#i need the jury's opinion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rovingotter · 1 month ago

Text

Heavy spoilers for Joker: Folie à Deux beneath the cut.

Joker 2019 is a movie that is often misunderstood, and one that means a lot to me. It doesn’t quite manage to nudge out some of my childhood animated favorites like The Last Unicorn and Watership Down, but Joker is definitely in my top three favorite live action movies. It got me back into writing fanfic after a long dry spell.

I didn’t think it needed a sequel. Most people didn’t. The first movie told the story it needed to tell. I was wary going into this. After hearing that it was a musical (and with Gaga as Harley?), I didn’t know what to expect but I thought that even if it was bad, even if it completely misfired, it would at least be an entertaining and funny trainwreck.

Turns out, it’s not funny at all. This movie gutted me.

I wish it didn’t exist. The experience of watching it was…I’m still processing it, but I think I can say at this point that it was an unpleasant experience, but also a captivating one. I hate it but I also weirdly have a higher opinion of it than most people seem to. I feel like it was tonally true to the first movie. I think Phoenix and Gaga both breathed life into their roles. The musical numbers didn’t seem strictly necessary but they also didn’t detract from the experience for me. Music was an important element of the first movie as well.

I also think the central premise is an interesting one. Arthur, incarcerated in Arkham, is facing the possibility that he’ll be sentenced to death for the murders he committed in the first movie. His lawyer is aiming for an insanity defense and tries to convince the jury that the Joker is a separate personality—that Joker, not Arthur, killed those people. In order to save his own life, Arthur needs to convince the jury that he’s not Joker…or he can take a different path. He can say "fuck it," fully embrace the Joker persona and live whatever time is left laughing and watching everything burn. This is what Harley "Lee" Quinzel, who admires Joker and the chaos he represents, wants him to do.

In the end, he does neither.

After being forced to sit in silence for days and listen to a defense that both infantilizes and dehumanizes him, reducing him to a set of symptoms, stripping him bare and putting all his pain and humiliation on display, Arthur can’t take it anymore. He fires his lawyer (who represents his best hope of survival) and elects to represent himself. Initially he tries to represent himself as Joker, to lean into that persona, but he’s not feeling it anymore…especially after the confrontation with Gary Puddles, the guy who was probably his only true friend before he became Joker. In the first movie, Arthur spared Gary’s life but left him deeply traumatized after he witnessed the death of Randall, the coworker who bullied Arthur. This conversation with Gary was one of the most riveting parts of the movie for me. There is a nakedness and rawness to it. Arthur tries to say "fuck it," but ultimately, he can't. Not in the face of Gary's pleading and pain.

After this, some horrible things happen to Arthur in Arkham. The guards beat him and brutally assault him. They kill his fellow inmate who tries to offer him support, because the system is still ruthless and still failing vulnerable people. Arthur is left broken, helpless. Again. Some people have interpreted this scene as the reason he ultimately sheds his Joker persona, but I think it would have shaken out differently if not for that earlier conversation with Gary. Because Gary is possibly the only person who truly cared about Arthur, when he was only Arthur—a fellow outcast, and the only guy who never made fun of him.

Joker makes fun of Gary, because Joker makes fun of everything. And Arthur realizes that he’s not—doesn’t want to be Joker. At his core, he's sick of pain and violence, both his own and other people's. He wants to try to break the cycle.

In the end, Arthur stands before everyone not as Joker but as Arthur Fleck—he stands alone and naked, shattered, traumatized, with no remaining allies, and he takes responsibility. He says that he did those things. He did them because he was having a mental breakdown, yes, because he was wounded and wronged by an unjust world, but he regrets it, now. He hurt some bad people, but he also hurt some people who didn’t deserve it. He’s tired of being the clown. He just wants to live. That was all he ever wanted, really. Just a little bit of kindness and respect.

This is his truth: Joker is a part of him, but a part that was born out of pain. His deepest self is Arthur. In admitting that, he lays it all on the line, in that moment. And this is, in my opinion, the bravest thing he could have done. I had my hand over my heart for this whole scene.

And for this small, fragile act of courage, he is utterly forsaken by the world. Lee—the one person who he has a connection with—is in love with Joker, not Arthur. She walks out of the courtroom. She abandons him in his moment of greatest need—not out of malice, but out of weakness. Because she wants to live in a fantasy world and she can't handle the reality of who he is: not an embodiment of chaos and power, not a symbol, but a man, a vulnerable man who is full of regrets but who is trying, in his own confused way, to be better.

The first movie was bleak but it offered a glimpse of a twisted kind of hope at the end with Arthur finding inner peace even as he’s condemned to a life in psychiatric incarceration for his actions. This movie takes that bit of hope and grinds it into the dust. It’s a tragedy, through and through.

Arthur’s random, pointless death at the end feels almost redundant because it’s made clear by that point that his spirit has already been slain. His connection with Lee was all he had, and when it’s revealed to be an illusion, that’s it. He can no longer exist as the Joker but he can’t exist as Arthur, either. He tried his best and was rejected for it. It didn’t work. He’s done.

There are a lot of takes about how this movie should have gone, and honestly, most of them sound terrible to me. I think this is the only way a sequel could have gone while remaining honest, which is why I didn’t want a sequel.

You can’t hear me, Arthur, but I love you, and I’m proud of you for standing before the world as yourself, and you didn’t deserve to die the way you did.

This world is fucking cruel.

#joker folie a deux #joker 2 #arthur fleck

633 notes · View notes

feytouched · 2 years ago

Text

last esc post i prommy but here is how i would fix eurovision

a) jury vote value down to 25%, televote 75%

b) winners of past years can only feature as guests, not contestants. you had your shot, now move on

c) national juries need to have a fixed number of people from music related backgrounds reflecting diverse tastes and opinions, and jury lists should be public for transparency. keeping their names secret to avoid bribery has not prevented bribery from happening nonetheless

d) make votes cost the same for everyone. when some countries pay 0.20€ per vote and others well above 1€ that's gonna skew results

e) and lastly, get rid of israel

#esc 2023 #eurovision #put me in charge goddammit i can do better than martin österdahl #no opinion as of yet on the worldwide vote #this year's televote was almost as rancid as the jury vote ngl but i would like to see stats on where people were acc voting from #idk how representative the worldwide vote actually was

2K notes · View notes

bakugoushotwife · 1 year ago

Text

kinktober day ten: breeding kink

>>> so i actually think he would be able to get his partner preggers but that's because i say so xoxo but also bc maybe ce doesn't affect the reproductive system?? idc if it does he deserves a family!

>>> starring: choso kamo x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: breeding kink thank you, pregnancy kink, choso is obsessed w his wife hours, oral (fem), creampie, >>> wc: 2.2k >>> event masterlist:

he’ll never forget the day you told him you were pregnant. it was something he had considered impossible, to the point he never bothered wearing a condom or cumming anywhere but inside you. seeing you pregnant only made sure those things wouldn’t change. you were already so perfect to him that it was almost unnerving, even all these years of marriage in. he fell in love with you the moment he met you back in shibuya, but somehow you had become even more beautiful to him.

he was obsessed, almost to the point of embarrassment, if choso understood the concept in regards to his love for his wife. but he wasn’t shy about being yours. it was all so new to him, the idea of fatherhood, viewing you as a mother, watching you change before his very eyes and all the long doctors appointments. he loves it though, oddly enough. especially the notion of being a dad and watching your body and mindset shift and grow.

choso can tend to be clueless due to his rather unconventional navigation of life, but ever since he learned how to work a cell phone, the internet has been his very best friend. unfortunately, yuji can give some very…troublesome advice. choso thinks it’s a miracle he’s still alive at times. so google can help in ways his earnest younger brother cannot, giving him multiple opinions and sources on what to do and how to do it. he spends hours of his time researching how to care for you; wanting to know if it was normal to be this attracted to you while you were all moody and pouty with just the start of roundness at the bottom of your belly—the jury was still out on that one, by the way.

one thing that was normal was your increased need for him, not like he was complaining. he loved this side effect the most, able to satiate his perverse desire to keep stuffing his already pregnant wife full, relishing in how eager and frankly nasty you had gotten. you were damn near insatiable, and choso thought he was in heaven for it. all through your first and second trimesters, you couldn’t get enough of him—and the feeling was mutual. as you grew larger and the house became cluttered with baby shower gifts and preparations for baby kamo, he continued to clock hours towards his family. he read article after article on parenting, actively assembling the nursery and searching up names with you. he was beyond joyful, still unable to believe that you were growing his son or daughter within that gorgeous body of yours, your breasts had started to swell and your hips had begun to spread. he loved every second of this: your neediness, everything about how you look while making him a father, and the way his friends circled around him and became such a supportive family.

his thoughts bordered on crazy, a haunting desire to keep you like this all the time, lounging around the house in your pretty maternity dresses doing nothing but being waited on hand and foot; relaxing while stroking your swelling stomach. it’s what suited you best, he thinks—stretched out along the couch basking in the rays of the sun beating in through the living room window, snacking on a fruit board he made you and baby. he’s nearly foaming at the mouth, your long robe-style dress clinging to all the delicious curves of your body; the light cotton seemed to outline your heavy boobs, tight around your semi-hardened nipples. it hugged your six-and-a-half-month sized bump, your other hand resting there protectively. choso was stuck in the moment, trying to commit every detail of you to memory. he almost didn’t hear your chortle of disbelief.

“you said what, now, babe?” you whip your head towards him, heart fluttering violently at what he uttered— you needed him to say it again. it was easy to grow addicted to your husband, building his spawn had you needier than ever. even the smell of him had you going absolutely feral level insane even though this pregnancy had been the highlight of your life so far. you thought your clinginess and desire was driving him to his own insanity, figuring he must hate tending to you and your attitude as of late. you must have just heard him incorrectly.

“huh?” he blinked, violet eyes refocusing on your plush lips speaking to him. “what did i say?” he asks, just as confused as you are. his cheeks darken anyways, as if you caught him doing something naughty, which only makes you believe your ears were in fact not deceiving you.

“you said you should keep me like this all time.” you chuckle, full on tilting your head towards him from your spot on the sofa. he averts his gaze as soon as you meet him, and you let out a teasing fake gasp. “my husband wants to keep me barefoot and pregnant, huh? you know that’s pretty outdated…”

he shakes his head, embarrassed immediately. great, now you thought he was some sick perv, which isn’t completely off base, he guessed, but still! it wasn’t like that, he didn’t view you like some machine built only to churn out his kids and cook him dinner!

“n-no! i mean—you look great like this, b—”

“i’m just fucking around, love. i thought it was sexy.” you grin, throwing a wink his way. he clicks his tongue at you and huffs at the teasing, even though he’s definitely intrigued by the latter half of your sentence. you arch your brow, waiting for him to ask for clarification. you could see him fighting it in his head before your very eyes. the scrunch of his nose tells you that you’ve won.

“yeah? what’s that supposed to mean?” he says from his spot in the recliner nearby, always opting to be close to you. you smile knowingly at him, humming in thought mostly for the dramatics.

“mayhaps i enjoy the idea of you keeping me pregnant…especially if i get spoiled like this every time.” you giggle, shrugging a little bit. “maybe i’ll feel differently after i actually have this one.” you pat your tummy affectionately, and he thinks he may be drooling. you always play so coy, but he can see the way you rub your thighs together and the clouds that darken in your sunshiney eyes. he may be regularly clueless, but the one thing he knows all too well is your body.

“hm, i think it’s because you’re a sex-crazed maniac now and know pregnancy gets you off the hook.” he deadpans, though his heart is beating rapidly in his chest and in his cock. you call his bluff, rolling your eyes viciously.

“isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.” you huff, spreading your legs out on the couch in a silent command. he smirks, not at all caring that you caught him. he nods a bit, holding his hands up.

“got me. i just didn’t know how much i would love this.” he says, the husk in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. your thighs press together when he obeys your body language, rising from his seat and making his way to the couch. he sits at your feet of course, smiling so sweetly. his warm hands gently pry your knees apart, and you wonder if he knows just how seductive the look he gives you is. his chin is angled down, hooded purple eyes singing a siren song that makes your legs fall apart again and your fingers pull at the tie keeping your dress together. he growls at the sight of your exposed body, his hands rubbing trails from your knees to your hips and down your thighs again. “you’re so perfect…can you blame me?”

you roll your eyes but wear a stupid grin at his praise, shaking your head to his question. you knew better than to be insecure over your changing body, especially with all the extra attention it’s garnered you. truth be told, you had never felt more beautiful, the life growing inside you breathing new life into your own appearance, and your husband never missed an opportunity to make you feel like a goddess amongst mortals. he would never dream of making you uncomfortable or asking you to accommodate him, so he folds himself into the space he has so that his face hovers above your shiny middle. his breath alone makes you moan, a hand flying up to cover your embarrassment. you always react like you’ve never been touched before and choso loves it almost as much as the sight of your round stomach and even rounder mounds above. he brings his thumb over you, wanting to watch you as he draws slow circles over your hardened clit. he hums, a little smile on his face as you jerk and squirm. your hips buck into his mouth instantly with cute whines slipping past your lips as your hands struggle to reach for his collarbone length black hair. he leans up a bit to help you, just the feeling of his rough thumb pad against your need turned you into a mess within seconds.

“nngh–oh choso, feels so–mmph good already.” you gasp, hands dropping to fondle your aching breasts. he nods and sits up to spit a warm and fat glob on your cunt, his thick thumb dragging it all over your spasming need. the lewdness of his action coupled with the nonchalant way he watches, tongue poking around your hole like nothing ever happened, has your brain spinning without much effort. your hips drive into the relief he offers, chasing your orgasm like you’d never before experienced one—despite the clear proof otherwise. he allows it, never in his life would he keep you from feeling good. he’s honored to be the one who causes those pretty sounds to fill the room, to be the father of the child making your beauty so ethereal, to be the man tongue deep in your perfect pussy. “gonna–ohhhh–”

your sweet release coats his tongue, his thumb still working you down slowly so he could relish in the face you make from sheer pleasure. he sits back up, a little more comfortable on his knees as he leans over you to give you a sloppy kiss filled with your own essence. he’s had to be much more careful since you’re getting bigger, but he doesn’t mind making sweet love to his beautiful baby mama. you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping his mouth against you while his hands are busy freeing himself from his sweatpants. you gasp into his mouth when you feel his length parting your folds and prodding at your hole. he only nibbles at your lip to tell you that he’ll be gentle, sheathing himself within your wet warmth slowly. you tense around him and relax, sighing happily at the feeling of him rocking into you at a tender pace. he moves his kisses to the sides of your cheeks, your jaw, picking up his speed until he has to sit back up properly to angle himself right.

“more, you’re not gonna break me daddy.” you pant, hand braced on the ridges of his defined abs. he sighs begrudgingly, only because he’d been repressing the same urge ever since you welcomed him inside. he relents, lifting one of your legs to rest against his hip before driving into you a bit harder. you moan wildly and nod, nearly screaming. “god—just like that.”

“anything for you mama, s’cute you need it hard, such a good girl letting me get a little rough.” he grunts, squeezing the hold he has on your thigh. you feel so different, still so tight and warm but with a different kind of wetness. he’s a mess too, championing himself with that nickname you bestowed upon him. his strokes are so well-timed, letting you feel every drag of his cock against you, the tip of him nailing the spot you need him most. “so perfect. you gonna let me keep this pretty hole bred?”

you nod, the words sending you close to your tipping point. you shake your head, too gone to speak to let him know that you were going to cum. you don’t have to tell him though, he can tell from the intense fluttering of your sloppy cunt, and he’s happy to have lasted this long trapped in your clutches. you’re slapping at his stomach, legs shaking around him as you scream again, the sound so primal it sends goosebumps prickling along his skin right before he’s stuffing you full as if you weren’t already carrying his seed. you squeeze down on him, making sure he empties his balls in you. he stays there until he goes soft, and then he slumps against the side of the couch. your giggles make him perk up, his violet eyes cutting over to see you crawling towards him with a mischievous glint to your eyes. he knows he’s right when you swing your leg over his lap, angling him back inside you.

“don’t worry—just wanna sit on it.” you titter, wrapping your arms around his neck again, pressing your body as close as you could for a hug. he twitches from sensitivity as you lower yourself back over him, but a smile spreads across his face all the same.

“how many kids can i give you, mama?” he groans in your ear as his arms tighten around your waist securely.

#jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #jjk smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #choso jjk #kamo choso

916 notes · View notes

buckleydiazincorrect · 9 months ago

Text

Eddie: buck and i are disagreeing on something so i need opinions. Is it gay-

Hen&Chim: yes

Eddie: wh- i didn’t even finish my sentence!

Hen: are you asking us about something even mildly related to you and buck?

Eddie: yes?

Chim: then its gay

Eddie: but-

Hen: case closed, edmundo

Chim: jury has convicted you on all counts

Hen: verdict?

Chim: gay as FUCK

Bobby: does this constitute workplace bullying?

Hen: that depends, do you agree?

Bobby: …sorry eddie, the jury has spoken

#incorrect 911 quotes #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #bobby nash #hen wilson #chimney han #911 incorrect quotes

515 notes · View notes

needle-thread-thimble-spear · 6 months ago

Text

RGU and the Transfeminine, Part 1

Why Miki Kaoru is an Egg

Fig. 1: The Sunlit Garden

When I’d first watched through Revolutionary Girl Utena, Miki Kaoru was initially one of the characters I had the hardest time figuring out. Unlike the other poisoned sibling relationships in the show, Miki and Kozue’s didn’t really make much sense to me. I couldn’t decide how I felt about the character, whether he was “better” somehow than Touga, Saionji, or Akio, or if he was “just as bad”. And of course. What the hell is with that damn stopwatch dude??* Looking at fan writings afterward just deepened the confusion. Everyone seems to have a different opinion on what’s going on with Miki. It’s only after much re-watching, and introspection, that I think I’ve figured out why I’m so conflicted about the character. I’d like to share why- and hopefully along the way I can at least show that Miki is more interesting than many give him credit for. Click the readmore if you please!

(And, to be clear, what is written below is a reading, a blend of evidence from the text, from the subtext, and my own personal experience. I do not claim to be the first to interpret the character this way nor do I claim that this is the definitive read of the character. Nonetheless, I hope I can make my case to you!)

and, a big thank you to @empty-movement for collating all the high quality screengrabs and scans in this post!

Fig 2: Rookie Princes

While I’m not the first to notice, I think it’s frequently overlooked just how similar Utena and Miki are in the first arc. It’s definitely something that flies over the heads of many first-time viewers. But Miki and Utena, are extremely alike! Of course, they are both motivated by an unattainable image of the past, and Miki’s early episodes codify the “sunlit garden” into the RGU symbolic environment. But it’s more than just this. Utena and Miki both treat Anthy in basically the same way. Utena has an easy time convincing Miki that the dueling game is objectifying nonsense. That the principled thing is to leave the whole exercise behind and treat Anthy like a person. It isn’t very hard for Miki to convince Utena to duel him for her hand either. They both view themselves as her personal protector, and (while maybe at different times), both project their imagination of what she must be thinking onto her. Utena does a bit more than Miki to try and figure Anthy out, but it doesn’t take much for her to get swept up in her own image of prince. In both their minds, Anthy needs them to save her. And, when Anthy looks them in the eyes, and tells them. I’m not yours. It destroys them. Freezes them in their tracks, breaks their hearts. Screaming, its a lie, you can’t mean that! Of course they get along so well! They see themselves in one another, plain as day. Little rival princelings, seeking the affections of the same princess, but always with chivalry and good intention.

Fig 3: Heartbreak

But I think there is more to it than that! Miki and Utena (and later Nanami) are some of the youngest duelists (at least, without a black rose anyway). And, they have fairly similar relationships to the other members of the student council. Juri acts as an older friend, mentor, and source of advice for both of them. Its not unlikely that she sees her younger self in the two of them, and while she does very directly take this out on Utena, its her sword that Utena takes to her second duel with Touga. Indeed, Touga manipulates Miki and Utena in unsubtle and sexually aggressive ways, as compared to how he might treat Saionji or Juri. And for both, its their relationship to gender that he directly attacks. He attempts to break Utena’s spirit by turning her “back into a normal girl”, and for Miki he seems to challenge his masculinity. And while this may seem as though the two of them are being shoved in opposite directions, in both cases, Touga hits them in the same place. “You’re a prince then? I don’t think so. Unless you prove it”. Touga isn’t the only one to question Miki’s ability or status. Utena and Juri both tell Miki. You are much more suited to playing piano than dueling. The main difference here is that they tell him this with genuine compassion, but the implication is the same. You aren’t suited to this prince thing. Give it up.

I don’t think it’s just the audience who is conflicted slotting in Miki with the other “men”.

Fig 4: Strange Friends

Much ink has been spilled on Miki and Kozue’s relationship, but I do think there is one thing consistent across readings. There is a power struggle going on between them, and they’ve both got something to hold over the others head. Personally, I don’t believe there is any attraction between them. Rather, What’s Going On With Those Two is their mismatch in understanding their sexuality and the RGU concept of “Reality”, and the friction that creates in their image of themselves and one another. That reading may go as follows. Miki sees Kozue as acting dangerously and immorally. In his mind, she is his responsibility, to keep out of trouble at the very least. Perhaps he sees himself as needing to step in for their absent parents. So he sees himself as the mature and grounded one, a father figure needing to keep the both of them on the straight and narrow. Kozue on the other hand, sees Miki as being essentially blind to Reality (with a capital R). She believes he doesn’t have a good grasp of what sex is, or what adult relationships look like. She may believe that she understands what happened with their parents much better than Miki, and clearly sees that her brother is in danger with his creepy music teacher. So she sees herself as the mature and grounded one, needing to protect her brother both by warding off people who would take advantage of him and by getting him to grow up and see things as they Really are. Without their parents, they feel the need to take care of one another and control how the other approaches their sexuality. But in the end, it does seem that Kozue is the one who is better able to manipulate Miki’s behavior, helping Akio convince him to duel a second time. That Miki needs to grow up and accept what he wants. He sees a vision of Anthy, and he’s driving the akiomobile. And, with fearful realization, he discovers the identity of End of the World.

Fig 5: Fear

So then. Why should Miki be so hung up about his sexuality? It clearly makes him very uncomfortable. And why does he compare the sister he had in the past onto the one he has in the present? What’s so special about that sunlit garden, anyway? What is Miki Kaoru’s shining thing?

Let me spin a yarn, if you'll indulge me-

As far as Miki remembers it, when he was little things were perfect. His parents were still there, and he and his twin sister were thick as thieves. They would play piano together, and drink milkshakes. Things were simple and happy as far as he’s concerned, and while his childhood was not nearly as rosy as he remembers, it was certainly better than whatever he has to deal with now. Now his parents are gone for reasons he doesn’t quite understand, and his sister has drifted away from him and acts promiscuously. His body is starting to change, and it fills him with disgust. Worse still, he finds himself envying his sister for some reason. It all floods him with shame. He needs to fight those feeling with everything he has. Being very clever for his age, he finds himself the youngest member of the student council. He becomes involved with the dueling game as it is revealed to him, and goes along with it, not wanting to act out of place. He gets a crush on Anthy, and is unable to figure out what the hell he should do about it. Later, he meets Utena, and the two become fast friends. And how lucky, his new friend is roommates with his crush! She’s just so perfect. She’s kind, and quiet, and chaste, not at all like his sister. He feels a kinship with her. And in an act of cosmic fate- she plays for him his favorite childhood arrangement. It’s just as Touga says. He can’t let the world get to her, the way its getting to his sister. The way its getting to him. He needs to make sure that Anthy, and his memories, are safe. But alas- it seems she doesn’t feel the same way. She’d rather be with Utena. Hopefully, Utena can protect her where he cannot. Miki and Utena go back to being friends, and he nurses his hurt feelings privately. It wouldn't do to make a scene about it, and besides, it wasn’t appropriate for him to think of her like that anyway. Thinking about anyone like that. He can’t help but feel disgusted with himself for allowing it. Later, his relationship with his sister continues to deteriorate, and his father is remarrying. But he can stick by his principles, and stay out of it all, the dueling especially. Kozue, Touga, and Akio have other plans. He is confronted with Reality, and it terrifies him. He sees himself in the drivers seat, Anthy his. This is what he is now, no point in trying to hide from it. He challenges Utena again, taking an early advantage utilizing his new resolve and Utena’s confusion. But that resolves breaks quickly. What is Kozue doing with Anthy?

Pay attention, or you’ll lose.

Fig 6: Crash!!

Miki is disgusted with himself, his role, because he does not want it. He hates what’s happening to himself and his family. He admires Utena and Juri, for embodying his ideal self. He listens to Touga, puts up with his music teacher, even if they make him feel gross and uncomfortable, because he feels he has to and that he doesn’t have a choice. He idolizes Anthy, so much. He is attracted to her, but maybe there is something more. Maybe, Miki wishes he could be her. Miki, in my mind, is a closeted trans lesbian going through puberty as a boy. I think that part of this might be projection, perhaps. But I hope that I might have made my case using the text of the show. But even if you disagree, I hope that you might have a better appreciation for his character. I think he’s fairly consistently people’s least favorite council member as a character, but honestly he’s my favorite and I think there’s a lot more too him than a lot of people give him credit for.

Fig 7: Three Lesbians Hanging Out

… this all being said. I think it’s interesting that Miki thinks Anthy is the picture of femininity right? That this is what he wants.

In the end, all girls are like the rose bride.

Please wait patiently while I make the case, that while Miki is an egg. Anthy has long since hatched...

(And I do mean be patient! This subject, and the concept that Ohtori represents a transmisogynystic institution at its very core, is WAY more personal than this headcanon, and also is much more of a difficult thing to write for dozens of reasons. I'm still not 100% sure it would even be right of me to post my thoughts on that publicly. But if enough people are interested, maybe that would motivate me to write it!)

*What’s a good Miki essay without some sort of Stopwatch Theory tm? Well (and I freely admit much of this is probably projection, but it’s not just me projecting! It’s also my girlfriend!!), Miki seems to get very wrapped up in his own thoughts. He is very self conscious, takes the criticisms of others very seriously, and also seems to get ideas about How Things Are Going To Happen in his head. He desperately tries to make sense of his surroundings, and finds himself consistently failing to do that. So my guess is the stopwatch is a way for him to regulate and calibrate his thoughts and hypotheses and self image. He picked it up in his duty as council secretary, but its something he feels is significant outside of that. Aha moment? Click. Unexpected end to a council meeting? Click. Something go completely as expected? Click. It helps him process I think. That is my formal Stopwatch Hypothesis tm.

Supplement Fig 1: Stopwatch

#revolutionary girl utena #miki kaoru #utena tenjou #kozue kaoru #juri arisugawa #anthy himemiya #akio ohtori #analysis #spinning #hopefully this essay is readable...

363 notes · View notes

1d1195 · 6 months ago

Text

Ding - Round 5

Read Ding here | ~5.2k words

Warnings: a bit of a filler episode here: smut 18+ (oral m and f, fingering, just some good old regular sex and maybe something that's semi-public if you look at it the right way) (finally right?), fluff, angst, etc. typical stuff. Also, this MIGHT have one of those 1d1195 classic cliffhangers 🤷‍♀️ who's to say (still not the bad cliffhanger for this series, imo).

Summary: Harry and Cupcake are a real couple now. Well... physically. Jury is out if she's invested emotionally.

“Why’s he so mad? He won?” She asked.

Niall shrugged. “I’ve never seen him look mad like that after a win.”

In waiting for his big fight, Harry refused to let his skills get weaker. She didn’t voice her opinion at the time, but she was happy to hear Niall say he simply thought it was impossible. Louis and Harry decided against him (and her).

But Harry wanted to add to his record. There would be at least one more fight before the biggest one of his life. The current one was hard fought. Harry’s eyebrow was split open once more, sticky with Vaseline and his lower lip was swollen. She couldn’t wait to kiss it.

His body glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. He didn’t have more than a hand towel sized rag draped around his neck and he mopped his face with the end of the fabric. It went eleven rounds. She imagined his exhaustion was setting in, she had an order ready to place as soon as he was ready to leave for something to eat. His favorite late-night tacos. But before they could leave he needed to clean himself up and get away from the crowd that continued to congratulate him.

That was where she and Niall saw him. He looked so irritated. People who shook his hand, people who asked for his autograph, and even the small-time, local media were looking for an angle. But Harry paid no mind to the attention. He was looking everywhere but the person talking to him. She stood by Niall away from the crowd—they were along the back wall, near the exit.

Harry muttered something to Louis who could hardly keep up with Harry, nearly running through the crowd. Louis looked just as agitated with Harry’s attitude and started to scan as well. She held both of their phones, so she had no way to contact him. She thought about texting Louis but thought the sound would get lost in the crowd. Maybe calling him would help.

Right as she scrolled for his contact, she received a request on Instagram from a stranger that distracted her momentarily. In doing so, she missed how Louis pointed.

But Niall saw. Realization came over him and he chuckled. “Oh, Cupcake, he’s looking for you,” Niall smirked as the grumpy look on his face changed and Harry rushed over, ignoring the pats on the back and the press trying to get to him. The look on his face was determined—maybe more than when he was in the ring.

Before she fully understood what Niall said and processed what that meant, she was wrapped in Harry’s arms. Her feet were swept off the ground. His face was buried in her hair at the side of her neck. Her body was warm and compared to Harry’s sweaty torso. His gloves inhibited him from grabbing at her the way he really wanted to. “Hi, Cupcake,” he murmured into her hair. She could have cried how it felt to be held against him. It was so good to be held, to be wanted like this.

“Nice job, baby,” she answered. Harry thought he was too sweaty and maybe a little smelly, but if he did or was it was apparent she didn’t care. Harry was vaguely aware of people staring at him, but it wasn't something he cared about at the moment. He waddled slightly hanging onto her and guiding her back toward the locker room.

“Want you t’stay by the ring at the next one, Cupcake. So when I win, I can find you,” his voice is muffled by the people around him and the way his face won’t leave the crook of his neck. She couldn’t stop smiling even if someone made her.

This was nice. This was everything she wanted.

The guilt was crippling.

“You’re so perfect,” he cooed to her as he hovered above her. They were practicing again. Something they did frequently. Especially now that the classes had ended. Harry encouraged her to do so. Even though half the time it turned into the pair of them giggling like children wrestling. Her area rug was a nice cushion for them to lay on the floor without her back hurting.

She rolled her eyes at him as he ducked to peck her lips. “I didn’t get out of this hold.”

“T’be fair, I don’t want y’out of this hold,” he murmured and tucked his face into her neck, gently kissing her skin.

She snorted. It had been three weeks since their first date and they were still waiting for the right moment for her to try and take his pants off again. For the first week, it felt too raw or fresh. Harry was insistent they be slow. The second week they were simply busy. She had two huge birthday orders to fill and deliver. Harry had two new individuals who wanted his training��two young boys who regarded him so highly they insisted to their parents they sign up for personal instruction.

But now, they weren’t so busy. With Harry’s leg slotted between hers, his thigh causing the slightest pressure at the apex of hers... she was aching for him. “Harry,” she whispered.

“Yes, Cupcake?” She looked at him nervously. It clicked for him in an instant and he wondered what her nerves were about. “Do y’think m’gonna say no, sweetheart?” He asked brushing the back of his index finger along her cheek. She shrugged. He chuckled and shook his head. “Let’s start with you,” he suggested.

“Me?” She repeated. It was adorable. The way she repeated him.

He nodded, kissed her nose, then her lips. “Mhmm,” he hummed and slunk down further, pressing a line of kisses over her neck, her collarbone, over her shirt, across her stomach, and paused at the button of her jeans. “Been dying t’taste you, Cupcake. Sure, you’re just as sweet as the cupcakes y’make. May I?” he asked. Her heart skipped a beat and she nodded. He shook his head. “Verbally, kitten.”

She swallowed. “Please,” she whispered breathlessly. Harry popped the button and pulled the zipper down the moment the word came off her lips. Gently, he tugged her pants down and off her legs. He revealed her underwear, they were navy colored, a little pink cupcake printed in the center.

“S’adorable,” he murmured and pressed a kiss over the cupcake. Her heart skipped a beat. “Y’okay, kitten?” His voice was so gentle. She nodded in response. “I would feel a lot better if y’exhaled, Cupcake,” he smirked peering up at her. She wasn’t looking at him, could only sense his eyes watching her and feel his fingers hooking around the outside of her underwear ready to pull it out of the way—that way there would be just a bit of fabric still around her. He thought it might help keep her calmer if she was really that nervous. Harry watched as her stomach and chest deflated with her exhale. “Good,” he pressed a kiss to the top of her thigh. “We don’t have t’do this,” he reminded her. “If y’not ready.”

“M'very ready,” she mumbled almost to herself. Harry shook silently with a laugh and nodded.

“Okay,” he coaxed the fabric out of the way. Her breath hitched again, and Harry slowly dipped his head between her legs, licking a stripe up and down the center of her while her breath released, shakily at the feeling. He closed his eyes memorizing the feeling and moment of tasting her for the first time. He pulled harder on the fabric of her underwear to keep it out of the way while he worked. His tongue maneuvered slowly over her folds making her whine quietly with his mouth on her. Harry groaned softly against her and made his way back up to settle on her clit where he spent time sucking and licking the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh wow,” she gasped quietly. Harry instantly felt cocky and greedy. He dipped his tongue lower again, admiring the wetness that accumulated as he worked his tongue into her. Her hand reached for his hair, and she once more realized how soft it was. He reveled in the feeling of her fingers trying to get a grip to pull him closer and he somehow managed to sink his face further into her core. She moaned softly trying to keep her voice low. It felt so good. The tension began rolling off her the longer he stayed down there. All her muscles started to relax, and she really wanted to quit her job and have Harry quit his, so he could live between her thighs. It was downright heavenly. It was like his mouth and tongue knew every spot on her that would make her twitch and whine. Her other hand reached for one of his, the one that held her hip in place, the other moved from holding her underwear in place to her thigh, keeping her spread open just for him.

She tasted so good. As good as she tasted, Harry still imagined licking frosting off her in the way he was sucking and licking at her then. The idea made him harder, and he groaned again against her. The vibration flowing through her clit making her moan in response. The hand that wasn’t held by hers started to follow the path of his tongue. His finger gently coaxing between her wet folds and hovering at her very achy center with the need for some part of Harry to be inside her.

“May I?” his voice was husky. His breath was cool in comparison to how warm and wet she felt.

“Yes. Please, yes,” she nearly begged, and Harry wasted not a moment longer to give her what she wanted. He moaned again, sucking at her clit. She felt so warm around his finger, he thought about getting his dick inside her and almost finished right then.

Her whimpering was so hot, Harry was so in love with the sounds she made. He felt so happy to be between her legs and making her feel good. “S’that good, Cupcake?” He asked before devouring her clit again.

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop, please,” she almost sounded incoherent, breathy, and her fingers pulled a little harder on his hair. “Please,” she whimpered.

Harry wanted her to cum so badly he thought it would die if she didn’t. So he pumped his finger in and out of her, toying with the idea of adding another to make her fuller as he was certain that would push her over the edge and he wanted nothing more than to feel her squeeze around his fingers. It would be a delicious preview to how it would feel around his dick—whenever that time came.

“Oh my God,” she sighed arching slightly pressing her body further into Harry’s fingers and mouth. “Harry,” she whispered. “I’m—” she couldn’t even finish the sentence. Like it was a surprise that she was finishing without even meaning to. She groaned softly, her body twitching and her muscles clamped around his digit inside her. He continued licking, tasting how aroused and good she felt as the orgasm coursed through her.

She never wanted it to stop. It was the most relaxed she felt in years. She reveled in it, the feeling exploding in waves through every inch of her body. The expression ‘toe-curling’ didn’t do her justice. Every muscle was weakened by the pure, unadulterated euphoria that washed over her. “Holy,” she whispered to herself as she started to come down. Harry was still sucking at her clit like she was water in a desert. His finger slowly stopped pumping and he slid it out so gently—like he was trying to make the least unobtrusive exit he could muster. He pulled his mouth from her, kissing the inside of her thigh and centering her underwear where it belonged once more.

He moved over her again, the hardness beneath his pants pressed against her lower stomach as he held himself up around her on his forearms. He pressed a kiss to her nose as her breathing continued to come in short little exhales. “You’re beautiful.”

She smiled, thoroughly embarrassed. “Thank you... I believe it’s your turn,” she reached between them for the button of his pants.

“It doesn’t have t’be a one-for-one, Cupcake. M’more than happy,” he admitted. It was the truth. Harry felt lightheaded from her taste, her sounds, and the feel of her. It was enough to keep him sated regardless of how hard his dick felt.

“Okay, well, I would like to do it, if that’s alright with you.” Harry felt dizzy and nodded mutely. Unable to explain that he wanted it too, but only if she did. He lifted himself up and away from her, standing while she got to her knees in front of him. “Think it needs to be a verbal consent, baby,” she giggled flirtatiously.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, practically blushing. “Yes, Cupcake. Please.”

She quickly pulled his pants down to his knees and admired the bulge that stayed tucked in the light pink Calvin Klein’s around him. It was nearly mouth watering and she pressed her lips to said bulge. She mouthed at his dick, getting the fabric of his underwear wet with her lips and he moaned, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes. “I like that they’re pink,” she murmured, playing with the elastic on his hips. “But I’m going to like them better on the floor.”

Harry was incoherent.

She was more determined than last time physically and mentally. It felt nice to have her mouth a fraction of a centimeter away, just the width of the layer between her lips and his most sensitive skin. He lightly caught some of her hair in his hand and pressed against her mouth to create more friction. He was going to cum in a matter of seconds once his boxers were out of the way.

Fortunately, that didn’t take long either. She pulled his boxers down to meet his pants at his knees. She didn’t waste a second getting his dick in her mouth, moaning at the feel of him on her tongue. He groaned at the sound pressing toward her ever so slightly, not wanting to push her further than she wanted. But her lips looked like the color of fresh strawberries in the middle of summer as they wrapped around him. He tilted his head back up because he wanted the feeling to last longer than twenty seconds that he was rapidly heading for with her mouth wrapped around him. If he looked for too long it was going to be five seconds at most. “That’s good,” he breathed his grip tightening around the handful of hair he had taken. Her other hand reached below and cupped—

God he was going to explode.

She bobbed up and down, her tongue licking the underside of him with each downward stroke. It was heaven; her mouth opening around him for him to press deeper was blissful. He couldn’t remember anyone being enthusiastic about going down on him ever. She had one hand on his hip and the other reached for his hand and she gently guided him to press her further over him. “Oh fuck, Cupcake,” he moaned and gently thrusted further into her mouth.

He was covered in her spit within ten more seconds. It was so fucking hot, physically and emotionally he thought he was going to pass out. But the idea of not watching her suck him off seemed worse than passing out itself. The feeling of an impending release was forming in the pit of his stomach; it was the sound of her slurping at him like he was a popsicle on a hot summer evening that was making it form so quickly. He groaned, putting his other hand on the other side of her head. “M’gonna cum,” he warned. For some reason, that seemed to make her work faster. She moaned against him sending vibrations through him as she bobbed faster up and down his length touching so much further down the length of him than he ever expected her to do. “Sweetheart, I’m—”

He swore he lost his vision. Like this was the first blowjob he had ever received (it wasn’t) but by comparison it should have been. He held her head in place as he released into her mouth, his breath shallow as she sucked on the tip of him fervently getting every last drop of him before she swallowed.

If Harry didn’t need a recovery period, he would have finished again at the sight.

Daintily, she wiped her thumb across the corner of her mouth, and she stood briefly, stretching her legs, her knees red from the carpet. She sat on the sofa and Harry was staring at her as he gathered his mind that had exploded across her living room. She looked up at him through her lashes, lips red as strawberries. “Do you think we could do that again?” She asked quietly.

Harry groaned, apparently not needing a recovery period after all, nodded. He dropped to his knees, pushed her legs apart, and pressed his lips against the cupcake printed on her underwear again.

It was embarrassing how difficult it was to work any day following Harry’s mouth on her body. Which was most of the days over the last week. Fortunately, she didn’t burn anything—as that would have tipped Maeve off immediately. Though she didn’t mind telling her best friend about the sex, she thought it was private between Harry and her. So, she didn’t want to become a mind-numbed idiot just because Harry felt so good inside her... and licking her... and touching her...

Which is how she kept forgetting which of her checks were going into which envelope, so she had to keep redoing them. Louis is going to kill me, Cupcake. Her phone read.

Tell him I will be REALLY sad 😔

He won’t care, sweetheart. I am losing it because I can’t stop thinking about you 😍

How is that different than before the sex? 😘

...

Good point.

Hehehehe

I gotta get back to work, Cupcake. Let me know when you’re home, have a good rest of your day 😘

You too 😘

By the way...

I’ve had to redo my bills three times now.

Because I can’t stop thinking about you either.

Well at least it’s mutual 😉

After her late shift at the bakery, she headed to Driven. Harry mentioned he was staying late, and it had been a drought of four days since they’d seen each other. Honestly, it was probably for the best given they’d been unable to get most things done when they were around one another.

Unless you counted orgasms as things to do.

In which case they were getting a lot of things done.

Can you let me in? Harry’s phone vibrated with the message.

His heart nearly jumped at the sight of it and he all but sprinted to the front door where he saw her waiting patiently in the lamplight. “Cupcake, y’should’ve told me. S’dark,” he pouted as he ushered her inside, locked the door again.

She shrugged, turning into his chest for a hug. His lips found the crown of her head, making her insides turn to mush. “Yeah, but I learned how to fight someone off," she told his shirt.

He rolled his eyes. “Doesn't mean y'need t'go looking for trouble,” he mumbled.

She ignored his worry. “Are you still working?” She asked.

He nodded, exhaustion plain on his face. “Do you want to stay a bit or are you headed home?”

They were wandering back toward his office. The only other car in the lot was Harry’s so she knew no one else was there, but the darkness and stillness of a gym gave her the slightest creeps. “Can we turn on a light? It’s so dark.”

“I didn’t even notice,” he chuckled and flicked the light switch. Immediately, the banners, the posters, everything was illuminated, making it the place she was beginning to love as much as Harry loved it. “Been working for so long...since before we closed. Holed up here,” he yawned then rubbed the back of his head. His eyes drooped a bit. “Didn’t notice the sun went down.”

“C’mere,” she said and tugged him toward his practicing ring.

“Are you going t’beat me up?”

“Yes, exactly,” she rolled her eyes. “I think you would knock me out in one punch.”

He shook his head. “You’re supposed t’block that, Cupcake. Also, I would never,” he snorted.

She smiled. “Just want you to relax a second. Surprisingly, you always look relaxed up here,” she told him. Harry was told his whole life there was no such thing as perfect. But he had met her. So obviously, there was. Just, not everyone knew her. Harry held the ropes open for her and she climbed through, then made her way to center ring. She got to the floor and laid in the middle of the ring like it was a field of snow and she was going to make a snow angel. He smiled as he looked down at her. “See, relaxed already.”

He couldn’t tell her it had nothing to do with being in the ring and everything to do with her because she seemed so proud. Even though it was innocuous, he didn’t want to disappoint her. Instead, he chuckled and nodded. He laid down beside her. They stared at the ceiling. “Think m’gonna fall asleep,” he yawned again. She giggled. “Missed you,” he told her. “How’s your dad?” He asked.

She nodded. “Good,” it was always the same perfunctory response.

Harry wanted to meet him. It was obvious that when they watched movies that her revere for the man was tremendous. While she was getting to know more and more about Harry’s family, she kept her guard up about her own. The only person he knew—beyond the mere existence of her employees—was mainly, just barely, Maeve.

He wanted to inquire more, but he was a simple man and sensing his hesitation over her lack of a response, she rolled over, straddling his hips. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Guess it is relaxing up here,” he slid his hand up the front of her shirt, pulling the cup of her bra down so he could brush his index finger over her nipple. Something he happily learned in the last week was very exciting for her. Her breath caught and she closed her eyes to fully enjoy the feeling of it.

Within seconds, Harry was wedged between her thighs, her shirt and bra tugged apart, exposing both nipples to the cold air. Harry sucked and flicked them with his tongue. She moaned loudly; it echoed through the gym. “Thought you were tired,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Never too tired for this, Cupcake,” he assured her sliding his hand down the front of her pants and checking to see how wet she was and enjoying the notion that she was already soaking her underwear. “God help me, I’ll never be tired for this,” he promised.

Harry fell asleep just like the first night they met on the table in the kitchen after another fight. His phone was blowing up with congratulatory texts, pictures of the baby from Gemma—one she saw was the little miss in a Driven onesie that made her swoon. Harry would be even more in love when he saw it, she was sure. Louis, hardly allowing Harry to rest, messaged him the workout schedule for the coming week. But Louis didn’t know that he wasn't responding because she was letting him sleep while she kept his phone on the counter away from him.

She only made a half dozen of his favorite cupcakes this time; mostly because she didn’t want Louis to hate her any more than he already did due to Harry's lack of focus. She kissed the top of his hair as she walked by him and went to run her closing report while prepping the dough for the cronuts she wanted to try the following morning.

Her phone buzzed with another message from a stranger.

Is it true? :( It read.

She sighed. It was probably the seventh or so message she got in the last month and a half—essentially since she told the girl from her self-defense class about Jack. It seemed that he was still trying to date girls in the area. She was under the assumption that her name was thrown about because of the bakery. Oh, the sprinkles-girl went on a date with him. She said he tried to force her back to his place.

The confirmation from her end happened at least twice a week it seemed.

Yes.

She prayed they didn’t respond because she didn’t want to relive it again. In fact, things with the sleepy boy were so good, she nearly forgot about it entirely—until someone brought it up again in her DMs.

“Harry, baby,” she cooed gently in his ear. How different it was to wake him this way than it was the first night. “S’time to go,” she hummed softly.

He groaned tiredly, probably sorely, she couldn’t wait to get her hands on him in the shower (for more than one reason) but so she could massage his aching muscles on the forefront of her mind. “Did y’make cupcakes again?”

“Only a half dozen this time,” she whispered so as not to bother him in his sleepy, waking state. He sighed, stretched, revealing the V of his hips and the lower part of his stomach.

Well...maybe the massage was the second thing in the forefront of her mind.

“Lou will be mad.”

“So don’t eat them all,” she giggled.

He pulled her into his lap, his face nuzzling into her neck and he shook his head. “S’not up t’me,” he told her.

“No? You don’t control how many cupcakes you eat?”

He shook his head. “Make’em taste bad, m’gonna eat too many,” he told her.

“It’s against my religion to make a bad cupcake.”

“Then m’stuck,” he mumbled into the side of her neck.

Her lips twitched to say she loved him, but that seemed a little ridiculous...so soon after sleeping with him. Not to mention, there was still a lot she was keeping from him.

After a particularly rough training session, she was holding ice against Harry’s knuckles, and kissing him as many times as he wanted. He showed her more pictures of his sweet niece. More importantly, she was very right that Harry was more in love with the little one due to the Driven onesie.

“Do you think I should be jealous of the other women in your life?” She teased, kissing the side of his face as he showed her. He chuckled, shook his head, nosing at her cheek.

“'Course not, Cupcake. Do y’want t’meet her?” He asked.

For someone who looked at Harry a menacing figure in a dark parking lot, successfully got away from a man that tried to harm her, and took self-defense classes, she looked downright terrified at the thought of meeting Harry’s family. “I don’t... I don’t know Harry. Are you... sure?”

“Am I sure?”

“Don’t be cute repeating me.”

“M’not,” he chuckled. “S’jus’ a bit ridiculous t’ask, sweetheart. Course I do.”

“What if...” she mumbled something that Harry couldn’t catch but he was almost hoping he hadn’t heard any semblance of the sentence he thought she uttered.

“What if what, Cupcake?”

“What if your sister doesn’t like me...or your mom or...what if this doesn’t—”

“Oh, for God’s...” he sighed and rolled his eyes. “Gem likes chocolate. Mum likes butterscotch. What can you bake with that in mind?” His smile was so adorable it made her stomach flutter.

The way she began to bubble and smile about the treats she could make his family made her so excited it was infectious. Harry was grinning, kissing her forehead as she continued speaking as if he hadn’t even moved to kiss her at all. He set his phone aside and then the ice pack on the coffee table. “Y’don’t have any siblings, Cupcake?”

Her bubbliness ceased at once. Harry swore he saw the bricks of a wall begin building in her eyes. She stood, grabbing his ice pack, and made her way to the freezer. “No, just me.”

“The world would have gotten a cavity if there were two people as sweet as you,” he tried to joke. She didn’t bite. “Where did y’live before here?” He asked.

This question was safer as she answered readily. But she stayed in the kitchen, rinsing some dishes from their dinner an hour earlier. “A few states away,” she shrugged. “But my dad took me here on vacations when I was younger. I always loved it. I’m not meant for a land-locked state,” she smirked.

Harry was grateful her living situation didn’t make her guarded. “Where does your dad live?” He asked.

As quick as it came down, the wall went right back up. If Harry wasn’t there to witness it, he never would have believed she could look cold. “A few towns over.”

“Yeah? Did he move out here with you or did you follow him after school?” He wondered.

She paused, gathering her thoughts. Like she was trying to escape. Harry had seen that expression before. Quiet calculation, eyebrows pinched together, lips pursed. It happened in her self-defense classes. Then again in the middle of her apartment while she tried to figure another angle out of Harry’s holds while practicing her skills. It killed him she was trying to find a way out now. “He moved out here with me.”

Harry wasn’t sure how much of his luck he was willing to press so he opted for a gentler question. “Do you know we’ve been seeing each other for almost a month now?” He asked.

She blinked, confused by the change in subject. “Yes.”

“I call you m’girlfriend when you’re not around,” he smiled.

She blushed; it melted Harry’s heart. “Really?”

“Of course, Cupcake.”

She came back to him on the sofa. “So you do like me,” she smiled.

He snorted, cupped her face between his hands, then brushed his nose against hers. “What gave it away?” He kissed her gently, no promise of anything more. Just a kiss, a reminder that he adored her and yes. He did like her. Honestly, he was surely in love with her. But he thought that should wait until he met her dad... or knew anything deeper about her family or why she came here other than good real estate for A Pinch of Sprinkles. “I want you t’meet m’family, Cupcake. S’what you do when you’re in a serious relationship,” he kissed her forehead and held her against his chest. Her ear was pressed to his heartbeat. Steady and sure. Perfect. But she knew what he was saying. Just like when he encouraged her to tell him about what happened to her, he was trying once more to get her to open up to him. He didn't press further. Just like last time. But the silence ate at her. She was sure it ate at him too.

Part of her knew she would have to tell him. She just really didn’t want to relive that part of her life either.

taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleetiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @somethingabout1d19

ding: @ell0ra-br3kk3r

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

257 notes · View notes