I know better than anyone.”

“It’s just every day I feel like I’m losing more of her,” she stared at a young mother helping a toddler climb on a plastic turtle.

“I know it seems like I …” she blew out a puff of air and distracted herself with stirring the remnants of ice cream until it became soupy.

“Losing pieces of her is like losing myself,” she shrugged. “She’s my compass, and she grounds me, without it – without her, I’m lost.”

He nodded. He understood that feeling after his father died.

“I think it’s incredible, the way you take care of Mimi…” he knew she didn’t always take compliments well, but he didn’t consider it a compliment so much as the truth. “It’s hard, and I can’t even begin to imagine, but I admire you, Maria. I hope you know that.”

She didn’t respond. She looked away instead, but he saw the way her cheeks were the slightest tinge of red.

“You take care of your mom, and you feed the community every month, and … ” he sighed, frustrated for his friend. “You need to let someone take care of you some time.”

“I’m a big girl, Kyle,” she went for light and flashed him that irresistible smile. “I can take care of myself.”

He wanted to add that she shouldn’t always have to, but in addition to knowing how hypocritical that would be of him, he sensed she wanted to drop the topic.

So he did.

“I’ll deny it later, and don’t let it get to your head, but I’m glad you’re back, Kyle.”

He chuckled, snatched the ice cream soup out of her hand and downed it.

“I am too,” he said after a while.

And he was.

v.

There were days when his job was the worst in the world.

Losing a patient never got easier, and no amount of experience could make delivering the news to the family less difficult.

His chest still ached from a pummel of fists hitting him as he eased a sobbing woman to the waiting room floor and held her.

His skin was blotchy and bruise. It was tender to the touch, but he welcomed the pain.

The pain reminded him that he was still alive, but it also reminded him that his patient wasn’t.

It took him a while to find a routine – something to direct all his energy towards in those dark moments.

Otherwise, the darkness would consume him. It would take a toll on him, but more importantly, it would interfere with his ability to be effective at his job.

He could never risk that; it was too important to him.

He retreated into himself. He declined the offers for drinks or dinner. He hit the gym and worked himself out until he collapsed, and then worked himself out some more.

Angry beats, a cacophony of harsh lyrics, blared in his ears as his feet slapped hard against the treadmill.

Sharp jabs against a punching bag until his knuckles were sore. 

Shadowboxing, more often than not, was easier on his hands; but sometimes he wanted to punish them for failing. For not healing. For allowing someone’s life to slip through their fingers.

He knew there was nothing he could have done, but feelings aren’t logical.

Then he hit the showers, hot water at a punishing setting sluicing against his skin in rivulets.

He drove home in silence, and sometimes he prayed and hoped the next day would be better.

On particularly hard days, an anguished scream would claw its way up to his throat, and he would cry. The echos of distraught family members and friends haunted him.

He would throw on a reality cooking competition and eat a frozen dinner until he fell asleep.

Everyone had their process.

His was almost complete until he arrived home and saw the kitchen light on over the stove.

He cursed to himself when he dropped the keys on the counter. He couldn’t… be if his mother dropped in.

She knew what it was like losing a person, but her way of coping differed from his.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk,” Maria came out of the bathroom not the least bit surprised by his appearance.

“I heard … that accident,” she wiped her hands down her sides to get off the remaining moisture. “I’m not staying. I just brought you something to eat.”

He was frozen in place, and he couldn’t meet her eyes. “Thanks,” he responded sharply.

He didn’t trust himself to say more, and fortunately, Maria seemed to understand.

He dropped his gym bag on the floor beside him.

His hair was still dripping from the shower, and his body already ached, and he just wanted to fall face-first into the couch, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

The intrusion threw him all out of wack. Any move could lead to him being more vulnerable than he wanted to be in anyone’s presence, even hers.

But then there was something about her presence …

“I’m heading out now,” she said softly. “Text me later.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile as she brushed past him. She squeezed his shoulder on her way past. “Sorry for your loss, Kyle.”

His hand entangled with hers before he could think about it, grabbing and locking her hand in his as she breezed past.

“Stay,” his voice was gruff even to his own ears. “Please. If it isn’t too much trouble.”

She squeezed his hand and nodded.

He went around the island and peeled back the foil on the plate she left him. It was still hot.

He shuffled to the couch and collapsed on it like the wind had been knocked right out of him.

He turned on an old Master Chef and ate in silence. It wasn’t until a sweaty bottle of root beer was placed in his hand that he noticed Maria hadn’t sat beside him yet.

She was standing off to the side, and it suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks that she was trying to give him space.

Larger than life Maria DeLuca was making herself small for him, and that wouldn’t do.

He knew she meant well, but it made him feel shittier.

“I promise I don’t bite,” he went for a light joke, but it fell flat.

“No, you don’t,” Maria finally sat beside him, and his body relaxed. “You don’t need to make me feel comfortable, Kyle. I just wanted to give you space.”

Her hand entwined with his, and they sat in silence. But then it switched to Master Chef Juniors, and he lost it.

A toothy 10-year-old, eerily reminiscent of his patient, smiled into the camera. To his utter embarrassment, he began sobbing.

“He was only seven,” he sputtered. His voice was choked up and every attempt to rein himself in failed. “He loved wrestling and Spiderman. He wanted to be a fireman when he grew …” he couldn’t finish – cut off by his own sob.

He felt her shift closer, her arms wrapped around him tight enough to stop the onslaught of anxious breathing.

He buried his face into her neck, his embarrassment abandoned in favor of the full-body release of his sadness, anger, and pain.

Maria clicked her tongue, rocked him gently, and brushed her lips across his temple and damp hair.

“I’m s-sorry,” he choked out, aware of how he was dampening her neck and shirt with tears and God knows what else.

“Shhhh,” she hummed soothingly. “Talk it through. It’s OK if I don’t understand the procedure; just talk it through.”

He ran through the entire surgical procedure. Every step leading up to Levi’s surgery and every tool he used.

Maria stopped him on occasion to confirm it was the proper protocol, the proper utensil, and so on. When he was done, she made him repeat it all over again.

They were settled into the couch by then, his head resting on her chest wedged beneath her chin.

She scratched at his scalp, and at some point, his tears subsided, and his breathing matched hers.

“You did everything right, Kyle,” she said after a while. 

“Bless that sweet baby’s soul and his parents. You didn’t make any mistakes. There’s nothing else you could’ve done. He had the best care by the best doctor until he closed his eyes, and he went peacefully. Mourn him, but don’t let it eat away at you.”

He nodded. Knowing the truth and hearing the truth were two different things.

At some point, he felt he should have extricated himself from her embrace, but a selfish, lonely part of him relished the comfort.

As if reading his mind, like the psychic she proclaimed to be, she hugged him tighter.

Her heartbeat lulled him into the soundest sleep he had in months.

When he woke up, he was hugging a pillow that still smelled of her. it was a quarter past two.

He scanned the room bleary-eyed, the throw tossed over him tumbling to the floor with the effort.

The blinking on his cellphone let him know he had a text.

Had to run. Rest up and start again tomorrow. ♡

He shuffled into his room and fell onto his bed. He expected to feel a wave of regret and embarrassment, but it never came.

Instead, he felt unburdened.

vi.

He didn’t sign up for this. Him, Liz, Rosa, Alex, and Maria. None of them did.

But extraterrestrial bullshit invaded their lives, and they made do with it. Whether it was love and feelings or a birthright, the alien fight became their own.

But they weren’t resistant to attacks. They weren’t immune. They were fragile and susceptible.

They weren’t soldiers; they were humans. Assets. Liabilities. Victims.

Rosa was a victim once. It was something he fought to make peace with, and that took a long time. But now she was a victim too.

Flashes of the past two days flickered through his mind like an old film.

Another survivor from the crash was in their midst. What began as a tenuous partnership to help revive Max turned into lines drawn and a declaration of war.

All wars have casualties, and Maria was nearly one.

He couldn’t shake the image of Michael carrying her lifeless body across the desert.

It was the most distraught he had seen him since the prison explosion. Liz and Rosa flanked his sides.

Alex and Max were closing in behind them. There was blood everywhere.

He did what he could to stop the bleeding while Michael sped to the hospital.

He worked on her all the way to the OR, straddled over her form on the gurney willing her to live.

He physically fought his colleagues trying to rip him away.

As a general rule, no one is supposed to work on family and friends, but some rules were meant to be broken.

He couldn’t leave that OR if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to. There was no way in hell he could sit idly by when he could help.

He left the questions to his mother and Max. They could sort out the stories on their end, and he could do everything in his power to make sure his friend came out of it on the other side on his end.

He hadn’t slept in two days. He hadn’t left the hospital. He barely left her room at all.

He couldn’t lose anyone else. He got a second chance with Rosa, but second chances were anomalies, not the norm.

He rubbed his temples, closed his eyes and sighed.

“Y-you,” Maria croaked before clearing her throat with no success. “You look like shit, Valenti.”

She coughed and laughed at the same time before her body alerted her that both were a terrible idea. “Oww!” She groaned.

He was at her bedside in two long strides. His body relaxed for the first time in days as he poured her a cup of water and smiled fondly with utter relief as she drank it greedily.

“Take it easy,” he cooed, as he stroked her hair.

“I’m assuming I have a couple of cracked ribs?” She asked, her voice raspy.

“You would assume correctly.” He looked down on her and smiled. “I want to tell you that you look like shit too, but it would be a lie.”

“Flattery … will get you … everywhere,” she rasped as she tried to get comfortable. “Although …”

He scanned the machines and checked her vitals, and signaled the nurse that she was awake.

“Although, what?”

“Although, I briefly remember you on top of me, and…” she ran her fingers across the bandage on her chest. “You lucky bastard, you already saw me naked,” she joked.

“Ah. But the circumstances weren’t like I imagined. It would require a do-over.” He moved out of the way for the nurse to check out Maria.

After what seemed to be an eternity she left urging him to let Maria rest and get some himself.

“You imagined me?” It was like Maria to pick up where they left off.

He felt his face heat up.

“You scared the crap out of us, Maria,” he plopped on the bed and grabbed her hand.

“Nice swerve, Kyle, but I’ll allow it,” she squeezed his hand back. “Where is everyone?”

Her voice was small, and he wondered if she had an irrational fear that no one else showed up for her.

“I texted them that you were awake,” he replied running his fingers feather-light against the pulse in her wrist.

“Visiting hours are over, but almost everyone has been here,” he fretted over her. He knew he was doing it, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Almost everyone?” She looked wary. He could tell she already had her suspicions before he could confirm.

“Michael was thrown out two days ago,” he couldn’t hide his annoyance mentioning the most volatile of their pod squad acquaintances.

“He was too … aggressive. Others were complaining. He couldn’t be reined in. He really cares about you, you know?”

“I know,” she shook her head.

“And Rosa wasn’t happy that she couldn’t come,” he flashed back to how volatile his half-sister was. Max’s apartment was probably a wreck.

“Which one of them slugged you?” Maria ran her bandaged hand with the IV across his jawline.

“Rosa has a mean right hook,” he admitted not hiding how impressed he was by that.

“She always did,” Maria agreed. “How’s that going?”

“Still adjusting, I guess.”

“To know you is to love you, Kyle. She’ll come around,” she squeezed her eyes shut tight and exhaled slowly.

“Are you in pain? I can get you some more–”

“I’m fine, Kyle. I don’t need anything. I’m probably going to wish that alien bastard had finished the job when I get the medical bills though,” she blinked back tears and forced herself to smile.

“Maria –”

“Go figure, I got probed and in none of the fun ways. Stabbed in the chest by glowing alien paraphernalia and left to die in a cave is not how I expected to go. I’m guessing Max still can’t tap into his healing powers?”

He wanted to say so much – comfort her better, but he settled for going along with her topic change. “No, Max is still blocked. But Michael tried to heal you,” he met her eyes and shrugged.

“But Michael can’t heal…” her confusion was almost endearing to him.

“Didn’t stop him from trying,” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He was still fretting and busying himself. “You had a close one. We thought we lost you twice, and none of us can bear losing anyone.

He was tired, and doctor mode bled into friend mode. He didn’t realize he was pulling back her gown and checking her bandage.

Her surgical wounds would heal nicely, if he said so himself. He secured the bandage tight, poked and prodded until he was satisfied.

At her cough he yanked out his stethoscope and listened, nodding to himself after confirming her breathing was fine.

He flashed a light in her eyes, studied her pupils and ignored her scrutiny.

He knew he looked like hell, bloodshot eyes, and dark circles around them. He hadn’t shaved in days, his dark stubble uncharacteristic. His hair was matted except for the tufts he mussed from constantly running his fingers through his hair.

“When’s the last time you slept, Kyle?” She asked innocently enough.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Remember? I do this for a living.”

She raised her brow but dropped it. “What’s my prognosis, doc?”

“You look good,” he replied, his voice soft and worn even to his own ears. “You had a concussion, but we kept an eye on it. Your surgical incision looks good. You’ll barely have a scar.”

“Scars mean you lived – they mean you survived,” she replied.

“Yeah,” he rubbed his thumb across her hairline. “Yeah, they do. Vital organs were missed, so that’s –”

“When do I get out of here, Kyle?”

Leave it to Maria to get to the bottom line. It killed him that even then, her concern was financing. They probably didn’t require exceptional healthcare on whatever planet the others derived from.

“If you promise to take off and settle in at home, preferably somewhere with room and a simple floor plan, then I’ll get you out.”

Max’s spacious home came to mind, but there was also the cabin or even his apartment.

“But you need to rest, Maria.”

“Pot meet kettle, Kyle. Pot meet kettle.” She shuffled in the bed and winced and gasped in pain.

His jaw clenched as he bit back a sharp reprimand. She patted a spot on the bed beside her and raised her brow.

“Maria,” he started, too tired to argue with her but gearing up for one anyway.

“Don’t,” she glared at him. “Just for a little bit, please.”

She didn’t want to be alone. He understood that.

“Just for a little while,” he ignored her triumphant smirk. She acted as if she didn’t have a knack for making people bend to her will.

He slid beside her. The hospital bed was more comfortable than he cared to admit. He checked her vitals again, slid his arm beneath her, and gingerly pulled her into his chest.

It was a small enough bed where snuggling was the only option. She didn’t seem to mind. She burrowed herself into him.

He tucked the covers around her and double-checked to make sure her water pitcher was full. When she thought she hid a grimace, he upped her morphine drip.

He felt her soft laugh reverberate through him and how she shook her head infinitesimally.

“What?” He yawned. “Do I even want to know?”

“Always fretting,” she patted his hand gently. “You’re always taking care of everyone, but who takes care of you?”

He wanted to laugh. Instead, he rested his head on hers. He allowed her warmth and the sound of the heart monitor to lull him into a sleepy daze.

His eyelids were heavy, his voice husky with exhaustion as his lips barely grazed the shell of her ear.

“You, Maria.” He could tell he caught her by surprise. Her breath hitched, and admittedly, it made him smile.

 "It’s always you,“ he whispered as he finally drifted off to sleep.

—-

[fmdhanjae]

    ⟨ ›   SELF-PARA    ‹ ⟩  ╾  his sisters birthday  ‹745w›

       hanjae calls home to his sister to celebrate her turning twenty years old and even though he isn’t in a celebratory mood, he tries ⟨ cw for themes of mourning, mentions of death, some alcohol consumption ⟩

☎  “hey, mimi.”

“oppa,” miran sounds happy. he’s glad. “i missed you!” there’s loud music and commotion layered behind her voice. hanjae settles into his couch and chugs down some soju and smiles at her voice. 

“are you busy?”

“wha-? oh no! of course not!” she rapidly says, like she’s worried she’ll lose him, “hold on oppa it’s too loud in here. give me a second.” he doesn’t respond out loud but he lays deeper into his soft cushions and listens; the sound passes into nothing and she’s engulfed in silence. “oppa!” she calls again, starting this whole thing over.

this time he humors her, chirps right back, “miran.” less cutely but with no less casual love.

“you didn’t call this week yet,” she pouts.

“it’s been a long, long week,” he drinks more, perhaps out of guilt, without realizing it. “but don’t think i wouldn’t call today of all days ━ are you having a party? you should busy.”

“yeah there’s friends here and stuff! it’s no big deal, those dorks are just playing DDR anyway! what’s up oppa!” he can hear her smiles.

“good. happy birthday, mimi,” he tells her now that he has he full attention.

he and his sister had a long and unsettled childhood. first in moving to daegu with their mother after her last relationship in london failed. they had managed to make the best of it, young enough to adapt well and move on. his sister doesn’t even remember london, just daegu. she only moved to seoul when she began university, daegu was her whole life. it’s funny how that worked; that his daegu dialect was a rare hit or miss, only some syllables that made themselves particularly known, especially when drunk. yet now as she speaks, every word sounds so excitable, with that daegu flow, a permanent dialect that made her her. 

he left fairly early in her life. their grandparents had taken care of her while he went off to seoul to become a trainee. he missed a lot of her later teenage years. now, a fashion student, she was doing her best all on her own, her own person and striking out on her own. losing their mother had been hard on them both. if he’s honest, he doesn’t know how well she handled it. when they talked about it, she tended to duck the conversation or just ended up listening. but he knows it brought them together.

“thank you, oppa. i wish you could be here with me,” she sounds wistful but not sad and for that he’s grateful. “i’m happy you’re doing alright and that you called.”

he takes a drink, “i’m doin’ alright,” he sets the empty bottle on the ground nearby. “keep track of yourself. be a good girl, eh?”

“you got it.”

“i’m serious, mimi.” he jokes with her, “people think i’m the troublemaker but that’s really you between the two of us.” 

“hey i’m no where near as bad as you you should be thankful i don’t tell grandma about all those antics you tell me about. just because you’re not in dispatch for being bad doesn’t mean you’re good, ya know.” he can almost imagine the smile on her face as she points a finger at his chest and threatens to beat him up by any means necessary.

“shut up.” he slurs a little, “birthday girls shouldn’t be violent ━ then you don’t get presents because you’re being bad.”

“that’s christmas, you dunce.” she laughs out loud and it makes him laugh back.

“fine. then i’ll just send back the present that’s on its way to you. i’ll have the delivery man take it back.”

her gasp is cute. “you’re annoying,” she threatens, “you don’t mean that ━ what did you get me?!”

“that’s a surprise. just call when you get it, alright?”

a big sigh. “fine...”

“don’t sound so happy about it.” he smirks, “it’s coming.” he reassures, patiently and even sounding drunk doesn’t ruin it. “sorry it wasn’t here sooner. oppa loves you.”

“i love you too, oppa.” she instantly replies and then backtracks to reply and he thinks it’s adorable and very miran of her. “alright, i’ll wait patiently. belated birthday gift, i guess.” she strains the syllable.

“hey. the real gift for your birthday is me calling you like this.”

“sure it is, oppa.” 

“you’re a total brat ━ best brat in the world.”

“best oppa in the world.” he wishes that were the case.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

One PM Pajamas

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Final Fantasy XV/Prompto Argentum

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: Nothing. Just a cute scene in my head.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) Hopefully this reads as cute as it was when I imagined it.

^^^^^

When my doorbell rang at one in the afternoon, I really should have been prepared to answer it.

But was I?

Nope.

I was eating a Cup Noodle for lunch in my pajamas without pants on—just in my giant T-shirt and underwear. My hair had been brushed but that was it.

I crept to the door and peered through the peephole.

Confused, I opened the door just enough to peek around it, letting it get caught on the chain. “Prompto! What are you doing here?” I asked.

He beamed at me. “I need your advice,” he said.

“You sure that’s a good idea? Last time you took my advice you dislocated your shoulder.”

“I trust no one else with this question.” The seriousness behind the playful look he gave me convinced me. I shut the door, slid the chain to release it, and opened it again. I let it swing wide to let him in, pulling my shirt down to more securely cover my modesty.

“Well, if you’d called first, I could have looked like a normal person when you showed up. Let me put some pants on. Make yourself at home. Grab a snack and a drink if you want. Be right back.”

I headed down the hallway to my bedroom, still making sure my T-shirt was pulled down.

“Hey how come you’re in your jammies at one in the afternoon?” Prompto called jokingly.

“Buzz off!” I shouted, shutting my bedroom door to change. “Mimi and I stayed up till like three-AM watching makeup tutorials and trying to replicate them!” I shucked off my pajamas and pulled on a normal person outfit. Nothing fancy—it was Prompto. He’d known me since we were kids.

“Where is your roommate anyway? She gonna walk in on our secret discussion?”

“Decidedly not. She’s at work all day,” I said. “Hence why I'm eating a Cup Noodle in my pajamas at one in the afternoon.” I went back into the living room. Prompto was sprawled on the sofa, holding a bag of chips.

“What in Eos, gurl!” he teased, throwing a pillow at me. “You said you were putting on pants not a formal outfit!”

“Sweats and a T-shirt that’s actually in my size is not a formal outfit, Argentum,” I snapped, grabbing my Cup Noodle from the breakfast bar and plopping down on the sofa next to him. “Now what’s up?”

“I need your advice.”

“So you said. Carry on.”

“Okay. So. There’s this girl—”

“Ooooh! A girl! Prompto Argentum has finally succumbed to the endless stream of romcoms in his Chocoflix queue and fallen in love himself!”

“Shut up,” he muttered. His ears and cheeks were turning bright red.

I laughed and gave him a hug. “C’mon, Prom. You know I love and support you in all your endeavors. And that includes dating. I'm just surprised you’ve finally fallen for someone.” I crossed my legs and put some noodles in my mouth. “Now. What about this girl? What do you like about her? What do you want from your interactions with her? Are you going to ask her out?”

“Uh… she’s smart, funny, nice. Seems to actually care about me—which is, y’know, awesome. I don’t know. I’ve known her for a while and I just… well. I realized the other day that I was head-over-heels for her with no idea what to do about it.”

“So you came to me.”

“Well I would trust no one else with this information.” He gave me a mock-serious glance.

I laughed. “Okay. So do you want to ask her out?”

“Yeah… but I'm nervous that if I do, it’ll destroy our friendship. And I value our friendship a lot.”

I pursed my lips, jovial mood souring slightly. “That does put a damper on things. It’s a hard tightrope to walk, I’ll admit. Because feelings change things and knowing about someone’s feelings changes things. Like, if you liked her and kept it secret, you could just go on being friends and she’d never be any the wiser if you played it right. But if you told her how you really feel… well. There’s always the chance of rejection and then the awkwardness that comes after. Because you want to try to still be friends but she knows you want to be more.”

“So what do I do?”

“Honestly, Prompto, that’s up to you. I can’t make that decision for you. I feel like if you really like her and she seems favorable to the idea, you could ask her on a low-key, friendly sort of date. Which seems counterintuitive, I know. But, like, ask her if she’s seen that new movie and if she’d like to go see it with you. Or offer to grab lunch with her sometime to chat. If she agrees, you can try stepping it up. I don’t know, Prompto. I'm Miss Forever Single, remember?”

“Well… just tell me what you would want if some guy you’ve been friends with for a while suddenly asked you out.”

“Depends. Is he a creep that I’ve known for a while?”

Prompto sighed. “I hope not. Okay. Imagine it was me. You and I have been friends for… how long now? Twelve years? Since we were kids. What if I asked you out. Would you say yes?”

“Of course I’d say yes. It’s you. You’re like… the greatest, sweetest guy in all of Lucis.” I smiled and flipped some hair off my shoulder. “Any girl—actually, any person—would be lucky to snatch you up. Like, you are a catch, Prompto. And if this girl doesn’t see it… that’s her loss. Truly. You don’t have to start big, Prom. Just be casual. And be yourself. You’re awesome.”

Prompto regarded me thoughtfully, munching on some chips while I had another mouthful of noodles. “Thanks. I guess you’re right. Casual sounds really nice, actually. Like… less pressure, y’know?”

I smiled. “Oh yeah. And really, girls don’t always like fancy dates. Getting ready is a hassle and sometimes it’s awkward. I love chill dates. Like that blind date I went on a couple weeks ago. We literally went to the arcade in jeans and sneakers and stuff and played games. It was great. He smoked me at Skee-Ball but I beat him at Crossy Road. Like, that’s where the real fun and enjoyment is. To me anyway. Your crush might like being splurged on and pampered but ugh why.”

That made Prompto laugh. “No… I think she wouldn’t mind a casual date.”

“So go for it. We don’t get a lot of time on this planet. Sometimes we just have to shout YOLO while diving headfirst into the deep end.”

Prompto knew how much I hated the term YOLO for being annoying, but it got my point across and made him smile. He had such a bright smile. It always managed to make me happy just by seeing it. Which was probably why I had so many framed photos of the two of us in my room—though that was also because I got one every year on my birthday from him.

“You’re right. I think I will ask her out on a casual date.”

“Do it. And tell me how it goes!”

“Yeah. Yeah I will,” he said. He gave me a hug. “You’re the best dating coach in the world.”

“For being perpetually single?”

“Well, coaches don’t play the sport.”

I laughed. Prompto let me go and put the chips he got out of my cupboard away.

“I'm gonna call her on my walk home.”

“Tell me how it goes. Text me when you get home so I know you got home safe, ‘kay?”

“You got it, gurl!”

I ruffled his hair. He groaned and swatted at me like I was an irritating fly before heading for the door. We exchanged another hug and he left. I disposed of my Cup Noodles and went into my room so I could get some work done for Ignis before he started breathing down my neck. Mimi and I had a small study where we literally just stored books and the fancy desk my dad had given me when I moved out. I only used it when I was feeling really productive. I sat at the desk with my laptop and set to work.

I wasn’t sure how long I was typing up reports and council notes that Ignis had handwritten—thank the Six his handwriting was as neat as a computer font and perfectly legible no matter how fast he was writing—but I could feel the passage of at least a few minutes in a slight ache in my shoulder.

Out in the living room, my phone buzzed.

I sighed. “What now?” I muttered.

I got up and ran to get it.

Incoming Call: Prompto XD

“Hello?”

“Hey! Would you want to come catch a movie with me sometime? It doesn’t have to be anything formal.”

“Oh my word. Were you talking about me?!” I demanded.

All I got in response was laughter.

“Prompto Argentum! I cannot believe you asked me for advice on how to ask me out. I hate you so much that I love you right now. Of course I’ll catch a movie with you sometime. If I can get this stupid report of Ignis’ done, I’ll be free tonight.”

“That’s great! I’ll come pick you up at five-thirty?”

I laughed. “Absolutely. I’ll be ready.”

[acuppellarp]

♬ Full Name: Louisa Cristina “Lola” Alvarez ♪  FC: Lauren Jauregui ♫ Alternate FCs: ♪ Age/Birthday: 25 / March 23, 1994 ♫ Occupation: Model/make-up artist/burlesque dancer/photographer ♪ Hometown: Brooklyn, NY ♫ Personality: enigmatic, magnetic, confident, lonely, passionate 

Louisa doesn’t talk about her birth parents, simply because there’s nothing to talk about. Her father, she can assume, was never really in the picture, and her mother left her on the stoop of a fire department in the 99th precinct of New York City, so it’s not as if she cared. Louisa rarely thinks about her birth parents, if at all. The truth was, Consuelo Migdas was sixteen when she gave birth to Louisa, and wasn’t ready to have a family. She had hoped that by putting her daughter up for adoption, she’d be put into a good home.

It took twelve years for Louisa to be adopted. Twelve years for the world to show Louisa its cold nature. By the time she turned ten, Louisa had been carted to four different foster homes. Every time it looked like there was a promise of someone wanting to take her home, she ended up being returned like a blouse that didn’t fit quite right. Louisa quickly began losing hope that anybody would keep her for good. She’d be stuck in the foster system until she was eighteen years old, and then she’d become a ward of the state. She’d have to fend for herself in the extremely cruel city of New York.

If you asked her now, she’d tell you that it could have been much worse, but that’s very much in line with Louisa’s character. She’s not dramatic in that way. She’ll downplay anything to make you think she hasn’t suffered, she’s perfectly fine. But truthfully? Not having the unconditional love of a family had more of an impact on her than she’d ever care to admit. Louisa was awful in school– on the days she came in and wasn’t starving, she found that it was tough for her to concentrate. Numbers and words didn’t make sense. Once, as a Christmas gift, she was given a book from one of her teachers: Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. Louisa loved that they had the same name, and she loved the idea of growing up with four sisters who loved her and a mother who would do anything for her. All she wanted was a stable, consistent life.

Louisa found that she loved art from the very beginning, and would lose herself in drawings. She loved to play dress up.  She liked to take things, too. It started small, like a pack of gum or a candy bar. Nobody was any the wiser, and Louisa would never steal from the same place twice. She would steal art supplies from her school and only got caught once. Crying, she explained to her teacher that she only wanted to be able to draw at home. Three days later, she was gifted a beautiful set of over a hundred colored pencils. Every hue and shade Louisa could possibly imagine was in that set. She saved the nubs of those pencils and strung them together to make a necklace. It serves as a reminder for her– how far she’s come, and how much farther she has to go.

Things changed rapidly for the better when Mimi adopted her. At least, that’s how she introduced herself to Louisa: “I’m going to be your Mimi and we’re going to be very happy together.” It took Louisa a solid three months to believe her. If she could last longer than three months, that would be all. But Mimi showed her a home that was full of love, and a place where she was accepted. She had dinner every night, she had a quiet, cozy place to read her favorite book, and Mimi made sure she did all of her homework instead of roaming the streets.

It was when she was thirteen that she started going by Lola, if only because that’s what Mimi called her. When she asked why, Mimi would start singing the song from Damn Yankees– whatever Lola wants, Lola gets. And honestly, Lola wasn’t used to being spoiled. She wasn’t used to someone loving her. She wasn’t used to a real home.

When she applied to FIT, she put the design on the side and instead chose to focus on the modeling aspect. She got her degree, fine, but found herself loving the idea of being someone’s muse. Someone’s obsession. Someone’s love. Lola began to become heavily involved in making her own clothing, with the sewing machine that had been passed down from Mimi’s dressmaking mother right into Lola’s greedy little hands. It cost them a fortune to send her to college, but Mimi swore Lola was going to be on the cover every fashion magazine someday. Lola assured Mimi that she was too short, and focused on building a following via social media, something that she keeps up with today.

Lola’s life couldn’t be without one more tragedy, though. Mimi was cleaning the floor of their apartment in Brooklyn when she slipped on a puddle and hit her head. The injury resulted in dementia-like symptoms, not uncommon in Mimi’s age. After calling emergency services, Lola was told that there was nothing more that the doctors could do. Mimi was transferred to a care facility in Queens, and Lola visits her as faithfully as she can. Mimi is lucid sometimes, but often has no idea who Lola is other than the nice girl who visits her and sketches her.

Mimi’s current state has broken Lola’s heart. She’s picked up a few random jobs trying to make some extra cash– including dancing at a burlesque club (she insists it’s for the glamor of it all, but it’s mostly because she likes the attention), modeling for a series of painting classes (again, Lola likes attention), and working as a make-up artist. All the money she makes goes to pay for Mimi’s care, and to keep her room full of fresh flowers. Lola feels lost, understandably so, which is why she’s been so happy to join April’s Growers. It’s given her a new sense of purpose, even if sometimes she’s still kind of sad. Lola is doing the best that she can to juggle her odd jobs, her newfound roommates, her beloved mother, and pursuing what she loves.

Pets:  Lola recently rescued a French bulldog puppy named Donatella, who she loves more than life itself.

♬ Santana Lopez

All things considered, they should be rivals– they’re both Latinas who can sing, they’re both drop dead gorgeous, and they usually go for the same modeling gigs– but Lola and Santana have somehow managed to become friends. It also doesn’t hurt that they’re now prone to admire each other’s beauty as often as they can in someone’s bedroom.

♪  Reggie Cliffton

Ah, how does Lola even begin to describe Reggie Clifton? They met at a rally in the city more than a year ago, which is only too fitting for the both of them.  Lola fell for Reggie and she fell very hard. They flirted, they messed around a lot, and when they admitted that they had feelings for each other, it was peppered with the worst thing Lola’s ever heard: I like you, but I don’t want to be in a relationship with you. Reggie, apparently, wasn’t ready, and Lola took her broken heart all the way back to Brooklyn and away from Acup. She’s come back around, though, and Lola is wasting no time in showing Reggie what she passed up.

♫ X Scott

X and Lola have a really beautiful relationship, based on a mutual love of art. Lola has become something of a muse to X, and she’s always willing to pose for a photo or painting. They’re very much kindred spirits and Lola would go to the ends of the earth for X.

♪ Nicola de Rocha and Kitty Wilde

Her roommates, but also her best friends. She’s only moved in with them recently, after Mimi’s accident. Her Brooklyn home got to be too quiet, and Lola loves their chatter. Lola thinks of them as three larger-than-life personalities who could gossip until the sun comes up. She’s not so subtly hinting to Kitty that she wants to shoot at Vogue, and always dropping her wishlist to Nicola. She loves her roommates and would do anything for them.

[lovehatinganime]

Koumi/Mishiro headcanons

This is how I imagine the process that lead Koushiro and Mimi to start dating, trying to make it as close to canon as I can. Some, seeing how long and detailed this post is, will wonder why didn't I make a proper fic out of it. Well, let`s just say I'm lazy.

First of all, Mimi and Izzy are the same age thus, they have known each other for quite a long time... 

Childhood

I imagine them being in the same grade but different classes. 

I am assuming boys didn't  leave poor Mimi alone even back then.  

In some cases it was the classic `when you like a girl, being a dick and getting on her nerves will get her attention´ (which is hella toxic by the way. I never understood the logic behind this mentality. Nevertheless, it is, indeed, something that happens at a young age).

Others did it just because they didn't like her super girly personality and had a great time playing pranks on her. Maybe they tried to scare her off, hiding bugs in her suitcase or idk, that kind of stuff (is funny how I always think of kids as super awful and annoying little shits).

The thing is, Izzy was an exception because he was always in his own world and couldn`t be bothered by all those childish games. She found him very interesting (Mimi is the most individualist digidestined and it makes sense for her to enjoy people who are out of the norm).Someone not paying attention to her was something completely new for Tachikawa. At first, she used to really like it. 

She could just approach Koushiro to have some peace and quiet when she needed it, which wasn't often. Mimi is an extrovert and can totally handle people. However, if someone was just too mean, she did need some space to go and just cry her eyes out. That is when she always went to the room where Izzy used to expend recess on his own. 

Even if Koushiro didn't react (sometimes he wouldn't even notice her) little Mimi thought it was better than being completely alone.That`s why she started defending him when others said he was a weirdo for always carrying his computer everywhere. 

Eventually, it reached a point where Mimi felt she was going after him all the time, trying to get his attention and miserably failing. 

Insert the digimon adventure timeline here, where she gets mad at Izzy for ignoring her.

Of course, the experience in the digiworld makes their bond stronger, as it happens with all the others. However, I believe that, when they finally got back to the real world, Mimi and Izzy parted ways soon after the summer. I mean, in Digimon Adventure she is shown to have her own group of friends. Koushiro would not fit in there and probably kid Mimi wouldn't even try to drag him in.

They used to greet each other and talk a bit more than they did before, but that is all.

Teenage years (while Mimi is in the U.S.A.)

At some point, Mimi went through a really bad phase and felt so lonely over there. She tried to get in touch with her primary school friends but most never answered back, so she decided to try with the digidestined.

Tk and Kari weren't an option as they are younger, probably they wouldn't t even have a phone or own computer at the time.

She didn't rely on Matt neither because, honestly, they are the ones who have less direct one on one interactions and I plainly don't see him over the phone, comforting someone miles away (at least not her. They are so different. Maybe Yamato, who is so perceptive, would indeed notice Mimi is not all right. However, I definitely don't believe he would be able to make her feel better).

Her choice was to contact the three she was more close to, which are Jyou, Taichi and Sora.

Jo-senpai, as she likes to call him; answered every text but had very little time to keep up with the conversation, so Mimi stopped regularly writing him because she didn`t want to be a bother. They would make brief calls in specific ocasions such as New Year, birthdays or to inform the other when they achieved something important.

Tai and her started communicating quite a lot after her initiative. It was in a really random way, tho. Mostly because he is a mess and falls sleep in the middle of a conversation or doesn`t answer messages in ages. It is nice when they do talk, however, he is so clueless and provides 0 help when Mimi is sad or needs some kind of advice. 

Enter Sora Takenouchi. She nails it. Mimi and her are best friends in the distance. 

One day, while Mimi and any of the aforementioned are chatting, Koushiro`s name appeares in the conversation and for the first time in forever, she remembers about him. 

The inflexion point

As a consequence, Miimi decided to write him (I am not sure if this would be in an impulse or after some time of deliberation). Surprisingly, this ended up being a great idea. Izzy was less shy with a screen in between. He becomes the one she keeps more in touch with (besides Sora), their most common contact via being the e-mail. 

When she visits...

They spend a considerable amount of time together. 

They learn to be very comfortable in each other`s company. 

Their friendship is strange yet strong. 

Basically what is portrayed in the movies.

When Mimi comes back for good (late adolescence) 

Inflexion point number two

Izzy discovers her attraction and feelings for Mimi. 

He clearly doesn't believe she likes him back, so he is stuck in between trying to impress her (example: dressing better) and repressing his crush.

He is afraid of rejection and the chance of blowing everything (they share friends, is a bad place for things to get twisted)

As a result, he becomes super anxious when she gets close to him (similar to what we see in the tri ovas) and avoids meeting her alone. 

Mimi notices his strange behaviour, tries to directly address it, gets nowhere because Izzy runs away.

She starts asking around, but nobody wants to be the one to spill the super obvious truth.  

The Tachikawa girl becomes suspicious and suddenly, one random afternoon hanging at the Yagami/Kamiya`s she just says:

“... I believe Izzy likes me”

Tai (the only one oblivious enough not to know) gets super excited: that`s my boy, let`s make this happen! 

But Hikari is all: I don`t think that´s true.  

Here the princess gets slightly offended and is determined to prove the younger girl wrong. 

That is how the two trouble master minds (Taichi and herself) create a plan to prove the `Kou is head over heels for Mimi´ theory. 

The Ishida-Takaishi brothers have oppossite opinions (they were also chilling at the household when all this went down).

Yamato believes nothing good is going to come out from it. Still, does not intervene. “This will keep those two busy and prevent them from doing anything against me”.

Meanwhile Takeru remains silent cause he swore Izzy not to tell. He actually likes the idea and thinks of it as good news because Koushiro will finally get what he wants. 

Nobody tells neither Jyou or Sora because they would sure stop all the fun, I mean, nonsense.

All the digidestined have a party, alcohol included (let`s be real) and somehow Tai corners Koushiro into some kind of truth or dare in which he has to confess his feelings for Mimi or kiss her or whatever. It works but...

Mimi looks at Hikari and reacts proudly, shouting: I told you he had a crush on me!

Izzy interprets it as this being all a game for Mimi. He believes she is using him, feels ultra humiliated and leaves the party. 

She follows and they talk things through. 

Mimi confesses, something in the lines of “you have been my favourite since 4th grade” and kisses him right away.

They give the thing a try and it all flows slowly but smoothly.  

As far as I'm concerned, that is how they start dating and have a healthy monogamous relationship (because Koushiro clearly could not handle the social effort of having more than one love interest at a time).

Random notes: I'm actually a multi-shipper and is not like Koumi/Mishiro is my endgame, but I must say it has always been my favourite hetero ship for both of them. I wanted to include Takeru as the wingman because is one of the best shits Tri has given us. Sadly, it didn't quite fit the rest. Taichi takes his place cause we all know he is the second wingman in command. 

 Feel free to ask for more stuff like this if you like it!

[parvummalum07]

Inky paths of life 01

First post on Tumblr. Well. I am not a native English speaker so I Really don’t know whether or not I should use simple present tense when my characters are thinking...So, sorry if my shit grammar and very limited vocabulary bother you.

Soulmate AU; John POV; most likely bad ending and major character death. I hope I would actually finish this one hahahaha...

I don’t own these people; they own me, in some way or another. God bless the Beatles.

Nothing is real and nothing is to hung about.

He knew they would come in one way or another; suddenly or slowly, sometimes just under one’s eyes. So it didn’t surprise him that his word chose to came in the most unattractive and mediocre way: it appeared in his dream, without him noticing. And it also didn’t surprise him that it chose to appear across his waist, the position most people have their words. Mediocre, indeed; even its context was rather boring, because there was only one word instead of a sentence that people usually have and really, what kind of boring lover would make the last word she would say to him Johnny? Wouldn’t that unknown person choose to leave a more charming, more romantic remark on her own death?

 Wouldn’t his lover be different than those idiots who would actually call the names of their soulmates when they die?

 Yes, the fucking fate whispered in his ears, I did chose such an unpleasant soulmate for you, because why not? He brushed these dark thoughts away with a sneering bark, but in the dead of night, when he finally got rid of Mimi’s endless remarks on that ‘special person’, and had to face the darkness alone, such thoughts crept up to his spine, leaving an icy trace between his shoulder blades. You are just an ordinary human being, this disembodied voice said to him, just a boy that nobody loves. Your dad left you, your mom left you, no one at school likes you, you are the troublemaker and the stupid one, failing your courses all the time. So why an interesting soulmate?

 And deep down inside, he agreed. Maybe John Lennon doesn’t deserve a unique soulmate, and that’s OK. But still, a part of himself thought of his word as a……sign? Maybe a prophecy? Deep down there was a kind of hope shining like twilight: at least, for now, he surely has a soulmate……he had heard about illnesses—and sometimes, the lack of love—which would deprive a person from having a mark at the age of 15; at least he didn’t belong to them. Maybe, just maybe, there was a soulmate—probably a good-looking one—must be a good-looking one, come on! –right there, waiting for John, and she would love him no matter what.

 Maybe.

   The first time he felt like meeting a soulmate, he realized later on, was the time he met Paul. Of course he didn’t know how it feels, but that was the closest ever feeling compared to his imagination. The earth would not stop turning, there wouldn’t be blinding light flashing everywhere……but there was definitely something going on. Sparks flying. The first time he ever saw that Elvis-looking boy walking into that church, he thought: holy shit.

 Not a decent thing to say in a church, he knew, but still. The scene was shocking.

 Technically speaking it wasn’t the first time he met Paul because he had seen him, had met him on the bus for several times, had saw him waving to the girls alongside the window, smiling as if surprised and embarrassed by the admiration from the other gender. He regarded this gesture as phony, for what kind of girls wouldn’t fall for his looks, with those cherubic cheeks and doe eyes? He knew some guys who would howl at these pair of eyebrows as well; sex appeals, it seems, are not so mutually exclusive. Later on he would alter this belief, admitting that yes, that little Elvis really didn’t expect such attraction, but at that time the stranger on the bus seemed to be the exact kind of people he would normally hate at first sight.

 Except that he wasn’t. That warm voice of his certainly mastered Twenty flight rock well, but the real surprise fell when Elvis and Little Richard came ringing in the hall. John was immediately attracted by that person, and all of a sudden, the world was making a lot more senses to him. It was truly breathtaking.

 “What was your name again?” he asked after the show-off, trying hard to bury his excitement under a cool mask, and that boy smiled triumphantly.

 “Paul,” he responded, his fingertips sliding down the white keys elegantly, “Paul McCartney.”

   Paul, as far as he knew, was the only one who didn’t show around his own words. This wasn’t usually what a Scouse teenager do within the age hierarchy, for you simply highlight your authority to people younger than you by showing off your words. At first he thought that was because his marks were buried deep in his clothes, on a position where only intimate families could see, but later on, when being asked by a mutual friend of theirs, he laughed and explained.

 “I just don’t do it,” he said lightly to Ivan, after a quite successful gig, when everyone around them were drinking and laughing heavily, “not because it is hard to show or something—God bless those who have their word on their butt—but because I simply don’t want to.”

 “How come?” Pete yelled from afar, his booming voice echoing in the unbearable din. Everyone in the pub began yelling to each other, and John was suddenly very, very angry for the fact that the music was on, so fucking loud that if Paul chose this moment to give Ivan a private answer, he wouldn’t be able to know what he had spoken. But Paul simply smiled; he shook his head fondly and leaned on the bar counter, flying John a glance as he shouted out his order to a rather pissed-looking barman.

 “Weird, isn’t he?” Ivan commented, and he hummed his agreement absent-mindedly, watching the dark-haired boy leaning closer to the bar, a flash of sweaty pale skin appearing under his shirt. His mouth suddenly turned very, very dry.

   They didn’t touch upon this topic until much later, when John was sobbing uncontrollably in Paul’s arms, his attempts at speaking failing pathetically because of erupting hiccups and gasps. The pain of losing Julia was suddenly too intense to endure, he didn’t want that part of himself unveiled in front of Paul, but Paul stuck to him, faced his ferocious burst of anger without a blink of his eye, and finally, finally, John allowed himself to collapse under the embrace of the younger boy, his body limp yet for the first time in days relieved. Paul didn’t mutter a single word, just held a death grip on the back of John’s open shirt, and strangely, that was just what John needed at the moment.

 Finally, after burying his nose in Paul’s neck for a long time—he could smell a faint odor of lavender from Paul’s skin, mixed up with sweat and a fresh scent he couldn’t tell, a scent so uniquely Paul’s—he could finally utter a full sentence without sounding teary.

 “How did you survive all that, Macca?” he whispered, “how did you……get used to…losing…her?”

 Paul inhaled deeply. He inhaled so deeply that John could feel his heart beating within his ribcage, under their closely pressed-together skin. “I didn’t,” after a long pause, he said, his beautiful eyes blank, “I couldn’t. You simply bleed and carry on, that’s all.”

 John breathed. In, out, in, out. So simple, yet so hard. Life is fragile, he suddenly realized, for he would be dead so easily if he simply stops doing this.

 “You don’t admire my dad, I know,” Paul whispered, his sound cracking a little at the end of each word, “but I truly respect him……for he could still carry on. It is a miracle he even survived; I couldn’t imagine……”

 He shuddered, and John suddenly knew.

 “Your mom and dad, they are soulmates, right?”

 He couldn’t see his face but he knew somehow that Paul closed his eyes. “He said to her the words when she……passed away.”

 There was a long silence. John would swear to God that he felt warm wetness sinking into the collar of his shirt, but when Paul spoke again, there was no trace of tears in his voice.

 “That was like a kind of fraud, isn’t it?” he commented, his voice fierce and vibrating with emotion, “Knowing a person’s words and say to him or her the exact sentence before that person dies? It……I don’t know how to put it……how the fuck could someone—anyone—believe that it is the end, it is the last time they……How can they be certain? How can they choose to do so? Isn’t it arrogant to assume themselves to be soulmates? Wasn’t it something that should be decided……not by people?”

 John let go of Paul’s shirt, sat up straight, studied him quite closely. He didn’t know where his glasses were, so he couldn’t tell whether Paul cried or not; but intense sorrow and yearning were erupting from under that girlishly handsome face, appearing and disappearing like flashes of shooting star. This bare, intimate display of his most ferocious emotions didn’t contort Paul’s features, but made him—impossibly—even more beautiful; he now held a face of a pained martyr or a constrained saint, a face that suddenly made John too awed to look at.

 “So this is why you didn’t show your marks to anyone, is it?” he whispered, “do you……not expect your wife or someone to be your soulmate?”

 He would never forget Paul’s tone when he answered that question. “I do,” he said calmly, “I just don’t want them to feel obliged to be my soulmate. That would be too heartbroken for them if I die first.”

   Stu held a different opinion. In fact, Stu held too many different opinions; he and Paul were like two ends of a magnet. But somehow, John found them disturbingly alike: both were sensitive and easy to fall into melancholy, both were mature beyond their own age, both were somehow timid when facing the girls, seemingly unaware of the charm and aura they carried around themselves. Stu, however, was built in much less strong material; John would say he was hesitant, unsure about his future and ambition, whereas Paul was nothing but the opposite.

 He never knew why all these conversations about soulmates or words took place inside dark damp gross-smelling pubs, but they did. One night in Hamburg they were hanging around, simply enjoying themselves, and this topic was brought up between large gulps of beer and rude laughter, in the dance hall filled with people so engaged in having fun that they didn’t even want to think about the future. The light was blinding, flashes of colors erupting like firework across people’s faces.

 “Why did you come to Germany anyway?” Someone, maybe Ringo, asked.

 Stu chuckled. He pulled the neck of his shirt, revealing a patch of milky pale skin. A sharp line of dark words was shining under a thin layer of sweat. “German,” he claimed, when people around him hooted and whistled, “you’d believe that it’s easier to find a bird speaking German here, mates.”

 He didn’t know why he brought that up, but: “Do you know Paul never show his marks to anyone?”

 Stu stared at him, then turned to Paul, who froze beside John’s arm. “Not even to you?” he asked suspiciously, taking in this piece of information with difficulty, “How come?”

 “It doesn’t matter,” Paul retorted, suddenly putting all his guards up like a hedgehog hiding his underbelly while facing an attack, “I just……don’t.”

 Stu swallowed. A sincere shade of unease flashed across his delicate features. “But……what if there’s some accident? What if your words are someone’s last words before an accident takes place? You’ve got to know them to prevent an accident, isn’t it? Life is very short, and there’s no time for you to hesitate.”

 They both jumped when Paul suddenly slammed his bottle of beer hard on the bar counter. “That isn’t my case, is it, Stu?” he sneered, “I’m not the one with these words on his chest. Enjoy the night, lads!”

 And in a swirl, he charged out of the pub. Stu and John stared at each other, while an icy atmosphere suddenly fell heavily in their small group of friends. Someone made a joke deliberately, and soon afterward, everyone was laughing again; the eye contact between them, however, didn’t break.

 “I apologize,” John said, a nasty scent of bitterness rising in his throat, “he was—”

 “No,” Stu answered, buttoning his shirt absent-mindedly, his eyes suddenly in tears, “no, I understand.”

 His fingertips brushed across these sharply written German, which, roughly translated into English, would be: Shit, Stu, what the fuck, don’t die, don’t—

TBC

[randomwordprompts]

Intimate Friends | One Shot(?)

Characters: Amira Lector, Xavier Rose, Dakota, Sadie

Word count: Idk I didn’t count but it’s got some length

Warnings: Demons, sexual mentions, mentions of death. I can’t tell any more without giving the entire thing away so read it!

Summary: Amira gives Dakota more than he bargained for, maybe also makes an important decision? Stop listening to me drabble and read it lol

He was older than she'd thought he would be, and yet no less handsome than anyone else she’d met. Amira would soon find out that this man was over 20, in fact being 22 which put a four-year gap between him and the barely 18-year old girl. The man introduced himself as Dakota, new to Montreal but not to Canada. He was from Toronto and not surprisingly attracted to the petite beauty. They met online about a month before and she persuaded him with sweet words and promises of time well spent together and naturally, the man sought her out. He paid for a room at the Comfort Inn for the entire week he’d be there, planning to spend the majority of that enjoying the girl’s body in ways he was sure she couldn’t imagine. Amira received the details which instructed her to be waiting in room 403 and she did just that, sitting with Sadie to pass the time. The small cat padded around the bed while she ordered room service and charged it to his card, chuckling when she ordered a massage to be delivered in the morning.

“How exactly did you get him here again, Cinth?” he asked with a genuine curiosity, surprised she was excelling in her skills at such a young age. Amira smirked and laid out on the plush mattress with all the grace of a feline.

“How? I used my charmspeak, you know this.”

“Yet he hasn’t heard your voice...do you know how long it takes the average succubus to master charmspeak without actually using her voice?”

“Very long, but to be fair I’m no one’s ‘average’ anything.”

“...you’re not wrong there.”

Before Amira could respond she felt rather than heard her date coming towards the door. With that Sadie made himself hidden and the girl adjusted the burgundy teddy she wore before standing in the middle of the room, placing an innocent expression on her face. Dakota came into the room and was pleasantly surprised to find his sweet girl in a very sexy number waiting for him rather shyly. If only he knew how this night would end…

Two hours later, Dakota was wrapped in a tightness he admittedly hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages, Amira’s moans like music to his ears as he slipped in and out of her with a steady pace. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly and her legs wrapped around his waist, their bodies moving in tandem to each other as he enjoyed every inch of her body trembling in pleasure under his...or so he thought.

Amira, meanwhile, was sitting on the edge of the bed in her pajama set, enjoying a plate of food that was brought to her as she fed in two very different but important ways. Dakota was actually trapped in a beautiful illusion that the girl spoke over him, his continued arousal making his body grow weaker with each moment. Little did she know, she would soon have a visitor in her plush little room.

“Well hello there, mon petit. Don’t you look comfy…”

Amira choked slightly on her food and Sadie, who was lounging in her lap, quite literally hit the ceiling at the sudden appearance of the male. Upon seeing who it was the girl rolled her eyes for a moment before finally speaking to him.

“How the hell did you find me, X?! Literally no one knows I’m even in Montreal still, and yet here you are.”

“Besides the fact that we’re what humans would call eh...soulmates?”

“WE ARE NOT SOULMATES DAMMIT!!”

This was the time that Sadie decided to chime in, as usual, from above. “Well...you two are bonded so...bondmates?”

“Thank you! See, Sadie gets it.”

Amira took a breath so that she wouldn’t lose her concentration on her spell before standing and walking away from the towering incubus that was smirking down at her. She went out onto the balcony with a huff as she looked out at the downtown skyline in the setting sunlight. Her bondmate followed her quietly, coming up behind her and looping his arms around her shoulders as his head came to rest softly on top of hers.

“Xavier...why are you here?”

“You know why just as well as I do Mimi, even if you’re better at playing as if you don’t.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, still keeping Dakota asleep in the other room as the wall-like young man behind her huffed.

“How long are we gonna do this? Honestly, I don’t understand what about me disgusts you so damn much…”

“You don’t disgust me, X. I just don’t know how to do...this. You know as well as I do that most bondmates are unheard of these days. Besides that, it’s already hard enough being a demon in this world so you know mated demons would only scare people into a frenzy..”

Xavier leaned his head down and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck only to plant a soft kiss there before speaking once more. “How about this: we take this thing one day at a time, starting today, and see where it goes. If people get scared of us, oh fucking well. The only person I truly care about in that regard is you, mon petit. So does that sound fair?”

Amira thought for a short moment but nodded, ignoring the ball of nerves in the pit of her stomach. Just when Xavier went to speak again, the girl turned to him with a devilish glint in her eyes that he knew all too well and posed a question. “Wanna help me finish this guy in the hotel off? I’ve seen his desires, it’s on the list.”

He rolled his eyes but leaned down and kissed her nose with a soft chuckle. “Heh...only if I get to enjoy you while we feed from him, poor man that he is.”

This time it was Amira’s turn to roll her eyes. “Poor man? He preyed on and manipulated a young girl, I have no sympathy for him.”

“You’re not wrong...except he only thinks he manipulated you, tiny minx. He certainly seems to have more than enough energy to spare since he’s still alive, though…”

“Hm? Oh I’m not feeding off him now! I put him to sleep after we came out here. I’d say it’s time to wake him for the real party though, oui?”

“I can’t help but to concur, my lady. After you…”

Dakota was found the next morning looking as if he’d been starved...but two demons were off feeling full.

____________________________________________

Welp, that’s all folks! I hope you enjoyed my first posted work and stay for memes more. I also had an idea for Dakota’s funeral that I started on so...if you wanna read that let me know! Also feel free to shoot me an ask with anything but hate cause I don’t have time. I do take prompt requests!

[florencetheflowerfairy]

Home

A Mimi x Miyako fic for the wonderful @transkoushirou!

Word Count: ~1,800

Peach, you happened to ask for the wlw pairing that I have the most headcanons for. I was so excited to write about them! Some of the ideas in this story are based on scenes that my sister has written with me over the years.

This was a confidence booster for me and I hope it makes you happy!

Home

Miyako stood still in the airport terminal, staring at the screen listing incoming flights. A crowd of people bustled around her. Most of the travelers ogled her for a minute before hurrying on their way. She couldn’t blame them. Miyako was holding a bouquet of no less than 100 pink roses.

Sora had tried to help her create a flower bouquet. But all of Sora’s designs were too…simple? Tasteful? They simply weren’t enough. Tachikawa Mimi deserved the absolute best. As she thought that, Miyako bit her lip. She carefully adjusted her grip so that she could reach up with one hand to flatten her hair.

The status of Flight 0206 changed to “Landed.” Miyako gasped and nearly dropped the flowers. She held them tight and fixed her gaze on the stairs instead. After 20 minutes, passengers started to trickle down. There were American tourists, Japanese businessmen on their cellphones, college students, tired families… But no sign of the most beautiful woman in the universe.

“Koushiro!” Miyako remembered talking to her old friend after Computer Club in middle school. “Mimi is visiting home from the United States!”

“Oh, right. Mimi. I think I heard that.” Koushiro didn’t look up from typing.

“It’s been so long!”

“Mm-hm.”

“I talk to her a lot online, but it’ll be much better talking to her in person!”

“Yes, she’s very good at talking. So are you. So it’s a good match.”

Miyako’s heart skipped a beat. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes? I mean you’re both energetic, so you match each other?” He sipped his oolong tea.

“Koushiro,” Miyako spoke seriously. “I’m in love with Mimi.”

Koushiro spat out his tea. “Oh! A romantic match! Uh...congratulations!”

She sighed. “Thanks. I’m glad to finally say it out loud. But it doesn’t always make me happy. It’s torture!”

Koushiro stroked his chin. “Yes, I suppose Mimi is way out of our league.”

Miyako was crestfallen at her club president’s words. Koushiro realized that he had said the wrong thing.

“I mean, she’s way out of MY league. But you’re the cool kind of nerd!”

“Thanks,” Miyako said sarcastically.

“Are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know! I don’t want to ruin everything!”

“Right. Maybe you shouldn’t tell Mimi,” Koushiro said unhelpfully.

The door swung open. “Tell me what?”

The computer nerds gasped. There was Mimi, standing in the doorway. She wore a sequined jacket over a white dress. Her hair was curled and blonde. Miyako imagined that a spotlight was shining on her. Then Miyako panicked at sudden stage fright and ducked under the desk.

Mimi laughed. “I was summoned by the sound of my name! Were you two talking about me?”

“No,” Koushiro lied faithfully. “How—how much did you hear?”

Miyako squirmed under the desk. She pinched herself, hoping that she would wake up from this nightmare.

“I didn’t hear anything interesting or I wouldn’t be asking, you silly goose!” Mimi lilted. “You know I’m not smart enough to understand computer gibberish anyway.”

“Uhh…” Koushiro stuttered as Mimi walked forward.

Then Mimi knelt on the floor and smiled at the cowering girl. “Hi Miyako. Are you all right?” Miyako finally met Mimi’s eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry that I scared you by being so dazzling!” She offered Miyako her perfectly manicured hand.

Miyako accepted it and both girls rose to their feet. Miyako felt breathless. “Mimi, I…”

Mimi giggled and blushed. “I missed you too.”

“I…Mimi…youuuuu…”

Behind the girls, Koushiro covered his face in hands.

“MIMI WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?!” Miyako shouted. Mimi’s jaw dropped. Koushiro peeked through his fingers curiously.

“Oh Miyako…” Mimi squeezed the girl’s hand. “I would love to go out with you. But you know I’m only staying for two weeks, right? Then I’m going back home to New York.”

“I don’t care!” Miyako said.

Mimi grinned. “I like that attitude!”

“You should sit down. I can take a turn holding the flowers,” Hawkmon offered, the perfect gentleman as always.

“You’re too tiny to hold something this big,” Miyako argued. She sat down on one of the airport benches. It had been almost an hour since Mimi’s flight landed. The other travelers had already picked up their luggage. Where was Mimi?

She remembered her first kiss with Mimi. They had partnered for a mission in the Digital World. They were flying on Aquilamon through the clouds. Unlike clouds in the real world, these clouds felt solid. They were bouncy to the touch, like a rubber ball made of water. Miyako was itching to study the consistency of the strange matter.

Mimi was sitting behind her on the bird digimon, her arms around the girl’s waist, her chin resting on Miyako’s shoulder. Truthfully, it was hard for Miyako to focus on the mission with Mimi so close to her. Mimi had recently announced that she would be going to college in New York City. She threw a big “going away” party for all of her friends. Mimi had so many friends. She chatted easily with them all. But she was obviously the most emotional when she said good bye to Jyou, Sora, and Koushiro. Miyako didn’t know what to say when it was her turn…

Miyako suddenly felt Mimi’s fingers on her cheek. She blinked rapidly.

“Are you crying?” Mimi whispered.

Miyako sniffed. Mimi tilted her face towards her. Miyako realized that there were tears in Mimi’s eyes as well. Mimi smiled bashfully.

Miyako twisted herself around and grabbed Mimi’s arms. Mimi’s eyes widened. Miyako leaned closer and hesitated. “Is this okay?”

Mimi nodded. Miyako kissed her.

In all the world, there was no one as special as Mimi. So far from the real world, so high above the Digital World, Miyako had her all to herself. It wasn’t her first kiss, but nothing, nothing could ever compare to this.

Mimi suddenly squealed and pushed them both off of Aquilamon’s back. Miyako screamed and Aquilamon shouted. But they both landed pleasantly on a bouncy cloud, holding each other tight. Mimi giggled madly. Miyako grinned and ignored her digimon’s scolding voice above them. She rolled Mimi over and kissed her again.

Years later, Miyako got a phone call in the middle of the night. She groaned and reached lazily for her glasses. After she put them on, she read the name on her cell phone and perked up. She quickly answered. “Mimi? What’s up—?”

Mimi was crying.

“Mimi!”

“It’s over…”

“What? What’s over?” Miyako was scared. Why did Mimi have to live so far away?

“My television career!” She sobbed.

“Don’t say that. Your career can’t be over. You’re too young!”

“You don’t understand… I just quit my internship. Riggs said that he only hired me because I was pretty. I can’t work for that man!”

Miyako’s heart sunk. “That bastard. I’m so sorry.”

“What’s the point of staying here? People aren’t interested in my ideas. They don’t care about what I think. They only care what I look like!”

“That’s not true!”

“What do you know? You belong with smart people!” Mimi sobbed again.

“Mimi…” Miyako waited for Mimi to calm down. “Please, you can’t give up. The world is a lot bigger than Riggs. You have so many friends—you have so many people who like you—it’s not because of what you look like! People admire you because you’re confident! You can do anything! You flew halfway round the world for your dream. You inspired an army of digimon to follow you. Mimi, I would—we would all follow you anywhere!”

“But I’m not always confident…” Mimi sniffled. “I can’t be confident every day. I’m homesick all the time.”

“That’s okay!” Miyako insisted. “I get homesick just…thinking about you…But I know you’ll be okay. This isn’t the end of everything, Mimi. You’re having a rough time. It’ll get better. Think on the bright side. You’re passing all your classes. Your YouTube channel is starting to get more views! And—and most importantly, you have so many people who love you and will support you no matter what happens. Because you’re a star to all of us already!”

Mimi was quiet for a moment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Miyako cringed at how loud her voice was.

“Thank you for answering my phone call at whatever godforsaken time it is in Japan.”

“2:47 AM.”

Mimi sighed and Miyako giggled, which made Mimi giggle too.

“Good night, my love,” Mimi said.

Miyako and Hawkmon had been waiting in the airport for nearly two hours. She had set down the giant flower bouquet, and was rewatching one of Mimi’s YouTube videos. Mimi had invited Daisuke to cook ramen with her for the “season finale” of Mimi’s American Cooking Tour. It was the last video that Mimi had filmed before graduating college. Both Mimi and Daisuke were consummate entertainers. Miyako kept laughing at their jokes, even though she had seen this before.

The video ended with Ken entering Mimi’s apartment to pick up his boyfriend, and then the cooking show hosts forced him to eat the finished ramen. Ken obliged and noted that it tasted excellent. Daisuke kissed him in response. Ken shouted to turn off the camera. Mimi argued that it was the season finale and everyone loved seeing cute boys kiss! But she finally turned the camera away from the boys so that she and Palmon could do their signature sign-off. Palmon promised Mimi’s fans that they would return with more content from Japan. Mimi picked her up and spun around happily. Then the video ended.

“Customs must be giving Palmon a hard time,” Hawkmon said sadly. Miyako nodded. She suspected the same. It didn’t matter to government officials that Palmon had helped to save the world, or that thousands of more children around the world were getting digimon partners. Palmon was still dangerous in their eyes.

“What a lousy way to end their trip,” Miyako muttered. Then she shook her fist at the ceiling. “Poor Mimi! She deserves the whole world!”

“Did somebody say my name?”

Miyako gasped. She grabbed the rose bouquet off of the floor and scrambled to her feet.

Mimi seemed to float down the stairs. She wore an emerald dress, and her long pink hair flowed behind her. Even though she had just flown in a plane for fifteen hours, she had the poise and composure of a queen.

“Mimi! Your girlfriend bought you flowers!” Palmon exclaimed. Miyako blushed.

“Aah!” Mimi hurried to Miyako’s side and opened her arms for the flowers. “Thank you Miyako! You darling!” Mimi was so happy that Palmon glowed and became Togemon on the spot. The other travelers in the airport terminal gave the giant cactus a wide berth.

“Welcome back, Mimi,” Miyako said. “I love…making you happy!”

Mimi handed the bouquet to Togemon, who held it carefully in her boxing gloves. Then Mimi threw her arms around Miyako and hugged her fiercely.

“I’m home.”

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Who wants to read my discord chat thoughts?  Everyone?  yes?  ok

Rex - Today at 9:33 PM So i'm not sure any of you care to hear but its my channel so here i shallramble So i was thinking about digimon earlier Hikari's crest? A dumb crest Now i thought she was nice, she power boosted everyone etcetera but like Light isn't a personality trait that can be measured Its not a character trait to develop overtime or display You're basically calling her a demigod and closing the book there So i thought to myself: what personality traits does Hikari show? Two came to mind Empathy and Compassion Ok 1 trait two names Hikari felt deeply for all sentient life she encountered She, as an 8 year old girl, gave up herself to save the lives of the other people around her To a vampire she just watched murder someone else RIGHT in front of her She heals digimon she saw hurt with her simple fury at seeing them hurt and killed in front of her So I'm calling Hikari the chosen child of empathy of course other things in Digimon could've been expanded upon frankly I know that tey were literally making things up as they went so i don't blame them but if each character could be boiled down to one character trait that they are supposed to embody then things would've gone differently had they been planning things out a bit more for instance, Yamato (matt) would've been a bit more friendly toward everyone, like, genuinely friendly.  He's supposed to embody friendship within the group and he does a poor job of it frankly Yamato could've even gone a whole like character arc about how he needs to be more friendly toward everyone else in the group. like htere's a billion ways to express friendship between people and there's various different members of the group Yamato was basically defined as the big brother to Takeru and while that's fine it's not what his arcs shoulda been about like, him bouncing off the others a bit more besides TK (I don't remember him even bouncing that much off TK) and Tai woulda been fun and interesting! Encouraging Izzy to talk with the group and share his ideas a bit more giving Jo some one on one talk about his fears an insecurities sharing his two cents with Mimi and how she complains about everything - and I mean making sure she understands that everyone does know she's upset, but so is everyone else and they're al there for each other Tai leading them as the head of a fight ready to dive in and do what it takes to win Matt as the second in command making sure everyone stays together hell, Matt being a big brother could tie into how he interacts with everyone, treating them like he does TK - worried about their safety and trying to get them behind him or make sure they're running away ahead of him also i'd have changed the order of some things like when Genai appeared the first time he shoulda been like "So you're missing a kid.  Here, come to my place and we'll chat" and then explain to the kids whyt hey need to be int he digital world nad then he'll tell them about the 8th child back on Earth and then send them back cause I know full well that Gennai coulda sent them home any fuckin time or even send Tai back alone, have him do the thing with agumon in the real world while the rest of the team searches for primary village and I know Takeru is young and all digimon recylcle themselves into eggs after death but like i want Patamon's egg to appear in primary village and then Gennai takes them there while Tai is out finding the 8th child Matt and Sora together are consoling him best they can about his dead partner, reminding him that Patamon isn't really dead and with his world thrown into dispair, that's what sets Takeru on his own arc to growing into the role of the Chosen child of Hope cause he rises up from the devistating event and pushes forward with the hope that he'll find patamon's egg, and he'll be with his best friend again and no matter what happens he'll always find his partner again i'm not even sure how to structure Koushiro's arc other than what happened in canon honestly he was always, and I mean always on the search for more information maybe his curiousity gets the better of him and the group on their way to try and find the gate between worlds where Gennai says Tai will reappear (coincidentally where Vamdemon is waiting for them as well, imagine that) and so he gets afraid that his thirst for knowledge and information is going to get him killed, since Kuagamon isn't the strongest mon out there? idk man, Izzy literally just shoved his digivice into the damn laptop and reprogramed his digimon to evolve instead of going through character growth of course that could be how he reaches the next stage this time! Rex - Today at 10:00 PM some event that actually makes him think that giving up his knowledge really is for the best and then once he regains it, he finds the code for evolving to perfect form somewhere int eh files of data that the digimon he traded his curiosity to has stored up and Kabuterimon evoles into megakaburterimon i fuckin forget some things though gonna look up the trait of reliability and get back to this rant

[queenjunoking]

Wolf Taming Pt 21

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay - Drugs - Kidnapping  - Manipulation  

“Good afternoon Miss Eos.” I hated having to talk with her. The last few days had been fairly nice without her checking constantly.

“Sweetheart for the last time you can just call me Eos. We don’t need formalities, we’re friends!” She was trying to put on a friendly face. She did it with everyone. I knew when someone was putting on a fake face like that though.

“Is there something wrong? I got a red notification. I hope you’re doing alright.” I tried my best to ignore what she had said, I wanted to get through this as fast as I could.

“Well there is something very wrong darling, you haven’t been answering the phone! I was worried something might have happened to you. You had gotten that big beast and you’ll have to excuse me if I was a little worried something may have happened when you weren’t answering.” She put on a look of concern. I doubted she was actually concerned I was hurt. She would have sent someone over if she was.

“I-” I tried to answer her, but she cut me off as usual.

“I’m not saying that you’d make a mistake darling, I’m just saying your pet is quite a bit bigger than you are and accidents happen. I worry and answering the phone would help quell those worries.” Eos did little else but treat me like a child who couldn’t do anything myself. 

“I’m sorry E-” I was cut off again.

“Are you doing ok sweetheart? You have bags under your eyes. Are you actually sleeping?” She loved to ask these questions. It made her look like she was concerned about anyone other than herself.

“I’m sleeping fi-” Cut off again. I hated these rapid fire questions. She rarely let me answer before changing the subject.

“Where is your… what were you calling her? A coyote?” She was feigning ignorance to press my buttons.

“My wolf. Sasha is over there.” I pressed a button to flip the video to the other camera so she could see Sasha wandering around the garden. She turned to look at me when she heard her name.

“Oh my. No leash or anything? Whenever my pets get let out of their cages I make sure their handler keeps them on a tight leash.” Micromanaging as always.

“She doesn’t need a leash right now Eos. You know that the garden is secure. It’s not like she can run anywhere in the leg binders.” 

“Speaking of leg binders, I see you have some of the doggy restraints on her, but why not the bitchsuit? It was such a lovely purchase.

“She can’t get up and down two flights of stairs in a bitchsuit Eos.”

“Oh nonsense. Of course she can, she’s just not trying hard enough. If you don’t push her she’ll never learn. I never expected you of all people to have a soft side for something like a pet. I’ve seen Penny recently and she’s doing well enough. I just didn’t think you’d take an entire 360 degree turn from what you were doing to her to your new methods.” That got Sasha’s attention. She tilted her head at that statement.

“Everyone is different and requires different approaches. My approach is the correct approach for Sasha.” I was tired of having to explain myself to her. She always thought her methods were best even though she mostly took a one size fits all approach to her slaves. She trained ponies in one way, cows in another way, maids in yet another way. No variance.

“Aw, you have such a soft heart Z. It must be nice to have the time for a one on one approach. I got a new filly and two new mares just today and sold a stallion.” I wasn’t much into ponies, but I had recognized the terms from being around Eos. Mare and filly were size categories for women. Five foot four and under were fillys, mares were taller than that. Stallions were male ponies. “It’s nice to have that one one one ti- oh! Look at that your doggy is coming towards us.” I looked up to watch Sasha walking towards me. I had been so focused on Eos I hadn’t been paying attention to her.

“She’s just kind of wandering around. I’m letting her out as a treat. Three new additions must be difficult to handle.” I wanted to steer the conversation away from Sasha, I was tired of her offers to buy her and I knew a new one was going to come from this.

She ignored me. “Such a lovely girl. Have you taught her any tricks?”

Now this was a trick question. Telling her no would make me seem lazy, like I hadn’t been teaching her anything. But if I said yes that meant I’d have to place my hopes in Sasha playing along. There was no good answer.

“I know a few tricks.” My blood pressure rose as Sasha decided to talk out of turn, standing a few feet away from us. She had a smug look on her face.

“Oh.” Eos’s voice suddenly iced over and her face became more stern. “It talks. Without permission and without honorifics.”

“Sasha does not know how the society works Eos and I have decided to let her vent her emotions as she is trained. It is one of the reasons I haven’t been answering your calls. I’ve been spending a lot of time with her and I didn’t want this situation to occur.” It was bullshit. I didn’t care whether Sasha knew the honorifics or not. But I thought Sasha would be smart enough not to talk out of turn.

“Well, if it keeps talking there are options you know. Some owners get their vocal cords clipped. I’ve heard it's good for pets that can’t learn when they should be speaking.” She was speaking to me, but I could tell she was really talking to Sasha. It was a threat and a window into how our world worked. The smug look on Sasha’s face was wiped away.

“I have my own methods. I have the collar on her. I just have it in a different mode. I was unable to change the mode back to the standard one because of the red notification. My apologies.” While it might not have stopped her from trying to talk, I wish I could have changed the mode. I had pointlessly left it in pet mode.

“It’s alright darling.” Her demeanor instantly changed back like nothing happened. “How about she shows me a few tricks?”

I didn’t have much of a choice anymore, it was time to see if Sasha would play along or not. “Sasha, sit.” A few seconds ticked by and Eos was getting quickly impatient. But she listened and sat down.

“I see it takes a little while for commands to reach it’s tiny brain. I could have sworn it’s file said it was quite intelligent. Apparently it was wrong.” I watched Sasha’s eyes narrow, there was nothing I could do to get her to stop. Eos could see us both so I couldn’t give her any signal to tell her to knock it off. Eos noticed Sasha’s gaze and her voice turned icy again. “It’s pretty feisty as well. You know Z, I’ve never known a slave to be feisty after getting one on one time with you. I hope you aren’t losing your touch. Soft trainers make bad pets.”

“I want to take my time training her. I’m not selling her, she’s mine. There’s no reason I need to expedite her training. It will all fall into place.” I hated how Eos micromanaged everything. She did the same thing when I was training Penny. She always thought she knew best.

“Well I hope she knows another trick by now. Can she bark? Bark doggy.” I wanted to roll my eyes. This interaction was just getting more and more on my nerves.

“Bark Sasha.”

“Woof.” I wished I could have shocked her. She knew she was doing it wrong and was doing it on purpose. Either she didn’t believe my threat or thought embarrassing me meant more than the harm she was doing to herself.

“Oh.” Ice covered her words again. “I guess it really is that stupid. Oh well.” Instantly she was back to her cheery self. “You know Z, there’s no shame in admitting you’re having trouble training someone. It's basically your first time. It’s hard to count Penny since she broke almost immediately. Saying anyone trained her is a stretch.”

“What are you trying to get at Eos?” Unfortunately I couldn’t suppress a sigh and I could see her getting irritated with me.

“All I’m saying dear is that I could take her off your hands. How about… 120k? Enough for you to buy another less high maintenance pet? Maybe some other fun things for yourself? I could train her here on the farm and you could even come visit her whenever you want too!” She gave me a smile as she laid down her latest offer.

“I don’t want your money Eos, I want Sasha. I appreciate the help you’ve been giving me but I’m doing fine.” Sasha decided to undermine my point again by rolling her eyes.

 “Well, I’m sure you’ll teach her proper tricks soon enough darling. Just keep my offer in mind darling. I must really be going and please don’t ignore my calls. I just want to be sure you’re ok. Ta!”

WiIth that she ended the call before I could respond.

“How’s it going Z? Not much of a name. Can’t remember the rest of it or something or is it some dumb codename?” Sasha seemed proud of herself.

I walked over to her and unlocked the leg binders. “I said I’d unlock these independent of the call so you can enjoy the outside without them for a while.”

“That Eos seems like a real bitch. Can’t imagine what that’s like Z.” Her face lit up with a smirk.

“Collar is on Sasha. No more talking for the rest of our time outside. I set the collar to 8.” She grinned, stretched out, and laid out in the grass.

Sasha really thought she won in some sort of way. Sure, I was embarrassed. But in the eyes of the Society an owner not being competent with their property was a problem that could be fixed with some training. But an unruly slave was something that required more than training. 

I don’t think Sasha could comprehend what that could entail.

Eos

Poor Z was in over her head. She had chosen such a nice specimen, unfortunately she didn’t understand that her plans were wasting her potential. Sasha would have made such a fantastic show pony. Maybe a work horse if I could find others that would match her physique. She might have even been able to cut it as a race horse.

“Mimi!” I called for my personal maid. After a few seconds I could hear the clicking of her heels on the hardwood and she rushed as fast as she could. Admittedly “as fast as she could” was fairly slow due to her uniform.

“Yes Mistress Eos? I’m terribly sorry it took so long I was gathering the status reports of the new additions to the barn.”

I looked over at my maid. Every time I got a look at her I knew the modifications I paid for were worth it. Mimi was a pink mess. Her nails and hair were made permanently pink. She had undergone eye surgery that turned her eyes from the dull and boring brown they were before into a pink that matched her hair. Her locking pink latex maid dress and ballet boots just completed the look. Mimi wasn’t capable of being the fastest maid I owned, but she learned very quickly learned to be my hardest working maid. Mimi had been a bubbly girl before I bought her. Obsessed with pink so I knew she’d love the changes I did to her. Most of them at least, she didn’t appreciate the permanent chastity I placed her in.

“Oh? And how are they adjusting?” New arrivals were difficult on their first day. They came too late in the day to put them in their normal day one training so left orders for them to be locked in their sleep cells for the day.

Mimi looked at a piece of paper she brought with her. “Well, one of the mares tried attacking a stable hand and the stable master had her whipped in front of the other two as an example. After that the other mare became quiet. The filly however experienced a breakdown and has been crying nonstop in her cell. The stable master wishes to have your input on the matter Mistress Eos as they don’t want to take additional steps without knowing your plans for her.” Mimi had long since gotten used to how things worked around here. Had she not been a slave she would have made a fantastic assistant.

“I see. I’m going to be busy for a little while unfortunately. I’d like you to to tell the stable master that she is to leave the filly to weep until I go down. Dismissed Mimi.”

“Yes Mistress Eos.” She turned to hobble back downstairs.

“Oh, wait one moment Mimi.” I motioned for her to come back in.

“Yes Mistress Eos?” She hobbled back into the room, stood at attention and waited eagerly for orders.

This is the way a slave should act. They should listen. They have no need to make eye contact. They should be eager to serve. They shouldn’t be the mess that I watched frolic in Z’s garden.

“Tell the stable master to prepare another cell. I’m expecting another new addition by the end of the week.”

[virtualenemypersona-blog]

Oozora Yuujin: Double Standard in Digimon/Appmon Fandom

Seriously, why is no one talking about this?

If you watch Tri and Appmon more carefully, you'll find that Oozora Yuujin has pretty much experienced ALL the Tri girls' main problems.  

1. Yuujin and Meiko: Being hurt both physically and mentally because of their cute, problematic partners.

But compared to Meiko who can only cry and run, Yuujin (despite his low self-esteem, just like Meiko’s) has guts to stop Shutmon using his own body.

2. Yuujin and Sora: Caring for others while neglecting themselves.

Worse, when they can't solve their own problems by themselves, they will pretend like they can handle everything on their own. At least, Yuujin finally opens up to welcome the others’ help, rather than throws himself into more trouble like Sora does. It's not all Sora's fault, though. Haru and the others are doing it right when they offer Yuujin help. While Taichi and Yamato can only complain and make Sora feel worse (Just imagine if it was Takeru who talked to her. The story would be different).

That being said, Yuujin still ends up diving by himself into danger to save Offmon, and needs Haru and Globemon to rescue them.

3. Yuujin and Hikari: Being possessed by god-like, balance-seeking yet destructive digital entities.

Hikari, while her body is being taken over, still manages to resist Homeostasis from inside. Yuujin? Indeed, he manages to take over half of his body when being controlled, to call Haru’s name. But when Leviathan finally takes full charge of him, he helplessly lets Haru do everything, until Leviathan offers Haru to save the world by killing them both.

4. Yuujin and Mimi: Being alienated in new environments.

We see Mimi get rejected by her new friends for her Daters Cafe, but still able to stay believing in herself and her ideal. While little Yuujin reacts to being rejected (even by someone he barely knows) as if no one would ever want to have him around again. Until Haru comes and helps him through it.

See the similarities and differences now?

This is only my guess, but the writers might intentionally put Yuujin through these "girls problems", to let us see the real Yuujin, which is not as perfect as he seems to be.

But why should "girls problems"? Why not giving him more masculine problems, such as unable to protect younger sibling, rivalry, or being a good leader, like Taichi and Yamato used to struggle with? Doesn't Yuujin resemble those two? An active, popular protagonist-like boy? They still can show Yuujin's flaws through "boys problems", right? So, why should "girls problems"?

I will try to answer this later, but let me get something straight first.

I enjoy Appmon. But I am sick seeing Yuujin being treated by the fandom as Taichi's expy (even after the plot reveals his vulnerability without Haru) just because he plays soccer, is a boy, and is said to be an ideal protagonist, when there is already Sora, whom Yuujin obviously shares more similar traits with, rather than with Taichi.

"But Yuujin can't be Sora's expy! Because Yuujin is portrayed as a popular, active masculine sportsman, and Sora is a girl just too motherly to be compared to one."

Yeah, right. You must forget how Sora was when she was a kid (she even played soccer too, for God’s sake!). And you didn't truly watch how Yuujin and Offmon's interaction went. If Yuujin can't be called as a patient, loving parent that is succeed in bringing up the cowardly Offmon to be a capable fighter, I don't know what he is to Offmon.

I'm not saying that Yuujin should have been a girl, to make his character and this show proper. I'm also not saying that Taichi is better than Yuujin, or the girls. The point is, Taichi is the base character for most Digimon protagonists. And Yuujin, if he was really modeled after Taichi, should have faced those "girls problems" above with much more protagonist-like ways, like Mimi or Hikari does (who are not even the protagonists).

But, nah. Yuujin turns out to be a woobie, fragile distressed damsel. Something that Taichi would never become, but Sora and Meiko would.

And that is NOT a bad thing either. Personally, I never see any characters as bad. If they are written like that, then that's how they are. The only thing that can ruin the characters is either the writers' bad writing, unreasonable inconsistency, or the audience's high expectation. And those, of course, are not the characters' faults (I'm looking at you, 02-Sora).

However, Appmon writers are bunch of talents (or rather, trolls) that trick the audience to think of Yuujin as the Taichi for the un-Taichi-like protagonist: Haru. They also seem to be aware on how the double standard between boys and girls works, and use it to surprise the audience.

Writer A: Let's write a wimpy, shy introverted main character for the new Digimon series Writer B: All right, but sure he would overcome his weakness, take a level in badass, and save the world, right? Writer A: Of course. And that's why he would need “someone special” to be rescued from the baddies. It would mature him dramatically in no time. Writer C: Oh, a love interest! Interesting! *writes Ai-chan* Here she is! What do you say? Writer A: She's cute. But looks boring. Please make another. Writer C: *writes Eri* Here! Another one, but stronger and more confident. She would help the wimpy main character to grow a backbone. Writer A: Is she going to be kidnapped? Writer C: Well, maybe. That's how it usually works, right? Writer A: No, scrap that. It would reduce this show into another chickification trash. The older audience have had enough of that. Writer B: Hey guys, hear me out. Make another one like Eri. Strong, confident, and kind. But this time, change her into a boy. There wouldn't be any chickification if the victim was a boy. The older audience would never expect it either. They might not even realize.

I’ve seen some comments complaining about how Yuujin and Offmon had stolen the spotlight from Haru. But no one seems to ever complain about Yuujin’s “chickification”, which rendered him almost useless in the Ultimate 4 arc and the last arc (except for being Haru’s living emotional crutch and maybe, fetish fuel, as him being crucified under a time bomb, or put into bondage suit while being possessed/mind-controlled, seems to be well-received among his fans).

On the other hand, Eri impressively freeing herself from Knight is considered as a very compelling point that some even regard her as the best DigiGirl ever. If Eri ended up in Yuujin’s position, she would promptly be accused for being another chickification victim, like Sora, Izumi, and Nene.

Appmon cleverly avoids itself from being tagged with chickification trope, by subjecting a boy (Yuujin) to it. And not just a boy. He's (seemed to be)confident, active, kind, brave, protective, patient, one of the chosen ones, able to kick ass, in short: almost perfect protagonist-like boy.

If Yuujin was a girl, in this kind of kids/shonen anime,even with a "weak" protagonist like Haru; admit it.The way how she was treated throughout the series: being so much devoted to a boy, to the level being distressed, kidnapped, possessed, and finally sacrificed for the said boy’s character development, would be a “very annoying, yet unsurprising thing” to see, since Digimon has quite reputation in chickifiying its action girls.

Girl!Yuujin would be deemed as a Mary Sue subjected to the most severe chickification that Digimon series had ever done. No “female Taichi” would ever be tagged to her. Even if she played soccer and wore goggle.

Regardless of the special treatment Yuujin got from the fandom because of his gender, Digimon Universe: Appli Monsters, though might not be the best series, still nails at what it specializes the most. Surprising the audience while staying to be faithful to the plot and the characteristics of its casts.

No one would ever think that Yuujin being broken is the price that Haru has to pay, in order to grow himself as a real protagonist. Most audience might have expected that Yuujin would be Haru's mentor (or at least, rival) since he has already been a “protagonist” from beginning. But haha. Let alone mentoring, Yuujin has been always depending on Haru, like Haru is the whole world to him. Turns out Haru also feels the same way toward Yuujin. But instead of depending on, Haru chooses to be a protagonist (hero) that Yuujin can depend on, to make up for the fact that he can't save him from Leviathan.

Appmon last episode is pretty much an antithesis to what it appears to be in the first episode. "Yuujin the confident hero and Haru the kindhearted side-character" has been flipped to "Yuujin the selfless, sacrificial lamb and Haru the dependable, determined hero".

More impressively, this ending doesn't come out nowhere. Yuujin himself admits that he has always been saved by Haru, both physically and mentally. This pattern is used throughout the series, yet a bit contradicted in the last episode.

In the last arc, the writers makes Haru rise up with determination to save Yuujin as usual, only to be forced to kill him off, in order to stay being a real protagonist and save the world (very cruel scenario, if you ask me). 

Last but not least. Yuujin never sees himself as a protagonist, or a hero, or a leader. He is just forced to be seen as one, despite his fragile heart and weak mental, which people tend to shrug off because of his first impression as the polar opposite of the un-Taichi-like protagonist, Haru. And that explains why Yuujin is so easy to be destroyed, unlike Haru.

Yuujin is right. He's no protagonist. Haru is the real protagonist.

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