insane rant under the cut 🫶

Daniel is obviously going through a #moment right now so I can't really speak for the other reputation era cullings (unfollowing people) but the only one I have 0 doubts about is Zak. like imagine having the kind of temperament & patience that would put saints to shame, playing the: no, it's fine. I'm unscathed, it's all business, I get it, the entirety of my career is just collateral damage and I’ll take that in stride and its fine!!!!!! part so! Well! Like!!!! Down to a T and your wretched, fugly fucking nightmare of an ex-boss won't shut up about you, wont stop making sly, unnecessary comments unprompted- when discussing his own drivers, when discussing other teams, when discussing other fucking racing series. And you've been gone for 9 months and it's fine. You're determined to make it fine even when it's not. You're fine because it's a cut-throat sport. You're fine because you HAVE to be fine, there was never an alternative. Fine is survival. You're fine because you've been through this before (except you haven't) when you left Red Bull and Christian, jilted, said [and these are direct quotes despite how insane they seem]

“I have to admit it’s kind of been like trying to convince a girl to go out with you that’s been pretty reticent. It’s felt like that." <insane btw

“In the end we gave Daniel everything he wanted and asked for and it still wasn’t enough.”

“We’ve bent over backwards to make it happen"

And Christian said all of that while you still had 4 more months with Red Bull left. And Christian was legitimately scorned (and, terribly, he may even had the right to be because he asked you to drive him on his wedding day and he bought your nephew the same car he bought his son and he still calls your wins his favourite races), he told people as much, probably let on more than he intended to when he told the media that you told him you’re leaving A DAY before renault anounced your contract, and the proposition was so preposterous he thought you were provoking him. And he said you're running from a fight and he snidely said he still doesn't understand why you left in 2018 and 2019 and 2020 and 2021 and 2022 (<no this is not a joke) but Christian also congratulated you when you ended Renault’s 10 year podium drought, said the podium is where you belong. He congratulated you on your second podium even though that race ended in a dnf for Max and Alex finished last.

You’re fine because you’ve been through this before (except you haven’t) when you left Renault. Cyril doesn’t speak to you for weeks after the announcement is made and when he does speak TO you and ABOUT you it’s acrimonious. But his vitriol is laced with praise, he tells the media you’ll regret leaving a team which has been made more competitive by your own labours and when you’re out of his team and he’s out of the sport he meets up with you to deliver on a drunken bet made in 2019.

And you're media trained, and chillingly diplomatic for someone with such a carefree brand and you wear the horrors so fucking well, you wear it elegantly, with grace. And you shake hands and you smile when you’re supposed to and everything is made fine by the sheer force of will. Until you’re injured. Actually injured, less than 24 hours after you told the media that you didn’t need the break, that you were sick with this ubiquitous eagerness to be back all throughout summer. And you’re out again. And all your fugly fucking rat of an ex boss had to do was not use the injury that will put you out for at least 3 weeks as a vicious one liner to undermine someone else. I have no doubt that’s what did it for him :))))))

Pls do Yandere!Alucard part 3!! I love the others! 😍

Ask: Pls do Yandere! Alucard part 3!! I love the others! 😍

A/N: I’ve gotten two asks for Part 3, so here you go. Note: Here are [Part 1] & [Part 2]. And other Yandere! Alucard’s imagines can be found here.  

TW!: As always, this is a fictional work about a fictional character. Manipulation and abuse in real relationships are never okay, and it’s never your fault. If you need help, please click on any of these: [x] [x].

Oh and for some ambiance while reading, listen to this: [x]

* * *

It had been less than 24 hours since you and your father moved into Alucard’s castle. The journey itself was horrendous, with your father laying down in the back of a rented cart, coughing with every bump in the road. 

‘At least he agreed to come,’ you thought. 

Truth be told, your father was never keen on the help of strangers, and you suspected that much was still true. It must have been the delirium from his fever that encouraged him to consent to such arrangements. 

Alucard was kind enough to help you unload your belongings once you arrived at the castle. He even insisted on carrying your father to his new room. You thanked him profusely. It took all your strengths, your fathers and yours combined, to simply get him into the cart for the journey there; yet there Alucard was, carrying him as if your father weighed no more than a feather. 

Truthfully, you were rather surprised to see Alucard walking around in the daytime- a trait you thought vampires did not possess. It seemed the more time you spent with Alucard, the more you found yourself amazed at his physicality. 

Alucard had set your father up in a room exactly two floors above yours, citing contagion as a risk. Your room, you learned, was closer to Alucard’s own, just down the hall from it, should you ever need something in the later hours of the evening. 

“So, I take it you don’t sleep in a coffin then?” You asked him. 

“Not currently, no.” He answered rather plainly. “Although I have slept in one before.” 

You nodded, intrigued. “What was that like?” 

“Sleeping?” Alucard’s gaze lingered on the dark circles under your eyes. “It’s a wonderful human invention. Perhaps you should try it sometime.” 

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “I sleep just fine,” you argued. “Besides, now that Father is here and I’m not the only one watching over him, I think I’ll sleep better. Does this mean you’ll take the first watch?” You teased back. 

“First watch?” Alucard stopped in his tracks. “Just what sort of creatures do you believe reside in this castle?” 

“No, I… What I meant was, for my father, I’d stay up with him at night, in the event he needed anything. Now that you’re here, I just assumed we would be taking turns.” You raised your hands defensively. “Of course, I don’t expect you to. I’m fine staying up with him by myself.” 

Alucard regarded you pitifully for a moment before he continued walking. “I have some tea in the kitchen,” he said. “Allow me to show you where that is.” 

Silently, you followed the tall blonde, wondering if you had said something to offend him. Perhaps your coffin comment? 

“Cozy.” The rich voice of your acquaintance brought you back to the present. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked. 

“The coffin,” Alucard repeated, descending the stairs, “It was rather cozy.” 

* * *

The castle itself seemed rather dreary and uninviting the first few times you had broken in. You supposed it was the nature of your entrance that colored it so because now, it most certainly transformed. Gone was the cold oppressive gray interior. 

Instead, you found yourself catching a glimpse of gloriously detailed bewitching pictorial carpets and paintings decorating the walls, luxuriant red carpet providing padding under your feet, and thick insulating curtains pulled open with pendulum tiebacks between every major room. It was a bit odd, to say the least. 

In addition to that metamorphosis, the dust and stale air seemed to have vanished as well. Perhaps, Alucard tidied up before you and your father’s arrival, but that seemed quite impossible; the castle was enormous, and a fortnight was certainly not enough time for him to have made such preparations. It would have taken days if not weeks to change the castle’s appearance. Surely, you must have been mistaken. 

Following Alucard to the kitchen, your curiosity got the better of you. 

“Are things… different, in here?” You asked. 

Alucard turned his head back to you, seeing your wandering eyes and interested expression. “No,” he waved off your amazement, “The castle has stayed the same way for years, cemented long before you arrived.” 

You nodded, frowning only a little bit. “It’s just I could’ve sworn-” 

“And here we are,” Alucard’s announcement cut you off. “This is the kitchen. One of them at least. It’s the only one I’ve frequented, anyhow.” 

You walked into a rather large-sized kitchen, with a tiled floor and two sets of iron-barred windows- one right over a large metal tub sink and another perpendicular from the first and centered so the light could shine on the main oak dinner table.  Across from that second window, near the entrance door, was a large cast-iron oven, set against a brick chimney. Nestled in the furthest corner of the room was a series of Welsh dressers and cabinets, stocked with plates, utensils, and other miscellaneous dinnerware. 

“It’s lovely,” you spoke, amazed. You were drawn to one of the Welsh dressers, noticing a set of brightly colored objects there. “What are these? Dolls?” You reached out to touch them. 

Alucard scooped them up before you could, and quickly shoved them inside one of the dresser’s drawers. “Those aren’t important, don’t worry about those.” 

“Oh, okay,” you said, biting your lip. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, it’s just,” you gestured to where the dolls were hidden, “I wasn’t going to make fun of you, you know.” 

Alucard walked over to the stove. “Oh?” He placed a kettle on one of the cooktops, before turning a knob and striking a match to ignite a small flame. 

“I have, or, had dolls from my childhood too. They’re probably falling apart at the seams back home somewhere,” you mused, “Or I might have lost them. Either way, it’s nothing to feel shame about.” 

Alucard swallowed harshly. “They were… they remind me of some old friends who are no longer with us.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You pulled out a chair from the table, opposite the side with the stove. “Did they live here as well?” 

Alucard nodded, retrieving a tea set from a different dresser. “For a short while, yes.” 

“What happened to them?” 

He shrugged, placing a fine pewter saucer and teacup before you. “The same thing that happens to all humans: they were born, they aged, they died. It's certainly not a novel concept.” 

At that moment you felt such sadness for him. You knew the castle was ancient, and you knew the stories of vampires began long before you were born, but you never bothered to ask Alucard his age, or where he fit in with the timing of all the local folklore. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you exactly?” You watched the slightest bit of a smirk grace Alucard’s face. 

“Old.” 

“‘Old’?” You echoed. 

“Older,” he said again for emphasis. 

“Older than me?” 

He nodded. 

“Older than my Father?” 

“Yes,” Alucard answered, drawing out the ‘s’ sound, in a soft hiss. 

Nervous, you picked up the empty teacup to admire it. The metallic pewter cup was rather dainty, with an impressive embossed pattern at both the top and bottom rims with an equally impressive embossed saucer to match. It was very pretty, and nothing like you had at home. 

You watched as Alucard poured the boiled water from the kettle into the large metal teapot on the table. The silence as he poured felt more and more suffocating as time went on. You suppose Alucard felt it too, seeing as how once the kettle was back on the cooktop, he was the one to initiate conversation. 

“You and your Father are close, I presume?” 

You nodded. “More so since my Mother and older Brother passed.” Seeing Alucard’s perplexed expression, you continued. “She died in childbirth, and my Brother, well, he joined her shortly after. That was a few years ago. My Father’s all I have left.” 

“Why haven’t you married?” 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re well of age.” 

“I-” you scoffed, momentarily lost for words. “Are you calling me old? I’m the youngest one here!” 

“You’re avoiding my question.” 

“I’m not obligated to answer.” 

Alucard said nothing, only picked up the pot and poured you a cup of steaming, freshly brewed tea. Again, the two of you sat in silence. 

Feeling less awkward with the silence this time round, you blew lightly over the rim of your cup before taking a tentative sip, careful not to burn your mouth. You then watched half in awe, half in horror as Alucard took a hearty sip, clearly unfazed by the scalding hot temperature. 

Seeing your appalled expression, Alucard chuckled a bit. “Another vampire trait.” 

“Is there anything that harms you?” You asked, incredulous. “You don’t burn up in sunlight, you’re not controlled by feral bloodlust around people, and just now with the tea, scalding water doesn’t phase you one bit.” 

“I do have weaknesses retained by vampires, yes. Just as I have vampiric strengths.” 

“How do you know which is which?” You asked, taking a sip of your tea, the temperature finally being low enough. 

“I’ve had years to experiment. Trial and error.” He answered.

“Yes, but if your trial went wrong, couldn’t you accidentally injure yourself?” 

“Better me than an enemy.” 

You nodded. “I suppose.” 

“What about you?” Alucard asked. “How long did you experiment before realizing you needed further help in curing your Father?” 

You thought back. “I didn’t do any experiments, I just tried everything I thought of to make him better. And I thought it worked, but then the sweats- 

“And the cough?” Alucard interrupted. 

“Yes, the cough returned. So I visited our wise woman and she sold me a tincture of wormwood and radish. It didn’t do anything. Well, it turned his skin red, but that’s about all. That’s why I came here. This place was my last hope.” 

Alucard did not comment on your desperation as he poured you more tea. 

“I’m truly grateful. Thank you,” you said, accepting the refilled cup. “Thank you for this,” you gestured to the tea, “And for this,” you said, gesturing broadly around you. 

Alucard brushed off your appreciation with a nonchalant wave of the hand. “It’s nothing.”  

You shook your head. “We had run out of options, what you’re willing to do, to try, it’s everything.” 

Alucard looked at you with his trademark melancholy expression. “As I said before, I believe I know what’s wrong with your Father, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make him well. But before we begin…” His hands reached out and clasped one of yours. 

You nearly jumped from the temperature difference. Your hands, having been warmed by the tea, felt like fire compared to his slender icy hands against your skin. 

“There are a few things you must know.” 

* * *

On the outside, Alucard played it cool, but on the inside, he was beaming. It had all been so easy! So easy to gain your trust, to gain your thanks. So much progress had been made and yet, he had learned your name just one week prior. You had relocated your belongings to a room in his castle, all transferred willingly, with no intention of removal anytime soon. Everything was working out better than he could have planned!

He was a bit hesitant to show you around the castle, having changed so many things. Then again, he assumed you’d be in too much of a state to notice. Castlevania was alive in and of itself, and he, as the inheritor of the estate, wielded a good amount of control over the living, breathing structure. The last-minute changes in decor were more of an afterthought on his part. Alucard truly didn’t mean to lie to you so blatantly, at least, not so soon after your arrival, but he had no choice. He feared that should he reveal he changed the entire castle’s decorum just to impress you, you would learn his feelings were much more intense than he was letting on. 

There was always a slim chance you’d feel flattered- a single woman such as yourself. Then again, in the past, Alucard recalled, his intentions were rarely well-received. It had been generations since he truly felt the love and affection of another, and it could be argued that those relationships formed solely out of proximity among Trevor’s, Sypha’s, and his destiny. With his Father vanquished, and the remaining group of supernatural beings continually shrinking in size, Alucard was further isolated as time went on. And it wasn’t just companionship he was missing. 

The longer Alucard existed alone in that castle, the less human he became; or rather, the less human he recalled how to be. That was also, partly, the point in changing up the castle, particularly the kitchen. He didn’t frequent it much, he had very little need to. Sure, he prepared food and ate on occasion, but as a dhampir, he needed very little to survive. Eating food was always more of a pleasure than a requirement. But then you were going to be living here, sleeping here, eating here. Things needed to be updated, for your usage. As a matter of fact, in his haste to have Castlevania conjure all the right things for you, he had forgotten to remove his newest addition of Trevor and Sypha dolls from the kitchen. It was a cruel trick on the castle’s part- knowing full well he wouldn’t approve of such items in his design, and yet, the castle left them anyway. It was embarrassing, and a further reminder of how rushed so many aspects of his plan were. Then again, you seemed to find it rather endearing. So perhaps, in the end, the visages of his long-lost friends worked in his favor. 

Besides, he was able to regain the upper hand, thanks to his question about your lack of a spouse. He hadn’t meant for it to come off as teasing, although, in a way, he later found he was glad it did. It brought an air of familiarity to your conversation, one that wasn’t present before. He… liked it. He liked it a lot. 

The two of you were still very much strangers, but things were most certainly moving in the right direction. 

Of course, the one sore spot in all of this was the state of your Father. Alucard wouldn’t call his prognosis hopeless, but it was certainly headed in that direction. It was clear from the moment the two of you had arrived, judging by your Father’s feverish and exhausted body in the back of that run-down cart, that there was little he as a physician could do to treat him. Even his Mother, the great Doctor Tepes would have been forced to face the harsh reality that there was little any doctor could do to secure this patient’s fate- either living or dead. In cases like these, fate seemed to hang on the wind, one swift blow in either direction could have your Father miraculously recovering, or being laid to rest. 

Then again, he had no intention of telling you that. You didn’t need to know. All you needed to know was that as long as your father was still breathing, Alucard was doing everything within his power to save him. The only thing he needed from you was your continued trust. As long as he had that, everything would work out perfectly. 

* * *

A/N: WHY DID THIS TAKE ME SO LONNNNGGGG?????? UUUGGGHHHH. 

Anyway, Part 3 is here! Yea! Maybe three months from now, there’ll be a Part 4, lol. The Ask Box is still currently closed to requests, but comments and critiques (and fellow fangirling) are always welcome! (No fr, tell me how you feel about Alucard cuz I love him & it has become a full-blown problem.) 

Oh, and because I’m not a doctor or an expert of any kind, I used these links for figuring out what tuberculosis looked like in the 14th century: [x], [x] & [x]. And here’s where I read up on old-timey medicine: [x].

Links about TB: 

Britannica Encyclopedia: https://www.britannica.com/science/tuberculosis/Tuberculosis-through-history

TB Online: https://www.tbonline.info/posts/2016/3/31/how-tb-infects-body-tubercle-1/

Latent tb vs tb disease (The CDC): https://www.cdc.gov/tb/topic/basics/tbinfectiondisease.htm 

Old Timey Medicine: https://www.abdn.ac.uk/sll/disciplines/english/lion/medicine.shtml 

Whats Black & White - Part 3

In which a park gets destroyed.

Batman is already on the watchtower when all the alerts start flooding in from London. All the present members startle as half of the screens start flashing red. Notifications pour in, beeping constantly. He glides over to the main console, pulls up a map and satellite footage. Assesses the situation. 

Hyde park is a crater. What on earth-

The footage glitches out, briefly, and he sees a distorted figure throw themselves at a humanoid shadow. There are bodies on the ground and ashes in the air.

A flash of blinding light and the satellite image fizzes out.  Batman barks out an order from his place on the deck; the Justice League rush into action.

If you were to walk down Londons streets - take a stroll in Hyde Park, for example - on any normal day of the year, then your expectations would probably be met. Wave after wave of people travelling to their next destination, next moment, next same old same old. This not what London looks like now. As the Justice League’s Batman noticed, Hyde park is currently a crater. You would not be able to take a leisurely stroll through it, just like a thousand people did not less than 24 hours ago. You would, however, bear witness to one of the final battles between two forces that have been fighting longer than most of modern society has existed. 

You would see a blur, right in the middle of what used to be Serpentine Bridge. A long distorted shadow, two blinding lights. Don’t look now - you’ll only hurt yourself. Things like that aren’t meant to be viewed by human eyes, by mortal eyes. Many a wiser man then you have gone mad from it. Hurry now, and don’t look back to the fight, don’t look up to the storm cloud. Pick your way down the remains of Bayswater Road, avoid the raining debris. Don’t look back, even though you want to. Don’t look the the left, where something was creeping in the shadows until one of those blinding lights outshone it. Just keep on the straight and narrow, like your mother told you once. Keep walking. (Don’t look, what ever you do, don’t fucking look, to look is give it attention, is to be noticed, is to be seen, is to fucking perish under the weight of a gaze so otherworldly.)

---

Thank you for reading.

PART ONE --- PART TWO --- PART THREE (You are Here)

#JamesDonaldson On #MentalHealth – How Using #SocialMedia Affects #Teenagers

Experts say #kids are growing up with more #anxiety and less #self-esteem Writer: Rachel Ehmke Clinical Experts: Catherine Steiner-Adair, EdD , Donna Wick, Ed.D What You'll Learn - How is socializing online different? - How does #socialmedia affect #self-esteem? - How can #parents help? - Quick Read - Full Article - Indirect communication - Lowering the risks - #Cyberbullying and the imposter syndrome - Stalking (and being ignored) - What should #parents do? Some experts worry that #teens are more anxious and have lower #self-esteem because of #socialmedia and texting. There are key differences to socializing online. Teens miss out on things like body language and facial expressions. This can lead to misunderstandings and hurt feelings. It can also make talking in person feel more intimidating. It is also common for kids to feel bad about themselves when they see everyone online looking perfect. #Teens often try to compensate by sharing pictures that make them look perfect, too. Then, when their #socialmedia identity doesn’t match how they actually feel, they can end up feeling worse. #Parents can help by setting a good example of how to use tech. Try to give kids your full attention when you are with them, and establish tech-free zones in in the house and tech-free hours when no one is on their phones. To help build #self-esteem, get kids involved in something they’re interested in. When kids learn to feel good about what they can do instead of how they look and what they own, they’re happier. Many parents worry about how exposure to technology might affect toddlers developmentally. We know our preschoolers are picking up new social and cognitive skills at a stunning pace, and we don’t want hours spent glued to an #iPad to impede that. But #adolescence is an equally important period of rapid development, and too few of us are paying attention to how our #teenagers’ use of technology—much more intense and intimate than a 3-year-old playing with dad’s #iPhone—is affecting them. In fact, experts worry that the #socialmedia and text messages that have become so integral to #teenage life are promoting #anxiety and lowering #self-esteem. Young people report that there might be good reason to worry. A survey conducted by the Royal Society for Public Health asked 14-24 year olds in the UK how #socialmedia platforms impacted their health and wellbeing. The survey results found that #Snapchat, #Facebook, #Twitter and #Instagram all led to increased feelings of #depression, #anxiety, poor #bodyimage and #loneliness. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space.  #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleFind out more about the work I do on my 501c3 non-profit foundationwebsite www.yourgiftoflife.org Order your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife: From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com Indirect communication #Teens are masters at keeping themselves occupied in the hours after school until way past bedtime. When they’re not doing their homework (and when they are) they’re online and on their phones, texting, sharing, trolling, scrolling, you name it. Of course before everyone had an #Instagram account #teens kept themselves busy, too, but they were more likely to do their chatting on the phone, or in person when hanging out at the mall. It may have looked like a lot of aimless hanging around, but what they were doing was experimenting, trying out skills, and succeeding and failing in tons of tiny real-time interactions that kids today are missing out on. For one thing, modern teens are learning to do most of their communication while looking at a screen, not another person. “As a species we are very highly attuned to reading social cues,” says Catherine Steiner-Adair, EdD, a clinical #psychologist and author of The Big Disconnect. “There’s no question kids are missing out on very critical social skills. In a way, texting and online communicating—it’s not like it creates a nonverbal learning disability, but it puts everybody in a nonverbal disabled context, where body language, facial expression, and even the smallest kinds of vocal reactions are rendered invisible.” Lowering the risks Certainly speaking indirectly creates a barrier to clear communication, but that’s not all. Learning how to make friends is a major part of growing up, and friendship requires a certain amount of risk-taking. This is true for making a new friend, but it’s also true for maintaining friendships. When there are problems that need to be faced—big ones or small ones—it takes courage to be honest about your feelings and then hear what the other person has to say. Learning to effectively cross these bridges is part of what makes friendship fun and exciting, and also scary. “Part of healthy self-esteem is knowing how to say what you think and feel even when you’re in disagreement with other people or it feels emotionally risky,” notes Dr. Steiner-Adair. But when friendship is conducted online and through texts, kids are doing this in a context stripped of many of the most personal—and sometimes intimidating—aspects of communication. It’s easier to keep your guard up when you’re texting, so less is at stake. You aren’t hearing or seeing the effect that your words are having on the other person. Because the conversation isn’t happening in real time, each party can take more time to consider a response. No wonder kids say calling someone on the phone is “too intense”—it requires more direct communication, and if you aren’t used to that it may well feel scary. If kids aren’t getting enough practice relating to people and getting their needs met in person and in real time, many of them will grow up to be #adults who are anxious about our species’ primary means of communication—talking. And of course social negotiations only get riskier as people get older and begin navigating romantic relationships and employment. #Cyberbullying and the imposter syndrome The other big danger that comes from kids communicating more indirectly is that it has gotten easier to be cruel. “#Kids text all sorts of things that you would never in a million years contemplate saying to anyone’s face,” says Donna Wick, EdD, a clinical and developmental #psychologist. She notes that this seems to be especially true of girls, who typically don’t like to disagree with each other in “real life.” “You hope to teach them that they can disagree without jeopardizing the relationship, but what #socialmedia is teaching them to do is disagree in ways that are more extreme and do jeopardize the relationship. It’s exactly what you don’t want to have happen,” she says. Dr. Steiner-Adair agrees that girls are particularly at risk. “Girls are socialized more to compare themselves to other people, #girls in particular, to develop their identities, so it makes them more vulnerable to the downside of all this.” She warns that a lack of solid #self-esteem is often to blame. “We forget that relational aggression comes from insecurity and feeling awful about yourself, and wanting to put other people down so you feel better.” Peer acceptance is a big thing for #adolescents, and many of them care about their image as much as a politician running for office, and to them it can feel as serious. Add to that the fact that kids today are getting actual polling data on how much people like them or their appearance via things like “likes.” It’s enough to turn anyone’s head. Who wouldn’t want to make herself look cooler if she can? So kids can spend hours pruning their online identities, trying to project an idealized image. #Teenage #girls sort through hundreds of photos, agonizing over which ones to post online. #Boys compete for attention by trying to out-gross one other, pushing the envelope as much as they can in the already disinhibited atmosphere online. Kids gang up on each other. #Adolescents have always been doing this, but with the advent of #socialmedia they are faced with more opportunities—and more traps—than ever before. When kids scroll through their feeds and see how great everyone seems, it only adds to the pressure. We’re used to worrying about the impractical ideals that photoshopped magazine models give to our kids, but what happens with the kid next door is photoshopped, too? Even more confusing, what about when your own profile doesn’t really represent the person that you feel like you are on the inside? “#Adolescence and the early twenties in particular are the years in which you are acutely aware of the contrasts between who you appear to be and who you think you are,” says Dr. Wick. “It’s similar to the ‘imposter syndrome’ in psychology. As you get older and acquire more mastery, you begin to realize that you actually are good at some things, and then you feel that gap hopefully narrow. But imagine having your deepest darkest fear be that you aren’t as good as you look, and then imagine needing to look that good all the time! It’s exhausting.” As Dr. Steiner-Adair explains, “Self-esteem comes from consolidating who you are.” The more identities you have, and the more time you spend pretending to be someone you aren’t, the harder it’s going to be to feel good about yourself. Stalking (and being ignored) Another big change that has come with new technology and especially #smartphones is that we are never really alone. Kids update their status, share what they’re watching, listening to, and reading, and have apps that let their friends know their specific location on a map at all times. Even if a person isn’t trying to keep his friends updated, he’s still never out of reach of a text message. The result is that kids feel hyperconnected with each other. The conversation never needs to stop, and it feels like there’s always something new happening. “Whatever we think of the ‘relationships’ maintained and in some cases initiated on #socialmedia, kids never get a break from them,” notes Dr. Wick. “And that, in and of itself, can produce #anxiety. Everyone needs a respite from the demands of intimacy and connection; time alone to regroup, replenish and just chill out. When you don’t have that, it’s easy to become emotionally depleted, fertile ground for anxiety to breed.” It’s also surprisingly easy to feel lonely in the middle of all that hyperconnection. For one thing, kids now know with depressing certainty when they’re being ignored. We all have phones and we all respond to things pretty quickly, so when you’re waiting for a response that doesn’t come, the silence can be deafening. The silent treatment might be a strategic insult or just the unfortunate side effect of an online adolescent relationship that starts out intensely but then fades away. “In the old days when a boy was going to break up with you, he had to have a conversation with you. Or at least he had to call,” says Dr. Wick. “These days he might just disappear from your screen, and you never get to have the ‘What did I do?’ conversation.” Kids are often left imagining the worst about themselves. But even when the conversation doesn’t end, being in a constant state of waiting can still provoke anxiety. We can feel ourselves being put on the back burner, we put others back there, and our very human need to communicate is effectively delegated there, too. What should #parents do? Both experts interviewed for this article agreed that the best thing parents can do to minimize the risks associated with technology is to curtail their own consumption first. It’s up to parents to set a good example of what healthy computer usage looks like. Most of us check our phones or our email too much, out of either real interest or nervous habit. Kids should be used to seeing our faces, not our heads bent over a screen. Establish technology-free zones in the house and technology-free hours when no one uses the phone, including mom and dad. “Don’t walk in the door after work in the middle of a conversation,” Dr. Steiner-Adair advises. “Don’t walk in the door after work, say ‘hi’ quickly, and then ‘just check your email.’ In the morning, get up a half hour earlier than your kids and check your email then. Give them your full attention until they’re out the door. And neither of you should be using phones in the car to or from #school because that’s an important time to talk.” Not only does limiting the amount of time you spend plugged in to computers provide a healthy counterpoint to the tech-obsessed world, it also strengthens the parent-child bond and makes kids feel more secure. Kids need to know that you are available to help them with their problems, talk about their day, or give them a reality check. “It is the mini-moments of disconnection, when parents are too focused on their own devices and screens, that dilute the parent-child relationship,” Dr. Steiner-Adair warns. And when kids start turning to the Internet for help or to process whatever happened during the day, you might not like what happens. “Tech can give your children more information that you can, and it doesn’t have your values,” notes Dr. Steiner-Adair. “It won’t be sensitive to your child’s personality, and it won’t answer his question in a developmentally appropriate way.” In addition Dr. Wick advises delaying the age of first use as much as possible. “I use the same advice here that I use when talking about kids and #alcohol—try to get as far as you can without anything at all.” If your child is on #Facebook, Dr. Wick says that you should be your child’s friend and monitor her page. But she advises against going through text messages unless there is cause for concern. “If you have a reason to be worried then okay, but it better be a good reason. I see parents who are just plain old spying on their kids. Parents should begin by trusting their #children. To not even give your kid the benefit of the doubt is incredibly damaging to the relationship. You have to feel like your #parents think you’re a good kid.” Offline, the gold standard advice for helping kids build healthy #self-esteem is to get them involved in something that they’re interested in. It could be sports or music or taking apart computers or volunteering—anything that sparks an interest and gives them confidence. When #kids learn to feel good about what they can do instead of how they look and what they own, they’re happier and better prepared for success in real life. That most of these activities also involve spending time interacting with peers face-to-face is just the icing on the cake. Read the full article

Black Friday Xbox one s Deals: EBay PS99 Xbox Deal the Cheapest Price to Date

Looking for the best Xbox One S Black Friday deals? If so, eBay's offering of 1TB Xbox One S All Digital console with Minecraft, Sea Of Thieves and Fortnite for less than PS100 could be the deal of the decade.

The Xbox One S mega deal was available at midnight. It's already eBay's top-selling Black Friday deal, with one bundle selling every two second.

If you missed out, you'll be pleased to hear eBay is returning the bundles at 11am today (November 29). They'll be gone in the moment they're available, so you need to act quickly.

It might sound too appealing to be real however this eBay Black Friday deal is real and the race to find the lowest price Xbox One S bundle among retailers is in full swing.

What is the best Xbox One S Black Friday bargain? The fight for the cheapest Xbox One S Black Friday deal all started thanks to a Lidl offer on an Xbox One S All Digital Console, which includes three games: Minecraft, Forza Horizon 3 and Sea Thieves for just PS129.99. The highly anticipated Lidl deal has sent other retailers like Amazon and Game into a frenzy to rival it.

Retailers such as Lidl and Tesco are vying for the best Xbox One S bundle price.

Tesco decided they wanted to share in the pie too, and unveiled an even better deal. The Xbox deal was similar to Lidl's for PS109.99 however it included Fortnite instead of Forza Horizon 3.

Tesco's title as being the most affordable Xbox deal was, however, only for a short time, as eBay has now launched the identical bundle for PS99. It's a bargain.

The best deals on Black Friday from discounted Apple Airpods, to PS50... Early Black Friday deals: This Shark cordless vacuum cleaner... Early Black Friday deals: Apple's second-generation AirPods... Promoted Early Black Friday deals: The Huawei Watch 2 smartwatch is... https://gametolia.com/

It comes with an Xbox One S that's all digital (meaning there's no disc drive and you can only download games from the Microsoft Store) ,console and controller, and three games digital: Minecraft, Sea Of Thieves and Forza Horizon 3. Fortnite is not included in the bundle, but you can still download it for free from the Microsoft Store.

While it isn't clear how much stock there is, it is possible to increase your chances of finding one of these bargain consoles by heading to your local Tesco and spending an additional 10 pounds. Be aware that stores that are open 24 hours a day will close at midnight tonight and will re-open on Black Friday at 5am tomorrow.

eBay has announced an Xbox One S Black Friday bundle that includes three games for only PS99

What is the Xbox One S All Digital Edition and what are its capabilities? The Xbox One S All-Digital Edition comes with a 1TB hard disk and 4K Ultra HD resolution for video streaming and High Dynamic range so that you can enjoy stunning graphics.

All your games, saves and backups are kept secure and safe in cloud storage, so you can play your games on any Xbox One. Pre-installing games can be done so that new games can be installed on the launch date.

Although there isn't a disc drive, Xbox Game Pass allows you to access over 100 games in a matter of minutes including top titles such as Gears 5 or The Outer Worlds.

Microsoft offers 3 months of Xbox Game Pass Ultimate as a new member for only PS1. This is one of the most affordable gaming subscriptions available currently. If you're already a member and thinking about extending your subscription the 3 month Xbox Game Pass Ultimate membership costs just PS16.99 during Black Friday.

How To Keep Up With Changing Last Mile Customer Expectations

The expectations of customers are changing quickly in this day and age. Simply said, customers who are not satisfied with a brand will quickly move their money to another.

Additionally, customer preferences are evolving more quickly than ever in today’s technologically advanced world. As a result, logistics and distribution companies must spend a lot of time, effort, and money to stay up to consumer expectations.

I. Crucial tactics for adapting to shifting client preferences in the last mile

Well, when it comes to shifting consumer tastes, the proverb “change is the only constant” is arguably best shown! Brand managers constantly worry about how the “next innovation” will affect their companies. They do their best to stay on top of trends so they can foresee these developments and take advantage of them.

Let’s take a look at last-mile deliveries, which is our pertinent issue. The typical delivery period for an internet order was around 7–10 days as of the turn of the century. That time is long gone!

Now that same-day and 24-hour deliveries are commonplace, Moreover, even this is being shortened to groceries in 10 minutes! Customers will easily turn elsewhere if your business doesn’t adhere to the industry’s standard delivery times.

II. The top 7 methods for meeting shifting consumer expectations:

1. One advanced route-optimization technique for speediest delivery times: In the past, especially in the early years of internet shopping, clients were less picky and far more understanding about delivery dates and potential errors. Now that time has passed, though!

However, consumers are far less forgiving and a lot more demanding in today’s “immediate gratification” society. They anticipate that their orders will be delivered on schedule. They might still forgive you for your early mistakes, but they won’t give you any more leeway. They won’t just stop believing in you; they’ll also leave you for someone else. You’ll see a decline in sales and profitability. Most significantly, regaining client confidence is really challenging.

Poor route design is a major factor in delivery inefficiencies (delayed or unsuccessful deliveries). Therefore, in order to optimize their routes, logistics and distribution companies must use the features of contemporary delivery management software.

Such a system weighs the numerous limitations to determine the best course of action by taking them into account.

These consist of:

· traffic patterns and the weather

· Vehicle type, cargo kind, and driving skills

· Size, speed limits, and the state of the roads

· Scheduled stops, available teamwork hours, and delivery windows

· Local ordinances (etc.)

These many factors are balanced by the route-optimization function when advanced route planning techniques are put up. This is significant because it enables businesses to efficiently fulfill consumer orders, provide precise ETAs, and successfully meet delivery deadlines.

2. Real-time tracking: Modern consumers prefer to be “kept in the know” about every step of their shipment deliveries. The time when the phrase “your parcel is out for delivery” was sufficient is long gone.

Customers now want real-time notifications (such as pop-ups, SMS, emails, tracking links, etc.) that keep them updated on the status of their packages until they reach their door.

This not only increases the transparency of the entire delivery process but also gives your customer a sense of much greater involvement. Last but not least, this real-time exchange communication aids in making last-minute adjustments to changes like order delays and unexpected changes in the customer’s schedule.

Make no mistake, a key differentiator in the struggle for customers is your order fulfillment time.

3. Customer delivery preferences: According to recent polls of logistics firms and retailers, about half of the respondents believed that customers’ choices for delivery windows and methods were most important when it came to last-mile delivery.

Up to the turn of the century, there were just two standard delivery options: Standard and Urgent. Additionally, after a consumer had chosen one over the other, they were unable to change their order preferences.

However, the last-mile logistics industry has undergone a radical upheaval as a result of the revolution in online shopping. The simplicity of choosing purchase specifics like time, date, and delivery address is increasingly something that customers desire. If your last-mile delivery software does not support this flexibility, you run the risk of losing clients quickly.

The software also provides drivers with a buffer and enables logistics managers the freedom to define realistic delivery schedules, while giving clients a wide range of options to choose from. This not only goes a long way toward fulfilling consumer expectations but also reduces the proportion of unsuccessful or delayed deliveries.

5. Personalized communication: According to recent surveys, 50% of customers will change suppliers if they don’t receive “personalized communication” from them! As a result, simply giving real-time updates is insufficient.

Personalized real-time communication, according to studies, goes a long way in creating a great last-mile customer experience. This component of customer expectations is something that should be met.

4. Free shipping: Nearly 75% of online buyers rank free shipping as the top factor when choosing which e-commerce sites to use. You must be able to offer free shipping with your delivery management software while taking unit cost, order profitability (etc.).

This not only draws in new customers but also makes shopping enjoyable, increasing the likelihood that customers would place additional orders. In the end, it results in the most crucial metric or customer satisfaction.

6. Use various models for order fulfillment: As was already noted, quick shipping is becoming more and more vital to online buyers. Stocking inventory as near to consumers’ addresses as possible is one way to do this. It is a good idea to use innovative delivery models to boost last-mile performance. These consist of:

· Online ordering with in-store pickup

· localised delivery

· hubs for micro-warehousing and fulfilment

· gloomy shops

· CORNER PICKUPS Flexibility in delivery fulfillment is ensured through an omnichannel model, providing clients with more options to suit their tastes.

7. Data-analytics: To express the obvious, it is impossible to handle today’s intricate distribution networks and countless consumer needs unless your delivery management system leverages data as its centrifugal force. Using data-driven insights, businesses may choose the most effective operating strategy.

Case Study: Logistics Manager Mary. She plans deliveries for both Zone 1 and Zone 2 delivery zones. She finds that the majority of Same-day deliveries are booked in Zone2, while the majority of 2-day deliveries are scheduled in Zone1.

She is able to recognize client preferences inside these two zones because of the sophisticated last-mile delivery software she employs. The software’s data analytics function combines AI and machine learning to provide Mary insights into how to manage her fleet more effectively.

Key operational data, such as customer satisfaction ratings and the proportion of on-time deliveries, let Mary keep a close eye on whether her business is providing customers with a positive order-fulfillment experience.

Conclusion: It is clear that clients have high standards for the completion of their orders. Purchasing last-mile delivery software equips you with the means to meet their erratic and shifting demands.

Read More about How To Keep Up With Changing Last Mile Customer Expectations

Epilogue

I dedicate the last year to Mark, whom without his relentless and unwavering support, none of this would be possible.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

 My gap year (by a 49 year old cycling adventurer)

“Look If you had One shot Or one opportunity To seize everything you ever wanted In one moment Would you capture it Or just let it slip?...

…

So here I go, is my shot Feet, fail me not, this may be the only opportunity that I got

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment You own it, you better never let it go You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime”

Eminem

Saturday 20th August 0900 – Sennen Cove, Land’s End

Finally, 24 years after I’d first heard of any records from running from Land’s End to John O Groats, there I was, with Eminem playing in my head, “Make it count” tattooed on my brain and my mantra ready to play on demand “This is what I do – point to point”.

With the sun shining and as Dire Straits. Money for Nothing intro finished and Mark Knopfler started laying down his notes, Doug Gale the RRA official Time Keeper counted me down…”Three, two one – goooo!”. I was on my way…next stop, John O Groats!

This time last year, I had no inkling of what lay ahead of me for the next 12 months.  I’d just started a senior position in “one of the big four” accountancy firms, having left a very secure job with one of the most successful software companies in the world. When I was approached about the job, something I described as “moving from comfortable slippers to a pair of trainers”, I was ready to take the risk, and prepared that if it didn’t work out for any reason, it wasn’t the end of the world. If you followed my blog from the beginning of 2022, you’ll know that the job didn’t work out, and after 2 months, I handed in my notice, worked a notice period of 3 months and on the day I finished, jumped on a plane to South America with an ever changing idea of where I would start and which direction I would head north.  COVID still ruled the world and unpredictability was part of everyone’s daily life: Flexibility and acceptance was the key to success.

I’ve taken a good few month to write my final piece on what can be described as a gap year (actually 8.5 months but who’s counting?). My trip across the Americas finished nearly 3 months ago, and the summer has gone past in the blink of an eye.

Whilst away, people who were following commented “you won’t want to come home” and “this experience will change you forever”. On the first observation, I can honestly say, being home is great! Spontaneously, I tested out a short adventure, cycling from Alicante to home with less than 24 hours’ notice between conception and landing.  From that short trip that ended up being just over a week, I learnt that this year, I’ve spent more than enough time in my own head as I found out, and by the time I’d reached France, having ridden quite a long way, and confronted with no accommodation options for the night and panache in a tiny town that cost 7 Euros, I was more than happy to cycle through the night to Bordeaux and get the next flight home, preferring not to spend another 3 days riding north into a furnace-style headwind, the likes of which I had plenty of experience in the Americas. Home is still definitely where the heart is.

The Americas experience has changed me forever on several levels.  If I ever do write a book, I hope to be able to draw these out.

The question I’ve been asked more than any other is “What was your favourite place”. I’ve not been able to answer that question for so long, as there were so many incredible experiences, places and people.  But with time, these three buckets have settled, and with that, Argentina has risen to the top for all three ingredients. Whilst I may not be able to pin it down to a specific point on a map, the richness of memories from Argentina stand out and make me happy more than any other collection of experiences. I recently watched “Race around the world” where couples (mother/son, husband/wife, brother/sister, uncle/nephew) were challenged to race from Mexico to Ushuaia with £3000 between them (which to me sounds more than adequate!). I found it interesting that the generosity and love of dogs by Argentinians was so ingrained in their ways, and so what I experienced is likely what anyone else would.  And yet, I was warned of how dangerous Argentina was, endorsed by the World Crime Index (18 most dangerous at the time of landing). Yet all I experience was kindness and love. From this I draw the following:

The less you’ve got the more you give

Be brave enough to form your own opinion and challenge convention and opinion

99.9999% people are good – 0.0001% are not, and this is what hits the news

These points ring true for most of South America, but where I experienced hatred, towards Potosi, I still don’t think those people that found my presence unwanted were bad. I see them as troubled and unsupported, with no vision or hope of how to improve their own lives or the world they live in.  I can see why they may resent me in their country.  I don’t think I’d rush back there, but it was a valuable lesson to have been confronted with another country’s reality first hand.

Comparing my rides through South and North America is like comparing Neptune and Mars: Both roundish but that’s about it. Landing in Florida after Peru rammed home the stark contrast between wealth and apparent poverty. But strangely, I felt more connected to the people and culture in South America than I ever did in North America other than the friends I already knew. Throughout the ride from Fort Lauderdale to Vancouver, whilst the occasional kindness appeared in the offer of a lift or a free can of seltzer, most of society seemed to operate via insular bubbles, surrounded by aggression and intolerance, and no obvious community. Even though I never settled more than a day in all but 3 places, because most US infrastructure is widespread, even compared to the UK, because there is space, space divides connectedness and community. Or perhaps that is also due to the politics, where some people believe that it is only a matter of time before there is civil war, and the country’s states become all red or all blue and more like countries than states (which to me is how the states largely felt even this year). Supporting my observation of South America, what I saw in the US was “the more you have the less you give”. People were more likely to be suspicious of strangers, less likely to go out of their way. It sticks with me like a permanent scar that when I was blown hard off my bike by the wind in Idaho, two drivers going in opposite directions would have seen me on the flat and featureless plain, but neither stopped nor even slowed down.  

There were many things I didn’t feel I could openly share my view on whilst riding North America, as I was a visitor and not a citizen, but I may also alienate many of the American audience that might be following my journey.  The three most resounding cultural memories I have relate to guns, abortion and religion. Since returning, as a result of the mass shooting in Texas that took place in May, there’s been a gun amnesty in that state, something I had vocalised rather than written that I felt needed to happen as potentially the only way for the American citizens to “have a voice” where the government won’t act. In 2021, circa 20,000 Americans were killed by guns, with 673 mass shootings.  I’m not an American, but my greatest wish is that somehow, they find a way forward to reduce these numbers in future.  I find it shocking that many states overturned Roe vs Wade and the right to an abortion.  During my trip, both anti-abortion and religion were thrust upon you visibly by huge billboards repeatedly and not restricted to the bible belt.  Add in the divisive topic of Biden and Trump, and it’s easy to see why families and society find it impossible to talk openly to one another.  And so, whilst I still loved the USA and arriving in Vancouver, where South America had a great depth and richness to the experiences where I felt like Ulysses in the Odyssey, North America taught me fortitude and solidified what was important to me.

Understand your emotional brain

Many of my friends are athletes, and it’s no coincidence that with this demographic, a good number of them endorse a book called “The Chimp Paradox” by Steve Peters.  He knows a thing or two, being the Team Psychologist for Team Sky for many years, and no doubt many other accolades. I tried to listen to this book as an audiobook a few years ago when friends were talking about “put my chimp back in the box”.  I struggled to listen to Prof Peters as he talked about everything he knows about the brain and how it works when it’s put under stress.  At the time, about 7 years ago, I didn’t feel like I had a chimp.  I was completely in control when it came to racing or challenges, and I didn’t feel I ever got to a sporting “breaking point”, where your brain is telling you that you can’t go harder, faster, hurt more or continue. Prior to that, I had one notable sporting failure in 2005, but most of the time when doing sport, I feel that I am still in control of the part of the brain called the amygdala, responsible for emotions and our reaction to stress, and this was put to the test on some notable occasions during the trip.  When on my own, with no support, my logical brain rules my emotional brain.  Notably, when I got caught out at 4200m in Bolivia in the middle of an electrical storm and sheltered between rocks, eventually moving before becoming hypothermic. Also notable was on discovering no accommodation in a sleepy Colorado town after 125 miles, and without prior knowledge or preparation to do so, riding into the night at altitude as the temperature dropped to 2 degrees, towards Colorado Springs on a desolate and potholed road. The decisions I made that night from 125 miles to 200 were all good and still astound me as I think back to them now.  If strength comes from adversity, then these two supported by many others have changed me and made me stronger.

How do these highlighted incidences and the many others relate to the emotional brain?  Well, the decision to attempt Land’s End to John O Groats in one go, a world record being secondary, wouldn’t have happened had I not been exposed to desperate situations.  Those are lessons I learnt about myself before I arrived in Land’s End and helped me press the big green go button in 18th August.  But I’m still learning about my emotional brain and more will come out about that later.  It’s one thing when my back is up against the wall, and no one to bail you out and the odds are stacked against you – for me that’s when the fight appears. I can now identify my weakness and as of yesterday, I found my true limit, not the one my emotional brain decided. I can write quite a lot more about this now I feel I understand it better and can relate it to previous sporting success, but that’s maybe for another time.

Take risks – try not to fail, but if you do, treat failure as an opportunity to learn.

When you go for something big, it rarely feels like timing is perfect.  Whether it’s changing jobs, going on adventure, ignoring convention and doing your own thing your way, taking on a challenge that is more likely to fail than to succeed.  All you can do is mitigate risk as much as possible and turn up being as mentally and physically prepared as you possibly can.  It’s easy to listen to “the noise” which can undermine your thinking. We’re all different, but I would rather have tried something and failed than to never have tried at all.  It regularly feels like I’m the one who fails whilst all around me succeed at the challenge they have set themselves.  I question now whether for some of these in the part of my brain won on those days, or as I’m sometimes reminded, the challenges I put myself up for are frequent and insanely challenging and sometimes I need to be reminded of how many times I’ve succeeded.

One of the very first memories of anything wise my mum imprinted on me, annoyingly at the time I was trying to sew (which I am completely 100% useless at), “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again”.  When she said this to me, I was about 7 and I was trying to make a fancy dress costume for myself with my crappy eyesight as my aide.  I doubt she thought I’d be putting this to use for all the challenges I put myself up for. I’m not sure whether she’d be laughing or crying now, but I’ve failed plenty, and I’m still learning!  I think the biggest regret I might have would be to have wanted to do something but be too old to try.  I might be too old to succeed at some point but until I’m fed up with failing, I’ll probably keep trying.

Don’t wait for the perfect timing because it will never happen

August 20th 09:00:15 – Land’s End

The odds are completely stacked against me – 4 key events marred the build up in the last two months when I’d once again made a decision in Salta that the E2E attempt was on)…

With my A team behind me, the wheels started turning. I put all the events of the last few months firmly away the day before (the less than perfect build up) and with Eminem in my head, reminded myself that the bike was perfect, I am the fittest and youngest I’ll ever be, and this was my one shot. And then ran into a Parkrun being run in the Land’s End car Park.  After apologising but refusing to stop, I hurdled what would be the first of 5 road closures to take on the rest of Mainland Britain. Here I was, taking on a challenge that had a lower success rate than summiting Everest, and the 10th attempt in 19 years.  

Never had I felt I had tapered so well, I pulled back my effort on every climb in the South West, and free-wheeled whilst gripping my bike against a hard crosswind on every descent. I’d given the crew instructions not to give me any time or distance checks, as these were noise and irrelevant. I was against the clock, and it was ticking.  Feed stops would be every 3 hours, where practical, unless I flagged I needed something sooner. Heavy congestion after 40 miles through roadworks was anticipated, and although it slowed me down, I made it through without stopping.  Two of the officials had anticipated heavy stationary traffic in many places due to it being Saturday, changeover day and holidays. Exeter was manageable and only one bottleneck south of Bristol, and finally more congestion on A38 were the only things to speak of that caused any concern. At 12 hours I had ridden 238 miles with 3,300m of climbing.  Things were looking good!  

Although I’d given instruction not to provide any time checks, one of the officials did north of Exeter, saying I was 58 minutes up on schedule. The reason being that with that information, you could either take the view of “Great! Aren’t I doing well?” or “Oh no, I have messed up”. Either way, the information provides the opportunity for the emotional brain to have a view.  My logical brain was looking at two pieces of information. Although tested day after day, my heart rate monitor didn’t work, which was to guide my effort. When that didn’t work, I used my power output to guide me, and elapsed time which worked to great effect.  Even the course profile didn’t work.

I have largely ignored power until then, but when I had no choice but to use it, I had to trust it. Not once did I look at distance or average speed, as these things really didn’t matter; I had to ride at a pace that I knew I could maintain for 50 hours; did it feel like I could chat to a friend riding beside me? If yes, good! If not, ease back.  

As I’d received this information, I decided to ease off the gas even more. If I needed a longer or extra stop, I would take it.  On telling Mark who was my lead support, he showed his annoyance too, and turned it into “contingency” not “up on schedule”.

There was so much support all along the route, which I’d not anticipated: all the way from Cornwall. One motorcyclist kept stopping, cheering, riding on a few miles, stopping, taking photos and riding on again.   Through Bristol, Janet Tebbutt (one of the 8 women solo E2E Bicycle record holders – 1954 – 2 days. 15 hours and 24 minutes) who got a big wave and smile. Shortly after, climbing up from the river to Clifton, two guys from Bristol South got out their cowbells and chased me up the hill.

All the way through Bristol, people appeared, signposting the way through what was a quiet city and a good time to pass through.

My first longer planned stop, and what I called the end of stage one was at Hyundai, Alveston.  It felt like a party atmosphere here, with support crew who I knew were joining, ready to jump in, and friends I wasn’t expecting, coming from afar to cheer me on with moral support.  There were lots of people I didn’t know too. I troughed a pot noodle, gave some people hugs, changed to a new top and after 9 minutes, hit the road.  Joining us were Emily and Tom, two of my friends from Royal Dean Forest Cycle Club and another friend, Abbie, who had driven all the way from Bedfordshire, who after a late clarion call had given up their weekend and annual leave just for me. A little further up, Mark’s mum, the wonderful Sue from Chipping Norton, appeared in the half dark, waving a union jack and shouting at the top of her voice. She’d previously dropped 10kg of chocolate off at the stop and appeared an hour later past Tewkesbury shouting with the same vigour as before.  

As the darkness fell, the miles quietly ticked away.  I continued in a world of my own, thinking of family and friends, wondering what they might be doing now (as it was between 2200 and midnight now).  I felt great! Then gently, something started to happen. I first started to yawn and put this down to the hour. My legs were still whirring away. I’d navigated through a road closure, towns and villages, and was pleased that I’d be going through this stretch at night. During the day, there is so much traffic, noise, congestion and traffic lights, it isn’t pleasant.  It felt like another world at night.  A few miles later, I started to feel the chill, and looked behind me for the following van. It wasn’t there, and the second van I hadn’t seen for what felt like 2 hours.  My body temperature was starting to drop rapidly now, despite my gilet and arm warmers. What felt like 5 minutes later, Mark and the support vehicle reappeared behind me. I found out later they had taken a wrong turn and it took a little time to catch up.  It was now five minutes past midnight, and just a few minutes later than the planned stop of 0000

By the time I’d got in the van to get more kit, I was shivering.  Wrapped up in a duvet, I ate: rice pudding, satsuma, some crisps, hydration. Mark cuddled me to help (or so he says), and without notice, suddenly, I was violently sick 3 times.  To this, Abbie commented “There’s going to be a lot of carb-loaded rats in Wolverhampton tonight!”  Everything I’d eaten was visible on the ground, and I became emotional, feeling John O Groats slip away. As my emotional brain took over, it took some persuasion to keep going, but whilst I couldn’t get any more food or hydration down in the van, Mark convinced me to get back on the bike, reminding me that once you’re sick, you feel better, and although I’d taken a hit, it wasn’t impossible to finish.  Ignoring that I was now under fuelled, cold but with Doug the timekeeper’s hat on and a whole lot of clothes, I set of steadily again up the road. Surprisingly, my legs kept turning and felt as fresh as before, which amazed me. I thought my legs would fall off with this experience. I knew I was on borrowed time in terms of taking on more calories, and with all the will in the world, slowly but surely, I tried to eat on the go.  The nausea stayed, but I got another 90 minutes up the road before I was sick again, everything I’d eaten came out again, and I found myself in the van once again, swearing at my useless body to just sort itself out.  Once again, I thought it was game over. One by one, my friends spoke to me. Mark firstly tried to will me back on the bike to just keep going, daylight would be coming soon, and go until 24 hours.  This felt too long.  Dave won me over with “get back on the bike, just see if you can and if it happens again, then we can talk about stopping”.  I know Mark wanted me to empty the tank completely before he called it off, all of us hoping that by some miracle, I’d be able to get some nutrition in and things would come good. When I got Abbie on her own, who felt like my friend and a mother, I said “nobody’s listening to me”.  She could see me faltering on the bike and had started to worry for my safety.  She didn’t come up with any suggestions, but just heard me out. After a cuddle, and a reminder that “it’s a decision to stop”, I got back on the bike and kept riding. About half a mile later, somewhere near Knutsford, my front tyre blew dramatically, and I wobbled all over the road.  2 minutes later, I had a new front wheel and I was off once again, into the rain and dark and approaching Warrington. Somehow, my legs were still turning, my quads didn’t hurt but I could feel them emptying of energy, and I was starting to struggle to make decisions about where I should be riding on the road.

We got through Wigan and I pulled up again.  Mark loaded me into the van and got everyone out.  He said, “Let’s try and rest up on for 20 minutes, try and get some sleep and see what happens”. It was 6am. I had wanted to be in Carnforth by then, the end of Stage 2, ready for the second half.  It was our last chance.  Funnily, he managed to sleep, where I just shut my eyes. When he woke, he said “Yep, you don’t look good, I’m calling it”. 19 hours of riding in 21 hours, 5000 metres of climbing.  It wasn’t John O Groats, but it was my attempt, and I couldn’t have given any more. Fact.

I didn’t cry. I hugged all the crew, apologised for the unhappy ending and promised everyone breakfast. We divided ourselves into cars and headed back down the road, exhausted, but somehow more closely bonded than before. What I really learnt is that my emotional brain tried to take over when things went wrong. I had no idea that my legs could carry on for 6 hours with 15 good hours of racing in them and zero fuel. When it’s easy to bail, unlike the Americas, controlling emotion and being logical will see you more likely to succeed.  I had to trust my team to make that decision for me when I kept getting back on the bike, and for that, I have learnt my biggest lesson.  It is what happened many times on my adventure, and I need to call on that more when I’m at home.

I found a new friend in Doug Gale that weekend.  Also supporting were Ian and Bridget Boon from Bristol, who had a purpose-built Vito specifically to support RRA attempts.  Bridget and Ian are also cyclists who between them have a few accolades including Bridget’s 24-hour distance of 460 miles in 1993, and their tandem records in 1987. Between all officials, they brought a wealth of experience.

I had wanted to finish this chapter with victorious photos in John O Groats, regardless of finishing time as per the plan. I didn’t want to do the attempt officially as it’s all or nothing, and with an official attempt comes a lot of pressure.  But it seemed necessary to gain the support crew that I had.  However, having the support along the road and from the crew will stick with me forever. Most of the time, everything went to plan. The wind wasn’t perfect, and it rained during the night. Who knows how the rest would have unfolded had I not been ill.  I learnt so much from what I did and have already reached out for help regarding the cold which seemed to trigger the sickness. Dave wrote a club report, which is shared with the most touching comment from another club friend and shared in this final chapter.  I didn’t get the victory shot, and I wish I was younger so I could try again with what I’ve learnt. I had said to Mark that I was too old to try again but I have no regrets to have tried, even if I should have tried earlier.  His response, having followed me for 21 hours was “I saw absolutely nothing that said you are too old.  If you’d pulled up with arthritis or similar, then fair enough. It is harder at your age, but it’s not unachievable”. Dave has already sent through his ideas for what could be done better for LEJOG Attempt 2.  It seems possible to write all day today as my emotional brain is dominating my logical brain, which is great for creativity but not good when you’re up against it!

I’ve had the time of my life and gifted with opportunities that most don’t have, and others only dream of over the last months.  I still don’t feel worthy of writing a book, but never say never. I’ve got some good ideas for what next, so watch this space 😊.

As the band Journey once said: “Don’t stop believing”

 Quotes from friend Dave and clubmate Ali

“It was an absolute privilege to help support Michelle Lee on her LEJOG attempt over the last few days. She was looking amazing for the majority of the effort and we all thought it was doable for a long time. For 369 miles the legs just kept spinning round like a machine. Sitting in the car for the whole time whilst that was going on, really hammered home just how ridiculously hard the 864mile record is The human body and digestive system just isn't designed for that duration of effort.

The weather God's weren't blowing hard enough and in the right direction either, which is an essential thing for a successful LEJOG attempt according to our Road Record Association observers. She was always about 45mins up on the schedule but after about 15 hours started struggling to keep food down and ended up dehydrated and lacking carbohydrates. To her credit she kept powering on for another 6 hours, throwing up and getting back on the bike but you can only go so long like that. At one point she even had a front tub blowout like a gunshot and did well to not crash. Matt Neale will be glad to know his front wheel got good use after that!

She had really experimented with getting the nutrition right but for whatever reason something didn't work out this time. Without the sickness and with the right weather and I totally believe she had the legs to do It!

It was amazing to help out on this well organized mission run by Michelle's partner Mark Leeming. They both gave it a massive shot, she say's never again but who knows! ” (Dave)

“I am so proud to be a member of this club, with Michelle’s incredible talent, courage and determination amongst us and the great volunteers who have stepped up to provide support. What a great effort Michelle. As Roosevelt might have said "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong woman stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the woman who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends herself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if she fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that her place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat." (Ali)

Final note:

Thank you to all who have supported me one way or another this year. There are many! Before the attempt I also had a good catch up with Chris Murray, who has attempted E2E twice, who holds the CTT 24 hour record (493 miles) and whom I still believe will do it one day. I’m in no doubt that her experience helped me and helped me crystallise some of my thoughts.

     Eminem: Lose Yourself (lyrics)

Look If you had One shot Or one opportunity To seize everything you ever wanted In one moment Would you capture it Or just let it slip?

Yo His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgettin' What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out He's chokin', how, everybody's jokin' now The clocks run out, times up, over, blaow Snap back to reality, ope there goes gravity Ope, there goes Rabbit, he choked He's so mad, but he won't give up that easy? No He won't have it, he knows his whole back's to these ropes It don't matter, he's dope, he knows that, but he's broke He's so stagnant, he knows, when he goes back to this mobile home, that's when it's Back to the lab again, yo, this whole rhapsody Better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment You own it, you better never let it go You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment You own it, you better never let it go You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime You better

His soul's escaping, through this hole that is gaping This world is mine for the taking Make me king, as we move toward a New World Order A normal life is borin', but super stardom's close to post mortem It only grows harder, only grows hotter He blows, it's all over, these hoes is all on him Coast to coast shows, he's known as the Globetrotter Lonely roads, God only knows, he's grown farther from home, he's no father He goes home and barely knows his own daughter But hold your nose 'cause here goes the cold water These hoes don't want him no mo', he's cold product They moved on to the next schmo who flows, he nose dove and sold nada So the soap opera is told and unfolds, I suppose it's old partna, but the beat goes on Da-da-dum, da-dum, da-da

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment You own it, you better never let it go You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment You own it, you better never let it go You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime You better

No more games, I'ma change what you call rage Tear this motherfuckin' roof off like two dogs caged I was playin' in the beginnin', the mood all changed I been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage But I kept rhymin' and stepped right in the next cypher Best believe somebody's payin' the Pied Piper All the pain inside amplified by the Fact that I can't get by with my nine to Five and I can't provide the right type of Life for my family 'cause man, these goddamn food stamps don't buy diapers And its no movie, there's no Mekhi Phifer This is my life and these times are so hard And it's getting even harder tryna feed and water my seed, plus Teeter totter, caught up between bein' a father and a prima donna Baby mama drama, screamin' on her, too much For me to wanna stay in one spot, another day of monotony's Gotten me to the point, I'm like a snail I've got To formulate a plot or end up in jail or shot Success is my only motherfuckin' option, failure's not Mom, I love you, but this trailer's got to go, I cannot grow old in Salem's Lot So here I go, is my shot Feet, fail me not, this may be the only opportunity that I got

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment You own it, you better never let it go You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment You own it, you better never let it go You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime You better

You can do anything you set your mind to, man

Because I’m gay

This is me writing some domestic headcanons with some of the genshin ladies because I’m a hopeless lesbian in need of some wlw love <3

Pairings; (Separate) Lisa, Jean, and Ningguang x reader

Warning(s); domestic fluff

Keep reading under the cut!

Lisa

Lisa is the type of woman who doesn’t bother knocking if she knows your home. Sometimes you’ll hear a “Do you want a cup of tea cutie?” from across the house it’s sweet. If the doors locked, well the spare key you gave her will do the trick

You often visit Lisa at work with some lunch for the two of you. If she’s going to slack off the least she can do is do it with you.

Weekends are often spent laying in bed until gone noon and baking

Lisa loves to shock you with her electricity just to see you jump, bonus points if you use your vision and make her jump back

As much as she complains about doing anything she’s more than content if she’s doing it with you. Especially if you’ve promised her things like picnics and kisses at the finish line

Evenings more often then not are spent cooking dinner and lounging on, the more comfortable than they should be, sofas in your you home. Often reading books, or when you’re not reading talking to each other about everything and nothing 

Lisa gets you matching rings, promise rings to be precise, your ring is purple and Lisa’s is your favourite colour. 

Lisa loves to kiss your wrists, you’re not sure why but it makes you swoon none the less

You love to give Lisa gifts of roses which dot themselves around her laboratory. Just before they start to wilt Lisa will press them into a sketchbook that she keeps for such a purpose. Nobody really sees the sketchbook, but Lisa likes to keep it around as reminder of the small, cute things in life

i am beggin Lisa to never use my name and only call me ‘cutie’ thanks xoxo

-

Jean

She never stops working. So much so that you swear that you can hear her muttering about work in her sleep.

It’s more than concerning

On more than one occasion you’ve had to drag her away from work when she starts showing the tell-tale signs of fatigue. Even if it’s just to pull her away for a few hours for a nice relaxing bath specifically catered to relax

She’s such a big spoon, relinquishing control isn’t really in her nature, considering how many things she personally oversees. And more often than not that is reflected in your relationship. She’s lucky she’s pretty

Despite giving her a spare key, Jean more often then not opts to knocking on your door and waiting for you to answer it. And on weeks where she’s been at the office for days on end you’ll be greeted with a bouquet of dandelions

You often return the favour. When you’re not working yourself you find yourself stopping by Jean’s office with something to eat just to make sure the woman gets some kind of sustenance

You often don’t actually eat with her, but when you do you try and steer the conversation onto more mundane and domestic topics, you really don’t want her to stress over work while she’s eating dinner with you

Dates are often few and far between and for the most part you find that Jean arranges them. They are often nothing more then picnics at Windrise and dinners at the Good Hunter. And if you’re particularly lucky you’ll come home to Jean in the kitchen cooking you something yummy

The time that you get to actually relax with Jean you cannot help but love. She loves to shower you with affections and make up for the time she’s been away from you

your stress seems heavy lemme kiss you rn jean

-

Ningguang

Tea time with Ningguang is your favourite part of the day. Where the two of you sit beside each other both with a cup of tea in your hands. There usually isn’t much conversation between the two of you due to it being the mid part of your day. The nice quiet before going back to the storm

Working alongside your girlfriend is nice, you get to be with her for most hours of the day as well as influence decisions of Liyue but boy does it make your head hurt a lot

The two of you have the nice rule of no work talk after dinner, which is great and brings a level of normality in your lives. Evenings often range from playing board games, reading books or just generally relaxing

On the nights that the two of you lounge about the second your hands are in your partners hair its practically impossible to get you to remove them. You love the texture and feel of her hair. And more often then not you’re more than rewarded with sighs of content when you play with her hair. Boy does it make you soft

Ningguang is a big spoon, she loves the feeling of having you in her arms, protecting you under her grasp and gaze

She’s horrifically whipped for you, you could breath and Ningguang is sat there like ‘yes, yes that’s my beautiful partner right there get them on a billboard right now’

She loves it when you come to sit on her lap while she works. She loves the feeling of being close to you even when she’s working

Sometimes when your sat on Ningguangs lap you’ll just feed her snacks and her lunch and the normally emotionally in control Ningguang is just a cute blushing mess

Ningguang is the one who initiates most of the kisses between you but kiss her on her cheeks and boy does she just grin at you. If she didn’t as much self restraint as she does she would just boast about you 24/7 ‘look, look at [name] they are so cute when they kiss me~’

hi ningguang i would love a smooch from you thanks

I live in the neighbourhood - Part 3

What happened to the cycling classes after work and the occasional drinks with coworkers? Now it was flying to Italy to vacation for the December holidays with Harry and his family and friends.

Ok part 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the final part of ilitn i believe! let me know what you think! plssss! Not proofread, but your support means the most and it means the world to see your thoughts, literally anything about it, and this little harry I always have to remember that’s the simp your honor ^ right there! anyway happy reading!

Read Part 1 | 2

Word Count: 10.9k | Warnings: swearing, smut! (finally) - oral (m+f receiving, dirty talk, choking? i can’t remember ngl there might not be, sloppy sex, outdoors by the pooldeck just btw, christmas, idk but hopefully nothing I missed, feelings! happy ending (possibly rushed 

-

“You’re really flying to Italy and then traipsing around the Italian countryside for three weeks with Harry and his family? I cannot believe you’re leaving me behind.”

“You’re gonna kill me for saying this, but he had said I could invite a friend or two if I wanted. But I thought it’d be weird with his family so you literally can’t be mad at me!”

“Fine. I’ll move past it, but how did you move past the whole panic attack? Like you barely spoke to him for a month and then he’s on your doorstep and you’re kissing and agreeing to a Roman Holiday?”

“It’s Harry,” she sighs, laying down on her couch. “How could I not, I got scared because he was gone, but once he was back, nothing else mattered.”

“I guess,” Cate mumbles.

“Oof, sorry Cate I have another call, I’ve got to go…”

By the time she tries to pick up the other line has gone to a message and she’s left to listen to her boss over a voicemail:

“Hey Y/N, I know your holidays have just begun, but I wanted to inform you that you’ll be getting a new client in the new year. Big artist! Anyway, just wanted to inform you that I’ll be emailing over some of their paperwork. Feel free to ignore it until the new year! Have a nice trip.”

She sighs. “Interesting...but will definitely be waiting for the new year to even think about work,” she says to herself.

She throws her phone to the side. Tired of all the phone tag and messages she had begun to have to deal with as the Holiday season dawned more and more upon her. She had more important things to think about. Most important being the suitcase laid out before her and the flight she was bound to be taking in less than 24 hours. This time, she wouldn’t be picking Harry up from the airport. No, this time they were flying out of London Heathrow together.

Together together? She wasn’t sure. The kiss on her doorstep and plea of Italian holiday meant a lot to her, but did it scream committed relationship? She had no idea when it came to Harry. Maybe it was better not to ask and just wait until he told her. Wondering had gotten her in a pit last time and she never wanted to feel the way she had over the last month while he had been gone.

She sleeps in her bed for one last night before leaving for a month. Harry had managed to convince the airline to allow Rori to ride with them in first class, so she wouldn’t have to leave her dog in a kennel or with friends during the holidays. She was grateful for that and she just didn’t understand how she had gotten so lucky as to have someone like Harry in her life.

They fly first class and while Harry had secured her ticket last minute, she insisted that he take her money to pay for the ticket. She was determined to not lose herself in this process. She would happily go along with Harry’s crazy life as long as she maintained her constitution. And paying for her own ticket was one of her ways of doing that.

The flight is short, a quick jaunt compared to the arduous trips across the Atlantic, both her and Harry were quite used to from their work and family lives. He smiles at her throughout the journey, coming across the aisle often to check on her and pet Rori. He would make little jokes that wouldn’t make anyone else laugh but them and he would grab the airpod she would take out and play whatever she had been listening to and offer a dance. His little dances were so sweet, if strange and awkward in the small flight cabin.

She wore grey marbled leggings and a matching thick strapped tank top beneath a nondescript hoodie. Harry’s dressed quite nice for traveling, she presumes in case he’s papped. Linen trousers, a collared coat, and some beaded necklaces he had taken to wearing over the last few months - each month seemed to add on another necklace, but she wasn’t counting.

He had reminded her to bring large sunglasses for the airport.

He had said “I don’t care if we’re seen together, but it’s more for your comfort. I hate when my friend’s lives are put on display for the whole world. You’re not the one who signed up for this.”

She had been appreciative and grabbed her largest pair of sunglasses because truthfully she didn’t want to be seen with Harry. She didn’t want the whole world knowing her or her business, it wasn’t who she was. No, not at all. So when they step off the plane and head to baggage claim after customs, she feels aware of her surroundings in a way she never has been. It reminds her of the way Jeff, Charlotte, and Mitch had conducted themselves in the bar that one time. Extremely alert. Watching people’s eye movements and considering whether they recognized her companion. She trails behind him a fair amount, three paces at least. Harry glances back every few moments, checking in to make sure she’s still with him as they move through the bustling airport.

They make it to baggage claim with no stops, but sadly Harry’s luggage seems to give him away. That or just his presence, he was a 6 foot tall and extremely broad man who gave off this energy that couldn’t help but turn eyes. And all it took was one of those eyes to recognize the fluff of hair, the olive-y skin, the peaking bird tattoos and colorful necklaces to alert the world of just where he was.

He doesn’t get stopped for any pictures, but she feels the number of eyes on him grow. She also watches as Harry doesn’t shrink from the growing attention. If anything, it simply makes him move quicker, but only slightly. He glances at her once to see her hood up and big green glasses covering up half her face. Rori has left his carrier and is covering the other half as she pushes a cart in front of her. He makes a nondescript nod and then sets off towards the exit, she follows behind easily.

By the time they’re in the car that was waiting to drive them to Harry’s villa, he’s gotten buzzed by Jeff just to check-in since a few photos have been uploaded of him at the airport. People were so fast. She shook her head in disbelief as she looked up Harry Styles on twitter and saw the scene she had just been apart of minutes ago on her screen now. She’s unrecognizable in the photos she happens to appear in and to everyone else she looks like another traveler instead of Harry’s companion or whatever she was to him. Instead of his friend.

Harry calls Jeff as they’re driven to his lovely sprawling home near Lake Como. He informs him they’re fine - he is quick to ensure that Y/N is well after asking her himself once they had gotten into the confines of the small car. She thinks it’s sweet especially because she was sure that Jeff really was more focused on Harry and his well-being since he was both his friend and his client while she was just an extra. The two men talk about the flight and customs and what Jeff will be doing with his holiday since he had turned down Harry’s invitation to come out to Italy as well. This leaves her to stare out the window at the passing scenery. She and Rori are completely content with this as they watch the tranquil life around them as they pass by little forests and towns over cobblestoned ground.

The colors seem brighter throughout Italy compared to the sad and gloomy winter of London. The dreary scape traded for something far more picturesque. Italy growing ever more beautiful the closer they drive to Harry’s home. Everything was so radiant, from the sun shining above her head to the little dew drops still pooled on the perfectly green leaves of plants she knew not the names of.

The car pulls up to the long driveway to Harry’s place which he insisted was just a house, but she knew better. The driveway felt like half a mile of perfect cobblestones, seemingly handpicked to make the smoothest drive. Outside the house sat a gorgeous little convertible that was in between steel and cream and sparkled in the sun. The top was currently up, but she could tell the interior was just as nice as the exterior. Harry had a thing for cars and she suspected that no matter where he was, he managed to keep his cars in perfect condition.

The house was breathtaking due to its simultaneous simplicity and intricacy. It’s coloring was variations of cream and gold and some terra cotta. But it sprawled into the hillside behind it and wrapped around the nature to the side of it and the pool to the back right of it. There also was a little separate shed like thing that also seemed to be a residence. Harry insisted it was just an extra bedroom, but it looked like almost another house to her.

As she stepped out of the car, she thought that she might get lost in that house if she was left to wander around it by herself. A feeling she feared to get accustomed to.

The door of the house was a dark green that seemed oddly familiar to her as she walked through it. And when Harry looked back to make sure she had gotten in the house alright she recognized it. His door somehow matched the color of his eyes in dark lighting. A green that was timeless and ancient at the same time. A green that was unnerving yet inviting. A green that was Harry. She never thought she had a favorite color, but in that moment she was sure it was his eyes.

Harry calls her name and she realizes he’s been saying it for awhile.

“Sorry?”

He smiles fondly at her confused face and leans towards her as if he might kiss her. She stops breathing in that moment, wanting more than anything for that to be his next move. His chest brushes against hers, his warmth invading her space. His face is a mere milimeter from hers and she can count every speck of stubble on his jaw. But his lips don’t brush gently over hers in a way that she knew was addicting. Instead, his strong hand reaches past her and shuts the entrancing green door gently.

His eyes flicker back to her face when he pulls back, taking a single step backwards to allow for a comfortable space between them. Still close, but not like he’s about to embrace her expecting frame and kiss her.

“I asked if you wanted a tour of the house? Or if you just wanted me to pick your room.” His eyes are crinkled at the corner, a smile on his face even though his mouth is hung open in a lingering question.

She blinks her eyes and twitches her head to glance around the rest of her surroundings. Rori had run off the moment they had gotten in the door. The hallway Harry and she found themselves was narrow and simple, a single painting right behind Harry’s head was the sole decoration and a tapestry style rug beneath their feet. She nods after a moment, feeling all her words caught somewhere in her throat for no reason at all.

“Good,” he nods and gives her a funny look, trying to understand her quiet demeanor. “Just drop your stuff here for now,” he adds.

His hand encircles her wrist, as it had grown accustomed to, to lead her through the house. She bites her lower lip to muffle the little giggle that somehow escapes her as he tugs her playfully down and through the house.

He goes on about almost every piece of art and trinket he has hung and placed throughout the house. Each thing has its story and Harry waxes eloquent on every single one. He shows her each room in the house and then leads her outside through the single door of the master bedroom on the second floor. The door takes them onto a small balcony that overlooks the center of the estate which included the pool and then a garden to the left of the converted poolhouse - what Harry insisted it be called when Y/N had told him it was a mini house.

His hand has traveled down to intertwine with hers as the tour had drawn on. So as he leads her down the little spiral staircase to the ground floor, she hums at the warmth his thumb rubs into her skin ever so softly. His eyes flicker to her face and hold her gaze for a moment as he watches her descend the last two stairs.

She smiles at him, her cheeks rosy from the air outside. They walk between the garden and the pool to reach the “converted pool house” and she stops for a moment to dance her fingers through the perfectly clean pool water - he must have had a housekeeper who came by recently to open everything up and clean it all.

“This is truly amazing, Harry,” she sighs as she stares out at the entire house from the single stone upstep to the little cottage. It gave her a view of the entire place besides the front of the house. It was gorgeous.

Harry nods, tucking his head to his chest slightly, possibly feeling a little bashful. Behind the successful man that stood before her was a young boy with a dream that had made this possible and he never forgot that.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely and unlocks the door of the cottage, a similar green is painted on this door as well.

She goes ahead of him at his request and he watches her fingers on the green paint, caressing it softly, each finger never wishing to leave it as they slowly depart its surface. This place is just a microcosm of the house they had just been. A kitchenette, a living area, a bedroom, and a full bath - including a freestanding tub.

She all but runs around the place, fingers running over the countless spines of books that Harry mindlessly chose to store there in ceiling high bookshelves and eyes taking in prints of personal photography he had been too nervous to store anywhere but here. There were larger poster sized prints as well as smaller ones, all black and white, of different scenes on the walls of the living area. Some were portraits of loved ones, others were landscapes of cities and countryside alike, and some were of past lovers with their hair swept behind them as they looked back at Harry in some beautiful place. She smiled at these obviously film photographs and turned to Harry after a moment, almost mirroring the people in the more personal pictures.

“When’s the last time you used your camera?” She asks.

Harry’s figure is perched in the door, his body slightly slumped on the frame while he rolls his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. He hums, thinking back to the last time he took out his camera.

“Last tour...I think. I got film back with Camille in it and I just didn’t feel like putting more in it after that,” he rasps out and clears his throat at the end, clearly unnerved by the topic.

“Well, these are beautiful, you have a smart eye for catching precious moments,” she smiles softly, understanding Harry’s apprehension.

“Thanks,” his voice still a bit deeper than usual, “I still use my Super8 pretty regularly when I’m doing things for work. Like when I shoot music videos, I usually bring it along to get my own footage for later.”

She only nods and watches him enter the room, moving closer to her to gaze at the images more up close as well.

“I like to have something to remember it by. Just in case, someday,” he starts and sighs, eyes trained on the wall of memories, “My mind isn’t what it once was.”

She watches him delicately place his hand on the couch behind them to brace himself and she notices the slight fear in his face as he says it. She blinks at the scene in front of her. A man in an amazing moment in his life fearful that it might all disappear from his vision someday. A horrible thought that seems to plague him more often than one would expect.

She nudges closer to him immediately. Her shoulder brushes his arm as she presses her head to his own shoulder and stays there firmly.

“Thank you,” she whispers and his head drops down to look at her face now radiating warmth against him. “For sharing this with me.”

His hand on the couch moves to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. Instinctively, she wraps her arms around his waist and he rests his head atop of hers. He stays silent but places a chaste kiss in her hair. She squeezes harder, telling him everything is alright and all he had to be with her was himself.

He switches his gaze between the girl wrapped up in him and the pictures of the rest of his life in front of him and he takes it all in. He feels safe, a comfort he was hard pressed to find with his life always on the move. The bustling change felt eons away while he was wrapped up in her. She was constant and kind. Understanding. She took him as he was, no expectations. That realization has him melting further into her, his head dropping down to her shoulder and nosing into her hair. His hands cusping at the back of her neck and the small of her back. And he presses firmly yet gently.

They stand there, swaying slightly to an unknown tune that played only in their private world of just them two.

A branch sways too and breaks them out of their reverie when it taps against the French doors that lead out to somewhere else in Harry’s estate.

“I think I’d like to stay here, if that’s alright,” she says, pulling back from him only slightly.

His hands migrate from their embrace around her back and neck and slide to her hip and her shoulder separately. Her hands both rest on his chest and she feels his consistent heartbeat that she had been listening to for the last few minutes against her ear.

His eyes sparkle at her suggestion. “Really? There’s plenty of spots in the main house,” he rushes.

“No, I love this place,” she glances around once more, soaking in the cozy room that housed Harry’s art. “Plus, your family will be here tomorrow and you should all be together under one roof for the holidays. I know how rare that can be.”

He nods in agreement and twists a tendril of her hair around one of his fingers slowly. She doesn’t notice until he makes an experimental and playful tug on it. Her lips purse at the feeling and her eyes narrow.

“You’re an evil little thing under all those layers of niceties and kind words, Mr. Styles,” she says as she pulls away from him.

Now that it was decided on where she would be staying for the next few weeks, she wanted to get her things settled and take a shower possibly. She also needed to check in on Rori and see what he had gotten up to while they had been wandering.

Harry laughs, filled with an unmatched glee as he follows her out of the cottage and back into the main house, “I can show you evil if that’s what you want, dove. I’ll give you anything you want.”

And while she knows he’s saying this in jest, she knows he’s also telling the truth. He’d give her just about anything she wanted, all she had to do was ask.

-

After settling the house a bit, finding where Rori wanted to sleep - he chose inside the main house, and some showers, she and Harry both felt refreshed.

She walked out of the front door of the cottage and crossed to the French doors at the middle point of the house. They had them open to get fresh air in the house and she walked right through and into the kitchen where she found Harry and her dog happily perched on the countertop.

Rori batted at Harry’s hands and nuzzled into his scratches as Harry cradled him to his chest. It was criminally sweet and she knocked on the door frame to pull Harry’s attention away from her furry friend.

“You look nice,” Harry smiles.

She glances down at her outfit; a cashmere olive colored sweater and high waisted cream corduroys along with her sneakers of choice. She thought it was casual, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. She murmurs a thanks and a quick “you too”, she didn’t even need to look at what he was wearing, he always looked good. Her head tilts to rest on the door frame as well, her eyes trained on Harry’s face.

“Do you want to go for a drive?” He inquires as he places Rori back on the ground.

The dog scampers to her side for a moment before running off to do his own thing. Her lips quirk up on the sides and her eyes narrow slightly. He’s looking at her with a quiet confidence set in his jaw that she doesn’t quite understand.

His smile makes her bite her lip, slightly unnerved by the energy he was giving off. Maybe it was because they were completely alone - not something new to them since that’s how they interacted almost solely, but something about being in Italy seemed to have shifted the dynamic. Something in the water or whatever that saying was.

“Do I get to drive?” She stands from her leaning position and crosses in front of him.

His laugh comes out quickly and heartily. “No chance, dove.”

She groans and pushes at his shoulder.

“Trust me, you’ll like it better. Can just enjoy the scenery, don’t have to focus on the road.”

He wraps a hand around her waist and then scoots her towards the door that would lead them out of the house. She giggles at the contact and she feels him watching her. It felt nice, felt simply theirs.

He drove her down the driveway and onto a country road until it merged into a road by the lake. He brought the top down so the wind rushed around them, blustering about as he drove at a quick yet somehow leisurely pace. She glanced at the scenery and took a few pictures, but something else kept demanding her attention.

Harry. He was a quiet kind of handsome in this moment. It wasn’t in your face, it was just how each curve of his skin seemed perfectly placed. Every pore was clear and every mole had a reason. His tattoos peeking from his collar and shirt sleeves were that perfect inky black that remained smooth. It was consistent, the way his hair fell over his forehead and he would smooth it back without even thinking. His eyes were focused and bright, yet slightly stormier than normal. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. And she wondered what she had done to be beside him at that moment. Wondered what it was that she had done to be cared for by Harry.

His hand on her leg brings her out of her mind once again. His looks always seemed to get her lost in thought. He was just that special. No one else had ever caused any similar reaction. His fingers splay on her thigh, no rings on them today. He rubs his thumb back and forth softly and she leans closer to him to whisper in his ear. They were completely alone, but it felt like something even the wind didn’t deserve to hear.

He tilts his head to her, eyes flickering to her movement for a moment and then back to the road. His hand on her thigh slips upwards with how she moves.

“I’m the most lucky girl in the world,” she says, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she says the words.

She pulls back and stares at him, her hand going down to her thigh to play with his lovingly. He looks at her again and sees her serious expression. This causes him to pull over on the side of the road by the water. He rubs at her thigh again with his thumb and she shifts in her seat.

“And why’s that?” His voice low as he asks and shifts the car into park.

“Because I’m here, with you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world.”

He hums in response and licks at his lips when her sweater happens to fall off her shoulder. She notices the slip, but doesn’t bother to fix it since she also saw how Harry’s eyes danced over the newly exposed skin.

“I wouldn’t trade this either” the words dance slowly off the tip of his tongue. His accent fuller as he says the last word. “Let’s walk around,” Harry suggests when he sees her eyes flicker between his and his lips.

They explore the grassy area that lives just before the dip of the water at Harry’s request. He guides her along with his hand entwined with hers. Her eyes stay on only him still, the scenery unable to compare to the beauty of him that she was just fully realizing how bad she wanted to be enveloped in. His profile is illuminated by the sun shining above them and she swears he’s sparkling under the light.

The fear of what they were and all of the things that came along with labels were the furthest away thoughts. The man who had been the quirky neighbour had transformed into the man she was pretty sure she was in love with. Too afraid to say those three words, she decided the best thing she could do was to show rather than tell.

“Harry,” she calls and he stops his wandering, turning to face her instead.

A hand reaches up to trace over his strong cheekbone and caresses down the side of his face and cradles his slightly stubbled jaw. Her thumb rubs over the place where his dimple often showed up. He sighs into her touch and says her name back. His voice fails him as he gazes down at her, everything he means to say dies in his throat, for once at a loss for words.

She purses her lips and reaches up to connect their lips, having missed his sweet lips touch. They were meant to press against hers. Harry seems to forget how to breathe, her initiating the kiss between them, something foreign to him, but not unwelcome. He leans down to make it easier on her and she glows in his reciprocation. His hand shifts to cradle the back of her head as the kiss continues. Their lips dance, brushing back and forth, tongues slightly licking into one another’s mouths ever so delicately, playfully even.

A specific clash of teeth as the kiss continues leads to a breathless laugh from her as Harry presses himself closer to her. His other hand pressing her waist safely into him. She happily obliges, sinking one hand to rest over his backside which makes him smile.

“Naughty,” he mumbles against her brightening lips, eyebrows bobbing over his closed eyes.

She laughs now, her head tilting up for a moment, eyes opening to look at his face, yet up so close it's just his eyes and upper cheeks. His eyes are extra large from this angle and the grey green they had been dancing between had merged into a darkening seafoam green that was rather rare for them. She wanted to take an inventory of every color his eyes managed to be, but she was sure the list would never end.

“You like it,” she quips back, a peck sneaked at the corner of his mouth. That little love touch leads to more minutes of making out. Her supple and soft chest against his strong one, hands roaming the other’s body searching for purchase. Soft sighs and gentle moans leave Harry’s mouth when she nibbles at his ear and leaves loving kisses to his neck and collarbone. She makes similar sounds when he laves his tongue over the hollow of her neck and mouths happily on her neck.

The sight of them is two lovers enthralled in each other’s mouths and bodies in a meadow beside a lake. The sounds of nature are only overtaken by their happiness with each other.

When he ruts his hips against her body and she writhes against him with eagerness previously not seen, Harry realizes just how in public they are and he pulls away. A whine of discontent falling from her lips before she can control herself.

“We should…” He falters again, staring down at his neighbour he had begun to want more than anything else in the world, “Should head back.”

“Right,” she nods curtly.

Hands falling back to her sides, but Harry grabs one of them and intertwine their fingers as they had them before. She smiles so wide her eyes crinkle at the corners and he can’t help himself to peck at the left side of her temple.

They drive back to the house and Harry suggests a dip in the pool which Y/N agrees to easily. Something to cool them off from the heavy makeout session they had partaken in down by the water.

“Everyone else is arriving tomorrow,” Harry says after he surfaces from his expert dive into the deep end. He treads water lightly and drifts towards her.

She’s floating on her back a little ways from him. Her hair was shimmery all wet again and the  skin of her face glowed with tiny droplets. Her eyes were closed as she moved her hands back and forth through the comfortable water.

She feels his eyes on her, burning into her, waiting for a response. She peaks open one eye and looks at him. His cheeks pinken quickly from the slight embarrassment of being caught, but he doesn’t look away.

“It’s going to be really fun, Harry,” she rights herself and swims closer to him causing him to smile happily. “I’m really happy to be here.”

“It won’t be just us anymore,” he says, swimming backwards and creating a slight chase for her as she follows after him.

She narrows her eyes at his tactics, but still follows as he swims to the edge of the pool where they could both stand.

“Nope, but we’re gonna really get the holiday spirit flowing. Family dinners and games, shopping for gifts...this really is one of my favorite times of the season,” she smiles back at him and puts her hand against the edge of the pool, her chest emerging from beneath the cooling water.

Droplets roll down her chest, racing down her body and in between her cleavage. Harry’s eyes follow the water droplets disappearing beneath her bright red tied bikini top. He gets distracted when the air pebbles her nippls beneath the thin wet fabric, his tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight. The round of her breast was especially full in the thin fabric. He had never seen this much of her despite their friendship lasting for many months now. It was...mouthwatering and his eyes stayed trained on her breasts as they rhythmically moved up and down with her breathing. It was like a spell.

That he was brought out of when a splash of water flicks at his face. She gives him an obvious look saying she had caught him staring and then she rolls her eyes at his smirk obviously not embarrassed by his latest fixation.

“We won’t be alone like this,” he steps closer to her, his own chest running with water droplets. His hair messy and wet atop his head as he pushes it off his forehead. “Possibly at all for the next three weeks,” he continues and hears her breath catch as he moves even closer. His body hovers a moment away from hers as he stares down at her. His nose almost brushes hers as he starts to lean down. She stays almost completely still. Her head moves though to allow Harry access to where his mouth seems to be headed, the side of her neck.

“After today,” he whispers before smudging an open mouthed kiss just below her ear.

A small gasp escapes her at his hot breath and a searing kiss against her chilled skin. She feels his smirk on her skin as he continues down her neck, leaving spongy eager kisses down the column.

“Well, I don’t think that’s a problem,” she tries to remain composure, feeling the burn inside of her pitch back up. The fire had dulled from the kissing by the lake once they had swam, but here he was pressing into her once again. Suddenly more eager and forward than he had ever been. Her breathing is hard to regulate with his expert hands running along her naked sides below the water and his legs backing her into the edge of the pool while his lips make love to her neck.

“Oh?” Harry hums, moving a hand up to fiddle with a strap of her top, the wet nylon twisting easily and then he lets it snap back softly. Her arousal only grows from the tiny smack. “Not a problem, eh?” His lips travel down between her breasts and she gasps in anticipation.

“Won’t be able to make you feel this good anytime you want,” he breathes and then ghosts over her covered pebbled nipple.

“You’re a tease, Harry,” she grips at his shoulders that are hunched to allow him to kiss on her. Her eyes having the perfect view of his curved neck and spine, the skin an expanse of clear perfect flesh, no tattoos in sight from this angle. The little curls at the nape of his neck trickling with spare droplets as he sucks on her own skin.

“Hmm…” his lips travel back up to the underside of her jaw causing her to tilt her head back and her stimulated chest to press into Harry’s. A chuckle passes against her skin as he feels her two points press into him.

Then, suddenly, he pulls back and grips at the back of her head to make her look at him. His eyes are deep and dark as the day starts to wear on, the sun beginning to set off in the distance.

“Maybe I need to demonstrate just what you’ll be missing out on?” He tilts his head at his suggestion and the glimmer in his eyes shows that he knows exactly what he has to say to get his friend - and soon to be lover - riled up.

Her chest heaves once, longing for the warm touch of Harry’s lips again. “What are you getting at?”

“Wanna make you feel so good you’re begging me to call my family up and tell them to not bother coming because we won’t be leaving your bed for the next few weeks.”

A breathless laugh leaves her, in disbelief, but also in wanton need. Her desire for him grew tenfold in the last ten minutes. His last sentence leaves her itching with longing. For his touch as he promised it.

“Give me the best you got then,” she challenges, her conviction never wavering despite her needy state.

That little sentence is what sets Harry’s eyes ablaze and has him gripping her waist and picking her up and setting her on the edge of the pool.

A quick press of his lips against hers and a “wait here” before he’s pulling himself from the water and shuffling to grab one of the towels he had laid out. She watches him curiously, confused why he had just promised to ravage her but was pausing to towel off.

He comes back with the towel and lays it behind her.

“Harry, what are -”

A finger presses to her swollen lips as his other hand goes to her shoulder and lays her back.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

She nods, eyes wide and glassy as she stares up at him kneeling over her, his body between her bent knees. He leans down to press another kiss to her lips and then begins his decent.

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he whispers.

Down her throat that he had happily been sucking on. His lips ghost over her still hard nipples and his hot breath has her arching off the ground immediately. A whine leaving her lips when he mouths between her two breasts in the valley just above the tie of suit. His fingers dance around on her skin, playing with her swimsuit fabric and she wants to scream at him to just untie it and really touch her, but she refrains. He continues his assault down her body. His hands grip at her knees when his lips travel below her navel. Her breaths have grown more strained as he’s gotten closer and closer to her heat. The cold wet fabric that covered her was a poor substitute to what she wanted to rub against her.

“Please,” she begs in a sigh as Harry’s lips skip where she wants him, instead traveling to her upper inner thigh.

He spreads her legs wider with his arms and her back arches further, her body just about fully on display for Harry. His eyes flicker up to her face that was staring right back down at him, watching his every move.

The cheeky bottoms left little to the imagination and the ties on the sides were so enticing Harry’s fingers smoothed up her thighs and began to toy with them. His face now hovering over her clothed center. His breath fanning the flames of her arousal just below the cherry fabric.

“See,” he smirks, eyes back on her face, “I haven’t even touched you yet, but you’re already begging.

“You’re an ass,” she grits out, trying to not be bothered by how easily he has gotten her in this position.

He clicks his tongue and tugs experimentally at one of the bottoms ties, “S’not a very nice thing to say to the man who’s about to stick his tongue in ya’?”

She gasps and slaps at his right shoulder at his crudeness. “You’re dirty!”

“And you’re wet,” he says confidently, smirking up from between her legs.

His fingers finally tug the ties undone and pull the fabric away from her center. The red bikini bottom falls limply to the ground and Harry’s eyes train on her glistening mound. Wet with the pool water as well as her arousal. To add to the cool air ghosting over her newly exposed skin, Harry blows his own breath over her. She writhes at the sensation, she bites at her lip to hold back any possible moans.

He glances at her face again and settles one arm to be wrapped around her leg and pressing down on her left hip. His other hand snakes between his face and her body and lightly drags between her folds. She bucks her body again, completely in need of some friction after all of the build up and teasing of today. Every nerve down there was electrified at the possibility of Harry finally touching her like this.

His finger pulls back and a string of arousal clings to him, a testament to the filthy thoughts she had about her neighbour. Thoughts she had pushed away for so long until recently. Thoughts she only indulged in in the dead of night, when she was exhausted but her mind insisted on wandering to the green sharp eyes that might stare at her if he ever were to delve into her depths. Her hands would travel to where he was now and rub out a triumphant shake of her thighs and heaving chest all in hopes that maybe he would bring her to that euphoria himself one day. Well that day was today.

He filthily takes that finger into his mouth and grins.  “So wet,” he corrects.

His eyes disappear from view as he launches into his work. His drying curls flop over his forehead and tickle at her lower stomach slightly. He flattens his tongue and licks a strong stripe between her folds. The wet from her weeping hole spreads to her lips and around her clit as his finishes the lick with a little swirl. He uses his free hand to spread apart her lips a little more and takes the new angle to suck on the little puffy nub that is already throbbing. She gasps audibly when he pulls off of it with a squelching sound.

“Fuck,” he sighs and goes back to eating her out, happily pressing his tongue into her.

His hand on her hip travels to grope at one of her breasts and he deftly pulls at the top’s tie and grips onto her skin underneath the fabric. The strong grip mixed with his expert work between her thighs has her moaning loudly and her body writhing as he builds her up.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he rasps, thumb on her nipple flicking happily back and forth. “Scream it out,” he says into her quivering center, “Nobody around to hear you, be as loud as you want.”

She moans louder at his words, her hands gripping harder into his hair. The thought of this scene turns her on even more. In all honesty, if someone did hear them she’d kind of like it. If someone walked in and saw her stretched out next to the pool with their wet bodies writhing against each other in pleasure. Harry’s head buried between her thighs making her feel better than she ever has, her breasts falling out of their top as he massages them harshly.

“Taste so sweet,” he groans, lapping at her tight hole, the muscle contracting against his tongue’s invasion.

She liked how messy he got with it, not that she really had much coherent thoughts in this moment. But his hot tongue swiping up and down and back and forth over her glistening lips and sucking on her clit left her breathless. Her juices and his saliva were making a mess of her thighs and the towel below her. When Harry felt her getting closer he’d back off and pay attention to another part of her and then go back to sucking and nipping perfectly into her.

She was eventually stuttering out, “I’m going to cum, Harry.” Breathing becoming uneven as she was about to tip over the edge. He nods, sucking harder at her clit one last time before taking his tongue and pushing it in and out of her hole, one of his thumbs traveling to rub over her clit in quick succession.  

“Cum for me, dove,” he mumbles quickly before going back to making her feel good.

She grips her own nipple now with one hand and Harry’s hair with the other, her hips pushing up into Harry’s face over and over again. And then she’s hitting her climax and tipping over the edge, a moan ripping from her throat and freezing on her face as Harry eats her out through it. His tongue licking over her quivering pussy. His thumb rubbing comforting circles around her clit until she stopped shaking. Her breathing slowing down, eyes fluttering open eventually. They lazily stare at the man below her who’s lips and chin are slick with her juices as he grins up at her.

“Do you want me to call my mum now or wait until you’re fully back on earth,” he says slyly and kisses the inside of her thigh once more. Eyes lovingly staying on her pleasured out face.

“Seriously talking about your mom while you’re still between my thighs,” she breathes out, completely in disbelief. Harry and her had never gone that far before and it was life changing. He had been right, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t sure if she could go three weeks without that again.

He sits up and begins to gently pull back on her swim bottoms and tie them back up. She lays there watching him work.

“How about now?” He asks with a smirk, moving to sit beside her and help her sit up when her bottoms have been readjusted. The fabric against her newly sensitive area was definitely interesting, but she couldn’t care with Harry beside her. She ties off her top on her own, even though Harry gestured that he could do it.

“Shut up,” she laughs and takes a hand to caress at his cheek.

He nuzzles into her touch.

“You forget I’m staying in the cottage...separate from everyone else,” she winks at him.

“Think they’ll still be able to hear ya’ from in there, dove. You’re a loud one,” he bites the inside of his cheek as he teases her.

She huffs and drops her hand, “I was gonna return the favor, but now I don’t think so.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh and reach out to her face, he pulls her face close to his, bringing her eyes level with his. “I’m just teasing. Plus, you don’t need to return the favor, I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.”

A laugh bubbles from her lips at the thought of Harry wanting her as much as she wanted him and she pecks at his lips. She grimaces only a little, tasting herself on him still.

“We’ll just have to be sneaky,” she pulls back and rests her forehead against his.

“Yeah,” Harry breaths out. His breath hitches when he feels her hand begin to trail down his chest and fiddle with the hem of his shorts. Her eyes are trained on his, expressionless like she wasn’t beginning to palm his hardened length over his sticky swim shorts.

“I told you,” he musters, “You don’t have to.”

“But,” she rasps, finally. “I want to,” she licks her lips with determination, “Want to make you feel good, too.”

He hums as her soft fingers go back up to the hem of his shorts and he helps her pull them down as he gives a nod of approval to her watching eyes.

Her eyes widen when his length is finally revealed and its bright red tip stands tall and strong against Harry’s stomach, placing itself slightly just below one of the ferns. Harry watches her lick at her hand and then places it between his thighs, her body positioned right next to him. On her knees, she makes an experimental first pump, seeing how his body responded. Her eyes mainly watch his face and an open mouthed smirk twitches onto his face when he notices her gaze. She pumps him again, twisting her wrist this time and swiping at the precum leaking from his tip. A groan leaves Harry’s mouth at that and his stomach flexes, the skin beneath his many tattoos hardening.

“Feel good?” She inquires.

“Great,” he breathes out as she leans forward on her knees and attaches her mouth over his head.

She slowly moves her head down and attempts to fit his entire length into her mouth, but despite her best efforts, she can’t quite get her throat to open up for his entirety yet. After holding him there for a moment, his head scratching at the back of her throat, she pulls off. Heaving a sigh and continuing to work him with her hand, her now glassy eyes look at him. Saliva gathers at her mouth and Harry can’t help himself but reach one of his hands from behind him to her lips. He swipes at it and presses the wet to her lips which she sucks at eagerly, a whine hidden beneath the action.

When his hand pulls away she says, “You’re quite girthy.”

“Girthy?” He sputters, both at the funny comment but also that she’s said it while still jacking him off.

“Mhmm,” she nods seriously, “Couldn’t get you all in.”

“That’s alright,” he starts, but falters on a specifically masterful tug. She grins, knowing what she's doing to him. “You seem to excel, no matter the setbacks.”

“I’ll get it eventually,” she begins to speed up her strokes, “Just need a bit of practice.”

Then her lips are pressing back onto Harry’s prick. She sucks solely at his head and Harry moans out as he gets more sensitive. Then she slides down further and bops her head vigorously. She wants Harry to come undone for her just like she had for him. Make him feel like she had moments ago. And within a few more minutes of enthusiastic sucking and pumping of her hands, even some fondling of his balls which Harry had been extremely receptive to, she has him stuttering beneath her.

One hand gripping at her hair, while the other keeps him upright, Harry’s head is thrown back on his shoulders as he tries to keep his eyes open and trained on the girl taking him so well down her lovely little throat.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart,” he pants, his hips bucking up once as he begins to lose control.

This only spurs her forward, spit drooling down his cock every time she pulls back from his slightly. Her ass is high in the air now as she arches over his length, trying to get him to unload.

“Taking me so well,” Harry praises. “Fuck,” he exclaims at another squeeze of his balls.

She swirls her tongue around his runny head and then hollows her cheeks and sucks on him with everything she’s got. This has Harry cursing and repeating her name, his load spurting into her mouth as she stays still. His chest now covered in beads of sweat as he tries to catch his breath after tipping over the edge himself. His eyes are trained on her. She keeps her lips diligently around his cock, wanting to swallow everything he’s just expended. When he’s done, she pulls back and sits on her legs, swallowing quickly and staring at Harry as she does it.

His eyes bug at the sight. She was the hottest woman in the world and she’d just sucked him off so well that he’s pretty sure he saw stars. Then she made eye contact as she swallowed his cum with her pretty little bikini barely covering her anymore, as she seemed to shift slightly uncomfortable in her drying bottoms. God, he was fucked.

“Shit,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re an absolute angel.”

-

Harry’s family arrives the next day and the pair have a hard time keeping their hands off of each other. She doesn’t know why they decide to start this little game where they pretend like they don’t want to jump each other’s bones each minute of the day. But as the days go by, they maintain to his family and chosen family that they are only neighbours who became friends. Anne gives a knowing look to Gemma every so often and Gemma’s boyfriend whispers in her ear sometimes, but for the most part they buy it.

No one notices that some nights Harry’s or Y/N’s beds are vacant sometimes. They don’t see him descend his spiral staircase at midnight or see her scamper next to the pool and slip into her cottage in the wee hours of the morning.

In the nights, it’s Harry’s soft lips pressed against her hot skin, panting praise and leaving little bite marks that can’t be seen with clothes on. Her lips mouth at his shoulder when fills her up and she exhales a breath that feels like she’s been waiting to let go for her entire life. They make each other feel good and they don’t talk about it but the secrecy of it makes it all the more enticing.

At least that’s what she thinks. Harry had been completely ready to tell his family about him and Y/N, at least that things were new between them, but when she introduced herself to his mum and Gemma she had said she was a friend. Harry had gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing hard, taking in the change of direction and agreeing with Y/N immediately. “Just a friend” he confirmed with a nod of his head and glance at her. She had smiled wide and given a hug to the other most important women in his life like she’d known them forever.

He didn’t understand why she wanted it this way, but his objections would be forgotten when night fell and she’d do the things he’d only dreamt of. Her breathy whimpers and pliant body would all but wipe his mind of any other thoughts but her and then he had no complaints, just a wish for the night to never end.

Y/N doesn’t even tell Cate when she calls her a week into the trip. It’s just something she wants to keep to herself and Harry. Their own private world.

It’s Christmas Eve when that bubble pops. The Champagne has been flowing for hours non stop - well only stopping when a different drink is in their hands, whether that be red or white wine or a mixed drink Harry has decided to concoct.

In the big Italian house, he’s free of prying eyes and he’s able to truly spend quality time with his loved ones. They have fancy dinners at private restaurants, go on gorgeous hikes, swim, and relax. They have a good time with playing holiday games, which they do most nights when they stay in.

Tonight’s the first night that Harry and Y/N haven’t ended up on the same team. He fears that most times he cheats it by swapping a paper or two, but tonight the alcohol has fizzed his brain and he forgot. This shouldn’t be a problem, not really. Except that everyone in the house has learned over the past week and a half that besides being perfectly matched in almost everything else, Harry and her are both equally and extremely competitive. Being on the same team has both advantages and avoids squabbles like the one the house has found themselves in at half past 11.

Harry’s arguing that his team got the last question before the buzzer went off, but she won’t back down. She is sure that Gemma had said the correct answer, but after the timer had run out. Everyone else was too sauced to care, but Harry and her were adamant and passionate about game play. As the argument heats up, Anne gives Gemma another one of those looks.

Y/N has stood up and crossed the short distance to Harry. She’s a breath away from him and he puffs up his chest, his eyes dark and serious as he’s ready to fight for this win all night.

“The time was out,” she says simply, but her eyes are beginning to glower.

“No. It was not.” He states back.

His eyes narrow at her as she stares right back at him.

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

They go back and forth, rapid fire as the alcohol in their veins flows straight to their mind and hearts.

“Children please!” Gemma exclaims,  finally growing tired of the bickering. “It’s Christmas. Harry show some spirit and let your guest have the final say.”

They think she’s done but then adds, “Or else she might never want to come back here.”

Harry exhales harshly through his nose as his gaze flickers to his older sister and listens to her scolding. Handing over the timer to Y/N, which had been what kept them from moving on, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

“Oh gosh,” Y/N says after a moment, her frazzled mind processing that Harry’s leaving has something to do with her. A hand goes to her lips for a moment, a ghost of his warm breath still there, but gone too soon.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she confirms and exits the room, following Harry’s footsteps.

She finds him on his front porch step, his breath misting in the cold air, much like it would back in London when they’d walk the neighbourhood streets together.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she says, placing a hand on his left shoulder to really get his attention.

He turns from looking out at the clear night sky, his nose and cheeks already pinkened from the night breeze. His eyes are still dark out here, but there’s no malice or anger behind them. His lips tilt up on one side for a forgiving half smile, but there’s also some pain mixed in there.

“You wouldn’t not come back, right?” He asks helplessly, his smile faltering.

She swallows, taken aback by the question, both unsure of where it came from but also how exactly her drunk brain was supposed to respond with the double negatives.

“I’d come back next Christmas and the Christmas after that, Harry,” she whispers, “If you wanted me to of course.”

“Of course I’d want you to. I want you, sweetheart. All the time.” His voice isn’t slurred, but it’s raspy, a slight dry mouth from all the alcohol consumed tonight.

“Okay,” she confirms, “Then I’ll come back.”

They stand on the porch silently for a few minutes, eyes on one another, but no movement towards anything. It’s not a profound moment for their hazy minds, despite the meaning behind their words. It’s not quite clicking for them, but maybe tomorrow when they wake up with massive headaches it will register.

“I really am sorry,” she repeats when she sees little goosebumps begin to prick at his skin.

He had forgotten a jacket. And while his drunk blanket makes him immune to the feelings, her brain still registers that she doesn’t want him to get sick.

“S’alright. For what it’s worth, I was being a little childish. So, m’sorry too.” He says sincerely, maybe a little slurring of words slipping in.

He reaches a hand out of his pocket to touch at her upper arm. She can feel his warmth from beneath her thin long sleeve. They smile at one another and turn to reenter the house, feeling the giggly tide of alcohol wash over them again. Euphoria on their mind rather than family game malice.

Just as they’re about to open the door to the house. The two of them at the precipice of a house, a place they often find themselves, Gemma swings it open face and with little care for its heaviness. She glances between her brother and his “friend”  and then up to the top of the door.

The top of the door? Why was she looking at the top of the door? Mistletoe.

“Mistletoe!” Gemma exclaims, pointing between the two of them. “You’re beneath the mistletoe, go on!”

Harry shakes his head in protest, falling onto the sword of friendship again. But then Y/N is grabbing at the back of Harry’s neck and pressing her lips to his. It’s a little sloppy, but Harry can’t help but enjoy the taste of her against him. They slot together like they usually do, but this time his sister is watching them, which is a little odd, but his muddled mind quickly forgets that fact. Her tongue is the deciding factor as it licks into his mouth and he licks back, pulling her closer by the waist. They get lost in the kiss and only pull apart when they hear a cough.

Gemma is now accompanied by the rest of the household watching them in disbelief. Everyone’s eyebrows are raised and even Rori is standing with the group, confused that the humans didn’t know they were doing this.

“Erm…” Harry has no idea what to say, shifting to face his family more fully.

Y/N blushes and shrinks into Harry’s chest, feeling like a teenager caught in the closet with her crush.

“That’s not how friend’s kiss one another,” someone murmurs.

There’s a few “I knew it”s mixed in as well with the rest of the chatter.

“Well…” She finally musters and throws a hand out to her side in a ta-da motion,

“Happy Christmas!”

-

After the revelation on Christmas Eve, everyone won’t stop teasing Harry and Y/N. The two laugh it off but something always nags at the back of their head. What they were to the other person. The status of this relationship. This friendship that had taken a turn to something else entirely.

It’s another Eve of a holiday when Harry finally musters up the courage to ask her directly. They learned from Christmas day that they couldn’t drink as much as they once did for multiple reasons. So on New Year’s Eve, they both choose to only consume a couple glasses of Champagne.

It starts with “Can we talk about us?” right after midnight. Right after Harry’s just started the New Year with her lips on his. She hears his question and takes it in, her stomach twisting with nerves and possibly excitement as well, and nods.

They slink off to his bedroom, but not for the activity everyone else was certain they were engaging in.

He sits them on the edge of the bed, both her hands clasped in one of his. He’s been quiet all day, she just realizes as he stays silent another moment longer.

“I love you,” he says in his dimly lit room.

Her jaw drops slightly, not quite expecting those three words yet.

“You don’t, don’t have to say anything yet. I just wanted you to know that,” he continues. “And that I want to be with you.”

“Harry,” she starts, breathless at his words.

“No,” he stops her again, “I felt something draw me to you the day you moved in across from me on Sherwood, like I was meant to know you or something.  Then I met you and you made me feel so comfortable, all I wanted to do was be with you and that month when you didn’t really talk to me...dove, those weeks were wretched. But when I came back, it was like nothing happened and I was so happy because I couldn’t fathom life going back to the way it was before you. When we kissed, I felt overjoyed, I was so happy that you liked me like that because every time you called me friend...felt like a knife in me. I don’t want to be just your friend,” he pauses to say her name again, “I don’t want to be just your lover, I want to be your boyfriend or whatever they call it now - If you’ll have me.”

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the little well up of water that had grown in his eyes. He had forgotten to blink for a moment he realized.

His stare had been intense as he’d confessed all of his feelings to her, but she didn’t feel intimidated, his gaze had warmed her with its sincerity. It had strengthened his confession.

She sighed, her own eyes not as strong as his, unable to hold his gaze as she herself said her own confession.

His hand rests between them on the bed, steadying himself upright with it. She places her own hand over it and their fingers slightly intertwine. She feels him begin to fiddle with her fingers like usual. Like normal.

“Thank you,” she starts, “Of course I’ll have you. All the time, Harry.”  She repeats his words from Christmas Eve back to him.

He starts to interject, the rambling thing, but she tugs at his pointer finger and he takes it as a sign to be quiet.

“I want to be your partner, too. I want it all with you, lover,” she gazes at him now, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek in that moment. “Want it all,” she repeats in a whisper before he’s kissing her again.

Kissing her and kissing her. Over and over again. Because she was his. And he was hers. And it was a happy beginning. A happy new year and a happy new beginning of a relationship that was bound in friendship, born out of proximity, and nurtured by two kindred souls.

And it all started with her parents making her take her dog. Harry really needed to thank that dog for being the best wing man to ever run around on four legs.

-

Who knows who that new client of Y/N’s might be...

Light the Lamp: Chapter 1

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader (Friends to Lovers, College/Hockey AU

Rating: M

Words: 2.2K

Warnings:  College kids being college kids, drinking, swearing, talk of sex(No smut yet but will be)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary:  Love and Hockey were kind of the same, everyone’s just rushing to score. So why couldn’t you?

A.N Summary bad but I literally couldn’t focus on writing anything else until I finished at least the first chapter of this. let me know what you think, Message/reply/inbox to be tagged.

  Chapter 1: 1st Quarter

Hockey wasn’t the sport Bucky wanted to play originally. He wanted to play baseball like his old man but when Steve decided he wanted to take ice skating lessons, he made Bucky tag along so he wouldn’t be the only boy in the class. Soon, they found themselves recruited in the junior rec hockey team and had been playing together ever since. It wasn’t a surprise that when recruitment came around that school’s were trying to pick up both of them. People knew better than to separate Cap from the Winter Soldier. Steve’s nickname was easy to figure out. He had a natural authoritative nature that made him the Captain of almost every team he played on. You never knew why they called Bucky the Winter Soldier until you played against him. Bucky was like an assassin on the ice. While everyone was focused on Steve in Center, Bucky was on left wing scoring the goal before you knew what hit you. So both of them getting recruited to play for the Avengers at Wilmington University wasn’t surprising. 

Meeting you was. 

At first, it was a sort of form of hazing. When they were starting their Freshman year so was the Coach’s daughter. He had asked senior members of the team to ‘keep an eye on her’ and make sure she didn’t get herself into any trouble. The seniors’ thinking that was lame, were more than happy to pass the task off to the two eager freshmen trying to make a name for themselves. So that’s how it started, The two boys walking you to classes and home from the library late at night, much to your demise. 

“I should’ve known my dad was going to do something like this.” You complained when you saw the two boys waiting outside your dorm the first week of classes. “Thanks for coming. But you can tell my dad that I’m not going to be the freak being escorted by hockey jocks everyday.” 

“No can do, Doll.” Bucky says. “We leave you, we’re doing drills the rest of practice.” 

“Doll? What’re you? A 40s newscaster?” You say, with an annoyed expression walking passed the boys who just followed suit behind you. “Ugh, this is such bullshit. He literally begged me to go to Wilmington and promised I’d be able to have a ‘normal college experience’. What about this is fucking normal?”  

“I know it’s less than ideal but hey, we can make the best out of this.” Steve smiles. “I’m Steve, by the way.” He says extending a hand. 

You shake it. You couldn’t blame them for your dad not trusting you. “Y/N. You?” You asked the other boy next to you. 

“Bucky.” He provides. 

“Bucky?” You question. 

“Well, it’s James but my friends call me Bucky.” 

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” You ask. 

“Might as well be, since we’ll be seeing each other a lot this semester.” 

And that’s how your semi-unconventional friendship started. Pretty soon, even though your dad had eased up on the 24-hour watch, per your mom's request, you still found yourself walking and getting coffee with the two in the mornings. Even, found yourself waiting in the rinks watching practices so you could hang out afterwards and that became your life for the next two years. Now the three of you we’re entering your Junior year of college. Steve was right back in his title role of Captain, Bucky was now first string Left Wing and you were… still watching from the bleachers. You didn’t mind though, you grew to love the sport due to it being your dad’s profession. Hell, you were on skates before you could even walk. But you never found yourself on the women’s team, Hockey wasn’t something you really wanted to do. You still supported the girls team though, which is why you found yourself watching their practices too. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Carol said, skating to the end of the rink where you were sitting next to her girlfriend, Maria. A position you often found yourself in, entertaining player’s girlfriends while they practiced. Maria was cool though, at least you knew about the sport. 

“Hey, Marvel.” You called her by her nickname. Thing about Hockey is everyone was called by their nicknames. 

“You going to the Sigma Pi party later?” She asks. 

“Uh, no one told me about it.” You say, awkwardly. 

“I’m telling you now.” Carol says like it's obvious. “You never go out anymore and I refuse to let you become a cat lady before you turn 25. Come over ours at 7, we’ll pregame and head over at 9. What do you say?” 

“Fine, I’ll come.” You say. 

“Great!” Carol says, pumping a fist before signalling her girlfriend to come closer to the rink. You look away as they kiss. Couples made you uneasy, especially hockey couples. You wanted that more than anything, for your guy to skate up to the gate just to sneak a kiss from you. Not that dating anyone from the team was even an option with you dad coaching. The team saw you as a little sister and if anyone was caught even looking at you in any way, their ass was grass by either your dad or Bucky, who’d become protective of you over the years. 

“Marvel, stop flirting with your girlfriend and GET BACK ON THE ICE!” You heard your dad scream. 

“Sorry, Couch!” She called. “Sorry, baby i’ve gotta jet. Y/N, don’t forget. 7 o’clock!” She says before skating off. 

“I won’t!” You call after her. 

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

You can’t help but look at yourself in the mirror awkwardly at the tight Satin dress your roommate, Wanda practically forced you in. You were just going to wear a sweater and jeans, your regular wardrobe but Wanda insisted everyone had seen you in that and what they haven’t seen is you in a dress. Especially, with your new body, you had gotten over the summer working at a sports camp. Who knew running after kids would be such a great form of exercise? 

Wanda also did your makeup, something you didn’t typically wear, giving you a natural glow eye, a layer of mascara, and sticky gloss that made your look ‘dewy’ as Wanda described it. You tried to keep your hair in the bun but Wanda insisted you keep your hair down. Saying it made you look hotter, you shrugged knowing you’d have to take her word for it. 

The two of you made your way to Carol and Maria’s apartment. Carol swung the door open and looked at you in surprise. “Woah, Ice Baby, you clean up nice.” 

“Don’t start, Marvel. And you know how I feel about being called that.” You hated the nickname but since you were the coach’s daughter and you stuck around the rink any chance you got, The seniors had started calling you Ice Baby your freshman year and the nickname unfortunately stuck long after they had gone. 

“Right, sorry, I always forget.” Carol said moving out the way for the two of you to come in. 

The four of you drink and play games until it’s time to head to the party. You’ve got a pretty strong buzz going as you enter the party and you regret the strappy heels Maria made you borrow before leaving. You’re sitting in the corner when someone comes to sit way too close to you. You look up to see Brock Rumlow, or Rum as the team liked to call him. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Ice Baby. You look good.” 

“My name is Y/N but thank you.” You say, annoyed. 

He holds his hands up in mock surrender “I forgot you hate that nickname. Let me bring you a drink to make up for it. What you want.” 

“Rum and coke, please.” 

“Oh, so you like Rum?” He says, obvious double entendre hanging off his tongue. 

“The drink? Yes.” 

“You’ll like the man soon enough.” He winks, smirking at the flush that spreads across your cheeks. 

The two of you spend the night like that. He brings you drinks and shamelessly flirts with you as you get drunker and drunker. The two of you even dance for a bit in the sea of grinding bodies. Soon you’re telling him a story and a hand drifts to your leg. You turn and he’s much closer to your face than you thought he was. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks. You nod but before you can even stand, Bucky is there towering over Brock.

“You can leave, Brock. But I’m taking Y/N home.” He says. 

Brock rolls his eyes. “Forgot you had a Winter Soldier guard dog. No worries, dude. I’m leaving anyway.” He says, before turning to you. “You’ve got my number, call me if you wanna hang this week.” He says, nodding to Bucky before walking away. 

“Ugh, Bucky. What was that for?” You whine, drunkenly. 

“You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.” Bucky says. “Come on, stand up.” 

You shakingly get up and Buck is there immediately under your arm, his arm around your waist helping you walk out. 

The cold breeze hits you as soon as you step foot out the party and take the long trek home. 

“I think I drank too much.” You point out. 

“You think, kid?” Bucky says. “You’re lucky, I was here meeting Sharon otherwise you would’ve been shit out of luck.” 

“Brock would’ve taken me home.” 

“Brock’s a lowlife. Don’t worry about him, I’ve got you.” 

You sigh. “Sorry for ruining your night with your girlfriend.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call her when I make sure you get home so if you could pick up the pace.” 

“My feet hurt.” You complain. 

“Yea, I bet. God, when did you start wearing heels, Doll?” 

“I wanted to look good tonight.” You sigh. 

“You always look good.” 

“Fine, I wanted to look hot.” You provide. “For once, I wanted to be the one guys paid attention to at parties.” 

“You can be yourself for that, Y/N.” Bucky says. “You’re a catch.” 

“If I was, someone would’ve fucked me by now.” You drunkenly admit. That makes Bucky double-take. “I mean, think about it? 3 years into my college career, I turn 21 in a couple months and still it's where no man’s gone before down there.” 

“Y/N, are you saying you’re--” 

“A virgin? Yea, Bucky catch up.” You groan at the pain in your feet. Bucky looks and takes sympathy on you. 

“Here take off your shoes.” He says, toeing his off as well and sliding them over to you. 

“You’re just going to walk barefoot?” You ask, putting on the shoes, holding your heels in your hand. 

“Better than you walking barefoot.” He shrugs. 

“Anyway, I decided over the summer that maybe I was putting too much thought into it. I mean almost everyone loses their virginity in high school and it's never good, no one ever says their first time was good. I just thought maybe I should just, you know, get it over with.” You slur. “Which is what I was trying to do until you chased my date away. God, you always do that, Bucky.” 

“I’m not fighting with you while you’re drunk.” Bucky says, trying to get you to drop the subject but you persist. 

“Every time I try to talk to a guy, you butt in--” 

“Maybe I wouldn’t butt in if you picked the right guys for you.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the guys I pick! You’re just a cockblock.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Yea what about Charles? He asked me on a date freshman year and took it back not even an hour later. I had to beg Steve to tell me why and it turned out that you threatened him if he even thought about going out with me.” 

“Y/N, you had just turned 18 and X was a 24 year old senior! I didn’t trust how he was just waiting. So yea, I told him to fuck off. And Rum is an asshole who can’t get a girl to sleep with him unless they’re shitfaced. So yea, I told him to fuck off.” Bucky exclaims as the two of you make it up the stairs to your apartment. “Y/N, you’ll find someone right for you and that right person will make your first time special. I just want you to find someone who’ll make you happy.” 

“And I just want you to remember for next time that if you want to tell a girl who she can and can’t fuck, you have Sharon for that. Not me.” You said, taking off the shoes as you arrived at your front door. 

“Y/N, wait--” You hear him say but you don’t care, you slam the door in his face regardless. 

Who did Bucky think he was? Sure, he was your best friend but so was Steve and he’s not nearly as protective as Bucky was. You honestly couldn’t tell who was worse at this point, your dad or Bucky. You loved both of them but they had the fatal flaw of forgetting you weren’t a kid. You were a woman, a woman with needs. And one particular need you needed to get rid of.   

So you picked up your phone and called Brock. Bucky couldn’t be right about everything.

Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @riverofcrestmont @babymango-writes @astralsaf @gabi-socio @hereforalongtime512​

In Hiding Part 4/?

Hey loves! Sorry it took so long for me to write part 4, I’ve had school and band. I like this chapter, so I hope you do too!

Word count: 1566

Warnings: Really un graphic violence, mentions of undiagnosed PTSD, OCD, and depression, and my inability to write good endings

The last 30 minutes on the Quinjet were pure hell. Tony kept trying to grill you, and you didn’t respond, which motivated him to ask even more questions.

Finally, he rolled his eyes and asked, “Where are your parents?”

Hundreds of locked-away memories flooded your mind. Your parents had sold you to HYDRA at age 5. You didn't know much about your parents or their identities.

After he asked about your parents, you broke eye contact and looked anywhere but into someone's eyes.

“I see.” Tony scowled but continued asking more questions, but you weren't in the mood, even more now than before.

You eventually drifted off into a daydream as Tony’s questions slurred together. You dreamt about what your life could've been if you had parents and weren't mutant. You could still have parents; you wouldn't have sustained all of that torture at HYDRA, and you would've gotten to go to school!

School, something many take for granted. You didn't have any higher education, and being 15 and more innovative and 99.99% of the world, it was a moot point. Still, being among everyday people, having friends, and discovering your passions, would be amazing.

Snaps in your face brought you back, courtesy of Tony.

“Kid. Kid! Hello?” He snapped in your face.

You had returned to Earth and- hey, look at that! Tony is within head butting distance. Maybe it'd get him to shut up, or would Loki attack again? He was staring at you from the back of the jet, unmoving, eyes trying to predict your following movements.

“KID!” Tony shouted.

You'd had enough of hearing him in your face, so you turned back to him, made eye contact, and-

“Don’t do that, girl.” Loki snarled from his seat.

Tony turned to him and cocked his head.

“She was going to headbutt you, obviously. Don't get within 5 feet of her.”

Tony thanked him quietly and sat in his seat, glaring at you. You made eye contact with him once more, and you smirked.

The rest of the ride was quiet, save for a few tiny pockets of conversation and Tony coming up with more dumb questions, which you elected to ignore.

——————————

You had finally reached the compound, and all you could think about was your impending doom.

Steve picked you up again, as your restraints render you immobile. You fell limp in his arms, head dangling. You were so tired and so worried.

Steve carried you into the compound and to a room, or rather, a cell. The space was empty except for a cot in the corner and a sink. The wall next to the door sported a one-way mirror.

“You’ll stay in here; Stark wants to ask you more questions; he’ll be in here soon.” He put you down on the floor, and you looked up to him. He uncuffed you and swiftly ran out in fear of you trying to bolt again.

Little did you know, he and many of the other team members were staring at you from the other side of the glass, observing you in attempts to understand how you worked and your erotic behavior.

The room was made of something that made you powerless, and the walls were a blinding white. There weren’t any windows, and a single notepad and pencil lay on the bed.

You sat in the center of the room for 5 minutes, staying stationary. Once more, scenarios of what the Avengers might do to you crowded your mind. Tears came again, and you sobbed quietly. Everything hurt, and you were once again reminded that you'd been awake for almost 24 hours. So you carefully laid yourself out on the ground, being mindful of your bruises, and cried there.

—————Avengers POV—————

“So- uh- what do we do now?” Steve pointed to you, still crying on the floor.

“Poor thing,” Wanda remarked, frowning.

“Poor thing? She may be a child, but she's evil!” Tony scoffed.

“She could be a beneficial asset to the team,” Nat suggested.

“I don’t trust her.” Tony crossed his arms and looked back to your shaking figure.

“Tony, I kinda volunteered to go talk to her.” Steve turns back to him. “She's got a notepad, and if she doesn’t open up, we’ll send someone else in.”

“Why the hell did you volunteer me? Kid hates me; it's obvious.”

“Just go see if you can get anything out of her, Tony,” Natasha ordered.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes, stepping into your cell.

—————Your POV—————

Tony Stark stepped into your cell, the door shut with a loud ‘thud.’ His intentions were unclear, so you backed into a corner. He crouched in front of you and looked into your puffy, red eyes.

Now that the two of you weren't fighting, he noticed how truly young you were; you still had that childlike glimmer in your bright blue eyes. You had been turned into a villain, but it wasn’t your fault.

“Hey, kid.”

You didn’t respond, just blinked. He grabbed the notepad and pencil on the bed.

“Since we haven’t heard you speak, we put this here for you to write on. Do you know how to write?”

Of course, you knew how to write. You stared at Stark, annoyed that he thought you couldn’t write, and slowly nodded your head.

He handed you the notepad and pencil and asked your name, which he knew. He was trying to create a sense of normalcy for you.

“(Y/N)” You wrote.

“You have great handwriting and a beautiful name (Y/N).” He said, reaching for your hand.

You winced when Tony touched you and quickly brushed him off.

“Understood.” Tony moved back and asked you, “Did HYDRA give you your powers?”

“I don’t think so. I was young. I don’t know.” You wrote. You did know, however. You were born with powers, and that’s why your parents sold you. You were too much to handle, and many people were willing to pay hefty prices for you.

You weren’t fond of visiting HYDRA memories, let alone talking about them. Memories of being tortured plagued your dreams every night, and it seems that HYDRA had found a way to torture you even after you escaped.

Often loud noises would bring back memories, as would needles and human contact.

“I want my clothes back.” You wrote. You thought they might bring some semblance of home, a piece of you to hold, and you’d be able to smell your apartment and yourself.

Tony nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Do you need anything else?”

You shook your head and wrote, “Please leave now. And don’t stare at me from the window. It's creepy.”

Tony chuckled. “Ok, Banner is going to come to check on you at some point.”

You nodded and waved your hand towards the door, signaling him to leave.

Tony slowly got up, and you stared silently as he left the cell. Before he shut the door, he looked back to you, stationary on the floor, staring up at him. Once he was gone, you stared into the mirror, not at yourself but any unsuspecting souls behind it.

Once you thought the sufficient amount of staring was reached, you got up and went to the bed at the far corner of your cell. It was perpendicular to the door, so you could see if anyone entered and be ready to defend yourself.

–—————————

It must've been an hour or so until Banner walked into your cell. You jumped up from the bed and pushed yourself into a corner. He frowned and set down what he was carrying, which was a tray of food and your clothing.

He stepped away from said items, and you scrambled to grab them, scared he’d take them back. You backed yourself into your corner once more, shielding yourself with your clothing.

“Hey, (Y/N). Remember me?”

You scowled. You remembered him, and you weren't very fond of the memories you shared with him.

You didn't move, eyes still trained on him. He kneeled about 5 feet away from you, not wanting to startle you.

His voice was low and soft when he asked, “Can I come closer?”

You stared, not knowing how to answer. Would Bruce hurt you again? Could you trust him? It didn’t look like he was holding anything more to hurt you. You allowed yourself to creep closer, slowly inching towards him.

“See, baby steps.” He looked towards the window. You assumed some people were still watching the two of you.

You let yourself come closer, until you were about a foot away from him.

“Can I touch your hand?” He reached out and touched you, but you winced and pulled your hand away. You still didn’t trust him, you would need a whole lot more prof before letting him, or anyone for that matter, touch you.

“Ok, I’m going to go now, get some sleep.” He stood and turned away from you, heading to the exit.

He stepped out, and turned off the lights in your room. It was almost pitch black, except for a dim light coming through the window. You climbed into the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. You were exhausted, but sleep refused to come.

It must have been 45 minutes when you finally drifted off to a restless sleep. You dreamt about what would meet you in the morning.

Tag list: @sweetpeaflower01 @kinny-away @mangobangi @cumulonimbus34 @oakiedokie @moonbaejpeg @coollemonsaresour @screechingshepherddeputygoth @trinity-1002107 @padmoonyfeorge @laurenced1l @vaaalexandra

the lovers

reversed (prequel)

chapter two: ten of cups

miya atsumu x f!reader

description: the lovers card was a blessing in tarot if pulled up right, with the meaning of true love, prosperity and unity. however, if pulled in reversed, it signified disappointment, foolishness and failure. if he was destined to be your soulmate, why was his presence accompanied by chaos and destruction? if miya atsumu was your fatal flaw, how could he possibly be your fate?

genre: soulmate au, 18+, angst, enimes-to-lovers

cw: family issues, mentions of death, grammar errors

a/n: SO excited to write the next chp!! feedback & reblogs are truly appreciated<3 (wc: 4.4k)

prequel masterlist ♕ chp three

From the outside, the Miya’s were a very well-known family with a prestigious family. Miya Kaito was a well-known businessman in Japan who took over his father’s Marketing company. Miya Izumi, the twins’ mother was much lesser known than their father but was still in the public eye. She was an author of a best-selling novel who lived in Sendai but moved to Kasai when she married Kaito. They had two twin sons who excelled in volleyball and were sure to go professional straight after high school.

They were picture-perfect. But to your eyes, they were everything but.

Atsumu’s prediction of his father's absence at dinner two weeks ago had turned out to be correct. You, Osamu and his mother had waited at the table for almost 40 minutes before coming to the conclusion that once again, he was not coming home.

The lavish mansion was a veil for a broken home.

A father who worked more than he saw his family, a mother who went on trips weekly to resorts to escape her life and two children who had to suffer at the hands of their parents’ actions.

You couldn’t help but think of their family dynamic as you were in the kitchen scouring through the fridge for breakfast, a day before your 18th birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Miya weren’t soulmates but they seemed like they didn’t even like each other. It seemed like their public reputation was the only thing keeping them together.

That was the last thing that you wanted with your soulmate. You were less than 24 hours away from turning eighteen and you couldn’t help but think about who they might be.

Do they live in the Huygo prefecture? Are they the same age as you? Are they kind? A romantic? Were they just as excited to know your identity? Would we have a physical or emotional connection?

Questions like these ran through your mind ever since you woke up.

Usually, your breakfasts were something solid to fuel you for the rest of the day, but you were so nervous for tomorrow that you could barely keep anything down. You decide that some fruit would be enough for now. You stack clear contains which green grapes, strawberries and cherries in one arm as you use your free one to close the fridge door.

Maybe they’re in California? You’d meet them there when studying for school perhaps?

The questions continued to flow as you sat down at the counter in the kitchen on a bar stool as you munched on the grapes. You were so wrapped up in your questions that you barely even noticed that someone had walked in.

You almost choke on the grape when you realize who she was. It was the same girl who was making out with Atsumu in the cafeteria two weeks ago. She also must have been the owner of those over-exaggerated moans that still made you sick to your stomach.

Even though you took a while to acknowledge her, she still hadn’t noticed you. Confused laced your eyes are you stare at her half-naked figure opening the fridge in front of you. The only thing covering her was a large white button shirt with two buttons together at her chest, which you assumed was Atsumu’s.

As you were studying her in slight disgust, she finally noticed your presence.

“Oh hi, I’m Yui,” she said as she tucked her dirty blonde hair behind her hair.

“Yeah, I know, we’re in the same calculus class,” you say before you place mother grape in your mouth. Judging by her reaction to your words, she hadn’t even acknowledged you, but you couldn’t care less.

She stood there in a slight shock before hesitantly speaking again.

“So, are you dating ‘Samu?” she asked as she leaned her body on the side of the fridge door. Her words caused you to choke on the grape that laid on your tongue.

“Samu? No!” You manage to squeak out between your violent coughs. “He’s just my friend”

She seems to be confused by your statement. You never had thought about Osamu in that way and you weren’t sure why she would think that.

“Well, then why are you around here all the time?” Now it was your turn to look confused at her words.

“Excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow as you reply.

“You were the one who knocked on Atsumu’s door, right? The one he called princess?” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her half-exposed chest.

Ah, now you understood. Was she jealous?

“Yeah, I was.” your tone changes as your patience was slowly seeping through your fingers like grains of sand.

She nodded her head before stepping closer to the opposite of the table. “‘Tsumu’s mine, so don’t come around here anymore if it's for him.” she spits out with a grin as if she had accomplished something.

You take a moment to respond to her. In one swift movement, you stand from your stool and start to close the container of grapes in front of you.

“One, I live here, I’ve been living here since I was 6,” you said as you snapped the containers louder than you usually did. “Two, the last thing I want is to be around Atsumu.”

You gather the containers and make your way in front of Yui. She said nothing as she stood and watched you place the fruits back into its assigned tray.

“And three, he’s not yours. You’ll be gone by the end of the week, sweetheart.” that was the last thing you said to her as you exited the kitchen. You didn’t stick around the see her jaw hang slack, appalled at the words that came out of your mouth.

You knew she attacked you because of Atsumu but was she that oblivious that she couldn’t see what laid between the two of you?

pure annoyance and animosity

“The audacity!” Stephanie exclaimed as you retold the events from this morning as you two sat outside the school waiting for the boys' volleyball practice to conclude.

“I don’t even want to think about it anymore, it gives me a headache.” you shook your head to the side as you try to forget the whole meeting. “Thanks again for giving me a ride today too, Steph.”

Your usual ride had to stay later than usual to make up his missed chemistry test and you rather walk the 30 mins than ask Atsumu to join him home. Stephanie was more than happy to drive you home after akaashi came out from practice. Because of Mara’s feelings for Atsumu, you never felt comfortable discussing him with her. You didn’t want her to feel bad for liking someone she despised. One can not control whom they love, so you spared her feelings and confided in Stephanie when it came to Atsumu.

“Don’t mention it!” she said as a smile pulled at her lips. “You excited for tomorrow? Finally going to be 18 and find your person!”

Your birthday completely slipped your mind as you focused on the Yui situation.

“I’m so nervous! hopefully, I can find him,” you said as you looked down at your hands. Stephanie could recognize your worry and placed her hand on your shoulder.

“Try not to worry y/n. You’ll find them. I remember the same feeling right before my birthday. The anxiety was eating at my soul but, in the end, everything was perfect. It’ll be like that for you too.” She empathized.

Akaashi and her were your only pair of soulmates to admire; They were the only two you knew. Your parents were also soulmates but you couldn’t see their love blossom due to his passing. You saw how much your mother loved and grieved him, but you weren’t old enough at the time to remember him loving her as much.

“I think they’re done,” Stephanie said as she held her hand. “I felt his signal.”

Akaashi and her shared physical touch. If in 500 meters of her, whatever Akaashi felt physically, so would Stephanie.

And as if it was timed, right after her statement the team came through the school's entrance doors.

“Hey!” Akaashi said as he waived at the two of you. He situated himself right behind his girlfriend. He muttered a small ‘hello’ as he kissed the top of her head and held her hand and rubbed small circles with his thumb against the back of it.

so that must have been their signal.

You could only wish your soulmate was as kind and loving as Akaashi.

You unknowingly stare at the couple in front of you as your phone starts to ring with your mother's picture displayed on the screen.

“Hi, mom” you answer.

“y/n! I need you to run to the store for me. I forgot a few ingredients for dinner today, could you get Osamu to drive you to the market?” Your mother said urgently. 

“Uh, I would but ‘Samu’s taking a test right now, he won't be done any time soon.”

“Then can you ask Atsumu to take you?” Her words made you cringe at the thought of being in such close proximity to him for that long.

“Mom, I-” but before you could finish your refusal she interrupts.

“Please, y/n. I’m desperate.” she pleaded.

You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell her that going with Atsumu would be impossible, that he wouldn’t even take you in the first place but then you remembered how hard she works. She worked this hard for you, so this was the least you could do for her.

“Okay, I’ll ask him,” you say in a slightly sombre tone as you accept your defeat.

“Thank you!! I’ll send you the list, love you!” those were the last words you heard before she hung up.

“Ready to go?” Stephanie asked as she swung her bag over her shoulder.

“Change of plans. You guys go without me, I gotta find Atsumu.” Both their faces synchronously scrunched together in confusion.

“Are you going to be okay?” akaashi asked, clearly concerned.

You vigorously nod your head and send them on their way, thanking them for offering the ride home.

A deep sigh escapes your mouth as you make your way inside the school to find Atsumu. Luckily, or unluckily, you found him immediately standing at his locker as he was laughing at something Suna said.

You debated turning back twice but decided to suck it up. With strong strides, you walk up to Atsumu’s figure.

“Atsumu” even though you aimed for your voice to come off strong, even you could hear the strain in it.

He wore his usual volleyball attire, identical to Osamu. White joggers with a vertical black stripe doing down the side of each leg accompanied by a black t-shirt, which clung to his body due to the aftermath of an hour-long practice.

You approaching him for a change, took him by surprise a bit, but even surprise he still managed to wear that smirk to antagonize you.

“What’cha want, princess?” he said as he placed his hands in the pockets of his pants.

There was that damn nickname again.

“Um, I need you to take me to the market,” you say bluntly. Sugarcoating with Atsumu would only lead to his enjoyment but, somehow your words managed to do so anyway.

His smirk grew as he leaned back on the lockers behind him.

“And where’s the person who ya wanted to take you?” he knew he wasn’t your first choice. Hell, he wasn’t even your third or fourth choice.

“‘Samu can’t, so can you or not?” you probably shouldn’t have given him an ultimatum, especially because you had the lower ground.

“Sorry princess, can’t,” he said without a care as he slid his arm through his maroon Inarizaki jacket. “Meetin’ with Yui”

Just her name was enough to remember this morning. Your face contorts in disgust at the thought of her roaming the house barely clothed.

“Oh, you don’t have to be jealous, princess.” atsumu says after witnessing your reaction and assuming it was because of him. You can't help but snort at his response.

“I think you’re telling the wrong girl that.” you can't help but laugh as you speak. Your words earn a slight head tilt from a confused Atsumu and an amused whistle from Suna.

You turn to take your leave from his presence, but before you walk out the school entrance you turn back one more.

“Tell your girlfriend to watch what she says to me next time.” Your voice was much stronger than before. You didn’t stay behind to see the distraught faces of the two men you left behind.

You couldn’t even hear the way Atsumu slammed his locker and Suna’s voice calling him as he rushed off.

You should have eaten more today.

That was the only thing that you could think while you scurried through the food aisles slowly compiling the ingredients your mother needed. Her listen was all over the place; enoki mushrooms, powdered sugar, sesame seeds, fatty tuna, vanilla extract, rice. The list went on longer than you expected.

All the feelings you were being put through today managed to stop you from eating lunch as well. The only thing that was in your stomach was five grapes that you managed to get down before your encounter with the unexpected visitor.

The last thing on the list was a jar of raspberry preserves, which of course was located on the highest shelf of the aisle. As you stare at it, debating if you should make a fool of yourself to jump while flailing your arms to reach, a voice came from behind you.

“Need a boost, princess?” His voice started you causing you to move backwards and stumble into his chest but quickly move away from him. Before you could respond Atsumu reaches up and grabs the jar that you were eyeing.

You turn around to him with wide eyes as he hands you the jar without his usual banter. Silently, you nod your head and take the preserves from him.

“Why’d you come? Weren’t you going to hang out with your girlfriend?” you asked as you placed the jar into the cart.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said firmly as he placed a hand on the cart to halt you from moving.

Why was he acting this way over this? It actually seemed like he was bothered by the situation.

You opened your mouth to respond but the voice that danced on your ears did not belong to you.

“Well, this is a sight I never thought I’d see.” A deep voice sounded from behind Atsumu. Both you and Atsumu whipped your heads in the voice's direction only to be met with two faces that put a smile on your face instantly.

“Aran!” Atsumu bellowed loudly, as he embraced his friend while you exchange greetings with Kita.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked.

“We came back from college today, decided to go shoppin’,” Kita said as he lifted up the small basket in his hand.

“Now, the more important question is, what are you two doing here?” Aran asked as his eyes bounced between you and Atsumu. Aran was a friend of the twins ever since they were 9, therefore he was your friend as well. He knew exactly how you felt about Atsumu, so that would explain the way he was looking at the two of you, alone at a grocery store as the sky was enveloped by darkness.

“My mom asked me to pick some things and uh, ‘Samu was busy,” you said quickly, hoping that he didn’t think differently.

Aran nodded his head while pressing his lips together.

“Say, aren’t you guys graduatin’ soon?” Kita said as he shifted his basket from one hand to the other. “D’ya know where you’re going for school y/n?”

Now, this was the first thing that put a smile on your face throughout the entire day. “Yeah, UCI, California!” you said with a proud girn.

“America? What program?” Kita inquired with wide eyes.

“Journalism!” the one word made everyone’s eyes widened.

“Of course it’s journalism. She's the one-woman team that runs the Inarizaki newspaper.” Aran said with a wide smile.

You continued the conversation with Aran and Kita as Atsumu wandered off somewhere in the store. You weren’t sure where he had gone but you didn’t care enough to worry.

As you and Kita conversed, Aran spotted Atsumu at the opposite end of the aisle and slips away from the conversation.

“Bro, where d’ya go?” Aran asked slightly concerned.

“Just walkin’ round,” Atsumu said as he swung his keys around his index finger.

“So, y/n’s leaving Japan?” Atsumu had an idea of where Arans questioning was leading to as he slowly nodded his head in agreement.

“How does ‘Samu feel about that?”

ding ding ding

“Probably not too good,” Atsumu asked knowing exactly how his brother feels about your pretending departure. “I wouldn’t feel too good if the girl I loved since I was 6 was leavin’ the country either”

“So is he gonna tell her?” Aran whispered.

Atsumu let out a soft snort at Aran’s words. “He had 12 years to tell her, ya think he’s gonna now?”

Atsumu knew his twin brother loved you since before they even started playing volleyball. And ever since then, Osamu has never once attempted to tell you of his feelings. It drove Atsumu mad, but he never interfered between you and him.

Before the conversion could further between him and Aran, they both see Kita waving them down.

“Let’s go Aran, y/n has to get this stuff home before dinner!” Kita said as the two large men approached you.

“Happy early birthday, y/n,” Kita said as he gave you a small hug.

At Kita’s words, Aran checked the date on his phone in a panic. “It’s tomorrow!”

“Yeah, the only reason why Kita knew was it came up in conversation” you replied. You were never one to flaunt your birthday. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy big parties and multiple guests but, to you birthdays meant something else.

Your fifth birthday was the only one that you could remember before your father’s death. It was celebrated by only your mother, father and you, but it seemed like the most fun a five-year-old could have. Your mother always mentioned how your father enjoyed small birthdays and how they were sacred. he would say to “only share them with people who brought you pure happiness and expected nothing in return”. And that was now how you chose to live, just like him.

“Actually, I'm having a small dinner tomorrow, do you two want to join? ‘Samu will be there, so you could catch up with him.” Your invitation earned a smile from Kita and Aran but a deep frown by the blonde beside them.

You hadn’t invited Atsumu to your birthday dinner for obvious reasons and weren’t planning to.

The two men looked at each other debating whether to accept or decline but ultimately accepted.

You were expecting Atsumu to chime in but, he hadn’t. He only looked at you with narrow eyes and a frown.

His eyes were laced with an emotion that you couldn’t quite decipher. Anger? Annoyance?

It was only then that you missed Atsumu’s stupid banter because this Atsumu,

This Atsumu seemed to be a thousand times worse

Ten minutes had passed since you last left the market and about twenty minutes since you last spoke to each other.

You two sat in complete silence as Atsumu drove to the Miya mansion in Atsumu’s Red Lamborghini. Mr. Miya bought both the twins a car of their choice for their 18th. Osamu had gone with a black Benz jeep while Atsumu went for the most flashy option.

You debated speaking to him, to break the awkward silence that filled the space between the two of you but Atsumu had already gotten ahead of you.

“Not going to extend the invitation for yer dinner?” His tone returned to its usually annoying self.

You look at him with a blank face and tired eyes. “Are you joking? It’s not like you’d come anyways.”

It was hard to believe that you two were once friends. Now you two could barely be in a car together without it imploding. He was the one that left you out of things, he was the one that no longer wanted to be your friend when you two were 8 years old. So why was antagonizing you over an invitation he wouldn’t even accept in the first place?

He just wanted to pester you in every way possible.

Minutes passed and once again the car was quiet as a mouse. Till Atsumu, once again sparked up a conversation.

“Yui,” You whipped to face Atsumu in the diver seat.

“Excuse me?”

“Yui. What did she say to ya?” He spoke without taking his eyes off the road, foot shifting between the gas and the break.

You were too tired to lie or ask why he cared, so you answered truthfully. “Your girlfriend didn’t like your nickname.”

“Not my girlfriend,” he said curtly while turning the wheel to turn on to your street.

“Fuck buddy, whatever.” you aimlessly correct yourself.

“Not anymore,” Before you could even comprehend his response, you two passed through the white gate lining the mansion.

It was far later than you thought you’d be home. The moon sat brightly in the sky as it was surrounded by small stars. it was basically night You only hoped that your mother wouldn’t be mad.

Unexpectedly, Atsumu helped you carry the grocery bags into the house. He strung 4 bags on his arms as you were left to carry one. You insisted that you can carry half his load but he was already through the door.

“‘Tsumu! y/n! Bless your hearts, thank you kids so much.” your mother said as you two placed the grocery bags on the counter in the kitchen. “Thank you for taking her, ‘Tsumu.”

“Of course, Obasa-” before atsumu could finish speaking to your mother something had caught his attention from the dining room.

Or perhaps, someone.

Before you knew it, Atsumu ran to the dining room and stood in front of the table. Instinctively, you follow him to the scene in front of you.

Sitting at the table was Osamu across from Mrs. Miya, and in between them, at the head of the table, sat a man you had not seen in a long time.

Miya Kaito, the twins’ father

“Atsumu” his father's voice sounded cold and hard as it said his son's name. Atsumu must have thought the same thing as you could see him wince at the sound of his name rolling off his father's tongue.

“So now ya decide to come home? What, finally got tired of sleeping at the office?” Atsumu’s voice was blaring, anger coursed through his veins, the only thing he could see was red.

“‘Tsumu! Stop it!” Osamu shouted from his seat in hopes to stop his brother.

“I wanted to have a meal with my family, so just sit down, Atsu-” Atsumu cut his father off not wanting to hear what he wanted to say.

“Cut the bullshit dad! Yer too busy for us and yer too busy for ma. so don’t even fucking try to fix this family, ya broke it a long time ago!” Atsumu’s voice raised in volume.

“Atsumu!” Mrs. Miya shrieked for her son to stop.

“I’m here now, okay? So sit down!” Mr. Miya’s voice matched Atsumu’s in volume as he urged his son to stop.

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think I’m gonna sit down and play house with ya.”  was the last thing Atsumu said before storming up the stairs. You stood there in complete shock at what just happened.

Your eyes scanned the room around you. Mrs. Miya held her head in her hands as Osamu's face grew in irritation. Their father stood there with distraught painting his face. Your mom was still in the kitchen, but she still glanced with worry with her hand over her mouth.

Everyone in this house was shaken because of him.

Osamu stood from his seat to go after his brother but you decided to instead. Osamu shouldn’t have to worry about his brother when he's going through the same thing.

You ran up with stairs faster than you ever have to catch up to him.

“Atsumu!” you called from him as you followed him up the stairs. He ignored you as he reached the top of the stairs and walked towards his room's door.

“Atsum-” Your second attempt was deemed successful in getting his attention as he turned around and pushed you against the wall, caging you in his arms.

“What do you fuckin’ want, y/n?” His voice dripped with pure anger. He looks distraught. His eyes were red and glassy and his skin was turning an unnatural shade of red.

“Atsumu, I know you’re mad at him but just go downstairs and talk to him! Everyone’s upset. Just give him a chance.”

“What the fuck do you know about how I feel? Ya got a good mom, yer going to a good school in America and ya live in a big house, which is mine by the way. Yer miss perfect! So don’t you fucking dare tell me what to do. This isn’t your place to speak.” He yelled inches away from your face.

You parted your lips to say something but he left before you could. The slam of this door was deafening to your ears. You stood there, in front of his door in utter shock.

You knew he had a right to be angry, and in no way you were denying that right. But Osamu had every right as well, and he was sitting downstairs beside his father.

Why was it different for Atsumu? Why should he be allowed to create this mess and let everyone drown in his actions?

Why couldn’t he just try?

Atsumu’s words about you left a burden heavier than any weight that has been placed on your shoulders. If you could not speak about his family, why could he speak so thoughtlessly about yours?

Broken families came in all sorts of shapes and sizes; he out of all people should have known that the best.

[ the lovers taglist: @meepmoop12w @okkotsoo @quirklessidiots-trashdump @luna-mothii @unstaaableaf @lilith412426 @sunasbabie @thepsychicartist @gojoussunglasses @encrytpta @yamaguchis-17th-freckle @mavrintarou ]

unable to tag bolded blogs <\3

Demon Brothers Helping a Struggling MC

CW for: eating disorders (alluded to but not described - discussed in the disclaimer).

so, i want to first state that if anybody believes anything in this post is more harmful than helpful, please let me know and i will delete it. I know that for things that I deal with, fics like this are comforting, but seeing as I’ve never personally had an eating disorder or known someone with one, it’s entirely possible I missed the mark. additionally: here is a tumblr post with a variety of hotlines you can call if you need to. There are eating disorder specific hotlines for the US and UK listed, along with suicide helplines for countries around the world. if you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out and get help - especially from the professionals who know how to give the proper care. you are so worth it.

Lucifer

He keeps an eye on you, even when you don’t realize it, so he’s the first to notice that something is bothering you. Still, with how much time he spends working, it does take him a little longer than he’d like.

As solution-oriented as he is, he prefers to address you the moment he figures it out. His words are firm and straightforward - he’s not the one you want to go to if you need things put gently.

Pride is who he is, and he takes great pride in you - he makes sure to make this known. This knowledge does not make him any less proud of you, and he wants you to be able to see yourself the way he does - certainly then, you might have an easier time with the recovery process.

Even if Lucifer cannot be there directly by your side, he is always with you - in the reminders he sends you, in the rewards he promises when you make progress, in the efforts he makes to assist your transition into the Devildom. He’s the best at creating a stable environment so that you don’t have as much to focus on while he works with you to recover.

Mammon

Mammon is a hard on to hide anything from, if only because he’s around you so much. he also spends a lot of time staring after you wistfully but shhh don’t let him know you know

Still, he’s also a bit oblivious at times, so it might take him a while to notice anything is up. once he does realize that you’re struggling, he panics a bit.

Mammon brings it up himself, but only after a short while of acting antsy around you and staring more pointedly at you at random points throughout the day. he’s clumsy in his approach, but careful to be sensitive: he’s used to being told how often he messes things up, and this is one thing he WANTS to get right.

Mammon has a way of making you feel in control - with the way he allows you to tell him what you need, with the way he isn’t too pushy in helping you through rockier days of your recovery. He wants to be able to be YOUR man, your go-to guy for anything, and he’ll make absolutely sure to get it right.

Leviathan

Levi has a million things to distract himself from the world around him, so bringing him into reality can take a while.

However, he can also tell when somebody else is uncomfortable - whether it’s a facet of his pact or he’s just in tune with his best friend, he isn’t sure.

He’s the type to go to sites like reddit and ask for first-person experience advice. The clinical advice seems stuffy and he isn’t sure if he can be trusted with such formal advice.

His strong suit is distraction, so if you’re okay with it, that how he’ll help you. If anything in your recovery gets too much, he’s there to help shift your focus. He’s also good with helping you stick to some kind of schedule, if that helps you out. After all, he sticks to one religiously to catch all his shows - he’ll rearrange it for you if you need it.

Satan

Satan is perceptive, but he’s not immune to overthinking. The fact that you came to the Devildom, something to be wary of yet somehow becoming something so treasured so quickly, catches him off guard and he still has to reconcile his feelings with how he watches you.

When he does find out and realizes how long he’s gone without noticing, he’s angry with himself. He’s supposed to be the smart one, the perceptive one, and he missed something so important.

He’ll read up on everything he can in order to give you the best support. Satan will also up his attentiveness, making sure to notice any little thing you may need that you don’t want to tell him about.

Aside from maybe having to let him know to back off a bit, Satan will probably be the most likely to just intuitively know what you need. He still communicates everything with you, and he makes for good company, whatever type you may need.

Asmodeus

Asmo’s favorite things to take pictures of are as follows: himself, you, and the most aesthetically pleasing desserts he can find. When you start shying away from two of those, he wonders briefly what made you so camera shy but normally turns the camera on himself and shrugs it off. maybe you feel like you’re having a bad hair day?

Once it does dawns on him that perhaps it’s something more serious, he’ll immediately ask you how he can help. He’s holding you gently as he does, using his softest voice - he almost sounds timid, and maybe he has to be, to deal with the amount of love he’s feeling for you and only you.

You might have to tell him to ease up on the overt compliments about how you look or talking about buying clothes and “form fitting” shapes, and thought he’ll have a learning curve he’ll find lots of different ways to make sure you feel loved! He’ll take a page from your book and start complimenting things like how sweet you are, or how smart he thinks you are - things about the you inside of you that have his heart racing when you say them back.

Asmo knows a lot about the pressure to look a certain way, so even though he lives by feeding into what those people want, he’ll always back out if it gets too much for you. If it’s alright with you, you can always be his favorite photographer <3

Beelzebub

When he’s eating, he doesn’t always focus on what other people are eating. (honestly, it only makes him hungrier). However, when he offers some of his food to you - a move anybody will tell you is the most affectionate thing he can do - and you refuse, he starts to worry.

At first, he wonders if you’re upset with him - and once he finds out the real reason, he doesn’t feel much more satisfied.

Beel’s best effort is trying to structure mealtimes more so instead of gorging himself throughout the day he eats meals. He also never judges or comments on what you do or don’t eat - he just does his best to make sure you have any option you want.

Beel’s strongest suit is comfort - he’ll agree with anything you do want to eat and will get rid of anything you don’t without judgement. He’s also pretty good with knowing the nutritional value of food - if you’re interested, he’d be more than happy to help you plan meals that have what you want and what you need, without making it seem too daunting a task.

Belphegor

Belphegor doesn’t pick up on a lot of things because he’s asleep most of the day. He does, however, spend a lot of his conscious hours with you, and eventually (maybe with some innocent prompting from Beel) he’ll realize that you’re starting to behave differently.

Will straight up ask you about it until he knows you’re being completely honest with him. What he lacks in tact he makes up for in dedication - he wants to help you, and his apathetic front allows him to help without seeming too involved to the point it makes you uncomfortable.

Belphegor can help you feel a sense of normalcy if you ever get overwhelmed or disconnected. He can continue conversations about really anything and help give you a moment to recuperate and breathe.

That’s not to say he isn’t proactive in your recovery. Anything you tell him or anything he brings to the table to brainstorm, he’ll say at the end of the conversation “let me sleep on it” and when he wakes up again he’ll have several game plans ready to see which helps you most in your recovery.

All

if one of them catches wind, it’s only a matter of time until the others notice how something’s changed between you and that brother

all of them will advocate for you to have easier access to the human world for therapy (in their own ways, some more helpful than others), should you choose to go. if not, they’ll all do their best to be a comforting ear when you need one.

sometimes you can find them all in the library, not discussing what you’ve told them but trying to figure out how best to communicate how much they care. (it’s one of the few times you can see them actually working together)

whoever had grocery duty or dinner duty will often check in with you to see if you have any special requests. if you mention wanting a specific snack or something throughout the day, you might end up with seven packages of it within 24 hours. (they’re all trying).

little by little, you’ll also notice how they stop fighting as much at the table. meals become more fun and enjoyable affairs, even if there’s been a disagreement earlier in the day. the brothers are all on their best behavior, and lucifer doesn’t even make any comments wondering why they won’t act that way for diavolo.

MLB x DC Universe Headcannons

I just love the idea of MLB and DC (expecially Batfam cuz Mari is such a Wayne) being in the same universe and crossing over. So one night, I just had an idea overload of different ways the Marinette would know the batfam/be a part of the DC universe. And if any of my shitty ideas somehow inspire or prompt you, then please be my guest. 😊 _

1) “Ladybugs of Past and Present”

Hippolyta, Wonder Woman’s mother, was once a previous holder of the ladybug miraculous. When Fu activated the miraculous and put them in circulation, Hippolyta could feel its magic waking back up. Knowing there must a reason for it to be out, she sent a message to her daughter. Diana searched, finding Marinette and Adrien as the present holders of the ladybug and cat miraculous. She vouched and brought them into the Young Justice program while they also made their own team, Project: Zodiac (or something like that).

[Sometime when Diana takes Marinette to meet Hippolyta]

“Great Hera, Tikki, you have not aged a day” -Hippolyta, cause she does know how to make joke. 

“And I would say the same to you” -Tikki

“Mother, you can make a laugh?” -Wonder Woman, honestly a bit confused cause her mom have never not been serious before.

And Marinette is just speechless cause she’s starstruck meeting Wonder Woman’s mom AND a previous Ladybug holder.

_

2) “Rockstar Niece”

Jagged Stone is Marinette’s Sweet Uncle J. During the summers, Jagged Stone would take Mari with him on tour. HIs summer tours are throughout America, so Mari gets to sightsee the country. Jagged’s first tour that he gets to take Mari on (5-ish), he’s also booked for the annual (for whatever reason) Wayne Summer Gala. When Marinette meets the Waynes, they are so enamoured (Dick and Tim couldn’t help it) that they tell Jagged he’s always invited as a guest, Mari of course being added to the permanent guest list too. About 6 years later, Mari is practically adopted, spending the first half of her summers with Jagged, going to the Wayne Gala, then spending the rest of her summer with the Waynes. Overtime, she figured out the secrets of the family and was there to welcome Jason back from the dead (when that happens). Anyways, now 11(-ish?) Mari meets Damian and the two become good friends… after an… impressionable first meeting.

“Tch, let me guess, you’re another one of father’s adopted strays” -Dami

“YOU MUST BE DAMIAN!!! DICK TOLD ME ABOUT YOU!!” -Marinette, who just ignores what he said for a hug.

“hiiiiiiiiissssssss” -Dami, touchy with touch

“...” sprays water in his face since he decided to act like a cat.

“I say, Master Bruce, the children are getting along quite well” -Alfred

_

3) “Pen Pals” 

Jon Kent and Marinette Dupain-Cheng are part of an international pen-pal program, starting when they were very young (maybe like 4 or 5-ish, super super young) where they told each other everything (Jon can’t just say that his older bro is a clone made from Superman and Lex Luthor’s DNA, or that his dad is Superman, or that his best friend is Robin, but yea. Lois and Clark probably proofread his stuff until he’s like 9) with pictures and everything. When they’re old enough to get phones & stuff, they call, text and vid-chat along with their letters (love without blood). When Mari is maybe 9-11 (somewhere around there) she starts flying over during the summers to hangout with Jon (and his friends and big brother). While there, she meets Kon, Bat fam, and Clark (some who she already knew, some who she didn’t) & lightly hints that she knows who all they are once she figures it out (it didn’t take her long to do so). 

Now whenever she visits and is at Wayne Manor (Jon likes to have sleepovers practically every weekend) while they’re on patrol, Mari subtly messes with their minds (super subtle, they’re the world’s best detectives after all) until they finally look through the cams and see Mari giving them one of those smiles (those shit-grinning cause it’s just so hilarious how it’s gone on for so long) & and a playful wink. 

[5 seconds later]

“Mari!” “Pixie-pop!” “Angel!” “Teacup!”

“Seriously, am I the only one with a normal nickname for her?” -Tim

“Ms. Marinette would like to inform you that ‘it took you long enough’” -Alfred (who so knows that the girl has been playing them since the third night she stayed at the Wayne’s)

“Where are my adoption papers?” -Bruce (who is seriously adopting any talented black-haired child)

_

4) “Mari and Mar’i” 

When Mar’i is young, Dick and Kori take her with them to see Paris (btw, this would be during the winter). They’re strolling along through a park and lose track of Mar’i who finds Marinette (9-10 ish). Marinette comforts and distracts Mar’i while noticing the young(er) girl is Tameranian (her hair is very warm and she’s wearing significantly less layers than should be worn for a human of that age during the winter, plus that sun-kissed skin tone. She’s seen Kori in her fashion magazines (and, from time to time, on the news as an ambassador) so she easily make the connections). Dick and Kori finally spot Mar’i with Mari who introduces herself to them. Mar’i asks if she can see her “Auntinette” again and Marinette just goes “if your parents are okay with it.” Dick and Kori are totally cool with it (not many are willing to watch her and have the time to do it) so they ask Marinette if she can babysit Mar’i whenever (with good pay of course) if she’s up to it (cause she’s still pretty young). Marinette can’t say no to Mar’i’s babydoll eyes (and she’s so much easier compared to Manon, who’s only 2 rn), so of course, she says yes. 

Now Marinette is Mar’is official babysitter and sees Mar’i often whenever her parents drop her off (using zeta tubes to quickly get to Paris and back). Marinette gets treated like an honorary Wayne (cause she’s the most responsible) and gets invited to their family stuff (w/ travel pay taken care of, of course). It doesn’t take her long to realize the fact that she babysits Bruce Wayne’s & BATMAN’S granddaughter, but of course, being the responsible one she is, keeps the secret… while also playing with them via Mar’i.

[One Day]

After Marinette leaves for her plane…

“Uncle Dami!”

“Yes, Spawn?”

“Auntinette said to tell you after she left that Robin’s sut needs a major upgrade & that you look like a traffic light… whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

[Another Day]

“Uncle Jay!”

“What’s up kid?’

“Auntinette said that to let you know that Red Hood doesn’t make any sense ‘cause Red Hood wears a helmet. Not a hood.”

[The next time]

“Uncle Tim!”

Yawn. “yea?”

“Auntie told me to give you this” (pulls out super caffeinated coffee) “and that Red Robin’s cowl is a menace to all things fashion”

[Again…] 

“Daddy!”

“Yes, Starshine?”

“Auntienette said she’s proud of Nightwing’s costume ‘cause it’s one of the only in the batfam that isn’t an astro-city to the fashion society.”

_

5) “Marinette, the one who’s always getting chosen”

Before Mari became (becomes(?)) LB, she comes across a different powerful piece of jewelry, from a different order of guardians where her will of mind is not only her shield from being akumatized, but it is also what drives her powers. That’s right, Mari walks past a flea market and activates a GL ring. The guardians pick up on this activity and send Hal (it is his sector) to check it out. Hal finds the ring with Mari but it still needs the light of a GL to charge and fully work. 

[During the explanation]

“Look, kid-”

“Marinette.” 

“Look, kid, I just need to know why you have that ring.”

“You think I know? I was just walking through the market and all of a sudden, this possessed ring, if that’s even what this is, started following me, then zipped in front of my face til i held my hand up so it can put itself on my finger.” 

“Kid-”

“It’s MARINETTE. Get it wrong one more time and you’ll see why I don’t need a possessed piece of alien jewelry.” -Marinette, making sure you get her name right. “Besides, if I stole it, I would remember. I’m a klepto” -Marinette, probably holding his ring too at this point.

Hal obviously doesn’t want the wrath of the Dupain-Chengs (just the kid Marinette scares him enough), so he tells the guardians that JL will take care of most of Mari’s training (once they get her a lamp for her ring, of course) & has her take part in training at Mt. Justice with the Young Justice team and special training with the Bats. Mari does all this under the guise of an international student exchange program for Mari to stay with the Waynes (not yet knowing that it’s the bat fam) and attends G.A. Mari doesn’t do much, but it takes her 24-36 hours to know who EVERYONE is.

[the next week after settling in]

“Hey, Mars,” -Dick, in his Nightwing gear

“Hey, Di-is the GREATEST SHOW!” -Mari, changing the subject(… not really)

“How long did it take you?”

“Not as long as the Kryptonians…” -Mari, going off into a tangent (still trying to change the subject”

[When Marinette meets Tikki]

Back in Paris:

“Sooo… I’m getting powerful jewelry that gives me powers and a suit, needs to be recharged, and comes from some Order of the Guardians? What’s the difference between you and my ring?” -Marinette, who at this point is very confused as to why she keeps getting picked on for this kind of stuff. 

“One’s alien, one’s magic” -Tikki, hoping Mari will end it there & lowkey hates that the GL Corp. got to her first.

“They’re both non-human made energy sources” -Mari, cause once you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it all before. 

“You can’t heal the Akuma without the miraculous, and there are more than just rings. Yours are earrings, there are hair clips, bracelets, necklaces and more” -Tikki, after having a minute to think

“Fine, only because you said they’re the only way to heal the, what was it again, akuma?”

_

6) “Their Unofficial Official Barista”

Part of Tim’s job as Co-CEO, is to make sure all the branches are running smoothly, sometimes that means he has to fly abroad to manually check in. Tim goes to Paris to check on the W.E. Paris branch. He goes to a nearby Patisserie (Tom and Sabine’s) to see a young Marinette (somewhere from 8-11) drawing in her sketchbook at the counter. She explains that her parents are at a catering event, but she’s there to man the little bakery. Tim asks for a super caffeinated coffee and Marinette makes it with ease, claiming it was on the house with how bad he looks (and how much sleep the man clearly needs). Tim begs for her knowledge and asks if she can teach his butler. Mari’s willing to show him the next time he comes, so he gets the whole fam to go (viz tubes so they don’t waste time) maybe a week later. Everyone gets their own drink (plus a free pastries) and Marinette teaches Alfred her coffee, but it’s just not the same so Tim, using the tubes, goes to get coffee from the girl whenever he can. 

Mari is horrible at getting up on time (the life of an insomniac, never getting to sleep even if you want and then barely waking up on time) that she is up super early, makes Tim his coffee (plus a croissant) and tries to go back to sleep (making her inevitably late). Tim would walk up to the pick-up counter where his cup and to-go bag is while Marinette runs out of the house to get to school. Eventually, the rest of the Batfam (as well as the Laegue, TT, and YJ) frequent the place, slowly becoming (Dami too) Mari hides it, but she knew all the batfam the first day they came and she showed Alfred how to make the coffee. When the others start making more regular appearances, she learns the identities of YJ team, WW, GLs, and others. Obviously when LB and CN appear as heroes with HM as their villain, they immediately reach out to help. Because 1. Batfam clearly notices that it’s Mari and they sure as heck won’t let her deal with that by herself, and 2. The JL is worrying too much about their favorite barista (even though she’s not really one), especially with the Gigantitan scare. So, of course LB & CN (can’t make him bad everytime) get inducted into YJ.

[After Ladybug finishes defeating Gigantitan and detransforms] 

“Bean! Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” -Tim, being an even more protective older brother than Dick, which shouldn’t be possible

“Yes, I promise. I’m fine” -Marinette, who just accepts the fact that she’s adopted an older brother (and his famliy)

“Tube over, we’ll have Alfred make sure” -Dick, already pulling out the medical supplies for Alfred.

“I-” 

“You shouldn’t worry your brothers like that, Marinette. Now come over so Alfred can clear you,” -Bruce, who just happens to overhear the conversation

“I’m sorry, Miss Marinette, they are very adamant that you’re in pitch perfect health before going out again,” -Alfred, who’s not actually sorry

“Fine” -Marinette, accepting her fate of her adopted, protective family. 

_

7) “Thicker Than the Blood We’ve Shed”

Why is Marinette so freakishly strong? Because she was trained to be. Before she could even talk, Mari was taught to be an assassin. She and Damian were frenemies, both competing for top spot as best in the League (of Assassins). They often spared together and became rivals who pushed each other (which sounds great in that context if you forget about the fact that they’re killing people and turning it into a competition). When Damian’s care is turned over to Batsy, Mari also comes along for the ride. She implements herself into Dami’s classes at G.A. & watches him from afar. (Damian, not being an idiot, of course knows all this and knows that it’s probably for Mari to give a report to Talia.) When he becomes Robin, Mari obviously knows, but waits to see if anything drastic would happen (his care was given to the Batfam, they had already expected this to happen.) She then heard word of the bounty Talia put on Damian’s head. Marinette knew there wouldn’t be much she could do to help, but she ave Dami a warning about the upcoming situation before fleeing the country. 

From there she got to France, changed her name (it wasn’t originally Marinette, it was Shénqí, chinese for miraculous/magical (or something else if you want)), was adopted by Tom & Sabine, and left her time in the League in the past. When she received Tikki, she didn’t want to be a hero because she didn’t think she deserved it after her up-bringing. Eventually, she did become LB (being a trained assassin does help with lucky charms, considering she was taught how to kill with basically every and anything), and life was good for her. Then Rossi came.

[Gotham field trip]

While at Wayne Tower…

“How idiotic are they?” -Damian, who after reuniting with his long-lost sister-from-a-different-mister (yes, Marinette was able to convince him to say it once), can’t understand the stupidity she has to deal with.

“Are you Robin?” -Mari, who is too tired, so just goes straight into the analogy

“Yes.” -Obvious and simply is.

“Exactly” -Mari, who can’t even put a limit to the amount of thought the one brain cell the class shares doesn’t use. I mean please, the so-called “reporter” believed that the first cosplayer she saw was the actual LB when they don’t even have the same hair! And let’s not forget the origins arc, where LB’s first citizen save was Chloe.

Bobby made a list of all the possible things that could’ve gone wrong that day. He was going to update it that night, once the show was done and they had rocked out the Orpheum. It started out great. The four boys woke up with hardly any sleep in them because of their excitement for the day, but nothing could kill their adrenaline for the day ahead of them. Even Bobby, who usually tried to hide his emotions, was almost all smiles that morning. They all got their parents to agree to let them stay the night in the studio. 

“Just think, later tonight we could have a manager and we could finally get big like we’ve always dreamed!” Luke said, being the band’s usual hype man. Reggie nodded,

“Yeah! Who knows what’s gonna happen tonight, but it’s gonna be a big night.” Alex smiled in response, but the band knew the fact that their entire future was almost riding on that night, it would make him more anxious than the rest of them. They were all anxious about it, of course, but they wouldn’t let it take away from their excitement in any way. 

“No matter what happens I’m sure everything will turn out good in the end.” Bobby tried subtly reassuring Alex, which didn’t do much, but Alex appreciated the attempt. 

“Yeah for sure.” he nodded. They knew he wouldn’t wanna ruin their fun with this, so they all shared a look and immediately knew what to do. 

“Hey, let’s go check out the area. Maybe we’ll be able to meet some fans!” Reggie got his big grin, opening the garage doors for them to start on their quest to calm Alex down at least in the slightest. 

Bobby’s list of things that could go wrong - 1. An instrument could get damaged.

They ended up seeing some people already lining up outside the orpheum, waiting just so they could get good spots. All of their hearts felt like they were flying when they saw the sight. Alex actually got a real smile at that, not the one he gave them to make them feel better. 

“Luke, are you sure you wanna open with ‘Now or Never’?” Bobby questioned him, “It kinda feels like one we should save for last, y’know, to really blow them all away. It’s our song we always hear the most positive response to.”

“That’s exactly why we gotta start with it, man! We gotta show everyone how good we are, catch them by surprise and keep them on the edge of their seats. I don’t want them to just enjoy us at the end, we gotta keep them going the whole time!” Bobby couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s enthusiasm. 

“All right, fine, but if the crowd doesn’t seem as passionate about the rest, don’t blame me.” Reggie chuckled and put his arm around his friends.

“I say we go check out the area and see if we wanna get something to eat and we just kill time for a while before we go and rehearse.” 

~♧~

That’s what they did for a while, they ended up having a lot of fun and they managed to get their nerves set aside and that allowed them to get fully excited for the show later that night. 

“Hey, do any of you wanna hear my joke about the blunt pencil? Oh it doesn’t matter, it’s pointless.”  Bobby said, and he got an evil grin at the sound of his friends letting out an annoyed groan. 

“No, I want to hear it!” Reggie said excitedly, which only made his friends get more tired of them. 

“Reggie that-” at the look on Reggie’s face Alex just paused and sighed, “okay.” 

Luke decided to ignore the terrible puns going on and turned to his friends. “Hey, let’s go do that sound check- we don’t wanna not be ready for our performance.” 

~♧~

“You sure you don’t wanna go with them? I’m not sure you’ll be able to occupy yourself for two hours.” Rose smiled at him, 

“Nah, they’ll be fine. I’m not sure even they could fuck everything up in the time they go get food and come back.“  Bobby chuckled, trying to come up with more flirty lines but given his tendency to use terrible puns, he’s not exactly the best with flirting either. 

It had been almost an hour and a half since they’d left. Bobby knew it might’ve taken them awhile to find food and get it but it shouldn’t be taking them this long. 

“Bobby, I say we just go out and search for them. Maybe they lost track of time and we just need to go get them.” Rose suggested to the anxious guitar player. 

“No- No, they wouldn’t ever lose track of time. This means the world to them. They’ll be here. I know they will. Even if they died, they’d find a way to play the Orpheum.” Bobby started pacing back and forth. They both knew he was just trying to convince himself at that point, “They wouldn’t miss this.”

Bobby’s list of things that could go wrong - 2.The equipment is messed up.

“Luke, R-Reggie” Alex croaked out, tears streaming down his cheeks from the pain. They didn’t respond. Alex felt everything inside him stop. They were gone. The pain from the hotdogs weren’t even anything compared to the loss he felt. Alex screamed, his two best friends just died. He started coughing up blood, everyone around him trying to save the boy but knowing they couldn’t.

“Please, I don’t wanna die.” 

Bobby started getting a little upset at them for taking this long, they had missed the rest of rehearsal and they only had minutes before they were supposed to go on stage. Why were they taking so long?

“I don’t wanna go to hell.” He begged.

Bobby could hear everyone chanting just thirty feet away. They were late, he couldn’t go on without them. He felt everything in his body freeze up when he saw the doors open, he hoped it was them.

The last thing Alex heard was a thumping noise filling his ears, slowing down into nothing, and a scream. 

“Are you Robert?”

Bobby nodded, a wave of fear washing over him. He knew it would be bad but nothing could prepare him for why this man was here. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but.. You won’t be playing tonight.”   

“Alex Mercer, time of death at 10:24 PM”

Bobby stopped breathing for a moment, “What do you mean?”

Everything felt like a blur after that. 

“Kid, I don’t know how to tell you this.” the next words felt as if they were being said through a loudspeaker, as Bobby was underwater. “Your bandmates all passed away about half an hour ago.” 

Bobby’s list of things that could go wrong - 3.One of them is late.

Bobby was completely calm with the next few words. “Why wasn’t I told right away?” It caught the officer off guard. He shifted, slightly worried at how easily this kid was taking the loss of his friends.

“We had to fix everything up and tell their parents-” before the officer could even finish, Bobby took his guitar off and smashed it right at his feet, which would have hurt like hell if he had cared enough to notice. Bobby was now shaking, but no one could tell if it was out of anger or pain. He had a look that they couldn’t read. He looked at the broken guitar, feeling a mix of dread and relief from doing that. By now, the crowd had started to get quiet after the loud crash of the guitar.

Still trying to stay completely calm, he responded “I’m sorry about that officer. I gotta go, now.” Bobby started walking off only to be stopped.

“We’re gonna have to take you in for investigation. We apologise, but we have to go down to the office.” Bobby paused for a moment, staring off into the distance before he burst into tears. He collapsed, and Rose rushed forward to help him. She’d still been in shock about the whole situation. Just hours ago, she flirted with people who are now dead. 

“I- I did this, didn’t I?” Bobby whispered to Rose, she felt her heart break. The officer got more suspicious, thinking this was some kind of act. To try and trick them, he confesses to the act and acts broken about it so no one truly suspects him. People can think that sometimes, when they aren’t the ones affected by the situation. 

“We’re going down to the office right now, if you try to resist I will have to arrest you. I don’t wanna do that to a kid, so let’s just go right now and we can get it all settled.” Bobby stood up, but he couldn’t feel his legs. The noise from earlier came back - like he was underwater, pushing up against the waves and trying to escape, but losing the fight. The officer held him by the arm and pulled him along.

~♧~

“Why didn’t you go with them to have the hot dogs?” Officer Smith asked. Bobby glanced at the voice recorder, still feeling like none of this was real.

“I stayed behind to talk with Rose.” He knew how stupid it sounded. They’d already gone over it but he was already interrogated and ripped apart by that. Bobby couldn’t believe how stupid it sounded, either. 

Officer Smith was clearly exhausted, he hadn’t gotten any real evidence so far and he tried doubling down on questions but it wasn’t working. He sighed, pressing stop on the voice recorder. 

“Alright, well, we’re gonna let you go home but we’ll have to schedule another interrogation.” Bobby yet again felt like he was pushed underwater. He wanted to say it was him, it was all his fault. He should’ve stopped them, but he didn’t. That might as well make him a killer. He wanted to scream at the officer, to tell him it was all his fault. “You should’ve stopped them”  he felt a voice whisper. That voice was him. Bobby knew that. But it didn’t hurt any less. Now the water he’s fighting against is a raging sea, and it’s pitch black out. He can’t tell which way is up and which is down. 

Bobby nodded, and got up to leave. As soon as he left the interrogation room, he felt free, though. He felt as if the moon was finally shining a light for him to see which way to go. He started running, he had to tell them about what just happened. How he got into trouble with the police, they’d be concerned but they’re the only ones he can see right now. 

He ran faster than he’d ever run in his life before, nearly getting hit by several cars. He saw a girl, she was sitting there in shock. He slowed down just a bit, he heard her muttering something about flirting with death. Bobby recognized her as one of the fans who was lined up outside the Orpheum earlier. He decided not to mess with it, he needed to see his friends.

Bobby was halfway home, and he started to go numb again. They won’t be there. Bobby shook those thoughts away, they would be there. They had to be. Maybe he just... imagined the last few hours. They haven’t even rehearsed yet.

As soon as Bobby opened the doors, he knew it was all real. The only thing he could see, was a dark, empty room. He collapsed to the ground, and this time, the numbness didn’t die down. 

The only way Bobby knew he was crying- no, sobbing at that point - was because his neighbor came out to see what had happened. So as soon as the old woman saw her neighbor sitting there, sobbing like he’d just lost the most important thing in the world to him, she had to see if he was okay. 

When she went up to him and tapped him on his shoulder, he didn’t even react. He was still crying, staring at the dark garage. 

Bobby was thinking of all he just lost. 

He’d lost Luke, the passionate writer of the group. Luke was the one in the first place to have come up with the idea of them being in a band together. Him and Luke had been friends since they were at least seven years old. He was there for Luke’s birthday when he first got his guitar, he remembered the excitement Luke had on his face. He was there for all of it, he and Luke worked together on a lot of songs. Luke, the one who would tease him and have fun with almost everything they did. Luke, who he let stay in his garage because his parents wouldn’t let him play music. 

Then there was Reggie, the sweet and innocent soul that Bobby had met next, they hadn’t been friends for quite as long but they got along really well. Bobby regretted every time he didn’t take one of Reggie’s offers for hugs, even if they were joke offers. He rarely wrote music with Reggie but he remembered hearing his country songs and country was never Bobby’s style but he definitely liked Reggie’s country songs. They held passion and happiness, it was Reggie’s escape just as much as it was Luke’s. 

Then there was Alex, the one who used to have a really good family life. He and his parents always got along, they always let him play music. They didn’t like the idea of him being in a band, but they never tried to stop him. Then he came out and all that changed. He was one of the most talented and humble people Bobby had ever met. He was kind and also the most sarcastic and snarky person Bobby had ever met. 

He’d lost them.

“Robert, are you okay?” He got snapped out of his thoughts as he looked at his neighbor with tears still streaming down his face. How could he be alright? His entire world just collapsed around him. He lost everyone he loved. But Bobby couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even open his mouth. 

He recalls a time once, when he was younger, at the beach. Before he met any of the guys. He’s surprised he even remembers a time before them - he’s known them for what feels like his entire life. He was always a good swimmer, growing up by the water, but being small and easily pushed over left him defenseless as a particularly strong wave pulled him under. He remembers feeling helpless. Wondering if he might drown. 

Sitting there, in the studio, he thinks that he might as well stay under and let the water fill his lungs.

The entirety of the next few months, that feeling stayed the same. He’d hardly spoken a word to anyone, so his parents made him go to a therapist, but they didn’t understand why he would look past him and mutter random words, why the parents said he talks to himself almost all day. Of course, they knew the boy had lost his best friends , but with how Bobby seemed to handle every other problem in life, they knew that this broke him. 

Bobby had to see his therapist at least once a week for many, many years. But Bobby never felt the same. Yes, he was freed of any suspicion under having killed them by the police. But he still felt like he was being pushed farther underwater by large waves, and he’d accepted that he’d never get out of that ocean.  

He changed his name, found new people, and even started to make music again. But he couldn’t write any new music. Nothing good, anyway. He couldn’t do it without his band, his family. Every time he released a song, he just felt more numb. More cold.

He felt moments of happiness, yes. He felt that with Olivia, who he was with for a long time. He had new friends. He had many, many fans. But somehow, none of it felt like it would ever change the fact that he lost his family. 

Only a few years later, he saw the sunlight. His little girl, Carrie. His hope, his joy. Olivia and him had split up, but he knew he could provide the best life for her. He might not be able to get out of the ocean, but he can see his way around now. It didn’t have to change his loss of his friends, it didn’t change his guilt, but he had something to live for.

 Maybe he could survive. 

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You can thank @bi-reginald for the editing and some of the writing! 🖤