#everyone and their mother knew what most likely was happening under the stage during the RZK remix

[boop-le-snoot]

Putting Till in the naughty puppy corner is simultaneously the worst and the funniest PR move. I genuinely don't know how to feel.

Till during the Deutschland Remix, Munchen, 07.06.2023 / video by Luis Bazwaski

[alpaca-clouds]

Arcane Season 2 - How Bad Pacing Can Ruin Everything

So, Arcane season 2 ended. And I am sorry, I need to vent.

I am honestly not sure whether the rumors are true and this were originally meant to be more seasons. The Riot CEO apparently denies it, but then again, I have seen CEOs confidently go out on stages to talk about a project which they knew was cancelled at that point in time. So, sorry, but I will never ever trust a CEO. Lying is like 50% of their jobs. Being greedy is the other half. Sorry, not sorry.

I am gonna write something about disability in Arcane (overall) during the next few days, but let me just talk a bit about the pacing issues of season 2.

Spoilers for season 2 - all of it - obviously.

Believe me or not, but I know the exact issue of Arcane season 2. It is called: Too many characters. Too many plotlines. It is something that easily happens when writing an ensemble story (no matter what the format is you publish the story in - it happens in books, movies, shows, games). At times it works fine if you manage to weave the entire ensemble into the same main plot. But as soon as you wanna give everyone their own little storyarc with a bit of their own themes, it often goes haywire. Either you will end up dropping some characters to the side and not properly finish up their story, or you will end up rushing everything. Neither is gonna be good.

Here I am mainly thinking... Was the entire Black Rose/LaBlanc stuff planned to be there from the beginning? Was it put in later? I mean, given that the entire story felt like it might set up Mel as a Champion for LoL... How do I put it? Mel was too overdesigned in the show, to not be a future Champion. That was my feeling from the beginning. I don't know if they gonna make her a Champion, but man, it feels like it.

But no, the main issue really is the pacing. There is just too much stuff happening.

I will remain, that the thing that shows this better than anything was the second "arc" of season 2. Episode 4-6. And the general way the entire Caitlyn, Vi, Jinx thing plays out. We have the following things happen in the first six episodes of season 2:

Cait's mother dies

Cait swears revenge and asks Vi to assist her as an enforcer

Vi does not want to. Ends up getting drunk.

Vi decides to do it anyway.

They do a bit of chemical warfare for good measures.

They go down there. Fight Jinx. Vi cannot do it - partly because Isha.

Cait breaks up with Vi and becomes the evil fascist dictator

Vi becomes an alcohol addict.

Except, never mind, Caitlin is already feeling shitty about it next episode.

Jinx gets Vi and Magic Pixie Dreamgirls her out of her new-found addiction.

Jinx and Vi are good again. They go help Vander.

Cait meets Vi for the first time since the break up. They instantly are back on the same page.

Like, there is so many plothooks in this storyline alone that do go completely unexplored.

There are two characters here, that do play a role in the last three episodes too and that felt like they were some proper characters at some point. Those two are Maddie - the Scottish-dialect enforcer girl - and... Frankly, I do not feel like looking up the name. The big burly one, who after the break-up takes care of Vi.

Those two feel like they were at some point meant to be more real characters. But because of the pacing, they are barely ideas. Maddie starts making out with Caitlyn because...? I don't know. Because I literally do not know anything about this character but "she is an enforcer", "she is queer", "she is attracted to power(?)", and thats it.

And the other guy goes with Vi because... Uhm... I don't know. I know literally nothing about this chaaracter other than that he is big and an enforcer. *shrugs*

It most certainly feels like there was some planned version of this show, in which Cait and Vi both had a proper corruption arc. In which we really saw the two of them struggle. In which we actually saw Piltover and Zaun under the control of Commander Caitlyn and Noxus, and saw the horrible things they were doing and what it was doing with Caitlyn. In which we also saw Vi struggling with addiction and stuff.

But that was not the version we got in the end. Instead in this version... things go magically well.

Hooray?

Same with Jinx. Her mental health issues just magically get better when Isha is there, because that is what the story needs to happen now.

Here, too, it also feels like huge chunks of the story are missing. It feels like there was a story going more into the relationship of Sevika and Jinx for a bit. But if that story had been there once, it was most certainly no longer there. It was hinted at, yeah, but that's it.

And then there is the entire magic plot.

Look, I think among the fans of the LoL Lore I am not the first one to say: "Yeah, trying to marry the worldbuilding of Arcane to the established Runeterra worldbuilding does not work, because of the magic." Runeterra so far was always a fairly high magic world - at least that was implied by comics and short stories. Magic was a common thing in this world. Otherwise we could not have that many magic champions and a whole place whose entire thing it had been: "We are anti-magic Nazis building mage concentration camps!"

When Riot said, that Arcane was now the main canon, A LOT of fans of the lore were like: "You get that it is not gonna work." And yeah, Arcane Season 2 clearly shows how it doesn't work.

Because the way they put in the entire "Mel is magic, also the Black Rose is a thing" stuff just... It did not fit in the entire plot around it. Because Arcane had been designed as a world where magic was very rare and strange. But now Mel had to be magic and somehow had to be connected to the Black Rose.

Also... What the fuck even happened there in the end? Why put that in? Why make Mel go against LaBlanc? I am sorry, but that was simply too much for this plot. The entire Black Rose stuff stuck out of this plot like - pardon the pun - a thorn.

Generally there are several relationships that feel, like they had at one point been a whole more explored, but then got dropped to the wayside.

As I said, Sevika and Jinx are definitely an example. Ekko and Heimerdinger as well. I also feel like what was episode 7 of the show was probably originally more than one episodes and slower paced - though it still to me was the one episode in this, that kinda worked in of itself. And that the Ekko and Jinx relationship was better established.

I also feel that Viktor and that echo of Skye was probably at some point supposed to actually have talks. Like: "I will miss talking to you." - "No, you won't." Okay? THEN SHOW ME THEM TALKING PLEASE?!

Which kinda brings me down to the main thing that happened because of the pacing issue. Season 2 of Arcane knew only two extremes in terms of "Show, don't tell". Either it goes full "music video" in whcih indeed it just shows us shit without context or dialogue - or we get the information just via dialogue, in a complete tell.

This also shows in the last episode, with the entire thing of Piltover asking the Zaunites for help, after brutally surpressing them forever. Yeah, I see where they were going with this. About being the bigger people and planting seeds and what not. But frankly, there might have been a time and space for a story like that, if properly told (you know, with giving more of the Zaunites a voice in this story, showing more of the conflict and spacing this plot out over several episodes). But a) it was not properly told, and b) a world in which several genocides happen while Trump somehow won a second term is not that world. Yes, b) is not the fault of anyone working on Arcane. That was simply bad luck on their part. But a) is very much their fault - and even if we did not have a Palestinian Genocide and no second Trump term: Without a) being done properly, it would not have worked. It would have just not felt quite as miserable.

You know, the most frustrating thing about this was, that... While I think that one way or another I would still have hated how the show handles the topic of disability (again, I will write about this during the next few days), I generally might have liked the same plot, if it had been given the needed space to breathe.

Like... Sure, I would have never really been on board with "fascist Caitlyn", or rather with "fascist Caitlyn, who gets then forgiven by everyone". But I could have somewhat swallowed it, if that forgiveness had to be earned. But because of the breakneck speed of this show, it never got earned. I am not even talking about redemption arcs here - those are always a headache - but specifically about the fact that Caitlyn gets instantly forgiven by everyone.

Also, lol. The entire thing with Ekko convincing Jinx to come along off-screen. That was unelegant.

Heck, it feels in the first four episodes, as if there was an arc being set up for Sevika in general. And it feels like that arc needed to happen, given that Sevika ends up on the COUNCIL OF PILTOVER in the epilogue. However, that Arc just does not happen. Then, like... why set it up?

That is general the issue. There is a lot of set-up and very, very little payoff to any of it.

And here is the thing. I have heard people argue about whether or not this was meant to have more seasons. But frankly: I do not think that the writers who wrote season 1 would have written this story this way had they known it would be two seasons.

Mind you, compared to some people I would not rate the writing in season 1 higher than maybe 6 or 7 of 10. It was solid, but not overwhelmingly great. But season 2 in comparison is a 2 of 10, maybe a 3 of 10, if I am being gracious.

And frankly, I do not think any writer, who is in any way worth their salt, would write a story where a main character goes evil, and then do exactly nothing with it. I mean, sorry, us writers, we are a dramatic bunch. And we will not resist the drama being served on a silver platter unless we are forced too. I cannot imagine a single writer, who will go with the end of episode 3 and then not write a bunch of angst with Caitlyn and Vi - unless they were forbidden.

And mind you, CaitVi is by far the ship I am least invested in. But it is simply such a glaring example of where the plot is rushed in a way that it hinders the character arcs.

Oh, and also... Lest. Lest in the first six episodes clearly felt like a character, who was going to play a role. Only to then disappear to not be seen again during the finale. What happened to Lest? Is she dead? Is she alive? I guess we'll never know.

*sighs* I am sorry. I really am. I am just... very disappointed. This has been a mess. And I think it would not have needed to be.

Like, the animation is still the most pretty thing ever made in the world. But man... The plot? The plot sucks balls. And not in the sexy way.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Hey! You probably have already been asked this question- and I know you’ll probably never see this- but I’ve been thinking about this and curious about this lately, uh-

What are all the things killer went through during his time under the control of his frisk? Both cannon and head-cannon? I have a few head-cannons myself but am really curious what others think and what the cannon is!

It’s okay if not answered, am just a curious soul wondering about stuff-

Well, first, it wasn’t his Frisk he was under the control of—Frisk is actually hardly mentioned in Something New outside of the first few panels of the first page of the comics, and Killer saying he misses stabbing Frisk’s face when asked if he missed Frisk.

It was Chara, and the Player—basically one and the same in Something New, even if Chara the dead child potentially wants something more. All the Player ever really wants from Killer’s existence is something new, after all. Chara’s the one who wanted a partner in crime.

As for what happened between them, the fun part is—we don’t actually canonically know. We can make guesses based on the beginning, when Killer turned on them, and some things based on after they ended—how Killer still sees them and hears them and listens to them, how he feels watched by them constantly, as if they’re living inside him.

This tells me just how codependent their relationship was—and how scared and powerless Killer feels beneath them, even as he feels he needs them and that he still has to listen to them, even if he doesn’t want to—even as he struggles to realize that he doesn’t want to, because he wants what They want.

Even if he has a new “master” now in the form of Nightmare. It tells me that Chara’s wants and priorities and needs have always taken priority over anything and anyone else—especially Killer himself.

It’s like..how a baby doesn’t realize they are separate from their mother for the first few months of their life. Except Killer never truly realized that he is separate from them. Or that they are separate from him. He has internalized them, and in many ways, has become them. Something he struggles to make sense of.

Killer doesn’t know who he is or what he is, what he wants—if he wants anything at all. He doesn’t know what is or isn’t real—why he feels and behaves about certain things. Why everything both does and doesn’t feel familiar, and yet still he is always just separate.

Chara provided directions. They represent identity and direction and stability, certainty and structure. They scare him and hurt him and confuse him, and he hates them and fears them in equal measure, but no one has understood him like them. Not even himself.

I’m sure he also didn’t use to understand why he was ever scared of or disobedient of Chara before—if something ever triggered him into Stage 1, such as his own hesitance to kill Papyrus. Stage 2 may not have held the same emotional ties to Chara that Stage 1 does or hold the same anger and hate that Stage 3 does or the fear and reverence that Stage 4 does; but it wasn’t like he knew anything else besides them with certainty.

He knew he needed them. He didn’t know fully why, he just did. He could try to explain why but it’d be through the lens of what Chara taught him: control or be controlled, the most Determined decide fate, etc.

He holds on these contradictory views and experiences with Chara, likely dissociated and compartmented into his four Stages, but all just as true as eachother.

They made him. He exists because of the Player, sure, but Chara basically raised him. The Player speaks through them, they act on our behalf. There may even be no difference between Chara and God in his mind in Stage 4.

And try as he might, he can’t pry their pieces out of him.

All of it suggests heavy levels of manipulation, conditioning, gaslighting, dependency, and abuse to me. The specifics aren’t said or shown or even confirmed, but the fact that out of all his shadowy hallucinations of everyone he’s killed—living in his head—Chara’s the only one who’s more than a shadow and has sway over his choices seems to say something about their relationship.

Anyway, a lot of things could’ve likely happened when he was with Chara. Who knows how long they were together—Killer likely doesn’t know. How many timelines they went through together.

I do like to think that there was an entire timeline where Killer and Chara overthrew Asgore and ruled the Underground themselves at some point, because Princess Killer and Killer being conditioned through royal etiquette is an idea I love. I also think he was conditioned through childhood nursery rhymes, games, gestures, and sayings that are loaded with specific meanings that only Chara and Killer themselves know. Their own little language.

I think Chara gave Killer Asriel’s golden locket, to basically make Killer into the better “Asriel.” I do believe he was often threatened and kept in line through the use of the Reset—something Killer, back when he was Sans, hated and dreaded more anything.

(And by that I mean, he was either threatened with a Reset if he didn’t do something, or forced to repeat something over and over through the use of the Reset until he either did it perfectly or without thinking or hesitation. Until any attempts to resist results in an instinctive overriding of his own will via the triggering of Stage 4.)

That original sentiment was likely twisted over time, but still present in some shape or form—such as the need for something new, and to not constantly do the same thing over and over again, even as paradoxically, Killer has a tendency to do the same things over and over again thanks to the role of the Resets in his conditioning.

I’ve made a post before about like, Chara and Killer making the killing into something like hunting games, can’t find it. But I like to think there was a punishment-reward system that Killer internalized as well, especially in Stage 4.

I’ve mentioned before how i hc that Killer and Chara had a pinky swear system that could never be broken under threat of grievous harm to whichever party breaks the promise—and as a result any promises made via pinky swears with Killer from absolutely anyone is basically the same as signing away your right to live if you ever break it.

I’ve mentioned how I think the one death Killer has never experienced before is buttercup poisoning. But basically, anything you think could happen has possibly happened, except ya know..weird stuff.

Reality is a game, and the Underground is their sandbox.

[kottkrig]

To Embrace The Shadow: Prologue

Three members of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows have to cope with the sudden loss of their beloved mentor, and they come to realize just how dependent they were on her. They refuse to believe that she is gone forever, and choose to investigate the mysterious circumstances of her demise.

World of Warcraft | Original Characters

Light Angst | Found Family | Character Death

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

A few days had passed since the fall of the Shadow Mother. Her demise was abrupt, and left the undead nested under her wing in a state of disorder. When holy flames reduced her to ashes, those she protected were vulnerable to vultures in the sun, and when the Light caught them wandering without her, it blistered relentlessly.

Things in Deathknell moved on, as they always did for people who had seen countless days of loss. The Forsaken faced death every day when they looked one another in the eye. Names greater than Mother Lucretia Corentine had passed on before her, and their legacy was etched in stone above their final resting places. You honored them, you mourned them, and then you moved on. This was the necessary conclusion when death was always found around the corner. But for the Shadow Mother’s three disciples, Lafayette, Zala and Cletus, grief was stuck at the stage of denial. It might have been the shock over her defeat, still, but something wasn’t sitting right with the trio. Their mentor was one of the few Forsaken whose magic enabled her to transcend death itself; through ruthless discipline, she managed to escape the rotten vessel she was confined to and make herself a living shadow. Mother Lucretia’s mastery of their doctrine crowned her as one of the Cult of Forgotten Shadow’s leading Dark Clerics. Ascendants like her were practically unkillable, and yet… Other Dark Clerics passed them by as if the one thing they had to make room for in their schedule was her eventual funeral rites. After that, the puppets she left unstringed were responsible for themselves. The cult’s upper echelons could be cutthroat; even if they supported one another, if one of them was destroyed, there was nothing more to be said. Mother Lucretia’s failure was underestimating their third and most dangerous tenet – Power – and the man who defeated her had more of it than she did. Sister Zala was the one who saw everything. The undead night elf was at the forefront during the conflict, and although she and everyone else escaped back to Deathknell, it had sent her into hysterics. She screamed and sprinted into the woods, leaving her Brothers to face the grim news alone. When she returned, they let her into their arms to weep over their loss. The two Brothers weren’t present, but they sensed the severance. All four of their minds were magically connected – a perk agreed upon when they became disciples of a Dark Cleric – and they knew something was wrong when the link was suddenly cut. They were not warriors, but it pained them to know that they couldn’t be there to defend her, or even see the face of her bane. The man who struck her down was a zealous preacher and the leader of an opposing denomination of cultists. Him and his ilk were being hunted by the Shadow’s agents to stop their Light from causing more ruin.

Lafayette, Zala and Cletus knew the Forgotten Shadow and its tenets intimately. Respect , Tenacity and Power encouraged the undead to embrace the darkness around them, and to embody the will of the Forsaken in the face of adversity. As every cultist’s path was unique and one of their own choosing, the three decided that their next direction was to investigate what exactly happened to the Shadow Mother.

[sosuigeneris]

Can you expand on your parents strict parenting?

For sure. these were some of the rules my sibling and I had/ some of which we still have:

Our transactions are monitored by our family accountant. Our parents have full access to our bank accounts. We can spend whatever we want and wherever we want but what we do will always be monitored.

Growing up we were expected to learn classical music, engage in sports and travel abroad to understand culture. We were not given the freedom to opt out of this until high school ended. Good grades were a given. I was a star pupil so I never had issues with this but my sibling did.

Our media consumption was monitored till we were about 14-15. Everything that we were watching, reading, the apps we were on, social media everything was monitored. That’s why you won’t ever find crazy pictures of me online.

We were expected to do something philanthropic on our birthdays because our father was scared that we would be seen as “spoilt rich kids” if we only threw parties.

My father would often observe my parties, albeit from a distance. Whoever threw up, made a mess etc etc he knew exactly what was happening. Drivers would be kept to ensure everyone got home safe and no one drove under the influence.

At some stages of my life I had security drop me to school. It was on-off. I’ve had stalker incidents.

We were raised with Nannies who took care of us and who we loved. My father was absent frequently when I was younger. My mother couldn’t manage two kids on her own, so she hired two Nannies to take care of us. They were allowed to discipline us in any way.

strict monitoring over my clothes. Given my background, I had to dress conservative at all times. My father also preferred me having long hair, which is what I still stick to today because I agree that it looks better on me. even at home, I can’t just wear regular wear like shorts or skirts or PJs or no bra because of the amount of male staff we have.

Our parents never interfered in our teachers’ ways of disciplining us. Both my sibling and I have been beaten plenty at school. Most of my other friends’ parents complained to the principals about these sort of disciplinary methods but my father refused to, saying that it was good for us.

I was kept away from certain families, certain family members from a very young age. Today I know why.

i have a few high profile family members. If they ever posted a picture of my sibling and I with them, our legal team would contact them to immediately take the photos down. My father refused to have any sort of publicity of his children.

we were never allowed to date. Both my sibling and I, if we opt for marriage, will have to respect the arranged marriage custom.

we often had dinners with politicians, actors, businessmen - we were expected to be quiet and observe and never interact more than necessary. I was once scolded terribly for getting excited when I met one of my all time favourite actresses. You had to be emotionally neutral at all times.

my sibling and I both have drivers licenses but we’re encouraged to take the drivers if we have to go out and not drive alone.

we were expected to have an extremely high level of global affairs. Reading the news everyday, reading physical books, was highly important.

we were raised quite sheltered. I didn’t realise how sheltered I was until I went abroad for college. I can’t explain how but yeah.

we never got presents for birthdays because we could have anything we wanted during the year. When we were younger this came with some set of goals that we had to meet.

We were groomed for the businesses early on, provided we had the motivation. I began in mid teens out of interest, my sibling refused to join till their early 20s. Our family’s rule was simple - either you get out of the house and start from absolute scratch or you work with us. If we decided to join the business, we were given X years to prove ourselves. If we cannot prove our competency, we’re both out.

The heads of our families - grandpa and my father - their wills were read out to us on a yearly basis. We knew very early on what legalities regarding our inheritance (which is also to be earned, not given) looked like. Our father warned us from a young age that no dispute over money, property or business between my sibling and I will be tolerated. Our spouses will never join the business but they may look after philanthropic causes.

I’ll update this list as I remember more things.

[fruitymations]

TW // serious medical talk This is a really important update about what's going on. I'm copying/pasting the text from my Twitlonger post. Everything is under a read more.

Hey everyone. I've been inactive quite a bit due to family emergencies that have popped up.

I normally don't talk about these things publicly, but it's gotten so bad I've decided to give some sort of an update for my social media.

My father is currently in the hospital. On Tuesday (April 11th) he was found unconscious for up to two hours in the lumber department at a Home Depot store nearby where we live. He has a more severe case of type 2 diabetes and his blood sugar was found to be around 780 during this incident. He refused medical treatment but the Home Depot staff refused to let him drive home on his own as his condition could put himself and others at risk if he were to go behind the wheel.

He seemed a little out of it when I went to go see him the next day on Wednesday (April 12th). I assumed he was tired from the previous day's incident and that his medications might have been taking a while to kick in. I went to see him to pick up the car keys for our other van so I could pick up the van from the Home Depot parking lot. My father lives separate from us at the house that my mom owns. It's the same house she got in early 2021 that I've been trying to renovate from time to time. Me and my mother live in the condo unit we've had since early 2009.

On Saturday (April 15th) I was headed to my weekend delivery job. I was driving the family van since my regular car is currently in the shop as of writing this. I decided to stop by the house to drop off the other house keys and lockbox keys that my dad had attached to the van's key fob. When he answered the door I immediately knew something was wrong. He was showing signs of what looked like a typical stroke (left side of his body and face was mostly paralyzed, slurred and slowed speech, significant mental confusion). I called an ambulance for him after contacting my mother, my sister, and a close family friend about it.

He was taken to the emergency room and his fasting blood sugar was 465. The medical staff at the hospital tried bringing his blood sugar down and he got sleepy quickly. He's not in a coma, but he's been asleep since then and they haven't been able to get him to fully wake up. He also is unable to wake up on his own. I eventually found out that he hasn't been taking any pill medication for his diabetes and other ailments since November of 2022. He's supposed to take daily insulin injections for his blood sugar, but I found out that his most recent insulin injections he had expired in April of 2022.

I will give a more thorough update on his hospital stay and condition once he is out of the hospital, since things are still in progress with him. I've been going around updating my aunts and uncles on his side of the family (he has about seven or eight siblings; I don't know all of them since he's not great at keeping in touch with others). I've also been scrambling around to keep my mother, my sister, my friends, my partners, and close family friends about his condition as the hours and days go on. I'm his only kid and his next of kin so I've had to go back and forth on updating everyone. Once he's able to wake up on his own and is coherent, I'll have to discuss with him on becoming his power of attorney for healthcare in case anything serious happens in the future where he's unable to make medical decisions for himself.

On top of this, my mother also has her own laundry list of medical issues that require lots of various medications to keep her stable and alive. She also has type 2 diabetes but it's not as severe as my father's. Her other health conditions include interstitial lung disease (and lung scarring caused by this condition), severe sleep apnea, stage 3 pulmonary arterial hypertension, and edema (doctors suspect its caused by the heart struggling to keep up with her conditions). I'm mostly worried about her pulmonary arterial hypertension because there is no cure and it usually is the cause of death for those who are diagnosed with it.

Despite her conditions, she still goes to work since she's the financial stronghold of the household. Good friends of mine, along with my family and both my partners, all know about the debt that we have been dealing with. My mother has accumulated $120,000 USD of credit card debt and still owes about $180,000 USD for the mortgage on the house we got back in 2021. All together it's a total of $300,000 USD.

The things I can do to raise money is limited if it's through me, since I'm on SSI, and being on SSI means there are tight and usually unethical financial restrictions put on people like me. I get my healthcare through SSI via Medicaid. If I lose my SSI, I lose my healthcare. I have some health issues myself (mild GERD, possible PCOS, possible IBS, weight problems, some dental problems that I have to wait to get seen for, and mental health issues).

We are on the verge of bankruptcy and are possibly facing the loss of the little bit of stability that we have left. My mother isn't able to retire without risking financial ruin and she's dealing with an incurable disease that will most likely slowly kill her. I don't know if my father will bounce back from his current condition or not. I don't even know if his insurance will cover any of this.

I've been reluctant to open donations or fundraisers for this because I don't want to just take people's money left and right as I'd just feel bad about it.

I'm terrified. I'm exhausted. I don't know what to do.

[gucciwins]

Leather and Lace

The one where Harry goes to the Grammy's and Y/N is his date

Word count: 4,960

A/N: Hello beautiful friends! Harry at the Grammy's just blew me away, the leather look is all I want to talk about for the rest of my life.

I was feeling inspired and decided it was only fitting to continue Adore You. Part two is Three Time following nominations. So this is part three. Yes, I have a soft spot for Harry and Atticus. Will always write for them if the inspiration strikes.

warnings: smut (female pleasure), pandemic

There's been one thought running through Y/N's head for most of the day, and Harry can tell because it's nearing five pm and she has not started on dinner. Instead, she's sitting on the backyard steps that give her the beautiful view of the pacific ocean, an empty glass of wine in hand.

Harry doesn't say anything, just sits next to her, knowing she will speak when she's ready, but he also knows she enjoys the quiet moments with him.

Y/N leans her head on his shoulder, letting out a deep breath before settling down the wine glass to wrap her arms around his bicep.

"You asked me an important question."

"Wasn't that important." He shrugs.

"Harry," No nickname making sure he knows she's serious. "It is important. You asked me to be your date to the Grammys where you're opening the show and are a three-time nominee during a pandemic."

"Well, when you put it like that." He teases.

Y/N and Harry made two years of dating on February 16. To celebrate, they had dinner from their favorite Italian food place with chocolate strawberries for dessert that Atticus made for them with the help of Mitch and Sarah, who were more than pleased to take him for the night. It was a beautiful day primarily spent in bed talking and enjoying each other, reminding each other how much they were loved and would continue to be as years went on.

Two years and their relationship has been well hidden. Honestly, Jeff has been impressed at how not one word has gotten out. This may be due to only close friends and family knowing about the relationship. Also that they spent almost one entire year inside due to this ongoing pandemic.

She's not worried about others finding out about her relationship with Harry; that isn't her big concern; it is what they will say about her and Atticus. Harry is a single dad to the world, and Atticus is his first priority, and everyone knows that; she does not want to be the reason they write about how Harry is a neglecting father for dating someone so openly. She fears the backlash and how it can affect how Harry sees her.

Reasonably, Y/N knows that won't happen and that Harry sees her as his life partner as he's told her on multiple occasions. Also, the assurance that Atticus gives to her by calling her Mum more openly around their family. The constant I love you's get her through it.

"I understand if you aren't ready, love."

"Don't think I'll ever be ready, but there are lots of times where I just find myself wanting to shout it from the rooftops how much I love you." Harry smiles, knowing he's felt the exact same way.

"Yes, I'll be your date to the Grammys." She breathes out after a moment of silence.

Harry sits up straight, shifting to make her look him in the eyes. "Yeah, you will?"

"I'd be honored."

Harry's smile is breathtaking, and the next thing she knows, his lips are on hers. It's passionate and full of thank you's because she knows how much this means to him.

He pulls back but not before pecking her lips twice.

"I'm going to call Jeff." Harry rushes inside, leaving her alone once more, but a sincere smile is left on her face.

Y/N said yes because even though a part of her wanted to say no, the urge to say yes won because to be there by his side holding his hand no matter the results win her over.

She says yes because as much as she may have wanted to say no, the urge to say yes and be there by his side, holding his hand no matter the results, wins her over.

Harry comes back ten minutes later, a bottle of champagne in hand, with his eyes shining bright as if he had already won the award. "Jeff said it's all set. He's going to be our third wheel for the night."

She laughs, knowing very well he loves when Jeff has to be around them without his wife now. Always teasing him, but also very happy for him.

"Pop that open then! Let us celebrate." They walk back into the house, getting glasses, when they hear small steps approaching them.

Atticus is thrilled at hearing the news about Harry performing at the Grammys. He got even more excited when he found out Harry was taking Y/N as his date. Told them that she would be the prettiest on the carpet, Harry had pouted, asking what about him. Only to agree when Atticus said no one's beauty compares to his Mum's.

Harry had asked Glenne to watch over Atticus, and she eagerly accepted. They let Atticus know, and he was over the moon excited. Atticus knew his Auntie Glenne had a hard time saying no to him.

In a different time, if there was no pandemic, Harry knows Atticus and Y/N would have been the perfect dates for what is supposed to be a joyous night.

Grammy day arrived, and Harry walked the red carpet alone.

It's something all three agreed on, not at all wanting to steal any attention when it was such a big debut for Harry. As much as Harry wanted photos with her, he knew this was the way to go; she would be sitting next to him for the rest of the night, which he was thankful for.

Harry felt comfortable and happy in his red carpet look. He was wearing a green and yellow check tweed jacket and a tartan sweater combo worn, flared trousers, and lavender boa. It was a bit different but entirely himself, and that's all he wanted.

As soon as he's done posing for photos, he has his mask back on and is ushered into his changing room to change for his performance happening very soon.

Y/N is waiting in there chatting with Sarah, and when Harry opens the door, he's taken back by her beauty. Yes, he saw her dressed at home, but she seems like a dream here in this new light. Y/N is wearing a lilac satin backless dress, a long slit going up her left leg. She's wearing gold heels that their wonderful friend Harry Lambert acquired for her. The gold primrose signet ring adorned her right-hand ring finger. A few more that she has gifts from her mother and others she bought for herself, but his attention is on the one he gives her because even as she is in a conversation with someone she's fidgeting with, she has the feel of it under her fingers.

"Clear the room, friends," Jeff announces. "Styles here has to get ready. We can start heading to the stage."

Everyone is up and out in a matter of seconds, Jeff shutting the door behind him, telling him he only has fifteen minutes.

More than enough.

"Are you going to help me or just sit there ogling me?"

She smirks. "If I help, there's no saying you'll get clothes on in time."

Harry feels a twitch in his trousers and knows she's right. He huffs, not bothering to argue, just throwing his lavender boa in her direction.

"I'll always accept a striptease."

"I should have had Jeff kick you out as well," Harry says, not meaning a single word.

Y/N pouts. "Not nice, H."

"Baby, please. No more teasing, not really a fan of going on television with a boner, especially in leather." Harry stops her before she can continue on.

"Alright, I'll behave."

Harry breathes a sigh of relief because he's always so close to caving in. She has that effect on him.

Y/N sits there, turned on by Harry changing his outfit. What she wishes she was home instead because watching and not being able to touch is absolute torture.

Harry shimmy himself into the leather pants wanting to get Y/N to laugh, and it works like he knew it would.

"Got a nice ass, Styles. Might have to take it for a ride."

Harry mutters a fuck, and she's giggling. "It's like you hate me."

"On the contrary, I adore you."

"Yeah, well, hand me the jacket, please."

Y/N gets up, the black leather cropped jacket in hand; she stands behind him, guiding him to slip in his left arm, followed by his right. It rests perfectly on his shoulders; she let her hands slide down his arms before turning him around and getting a good look at the completed fit.

She takes a step back as Harry reaches for the mint feathered boa slipping it over his shoulders before dramatically swinging it over his left shoulder. He poses a hand on his hip.

"What's the verdict?" He's biting back a laugh.

"I'm in love. You should ask for my help in designing a look more often." Y/N's gaze has not left his exposed torso. The butterfly fly tattoo starting back at her, Harry's a bit leaner, but he's never looked, fitter. Definitely, feel lucky she can run her fingers over his abs as soon as they get home.

"You recommended no shirt."

"And look how right I was. Your fans are going to go crazy."

"There's only one person I care about going crazy." He steps forward, pressing a kiss to her neck before trailing up to her lips. Leaving soft kisses, not giving her more, and she needs it. She needs him to push her up against a wall and just take her.

"Trust me, baby. I'm showing so must restraint right now. Fuck, you need to walk out now before you're late."

Harry smirks; he likes knowing the effect he has on her. She's the reason he's wearing leather, having confessed thinking he'd look really good. And right she was. "Need a good luck kiss."

Y/N nods, bringing a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, the heels adding a few extra inches making her aligned perfectly with his plump pink lips. She's gentle as she connects their lips; he wraps a hand around her waist before taking control of the kiss, slipping his tongue inside; she lets out a soft moan as he kisses her with all he has. Harry pulls away, a dimpled grin on his face. "Lots of luck in that kiss." a

She nods, still in a daze. "I'll be watching, baby."

Harry and Y/N walk out hand in hand, masks on as they find Jeff, who directs him to the stage entrance, a whispered I love you and a final kiss. He's walking towards the stage, greeting each of his band members lingering a second longer with Sarah.

Y/N was grateful she was allowed to watch the performance from a hidden side stage with Jeff by her side. Those three minutes of Harry singing, she was left in awe as she always is; he's got a way of capturing your full attention. She let out a gasp when Harry threw the boa and turned to have exposed his chest, a broad smile on her face. Jeff was trying to stifle a laugh next to her, and she knew he would be passing this information along.

She felt lucky to be loved by Harry.

As soon as Harry finished performing, Jeff ushered her to his changing room where she could watch the other performances as they waited for Harry to join them once more before going to sit at the socially distanced tables.

Harry came back, a deep smirk on his face, his mint boa now resting on Mitch's neck. "What you think, love?"

"You were wonderful; you and the band just killed it. I felt like it was my first time listening to it. Those note changes were beautiful." She hugs him, happy to have him in her arms again. "Get changed, not much time."

Harry nods, going to the clothes rack but comes back to give Y/N a kiss. She feels herself melt into his touch. She pulls away and sees his green eyes glistening. "Thank you for being here." Before she can respond, he's walked away and changing into his previous outfit.

Harry is dressed, and Jeff ushers them out. Harry leads, greeting people as they walk by, occasionally stopping for someone. Y/N falls behind, smiling at everyone from behind a mask, she laughs, remembering others can't see it, but hopefully, they feel it. She spots a women's restroom and grabs Jeff's arm to get him to stop. He turns concerned. She leans in close, letting him know she's heading to the restroom and will catch up soon.

Y/N is walking out of the restroom heading down the hall when she stops hearing her name called. She turns and finds it's her good friend Julia Michaels.

"Hi darling," Y/N greets a large smile hiding behind her mask. "You look brilliant." Julia was dressed in a black gown adorned with white patterns resembling seashells and her tattoos on full display. Y/N was in awe.

"Thank you! As do you." She says, pulling her in a hug. "Is that a bit of an accent I hear?"

Y/N laughs. "Don't know about that; I've been living in London for years now. Might be that I've been around my British friends constantly."

"That or-"

Julia is interrupted by a man calling her name. Y/N sees it's her boyfriend, JP Saxe.

"Ah, the beau is calling for you, it seems." Y/N teases.

"Oh bummer, I love chatting with you. I would tell you all about him, but I'd expect the same."

"What do you mean?" She feigns confusion, but Julia sees past her.

"Well, who's your date?"

She can feel her face warm, knowing exactly who she's referring to.

"I came with my boyfriend," Y/N answers proudly.

Before Julia can respond, Y/N feels a hand on her back and turns to find Harry behind her. "Calling for us to head to our seats, nominations up next."

"Okay, H." She smiles, knowing there was a look of concern for her hiding behind the mask.

Harry seems to remember she was speaking with someone.

"Hello, Julia, lovely music. This one always plays it around the house." Harry knocks his hip with Y/N's. "Especially this new song that's nominated, she always had it playing. Soon my son was singing it as well. It meant I had to join in. I don't like being the odd one out."

"Thank you, Harry; I'm glad you could all enjoy my music. We've been doing the same. Fine Line is a gorgeous album. Best of luck tonight." Julia tells him sincerely.

"You as well."

"One last thing between us."

"Of course," he nods.

"She's a special one; take real good care of her." Y/N has never been more thankful for a mask because it hides her face that she is slowly starting to heat up.

"I like to think I've been doing a good job, or she wouldn't have stuck around for two years so far."

Julia doesn't hide her shock, her eyes go wide, and Harry just smirks.

Y/N laughs. "We have been good at laying low. Except for this one, he likes to always be doing something new."

"What can I say? I like to keep busy." Harry shrugs, knowing everyone knows about his next film in London.

"Now we definitely have to grab dinner soon or a zoom date, I don't know. I want to hear all about it." Y/N can tell Julia is curious but overall happy for her.

With that, they bid each other goodbye, and Harry escorts her to their seats.

"Someone is very open," Y/N tells him, adjusting her dress as she sits down.

"She's a good friend of yours but also Niall's. I know we can trust her." Harry tells her honestly.

"I see. We'll see how interviews go soon." Y/N knows Jeff had told them he had to do at least one interview if he didn't win, and if he did, it would just be him addressing the virtual press room.

Harry is sitting in the middle, Jeff to his left andY/N to his right. He's never felt as safe when they name the nominees for the category.

Y/N feels the tight grip Harry has on her thigh, and his left hand is rubbing up and down his pants to dry the sweat she can only imagine is building up. She looks up at his face, but he's calm, but she knows him; there's a storm of thoughts running through his head. Y/N knows there isn't much to help ease, but she can remind him she's there for him. She lifts his hand that was resting on her thigh to her lips and gives it a gentle kiss through her mask, yes he can't feel it, but the sentiment is there. She sets his hand back, fingers now intertwined with hers. Y/N knows he's looking at her and meets his gaze reassuring him with his eyes she loves him.

Rachelle Erratchu is opening the envelope, and in the next few seconds, she will announce the winner for the best pop solo performance.

"Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles!"

Harry sits there shocked, his shoulders dropped, eyes wide, not at all able to hide the shock. He just heard his name called; he just won a Grammy.

In the next second, he's standing up, removing his mask, his nervous smile now able to be seen by the camera. Jeff is quick to pull him in a tight hug. Y/N stands feeling the happiness travel through her entire body.

Harry won.

A mask is no longer hiding his smile, and she knows if she removed her, she'd have a matching smile. Harry hugs her tight, her arms going around his waist; she can feel how fast his heart is beating. Harry is not at all ready to let her go but knows he has an acceptance speech to give.

"You did it, H," she whispers, ushering him to head up the stage.

Harry gets up, letting out a deep breath as he hears the applause continue. He picks up the Grammy for a second before setting it back down. He looks out at the audience, and he's just astounded that he's won.

"Wow, um..." Harry takes a deep breath before starting. "To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much. This was the first song we wrote after my album came out, during a day off in Nashville. I just wanna say thanks to Tom, Tyler, and Mitch, and everyone, Rob Stringer, everyone at Columbia, my manager Jeffrey who always nudged me to be better and never pushed me and thank you so much, and I feel very grateful to be here." He smiles at Y/N. "Thank you to my son, who has been the light in my life and my biggest fan. Everything I do is for him, and I hope I continue to make him proud. I love you, darling boy." Harry knows he's got only so much time left, but there is one last person to thank. He doesn't address her by name, but everyone in that room knows what he says next is for Y/N as he never takes his eyes off of her.

"Thank you for believing in me. I was not the easiest to deal with when we first met, but you're here and have been every step of the way. Thank you for helping me become a better man each day. I adore you." He chuckles, continuing on, "All these songs are fucking massive, so thank you so much; I feel very honoured to be among you, so thank you so much."

Harry walks off stage, leaving the grammy he had just won behind, eager to have Y/N back in his arms. His eyes are set on her; she's standing arms open, ready for him. He melts into her touch, hiding his head in her neck placing a gentle kiss on her exposed neck. "I love you," he whispers.

Y/N softly cradles his cheek as he leans into her touch, her eyes filling with tears of joy. "I love you, H."

Harry pulls away, letting her take a step back as Jeff hugs him tighter than before. He's so happy he places an affectionate kiss on Jeff's masked cheek.

Harry's happy; he knows he didn't need an award to let him know how talented he was, but it was an honor to have his support team by his side as he did receive the award.

Harry had taken Y/N with him to help change, claiming he needed help. Jeff knew better but let them be.

As soon as Harry ushered them into the changing room, he pushed her up against the locked door, ripped his mask off, shoving it in his pocket, kissing down her neck.

Y/n reaches a shaky hand up to remove her mask, letting it fall in Harry's waiting hand to place next to him.

"Kiss me," she breathes.

Harry, never one to deny her, brings his lips to hers. Y/N felt her whole body tingle as he claimed control over her mouth, hungry and intense as if she'd disappear if he would slow down.

Y/N laughs as her hands rest on his shoulder, letting him kiss all the skin she has exposed.

"Baby, you're a Grammy winner." A hand now in his hair as she feels his lips right above the curve of her breasts.

"Just like you."

"Atticus must be so proud," Y/N says, now lost in thought.

Harry pulls back, "As much as I love our baby, please don't mention him as I'm trying to shag you in my dressing room."

Y/N grins nodding, she pushes the plaid jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall on the floor. "Sorry, did you say shag? Is that Grammy fame getting to your head?" She teases

"The only place my head is going is between your thighs." His voice rough, no longer teasing. She can see the lust building in his emerald eyes.

"Guess I'm the real winner," Y/N tells him, pushing up her dress to reveal her black lace panties, Harry's favorites.

"Fuck." Harry trails his hands down her thighs as he sinks to his knees.

Y/N holds her dress up as Harry begins to pull down her panties, letting them fall to her ankles. "Those are too hot to be hidden, baby. Fuck, knowing you had those on the whole time for me has me so hard." He unbuttons his trousers giving himself breathing space.

"Please, baby," Y/N begs, wanting him to give her some kind of release.

"Alright, darling, since we don't have much time."

Y/N has her legs spread open for Harry; her face was flushed, knowing the pleasure Harry would soon bring her. She was wet; she had been since she saw Harry perform in his whole leather outfit; she swears this look will enter her dreams when he's away.

"Love, you're so wet." He smirks, knowing this was for him, but a bit of confirmation never hurt anyone. "All-cause of me?"

"Yes, always wet for you." She breathes out, looking down at him.

Harry leans in, pressing soft kisses on her thigh, getting her to relax, wanting her to enjoy this as much as he's going to. He loves how soft her skin is; he litters kisses as he watches her, still feeling how close he is to where they both want him to be.

Y/N feels like she can't breathe; Harry's teasing always so good but not now. Not when she wants him inside her, but she settles for him eating her out. He's proven more than a dozen times how good he is with his tongue.

"I'm ready, darling. I'm ready to taste you, fuck, you smell amazing, but oh, there's something special about how you taste. Will you let me?" Harry asks, always asking for her consent, never wanting her to feel pressured.

"Yes, please." Harry always knows what she needs; she's happy to relinquish all control to him.

Harry tightened his grips on her thighs, scooting closer. He smiles at how glistening her pussy looks for him. How wet he's made her. He didn't have time for foreplay as much as he wanted to tease her have her withering under his touch. He drove right in, his tongue in between her lips, tasting her sweet juices. It was good, sweet, and just for him.

Y/N let out a moan; Harry wanted more from her; he wanted her a moaning mess. Y/n felt his tongue against her most sensitive spot and felt her knees go weak, fuck; he knew exactly how to bring her the pleasure she seeks.

Harry's eyes were closed, focusing on the noises Y/N was making and savoring the taste.

Y/N has a hand in his hair, her right hand holding up her bunched-up dress. "My winner," she moans out.

"You're always a winner. Fuck, so good." She pants.

"You are….baby" Nothing's making sense. She's lost in her pleasure. Harry was focusing on her clit; he licked at the small peek, knowing she was close.

She pulls harder on his hair, he lets out a moan against her pussy, and it brings her twice the pleasure. "Make me cum, baby." She whines, "Show me exactly why a song about oral sex deserved to win."

Harry, edged on by her words, begins to suck on her clit, letting her feel the ecstasy it brings her. Y/N lost in her pleasure, misses Harry's cursing against her.

"Harry, I'm close." She whimpers out.

"Cum for me, darling." He doesn't slow down, lapping against her pussy, taking everything she gives him. He sucks on her clit, swirling his tongue around as he brings a finger to her hole, gently pushing in, knowing it will drive her over the edge.

"Fuck, you're always a winner. This mouth is always a winner."

Y/N whines out his name, pulling him closer as he licks up all she offered him, letting her ride out her orgasm enjoying every moment. Harry pulls his hand away, setting it on her exposed thigh, drawing small comforting circles, until he's sure she's ridden it through.

She lets out a long sigh as she slides down the door, no longer able to stay standing. Harry grins, guiding her down gently as he sits back on his heels.

"Can I return the favor?" She blinks at him, lust still swimming in her eyes.

Harry blushes but not at all embarrassed. "Watching you cum for me did the job, baby."

She pouts her lips.

"Can treat me to a good time later," he promises; she eagerly nods, already knowing how she'd make him go crazy at him. The taste of him on her tongue later, something to look forward to.

"Think this was the reason you had a third outfit picked." She jokes,

Harry laughs, "Definitely."

Y/N and Harry sit there staring at each other, blissed out in pleasure, taking in the other's smile when a loud knock on the door startles them reminding them where they are.

"When you walk out of here, there better not be a single trace to what you did in there," Jeff tells them.

Harry smirks, "oh Jeffery, who does he take us for?"

Y/N is helped to her feet by Harry, who slips her panties back up her thighs. Y/N walks to the restroom to fix herself while Harry washes his face at the sink provided. Harry is quick to get out of his clothes and into the final outfit of the night. An orange blazer with a white low-cut shirt and plaid pants.

He's ready to step back out and mingle, showing off his girlfriend to everyone who approaches them. Harry stands in front of the mirror looking at the deep red mark on his neck where she left a love bite; he doesn't even remember her giving it to him.

She smirks, seeing him trace his finger over it. Y/N walks up to him, placing the black-feathered boa over his shoulders.

"I could get behind the feathered boas if it means I can leave more kisses like that behind," Y/N tells him as he swings it over his shoulder, adjusting it to hide the mark that would bruise over the next few hours.

"We'll see, love."

Y/N stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress. She smooths her hands over her dress, happy with how she looks. Not at all like she was just given the orgasm of her life. Harry smiles, grateful she was here with him on an important day. He loves her, and he knows she loves him.

"Ready, love?" He stands being her, hand on her waist

She turns her head up to look at him, puckering her lips, waiting for a kiss that Harry happily gives her. "Now, I'm ready."

Y/N and Harry walk hand in hand, masks on.

Harry may not have won any more awards, but he truly felt like he had won it all way before ever hearing his name being called. With a woman like Y/N on his side who was intelligent, beautiful, and independent, constantly pushing him to be a better person every day, there was no way he would ever know what it would be like to lose.

Thank you so much for reading! I adore you. Hopefully, the future allows me to write for Harry, Atticus, and Y/N some more but for now I hope you enjoyed this continued story. <333

[watchmegetobsessed]

Waiting for you - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

i wrote it over like a month ago, but kept it for today, i hope yall will like it! it’s a cute bestfriends to lovers fic, so yeah... happy holidays, hope you are having an amazing time!

word count: 13k

masterlist

Harry Styles has been a household name around your home, but not for the reason many would think. While for the rest of the world he was the famous singer, former member of One Direction and recent solo artist, the guy who performs at the biggest arenas, wins awards and sings his heart out through the radio, for you and your mom he was the goofy, curly haired boy who lived across the street with his mum, sister and stepdad.

You still remember all too clear the first time you met him. You and your mum just moved into your new home after the nasty divorce of your parents, ready to start a new life. You’ve barely turned twelve, it was quite the awkward stage of your teenage years, you were still trying to find yourself on the rocky road of growing up. Moving to a whole new town and switching schools were terrifying and you had quite a few nightmares about possible outcomes of being the new girl in the neighborhood.

You and your mum just finished unpacking the dishes in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She rushed to answer it and you wandered behind her, curiously peeking at the guests under her arm as she held the door open.

“Hi! We saw the trucks and thought we would say hi! I’m Anne and this is my son, Harry,” the nice woman greeted your mum and stepping aside she gestured towards the teenage boy standing next to her.

His green eyes fell to you almost immediately and you forgot to breathe for a moment. You were not the kind to crush that easily on guys, well, not until you laid your eyes on Harry. He smirked at you, nodding in your way in such an easy-going manner and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

Anne and your mum quickly became good friends. She was the rock your mum definitely needed after such a bad year behind her and you were glad she found support in such a wonderful woman as Anne. Their newly funded friendship got stronger day by day until the two families just… simply felt one.

Growing up the Styles siblings and Anne came and go in your home as if they lived there too. On many occasions you came home from school only to find Anne in the kitchen while your mother wasn’t even home. Anne always knew when your mum was working the night shift at the hospital where she was a nurse and always made sure you had a warm dinner on those evenings, often inviting you over to just stay at theirs while your mum was away working. Birthdays, graduations, Easters and Christmases, they were all spent at either yours or at the Styles home, strengthening the bond between the two families.

You have always had a strong friendship with Gemma, but maybe because you were closer in age or for something else, but you became the closest with Harry. Two peas in a pod, as your mums liked to call the two of you. You weren’t just neighbors or good friends, it was clear to anyone and to both of you as well that you were the best of friends. You were there for each other at the best and worst of times, before and after Harry’s launch to stardom. You were there with him all along, sometimes physically, sometimes just through text messages and reassuring calls when he just needed a piece of his home away from home. Late night calls and talks were your usual when he was on the road and he made sure to only talk about his life after you’ve told him everything about yours, even if the most interesting thing was that you were able to buy three socks for the price of two. Harry listened and cared for everything that happened to you, not letting you think even for a moment that he would forget about his best friend when he is on the other side of the planet.

The two of you grew up together and while his life consisted of concerts, screaming fans, telly appearances and award shows, your mundane everydays went on the same was as any normal young girl’s: you graduated from high school, went to uni and then started a career for yourself. As time was moving it became a little more and more complicated to stay as close as you used to, though, both of you terribly busy with your own personal lives, so the calls, texts and meetings became less frequent, but you were always able to pick up from where you left, it was as easy with him as it could be.

Maybe that’s why you grew to love him in a more than friendly way through the years. Slowly, but surely you started to realize what an amazing man he really was –is. It was impossible not to fall for him, however you valued your close friendship more than to just ruin it with dropping a bomb on Harry. You always thought he doesn’t feel the same way, so you were sadly left with your daydreams and fantasies about him only your bedroom walls heard.

This year it’s gonna be the tenth Christmas you get to celebrate together, quite the anniversary. There were only two years when you didn’t see each other during the holidays, the first one because you and your mum spent it in Canada with some relatives that live there, and the second one was because Harry couldn’t come home a few years ago, having a too tight schedule. But this year, everyone made sure to make it back home in time. Harry called you three month before Christmas to check in if you are still gonna coming home.

“Would be an idiot not to. Can’t wait to stuff my head with cookies!” you chuckled.

“Have you found your sweater yet?” Harry questioned, the muffled noise of the traffic around him broke through the line as he was on his way home when he called.

“Not yet. But I’ve been looking. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna win this year,” you smirked in victory.

“Oh, not so fast with the assumptions, little girl!” he warned you making you laugh.

The two of you had a kind of tradition. Every year, you go on mission to find the ugliest Christmas sweaters one could find, and then perform a chosen song at the karaoke machine after dinner, entertaining the rest of the family. Those performances are the best memories you nurse. Your absolute favorite one was just a couple of years ago when Harry’s sweater was filled with weird looking reindeers in quite inappropriate poses, he even added a glittery pair of sunnies and he sang I Want To Break Free from the Queen. Everyone was on the floor laughing as he took the living room by storm as if it was the Maddison Square Garden filled with thousands of screaming fans, while it was just the five of you.

He won that year, Hell, even you voted on him, giving him the cleanest win of all times, but you swore to live up to that performance and you really feel like this year is gonna be your chance to live up to that promise. You have quite some tricks up your sleeves.

These past couple of years you were anxiously waiting for the holidays to roll around, because you knew you would get to spend so much time with Harry and through the year, even with several occasions of the two of you meeting, you missed him dearly. Sometimes you selfishly wished he would have just stayed the boy across the street so your lives could take tracks that run at least close to each other, but you always reminded yourself that his work was his life and you would have never taken away his true passion and happiness. Besides, you love watching him perform from time to time, that was just one of your favorite sides of him, see his eyes shine so bright as he sang to his fans. You used to envy the fangirls, it always seemed like he had a special connection with them, but you realized that you were one of them. You felt the same excitement when he stepped on the stage, you bought all his albums, even though he made sure you’d be one of the first people to get your hands on it. You had a second copy of them, because buying it gave you the extra jolt of happiness and the feeling that you were a tiny part of his success too. You watched all his music videos, knew the lyrics to his songs and cheered on him whenever he won another award. Difference was that at the end of the day you could call him and tell him how proud you were of him and he stared back at you with that beautiful grin, his dimples digging deep in his cheeks, telling you that he wouldn’t be here without you. You always knew he just said it to make you feel special, but he insisted it was the truth.

“I’m telling you. It you weren’t with me I would have gone crazy already, pulling a Justin Bieber or summat. Don’t think you are any less than what you are, that’s just daft.”

Every time he said something along those lines those damned butterflies in your stomach went crazy and you tried your best to ignore them. You didn’t always succeed, but the effort was there.

 Now it’s two days before Christmas and you are already standing in your old room after coming home from London, leaving your small but cozy little apartment empty until the next year. The walls are still the same lilac color you chose when you were fourteen, a twin bed is pushed against the wall under your window, the wardrobe’s door is littered with old pictures from high school and ones you cut out from magazines. You just never got around to take them down and after a while it brought you a comforting sense every time you came home. A warm nostalgia took over you when you saw them, so they eventually stayed.

Your suitcase is lying on the floor as you unpack some stuff you’ll be using often during your stay, but you don’t get far in the packing when you hear an all too familiar voice coming from downstairs. Leaving your stuff as it is you rush down and throw your arms around Anne from behind, who is standing in the kitchen with your mum.

“My sweet angel! How are you?!” she cheers turning around in your hold to hug you back, giving you a tight squeeze before she pushes you away so she can have a good look on you. “Swear you get prettier every time I see you!”

“Stop it, my head’s gonna get big,” you chuckle feeling yourself blushing a little.

“Never gonna stop praising my daughter,” she smiles and gifts you with a cheeky wink.

Anne was never shy to let you know that she thought of you as a second daughter and you still remember how it felt when she called you that for the first time. It felt nice to know that you could count on her no matter what.

The three of you chat in the kitchen, Anne asks you about your job and how things have been going, she hasn’t seen you in a while. You missed the times when you could just go across the street and have a talk with her whenever you wanted, but since you’ve moved to London, Harry wasn’t the only one you didn’t get to see as often as you would have wanted. Your job and life overall got you so busy sometimes, you barely had time to call your own mum.

“Harry is arriving this evening. Wanna come with us to fetch him up at the airport?” she asks you and of course you say yes. You wouldn’t miss the chance to greet him with a bone crushing hug just after he lands.

However, as the time nears when you’d have to leave to the airport, Anne calls you up and asks if you could go on your own.

“I didn’t finish cooking and Gems is in an online meeting. Would you mind if you went alone?” she asks and though it sounds a little made up, you don’t question her.

On your way to the airport you are nervously drumming on the wheel, the thought of seeing Harry excites and worries you a little. It’s been months since you last seen him in the flesh and though you’ve talked plenty of times on the phone and in video calls, it’s just not the same. You find yourself wondering if he still smells the same, if you’ll fit the same way into his embrace as before. When you were younger you often liked to think about the two of you as two pieces of legos when you hugged. Your frame just fitted so perfectly against his body, he was your absolutely favorite person to hug.

Standing in a corner at the terminal, you keep checking the board until his flight’s status changes to landed. Then your eyes are glued to the sliding glass doors, knowing well it’s gonna take him some time to get his bags and walk out, but you are just way too excited to finally see him again.

People start walking through the doors and your head perks up every time you see a slightly tall frame, only to realize it’s still not him. Until it is.

You can’t bite your growing smile back when you spot him, a beanie and the hood of his hoodie covering his mop of hair, sunnies hiding his eyes, but you’d recognize him even from just the tiniest detail. You push yourself away from the wall as you see him look around, probably searching for his mum and sister, because he was already on his way when Anne decided it’s gonna be you who fetches him up, so he doesn’t know about the change.

“Excuse me, can I get a picture?” you ask teasingly walking up to him and for a moment you can tell he believes it’s a fan who recognized him, but his face quickly changes once his eyes land on you.

“Fo’ fuck’s sake, you had me for a second,” he breathes out, his arms already reaching out to pull you against him and you gladly envelop yourself into his hold. “What are you doing here?” he mumbles tightening his arms around you, and you don’t mind it. As you face is pressed into his shoulder you smile when you realize that he still smells the same. Like home.

“Your mum asked me to come and get you because she didn’t finish cooking. But if you ask me she just wanted to surprise you with me. You happy to see me?” you smirk up at him letting your head fall back so you could look into his eyes.

“Always,” he grins before placing a soft kiss to your temple and letting go of you.

The two of you leave the terminal before anyone could recognize him and packing his stuff up into the car you head back home.

You hand your phone over to him once you hit the road so he can be in charge of the music and it’s no surprise when he starts playing Christmas music straight away. Grinning to yourself you glance over at him and see him scrolling through your camera roll like the nosy little gremlin that he is.

“Hey! I did not give you permission to snoop around my phone!” you warn him, but don’t try to snatch it away from him, there’s really nothing he shouldn’t see, besides, half of those pics have been sent to him through messages.

“Just tryna catch up w’ you,” he mumbles under his breath, continuously opening up photos he is interested in. “New couch, eh?” he asks showing you the screen for a second.

“Yeah, bought it a few weeks ago. You like it?”

“Looks comfy. I should try it out sometime.”

“You never sleep on my couch, what are you talking about?”

“Right, you always drag me t’ your bed,” he snorts and you gasp at him, smacking his chest gently.

“That’s so not true! You always just arbitrarily make yourself comfortable in my bed and I don’t have the heart to kick you out,” you correct him.

There hasn’t been many times when Harry crashed at your place, but when he did, he always slept in your bed with you, and the two of you have shared a bed a few other times prior too. It’s nothing new, though it does have a deeper meaning for you than for him, you think. Waking up with Harry snoring lightly next to you, admiring how peaceful and beautiful he is in this intimate state, you just wish you could see him like this all the time.

Harry smirks at you cheekily, scrunching his nose as he chuckles.

“’Cause I wouldn’t want to sleep anywhere else, Love,” he says before turning his attention back to your phone while you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the nickname.

It’s quite late by the time you get home, you’ve run into some traffic, but it just meant more time with Harry. You gladly listened to his stories and you are happy you got some alone time with him. Parking up to your driveway you help him unload his bags before locking the car.

“Wanna go to the Christmas market in the morning? Promised Gemma I’d go with her and Michal,” he asks, slowly walking down the driveway towards his home.

“Uh, sure,” you nod smiling. Not that you had any other plans, the holidays are reserved for family and the Styles’ are family.

“Great, I’ll be here at ten. And thanks for the ride,” he smirks waving goodbye and you watch him cross the street before he disappears in his home and you do the same.

“Y/N? Is that you?” your mum calls out when you walk in.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you ask, hanging your coat before you join her in the living room.

“Not,” she smiles giddily. “Was everything alright at the airport?”

You throw your legs over her lap and she squeezes your ankles playfully.

“Yeah, everything fine.”

“How is Harry?”

“Cheeky and smug, as always,” you huff smirking.

“Can’t wait to see him. I feel like I haven’t seen ‘im in ages.”

“When are they coming over tomorrow?”

“Anne said she’ll come around four to help me cook, the rest I don’t know. Dinner will be done around seven though.”

“I’m pretty sure Gemma and Harry will be here along with Anne,” you snort, knowing well they wouldn’t miss a chance to come over, especially Harry. He has been talking nonstop how he’ll be glued to your hip once he is back home, making up for all the time you’ve spent apart.

“They surely will,” your mum chuckles before you both turn your attention at the telly.

You go to bed way after midnight and finish up the packing you left abruptly when you left to get Harry. Shuffling around in your room you glance out the window and see that the light in Harry’s room is on too. Peeking out you lean against the window’s frame, thinking about the times when the two of you sat in the window, talking on the phone after curfew, keeping your voice down so your parents didn’t wake up, sharing secrets and your silliest thoughts. With Harry, you never felt like you had to keep anything back, he would have never judged you for anything, you could be your true self around him and vice versa.

A tall figure appears at the window and as Harry glances out his window he is quick to see you sitting on the window sill, your head resting against the frame. The two houses are not far away from each other and you see him grinning as he sits at the window as well, pulling out his phone, a moment later yours starts buzzing on the nightstand. You quickly grab it, and go back to the window.

“Creeping on me, eh?” he hums into the phone and you roll your eyes at him.

“Was just admiring the street lights, don’t flatter yourself, your head is getting too big,” you huff, but you can’t push your smirk down.

“Admit it, you were hoping to see me roam around naked, weren’t you?”

“As if I haven’t seen you like that before,” you snort making him laugh too. It’s true, Harry has never been shy to get rid of his clothes and he also doesn’t bother to draw the blinds whenever he is changing. You once saw him butt naked when he was nineteen, and when you told him to close the blinds next time he is changing, he just shrugged with a smug smile.

“’M not ashamed of anything, Love,” he told you and you had to turn away because you were blushing for sure.

“Right, you’re a fan of putting yourself on full display when you’re naked, almost forgot,” you chuckle shaking your head. “Millions of girls have the picture of you, lying naked on their walls.”

“You one of them?” he cheekily asks.

“Nah, doesn’t go well with the vibe of my apartment.”

“Shame. Though I think it would definitely look amazin’ above your bed, Love.”

“Now would it? I don’t know about that.”

“I’ll get you a copy framed,” he smirks and you can see it clear even from the distance. “Y’ know what? I’ll make you an exclusive one. One that nobody else has, how does that sound?”

“I can’t believe you, Styles,” you chuckle shaking your head. “I’m not gonna answer this, just gonna head to bed. You should too.”

“So we’re not sharing any secrets like we used to? Thought you’d have something fo’ me.”

“You know everything, Harry,” you sigh with a soft smile, though your heart skips a beat. He does know everything, except one big, fat, heavy secret you’ve been carrying around for way too long, that will probably stay with you forever.

“Right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Night, Harry.”

“Good night, Love,” he murmurs and you know he is smiling, thought he steps away from the window as he says goodbye and you do the same before ending the call.

 ***

 “Hey! That’s mine!” you protest as Harry steals another roasted chestnut from your little paper bag, but you can’t stay mad at him when he is smiling at you so sweetly.

“Sorry, tastes better when it’s someone else’s.”

“Sure,” you snort and just let him get as many as he wants. You wouldn’t have eaten it all anyway.

It’s quite cold out in the town, but at least there’s no rain or storm, so the weather didn’t try to ruin your little trip to the Christmas market.

Gemma calls out for Harry to show him something and you just keep wandering between the booths, enjoying the atmosphere quite a lot, you have no idea when was the last time you got to come to the market, though you always loved coming when you were younger.

Finishing up your chestnuts you throw the paper bag into a trash can and turn around to find the rest of your little group, spotting Harry and Gemma deep in discussion next to a booth that offers handmade ceramic mugs. As you walk closer it almost seems like as if they were having a fight, which is just odd, they rarely do that.

“Just get your head out of your arse!” you catch Gemma telling her brother who only groans in frustration before he spots you, a smile plastering across his face.

“Hey, there you are!” he beams.

“Everything alright?” you ask looking at them.

“Sure, just Gemma is being a little nosy, is all,” Harry waves in dismiss. You glance over to Gems, but she is already back in discussion with Michal so you decide to drop it. “You ate all the chestnuts?” Harry asks offended, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Well, it was mine, so of course I ate them!”

“Selfish,” he narrows his eyes at you, but you both know it’s just a joke.

You walk further down in the aisle, occasionally stopping at some of the booth when you spot a place that offers hot chocolate in cute little mugs that you can take home with you if you’d like, or just take it back and get your money back.

“Oh look!” you gasp excitedly and head towards the hot chocolate booth. The old lady smiles brightly at the two of you as you take a look at all the choices. “Oh my god, they have caramel flavored!” you cheer, basically already drooling at the thought of a good, caramel flavored hot chocolate.

“What can I get for the lovely couple?” the lady smiles warmly at the two of you and you freeze at her assumption.

“Oh we—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“A caramel flavored and a plain one, please,” he orders, without even batting an eye about how the lady just called you a couple. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the thought, but you try to calm yourself. He probably just didn’t want to get into explaining that you two are not an item and let her think what she wanted.

The nice lady hands you your mug and you take Harry’s as well as he pays for both of them. You would try to argue with him and pay yours, but you are already used to how stubborn he is and he never lets you split anything, it’s always on him.

“Thank you, have a nice day!” Harry calls out to the lady before the two of you leave. You peek at him handing him his mug, looking for any clue that would give away if this little scene got him just as bothered as it did you, but he looks perfectly fine and relaxed, so you decide not to bring it up. You’re sure he didn’t think much of it.

Your little stroll stretches into the afternoon, the four of you decide to have lunch out there too, then you just opt for a walk in town as Gemma wants to do a quick last minute Christmas shopping, so by the time you get home Anne is already over at yours helping your mum with dinner. Tonight you are all eating at yours, then tomorrow it’s the Styles’ turn to host, this is how you agreed this year.

“Woah, it smells amazing!” you call out walking into the house. The delicious smells fill up the whole place and you hear the two women giggling in the kitchen.

“Hi Honey, how was the market?” your mum greets you, a glass of red wine in her hand and the same goes for Anne.

“Great, we have a new mug,” you say holding up the emptied out hot chocolate mug. Stepping to the sink you wash it quickly and drying off you put it away in one of the cabinets.

You stick around in the kitchen and not so much later Harry comes over, the two of you leave your mums alone and get comfortable in front of the telly.

All channels are filled with holiday movies and you don’t mind, really, you like them all even if you’ve seen them a million times, you still find them funny and cute. Harry feels the same way, so when you settle on Love Actually he doesn’t say a word.

What startles you is that he grabs your ankles and pulls your legs over his lap, a small shriek escaping your mouth since you weren’t expecting him to do that. You’re sitting sideways, your legs are bent at the knee and Harry is kind of hugging them as his eyes are glued to the screen.

You find it rather hard to focus on the movie when Harry’s fingers keep fidgeting on your legs, they keep running up and down, sometimes he lays his hands flat on your knees, there’s no spot he hasn’t touched since you started watching the movie.

About an hour into the film he turns to you and you look at him in question.

“’M in the mood to cuddle,” he announces and starts moving around, not even letting you protest as he basically crawls to your lap, resting his head on your stomach as the two of you lay on the couch.

“Am I now your personal pillow?” you ask chuckling, but you wouldn’t want him to move for anything. Feeling him weigh down on you just feels so warm and simple but amazing.

“The best one,” he mumbles, bringing a hand to your side as you let your fingers comb through his curls.

You keep massaging his scalp and he lets out soft moans when you go over a soft spot, you can’t help but chuckle as he melts under your hands. His fingers start drawing circles on your side and the movie is long forgotten by you, all you can focus on is how great it is to have Harry so close to you. He is known to be a physical person, you are used to hugs and touches, but it seems like he is a little needier now than the usual.

You don’t mind it though, you just try to enjoy the moment, because it can end anytime.

Gemma and Michal come over a little before seven, and while your mums finish up the cooking the four of you set the table. You grab the crystal glasses and start placing them to the table, Harry lending you a hand. Once the table is all set you shuffle into the kitchen to see if there’s anything you can help with, Harry following you behind, placing a hand to the small of your back.

As you stand and wait for you mum to finish up the meals so you can help carry them to the table you feel Harry’s hand wander over to your hip, giving it a squeeze as he stands closer, so his chest is pressed against your back.

“Harry?” you ask a little out of breath.

“Hm?” he innocently hums.

“What’s with you today?” Turning your head to the side your eyes lock with his, but he just shrugs smiling.

“Guess I just missed yeh a lot.”

“You’re weird,” you chuckle shaking your head, but don’t make an effort to push him away. His touch feels way too good to put an end to it and you just want to be selfish a little longer.

His hands leave you when the two of you help to bring the food to the table, and you almost wish they would just return, but you gotta swallow the thought.

The food is amazing, as always. You all sip on some wine, just having a genuinely good time, enjoying that all of you are back at one place, something that rarely happens now that all three of you kids are all grown up.

At one point Harry rests his arm on the back of your chair, no one seems to notice but you. All these little things have been driving you crazy all day and your mind seems to be playing a nasty game with you. There’s no way Harry thinks of these details more than what they are, a friendly gesture towards an old friend of his.

When Gemma is telling a story about some weird guy she met at work Harry reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear, his finger lingering over your neck a little longer than you would have expected. Turning to face him you give him a questioning look, not sure what to think about his needy and touchy self all of a sudden.

“What?” you mouth him, but he just smiles at you absentmindedly, curling a strand of hair around his finger, playing with it for a moment before letting go of it and going for another lock. You reach up and pull his hand away, feeling yourself heating up from his touch, but when you are about to let go of his hand he grabs yours, lacing your fingers together with yours as he rests them on his thigh.

“Harry…” you breathe out, glancing at the others, relieved to see that they are not paying much attention to the two of you.

“What? Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks with a smug smirk and you roll your eyes at him.

“As I said, you’re weird,” you mumble under your breath looking down at your now empty plate. Harry gives your hand a squeeze.

“But like, the good kind of weird, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you chuckle shaking your head at him.

You try to tell yourself he is just needy because it’s been so long since you last saw each other. It can’t be more, you push even the smallest thought to the back of your mind, though it surely lingers there throughout the evening.

He helps you with washing the dishes, you stand arm to arm at the sink as you scrub the plates and hand over to him for drying. He gently hums to himself all along, swaying his hips, bumping against yours. At first you resist it, but then you catch the rhythm and start moving along, so your hips meet in the middle before swinging to the opposite side.

“What’s the song?” you ask finishing up the last plate.

“Just something random,” he shrugs smirking over at you. You hand him the last plate, he is still singing, making up gibberish lyrics to his song and once he puts the plate down he throws the kitchen cloth to the counter and easily grabs your waist pulling you against him as he starts swaying with you to his impromptu song. You let out a small shriek at the sudden movement, but eventually melt into his hold. The humming slowly turns into an all too familiar melody as Harry starts singing Sweet Creature into your ear, slow dancing in the kitchen while you hear your mums and Gemma laugh outside somewhere.

Your hands run up his arms and stop behind his neck as you lock your fingers and let him hold you close, his palms are pressed to your waist, fingers gently stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You take a deep breath and his cologne fills your nose, one of your favorite scents, sometimes you just wish you could spray it on your pillow so it would always smell like him.

“Sweet creature, wherever I go, you bring me home…” he softly sings, leaning back just enough for your eyes to meet. It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest, it’s not the first time you feel so intimidated by him, like you could pass out any moment, but this is a little different. As if his eyes were telling you another story, but you can’t completely make up the words.

“Sweet creature, when I run out of road, you bring me home, you’ll bring me home.” He finishes the song, hums the closing melody and you watch him in complete awe. Your lips part when you catch his gaze move down to them and you swear you see him leaning closer, as if he is about to kiss you. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he is so close, just a few more inches and you’d taste those perfect lips of his, the ones you’ve been dreaming about for way too long.

It almost happens, it seems, but just when that last push is about to set in Gemma waltz into the kitchen and you step back faster than light, pushing him away even though the sudden lack of his touch is more painful than you were expecting.

“You guys—Oh, what’s up?” she asks stopping at the door and you feel yourself getting redder with each passing moment, the heat crawling up your neck, ears cheeks, right to the top of your head. What were you thinking? You let yourself believe Harry would ever kiss you, this whole scene was nothing more than just a friendly moment the two of you were sharing.

“I’m—sorry,” you breathe out making your way out of the kitchen, right up to your room to have some well needed space.

“Way to ruin everything,” Harry snickers at his sister.

“You joking? You wanted to kiss her in her mum’s kitchen?” Gemma snaps at him in disbelief.

“We were having a moment,” he mumbles rubbing his face with his hands. “Up until you stomped in with your big mouth.”

“Well, if you were havin’ a moment, just make it happen again.”

“As if it’s that easy, Gemma!” he scoffs throwing his hands in the air.

“Man up and tell her how you feel, don’t have to complicate it too much,” she shrugs before walking out and leaving her brother alone. Harry growls in frustration, the gears in his head turning wildly as he is trying to figure out how to come clear to you about his feelings.

 Meanwhile, up in your room you get out your laptop and busy yourself with checking up on messages and emails you’ve been ignoring, hoping that the uneasy feeling in your chest will ease very soon. Your hands were shaking when you locked yourself up in your room, but as you get focused on other tasks you slowly gain your balance back.

You kind of even forget that the Styles’ were over, you only realize that you abruptly pulled yourself out of the evening when there’s a soft knock on your door.

“Come on in!” you call out and a moment later Harry’s head pops in, eyes softly falling on your sitting figure on the bed. “Hey,” you smile at him faintly.

“Hey. Thought you were sleepin’s or summat.” Coming inside he closes the door behind him then sits on your plush rug in the middle of the room.

“Just… sorted some work related things out,” you sigh.

“Working during the holidays? Tha’s not healthy.”

“I know, I’m done,” you smile shutting the laptop down and putting it aside. “Sorry I disappeared, I just—“

“No worries,” Harry shakes his head. “Mum and Gems went home, they thought you were sleeping too, tha’s why they didn’t say goodbye.”

“Oh, alright.”

“But I thought we could have a sleepover,” he peeks at you with a boyish smile.

“What, like we did in middle school?” you chuckle.

“Yea, thought it would be fun.”

“Well, I don’t think my bed would fit us comfortably and we don’t have the mattress anymore that you used to sleep on,” you tell him looking around.

“Nonsense, I’m not tha’ big,” he insists hopping to his feet and throwing himself on the bed, ignoring that you’re already there. His body takes up more than half on the bed , limbs wrapping around you as he brings you down to the mattress next to him, you can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips.

“You’re like a gigantic baby, Harry!” you laugh as he keeps you down on the bed with his arm.

“It’s perfectly fine for two people,” he mumbles with a smirk, closing his eyes as his head sinks into your pillow.

“Do you ever get no as an answer?” you ask looking at him in awe. You can never get used to seeing him so up close, like not many get to.

“No,” he huffs in satisfaction, his arm bringing you closer to him and you just giggle at him.

“I’m not sleeping just yet, gotta have a shower first.”

“Do what you want, I’ll be here,” he mumbles but you snort at him.

“You’re not sleeping in my bed without having a shower,” you tell him before you grab your pajamas and head to the bathroom.

You have a quick shower and get done with all your evening business. Returning to your room you find Harry sitting on the floor, his back against the side of the bed as he is scrolling through his phone.

“Does mum know you’re staying over?” you ask him as you throw your used clothes into the hamper, moving around the room while feeling his eyes on you.

“Yeah. ‘S all good.”

“You need a towel?”

“Yes please,” he says pushing himself up from the floor.

“Clothes?” you ask with an arched brow. He just grins at you and it’s enough of an answer. “Here,” you give him the shirt and sweats he has left at yours quite some time ago, along with a clean towel.

“Thanks,” he smirks before leaving to occupy the bathroom.

He doesn’t take long in there, you’re lying in bed already when he returns, smelling like your shower gel, strawberry and melon.

He throws his clothes to the chair in the corner and then lies beside you on the bed. You scoot over to the wall to give him space, but he is quick to bring you closer to him once he has made himself comfortable. You lay your head on his shoulder as you are both scrolling through your phones.

When you had enough, you throw yours to the nightstand, and stay cuddled up to his side.

“Do you remember the last time I slept here?” he asks tossing his phone to the nightstand and bringing his arms around you.

“Mm, was it at my twentieth birthday?”

“Yeah. You were so wasted,” he chuckles and you smirk to yourself

“But you took good care of me.”

“I did. You were so cute, rambling about how much you love me when I took you home from the pub.”

You bite into your bottom lip. You still remember that night vividly. Your birthday party had gone a little wild and you had gotten drunker than you intended to. Luckily, he was there to bring your home and he stayed in the bathroom with you as you threw up everything you ate and drank that evening. Then he made you take a shower, got you fresh clothes out and helped you get into bed. He slept next to you that night, holding you in his arms, gently caressing your back and upper arm as you fell into your drunken slumber. In the morning you told yourself he just did what any other friend would do, helping you out when you were clearly knocked out, but he made you breakfast in the morning since your mum was working all night and morning and he stayed over later the afternoon to make sure you were alright.

What you told him in your drunken state about loving him, it wasn’t just your friendly side, it was your drunken self coming clear to him, telling him that you are in love with him, but he didn’t take it seriously and you were too ashamed and awkward to even bring it up to him after that, so it was all forgotten very soon.

Following that you planned on telling him how you feel, several times. You even wrote a little speech you planned to give him when the time comes, but you couldn’t do it. The fear of losing him if he doesn’t feel the same was stronger than you expected and every time you had the chance to come clear, you chickened out. The thought of losing him as a friend is way worse than having to push your feelings down... forever. You just can’t imagine your life without Harry in it and you can’t risk losing him.

The two of you talk for quite a while, laughing about the good old times, until you both fall asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night you wake up and feel Harry wrapped around you, his head lying on your chest as he is snoring softly. He truly is like a big baby, an arm thrown over your stomach, his legs tangled with yours. Good Lord, how amazing it feels to have him so close to you!

Reaching up you tangle your fingers through his hair gently so he doesn’t wake up, his soft curls glide between your fingers easily and lifting your head you kiss the top of his head before letting yourself drift back to sleep.

When you open your eyes the next time the situation is the opposite, you are the one cuddled up to Harry’s side who is scrolling through his phone with one hand, keeping the other one on your arm.

“Mornin’, sleepy head,” he chuckles softly when he sees you awake.

“Mmm, what time is it?” you ask letting your head rest on his chest a little longer.

“Quarter to nine. You can sleep a little more if you want, it’s not that late.”

“No, I promised mum I’d help her wrap gifts,” you sigh rolling over to your stomach as you push yourself up to your elbows to look at him. “Love the double chin you got going there,” you tease him sleepily and he just smirks.

“Yea? Quite cute, right? Worked a lot on it,” he jokes running his finger over it before letting out a chuckle. “Ready for our battle today?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. You are going down this year, Styles,” you tell him pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Harry only pushes himself further on the bed enough to rest his head against the headboard.

“Oh really? I wouldn’t be that sure about tha’,” he warns you, but you are feeling pretty confident about your performance this year. There’s no way he can top it.

“We’ll see. Alright, I need a coffee. Want something for breakfast?” you ask him crawling out of the bed.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Your mum is already in the kitchen, sipping on her morning coffee while reading the paper. She doesn’t find it even a bit weird that Harry spent the night at yours, it’s been quite the usual for you. Harry helps you make eggs and bacon and the three of you eat together, having a lovely time and you genuinely feel like it’s just like in the good old times when you were still living home and Harry wasn’t Harry Styles, but the boy from across the street.

He goes home after breakfast to help his own mum with the cooking for tonight’s dinner and you don’t do much for the rest of the day, just spend time with your mum, watch movies and relax. It’s nice to unwind after such a busy year behind you.

Not long before five you go to take a shower and get ready to head over to the Styles’ and you pack everything you’ll need for the evening: gifts, ugly sweater, accessories. Harry is going down this year for sure.

It’s a little past six when you and your mum walk across the street, Anne’s Christmas lights are putting the little town house into the spirit for sure. You don’t even ring the bell, just walk straight in, like you always do. The Christmas tree stands tall in their living room and the table is already nicely set. Gemma and Michal are snuggled up on the couch while Harry is helping Anne in the kitchen with the finishing touches.

“I’m rooting for you this year,” Gemma winks at you when you set down your bag in the corner that has everything you’ll need for your performance.

“He’s gonna lose this round,” you smirk proudly, very sure in yourself.

Harry greets you with a bright smile and a tight hug when he walks into the living room, as if you didn’t just see each other a few hours earlier.

When the food is ready you all sit down to eat, and though you’re trying your best to focus on the conversation, you’re getting excited about tonight’s karaoke battle.

“Anxious much?” Harry asks you quietly.

“Why are you asking?”

He doesn’t answer, just places a hand to your thigh stopping it from shaking, making you realize you’ve been probably bouncing it all along. He smirks at you as you just roll your eyes at him.

“’S okay, you can handle one more year of losing,” he teases you and you give him an arched eyebrow.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Harry,” you warn him, but he just squeezes your thigh again before bringing his hands back up to the table, leaving you a little breathless with his touch.

You all help clean up the table after dinner and when it’s done, you gather in the living room to open gifts.

When Harry’s career launched, the first few years you felt anxious about gifting him, because you felt like you couldn’t give him enough. He had all the money and bought everything he needed for himself, there wasn’t much you could give him. But when one time, you admitted to him this struggle of yours he assured you that it doesn’t matter what you give him, it’ll always be precious to him.

“You thought about me, you took the time to buy something for me, and that’s more than enough, Y/N,” he told you and though it took you time, but you got used to it. Especially when you saw the same excitement in his eyes every time you gifted something to him, you slowly but surely realized he wasn’t expecting a Gucci suit, but a thoughtful gesture.

Gathering in the living room you open the presents one by one and just as always, everyone was quite creative with the gifts. You can’t help but still feel a little anxious when Harry grabs his gift from you. Giving you an excited look he unties the little bow on the top and tears the wrapping paper off.

“Y/N!” he breathes out, eyes softening as he pulls the knitted cardigan out of the box.

“I always saw you wearing all sorts of cardigans and so I finally had a reason to learn how to knit, so I thought I would make one for you,” you ramble as he holds up the baby blue cardigan that has little daisies all over the front. It took you an entire week to just make the daisies, you worked on the whole cardigan for more than two months, usually in the middle of the night, staying up until unholy hours to finish in time.

But Harry’s smile is worth it all, he is beaming, clearly so in love with what you made him, so you breathe out relieved. He then puts it aside and wraps his arms around you pulling you into the tightest hug.

“Thank you, I love it so much,” he mumbles and kisses your temple and you breathe in his sweet scent, burying yourself in his embrace, hugging his waist.

When you part, Harry reaches for a box from under the tree and hands it to you, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. You can tell he wrapped the gift himself, the silver wrapping paper is a little uneven, but the huge rainbow colored bow on the top is the perfect touch that makes it like a piece of him.

You carefully tear the paper off, peeking inside you just see a plain box that doesn’t give much away. Glancing up at Harry you see how he is anxiously biting his bottom lip, even though you’d be happy with a gift as small as a candle. It’s the thought that counts.

“I-I wasn’t sure if this was the one you mentioned to me, so I hope it’s gonna be alright,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on your hands as they open the box, while you try to think back what you have told him about that caught his attention, but you just can’t recall what you wanted to get so badly you told Harry about it.

As you open the box you don’t process what it is immediately, the plastic wrapper making it hard to figure it out, but when you carefully pull out the object, you gasp in surprise.

“Harry!” you breathe out as you pull off the plastic of the old, vintage polaroid camera. It’s not one of these new types you can buy in stores easily, this is a classic, must have quite a history behind it.

Now you vaguely remember talking about longing for an oldschool, vintage camera, but it was months ago and you’ve forgotten about the whole thing since these devices cost a fortune because there aren’t many left from them. But now there’s one in your hands, because Harry not only listened to you, but he remembered and went out of his way to find you one in amazing condition.

“This must have cost a fortune!” you huff, your heart pounding in your chest, though you already know it doesn’t matter to him.

“This face is worth every penny,” he smiles at you softly before you throw yourself at him for another round of hugging. This man surely knows how to have you wrapped around his fingers.

The two of you sit on the floor as you figure out how to make the camera work, Harry bought everything needed, so you have a few packs of films as well. When it’s all done you bring it up to your face and aim it at Harry. It takes him a moment to realize that you’re about to snap your first photo and he tries to snatch the camera away, but it’s too late, the flash goes off and the device pushes out the undeveloped picture.

“You wasted your first snap on me?” he protests rubbing his eyes after the flash blinded him for a little.

“It’s not a waste,” you tell him as you patiently wait for the picture to finally appear.

Slowly, the colors start to show and in a couple of minutes Harry’s face appears, his hand reaching in the direction of the camera, looking out of focus, only his face appearing clearly. He looks so delicate, his eyes dazzling as a soft smile plays on his lips. This moment now will live forever not just in your mind, but on this photo.

 Harry goes out with his karaoke performance this year for sure and you’d be actually anxious about him winning if only you didn’t have the absolutely best performance right in your pocket.

His sweater this year features some really ugly looking penguins and a horroristic reindeer on the back, it’s really ugly and you can’t even imagine who thought it would be fine to make it and then sell it. His choice of music is also excellent, he has a great eye for songs you’d never imagine him perform and then shock everyone with it. This year, he chose Rude Boy by none other than Rihanna, and it’s fantastic, no one can make it through the song without crying. Harry makes sure to put on his best show, even dancing and twerking unapologetically, trying everything to win the battle and you are amazed by his effort. Above all the fun and jokes, he nails the song, that’s undeniable. It always baffles you how he can just slay any and all genres, even the ones that stand a million miles away from his style.

When the song is over, you all cheer for him, because he truly deserves it. He grins down at you in victory, but you just give him a challenging smirk.

“You can just give up now, if you want,” he teases you as you stand up from the couch and the two of you trade places.

“Oh, I think you should be the one to worry about losing,” you warn him grabbing your bag. Stepping to Gemma you whisper into her ear, instructing her to put on your song when you call out from the bathroom, since you are planning on do a grandiose entrance. When she hears what song you’ll be singing she gasps.

“Oh my fucking God, no way!” he looks at your with wide eyes.

“What? What is it?” Harry asks, dying to know what you just told his sister, but you shake your head at him.

“Patience,” you tell him before locking yourself up in the bathroom.

This year, you didn’t find the sweater, the sweater found you. On one of your thrift tours, you were digging up a huge pile of clothes when you came right across it and you knew what you needed to do.

Putting on the sweater you fix up your hair quickly before putting on your party glasses, the one that lights up if you switch it on. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror and smirk at your reflection knowing well you’ll have everyone dead when you walk out.

“Gemma! You can start it!” you call out with your hand on the doorknob, waiting to hear the music. Gemma quickly starts in and you haven’t even stepped out, you can hear a round of gasps.

Best Song Ever blasts through the speakers and you walk out trying your best to imitate a younger version of Harry, wearing the absolute ugliest Christmas sweater ever, that has the faces of One Direction all over it, filling up every inch of the fabric, and all of them have poorly photoshopped Santa hats on, it’s just literal trash and ridiculously perfect for the battle.

You grab the mic and start singing as everyone screams in the room. You jump, sing and even do the dance moves the boys do in the original music video, and when you look at Harry you see him staring at you in disbelief and total defeat. Everyone knows you won, nothing can top this performance ever and you could burst from the sweet feeling of victory.

By the end of the song everyone is up on their feet dancing and singing with you, a mini party forming in the middle of the living room and you all scream the last lines as the song comes to its end.

“I think we don’t even need to vote this time,” you say when the music stops, everyone screaming in agreement while Harry stares down at you, trying to hide his growing smirk.

“Where did you even find this?” he asks chuckling as he takes a better look at the sweater.

“At a thrift store, it called out my name, knew it’d be perfect.”

“It really is ugly, if I’m being honest,” he sighs, his eyes meeting yours again. “And the song… I accept defeat, you earned this victory, Y/N,” he tells you bowing and admitting your victory.

 Later that night everyone is so keen on watching Holiday, you agree to stay even though you feel your eyelids heavily weighing down, threatening to close with each passing moment. You let your head rest on Harry’s shoulder and he presses his cheek against the crown of your head.

It’s not a surprise you fall asleep halfway into the movie, but what you weren’t expecting is to wake up and find yourself not on the couch anymore, but in Harry’s bed. It’s dark, only the moon is shining through his windows and as you turn to the right you see that he is sleeping peacefully next to you on his back, one arm spread next to him, hand hanging from the edge, the other one resting on his stomach, rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

Squinting your eyes you look at the digital clock on his dresser, it reads 3:23 am so you’ve been asleep for quite a few hours now. You don’t even remember him bringing you up here, but you’re definitely not mad that he didn’t bring you home, just up to his room.

Rolling to your side you give yourself a moment to adorn his beauty without fearing he would catch your wandering eyes. Everything seems so perfect about him, the line of his nose, his cupid’s bow that delicately rolls into her lips. The crease between his eyebrows, his soft skin on his cheeks, down his neck that runs into his broad shoulders and inked, strong arms. You truly think there’s no man that could compare to him and you are lucky enough to live your life so close to him, be able to touch him, hear his voice whenever you miss him, see his smile and share a connection with him.

It’s so silly, but you think of him as your personal ray of sunshine in your life. Just the smallest things about him can brighten your worst day, he’ll always have a special place in your heart, no matter where life takes the two of you.

Watching him sleeping you allow yourself to break free from your doubts and fears and scooting closer you shyly curl up to his side, your head resting on his shoulder, but you can’t even make yourself comfortable before you feel him moving under you.

Sucking on your breath you think he’ll push you away, not wanting you so close, but instead, he pulls his arm from under you, curling around your frame as he pulls you tight to him, almost making you lie on top of him. Your whole body is pressed against him and you mingle a leg between his long ones under the soft sheets. You let out a long huff at the warm touch of his body against your skin, completely lost in him.

“You alright?” he mumbles in his sleep laced voice, his eyes remain closed.

“Yeah. Is this okay?” you nervously ask as you lay your hand flat on his stomach. He brings his hand that was hanging from the bed on his other side and covers yours, as he squeezes you tight to his side.

“’M all yours,” he breathes out, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You’re sure he didn’t mean it like that, but it warmed your heart to hear it from him and you let your mind play with the thought that there was more behind his words than a friendly manner.

Nuzzling your head into his chest you close your eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat you let yourself fall back asleep.

 Your morning is filled with coffee, pancakes, laughter and great company. Harry doesn’t let you leave without having breakfast with them, so you sit with the Styles family and laugh about the craziest stories from your teenage years.

“Remember when we tried to run away?” Harry grins at you, his red mug that had white polka dots all over it in his hands as he eyes you.

“Oh, how could I forget that?” you huff and Gemma turns to you with surprise in her eyes.

“Wait, I didn’t know about that!”

“Because we didn’t get too far,” Harry laughs. “We were, what, like fifteen?”

“Yeah, it was a few weeks after my fifteenth birthday,” you nod smiling.

“I had a fight with mum about God knows what, then stormed over to Y/N’s and talked her into running away. So we packed our backpacks and left.”

“Where did you go?” Michal asks with an amused grin as he listens to the story.

“We didn’t want to go into town, running into anyone we know, so we thought we would just go straight out to the meadow that’s there,” Harry says gesturing towards the window. The edge of the town is not so war, and a huge meadow lies there, a little stream running across it. “We walked for quite long, but then it started to get dark and we had nowhere to go, so we just ended up coming back home. No one even noticed we were gone, they thought we just went out to bike or something,” he finishes laughing.

“You knew about this?” Gemma asks Anne.

“Yeah, he came clear the next day, thinking he would piss me off with it, but I didn’t care, he came back for dinner, so it was alright,” Anne explains laughing.

It’s been so long since it happened, but I still remember it vividly, only that it was a more dramatic memory back then, now I can only laugh at it.

“We should go for a walk today,” Harry prompts to you.

“Wanna run away again?” you tease him.

“Always,” he chuckles.

You help cleaning up and agree with Harry to meet outside in an hour to take a walk to the meadow. Going home you take a shower and wash the dishes your mum left in the sink when she left for her morning shift. You put on a pair of boyfriend jeans, a warm sweater and your jacket with your trusty boots and you walk out the house right when Harry steps out as well. He grins in your way as the two of you meet in the middle of the street. He holds his arm out for you.

“M’ lady?” he smirks as you link your arm with his and the two of you head out for your little walk. It’s a gloomy day, might rain later as well, but it’s dry so far, so you’re just hoping to get home before it starts raining. Your runaway attempt wasn’t the only time the two of you came out here, it was kind of your place when you felt like having a break from everyone else. You biked out here, brought your favorite snacks and just ran around, enjoying the stillness.

However it also holds a bitter memory as well.

A little further down among the trees happened Harry’s first kiss and you witnessed it, feeling your heart break to a million pieces when you saw him lock lips with someone who wasn’t you.

Debby Hamilton was a friend of yours in sixth grade, you’d say, your only friend beside Harry and the three of you often hung out together around that time. Debby was a delight, you always desired to be more like her, boys liked her and she knew it damn well, but it didn’t make her cocky and egoistic. You always thought Harry had a crush on her, why would have he? They kind of looked cute together.

It was a Friday afternoon and Harry asked if you wanted to come out and listen to his new cassette he got for his old Walkman he refused to get rid of as technology was evolving. You figured he’d want Debby there as well so you invited her along, but didn’t tell Harry. He never made a move on Debby and you thought he was just looking for the right time.

That afternoon, you were supposed to meet them out there at five, but you didn’t leave until half past five and it takes about twenty minutes to get out there. Though you gave them the alone time technically, it still startled you when you found them under one of the oak trees, Debby leaning her back against the tree as Harry stood in front of her. She was smiling up at him sweetly, saying something to him and you were just about to call out for them and apologize for being late when Harry ducked his head and kissed Debby right in front of your eyes.

That was your first and probably worst heartbreak and you were only twelve. You felt betrayed, hopeless and naïve to think Harry would ever have a thing for you when there were girls like Debby. You left without letting them know you were there. When Harry asked you later why you didn’t come you told him you felt sick to your stomach, which wasn’t a total lie, you had quite the nausea after seeing Harry with Debby, but he didn’t have to know all the details.

He later told you about kissing Debby and you pretended like you didn’t know about it. However they never dated and not long after their kiss Debby drifted away from the two of you. Not that you minded, you had a bitter feeling every time you had to look at her after that, jealousy raging in your chest knowing that she got Harry’s first kiss.

He didn’t bring it up after and you weren’t keen on talking about it, but you still know which tree they were standing under and now as you near the area you see that it still stands tall near the tiny stream.

Peeking up at Harry you see that his eyes are focused on the same tree, but then he catches you looking.

“Memories?” you innocently ask, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t even know why you asked. It’s been over a decade since that kiss, you are both adults, but you still can’t help the sadness that washes over you at just the thought, why would you want to get him talk about it now?

“’S just… that’s the tree I kissed Debby when I was twelve,” he mumbles with a shrug. Biting into your bottom lip you look at the old oak tree nodding your head and before you could stop yourself, you speak up.

“I know.”

“What? How would you? I never told you,” Harry asks stopping, a puzzled look pulling on his face.

“Well I… It doesn’t matter,” you sigh, regretting ever opening your mouth.

“It does. Tell me!” he pleads standing in front of you.

“I know it, because… I was here.”

“You what?”

“I came, I was just very late. And when I arrived you two were standing there and I saw you kiss. I thought I shouldn’t interrupt whatever was happening so I went home and let you two be,” you explain, changing it up a little bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why is it important that I saw it? It doesn’t change anything, right?” you ask with a smile that you intended to look innocent, but deep down it’s filled with pain.

Harry opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but then remains silent and you are done talking about it, so you just quietly keep walking, Harry catching up with you a few moments later.

It’s awfully quiet after your revelation, it seems like Harry is deep in his thoughts and though you’re dying to know what’s occupying his bright thoughts, you’re kind of afraid you’d hear something you didn’t want to.

The two of you soon head back home and slowly, but you forget about the whole Debby thing. Harry starts talking again, but he looks a little keyed up still when you reach your street.

“Wanna come over later?” you ask standing on the pavement in front of your house, it’s just an innocent question. Harry nods his head.

“Sure. Is your mum working?” he asks glancing at the house, though he knows she is, the car is not on the driveway.

“Yeah. She’ll be home around six.”

He nods again and you want to ask if he is alright, but you decide not to. You share a quick hug before he heads over to his home and you do the same. The house waits for you in silence and when the door clicks behind you, it weighs down on you heavier than you were expecting. You hang your jacket, kick your boots off and throw yourself to the couch, covering your eyes with your arm as you huff out in frustration. You feel silly for getting upset about such a small thing even after so much time, but you just can’t help it.

You barely realize the sound of the front door opening, taking your arm off your eyes you see Harry walk in, eyebrows furrowed, a worried look on his handsome face.

“Harry—“ “I was waiting for you that day,” he simply says as you sit up with wide eyes, confused about what he is really talking about.

“What?”

“That day, we agreed to meet out there to listen to my new Stevie Wonder cassette, but you didn’t show up, Debby did even though I didn’t invite her out there.”

“Well, I did, thought you wanted her there too,” you explain, startled by the situation.

“I would have invited her if I wanted her to be there, but I wanted to be with you. Only you.”

“I-I’m sorry?” you breathe out, not seeing where he is going with it.

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he huffs and he is right. You don’t. “I wanted to meet you, but you never came, or at least I thought. Then Debby showed up, I was frustrated that you weren’t there and she was being all nice, telling me how cute I looked when I was worried and it all just happened so fast and… I didn’t even want to kiss her.” He looks properly upset telling you the story and he takes a deep breath before his eyes meet yours with a hard stare. “I wanted to be with you,” he repeats.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

He shakes his hair, not even letting you finish, because he knows what you wanted to say and that you still don’t understand the meaning behind his words.

“Y/N, I wanted to kiss you,” he then finally says and you suck on your breath as he continues. “Well, not right then and there, but I’ve been meaning to kiss you, I just didn’t know when. I thought that if we have a moment that afternoon I’d do it, but you never came and I was mad and disappointed. I hated myself for kissing Debby, because I didn’t really want to, it just… happened. I wanted to tell you, and I intended to do it when I told you we kissed, but you acted so happy, I figured you didn’t feel the same way about me as I did for you. So I didn’t tell you the rest, but…” He sighs in defeat, looking for words, but he ran out.

“Why are you telling this to me now?” you ask a little out of breath, your head feeling heavy at the new information you just heard.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw us and why did you go home without a word?” he asks ignoring your question.

“I… don’t—“

“Don’t try to lie.”

Gulping hard you lick your dried lips as you stare back at him.

“Because I was… jealous.” Your voice comes out only as a whisper. Harry’s lips part as he takes two steps closer to you.

“You had feelings for me?” he asks and you just nod your head, not trusting yourself with your voice. “Do you still have feelings for me?”

“I do,” you whisper your answer and Harry lets out a sharp breath as he leaps across the room in your way. You jump to your feet, thinking that he’ll lash out on your for keeping it a secret and you open your mouth to explain yourself, but you never get to speak up because as Harry reaches you, one hand snaps to the back of your neck, the other one to your waist, yanking you against him as his lips crash to yours.

You gasp in surprise, but it doesn’t take long to kiss him back, your numb mind blindly reacting to his sudden action. Your hands snake up to the back of his neck as you pull him closer, returning his hungry kisses. His soft lips feel so smooth and warm against yours and when his tongue runs along your bottom lip you whimper letting your tongues meet in the middle.

He is intoxicating and it doesn’t help that your adrenaline level is up in the sky, you’ve fantasized about it way too many times, and now that it’s happening your body is burning in flames. He kisses you all over and over again, his body pressing against yours hard and when he even leans in making you lean back, you lose balance and the two of you fall to the couch, both of you gasping as you are forced to part your lips.

“Fuck,” you chuckle as Harry is basically lying on you, holding himself up on his arms, but you feel him everywhere.

“’M sorry, I got a little carried away, but I’ve been dying to do this since forever,��� he admits chuckling as he lifts his head and looks down at you with those bright green eyes of his.

“Really?” you breathe out, only slowly processing what’s really just happened.

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you hiding behind your mum.”

“Idiot, you were just a kid, you weren’t in love,” you chuckle, running up your hands to the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the soft curls. He smirks and nuzzles his nose against yours.

“Oh, I was, I just didn’t know it yet.” Leaning down he pecks your lips softly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you so many times, but I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. Though I was growing impatient these last few years.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“You can’t imagine,” he huffs shaking his head. I almost kissed you the other day in the kitchen, but Gemma completely ruined the moment.”

“I’m sorry I ran away, I was just—“ “No need to apologize. I guess it all played out well after all, right?” he smirks and you can’t help but chuckle.

“I guess,” you breathe out and the smile slowly fades from your lips. “And now what?” you ask quietly, staring up at him.

“Now… We’ll try to make things work. Test the waters. I’m very serious about this, Y/N,” he tells you. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life so I’m not gonna let go of you now.”

“You have no idea how happy this is making me,” you choke out feeling the tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh Love, please don’t cry,” he begs and leaning down he kisses your tears away. “I’m right here, with you. Sorry it took me so long you get here, but I’m here now.”

“I know,” you huff blinking away the tears as you pull him down and press your lips to his. “I love you, Harry,” you whisper against his perfect lips. You feel him exhale sharply as he keeps kissing you before he lifts his head so your eyes meet again.

“I’ve always loved you.”

 Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

An Officer and a Gentleman

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; oral, anal, cheating (sort of), name-calling.

This is dark!(silverfox)Lee Bodecker x (married)reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your after hours work gets in the way of your day job.

Note: I had the first half sitting around and finished it so here ya go. It takes place in the 70s so Lee is older and it was inspired by an article I read about the creation phone sex lines by a housewife in the 70s (which now of course I can’t flippin find). But anyway, here you go.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The sheriff sat down in his usual spot as you wiped your hands on the rag tucked into your apron. He set his hat on the table and tidied his greying hair. Even at his age, his locks were thick and looked soft. Strands of brown lined the shining silver and shone under the diner lights.

He came in at the same time every day, only an hour into your shift. You approached and flipped the cup on its saucer before you filled it. He took only sugar, no cream 

or milk. You smiled as you watched him read over the menu, he never ordered anything but the waffles.

“Good morning, sheriff,” you said as you held the carafe aloft. “Lookin’ to try something new?”

“‘Dols Leck’?” Lee Bodecker mispronounced the French words, “What’s that?”

“Dolce Leche,” you corrected, “It’s caramel.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his ruddy cheek and reached for his mug. He drank and held out the menu. “Waffles with strawberry.”

“Extra cream,” you finished for him. He nodded and had another gulp as you walked away.

You put in his ticket after you replaced the coffee pot on the burner. You checked on the few other customers along the counter and wiped down the empty tables. The bell rang and you went to grab the sheriff’s breakfast from the window. You set the plate down before him as he folded the newspaper and replaced it in the little holder at the end of the table.

“How’s Eugene?” He asked as he unwrapped his cutlery. “And the boy?”

“Gene’s still on nights.” You lamented and subconsciously touched your stomach. “Little Ezra’s almost a year now.”

Your boy was buxom and buoyant. You smiled as you thought of his round cheeks and warm brown eyes. You only wished his father was around more to take him off your hip as you cooked and cleaned in your spare hours after work. Eugene was asleep as much as he was at the factory. You saw each other in passing as you scraped for ends meet.

Ezra was with Eugene’s mother during the day. You’d pick him up and take him home to wait for your husband to wake. If you were lucky, you got a kiss before he grabbed his lunch pail and headed out for his twelve hours. You hadn’t gotten more than that since before Ezra came. Neither of you had the time or energy, though the want was there.

“And you sheriff? How are you doing these days?” You asked before you could get lost in your self-pity.

“Ah, you know. The same old. Patrol’s ain’t too exciting.” He cut into the stack and licked his lips. He was a man with a sweet tooth, a substitute for his former alcoholic habit.

“Well, you enjoy, sheriff, you know how to get my attention.” You left him and did a round of refills for those eating and greeted the new arrivals.

Lee was always alone when he came in. He never brought any of his cadets or officers, he just sat, read the newspaper, and ate his waffles. He wasn’t married and had no children. Nearly fifty years on his back but he seemed content on his own. You almost envied him as you struggled with your small family.

🚔

You laid Ezra down carefully in his crib. He was getting big. You tickled his forehead and watched him for a moment before you left the room. It was late. Eugene was gone and the phone would ring soon. You had to prepare yourself for your night time duties.

It started small. An idea found in the pages of one of those feminist magazines, the very ones your husband called good kindling. A woman lost her job, still hard-fought for the domestic sex, and found herself in a similar way as yourself. Money was always needed and harder to come about. So she started her own service for the lonely men. A phone line with illicit intentions.

You read about it in the late stages of your pregnancy and laughed at the idea. It was so stupid. So scandalous. But once you were back to work and Eugene was on the late shift, you grew lonely and your checkbook was harder to open.

You hand wrote the little cards after a visit to the phone company. Eugene didn’t know about the second line. The number redirected to your main line and was active for only three hours a night, after your husband was gone. It was registered as a commercial line so each incoming call was billed to the dialer and a percentage was refunded on your own invoice.

You left the number around town, certain not to be seen as you dropped the cards in the car shop and the bar. At least, you hoped you hadn’t been seen.

The first night had you addled and sleepless until your shift began at the diner. It was hard to keep up the sultry voice and the lies. Difficult to act like the whole thing didn’t make you cringe. The men called and said their dirty words as you encouraged them with moans and little prods. “Oh yes, baby.” or “Tell me more.” It felt like you were cheating on your husband but it kept his plate full and the house warm.

The phone didn’t ring right away that night. Later in the week, you got more calls but one or two was better than none. The real profit was keeping them on the line as long as you could, but there were times you had to end abruptly to see to your wailing child.

You were half-asleep when the first call came in. You fumbled with the receiver and batted away your fatigue with your lashes. You held in a yawn and your sleepiness added to the allure of your put-on voice.

“Hello, mister, what are you longing for tonight?” You laid back on your pillow and played with the spiral cord.

“Well, I…” You blinked and held the phone against your ear. He sounded familiar, as many of the men did, but his timbre made your ears prick sharply. “I don’t know. I never did nothing like this before.”

You squinted and thought. You knew him but you couldn’t place the twinge in your head.

“I can start for you, darling,” you offered. “Mmm, tell you what I would do to you?”

He cleared his throat and you heard movement. He was nervous. So many of the men sounded the same. Most of them were afraid of being caught by their wives or uncertain about their desires. At first, you had the same fears but had since grown indifferent. It was human nature, as natural as one’s instinct to quench their thirst for water.

“How do you like it, darling? You like it when a lady bends over? I like it like that. Or maybe you want to start with me on my back.”

He groaned and you heard the receiver scratch. He let out a strained breath and moved the phone to his other hand.

“I want to use your mouth.” He said at last. His voice was low and gristly. “I want to push your head down in my lap as I choke you with my cock.”

You stared at the ceiling as you reclined and hummed. “Oh yeah.”

“Shut up.” He snarled. “I don’t want to hear your voice, I just want your mouth on me until you can’t fucking breathe. I want to hear you struggle. I was your tears streaming down your face and salting the taste of me on my tongue. I want to hold you down and cum until it’s deep in your belly.”

You parted your lips and raised your brows. You were still focused on trying to recognize the voice. His tone made you quiver. He was more forceful than most men. A lot of them just talked about sucking on your tits or went straight to fucking.

“I’d love that, darling.” You lied and bent one leg over the other as you swayed your foot.

“I said shut up!” He hissed. “I want to hold you down with my hands around your neck. I want to fuck you until your screaming. I’ll fuck you until you bleed. Until you beg for me to cum again.”

His breath was furious and you heard something else. The phone was moving against his chin as he moaned and you were certain you could hear his hand somewhere else; lower. It set your cheeks on fire and you sat up. His voice, his breath, the sheer anger and lust laced in his rasps. Your throat tightened as if he was truly choking you.

“But I want to cum in your ass. I want to make it hurt. I want you to cry as I tear you apart from the inside.” He growled and coughed as his voice fizzled out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He stroked himself furiously and the receiver dropped with a thump and you flinched. “Fucking bitch, yeah, you want my cock deep in your ass. Fucking whore.”

Your fingers hurt as you gripped the phone tightly and listened. His curses streamed steadily until the line clicked and died suddenly. You lowered the receiver and stairs at the little whole clustered together on the mouthpiece. You set it in the cradle and turned to sit on the edge of the bed.

It was unlike any call you’d had. It was terrifying and made your blood curdle. You felt as if it had actually happened as your chest was heavy and your heart raced. You blew out a shaky breath and reached to silence the ringer. 

That was enough for the night.

🚔

The next day at the diner, you couldn’t stop yawning. You hadn’t slept much as the call replayed in your head over and over. The man’s voice was so clear in your mind and every time you started to drift off, he spoke in your ear. You dragged the rag over the top of the counter as Amelia spoke with the elderly couple in that corner.

The door chimed and you looked up. Sheriff Bodecker took off his hat as he entered and nodded at you. With the coffee pot in hand, you went to his table, already set for his arrival. You wished him a good morning and filled his cup. His voice was thick as he muttered his response and picked up the menu. He looked as tired as you felt.

“Strawberry, sheriff?” You prompted.

“Hmm,” he scratched his chin, stubbly from a missed shave. “This Dolsay Leckay. I’ll try that today.” He held out his menu. “I’m trying new things this week.”

You took the menu stiffly and nodded. “Waffles with dolce leche sauce. Right away, sheriff.” 

You turned and walked off to write out his ticket. You returned the coffee pot to its place and set down the menu as you took out your pad and pen. Your hand shook as you scribbled out the order. You stuck it in the window and leaned on the counter.

It couldn’t be him. You were crazy. You didn’t get enough sleep and you were wanting to hear that voice everywhere. Your reassurances were weak and only made you shiver as you righted yourself and continued wiping down the tables.

You angled yourself to look at the sheriff as he squinted down at the newspaper. He stuck his tongue out as he read to poke his top lip and tilted his head coyly. He cleared his throat and coughed as his order rang in the window. 

You went to grab the plate and struggled not to fumble it. It was him. The way he coughed, the gravelly scratch of his throat, the deep and firm undertone. You couldn’t deny it was him. You were stunned you hadn’t recognized him at once.

“There you are, sheriff,” you said as you set down his plate. “Enjoy.”

“I think I will,” he rubbed his hands together. “I’m starving this morning.”

“If you need anything,” you made your usual offer.

He looked at you and smiled. You noticed how his eyes strayed to your name tag and the buttons of your blue dress. He turned to his waffles and took out the knife and fork.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said as he ran the tines of the fork through the dark caramel. “I think I’m just fine.”

You left him to eat and straightened your apron. You were confident you’d changed your voice enough that he didn’t have the same epiphany. Even so, everything about him was different. At least in your head. He was no longer the desolate sheriff, he was desperate and demanding. He wasn’t who you thought he was. He was a man with a lot of power and a hunger to use it.

🚔

It was several days before you dared to leave the ringer on after Eugene’s departure. Your husband was loving but almost entirely absent. Since Ezra was born, he’d only grown more distant and work could not excuse him completely. When you ate dinner late with him, he barely heard you as he kept the radio on and those nights he didn’t work, he didn’t touch you.

You felt worse for your own misdeeds. The phone line made you shy and sullen with him. You should tell him but you didn’t know how and truly, you couldn’t. You knew he wouldn’t take it well and even if he was barely there, you couldn’t lose him. You were already painfully alone.

That night, he volunteered for overtime and so you hardly saw him before he headed out. He said you needed the money but your books were well balanced from your own after hours work. You’d done it to take the burden off of him but he still took the extra time, even as you argued that your bills were in good standing. 

Was it you? When had it all grown so cold?

Ezra ate his mashed peas and you set him down for the night. You heard him cooing still but you kept to your schedule even when he was wide awake. He always tired himself out and never fussed very long.

You sat on your bed and read. You checked the time. The phone would start soon and that night you couldn’t leave it off. You needed the money and you couldn’t be picky about where it came from. The month would be over and there would be a whole new batch of debts to account for.

You jumped as it rang. You kept the volume low so it didn’t carry through the whole house and you answered after several rings. You gave your usual greeting and breathed a sigh of relief when it was one of your regulars. You closed your book and picked your nails as you went along with his routine.

When he finished, you wished him a good night. You were dead tired but one more call wouldn’t hurt. You waited and grabbed the receiver on the first ring.

“Hello, mister, what are you looking for tonight?” You made your voice higher and breathier.

“Shhhh.” The long hush chills your veins. “Don’t talk.”

You quivered. It was him. You looked at the phone cradle.

“Don’t hang up.” He said as if he could read your mind. “You want it, don’t you? You want to feel me inside you. Down your throat, fucking the whore out of you.”

“I…” you uttered.

“I said be quiet.” He barked. “I want my cock so far down your throat I can feel it as I choke you. I want your spit all over me, I want you gasping and gulping until you pass out and I’m fucking your mouth lifeless.”

Your eyes widened and you listened in disgust. He growled and his hand slapped off his thigh as he pleasured himself. You sit paralysed as fear bubbled in your chest and you felt as if he could see you. You crossed your legs and huddled down over the receiver.

“I want to fuck your cunt until it hurts to sit down. I want to hear my body slam into yours, I want you to beg me to stop and keep going at the same time. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t make a noise, until all you can hear is my cock pounding inside of you.”

“Please…” You wanted him to stop. You wanted to hang up and yet you were terrified to move.

“And I know you want it too, whore. I know you need it. Not these words, not these calls, but you need me,” he shuddered “and I need it just as bad.”

He grunted and the line grew still. He hissed and cursed. 

“I’m a fucking mess,” he sneered. Another silence and you think he hung up. His voice startled you when he spoke again. “Who’re ya?”

“Wh-what?”

“I ain’t stupid. You’re some lady in the county. Maybe some lonely housewife. Ain’t sound like no prostitute I ever knew.” He sniffed and let out a groan. “Maybe you some dumb teenager playin’ games on the telephone, huh?”

“I don’t-- No. I--” You hung up. 

You stood and pulled the line out of the phone and dropped down heavily. You put your head in your hands and shook it. Fuck!

🚔

The next morning at the diner, you served the sheriff with a false smile. Every time he spoke, you heard the words he said to you on the phone. Although his tone was placid, his fervour played over and over in your ears. And when you overpoured his coffee, you apologized only to have him assure you it was alright and let you mop up the mess with your rag.

He left you his usual tip and you cleared his table. The newspaper was tinged from your spill and you dumped it on his plate. As you did, a card slipped out onto the table and your handwriting stared back at you from the carefully cut rectangle. You hid it quickly in the newspaper and rushed to toss it all in the trash and drop the plate in the bin.

It must have been a mistake, you assured yourself and excused yourself for a breath of air. The chef, Carson, was already by the kitchen doors and you said yes to a smoke from his pack. You lit it after the third try and inhaled the tobacco deep into your chest. You would go to the phone company tomorrow on your day off and shut down the second line. Your lesson was learned. It wasn’t worth the spare pennies.

Your day dragged by as all you could think of was the line. When you got to the phone company, you were jittery with worry. It was easy enough to shut it down but the fee cost you your tips for the day. You checked the clock before you left, bound to be a few minutes late picking up Ezra.

As you came out onto the street, your open jacket flapped in the wind over your uniform and your mary janes clacked on the pavement as you rushed to get to Enid’s and pick up your son. When you stopped at the corner to wait for traffic to pass, a flash and a honk made you jump.

Sheriff Bodecker pulled up to the curb and rolled down his window. He waved and leaned his arm on the door as he peered out at you.

“You needa ride?” He asked.

You smiled awkwardly and clutched the handles of your weathered purse.

“Sheriff, no thank you, I’m not goin’ too far,” you waved him off.

“Nonsense, you on your feet all day. It’s the least I can do.”

“You must be busy.”

“Radio ain’t goin’ off,” he slapped the door, “now come on.” He reached down and opened the door, stepping out with a groan, “Get in. You always are so nice down at the diner.”

You swallowed and your lips quivered as you tried to hold your smile. You followed him around the other side of the car as he opened the door for you. You got into the vintage cruiser and crossed your legs as you cradled your purse on your lap. He closed the door and dropped in on the other side.

He shifted into gear and pulled off. You thanked him and fiddled with clasp of your purse.

“No problem, but uh, I just needa know where you’re goin’,” he chuckled as he slowed at the next four way.

“Oh, I gotta get Ezra from his gramma’s,” you explained, “She lives just down Carsbee.”

“Not far at all,” he commented as he turned the wheel, “So, how was the rest of your day then?”

“Not so bad,” you said breathily as he looked at you in his mirror and you focused on the pedestrians on the street, “and yours, sheriff?”

“You can call me Lee if ya like,” he offered, “And wasn’t so bad either. Which number is it, sweetheart?”

You sniffed at the pet name, he was usually so formal at the diner with his ma’ams.

“21B,” you answered as you wiggled your foot nervously, “you can just drop me off. It’s not too far to home.”

“Don’t be silly, I wanna meet your boy,” he intoned, “you talk about him so much.”

“Oh, uh, of course,” you murmured as he pulled up along the front of your mother-in-law’s, “I just gotta go get him then.”

You hooked your purse over your elbow and slid over the seat. The sheriff kept you from opening the door as he bid you stay and got out quickly as he rushed around the front of the car. He opened the door like a gentleman and removed his hat. 

“I’m old but I haven’t forgot my manners,” he nodded and waited for you to step out.

You got to your feet and thanked him again before you strolled up the crooked walk to the front door. You knocked and let yourself in like you always did. You could hear Ezra babbling as he played with wooden toy cars. Enid sat in her usual spot and rocked as she watched him.

“How was he today?” You asked as you grabbed the bag you always left with him and packed up the loose ends beside it.

“Loud,” Enid muttered, “hyper.”

“Well, he’s at that age,” you grasped your purse and Ezra’s bag in one hand and picked him up from the floor as he reached out for you. “Alright, Ez, say buh bye to grammy.”

He waved and cooed as you held him on your hip. Enid said buy in her grumpy way and got up to see you to the door. You came down the single step as Lee waited by his cruiser. Ezra buried his face in your shoulder as he turned away from the sheriff.

“Don’t be shy, Ezra, this is the sheriff, Mr. Bodecker,” you tried to shake him upright but he clung to you and hid.

“Ah, don’t worry, I’m used to that,” Lee laughed and opened the door, “people see the badge and they’re not so friendly.”

“He just goin’ through a phase,” you assured as you sat with Ezra in your lap.

As Lee shut the door, you let the bags lean against it and the car dipped as he got in the other side. He turned the engine and you gave him your own address as your son squirmed in your lap. At the first corner, Ezra found the courage to look at the sheriff and the officer looked back and stuck out his tongue.

“He looks like you,” Lee said as he pushed down on the pedal, “real cute.”

You accepted the compliment and hugged Ezra tighter. You could barely process the sheriff’s words as your mind returned to those he spoke the night before. Every time he spoke, you heard him, hissing and cussing at you.

You were relieved when he came up to your house and you turned to grab your bags. You felt a tug on your elbow as you balanced Ezra and your things. You looked back at Lee as he held your arm.

“I’ll get the door,” he said, “you just stay put.”

You waited as he let you go and once more, opened the door for you. He took the bags as you climbed out and you protested that you were fine. His hand settled on your shoulder as he pulled you to face him.

“Well, sweetheart, you gonna invite me in for some coffee?”

You were shocked by his boldness and couldn’t hide it. You blanched and looked at Ezra as he tugged at your jacket. You laughed awkwardly.

“Eugene’s still sleepin’ for his shift, I don’t--”

“We got some things to discuss and I think the least you can do after I was so kind as to drive you home is a coffee.”

You squinted at him in confusion. “Maybe another time, sheriff, I’d really hate to wake--” you reached for your bags and he stopped you with his grip firm on your wrist.

“Does he know?” Lee asked in a gristly voice.

“Know what?”

“Know you a whore?” Lee sneered.

You reeled and tried to twist from his grasp. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You can’t say them words on the phone and not mean ‘em,” he leaned in close, “Now I think you know what I want to talk with you about so you invite me in and I’ll be real nice about it but if you keep me out here, I can’t promise your neighbours won’t get a show.”

You pouted and rocked Ezra as he began to fidget, sensing your discomfort. “Please, I got Ezra--”

“You put him in the next room so we can discuss,” Lee insisted.

He let go of you and you nodded dumbly. You watched him wearily as you turned and led him up the walk. You unlocked the front door and he followed you inside. He hung his hat on the rack with his leather jacket and you hurried into the bedroom to set Ezra down in his crib. You distracted him with his stuffed rabbit and left him. He was usually due for a nap around then anyway.

When you got back to the front room, Lee sat on your couch and you went to the kitchen to start the coffee. You waited for the water to boil and filled the percolator as you dreaded what would come next. You poured a mug and set it out on the coffee table with the sugar dish. 

Lee leaned forward and spooned the sweet powder into his mug as you stood and wrung your hands. How had he figured it all out? How long had he known? Was he going to tell Eugene?

“Sit,” he said as he inhaled the savoury scent and took a cautious sip. His mug made a deafening clink as he set it down and you sat. “I s’pose you went by the phone company to end your little game.”

You sucked your lip in nervously and nodded as you looked down guiltily.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, “you know I was down there a few days ago and they just hand the records over if I say I got a warrant. They ain’t look close enough to realise it’s just a receipt.”

You gulped and kept your head down. You ran your tongue against your lip and blinked away the moisture in your eyes.

“How long you been doin’ all that?” he asked.

“Couple months,” you admitted, “I just needed some extra money. Ever since Ezra was born…”

“But you could get another job.”

“I gotta be home for the boy. Eugene never is.”

“Now a woman don’t be talkin’ like that if she happy. If she not alone.”

“Stop, please. It was a mistake. I’m sorry if you feel like I--”

“Sorry?” he interrupted, “you’re sorry? You think Gene would accept that?”

You sat in silence and picked at the button on your jacket. You hadn’t even bothered to take it off. “You gonna tell him?”

He let out a heavy breath and took another drink of coffee. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

You looked at him and furrowed your brow in confusion. You shook your head as he smirked.

“I will if you make me but if you want me to stay quiet--”

“Sheriff--”

“Shhhh,” he raised a finger, “now, you want me keep my mouth shut, you be waitin’ for me tonight after he goes.”

You stared at him in terror as your heart threatened to jump up your throat.

“And then we’re done talkin’. Then you do all those things we spoke about.”

“You can’t-- I got a son.”

“And a husband but you still be talkin’ to strange men about your pretty little pussy, don’t you?”

You blew a shaky breath between your trembling lips and sank down in the chair in shame. “I thought you were a good man, sheriff.”

“I am, don’t mean I’m not lonely.”

He drained the rest of the mug and coughed. He stood and adjusted his belt, his hand lingering on his belt. You watched his finger trace the barrel and your eyes crept up to his face.

“I’d hate to wake your husband, sweetheart, so I’ll be on my way.” he retreated around the couch and paused by the door, “but I’ll be around.”

🚔

The night went by faster than any. You never felt like you got much time with your husband but it was almost as if he was gone as soon as he woke. He left you with a peck on your forehead and dread in your chest. You thought of telling him, you wanted to confess and fix everything that had broken, but you couldn’t. You were too ashamed.

So when he was gone, you put Ezra down for the night and hoped the Sheriff was just trying to scare you. He couldn’t be serious, could he? You’d known him for years and he was only every sweet at the diner. He was a solitary man but was never unkind. That afternoon, he had been an entirely different man.

You sat on the couch, no radio, no nothing, and picked at the lines of your hand. You were certain you would sit up all night and laugh at yourself in the morning. He was just making sure you stopped, that had to be it.

But then the knock came and your whole body went rigid. You waited until it sounded again, harder, louder. You got up and went to the door. You didn’t need to look out to know who it was. You opened up and Lee watched you with his menacing blue eyes. They were no longer the gentle gems you knew from the diner.

“Sweetheart,” he drawled as he stepped inside and you backed away from him.

He closed the door and locked it then he removed his hat and jacket, just as he had earlier. He bent to ease off his boots and stood as he cleared his throat. He peered behind you and looked around your small house.

“I’m just in time, huh?” he mused as he touched your side and let it slip down to your hip. “What you shakin’ for?”

“I thought…” you rasped. “Sheriff, you know me. I’m not a bad woman.”

“You ain’t?” he snickered. “I do know you. I’m the only one in the county who knows the real you.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doin’ this,” you whined.

“I’m old but not decrepit,” he took your hand and raised it, “and you’re a beautiful woman. I daresay,” he kissed the back of your hand, “motherhood did make you even sweeter.”

“Please,” you begged.

“You get in that bedroom before I lose the last of my will,” he bit his lip as he looked you up and down and released your hand.

You shivered and backed away from him. You went blindly to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. You couldn’t, not in the bed you shared with your husband. Lee came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle.  His hot breath tickled your ear as he leaned into you.

“I wanna see what you hide under that dress,” he purred, “now don’t make me ruin it.”

You gasped and drew away from him. You neared the foot of the bed and unbuttoned the top of your dress. Your fingers were ungainly as you struggled and you pushed the sleeves down your arms with a stifled sob. You shoved the fabric past your waist and hips and his growl made you stand upright with a snap.

Your stockings were held up by fraying garters and your old underwear added to your shame. Your brasserie was pointed and too tight. You hung your head and balled your hands into fists.

“Turn around, I wanna see you,” he said.

You reluctantly obeyed and stared at the floor. He hummed and his thumb ran over his belt buckle. A sudden cry made your blood cold and he scowled. Ezra was awake.

You moved to go to him and the sheriff blocked the door.

“I gotta go to him. He must’ve had a bad dream.”

“I’ll take care of the boy. You just be waitin’ when I get back.” he ran his tongue under his teeth, “naked.”

He pointed to the bed and didn’t leave until you took several steps back. You listened as he went to the small room attached to the master. You worried he might hurt the boy but his coaxing voice surprised you. 

“Shhh,” you heard the distant tone, “it’s okay, son, it’s okay.”

You reached to unhook your bra and sat to roll your stockings off. You needed this man gone. If you abided him, he would be away sooner. You dropped the last of your clothing to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. Your nails dug into the blankets and you closed your eyes.

It was over a year since you’d been touched. That alone made you shy but that man made you terrified. You heard him enter but didn’t look up at him. “You get up on all fours and ready that mouth for me.” he ordered as you heard his buckle tink, “yeah, I wanna start there.”

You swallowed and did as he said. You felt like some lowly animal as you stared at the floor. You heard the flutter of fabric as he stripped and when he came close, you shut your eyes. He grabbed your hand and jerked you to the edge. He tapped the tip of his cock along your lips.

“Now, open up, sweetheart,” he snarled, “I know you remember every word I said.”

You parted your lips and he forced his way into your mouth. He poked at the back of your throat but didn’t relent. You gagged as he sank down your throat and your entire body twitched. His hand went to your neck as he drew back and pushed back in. He felt himself as he invaded your throat over and over.

“Ah, yes, that’s it,” he uttered, “you can’t tell me you’re not a whore. You take me like one.”

You tried to swallow around him and breath and it made him groan. He kept fucking your face as his hand squeezed your throat. Your spit spilled out and smeared across your face and his pelvis. He kept your head bobbing until you were dizzy and dazed.

He stopped, deep down your throat, and grunted. He let out a shuddery breath and pushed you off of him. You slipped down onto your stomach and gasped over the side of the bed.

“Hoo, I almost blew,” he huffed, “oh, you bad, bad girl.” He trailed his hand down your back and slapped your ass, “turn around and get back up.”

You whimpered and lifted yourself back to your knees. You moved stiffly around and wiped your mouth as the taste of him stained your tongue. He grabbed your hips and pulled you back. He kneaded your ass with hungry growls and pinched your thigh. He felt along your cunt and tutted.

“You wet for me,” he taunted, “just from a taste, sweetheart.”

You dropped your head and he moved closer. He pressed the head of his dick against your folds and ran it up and down as you slickened. He lined up with your entrance and his large hand gripped your hip. He slid into you with a sigh and you let out a startled cry. Maybe it was because it was so long but he felt massive. You quivered around him and clenched your teeth.

“Oh, fuck, you want it just as bad as me, don’t ya?” He bucked his hips and you exclaimed, “how am I suppose to hold back with you squeezin’ me like that?”

He didn’t hold back as he caught his stride. He hammered into you as your flesh slapped loudly. You feared the noise would wake your son again, or worse, be heard by the neighbours. He groaned and grunted as he rammed into you and your thighs quaked. Ripples rolled over your spine and multiplied down your legs.

He stretched his hand over your back and slid them up to your shoulders. He bent over you as he forced your arms to fold beneath you and pushed your head into the mattress. He stilled and wiggled his hips until you moaned. He pulled one hand away from your shoulder as the other spread over your neck.

He slid out of your cunt and spread your juices up and down. He guided his dick between your cheeks and leaned into to pant in your ear. “I didn’t forget about your ass.”

He pushed against your hole and you tensed. His hand tightened on your neck and he poked harder. 

“You relax or it’ll hurt more,” he coaxed, “come on, almost…”

He pushed past your ring and you both gasped. Your eyes filled with tears and you sniffed as he urged himself deeper past your resistance. He let out a long breath as he advanced inch by inch. He drew back each time before adding more and when he was at his limit, you sobbed and clawed at the mattress.

“Oh, oh, fuck, oh, shit,” he swore as he rocked his hips, “you know, urgh, I wanted to do this for so long. Even ‘fore I called.”

He growled and built a steady pace as he stretched you. Your tears seeped into the blanket as his grip threatened to break your neck. His belly bounced against the top of your ass as he rutted without restraint.

“I always thought ‘bout you over that table. Always thought-- Always thought you deserved better than that husband,” he rasped out, “but I never thought you’d feel so good.”

He slammed into you harder than before. Your legs fell out from beneath you and he was quick to descend over you, covering you with his body as he bent his arm across the back of your head. He fucked you into the mattress as your head began to spin and your body reacted to his.

You’d never felt anything so intense as the maelstrom of pain and pleasure building inside you. You moaned and muttered until the sudden tide swept you up and had you murmuring like a fool, drooling onto the bed as he kept on.

He planted his hand on either side of you and lifted himself. He dropped his hips down into your ass over and over. The symphony of flesh filled your mind and you succumbed to the afterglow of tortured delight. He sank as far as he could and spasmed.

“Shit, oh, sweetheart, sweetheart,” he slowed and lowered his sweaty body onto you. You suffocated beneath him as his heart beat against your back. “Oh, you made me… made me blow.” He tilted his hips. “You feel how I filled your ass?”

You let out shallow breaths and turned your face into the blanket. He grunted and raised himself off of you, his cock slipping out easily and his cum trickling down after. He fell onto his back beside you and tried to catch his breath. He reached over blindly and let his fingertips dance along your ass.

“Really it ain’t your fault,” he said as his fingers crawled along the top of your thigh, “a man must be crazy to leave you all alone at night.”

[saturnsummer]

oh, how we’ve grown.

prompted by an anon from my ask here! 

notes: this was probably the fic that stumped me on so many occasions, since it was really bittersweet. editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me! it took me longer than expected and i’m not sure if everyone would be able to catch on how i interpreted the group’s futures and personalities! if anyone would like to know more, do dm me! as always, enjoy and thank you for the support and love!

original prompt: I think Joon Hwi and Sol A was already dating during their 3L (since Sol A looked so comfortable acting flirty and cute aroud Joon Hwi on their way to the old man's trial). Now I wonder what happen with them during time skip and by the ending, what stage of relationship they are in. Can you write a fic or headcanon ab that? Thank you! 🥰

words: 4373 words

it was finally the day of graduation.

joon hwi was beyond excited. he was nostalgic, sad and emotional, for sure. but after crying so many tears yesterday and the past week, he found it useless to cry any further. he lets the adrenaline set in for his new chapter lying ahead.

joon hwi was finally going to be a prosecutor.

his letter came in a few weeks after the bar exam. he counts himself lucky, being one of the students that helped to capture assemblyman ko, solve his uncle's murder, prove his professor's and his own innocence. all in his first year. it was no surprise that when he applied, they immediately wanted him. his grades were just the cherry on top to his stack of achievements. he was certainly overqualified for a guy who just passed the bar.

(well, he did pass the second round judicial exam.)

further than that, he was crowned valedictorian and was tasked to give a speech to his fellow batch mates. he had practiced his speech countless times, and he could recite it in his sleep by now. but he can’t quite place the feeling that he feels. his thoughts are all over and he can’t seem to keep his heart rate constant.

a knock on the door of his now empty dorm room distracts him from his thoughts. there, dressed in similar graduation robes, with long wavy brown hair is kang sol a, or to him, his kang sol. she walks in with a small smile on her face, but her smile fades away to a face of concern after studying his face. her eyes dart to the door, and she strides back to shut the door, giving him and her the privacy that he needs.

"what's troubling you?" she asks gently, taking his hand into hers. a quiet, simple gesture done by sol could soothe him so much. joon hwi is silent, not knowing why he’s so nervous. he’s done speeches and talked to crowds bigger than this. heck, he has testified for court. yet, the knot in his stomach refuses to cease.

“i don’t know… it’s nothing new, yet…” he trails off, avoiding his eyes with his girlfriend. his thoughts race through his head, but it leads back to his uncle, his samchoon, the man that brought him up: seo byungju.

“joon. joon, look at me.” sol brings a hand up to his cheek, gently raising it so it meets her eyes rather than the floor. joon hwi promised he wouldn’t be emotional today, yet he found his eyes glassy when he met sol’s eyes. as a tear slips, her fingers wipe it away gently.

“your uncle… he would be so proud of you to see the boy he raised achieve his dream.” sol says, a voice so quiet and soft, it seems to echo to joon hwi. she always knew what to say and always knew what was troubling him deep down, even if he denied it.

samchoon… are you proud of me?

“i’ll always be supporting you, like how your uncle did. when you’re on stage, if you feel intimidated, just look at my eyes, alright?” sol says, rubbing his cheek. he gives a small smile and nods slowly. taking his hand, sol intertwines it between her fingers, an action that he knows she only does when they are alone. an act so simple, yet his heart was so soothed by then.

joon hwi’s free hand reaches to the back of her head, as he lowers his slightly, so their forehead rest against each other. he breathes her perfume in, the one he bought for her a few months into their relationship, the one that she always wanted but could never buy. he takes slow breathes with her, her thumb rubbing his knuckle gently.

sol pulls away, much to joon hwi’s disappointment. he wanted her skin ship even more, just savouring her touch under his skin. sol notices his disappointment and only gives him a smile.

“they’re waiting for us. come, let’s go.” sol says softly, letting go of his hand after giving him a squeeze. he knows she hates being affectionate in public, even in front of their close friends. he gives her a quick peck on the top of her head before following behind her, walking to the lobby where they were.

“yah, hyung!” bokgi waved with enthusiasm, gathering the attention of the group. joonhwi maintains his composure and lets out a deep breath.

“nervous, hyung?” yebeom asks, his fingers fiddling.

“tch, it’s me. i’ll be fine.” joon hwi replies. it’s a half truth, now that sol is by his side.

“that’s why sol-noona had to find you, right?” bokgi teases, earning a nudge from yeseul. bokgi looks in mocked offence, but he recovers. everyone eyes at sol with prying eyes, the look of teasing on their faces. she takes this moment to shut her eyes, bring her hands up to face and shakes her head while sighing. these kids have literally nothing better to do than to just tease her and joon hwi.

“it’s time. you should go.” jiho says as he nods towards the lecture hall. the ceremony doesn’t start till half an hour later, but being valedictorian, he had preparations to do. they send joon hwi their last words of encouragement, but joon hwi was not going to leave unless he embarrassed his girlfriend a little longer.

his hand reaches up to sol’s hair, sweeping the curls behind her and cutely arranging her fringe the way she likes it. sol blushes as the group ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ in front of them. joon hwi knows she hates being so affectionate in front of her friends, but it’s always fun to tease. sol’s bright red and her face forms the smallest pout. joon hwi knows he’s achieved his mission.

“i’ll see you later.” he says with a wink and walks away, hearing the tease from yebeom and sol squeaking back.

when he’s on stage later, giving his speech, the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly. but the only thing that changes is that his eyes are fixed on the warm brown eyes of sol. as he addresses his late uncle at the end, he pauses and takes a deep breath. sol looks at him and gives him an encouraging nod. he ends his speech, eyes never once leaving her gaze, as the student body claps for him and he takes a bow.

one by one, the students are told to line up and take their certificates on stage from dean oh. she gives the seven graduates a knowing smile when they step on stage, knowing how much they’ve been through, after being swept up by their problems in their first and second years. even after all that, they managed to graduate with excellent results.

when they gather to take their photos (taken by seungjae, who decided to attend their graduation. it was the least he could do to show his support.), joon hwi swears he sees his uncle standing at the rock by the entrance of the school. he swears he sees the knowing silhouette of the tall man, grey hair and his metal spectacles. but what warms him the most is the smile of seo byung ju’s face and the slight nod.

yes, my boy. i’m so proud of you.

with that, joon hwi lets himself smile as seungjae snaps the camera.

(he doesn’t notice his blurred vision from his tears, but rather blames it on the sun hurting his eyes.)

-----

the group takes individual shots of themselves, even jiho and sol b are smiling when their photos are taken. sol doesn’t lose a chance to tease her roomie about her cute smile, one she only reserved for limited situations.

joon hwi watches as his friends spread out across the field to meet their family, sharing the good news of graduation and their new starting jobs. the smiles on the parent’s faces warms his heart deeply, somehow, even though he’s standing alone.

jiho was going to be a prosecutor with joon hwi in their new office. jiho could care less about joon hwi, but he can’t help but admit that it comforted him knowing a familiar face to be in his office in about two weeks. after all, they did share a room for three years.

sol b, against her mother’s wishes, has decided to take a gap year. her mother initially planned for her to continue her training, securing her route to being a judge. but sol b has had enough of her mother’s toxicity. as they went through therapy as a family, sol b had expressed as best as she could her need to discover what she wants for herself, not what her mother wants for her. what she will be doing in her gap year is still undecided, but she has chosen to move out for the time being.

yeseul was going to be in a firm that mostly did cases of women rights. while she initially was hesitant, bokgi encouraged her to take this opportunity, using her experience and her trial as a voice to the other victims. from time to time, she promised professor kim that she would come back to help at the legal clinic.

bokgi, on the other hand, had finally achieved his dream of being a human rights lawyer. while he was upset that he couldn’t work near yeseul, his spirits were immediately lifted when he heard that yebeom was going to be working just at the building across from him, another big law firm. (it was settled that as much as they went through, the bok-beom duo was never to be separated.)

sol, on the other hand, accepted her first job at attorney park’s firm, ironically. just when she had her first internship, she remembers screaming that she would never work with crooked lawyers like him. sol chose to work with him, as a return of the many favours she owes professor yang, starting with the one from high school. it was the most she could do for her role model.

joon hwi observes as he notices the proud faces of mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, and spots the few sightings of grandparents. somehow, he can’t help but feel a little lonely. his parents, the two individuals he had a short-lived relationship with had long passed. his uncle, the closest thing he had to a father had too passed. he can’t even guess where his aunts or other distant relatives are. his distant relatives probably don’t remember him, and neither does joon hwi.

a small body crashing into him breaks his flow of thoughts, as he looks down to see who it is. byeol wraps her arms around joon hwi’s waist happily and joon hwi breaks into laughter, realising who it is and lifting her before spinning her. she’s giggling in a mess as joon hwi spots sol’s mother and her walking to them.

“ah, hello, mrs kang.” joon hoi greets with formality. sol’s mother playfully smacks his arm with a smile, clearly embarrassed from such formality.

“ah! how many times have i said to not call me that, joon hwi-ah! at this point, you should just call me halmeoni!” she says, earning a big laugh from joon hwi and sol’s face burning with embarrassment.

“umma! don’t say things like this!” sol squeaks back. joon hwi only smiles and insists to call her ‘mrs kang’. byeol is getting introduced to their friends as bokgi and yebeom play a game of tag with her. sol’s mother stands by sol, her hand on her back and her other rubbing joon hwi’s back.

“joon hwi-ah, i hope you know how proud i am of you. sol has told me your own fair share of troubles. i know... you don’t have much of a mother figure in your life, but as your girlfriend’s mother, i hope you know i treat you like my own.” sol’s mother comments to him, holding both his hands in her warm ones. “more than just tutoring my daughter and helping her, you got through your troubles on your own.” joon hwi can only smile as he suppresses the emotions.

“your parents must be so glad to have such a righteous son.”

joon hwi, for a moment, is reminded of his limited memories with his parents. he doesn't remember much, being so young when they died. but how his mother would teach him the importance of kindness and compassion. his father would teach him to be strong, to stand up for the bullies that picked on the poorer kids in his preschool.

hearing his girlfriend’s mother tell him that, he couldn’t help but just pull her into a warm hug. sol joins in from behind, enveloping them with a warm that joon hwi was unable to explain. burying his face into the older woman’s hair, he lets himself be a child, as she rubs his back and holds him lovingly.

for the first time in his life, he finally experiences the warmth of a mother’s hug.

-----

as the field starts clearing out, the seven graduates and seungjae are left behind. their families have gone home, leaving them on the field, laid down in a circle, heads together. there was just silence, as they breathed in the air of hankuk university once more.

once more, as students.

once more, as graduates.

once more, before they step into their next phase.

“i’ll really miss you guys.” sol says quietly. yeseul, lying next to her, nods, although no one can see.

“we’ll meet up. especially you, seungjae-hyung! don’t be shy to ask for babysitters!” bokgi announces, earning a smile from seungjae. they slowly got up from the grass, dusting off the dirt and making their way back once more to the university lobby.

this was the place where these eight students met, all with different objectives and from all walks of life. yet, as different as they are, they got along and went through hell together, for each other. the short lived three years were filled with so many troubles, yet they pulled through together.

truly, they were more than friends. they were family.

seungjae took his leave first, being the family man he was. yebeom had to rush to a family event, and yeseul was going to catch a meal with bokgi. (yeseul promised bokgi to give him a chance once they graduated, and so she kept her promise.) jiho and solb were silently headed off in the same direction with their only conversation being “i’ll drop you off” by jiho and solb nodding. (joon hwi and sol only eye them, making mental notes to tease their ex-roommates.)

“are you going home?” joon hwi asks as sol grabs her bag. after graduating, sol made the decision to move home for the time being, to pay off her loans and support her family and ease her mother of some financial burden. joon hwi has opted many times to help, even wanting to pay off her loans. he had no loans, and after he sold his uncle’s mansion, he had a huge sum of money along with the inheritance. but sol couldn’t do it, she needed to work for this herself.

“yeah. i promised byeol i’ll help her with her work and catch a movie with her too. it’s been long since i could just spend time with her.” sol says. the lobby was now empty, with a few students walking in and out. sol looks at the lady justice statue, almost reminded of the many times she stared at it to remind herself of why she chose law. why she chose this profession.

together, they walk out, holding hands for the first time openly in their school. they were no longer students, and there was no point hiding from others anymore. she was just kang sol; he was just han joon hwi. no more ‘second round judicial pass’, no more ‘uncle killing nephew’, no more ‘klutz’, no more ‘twin failure’. just them.

joon hwi takes the bus to sol’s home, still in the ground floor apartment by an alley. sol’s mother invites him in, but he quickly declines, saying he needs to run some errands back at his own apartment. well, it wasn’t a lie. he just shifted in and he certainly had to clean and unpack.

when the apartment is packed with law books stacked neatly in his bookcase, the floor dusted and mopped, furniture clean and the fridge stocked with fresh groceries, he picks his phone to find seungjae sending the group their photos. there’s numerous comments on how yebeom is already missing us, and even jiho gives a ‘tch’ as a reply in the chat. he notices an unread text from his professor and opens the chat box.

you’re on my speed dial for cases. don’t ignore me.

joon hwi scoffs. he sets his phone aside as he flops back on his bed, for the first time processing all that has happened.

he can’t wait for the future.

(on his wall, he hangs a childhood photo of him and his uncle. on the frame, it has a tag with his daily reminder to judge fairly, and to make sure no one suffers unjustly.)

-----

the next few years for joonhwi are an adventure. his experience in the prosecution office is busy and stressful, but with jiho working just next door, he finds comfort in having him by his side. he battles many cases, slowly but surely, making a name for himself. instead of being known as the man that solved his uncle’s murder, he was now known as the prosecutor that never loses.

the study group kept in touch, meeting every two weeks for dinner at a barbecue place. somedays, they drank. on others, they just chatted and kept the plates of pork coming. seungjae did his best to join, but with his toddler kid, things were difficult.

seungjae took a year after his hearing to be with his wife, and take care of her during her pregnancy. he then decided to work as a forensic examiner. if he couldn't practice law and help people with it, the least he could was to uphold it and enforce it. his job was new and interesting, but he humbled himself to push through his training. he meets the group when they are dealing with criminal cases and helps them out as best he can.

the study group also took turns meeting his kid, and would always love babysitting. sol, as expected, was the best with chaotic duo bokgi and yebeom. instead of dinners some nights, they met at his house to catch up with him and spoil his kid. (seungjae couldn’t stop it. when the kid was born, he immediately gained 7 new aunts and uncles, ready to spoil and pamper him.)

his relationship with sol grew as well. working such long working days was tough, but they tried their best. sol would sometimes deliver homemade stews to his apartment and joon hwi would deliver jjajamyeon with her extra pickles on some nights. they met on the weekends, where they would just go to the park and take strolls or hole up in joon hwi’s apartment to work on their cases together.

sol was doing exceptionally well as a new attorney, almost successfully appealing to all her clients. her clients love her, not only for winning, but for always being so caring to them. many say she still keeps in contact with some clients, even after the case has been closed. while she thinks it is no big deal, sol’s career was climbing up. her loans were fully paid, and she has begun looking into apartments for her family and her to shift out of. that alley brought too much danger, especially with byeol growing into a teenager and her mother’s joints weakening.

sol b took that gap year to work at an administrative office at a law firm, before deciding to continue her law career to gain experience before moving forward to be a judge. throughout the gap year, she split her time on herself and therapy, as well as on her study group. she found herself wanting to be a judge, not for her mother, but for herself.

jiho and sol b also started dating each other shortly after they graduated, when joon hwi spotted sol b and jiho holding hands when he was leaving his office. they only told the group a few months later. but of course, everyone knew by then. ever since then, they caught sol b and jiho smiling a bit more, even if their smiles were just the slight curl at the corner of the lips.

yebeom was doing well in his law firm, handling mostly small cases, but he was content since he had a fun time handling the many cases and making visits to meet clients instead of being stuck in the office. bokgi was a human rights lawyer, with most of his cases about the discrimination of citizens in any aspect. he fought for the rights of those of different sexual orientations, races and religions and was extremely happy being able to do that.

yeseul was defending women of all walks of life, from their unequal treatment to domestic abuse. she was passionate and has made headlines a few times over the years when she chose to speak out about her story. she was well known in this area, being the first few lawyers to be a victim of domestic abuse and defending them. she also kept in contact with professor kim and made regular visits at the legal clinic.

bokgi and her only started dating a year after the graduated. bokgi respected the reasons and her space and yeseul found herself falling in love with him. after all, he stood by her all this while for the whole three years and have seen her at her worst. more than that, he treated her with respect and loved her equally, even after all that.

one day, as joon hwi and sol spent their day on the sofa at joon hwi’s apartment, joon hwi was nervous to ask this question. sol was busy looking at different apartment listings.

“sol, can i ask you something?” joon hwi asks, grabbing her hand. sol nodded, eyes still focussed on her screen.

“would you... would you want to move in with me?” sol’s hand stops scrolling as the words sink in and she slowly faces her boyfriend.

“i... i don’t know. i mean, byeol and umma will be left alone, right?” sol says, her voice quiet and soft.

“we can live near them. i think the lease of the apartment is ending soon, anyways.” joon squeezes her hand.

“but... i don’t know if i have enough money to get an apartment for them and us. joon, i really want to, i really do. but...” sol’s eyes are uncertain, and joon hwi sees her eyes guilty, almost like she feels bad for saying that.

“we can get the apartment in instalments. you can buy one for your mom and byeol first and we will slowly pay for ours.” he says. placing a finger under her chin, he raises it so her eyes meet hers. “sol, they are going to be alright on their own.”

sol nods her head and reaches up to pull her boyfriend’s face to hers, letting their lips connect. his lips are soft against hers, as she taste the slight coffee taste from his mug. it’s almost frenzy, from what started as a simple kiss lead to a fight for dominance. without knowing, sol is straddling joon hwi, as his hands pull back her long hair.

when they pull away, he feels her hot breath on his face, and her face burning red, embarrassed at how she acted.

“should we get back to looking at apartments?” joon hwi asks, a small smile on his face, ultimately an act of tease to her. she quickly nods and climbs off of him as they look at apartments together. joon hwi gives her a knowing smirk, before sol swats his arm and they resume scrolling.

and it was true, when professor yang had him on speed dial.

he was just about to leave for a coffee and bother jiho for a bit at his office one day, when a call came in from professor yang.

“han joon hwi.”

“professor.”

“you’re needed, now. meet me at hankuk university in thirty minutes.” and the call disengages. it was a habit of his professor’s, to give blunt replies and just cut off without saying goodbye. he slips on his blazer and grabs his briefcase before picking up the call from sol instinctively. so much for listening to orders, even though he wasn’t a student anymore.

“called you too?” he asks once he picks up, scribbling on a post it note, noting his early leave from the office.

“what else? gosh, i really hate it when he hangs up like that.” sol replies, a twinge of annoyance in her voice.

“i’ll pick you.” joon hwi says, as he leaves his office, then knocks on jiho’s door. jiho’s head pops up from his laptop, before nodding in acknowledgement.

“no, don’t bother. i’ve already caught the train.” sol replies and joon hwi hears the familiar beeping of train doors. sol knows she’s got to hang up soon, if she doesn’t want to irritate other commenters on the train.

“love you.” he says back. sol’s face is blushing red, but she’s lucky everyone on the train was busy on their phone.

“i love you too.” she whispers before hanging up and storing her phone away in her handbag.

when they meet at the doors of hankuk university each time they are called in for a case, they can’t help but to think of how far they’ve come. sol, the girl with bad grades and on a scholarship. joon hwi, the top student with a hidden secret. yet in a matter of years, they blossomed together with their friends on their routes.

professor yang is by the lady justice statue, and when he looks up to see his students stroll in with authority and confidence, he gives a knowing smile.

shall we start?

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Wow - the response i received in a little under 24 hours since i posted the first taste of part 1 has truly bowled me over! I wasn't expecting that reaction & tbh i would have been happy if 2 people wanted to read this story hahaha! So, i've been writing in the background & the first few parts have already been proofed and are ready to go. HOWEVER! I am open to your suggestions so please please let me know what you think and how you want to see Amelia's story play out. As far as i'm concerned, this fic is as much yours as it is mine! So please enjoy this first part, in its entirety, and let me know your thoughts! Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 1 | prima parte

warnings; none - maybe a bit of angst? (what sibling rivalry doesn't have a bit of angst)

word count; 1978 words

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Sunday 25/07 5pm AEST. Updates will be twice weekly at this stage. Probably Wednesday’s and Sundays from next week!!

link to fic masterlist here

The world of football, no matter how big it may seem, is as tight as a close-knit family. Whether its management staff, senior players, scouts, academy players, business developers, medical team, groundskeeper - everyone knows someone who knows someone else involved in the sport. For Amelia White, it was a family affair.

Having grown up with her father as a senior tactical analyst for many different clubs throughout his career, and an older brother currently playing for Brighton in the Premier League, there was no opportunity for her to escape the fanaticism of the sport. It was what her household lived and breathed, football. Most would think that, with her brother being as successful as he is now, her childhood was shadowed by her brother's success but that's not the case. She capitalised on her ability to think both logically and creatively, and absorbed all of the information her father could give her as if she was a sponge, to establish a name of her own in the sport and advance her career in the sport. At the age of 21 she upped and left the comforts of her home in West London, accepted a position at Juventus within their graduate program & worked her way up the ranks to be their youngest tactical analyst by the age of 24.

So far in her career, the support of her mother, father & brother were unmatched by any. They were all so proud of her for making her own name, proving herself and succeeding in one of the most competitive football leagues in the world. She was smart, tactful, both meticulous and ruthless in her approach to her career and the success of her players. Because after all, they were her players. She worked day in and day out, studying them and their opponents, drafting performance plans and set pieces for every possible outcome of the play, so that they could perform at their best. They had her trust and faith, and she had theirs. This is probably what her family was most proud of, and wished her every success, until she was appointed as a tactical analyst for the Italian National Team for the upcoming Euro 2020 tournament. Which happened to be the same tournament that her brother had received his call up to the Three Lions. Which was the current level at which her father was a senior tactical analyst for the English National Team. The Euro 2020 Tournament was about to be a real family affair...

10 July 2021

It had been 2 months since she last had any contact with her family. 3 months ago, Amelia signed a contract with the Federcalcio, the governing body of football in Italy, to become the Azzurri’s tactical analyst for the foreseeable European Football Championship. In turn, her silky signature at the bottom of the agreement, also constituted a digital and physical contact ban with members of her family that were also involved with the tournament...her father and her brother.

At the time of the contract, and against her better judgement, Amelia hadn’t told her family of her opportunity. She knew her father would be proud, but her brother would be bitter. Her mother was switzerland, completely neutral and rooting for both of her children - but that's not how football works. No matter your role you have a job to do, and you do everything you can to make sure it is your team that lifts the trophy at the end of the tournament. So, on May 23rd her family congratulated her for another successful season at Juventus, and unbeknownst to them, said goodbye for the next 2 months. Until the day before the final match of the tournament, Italy v. England.

Her heart dropped when England won their semi final match against Denmark. She wanted nothing more than for her brother to be happy and for her father to succeed, but she didn’t want to have to go up against them in the final. Ultimately, she knew they were good, but she also knew that she could hold her own and compete with the best. Having a close relationship with her brother, up until this period, meant that she often paid attention to the premier league. This was a major benefit to her as she had already started analysing the azzurri’s opponents. It was her job to know what foot Raheem Sterling preferred to pass with, what direction Declan Rice preferred to take the ball up the field, what direction of receiving the ball did Harry Maguire struggle the most with. So that's how she spent the three days between matches, solidifying her knowledge of her opponents & predicting the plays her dad would be instructing the English team to complete, to attempt to outperform the Italians. However nothing would prepare her for the knock on her suite door, or for what was on the other side…

_____________________________________________________________

“Ciao Amelia, vieni con me per favore. abbiamo organizzato una visita supervisionata con tuo fratello prima della finale di domani sera. sorpresa!” (hi amelia, come with me please. we have arranged a supervised visit with your brother prior to the final tomorrow night. surprise!). I stood there in shock staring at one of my players & closest friends, Federico Bernardeschi. I was a person who didn't enjoy spontaneity, who thrived off of preparation and organisation. I needed the opportunity to overthink every situation so that I could prepare for every possible outcome. This was not my idea of a good time. Of course I missed my brother, but I know just how volatile he can be. Nevertheless, I grabbed my jacket and shoved my sneakers on before following Fede down the hall and into a blacked out van that was waiting to take me to St. George’s Park for my family reunion.

Upon arriving, and after a stern pep talk from Fede (who was my appointed supervisor for the visit - not sure I would say he was the most responsible choice but he did talk some sense into me) I walked into the main entrance and saw my father leaning against the reception desk waiting for me.

“Papa!!” I called as I walked over to him, ready to smother him with my love and affection. My father, Dean White, and I had as good of a relationship as possible, being that he was always heavily involved with my brother Ben’s footballing career as well as his own. I think when I came along, my father didn't know how to be a girl dad, so he took my mothers advice and just involved me like he would Ben. I was glad that I would be seeing him first, and he would be taking me to see my no-doubt pissed off brother.

“Dad, this is Fede, one of my players”

“Ciao Dean, it’s very nice to meet you but i am also her bodyguard for this evening” Fede introduced himself to my father and they exchanged pleasantries. I had a look around the foyer of the facility until I heard my name brought up in conversation.

“Amelia, come on. The boys are just over here. I don’t think you have long before heading back to your camp” My dad called to me. Boys? As in...more than just my brother?

“Hahaha that's funny dad, just show me to his room and we can have our screaming match there. Should only be about 20 or so minutes”

“Ben’s not in his room, we have a recreation room for the players and staff to lounge about and relax in. Pretty sure he’ll be in there. Come on, you’ve never been scared of your brother before. Why start now?” Before I knew it, Dad was leading us through some doors and into a large common area with bean bags, pool tables and couches - all occupied by current first team members of the English National Football team.

“Dean mate, don’t normally see you down here after 7pm. Oh look at that, someone let the trash in.” A loud mouthed player, that I used to adore as if he was my own brother, calls out as he notices us enter the room. And just like that, I shake off my nerves, stand in front of my taller & more argumentative bodyguard, relax my shoulders and stare into the eyes of Kyle Walker - daring him to challenge me and push me further.

“Relax Kyle, Benjamin White - your sister is here to see you.” Dad cut Kyle off. I didn’t need him to defend me against Kyle’s harsh comments, I could defend myself.

“Wow, I thought hell would freeze over before I got the opportunity to speak to you. Of course, I didn't realise hell would look quite like seeing you in that shade of blue.” My brother, Ben, spoke bitterly at me as he approached me from the other side of the room. This, coupled with Walker’s exclamation earlier, got the attention of the majority of the players scattered about.

“Ben, if you let me explain in private I'm sure you will be able to understand why things had to be this way” I tried to reason with him. Letting go of my always-defensive guard and pleading with my big brother to open his mind to see my side of the story.

“As if I would even talk to you right now, the night before the final, you’re probably here to try and get some insider information. Boys make sure you don’t say anything to her, she’s as sly as they come” Ben’s words were as sharp as a knife - but I knew what I had to say would cut him deeper.

“Ok that's enough! You are ridiculous! What did you expect me to do? Not take the job because you’re my brother? This is my career we are talking about here” I challenged him. “If you think for one second i stopped supporting you then you must be even more stupid than i thought. Of course this isn't the ideal situation, I'm proud of you for reaching a final but I'm just as proud of myself for doing the same thing.” I got progressively closer to my brother, who stood there with his hands beside himself, unable to get a word in.

“I came tonight to wish you good luck, to tell you I loved you, to give you a hug and tell you to stay safe and play smart. Whilst I still wish all of this for you, I now want you to know that I want you to play your best so I can be better than you. I can show you exactly how good at my job I am. I want you to know that no matter what way you play the ball, I'll be right there waiting for you. I am prepared for this, I hope you are too - so that it will feel that much more sweet when we beat you” I sneered at my older brother, who at this point, is quite visibly feeling a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

I take a step back, let out a breath and shake the tension from my shoulders. Breaking eye contact with my brother, I look briefly - yet confidently - at the other players in the room and take a step back. I turned to my dad, who was looking at me solemnly, as though he wasn’t happy with my outburst but understood it came from a place of frustration with my sibling. Walking up, giving him a kiss on the cheek and wishing him luck, I turned to look at Fede and began to walk to the door. This interaction with my brother, although supposed to be a nice moment shared between siblings, has only gone and motivated me to be at my best tomorrow, to prepare my players to go to war and to come out the other side victorious.

Part 2 | seconda parte

[kaypeace21]

Will and the car on fire (theories)

*this is just under the assumption this is Will in the pic and not some other character. Which is still very possible .

Why it could be Will (it's for sure possibly not)

But, most of the rebuttals saying it's not Will are iffy. Cause we really don't have much evidence to point to any 1 character. Like the hair counterargument: that the hair is too long to be Will's .Will's s4 body double has a similar hair tuff on the back of his neck. And we know st uses camera shots of the back of Will's neck/silouette ,in past seasons . So doing so here could make sense. And Will of course is the most associated with fire: using fireball for Will the wise in s1 (3 times), the will the wise drawing from s2 had flames on his cloak, Will being being burned in s2,etc.

So...Will looking at lightning. And (Will?) looking at fire. Both have a dark full body sillhouete and red in the forefront .

We also see this character is possibly wearing a watch like Will?

And i've been hearing this a lot here ... but southern california (where the Byers are) does have a lot of trees lol. Not sure why people think otherwise.But, regardless a trip from cali to Hawkins would most certainly have some forrest.

*Also, any movies I’ll be mentioning (in the theories , below) were stated to be inspiration for ST.

So theories...

Theory 1) It's Joyce's car ( and it was rigged  to explode/look like an accident by Brenner or Lonnie). And Will wasn't there but sees it in a nightmare cause it's already happened/or it's a dream vision of the future.

Evidence:  CAR TROUBLES: Joyce’s car model was infamous for exploding in car accidents-being sued by the state of Indianna before the start of the series. We also have Alexi tell murray about a way to cause cars to explode-and turn people into dust (and make it look like an accident). Brenner’s name means “to burn” and he already hurt 1 mother to keep a subject -so not out of the realm of possibilities for him to hurt Joyce (and make it look like an accident to try and get Will and or el). 

In s3, we have Jonathan and Hopper try and fix  the car-and after this cars explode with people inside. Jonathan lifts the car hood- and notices someone rigged nancy’s car . Than,  right after,Billy’s car lights on fire with him inside. With Hopper (he also lifts the car hood) and joyce barely escapes the lit car (but she may not be so lucky next time).

 We also have Joyce tell Will 3x she’s going to be ok... which is a bit overkill if she will be OK ... 

And, notice during the hoodlift we see Will observing- which is similar to Alexi watching and warning them before hand that the car (with Joyce inside) will explode. So it’s possible foreshadowing since Will may predict the future and was was paralleled to Alexi.Alexi ‘can we watch lonnie toons now?. Will : can we play d&d now?

movie inspos: 

It’s hinted s4 will be around Will’s b day: In gilbert grape- Arnie after his b day, has his mom die, and a fire was stagged that lit his mom on fire. ( Before this,Arnie was also raised by his older brother Gilbert cause his dad wasn’t around). stoker-  kid’s parent dies in staged car ‘accident’ on her bday (this allows ab*sive relative closer to kid-since dead parent banned him from seeing kid). The kid  was taught how to hunt, by dad. And is also a painter and bullied at school (like Will). what dreams may come-painter blames themselves for fam dying in freak car accident- the relative was getting a present for them when it happened. so they blame themselves. The descent- also had (right before a b day, the main character’s fam dying in a car accident) .And the sole survivor/family member of the deceased hallucinates a shadow chasing her in a empty hospital hall. Get out-photographer (jonathan)blames himself for mother dying in car accident.

There’s also a lot of other films where the kid (for no logical reason) blames themselves for their mom’s/parent’s death: goodson, dream catcher, analyse this,etc. Of course ... this could simply relate to max and el having survivors guilt after the mall killed their family members (in a fake ‘mall fire’). However, a fake out fire causing  family to die (in s3)  could be foreshadowing for it actually happening in s4?

rigged car explosions: scarface -have guys try and bomb a car with kids and parent inside. backdraft -guy raised by older brother had 1 parent die in explosion and sees the freak explosion occur- later in the film someone rigs a car to explode and masks it as a  freak car accident. Same thing occurs in godfather- he sees family member die in rigged car explosion. The dark knight- rigs car to explode. batman v superman- calls superman a demon and says they need to burn the witch that bore him (aka his mom).

dreams (if in the past): Never ending story (reffed in s3)- starts with kid with bowl cut saying he had another dream about his mother who died. Peanut butter solution- kid has visions in dreams about people he knew who died in fire.  this next movie (emily rose) is  said to be Joyce byers inspo according to Winona - has (kid with 2 personalities) have nightmares from the past  of her and her mother burning in a car fire. while screaming/sleep walking she burns windows with her hands -accidentally using her powers. Some people suspect the videogame “life is strange’ is show inspo too- it has character named max caufield with a ‘never maxine rule’, etc. Anyways in the game prequel queer chloe, who plays d&d, would have dreams/nightmares of her nice parent’s car accident . Despite , chloe not being present for the car accident. After the parent’s death,  she’s stuck with her mean step dad.

dreams (if predicting the future): Will says in s3 Will the wise can see into the future. We also see Will/Will the wise via a dream predict Hopper was in danger-saying  to Joyce “he’s going to die”.  In ‘12 monkeys’ and ‘Rebel Robin st novel’ they mention the myth of cassandra- who could make accurate future prophecies , but was cursed to never be believed by those she warned. In 12 monkeys- he tries warning others of a dreaded event in future- and it’s dismissed as  him being mentally ill. Since, Will’s other abilities were dismissed as his ptsd in s2-and with the Byers fam having a family history of mental illness (they may not believe him over such a prediction). In ‘the ring’-the  movie opens with the guardian saying the boy is drawing the car accident that killed his mom -as a psychological coping mechanism. Only for the teacher to say he made that drawing before his mother’s death (and it’s revealed later the boy is psychic). Terminator 2- sarah conner says she is having future visions, which include explosions, and everyone dismisses it as her being schizophrenic. Like how in s2 a scientist said about Will “let’s see if this boy is a wizard or a schizo”.

If joyce survives the accident she may be hospitlized (and unable to have legal custody). In black swan the girl (with 2 personas) -blames herself for what happened to Winona Ryder’s character (who is in a coma after a car accident. They had had a verbal fight before the accident). In girl with the dragon tattoo- the main character (who is compared to a phoenix and dragon) has 1 parent burned in a fire- and after this her kind guardian is hospitilized so they can no longer take care of her- and she is placed with an ab*sive foster dad (who resembles her bio dad). If Joyce was in a coma - it would further parallel her to terry- and be another willel parallel.

 if dead: Tokyodrift- mom loses custody, and dad who is a mechanic and abandoned the family years ago, later gets custody. Super 8-mom dies in freak accident- douche dad gets custody. Book of henry-mom dies pre-film, ab*sive dad got custody. Outsiders- parents die in car wreck, relative gets custody of teen who he slaps etc.In black swan-girl who blames herself for Winona’s accident is stuck living with ab*sive parent. good son- mom dies, stuck with violent and manipulative relative after this.

Of course-joyce may be fine. And Lonnie may just visit for Will’s b-day and ruin shit that way.

Theory 2) It's an undercover government car that Will uses his powers against in self defense... or in anger after they hurt someone he loves.

Evidence:

Joyce about ‘Will the wise’: If he’s so wise, why does he need the fireballs? Why can’t he just outsmart the bad guys? Will: cause the bad guys are smart too. Joyce: so he needs the fireballs? Will: Yeah, to burn them to a crisp.

* the fact-this flashback happens at a funeral of a Byers, could also be narratively significant as foreshadowing.

Gov agents in s1 are  called “the bad-men” so Will may use fireball on “the bad-guys”(government agents) . Fire has been used on all the other adversaries relating to the upsidedown-so why not the gov agents (aka human villains) next? 2 movies on the inspo list caught my attention: firestarter & carrie (which are both stephen king adaptions with psychic kids who have fire abilities). 

Firestarter- she has pyrokineseis (firepowers) . And unlike every other psychic in the film- she is the only psychic that doesn't get nose bleeds (aka mini brain hemorages) from using her powers (Will). We know el and kali gets nose bleeds.  

(Anger): She only unleashes her fire abilities on gov agents after they kill her parent...

*And uses a literal “fireball” on them.

Could also be another willel parallel. kali about the US gov:" They took your mother away from you!" El str*ngles man from gov agency that incapacitated her mom . El before str*ngling him: " you hurt mama".

(self defense): While  in carrie  she kills people who tried to run her over with a car. And causes the car to explode.

Also, in s3 Steve does technically cause a car to explode to protect Nancy from being run over by a car (so maybe foreshadowing?). I believe, tumblr user ‘bran-who-writes-theoretically” was the first to point out the Carrie/car on fire parallel.

* This car scene could also be added to the list of Willel parallels. El  in s1 uses her powers to flip a government-car upside down. And looks back at it. And it’s a ref to the film Et. So Will causing a government -car to explode and flip upsidedown (referencing carrie) could be a parallel. 

Of course El flipped over a car in s3 to attack the Soviet agents and protect her friends too ( right before losing her powers). Sort of like Steve using his car as a weapon in s3 to protect his friends. so who knows, if not Will, maybe El (wearing a ponytail) got her telekenesis back and she flips the car and it explodes ? To be honest, I just find this explanation too boring, cliche, and predictable. And I still hypothosize the mindflayer took her telekensis (but not her other powers). Since in d&d mindflayers have ‘mage hand’ (what el is called) and ‘telekenesis’/ along with the ability to steal powers from other life forms. But, we’ll see...

Theory 3) The car flips (maybe caused by a deer jumping in the road) and it blows up after the crash- with Joyce inside. And maybe Jonathan survives it/ Will wasn’t there but had a nightmare /vision about it?

Evidence: in s1 Jonathan sees a dead deer that was hit by a car. This could be symbolic : because it related to Jonathan mentioning the hunting story with his dad and how he cried for a week cause he liked the film Bambi. Which in the film : Bambi (a deer) has his mother k*lled. And after his mother’s death, he’s taken in by his douchey dad who was M.I.A for most of his life ,until his mom passed away. And the hunters are the bad guys in the film . In ‘get out’ the photographer , Chris,blames himself for his mother dying in a car accident - and he sees a dead deer hit by a car -and the dying deer was used to symbolize the guilt he has over his mother’s  death. in ‘the long kiss goodnight’ a character is driving home with a friend- they swerve and hit a deer and 1 of them is ejected from the car into the forrest. But their friend is unconscious in the car and it quickly explodes on the road. The survivor turns and sees the car in flames- disoriented they stumble and kill the dying deer. And it’s left ambiguous if they were helping the deer end it’s pain or if it was vengeful-hunting (since it caused the car accident that killed their friend). Cause their face was emotionless from shock.

Even in the st novel "suspicious minds' rabbits- like jonathan was forced to kill on the hunting trip with his dad (around his b-day) represented the bond between mother and child.And the mother sacrificing herself for the baby-to not get k*lled (by Brenner).

-so maybe?? jonathan before he gets the pizza job/car (may have his car break down , like hinted it would in s3).

 So him and Joyce share the car (once his car stops working) and the accident happens while Jonathan is behind the wheel -with Joyce. And after this he gets the job at surfer boy pizza. Billy was a surfer boy and that memory was used to think about his mother who is no longer around (once he's stuck with his ab*sive dad after moving away from Cali). While Jonathan moved to Cali after his mom passed-maybe stuck with Lonnie.Jonathan's actor in recent pics has a blonde mullet - which sort of resembles joyce/Billy's og hair. This may be why he starts doing dr*gs - which is pretty out of character for him- but it could be a coping mechanism(like in the s4 films). One of many examples was 'enter the void'- the older brother was surrogate parent to their lil sibling and after a car accident k*lls his parents , he starts doing dr*gs to cope. Also ‘hunger games’ was on the list- and Katniss (who was a surrogate parent to her litle sibling, like Jonathan is to Will) in the sequel, saw her family die in an explosion. And it really broke her emotionally.

I've mentioned this before but Billy is used to parallel and foil Will and Jonathan. And it may be more than a ... what if Lonnie had custody scenario. But to show how Lonnie (like most ab*sers) will later bring out the worst in the kids (once he does have custody). Like how s3 has Will mimick lonnie with the baseball bat (and we see in s3 Billy being bullied by his dad to play baseball and flashbacks showing him mimicking Neil). I've also discussed how there's a theme with pretty much every character mimicking their parent- for better or worse.

Killing a deer would certainly hint at Jonathan's possible character regression (and mimicking Lonnie to a certain extent). if he not only blames himself for Joyce's death. But is also stuck with his ab*ser.

The animal k*lling motif , and after that, mimicking an a b*sive father is already shown with el. Brenner , in s1,tried to make her k*ll a cat (using her powers) and she refused (similar to the s1 rabbit hunting story of Lonnie forcing Jonathan to k*ll a rabbit ). But in s2, she uses her powers to k*ll a squirrel (and like a deer- it's typical hunting game). Than in s3 el does literally everything Brenner ever asked of her- she spies on people and repeats the words back (like brenner told her to do), she becomes a weapon to ‘fight the commies’ (which was said to be the reason he k*dnapped her in the first place), and when looking into the void to see the mf (she mirrors the words brenner told her - when he made her go into the void to face the demogorgan).

And some s4 movies are literally about being trapped in a house with your ab*ser and slowly losing your mind because of the ab*se and gaslighting- lighthouse , black swan , good son, are prime examples. But movies like scar face , girl with the dragon tattoo, and book of Henry touch on this theme a bit as well. And ordinary people- is about a guy who survived a vehicular accident but his relative in the same accident didn't- and it causes him alot of issues /survivor's guilt.

The shadowy figure could just be Will in the shot - seeing it in a dream before or after it happens?

Theory 4) Will sees a future vision or has his ’now memories’ of someone else's car.

Evidence: i guess the s4 shot parallels El (in s3) spying on Billy while he’s hurting Heather. During that spying scene: the shot is of El near Billy's car. So it’s possibly a diff willel parallel?

If not Will. Who knows ...if El’s telekenesis is gone maybe her spying abilities strengthened and look different because of it (and now she can see background details)?

Theory 5) it's Lonnie's car and Will escapes from the trunk and uses his powers in self defense

Evidence: I’m pretty iffy on this one. This goes back to how people suspected Lonnie took Will in s1 (and could be foreshadowing). Even the recent rebel robin book-has characters say Lonnie probably took Will. Jonathan suspected Will may be at Lonnie’s - so checks Lonnie’s car trunk (to see if Will is there). We also see how the mf in s3, knocked people out by dr*gs/str*ngulation, ties them up, and throws them in a trunk (to k*dnap them). Or how the cops raided jonathan’s trunk- which had stuff to track the demogorgan (and the demogorgan parallels Lonnie) . And after looking in Jonathan’s trunk-they suspected something fishy is going on.

*heather was described as “another me” by Will- who was thrown in the trunk.

movies: “tangled” was on the s4 list- and had an ab*sive parent later try and kidnap their kid ,and that parent ends up dying. in girl with the dragon tattoo (the girl associated with dragons & phoenixes-  lights her  ab*sive bio dad on fire. In ‘drop dead fred’ (girl who is in love with childhood friend, named Mikey, who she met at age 5) lights a imaginary version of her ab*sive parent on fire - while in a trippy memory world. Chrissy accidentally lights her ab*sive relative (nickname “daddy”)  on fire in self defense- in a trippy hell memory scape. in ‘long kiss goodnight- the girl with 2 personalities (Will/will the wise) was kidnapped and put in a trunk and escapes by jumping into a quarry. Not sure if that could relate to a flashback or something else? like in ‘don’t breath’ the older sibling who essentially was a surrogate parent to the younger sibling-mentions how their dad left the family, and her parent would throw her in the trunk for hours as a punishment.

[forcebewitht]

The Loving Curse Of A Wicked, Beautiful Queen Of Mean (Overblot!Vil Schoenheit X Reader)

(Fanart Link: https://twitter.com/mtzk00/status/1349799061218488322?s=19)

A sigh was all too quick to escape your lips as you observed the spectacle that was going on. You had been receiving bad vibes from Vil here and there for quite a bit now- and it was finally time. You just knew. Grim and yourself decided to hide behind a corner to spy on Vil. His body was honestly rather rigid...yet loose as he walked. Like a doll that had learned to walk and was preparing to swing out a long, thin arm at any moment. Vil delivered some swift knocks to Neige's door within the hallway of the backstage area of the arena currently being used for the VDC. You were quick to shush Grim and peer around the corner. Vil's expression was…void. Utterly barren of any and all emotion, as though the great star was finally beginning to dim out. Neige soon opened the door, and an exchange between the two was given. Vil had tried giving Neige some apple juice as a "gift"....that is, until Rook strided in on the scene. The sound of Rook calling Neige's name down the hall sent a shock through Grim, Vil, and even Neige himself. You noted that Vil's eyes grew a bit too large, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. "NEIGE!" Rook was quick to stride over. The gentle, sweet boy named Neige soon turned his head to Rook as he walked over. Rook smiled a bit at Neige as he approached, a faint dazzle being seen in his eyes simply by looking at the boy. "I am sorry to disturb you. One of the staff members is looking for you- they wished to ask you something about the performance. Roi Du Neige….-ah. I mean Neige." Neige peered curiously at Rook. He allowed his head to angle to the side, his skin as pale and precious as snow and his hair as black as the night sky itself. "Roi Du….the way you speak…..are you, perhaps…?" Rook suddenly was very quick to exclaim after Neige's odd observation. "A-AH! I apologize, I just simply am so thirsty after searching for you for such a long time! Ah…but that apple juice you are holding looks delicious. Care to help me out a bit and give it to me, Ro- ahem. Neige? Please?" Neige blinked numerous times, already handing the juice over as humbly asked. "Y-yes, of course! Not a problem at all! Here you go." You notice Vil's posture go even more rigid at the sight of this event. His eyes grew just a bit larger, and you could have sworn that you heard a suppressed grunt. Your eyebrows furrow. He…..he looked like a schemer who had just been caught...nay….a murderer who had just been caught in the act.

Rook beamed out a dazzling smile to Neige, now continuing on with the juice bottle in his gloved hands. "Ah….thank you, Neige. Now, run along to the stage. And….don't come back again." The sudden shift in Rook's tone took you a bit off guard, now watching him a bit more closely. Neige seemed just as confused, for he bats his eyelashes faintly, his already precious, large doe-like eyes widening just a bit. "...Eh? What do you m-mean by that…" After Neige's delayed question, Rook's body seemed to seize up. He suddenly shouted a bit right at the boy, and you could see his eyebrows furrowing under his bangs. "GO, NOW- HURRY UP!" Neige was quick to listen to the instructions and take off in a sudden sprint. Vil's eyes were locked on Neige as he ran away, now slowly fluttering over to Rook. His lavender eyes squint at his Vice Dorm Leader, the star seeming to back up a bit. "Rook….why…" The Vice, however, did not listen. He seemed to be sniffing the bottle's contents with a content smile, his emerald eyes shutting promptly. "Mmmmm~....what a fresh scent. I simply smelled this alluring beverage for a mere moment, and a delicious, prime, red apple just appeared within my very mind. This product from Epel's hometown is really wonderful!" Rook's eyes soon snapped open, the Vice locking eyes with Vil. He seemed to smile, but a dim in his eyes was evident as well. His tone suddenly became more dry yet heightened, as though a mere zombie under the whims and gaze of the Schoenheit male. "I'll drink all of this without sparing a single drop….Roi Du Poison…" Rook began to tilt the bottle up to his lips. Vil seemed to panic, his eyes widening even more as he rose a hand and backed up some more. You and Grim almost ran out, yet the voice of another stopped you both in your tracks- it was Kalim! "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOK! STOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPP- NO!" The leader of the Scarabia Dorm suddenly dashed over to Rook with an intense speed. His hand flew out and was quick to smack the bottle out of Rook's hand entirely. The contents splashed onto the nearby wall. Rook backed up in shock, now locking his confused gaze onto Kalim. "Roi D'or?! What are you doing here?! Wait...Grim and [Y/n] are here, too!" You and Grim ran over and stopped before the small group. Grim was the first one to speak, his bright blue eyes widened. "Kalim, did you just smack that bottle that Rook was holding?! Why?!" You were quick to fold your arms over your chest and straighten, staring at Kalim's freakishly serious expression. "He would not have done so without a good reason." Kalim was currently out of breath, gasping for air. "Ah...haaaa…..I made it in time!" Vil's eyes widened evermore, now taking yet another step back. "What….are you….doing…?" Suddenly, an odd squelching sound was heard from the wall where the juice had shattered and splashed. The contents of the juice began to both darken and thicken considerably, the juice itself now a deep, sickly green shade. Your eyes widened as you almost immediately were able to lock onto what was going on thanks to your dreams- it was poison! Grim soon expressed his concerns with the juice's appearance while Kalim turned his head to Vil. Even still, the normally bright boy looked utterly serious. "...Vil. This is the juice that you put a curse on with your Unique Magic, right? I had a bad sensation that something was going to happen concerning you….when I saw your expression whilst watching Neige's rehearsal performance." Kalim's voice deepened a bit, now allowing his eyes to faintly squint at Vil from his current position. "....It is the same expression Jamil had on his face before he Overblotted during the holidays." You turn your head to look at Vil- and freeze. He had locked his gaze right back onto Kalim...there it was again. A bone-chilling, void, utterly vicious stare. His body seemed stiff as his arms rested at his sides. He didn't even look to be breathing, a shadow now being cast over his eyes. This soon changed slightly as he turned his head to Rook. "....Rook. Why did you want to drink the juice? You should know better than anyone….that you would not have remained alive if you drank it." You and Grim shared a worried look- so he was going to murder Neige! Rook blinked a few times at the question, soon giving his answer with the utmost confidence and grace. "I wanted to believe you. The star that has been shining and streaking so far across the sky to reach the top. I believed that you would never commit such a crime and hinder your precious beauty...but. At the same time, if your precious magic and hands had crafted such a wicked tool of vengeance to smite your opponent...I wished to taste it only once. The taste of your poisonous fruits of your obsession for beauty!" Vil backed up a bit more, the sweat running down his forehead once more. Kalim was quick to retort, now worried himself. "What are you talking about, Rook?! I will not let that happen! Hey, Vil! Do you understand how stupid your actions were?! Let's show the other team a performance that will make them feel like worthless potatoes in a sack...Didn't you say we have to win the contest with our show-stopping performance?! Why?! Why would you try to kill Neige just to succeed?!" Vil's expression had shifted back to the blank one as Kalim spoke. Suddenly, upon the last few lines, he began to chuckle. "Heh...heheh…I wish to know the answers myself. But...I have come to realize….THAT I WON'T BE ABLE TO WIN AGAINST HIM! That's w-why I...i wanted to end his life...by my own hands!" Vil's voice trembled and shook with raw power and rage as he boomed out his reply throughout the halls. You gasped as you felt a sudden, odd shift in the air. The poisonous juice upon the ground was beginning to shift into a deeply purple appearance, now. A smoke began to build up from it, already beginning to restrict the proper patterns of breathing from the members of your little team. Kalim began to cough, closing his eyes as Rook warned everyone not to inhale it. "[Y/n], Kalim, Grim! Do not inhale it! This is Vil's Unique Magic- Fairest One Of All! He can put a curse onto any object. That poisonous juice has now been transformed into this restricting mist! If we breathe in a certain amount, our bodies will become paralyzed within an instant! But….one bottle of this could not have turned into this mess….unless….no!" Vil began to back up even more. His eyes widened, tears pricking at his eyes. "D-don't look at me like t-that...STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! Why….I wanted to become the most beautiful being in the world...but...why am I so...ugly...ugly….UGLY!"

Rook and Kalim began to jump to Vil's defense and say that he didn't kill anyone...but you could already feel the truth of what he was feeling. Vil had acted….like a villain. He was going to murder someone just like one. Your expression was quick to morph into one of raw pity, now watching Vil with a worried expression. He looked so panicked. Like a little boy who had lost his mother within a candy store, or a deer caught in headlights. The male's voice suddenly trembled at Kalim's declaration and boomed out again. "SHUT UP! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ME?!" Your group began to panic, now watching the juice bubble and fizz into more mist. Vil let out a bone-chilling, deeply crazed laugh of triumph at the sheer fear. "AHAHAHAHAHHA! T-that's right! That's what I want! If everyone else around me becomes ugly….finally...finally….I CAN BECOME THE FAIREST ONE OF ALL!" The air around Vil began to shift. He beamed out a devilish smile. You stumbled backwards- and that was your mistake. Vil's head was quick to whip over to you and lock on. His eyes dazzled as he stared at you. Oh, [Y/n]. Sweet, sweet little [Y/n]. He had to admit, he actually had so deeply wished to allow you to be on his team and not be shunned to the sidelines with that pest of a monster. And yet, you counted as one student. Thus, if he let you in, Grim would have to come along with you. Oh, how he despised that little rule. Vil got a good look at you, his head tilting to the side. My, my...even with that fear, the darling had a certain grace about them that was almost too rich for Vil to ignore. His lips perked up into an even bigger grin. He began to stalk forward, you feeling your legs begin to shake from the sheer intensity of his stare. And just like that...the boy began to sing out a declaration of his own. "I'm so tired of pretending….where's my happy ending? I followed all the rules, I drew inside the lines...I never asked for anything that wasn't mine. I waited patiently for my time...but when it finally came….they called his name. And now, I feel this overwhelming pain! I mean, it's in my veins! I mean, it's in my brain! My thoughts are running in a circle like a toy train...I'm kind of like a perfect picture with a broken frame...and I know exactly who to blame." Vil began to stalk towards you, stepping over his own juice as Kalim and Rook began to cough even further. They began to attempt to fire spells at him to keep him back, but it was useless. He was utterly transfixed on you, now. "I never thought of myself as mean...I always thought I'd be like the Queen! And there's NO INBETWEEN! 'Cause if I can't have that? Then I shall be the leader of the dark and the bad….now there's a devil on my shoulder where the angels used to be….and they're calling me the Queen.." You began to backtrack a bit further. Vil was quick to  suddenly grab you by the arm, now slowly dragging you towards him. You fought and struggled against his vice grip, your eyes wide in confusion and sheer panic. Grim got riled up and began firing more fire spells- but Vil's mist seemed to dissipate most of them. Vil smiled down at you with a bright grin that could make even the toughest of people's blood run cold. "Being nice was my pastime...but I've been hurt for the last time...and I won't ever let another person take advantage of me- the anger burns my skin, third degree. Now my blood's boiling hotter than a fiery sea! There's nobody getting close to me! They're gonna bow to their Evil Queen! Their nightmares are my dreams! Just wait until they fall to my wicked schemes~" Right as Vil had gone to caress your cheek, you were able to jerk yourself from his grip. You stumbled back into the wall, now slowly backing up with the still sputtering Kalim, Grim, and Rook. Vil just smiled even brighter. "I never thought of myself as mean...I always thought that I'd be the Queen! And there's NO INBETWEEN! 'Cause if I can't have that? I would be the leader of the dark and the bad. Now, there's a devil on my shoulder where the angels used to be...and he's calling me...the Queen of Mean….the Queen of Mean!" Vil's head suddenly snapped over to the shattered apple juice bottle, as though he heard a voice. He slowly bent down and picked up a shard that had an apple on the front of it with part of Epel's family name. "The Queen of Mean…." His head slowly craned up, that blank stare back once more. Then, his lavender gaze trailed back to you. He slowly began to stalk forward once more, his head tilting. "Something is pulling me….it's so magnetic. My body is moving...unsure of where I am headed...all of my senses have left me defenseless...this darkness around me is promising vengeance. The price that I'm willing to pay is expensive- there's nothing to lose when you're ugly and friendless. So...my only interest...is showing that 'princess'...THAT I AM THE QUEEN AND MY REIGN WILL BE ENDLESS!"

The mist whipped around your group and knocked Kalim, Rook, and Grim back into the nearby wall. The poisonous substance along with some ink whipped around Vil's form. You gasped, watching the transformation take place. Vil had now Overblotted. He beamed out an even larger smile than before, raising his hands which displayed long, flowing, dark pieces of fabric that attached to the rest of his form. His right eye erupted in a deep purple, fiery glow, a veil upon his head. He looked...wickedly beautiful. Vil's hands raised as his eyes widened, the sheer power that was now coming off of him in waves utterly taking your breath away. "I WANT WHAT I DESERVE! I WANT TO RULE THE WORLD! SIT BACK AND WATCH THEM LEARN! IT'S FINALLY MY TURN!" Suddenly, the whipping of a carpet's tassels in the wind combated with a shouting voice cut through the air- it was Jamil! "EVERYONE, QUICKLY, HOP ON!" Kalim's gaze lit up at his Vice Dorm Head, and he did not hesitate to get on. Rook followed, then Grim. Right when you were about to join- a hand with sharp, claw-like nails curled around your top and yanked you back a bit. Vil made extra careful care with you to ensure that you did not puncture yourself upon the oddly sharp, jagged knive-like belt around his waist. The others began to cry out to you, but you soon locked eyes with Jamil. The boy stiffened, taking heed in your current gaze...and he understood. He was quick to get the flying carpet out of there. You were far more cunning than you looked. You could handle this. Vil seemed to laugh in his triumph, now allowing his hands to trail down your waist and watch the group go... they could wait. "If they want a villain for a queen...I'm gonna be one like they've never seen. I'll SHOW THEM WHAT IT MEANS! HAHA! Now that I am that! I shall be the ruler of the dark and the bad…'cause the devil's on my shoulder where the angels used to be...and he's calling me~" Vil pulled you even closer to him, gently arching your back a bit so that you would not injure yourself upon the belt on his form. He began to trail kisses along your neck in a sickly sweet manner, taking his prize for his wickedness. He chuckled at the feeling of your soft skin against his lips, keeping the motions up. Soon, Vil gently pulled away and spun you around to face him. You felt as though you could shrink under that gaze. "The Queen of Mean….the Queen of Mean…..I WANT WHAT I DESERVE!" Vil's lips suddenly smashed upon your own as he yanked you closer to him. Right as he did so, a crackle of lightning seemed to rumble and shake the grounds of the very stadium, a sudden burst of that mist shooting out past the two of you. Your eyes widened as he kissed your lips, his lips irresistibly smooth, soft, and plump. And funny enough...his lips tasted like apples. Perhaps this was his own, personal poison...the loving curse of a wicked, beautiful queen of mean.

((Hello hello, my lovely Readers! The day has finally arrived, as this fanfiction has! Rook, Kalim, Neige, and Vil were honestly a welcome surprise to write for! I hope everyone enjoyed this, and I shall see you in the next one~ <3

[sasuhinasno1fan]

A wish for a different life - Adrien AUGreste Day 6

Longer and late but I didn't have a great mental day so it took a while to get to my laptop. But I think this has a few more obvious hints as to who Scarlet Bug and Catseye are. Hope you enjoy.

Masks

“Si, si.” Adrien listened to his mother talk on the phone as she rushed around getting ready. Ever since Syren, work had been busier than usual for his mom. He guessed when Hawkmoth in turn created Paris into Italy’s eventual future, that put an even bigger target on him as a threat. He wondered if Hawkmoth even seemed to care. Adrien knew that Scarlet Bug had this ability – Miraculous Reset according to Alya – that fixed any damage created from the akuma. But what if there was a situation where they couldn’t use it? What then? His mom was working with everyone else to offer solutions and help so plans were in place in case something happened. It did mean that she’d be spending her day inside, when the biggest music festival in France was taking place. “Adrien, have you seen-?”

Adrien picked up the Spirited Away clear file and held it over his head. “In the kitchen.”

“Gratzi caro. Si, si, gratzi.” His mother continued, taking the file and pressing her cheek against his.

His mother moved like a whirlwind making him feel like he wasn’t doing anything at all as he ate breakfast and did his daily language lesson on his phone. He was brushing up on his Chinese, meeting Marinette’s mother making him wanting to get better when he realised that her Shanghai dialect made it a bit hard to understand at times, but he was more than willing to learn. She’d pointed him in the direction of the app she suggested for Marinette to practise with.

“Oddio. Adrien, do you know where I put-?”

He pointed back to where her room was. “Probably left it in the bathroom if you picked it up after waking up.”

Thankfully, while wild and crazy in appearance, this was something Adrien was used to. He looked at the time and realised they were both going to have to leave soon. His mom offered to drop him off at the boathouse and Adrien didn’t feel like testing the metro during a citywide music festival. He stuffed the last of his breakfast in his mouth, washing the plate off and sticking it into the dishwasher. He quickly brushed his teeth, looking over his oversized hoodie and cuffed jeans, hoping he didn’t overheat while helping the band get ready. Rose had also mentioned they might need a keyboard player and jumped at the chance when Adrien mentioned he played. He’d have to make sure that he bugged Rose for sheet music when he got there. He’d just spit out the mouthwash and washed his mouth again to get rid of the stinging taste when his mother called for him. He grabbed his bag, pushing his wide brim hat on his head and followed his mother out the door.

He moved her away from walls she could crash into all the way from the elevator and to the embassy car. She was focused on whatever emails she had as Adrien gave the address to the driver and finished his own language lesson. Eventually, the car pulled up as far as it could go to where Adrien could see the houseboat in its full glory, just as Juleka described. Finally, his mother looked up.

“Have a great time caro. Make sure to have your friends record if you play alright?” she pressed a kiss onto his cheek and he felt her lipstick leave a mark. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Good luck in your meetings!” he got out and waved to his mother as the car pulled back into traffic and left.

The Couffaine houseboat was a massive barge. It was colourful and loud and the mess on the deck reflected that. The makeshift stage was already set, most pieces being put into place by Ivan under Rose’s orders while Juleka set up the technical parts of it.

“You’re here!” Nino cried from the ladder he was on. He seemed to be stringing bunting across the metal stands around the stage. Just across it was a covered area that reminded Adrien of the Floral Hall at London’s Royal Opera house, with the plexiglass covering and antique looking seating. He could just see the front of the helm over the roof of the sitting area. “Nice mark.”

Adrien then remembered the kiss on his cheek. “Mama dropped me off. I hope I didn’t miss much.”

“Not much. Thanks to Ivan’s muscles, almost every instrument is in place and Juleka is like a ninja with how fast she’s putting the stuff in place. Marinette did try cleaning though and we got to meet Mml. Couffaine. Juleka is quite and I don’t know her brother but there mom?” he nodded to the energetic woman who was lecturing Marinette on how chaos created creativity. A bit odd in terms of living, but who was Adrien to judge?

“And who’s this buccaneer?”

“Sorry I didn’t ask for permission to board. I’m Adrien. I’m kinda new in your daughter’s class.”

Her blue eyes sparkling mischievously, Mml. Couffaine asked, “learn that from Pirates of the Caribbean?”

“Captain Jack Sparrow is a god and his lessons don’t cost a buck-an-ear.” Adrien said, ignoring his friends groans as he gave the Couffaine mother finger guns. She found it hilarious though.

“Luka mentioned you’ve got jokes. Pleasure to finally met the boy my kids can’t stop talking about. Speaking of, mind grabbing him? Looks like set up is almost done.”

“Of course. Just point me in the direction.”

“Through the lounge and into the lower deck of the ship. He’ll be in his cabin. And the name’s Captain Anarka. None of the mademoiselle stuff.”

“Yes Captain.”

He took in the bright and welcoming open concept kitchen as he headed down the hallway, jumping slightly when he realised that Luka’s cabin was actually shared with Juleka. The room was split in two, Juleka’s side darker to fit her style while Luka’s, other than the posters to Jagged Stone, looked a bit bare. It was clear that music was the main focus with the guitar pick display and amp that acted as a bedside table to a half-eaten plate of cookies. Luka sat cross-legged on his bed, meditating. He seemed focused that Adrien didn’t want to interrupt.

“I can feel you staring.” Luka said, his eyes still closed and his voice low.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

Luka opened his eyes, the same blue his mother had but with hints of green focused on him. “You could never be. I’m glad you came.” He picked up his guitar, resting it on his lap as he patted the now empty space for Adrien to sit. “you’ve got something in your heart though.” He started to play a melody on his guitar. Adrien felt his eyes widen as the music spoke to him, about him, speaking about his mild anger that his mom was once again busy, the sadness of missing his mom, the spark of happiness he held onto to remind himself she was helping people and the mild selfishness of wanting to smuggle his mother away just for a while. Luka once told him he felt like he was better with music than he was with words. He had no clue this is what he meant.

“Wow,” he breathed as the last set of notes faded. “That was, how did you do that?”

“Music tends to be clearer than words. I’m sure you’ve heard about Juleka’s ‘curse’? about not getting her picture taken? It was never a curse, at least not to me, just bad luck. I like to think that our mom’s chaos gave us extra, I don’t know, charms? I’m an empath, always been affected by strong emotions. You should have seen me when I was younger before my mom was able to get answers. I was probably the worst behaved kid. But music, it’s always been that one thing to calm me down and help me feel cantered.”

“Wow. I mean, I’ve always like playing piano but that was mostly because my dad taught me and we like playing together. I never knew it could have such an affect on people.” Adrien admitted, wondering if that’s why his dad was so insistent that he should learn how to play an instrument, to be an outlet to his feelings. it made sense, a lot of their deeper talks took place on the piano bench.

“You’d be surprised. That’s why I like Jagged Stone.” He nods his head to the poster with the pick display underneath. “He’s mentioned in interviews that his music shows his emotions. That he can get people to understand how he’s feeling through just a few notes. How do you let your mom know how you feel?

Adrien felt his face turn red. “I still keep it quiet, but I did talk to her. I just still feel selfish bugging her about this.” Luka raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that made him sigh. “But it’s not selfish to let my mom know how I feel. I know. I did tell her, I promise. This project she’s working on now is really important so she can’t take off just for me, but she knows how I feel and tries to do little things to make it better.”

“That’s why my mom lives on chaos. If we can’t be truthful and forthcoming in this madness, when can we be to our parents? Here.” Luka got up, sliding his guitar over his shoulder and chose one of the picks and handed it to Adrien. “Whenever you want to talk to your mom but feel like you shouldn’t, just try and remember there are other ways you can talk to her.”

Adrien’s thumb brushed over the treble clef heart before looking at Luka’s calming smile. “I’ll try.”

“That’s the best we can hope for. So, did you just come to say hi?”

“And tell you everyone is ready for rehearsal. I still don’t know if you guys wanted me to join.”

“I’d be extremely happy if you did, but Rose is the one who’s got the vibe in mind. Don’t worry, you’re still considered a member of Kitty Section.” Luka said, a gentle hand on Adrien’s back leading them both back upstairs. “Besides, it might be better for your ears.”

Adrien felt confused at the comment but joined the others and Mylene, who he somehow missed. He watched Captain stand behind a whole sound system that looked like it belonged in a music studio while her children ran through scales to make sure they were in tune.

“You two took a while to come back.” Alya said, raising a teasing eyebrow at Adrien.

He leaned around her and gave Nino an unimpressed look as the DJ shrugged. He only told Nino about his crush on Luka because he didn’t want Marinette to feel awkward since she had just gotten over his crush on him. He should have remembered Nino was incapable of keeping a secret from his girlfriend. She was stubborn and unwilling to give up when she thought someone was hiding something.

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Gentleman my ass. You are a sunshine gremlin and you know it.”

Adrien stuck his tongue out as the Captain spoke up. “Alright mateys! Hold on to your tricorns! Whenever you’re ready Luka.”

Adrien then realised that Luka was standing next to something tall covered with a sheet. With a yank, it was revealed to be a large speaker. He became concerned when Luka plugged his guitar into it and even more when Mylene handed them all earplugs.

“You’re going to need these. Trust me.”

She was extremely right. One strum had the whole boat shaking and the soundwave seemed to echo through the whole city. Adrien and Nino struggled to keep their hats on, everyone feeling like they’d been dropped in the middle of the electric guitar as it played around them. it was clear the noise was nothing new as no one except him, Nino, Alya and Marinette seemed surprised. What was new was the appearance of police helicopters, boats and one car containing a very rule heavy and annoyed Agent Roger.

“Are you crazy Mml. Anarka? You are at 160 dB, ten times the sound of a plane taking off! You need to play something else!” he screamed into his megaphone.

Not one to be outdone by the noise, Anarka took her own radio that was attached to the PA system. “Might I remind you this is a Music Festival Agent Roger?” Something told Adrien they got visited by the police often. “My crew can play whatever they want.”

The argument quickly went from how loud the music was to the legality of where the Liberty was docked. When the tickets started to rain and Anarka’s temper started to rise, Adrien decided to step in. what use was diplomatic immunity if he didn’t use it for good reasons?

“Officer Roger, was it? You do realise for all your spouting about rules needing to be followed, that you’re abusing your power, right? A ticket for the decorations? On a barge that’s private property?”

“And who are you?”

“Adrien Rossi. My mother is a diplomate from Italy and I’m sure the Italian Embassy would love to hear that your harassing one of their citizens unjustly.”

“Are you threatening me? I can have you arrested!” Agent Roger threatened, though Adrien wasn’t bothered.

“Diplomatic immunity. You can’t. and you can be upset about the noise but not about everything else.”

“I am the law! I can do whatever I please. Including giving tickets for the Captain’s attitude, my seasickness and just because I feel like it!”

Adrien was starting to get annoyed with the officer. He was ready to start an argument, maybe even threaten to get his mother on the phone when Agent Roger turned and ordered the officers to disperse. He threatened to have the Liberty removed if the volume wasn’t turned down as he climbed back into his car. He watched the Captain storm off to the haul and looked at his friends.

“What is his problem? He can’t give half those tickets he just gave.”

“Agent Roger just has a kinda twisted sense of justice. He believes in innocent until proven guilty, but he tends to take it way too far. Probably doesn’t help that he works directly for the Mayor, since Sabrina and Chloe are friends.” Mylene explained.

“That’s Sabrina’s dad? Jez, I know she’s a bit timid but no wonder if she hangs out with Chloe and her dad all the time.”

“She can be devious when she wants.” Juleka said, looking over at the haul. “We should probably check on our maman though.”

Before she could move though, a black bubbling rose from the haul and started to cover the whole ship.

“Akumatization!” Alya called.

“Maman!” Juleka and Luka called.

Before they knew it, the Liberty had been turned into a punk rock pirate ship and their mother now stood before them in fitting attire and hair.

“Hoist the mainsail and cast off mateys! There’s piracy in the air! I am Captain Hardrock and today Paris shall tremble under the fire of my cannons. Soon there will be only one concert, one Music Festival. Gather up your instruments and turn up the decibels! All hands-on deck!”

“Maman, stop it! Don’t ruin the festival like this.” Luka called.

“We won’t play under these conditions!” Ivan yelled.

“A mutiny? Your very last! Liberty, capture those rats and send them to the hold!”

Iron chains seemed to shoot out from nowhere and tied them all up. Adrien groaned as he was tied together with the Couffaine children and the others in pairs. He let out a scream as the floor beneath them dropped and they all went rolling down. where they were dropped dimmed in light as the floor closed back up, leaving them all groaning in pain.

“Marinette, you’re squishing me.” Rose cried, muffled on her front.

It took a bit of finagling but they were all about to sit themselves up, their chains wouldn’t budge. Not even Ivan was able to rip his open when he managed to grab it, leaving him to just hold Mylene’s hand.

“The city would have been alerted.” Alya said out loud, though with how shaky her voice sounded, it was probably to distract herself. “That means Scarlet Bug and Catseye can’t be far.”

“How much you wanna bet Agent Roger will still try to arrest maman?” Luka asked, grabbing at the lock.

“Wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried arresting an Akuma. You’d think he’d learn by now.” Juleka said.

“Arrest an Akuma? Oddio, what is wrong with you French people?” Adrien asked, surprised at how calm Luka and Juleka seemed.

“Guess we’re just bred different. Got it!” the chains around them loosened as the lock was undone and taken off.

“How did you do that?” Adrien asked as they shook off the chains and stood up.

Luka held up the guitar pick he’d been using earlier. “Has more than one use.”

Adrien let out a stunned laugh, “You are some magician. How did you even manage to get that in your hand and unlock the lock?”

“Excuse me? We’d all like to know as we’re still tied up here.” Nino called from over Alya’s shoulder.

The sound of Hardrock’s laughter echoed with her footsteps as she came downstairs.

“She’s coming down! you guys need to go!” Marinette called.

“We’ll get you out soon, promise. Come on.” Juleka led the three of them through one of the doors as the one opposite them opened.

The rest of the captives flinched at the glowing red of Hardrock’s sword and even more when she started kicking at the door. When it burst open, they heard Adrien calling, “Quick you two, go!”

“Capture him!”

Adrien struggled as he was dragged out of the room in new chains, Capitan Hardrock storming back above deck.

“Where’s Luka and Juleka?” Rose whispered.

“Hiding. She thought they got off the ship. They might be able to actually get off and let Scarlet Bug and Catseye know what’s going on.”

They all listened to the sounds of cannon fire and accompanying high pitched sounds. There was even at one point, sounds of police boats, just like the siblings had said would happen.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but the akuma plants itself onto something right? Like a messed up Youma from Sailor Moon.” Adrien asked. “So where could this akuma of planted itself?”

“She was in the haul. Could it have been the tickets?” Rose asked.

“But what about the ship listening to her every command?” Nino questioned.

“It could be like Fang? Jagged Stone’s alligator who got akumatized with him.” Ivan pointed out.

“Unless, it’s the ship itself. Like Rose said, Captain Anarka was in the haul when this happened.”

“Oh! I just remembered! I had been putting back the things I cleaned up. The compass started going crazy because I put a metal statue on top of it. If the ship only listens to her, what if it got confused?” Marinette asked.

The sounds of more footsteps and Hardrock’s cries echoed down into the hold before the sound of a door and rushing footsteps got closer and a person in red and black appeared.

“Scarlet Bug!”

Adrien took a moment to take in the hero in person. He’d only seen pictures and that one time they’d landed on the roof across from the Embassy so he took in every detail. From the black boots the red spotted suit was tucked into and the hooded jacket that covered the top half. Red hair peeked out from the pulled-up hood and red mask framed bright blue eyes. The red thing Adrien had noticed before was a yoyo as they spun it and launched it at all of them, breaking the chains. Adrien pushed himself up as a hand appeared in front of him. Looking up, he saw Scarlet Bug staring down at him, holding his hat.

“I know the people in the room, but I don’t think I know you.” the hero said, pulling Adrien up onto his feet.

“Adrien. I’m Adrien.”

Scarlet Bug placed the hat back on Adrien’s head, pulling it just enough for it to stay. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Adrien.” The blue eyes sparkled like they hid a secret.

“You too. Um, Luka and Juleka. They…” why was he so flustered by Scarlet Bug?

“Safe. They managed to get off and warn us. It looks like the barge is hard to damage. I need to get back out of there but we need to get you all off first before we can really do damage.”

“Oh, we think the akumatized item is the boat itself! Also, the compass gets messed up with metal!” Rose cried.

“Got it.”

“Scarlet!” a female voice cried. “A little help please!

“Crap. Ok, I might not be able to get you out, but I want you ready to move when I give the word ok? Lucky Charm!” Adrien watched as a bike lock appeared from a cluster of glittering ladybugs. “Looks like we might get to test your theory after all.”

When Scarlet Bug rushed out to head back on deck again, it took Alya only moments before she pulled out her phone and rushed after the bug hero.

“Alya! Where are you going?” Adrien called after her.

“I haven’t gotten a fight on camera in weeks.”

“They’re going to scold you again. Get back here!” Marinette called after her best friend. “She’s gonna die one of these days. Come on.”

They reached the deck just as cannons were going off and the laser beam destroyed one of the many bridges. Hardrock’s laughter could be heard but they didn’t see Scarlet Bug or Catseye anywhere.

“Ready to fire at City Hall.”

City Hall? As in where his mother was doing her meeting with the Mayor in between his appearances on TV for the National Orchestra?

Thankfully, the heroes appeared on the massive guitar that acted at the front of the ship. Adrien noticed that Catseye’s dressed reminded him of Mew Ichigo’s dress but with attached bell sleeves. The white of the lace on the dress and the ribbon on her tail offset the black she was decked in and the green in her pigtails. Even her ears had green fur.

“There you are! The time has come for you to sink once and for all!” the chains reappeared as they aimed for the heroes, Hardrock riding one with her sword at the ready. Alya led them out onto the deck to record the two heroes leap and catch the Akuma in the bike lock and lock her onto the compass stand. The ship started to move sporadically as Hardrock yelled at them to get away from the compass.

“Alya Césaire! I can’t believe you brought them up here!” Catseye yelled as she and Scarlet Bug landed on the deck near them, moving seamlessly with the ship’s movement.

“Hold on!” Scarlet Bug cried as the boat headed to ramp like structure in front of a park.

Unlike the heroes, the rest of the group didn’t have much balance, mostly landing on the floor and grabbing onto the railing. Adrien stumbled over someone’s foot and harshly hit the railing as the boat was launched into the air. Without holding onto anything, he felt his body leave the boat and tumble over the railing.

“Adrien!”

“Ahh!”

Adrien shut his eyes as wind rushed past him and when something grabbed onto him, he grabbed back just as tight. He heard the sound of tightening cord before he felt whatever slow him down until he was floating. He slowly peeled his eyes open and realised he was looking at spotted fabric. He felt hair brush against his cheek as Scarlet Bug asked, “You ok?”

His voice – Adrien was guessing as the voice sounded masculine – was low but calming. He felt one arm around his waist holding them tight together. Adrien’s own voice hadn’t started working again, so he nodded.

“Cataclysm!”

“Hold on.” They started falling again and Adrien felt another arm grab his legs and pull them up so he was being princess carried as Scarlet Bug landed in a crouch, much like his cat like partner. he watched his friends all land onto the ground as the boat disintegrated, leaving Hardrock on the ground in the middle of it. “Oh no you don’t.” Leaving Adrien’s legs propped up on his own, Scarlet Bug launched his yoyo at the purple butterfly that was attempting to escape. Like something from the magical girl animes Adrien could devour, he watched the butterfly be captured before being released as a pure white one and Hardrock turn back into Anarka.

“Holy crap.” Adrien breathed in English, cringing when he realised Scarlet Bug could have understood him.

Standing him back up on his feet, Scarlet Bug fixed his hat again and gave a small bow. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope this experience didn’t paint us in a horrible light.”

“You just saved my life. I don’t think anything could.”

“Thank goodness for that. Cat, come on, give it a rest. I think she’s learned her lesson.” Scarlet Bug was distracted by Catseye giving a massive lecture to Alya, just as promised. Adrien watched him push his hood down, revealing the red hair with a black undertone all tied up. He was like nothing Adrien had ever seen. “Hold on everyone. Miraculous Reset!”

When the bike lock was thrown into the air, the sparkling ladybugs spirited them away back onto the Liberty, in it’s all chaos glory as well as fixing the damages done. Adrien blinked the glitter out of his eyes to watch the heroes wave and take off towards the rooftops.

This was his first time ever meeting the heroes of Paris and being directly involved in an Akuma attack. It was awesome. Scary yes, but Adrien slightly understood why Alya went chasing them.

                                               _______________

“The music is still loud for my taste, but I’ll let it slid this time. After all, this is a music festival.” Agent Roger said after testing the groups instrument volume again. “And uh, no need to involve foreign officials.”

“It would be extra work for them. thank you so much for understanding.” Adrien said, with a Cheshire like smile on his lips as he grinned from behind sheet music.

“I can’t believe you’re flexing diplomatic power.” Alya said, nudging him with her elbow.

“Alya, thanks to you, I got thrown from a ship. You don’t get to question my methods.”

“Maybe now you’ll stop running into fights?” Marinette continued.

Ayla pouted as another lecture started up, but Adrien ignored it as he focused on the sheet music. When Luka and Juleka came running back to the ship, Rose burst into tears at the thought of her girlfriend being hurt. It took time for her to stop crying and she had decided then and there that Adrien had to play with them. when he saw that they had an original ZX20.4, he’d been coerced into agreeing.

“Hey. Feeling ok?” Luka asked, pushing his guitar to rest on his back.

“You’ve asked me that three times already.”

“You were thrown out of a ship. I think I’m allowed to be worried. Even if you were saved by one of Paris’ heroes. Any different to meeting a US hero?”

“Kinda? A decent number of them are focused on bringing joy to citizens than fighting villains so there was that difference. Is it normal to get flustered around heroes?”

“Why? Does Scarlet Bug have an admirer?” Luka teased.

Adrien smacked his chest with the sheet music. “No! not like that. He’s just, I don’t know, nice. And also, way out of my league. I know I get crushes easily, but not that easily.”

“Oh? What exactly makes you attracted to a person?” Luka asked, his voice pitching lower as he leaned in.

Adrien felt his face turn red at the sudden question when Rose called for their attention.

“You can tell me later.” Luka said, winking at him and heading to the stage. It took Adrien a bit to calm down enough to follow him.

He had no business flirting like that. But all Adrien hoped, as he followed along to Rose’s screams, was that he’d be able to flirt back.

[ladyfogg]

King of Wands

King of Wands

Fic Summary: When you first started with the show, Jimmy asked for a reading but you turned him away because it wasn’t time. Now that he’s sitting in front of you and the cards are all laid out, it’s time to tell him exactly what his future holds. 

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Jimmy Darling/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. Just, lots of smut. 

A/N: Look, thought of this and wrote it in the last two hours. Just needed to get this gem out of my brain. 

You’re a reader. 

A tarot reader that is. 

It started when you were a child and your grandmother passed away. She gifted you the set that belonged to her mother and hers before that. Your mother never bought into tarot cards and had refused the family heirloom. The moment those cards were placed in your hand, however, everything changed. 

You were obsessed, pouring over the little instructional book day after day, memorizing each card and what they meant. It wasn’t until you performed your first reading that you realized the obsession went far deeper than you ever realized. 

You began to see the cards just by looking at someone. You couldn’t explain it. It was subtle at first, just the card name floating through your mind. But then it became visual, sort of like when photographs were overlaid over each other. You knew exactly what card you would pull before you even started shuffling. And you were always right. 

It scared people. 

At first, you were labeled a fraud; shamed for a gift you had no control over. Then you were hated. People tended to get a bit cranky when you revealed their spouse was cheating on them or that you knew about the little money laundering scheme they had going on. But they were furious when you told them the depths of their character. They didn’t like when you peered into their soul and made them face the parts of themselves they kept locked away. 

One day, they stormed your house, ready to run you out of town. You barely had time to grab your grandmother’s cards before fleeing into the darkness. 

That’s when you met Elsa. And everything changed. See, she had heard about your gifts and had come to check you out herself. She was The Moon. You saw it the second you laid your eyes on her. Fear and anxiety, but full of intuition and illusions of grandeur. You liked her and you knew that you would be safe with her and her show. Though, you warned her that if she didn’t deal with her past trauma it would come back to bite her in the ass. 

She laughed at your boldness. 

That first night you slept more peacefully than you had in years. You were given a trailer, one that would act as your home and your workspace. For the first time in your life, you had a home that was all yours and you cherished it just as much as your grandmother’s cards. The house you lived in before with your parents never felt like home. Not since you started reading cards. 

You didn’t meet everyone until the next morning at breakfast. Bette and Dot certainly were an interesting pair. Dot seemed indifferent to your appearance, Bette was nice and overly curious about your cards. Ma Petite was the sweetest person you ever met and Eve was an Amazonian vision. You met the others as well, but they were the ones who took you under their wings and showed you the ropes. 

Well, them, and Jimmy. 

Jimmy Darling. 

From the moment he walked into the food tent you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Those deep brown eyes, curly hair, strong arms...he drove you to distraction. At least, that’s what you assumed it was when you didn’t see a card for him. You saw one for everyone else. In fact, the others insisted you read for them so they could see what you could do. 

You humored them, mostly because you wanted to impress your new friends but also because you wanted the practice. 

“What do you see?” Bette asked as drew three cards and laid them out before her and Dot. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, Bette,” Dot said with her signature firm voice. “Tarot reading ain’t a skill. These people are just very perspective and use the cards as a way to swindle you.”

“You’re wrong and right,” you told her, still staring at your cards. “It’s a skill but most people do use it for personal gain. I however have nothing to gain other than getting these damn pictures out of my head.”

“What sort of pictures?” Bette asked. 

“The cards. I can look at a person and know exactly what card I’m going to pull.”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

You tap the first card. “The Sun Reversed. Means overly optimistic and feeling down. You need to let your inner child come out and play. Have some fun in your life, honey.”

Bette smiled while Dot rolled her eyes. “I try,” she said. “But she won’t let me have any fun.”

“If I let you have the fun you want, we’d get pregnant,” Dot said. 

You chuckled as you kept looking. “Next card is The Lovers Reversed. You don’t love yourself or respect yourself.”

At that, Bette's face fell and she pursed her lips together. 

“You’re facing a tough choice with significant consequences,” you continued, now looking directly at her and not the cards. "Stop punishing yourself. Whatever you did, those consequences are behind you now, and dwelling on it isn’t going to change what happened.”

You tap the last card, still maintaining eye contact as you watch the card of Death appear behind Bette's head like the backdrop on a stage. “Something will be coming to an end. There’s a transition on the horizon and if you don’t deal with what’s in here,” you tap her chest where her heart is. “Then you’ll be blind to the opportunities in front of you.”

“Horseshit,” Dot muttered. “All of that was general. Nothing specific that would apply to either of us.”

“Those cards weren’t for you,” you told her, tearing your eyes away from Bette who was chewing on her nail in thought. “Those were for Bette. I don’t draw cards for people who don’t want them.”

“Well fine then, draw one for me,” Dot said, her voice tinged with challenge. “What card do you see for me?”

“Five of Swords.” You draw the next card in the deck, laying the Five of Swords right in front of her. “The recent battle you fought cost you more than you realize. It cost you trust, respect, and dignity. Moving forward is going to be more difficult than you thought. You should probably decide whether your point of view is so important to you that you’re willing to put your closest and ONLY relationship in jeopardy.”

Dot is unimpressed while Bette covers her smile with her hand. “Obviously you stacked the deck,” Dot accused. “I bet if another card were chosen you’d say something completely different.”

“Well, obviously. But another card won’t be chosen.” You shrugged and gathered all the cards, tucking them back into the deck which you then handed to her. “Shuffle yourself.”

With Bette's help, Dot shuffled the deck, twisting cards multiple times and being a lot rougher with the ancient set than you were comfortable with. You winced at the way she treated them, making a mental note to buy a set that your clients could handle instead of using your personal one. 

Dot slammed the deck down on the table and waited. You smirked and gestured for her to draw a card. 

The Five of Swords gleamed in the light of the tent. Dot's face hardened and she abruptly stood. “We have practice to get to. We don’t have time to sit around listening to a charlatan,” she declared. 

Unfazed, you scooped up the deck and gently shuffled. “Whatever you say, grumpy.”

She stalked off, barely giving Bette a chance to wave goodbye. 

Jimmy took her place at the seat across from you. he looked incredibly amused. “Day one and you’re already making friends,” he teased. “That was some reading. I saw the others you did too. Seems like you know your stuff.”

You smiled at him but your smile faded when you suddenly realized, you couldn’t see any card. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. All you saw was him. 

Jimmy placed his hands on the table expectantly. “Alright, tarot reader. Tell me my future.”

“Sorry, I can’t.” You had never met someone who didn’t have a card and you suddenly worried that something was wrong with you. 

“Ah, hey, that’s not fair,” he said. “I deserve a reading just like everyone else. Come on, doll face. What do you see?”

You considered the situation as you shuffled the card, with such ease and skill it was like the cards were floating between your hands and fingers. “It’s not your time for a reading,” you declared. “Sorry, Jimmy. Maybe some other time.”

As you stood up, Jimmy leaned back in his seat with a smirk. “Playing hard to get, sugar? That’s alright. I’m a patient man. I can wait.”

The circus became the place where you finally belonged. Everyone became family and over the years, your talent and act grew. Soon, your grandmother’s cards were only one of the twelve sets you used. You did most of your work while people were waiting for the show to start. Your trailer was set just next to the main tent so those in line or waiting could come in for a reading. You made decent money too, which of course went right back into the circus to help everyone. 

Your powers grew as your act did. Soon you could see and learn things about someone that you couldn’t possibly know otherwise. The cards helped get things started but once you were deep in a reading, everything else came right from your own mind. 

Every time someone tried to find a way to indicate you were cheating them, you made changes. At first, they said it was because you stacked the deck, so you started having them pick which one they wanted you to use. Then they said you cheated because you could see which one they picked right away and somehow used that the cheat, so you wrapped every deck in the same identical black silk cloth. 

The table was left bare. No books or anything else during readings. You didn’t need the books anymore anyway since you knew each deck by heart. The person would sit and you saw the images just as clearly as you saw them. 

Except for Jimmy. He was the one and only person who never had a card. It annoyed you but eventually, you came to cherish it. Because when you two were together, all you saw was him. You never got distracted by the pictures. Over time, you and Jimmy became close friends. 

Often after a show, the two of you would sit outside and look at the stars, talking for hours. Your feelings for him grew, but you kept them to yourself. He was the first friend you ever had and you didn’t want to mess up the friendship by telling him how you felt. 

Of course, the universe had other plans. As it often did. 

It was nearly five years later and you were in your trailer, cleaning up for the evening when there was a sharp knock on the door. Not expecting anyone, you frowned and peeked out the curtained window before opening the door.

Jimmy stood on the steps, hands on his hips and jaw clenched. You immediately knew something was wrong and stepped aside to let him in. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, heading to the small kitchenette to pour him some tea you had just made yourself. 

“Oh, you know, the usual. Being called freaks and getting shit thrown at us,” Jimmy grumbled as he paced. “I get so fucking tired of it. We deserve to be treated with respect just like everyone else. And no matter how hard we try they never fucking see that.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I know how much this weighs on you. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Why do you stay with us?” 

His question made you look over at him with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you could go anywhere you want. Do your act for yourself. Why do you stay here?”

For you.

“This is my home and my family, where else would I go?”

He collapsed into your kitchen chair. “You deserve more, you know. Someone—” He caught himself and paused. “Something else. Something better.”

You turned around to tell him that you had no intention of going anywhere when your vision was assaulted by bright lights and the image of the King of Wands. It was so sudden and unexpected that you gasped, letting the teacup slip from your fingers and shatter on the floor. The moment you staggered backward, Jimmy was out of his seat with his arms around your waist to catch you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, doll face. Don’t wanna bump that pretty head of yours,” he said. “You alright?”

Grabbing his biceps to steady yourself, you shut your eyes and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just give me a minute.”

This was the first time in your entire friendship that the two of you touched. Sure there was an occasional handhold or pat on the knee, but he had never put his arms around you and, in truth, it was the best feeling in the world. Unable to stop yourself, you stepped into the embrace, burying your face in his neck. Jimmy held you tight, his nose in your hair. You were so close you could hear his heart racing and when his hand made a slow trail down your spine, you shuddered. 

“Take all the time you need, darlin’. I ain’t complaining.”

You smiled and pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. “It’s time for your reading.”

He quirked his eyebrow in amusement. “That what the kids are calling it nowadays?”

Laughing, you reluctantly stepped out of his arms and patted him on the chest. “I’m serious. I can finally see your card.”

“Hot damn. Must be my lucky day.”

You stepped over the broken cup, too focused on other things to care. As you took your seat, you waved to the shelf with your cards. “Take your pick.”

No longer angry, Jimmy looked incredibly amused at the change of events. “You’ve got a strange definition of foreplay, but I’ll play along.”

You rolled your eyes in amusement as he walked up to the shelf, hands shoved in his pockets. He was as handsome as he ever was. His looks only improved with time and the white sleeveless shirt and finely tailored pants helped a great deal. Often you had to stop yourself from just staring at him. Unless he was on stage. Then, you tucked yourself in the back and watched him with shameless love and affection in your soul. 

It took him a while to pick a deck, but when he did, he gingerly plucked it off the shelf and sat down with it. 

“Unwrap the cards and shuffle,” you told him. 

“I love it when you get all bossy.”

“For Christ’s sake, Jimmy, just shuffle the damn cards.”

He chuckled, placing the cards on the table and carefully undoing the ribbon that bound them. When the cloth fell away, you found yourself staring at your grandmother’s cards. They almost never were picked nowadays. Truthfully, you were the only one to use them in the last two or so years. 

“So what card do you see for me, doll face?” Jimmy asked, shuffling the deck. His hands fumbled a few times but eventually, he got the hang of it. 

“The King of Wands.”

Jimmy smirked. “I know I’m good in bed but damn, I didn’t know I was a king.”

“Not that wand, Jimmy. Well...maybe that wand but I don’t know yet. Just shuffle and draw a card.”

“Why now?” He kept his eyes on you as he shuffled. “We’ve known each other five years and you never gave me a reading. The one time I asked, you said it wasn’t time.”

“You know it’s because I didn’t see a card for you.”

“Yeah, but why do you see one now?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Jimmy placed the deck down and drew a card. 

The High Priestess. No. No, that’s not right. You’ve never been wrong in your entire life. A chill ran down your spine and you frowned as you looked at the card. Jimmy’s card wasn’t the High Priestess. 

“Looks like you were wrong, sugar,” Jimmy said. “That’s weird. I’ve never known you to be wrong.”

“That’s because I’m not. Draw another card.”

“Darlin’, it’s okay—”

“Humor me, Jimmy. Just draw again.”

Jimmy shrugged and drew another card, placing it next to the first. The Lovers. “Still not the King of Wands,” he said. “Look, it’s been a long day. I’m sure after doing all those readings you’re bound to be a little off.”

“Draw one more.” Jimmy said your name softly but you just shook your head. “Draw again, Jimmy.”

Jimmy sighed and drew another card and your heart lept. The King of Wands.

“There you are you sneaky bastard,” you said. “Now what the hell…” You cut yourself off when you realized what the cards meant. Images and sounds came rushing to you all at once and suddenly, you started laughing. Full on, deep belly, laughing. 

Jimmy looked bewildered. “Have you lost your damn mind? What’s so funny?”

“You just gave me a reading.”

“Come again?”

You point to him. “You, Jimmy Darling, just read MY tarot cards.”

“But I ain’t no card reader.” 

“Tonight you are apparently. See, this card is yours.” You point to the King of Wands before tapping the High Priestess. “And this one is mine.”

Jimmy looked down at the three cards. The High Priestess, The Lovers, and the King of Wands. His face broke out in a wide smile. “Well, shit,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Looks like we have a long night ahead of us.”

The both of you were out of your seats in the blink of an eye. When your lips finally met for the first time, it was like your world exploded. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire and that only amplified times a thousand when Jimmy got his hands on you. He pulled at your shirt, tugging it out of your skirt so he could reach underneath. You gasped into his mouth the moment his skin made contact with yours and he groaned in response, palming your braless breasts with a rough squeeze. 

“Fuck,” you swore. “Jimmy, I want you so fucking bad.”

“Oh, you’ll have me, doll face. All of me.”

He backed you against the wall of the trailer, mouth devouring yours like he was the hungriest man alive and you were the best meal he ever had. Teeth clashed together in your excitement and you were sure your lips were going to be swollen by the end of the night. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he went on, yanking your skirt up to bunch around your waist. His hands grabbed your thighs, giving them an excited squeeze as he yanked you against his chest. “You drive me damn crazy, woman. Always have. Seeing you walking around with this body and this mouth. The things I’ve wanted to do to you. Lost count of how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you.”

You whimpered at his words, wet with arousal and lust. “Show me.”

Jimmy pulled back to give you that damn irresistible smirk of his. “Kinky. I like that.”

You tugged on his belt, undoing it and pulling it from the loops. “You have no idea, baby.”

Jimmy growled deep in his throat, giving you another kiss before taking over the task of ridding himself of his pants. God, he was magnificent. Long and thick and begging for your touch or mouth. Or both. Jimmy placed a hand on the wall by your head, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he started stroking himself. You wanted to look since that was the whole point, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from those dark brown ones. 

You’d never seen eyes like his. They pierced into your very soul and saw you for who you truly were. 

“Come on, darlin’,” he panted. “You said you wanted me to show you. The least you could do is look.”

So you looked. 

Fuck it was hot. Seeing his hand wrapped around his cock, jerking himself off for you, was more than you could handle. You dropped to your knees, pushing his hands away and taking the tip of him into your mouth. 

Jimmy’s hand fell to your head and he swore out your name followed by a loud, drawn-out, “Fuuuuck!”

It took you a moment to get a good rhythm going. Truth be told, you were severely out of practice. Ever since you saw Jimmy, you hadn’t wanted anyone else. You flirted every now and then with a client, but it never went further because you knew none of them would match up to him. 

You sucked Jimmy off eagerly, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the heady taste of him. He moaned and grunted, urging you on with words of encouragement. You always loved his voice and could listen to him sing for hours. But this was a different kind of song. This was one you knew you couldn’t live without. His hips thrust along with your mouth, burying himself as far into your throat as he could go. 

“Shit, doll face. Why the fuck haven’t we been doing this this whole time?” he groaned, tugging on your hair. “You better stop before this is over embarrassingly soon.”

Pulling off him with a pop, you dragged your tongue along the length of him before smirking. “Thought you would have more stamina than that, Jimmy-boy.”

He yanked you up onto your feet and shoved you back against the wall. “Oh trust me, darlin’. I have plenty.”

His mouth covered yours again as his hand disappeared under your skirt. Jimmy’s hands had drawn your attention but not for the reasons he would have thought. Even when he was self-conscious about them, you admired them. You had heard plenty of stories about his sexual exploits and wished that one day you would experience what he could do. 

He rubbed you through your panties, drawing a gasp out of you as he filled your mouth with his tongue before biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. Jimmy wanted eye contact when he slid his hand under that soft fabric, his finger gently making contact with your clit before he pressed down hard. You shouted in surprise, lust coursing through your veins instantly. 

“You’re already wet, baby,” Jimmy cooed, placing the gentlest of kisses on your neck as he continued to draw hard circles around your clit. “Sure know how to stoke a man’s ego.”

“It’s all you, Jimmy,” you panted, already breathless and eager. “It’s only ever been you.”

He paused, gaze softening. “Ever?”

“Well, not ever ever but definitely since the day we met.”

A second later, his finger slid inside you and with a gasp you grabbed his shoulders, arching your back in a futile attempt to draw yourself closer to him. He smashed his mouth against yours, kissing away what little breath you had and making your knees buckle. Dear lord, he was magnificent. His thick finger stretched you better than you ever thought possible, certainly better than your own had. And if you were this worked up from his hand alone, you couldn’t wait for his cock. 

Jimmy rested his forehead against yours, watching your face as he pleasured you. Your eyes stayed closed but you could still feel the stare, sense his smile as your breaths mingled together. When he leaned against you, you could feel the hardness of his cock. Teasingly, you raised your leg to press your thigh against it and he groaned as precum leaked onto your skin. 

“Fuck me, Jimmy,” you begged shamelessly. 

“Oh, I will, doll face. Once you cum first.”

It didn’t take long for him to make that happen. Just a few more deep strokes and you convulsed against him, still trapped between his body and the wall. Stars exploded behind your eyelids and as you threw your head back, Jimmy latched onto your neck, sucking greedily. He was still at it when you came back down from your high. 

“You’re gonna leave a mark,” you slurred, reaching down to grab his wrist so he’d give you a second to recover. His finger slipped out but he kept his hand on your thigh, his thumb stroking the soft flesh. 

“That’s the plan.”

Laughing softly, you dragged your eyes open when he pulled away, only to be met with the beautiful sight of a disheveled and red-cheeked Jimmy Darling. 

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” you said. 

“I take it you don’t own a mirror. Because you’re far more beautiful than I am.”

“Actually, I do. In the bedroom.” You smirked and nodded over your shoulder to the beaded curtain that separated your sleeping space from the rest of the trailer. “Wanna take a look?”

“Been waiting for you to ask that for years.”

Giggling like school children, you grabbed Jimmy’s hand and pulled him into the room. He stepped out of his shoes and pants along the way, leaving them behind. Your room could barely be called that. It didn’t have space for anything other than your bed and a few decorations on the wall. One of which was a large ornate mirror you had found at an antique shop some time ago. Its bronzed frame shone in the moonlight that filtered in through the tiny window.

Jimmy admired it briefly, staring at your reflection as you climbed onto the bed. “Clothes off, doll face,” he said, yanking his shirt off. “Let me finally see all of you.”

You stripped slowly and deliberately, taking off each layer with careful movements if for no other reason than to give Jimmy the show he deserved. When you were finally, naked, he let out a strangled moan, reaching down to touch himself again. “Fucking hell, you’re just a pretty as I always thought you were.”

“I’m even prettier up close.” You spread your legs for him as you settled against the mound of pillows behind you. 

Grinning, Jimmy climbed onto the bed, crawling towards you with catlike grace. As you leaned up for a kiss, he granted your desire, cupping your cheek to hold you there for a moment. A second later, his hand grasped your neck and he shoved you onto your back before burying his face between your legs. 

His roughness thrilled you right down to your core, which he drank from excitedly. Those lips. That mouth. You knew he had a quick tongue but fuck you never knew how quick it was. He had you soaked from his spit in no time, his tongue switching between flicking at your clit and licking slow stripes along your seam. The teasing didn’t last long. He was too worked up and ready for more. His finger slid into you again as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. 

“Jesus, Jimmy!” you exclaimed, clamping your thighs around his head and burying your hands in that wonderfully curly hair. “Baby, you have no idea what you do to me.”

He drew back just enough to smirk up at you. “I’ve got some idea.” 

His fingers and hand were drenched in your arousal and you weren’t even the least bit ashamed about it. After all these years, to finally be able to touch him and have him touch you was too much to handle. You were never one to play coy and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now. 

“Fuck me already!”

“So damn impatient,” Jimmy teased, still fingering you as he kissed your inner thigh. “You really want it that bad, don’t you?”

You yanked his hair so his eyes met yours. “You do too. I know it.”

Eyes dancing with lust, Jimmy’s hand slipped out from between your legs. He crawled up the rest of your body and pulled you into a harsh kiss. You could taste yourself on him and a sense of possessiveness washed over you. It disappeared and was replaced by instant pleasure a second later when he pushed his cock into you. 

You both groaned so loud, you knew the others could hear you outside. 

Jimmy took you so hard, you could feel the trailer rocking along with his trusts. Not that you minded. Nope. Quite the opposite. You wanted more. You wanted all of him, everything he could give. Five years was too damn long to hold back. You never felt so stretched and full before. The world around you melted away and all you were left with was Jimmy finally claiming your body for himself. 

“Perfect. Such a good girl,” he praised into your ear, his hips jerking against yours with a hard steady rhythm. “Always knew you’d take it well. All mine now, darlin’. No one else gets this sweet pussy but me, we understand?”

“Only you, Jimmy,” you cooed, more than happy to give yourself to him completely. On one condition. You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you. “And you’re mine.”

He grinned. “If you say so.”

You pushed against him until he sat back on his heels and you were able to climb onto his lap. He slid back into you with ease as you rode him, his hands gripping your ass so tight you knew he’d leave marks. Jimmy turned his head and it was your turn to attack his neck with kisses and love bites. You saw how women looked at him, you weren’t stupid. When they saw the way you marked him, they wouldn’t look anymore. Not if they knew what was good for them. 

“We look good, doll face,” he panted, watching your reflections in the mirror. “Like we were made for each other.”

You pressed your cheek against his and also watched, your bodies grinding and writhing, begging for sweet release. “We were.”

You came not too long after, too tired and worked up to hold back. Jimmy fucked you through it, biting his lip as his own orgasm overtook him. With a groan, he threw his head back and came inside you, filling you up with his release until he was spent and both slumped against each other panting. 

Sloppy kisses were exchanged as Jimmy laid the both of you down. You remained in your sweaty, tangled embrace, neither one of you wanting to pull away now that you could finally touch each other. Even when you caught your breath, you stayed there, you stroking Jimmy’s chest and him running his fingers through your hair. 

“You never told me what my card meant,” he said after some time had passed. His voice was soft from fatigue and he sounded more relaxed than he had been in days. 

“The King of Wands represents pure, fiery energy. He’s a natural-born leader, a visionary. But doesn’t go forward alone. He’s all about caring for those around him and enlisting their help to realize his vision. He’s someone who’s here to leave a legacy.”

“Hmm,” Jimmy hummed in amusement. “I like the sound of that.”

“You create your own destiny. You create the outcome you want. Now, the only question is, what is it you want?”

Jimmy smiled down at you, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Already got what I want right here, sugar.”

With a smile, you kissed him. The both of you remained that way for some time, each kiss getting softer and gentler, until you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

[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.