#thank you! glad you like the duckies :3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

manchasama · 4 months

Text

:> I have finished another chapter. 8> I am v.pleased. This is the toughest chapter out of all of them. I don't go into great detail, but it is Ingo's strongest reaction. Careful duckies, but also enjoy(?)!

Hard to Swallow Part 4 (Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5)

"Ah, my good sir, wait just one moment!"

Ingo stopped at the familiar voice. Coming up the road was Professor Laventon. He was huffing a bit at the quick pace he'd set, and had a covered bundle clutched in his hands.

"Warden Ingo, I'm so glad to have caught you today," Laventon said jovially when he got closer. "I didn't get the chance to thank you properly for your help with finding those pokemon for me!"

"Good day, Professor," Ingo replied with a tip of his hat. "It was no trouble. I trust all passengers have their proper tickets and are on schedule?"

Professor Laventon took a moment to parse his phrasing, before giving a sheepish grin. "Ah, well, not exactly. They are quite the rambunctious fellows, you know? Won't listen to a word I say! That little Cyndaquil especially loves to create such a ruckus."

Oh, that was quite unfortunate. Ingo had thought he'd taken enough time to train them to being quite congenial partners. The Cyndaquil had been such a quick learner when it came to battle strategies, and he'd been sure it would have been a star pupil for the professor's needs.

"I see," Ingo replied. He had to resist the urge to straighten up, not wanting to loom over the other. "Perhaps I failed to set them on the proper tracks. I would be happy to run a maintenance session with them! With a little more training, they are sure to be formidable partners. I'm sure you will learn a lot from each other as you continue on your journey together."

"No!" Laventon protested immediately. Ingo blinked in surprise at the fervor. "Uh, that is to say, I don't think the problem is their training," Laventon continued, rubbing his head nervously. "I must say it's probably a lack in myself to be able to control their strong personalities."

That was also fixable. Ingo brightened up, voice rising with enthusiasm. "Would you like some guidance? While I don't remember where I came about such skill, many have vouched for my abilities when it comes to battling. I'm sure we could get you in top form and battle ready in no time."

That didn't make Laventon look any more confident. If anything, he looked more uncomfortable at the mere suggestion, face a little pale. "Warden Ingo, while I appreciate your eagerness, battling is not for one such as me. No, my passions are in observing and recording, rather than doing. Perhaps that is my folly in this case."

"That is truly a shame," Ingo said. "I think you would be a fantastic choice for a partner. Your kindness and desire to understand pokemon is admirable. If you ever change your mind, I would be honored to be your conductor for that journey."

Laventon had a bemused look on his face at that, but responded with equal good humor. "Why, thank you! I will be sure to do so. Ah, but that isn't the reason I wanted to talk to you. It may not be much, but I would like you to take this as thanks for your assistance!" With that, he held out the cloth covered bundle between them. He pulled the cloth off dramatically, revealing some steaming buns. "Potato mochi! A delicious delicacy made by our very own Beni. He's holding onto the secret of that recipe, but I do hope to be able to record it someday. Knowledge must be shared, not hoarded! Ah," he paused with a sheepish grin, "look at me rambling on. Please, have one while it's still hot. While normally these are reserved for members of the Galaxy team, I would be delighted if you were to have some as thanks for your help."

Ingo looked at the pale buns, feeling a swell of nerves he couldn't place. He wasn't sure why, but he always had a pang of anxiety when offered food from others. Was it some past trauma that he could not remember? He didn't consider himself a picky eater, and most everything he tried was at least palatable. An offer of food was quite an honor, when it was one of the most coveted resources.

"Indeed," Ingo said, not wanting to appear rude despite his hesitation. "I have heard many people praise these potato mochi before! Though I don't feel I have done much that requires such acclaim, I will certainly partake." He slid a finger against his wrist absently, and was surprised at the lack of resistance. Why had he done that? He looked down at his bare hands for a moment of incomprehension, before pushing the feeling aside and reaching out to take one of the buns.

The texture of the mochi was a bit odd, but the flavor of it was quite good. It was good. So Ingo had no idea why his breath was freezing in his lungs, or why his throat was so tight. He tried to work his jaw, to at least swallow the mouthful so he could thank the professor properly, but all he managed to do was to grind his teeth together a fraction. The urge to cough was rising, or to gag, and behind that Ingo could sense that if he didn't so something soon, he was likely to throw up.

Desperately, he tried to keep his breathing under control. He had to close his throat against the distressed noise that wanted to escape, not wanting to call attention to his plight. But his eyes were starting to water. And he could not swallow, he knew he couldn't, even if he could somehow magically unfreeze himself in the moment, he was not going to be able to recover from this. He hadn't even realized he was hunching further over until a hand met his shoulder, and he jerked backward in alarm.

Laventon also jerked back, not expecting the sudden move. "My dear man, are you okay? You look frightful!"

Ingo raised his gaze to meet Laventon's, and that was it. He lurched a few steps away before gagging violently, eyes squeezed shut as his body shuddered. A harsh cough shook him, and was followed immediately by another wave of nausea that left him panting.

"Oh my goodness!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ingo could see the professor hovering, though he didn't reach out to touch him. Ingo could feel his face burn with humiliation. What kind of reaction was that? It was a simple act of kindness, the act of sharing a precious resource, and Ingo had been most shameful about it. He was certainly old enough to handle food he didn't like. Though, he had liked it. Why had he reacted like that?

He straightened, not caring now if he towered over the other. Tugging his hat low over his eyes, he wiped a hand across his mouth. It did nothing to clear the clinging sensations that still threatened to make him gag again. "My deepest apologizes," he said instead, unable to look at Laventon. "I will clean up this mess post haste."

"Warden Ingo, please! Do not worry about that. Are you alright?" Laventon was clutching the plate to his chest while he shifted from foot to foot. "My goodness, I hadn't even thought to ask if you liked any before I offered. It really is my fault."

Ingo wanted to protest, because his inability to properly accept the gift was hardly a failing of the professor, but more than that he wished Laventon would stop hovering and...and reach out. There was a burning desire in him for a comforting hand on his back, for the physical presence of another. Ingo rubbed at his arm, trying to dismiss the phantom sensations, while also dearly wishing they were real. But he wasn't close friends with Laventon, as much as he enjoyed the man's company.

Perhaps, he thought miserably to himself, he had had a parent or companion in his past life who would offer such comforts. It seemed unlikely. Casual touch was not considered polite or encouraged. Not in the clans, nor in the variety of cultures that made up the Galaxy team.

Ingo forced his shoulders to relax, rolling them back to ease the knot of tension in his back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Laventon shuffle backwards a few steps, a nervous look on his face. Swallowing, Ingo sunk into his coat, bending his knees subtly as he shifted his posture around in a way he hoped looked natural. He disliked that he came off as so intimidating to others, and was doing what he could to mitigate it. This episode had likely put him even further in the negative view, however.

"It is not your fault, professor," he finally managed to say. Taking another careful breath, he focused briefly on getting his throat to relax when it started to tighten again. He could not seem to get rid of the sensation! "I do apologize again. It was a kind gesture, one of which I am sorry was wasted in such a way. Perhaps I am coming down with something." The platitude felt sour on his tongue. He knew he was not sick, at least not in terms of a virus or otherwise. The broken state of his mind was not something he could fix, however.

Right now all he wanted to do was retreat to the comfort of the mountains. At least there he didn't feel like he was disappointing people's expectations. At least there Lady Sneasler would greet him with a rough tongue swiping at his hair, determined to get it to stick up in new and interesting ways. At least there he could tend to the sneaslettes, allowing them to climb over him in their rambunctious games. At least there, the clawing loneliness in his chest would ease, if only for a little while.

"Oh dear oh dear," Laventon fretted. "I was going to have you take the rest with you, but I suppose that a fool's endeavor now." He frowned down at the plate. "Ah well, I will have to think of something else I can do to repay you. Are you sure you're okay, old chap?"

Taking another deep breath, Ingo forcefully pulled himself together. He dug into the pocket of his ragged coat, pulling out the cloth he knew was there. It was a matter of a moment to bend over and swipe at the mess on the ground. He bundled the cloth around it, then stuck it deep in his pocket. He'd take care of it later.

"My cab is in working order," he said, avoiding looking at Laventon's face. He tipped his cap again. "If you will excuse me." With that he strode away. It was probably rude of him to leave so abruptly. He couldn't find it in himself to care.

(When the next meal came, Ingo stared at the slices of berry in his hand that he's prepared. Even without trying, he knew he would not be able to eat. The phantom sensations had not stopped. Not the ones that threatened to have him gag around his food. Not the ones that felt like a warm hand on his back, a solid presence in his side.)

#fun times ahead #pokemon #submas #pokemon writing #hard to swallow #i mean i had to cover hisui okay #poor ingo #but i will have a nice chapter to wrap this up

17 notes · View notes

jaehunnyy · 2 years

Text

A/N: missing Jeno hours and my love for gaming brought out the best in me soo, another Jeno floof for me and you all 😈

Once again, it's my precious @sungbeam who supported me and helped me turn this into a better work, so thank you again, Duckie! ❤️ You're sponsoring me at this point haha ^3^

Me or the PS5?

Genre: fluffy fluff, maybe a bit of angst if you really squint?

Word count: 1.1k

Pairing: gamer boyfie!jeno x reader

__________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The shiny, little dots brought by the night were slowly settling on the beautiful sky, glowing in the peaceful darkness. You loved watching the beautiful scenery, the big, clear windows giving you this privilege; though something, rather someone, was missing. You brought your mug close to your lips again, getting drunk in the bittersweet taste of the jasmine tea you were consuming, your taste buds screaming in joy. And the floral smell of your tea somehow reminded you of the missing puzzle piece, which was your boyfriend, Jeno. Since he was mostly spending his time streaming or gaming with his friends, sharing the same apartment seemed like an illusion, because you were always missing him. Nonetheless, he always tried his best in making you feel loved, it wasn't that you felt ignored or anything, you just missed cuddling with him, simply feeling him next to you.

Deciding on making him a cup of tea as well, you made your way to the kitchen, preparing Jeno's favorite mug, a controller shaped one you had gifted him on your third anniversary. While waiting for the water to boil, your gaze unconsciously headed to the little frame placed on the kitchen counter, the little silvery object holding one of your favorite memories: a selca of you and your boyfriend, taken on your second date, your hair adorned with pretty, little snowflakes. You loved winter, and since you had started going out together somewhere in December, the snow was covering the city in its cold breeze. You chuckled softly at the memory of the two of you throwing snowballs at each other, a delightful, chaotic mess being created. But you wouldn't change anything.

Pouring the hot tea into his cup, you moved to his room and were welcomed by your boyfriend's back as he sat on the gaming chair, his fingers smashing the keyboard like it was nothing. His freshly dyed, pink hair seemed to glow in the dim lights of the room, making him look ethereal. His beauty still amazed you and made you feel so glad that he was actually yours.

A conversation between him and his friends caught your attention, settling yourself on the doorstep.

"Hyuck, c'mon, we'd almost lost this round and it's all because of you!" Your boyfriend whined softly, his usual raspy voice being well hidden now.

You smiled at his antics. Haechan's answer could be heard through Jeno's big headphones and you giggled.

"At least be thankful that we won anyway. Should I remind you of all the times you were thinking about Y/N, and you spaced out and forgot how to play?"

You didn't have to see his face to know he was pouting, as silent laughter escaped your lips.

"This… this is different, Hyuck. You can't just blame me like that! I'm just—in love!"

"That isn't an excuse, Lee!" Chenle intervened in the conversation, his dolphin laugh resonating in the big headphones.

Jeno was shy, cheeks powdered with a pink blush, matching his hair. He didn't know if it was the embarrassment—his friends always teasing him about the person he'd become after confessing to you—or just the pure bliss he felt when you traversed his mind. He took off his headphones and put them away somewhere on the table. Turning in the direction of the door, he froze when his dark orbs met your smiley figure waving at him. But seeing you there made him happy.

"Sweetie? How long have you been standing there?" His warm voice echoed through his little gaming space, making you squirm in happiness. You missed him; you lived in the same apartment, yet you still missed his voice like you haven't been in contact with it for ages.

"I've been here since you complained about almost losing the game. Do you ever get tired of your computer? I miss you, baby…" You moved closer to him, handing him his mug. "Here you go, I've made some tea for you. You should rest your eyes for a bit… relax a little."

Hearing your slightly worried voice and glancing at your beautiful face in search of a smile, he couldn't help but feel guilty when he found nothing but sadness. He never meant to make you feel this way; damn, his friends were oftenly grumbling over how distracted he was whenever he thought of you. He absolutely loved you. And he wanted, and needed, to show this to you just as you did to him. Setting his mouse aside, he pulled you into a cozy, warm hug, snuggling his face in your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your vanilla shampoo. You couldn't help but let a smile take over your now lit up face, his lips curling in joy, followed by his crescent shaped eyes. Your hands circled his neck, legs finding their place around his waist, like a little koala who craved attention at its fullest. You weren't planning to let him go again, not today.

"Please stay with me for the rest of the day. I love you so much, Jen." You sniffled, engulfed in his comforting body heat.

"I love you too, angel. Let's cuddle somewhere more comfortable."

He got up from his seat, without disturbing your comfortable position. He carried you to your bedroom, amused by your clingy state. After placing you carefully on the bed, he found his own comfort in the fluffy sheets, as well as in your welcoming arms.

"You're my little koala. I will always protect you," he whispered, his hands finding their way in your hair, playing with the strands.

You sighed in contentment, your arms wrapped around his waist while your head rested on his chest, his fastened heartbeat relaxing you.

"Promise?" You looked at him, his soft gaze almost melting you. How could you get enough of his stare, when his pretty eyes held the whole universe in them? How could you not feel blessed, when the reason behind his joy was no one else than you?

"I promise. We're made for each other, angel. Fate has proven this to us for so long."

Satisfied with his answer, you pressed a sweet, feather-like kiss on his pink lips, euphoria and shivers taking over your bodies.

Legs tangled together, your cuddling session continued until you started to feel sleepy. He kissed your hair and temples softly, then pressed a final kiss to your forehead, mouthing "Have a great sleep, baby." In the end, you realized that he would never choose a game night over you, because he always put the love of his life first.

#jeno fluff #gamer boyfriend jeno #jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #jeno nct dream #jeno soft hours #comfort #jeno x y/n

202 notes · View notes

noir-renard · 2 years

Note

Oh fuck i just found u here and like a week Ang found if u give a bat a burger and it's living rent free in me brain TY SO MUCH LITTLE RED CANDLE DUCKY is a life companion and i can't wait to see that's gonna happen next love you so much ok byee

😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you so much!!! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and the duck. Have a little doodle of Red Hood in the style of Ernie (Sesame Street) with his service duck candle <3 the duck is indeed a life companion ;D

#answered asks #anon #batburger au #if you give a bat a burger #I'm not good at words so I express my affection with pictures ;u;#I'm really glad everyone likes the duck lol <3 #jason todd & duck

147 notes · View notes

zzoguri · 8 months

Text

good evening everyone... "of linked arms and bruised hearts (you are the reason i keep on going)" is finally DONE with its official parts </3 im just having ms. duckie read it just to see if the direction is alright and it will definitely be up some time this week </3

can you believe?!?!?! 71.1k IN TOTAL!?!?!?! (yes part 3 ended up being 24.6k words) literally still in shock with how much i've written tbh!!!

i guess cue the emotional post!!! (oh no!!! not the emotions!!!)

when i first started writing this fic, i had no idea what to expect from the pairing. literally the only thing i knew is that the boy i'm writing about will have that dream about reader LMFAO (iykyk!) and that the dynamic between the two characters will be very banter but still at its core sweet <3

the craziest thing is that this fic would have been for jacob or changmin. i was really deciding which would work out the most but my friend said that the scenes and dynamic i had in mind works best with changmin's personality. and with that, i finally started my silly outline!!!

oof... should i mention that the title originally wouldve been "of method acting and bantering (i'm so glad i found you)" like crazy!?!?! how did we come from that to the current title? well i only finalized it while writing the first half of the outline (which covers like the first two parts of the fic!)

i settled on linked arms and bruised hearts mainly because we know changmin as someone who likes to latch onto the members. the idea of bruised hearts came mainly from how i wrote reader </3 and it just works in tandem! i really think this new one holds more meaning is definitely representative of reader and changmin.

anyway, i should mention that this fic does hold a lot of pieces of me </3 like a lot of aspects or experiences came from what i experienced. there are a lot of little fun facts spread throughout the fic. if you ask me about them, i'd most definitely tell you </3

and most importantly, i like to think that this fic is more of a commemoration of the friendships i have rather than just some romance fic. although there are alot of sweet moments between reader and changmin (that are definitely romantic in nature and definitely some i never experienced), i wrote this fic really focusing on how much i just love friendships. i really think that writing friends to lovers without highlighting the importance of friendships overall would just be a disservice to the trope overall </3

this fic is very personal because it reflects a lot of aspects in my life </3 i'm really glad that i wrote 71.1k words worth of just genuine love and care stored in friendships !! and i'm glad that reader and changmin have each other !!

once again, i want to say thank you for loving this fic as much as i do T___T mainly would like to thank those on my taglist for the support as well <3 i've received some feedback just talking about how much they love the friendgroup or how nice it is to see that soulmates do exist between changmin and reader. it really does mean a lot because this fic took so much time and care to execute </3

of course, the universe is not officially closed since i plan to write the imagines/drabbles found on the series masterlist. and although it is not guaranteed when those will be out, just know that this specific universe will forever live in my heart.

part 3 will drop within the week <3 please look forward to it <3 thank you!!

#zzoguri thoughts #of linked arms and bruised hearts (you are the reason i keep on going)#can you believe it's done?!?#even im sad

15 notes · View notes

justaduckarts · 11 months

Note

Hello, this is not an ask, but I want to thank you. I discovered your stories on archive of our own like... last week ? And I'm just... fan of your stories, I finished Days of Laughs And Nights of Screams some minutes ago, it was incredible. I'm looking forward to read your other stories, I really love them and trust me, I'm not saying all of this only because I'm fan, it can from my heart.

It's been a very long time since I got so much joy while reading fanfictions, so one again, thank you, ducky.

Hello

gebfuiwfdb;ewgesbglk;

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Thank you so much!! I'm so so glad you enjoyed it!! <3 <3 DLNS is really near and dear to my heart and it makes me so happy to see how much people have loved it!

I hope you find my other stories just as fun to read <3

#justaduckarts answers #DLNS #days of laughs and nights of screams

11 notes · View notes

dawnsbreaking · 1 year

Text

you can win - chapter three

pairing: Harry/CMC Rose chapter 3 of 4 chapter word count: 8,015 read on ao3 taglist

The morning of the gala, Rose thought she might be sick.

So much time and effort had gone into this event—it was the culmination of almost an entire year’s work—and there were so many little things that could go wrong.

She was glad for Harry’s offer to pick her up and go with her, for the extra set of hands he’d provide setting up the venue and because it saved her the anxiety of driving on such an important day. Rose was, by nature, an anxious person and jumped at the opportunity to be driven by someone else, even on less momentous occasions.

After a nervous breakfast of plain buttered toast and green tea, Rose went to her closet and pulled out the dress she’d purchased for the event. It had pained her to purchase such a fancy dress rather than renting it, knowing that she had to save for an impending move, but she supposed she could always resell the gown if she found no reason in the future to wear it.

The gown was floor length, made of silky emerald fabric with long chiffon sleeves and a heart-shaped neckline. Besides being her favorite color, the woman who sold her the dress had complimented the way the green brought out Rose’s gray eyes and pale complexion. She unzipped the garment bag just enough to look at the dress one last time before hanging it delicately over the back of a chair by the door.

Harry, like Rose, was a chronic early bird. They were both consistently among the first people in the office building most mornings. So, when he knocked on her door twenty full minutes before she’d told him to arrive, she was unsurprised.

“Hey, sorry. I’m, like, ridiculously early.” Harry told her. He looked like he’d come straight from bed, his hair still feathered in the back from sleep. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Rose grinned, despite her nerves, at his hair. She remembered waking up next to him in the villa, teasing him for the same ducky tail that formed on the back of his head.

“You and me both,” she said, reaching to loop her arms around his shoulders, brushing her fingers through his hair to smooth the cowlick down. “You could have been less early if you’d bothered to brush your hair.”

Harry blushed, whether from the close contact or the teasing Rose wasn’t sure. He joked, “I brushed my teeth, at least.”

Without thinking, Rose pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. They had only kissed twice since the time in her office a few days ago—both on that same night—but she felt at ease with him when it came to physicality. They’d already done all of the awkward boundary-finding before, in the villa.

Beyond the inherent comfort that came from having been together before, though, Harry had always brought out a boldness in Rose that she didn’t experience with other men. She knew that he saw her as an equal and that he wouldn’t feel small if she took control.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. “Let me just—” She took a half step away and retrieved the garment bag with her dress as well as her work tote.

“Let me.” Harry took the garment bag from her and threw it over his arm, taking her now-free hand in his to lead her to his car.

The venue, a rented ballroom inside a public civic centre, was empty when Rose and Harry arrived. According to Rose’s spreadsheet, the first volunteers weren’t slated to arrive for thirty more minutes. However, over-eager morning volunteers usually arrived early.

“Come here,” Rose said, pulling him by the hand to a supply closet.

She handed him her coffee—they had stopped on the way, as promised—and opened the closet door with the set of keys the venue had given her. From it, she pulled a small folding table and two metal folding chairs.

“Let me do that,” Harry protested. But Rose shook her head and set the table up, working quickly so Harry didn’t feel too useless watching with his hands full of drinks.

“Fifteen minute coffee date,” Rose said. “Or, until-my-volunteers-start-showing-up coffee date.”

“Fine by me.” Harry set the coffees down and took a seat, facing Rose.

“Do you remember our first date in the villa?” She asked. “With the cheap champers and rose petals all over the table?”

As a rule, Rose tried to keep talking about Love Island to a minimum. She and Harry seemed matched in their desire to put the reality show behind them. However, she was feeling nostalgic. And the table setup felt somehow familiar. She spoke softly, as if to keep from scaring Harry away with talk of the past.

Harry laughed. “How could I forget? God, I was so nervous. I tore a poor couple of rose petals to shreds.”

“I remember…” Rose shook her head, giggling at the memory. “I thought maybe you didn’t like being on camera, I felt the same way.”

“Nah, it was mostly you that made me nervous. Not anymore, though,” he said. Then, defensive, he added, “I mean, in a good way! I’m comfortable around you but only because we’ve known each other and I think I can read you better now.”

“Shine worn off?” Rose teased.

“Not in the slightest.” Harry gave her a look, suddenly serious. Before Rose could reply, he spoke again. “What’s got you nostalgic?”

“You,” Rose said. Then, “Also, I was thinking about how you asked about my job right off. Like you knew that was important to me.”

“Of course I did! You talked about it really fondly when we were all getting to know each other. I always liked that side of you, the passion you have for the things you care about.”

Rose blushed, glancing away at the heat of his sincerity. “You’re too much for this early.”

“You brought it up,” he countered.

“I also remember you talking about all of your hobbies, how you hadn’t found the right thing yet.” She smiled, remembering the over-eager Harry in the villa, contrasting him to the self-assured man in front of her. “Do you reckon you’ve found the right thing, now?”

Harry smiled wide, clearly pleased she’d remembered such a small detail of something he’d said. “I do, yeah. I really like where I’m at now. It’s not, like groundbreaking, but I’ve found that it’s really validating being good at something.”

“Even if you’re not going down in history?”

Harry paused, thinking for a moment. He reached across the table for Rose’s hand, squeezed it gently. “I’m perfectly content at the moment, making an impression on just a worthy few.”

Once the volunteers arrived, Harry was quickly overwhelmed. In order to keep from getting lost and feeling completely useless, he designated himself Rose’s errand boy for the morning. He stood by her side and followed her around, happy to assist wherever she needed.

It was nice, getting to see Rose in her element. Despite a quiet and calm demeanor, she was naturally at ease giving orders and rallying her troops of volunteers. He could tell she was nervous, but only because he saw her tells. To the outside observer, he imagined she seemed perfectly put-together.

Just after noon, once the tables had been set up and the volunteer rotation changed from the furniture-moving corps to the decorating committee, Rose gave Harry an outside errand.

“Would you mind going to pick up lunch for us? And running to the office supply store? I can put in an order for pickup somewhere close to the store, but I need to accept that I need another clipboard.” She held up the clipboard she’d been using, demonstrating the loose hinge on the clip.

Harry nodded, trying to hide the relief he felt at getting a break from the commotion of setting up the venue. “Sure thing.”

The errand didn’t take long, though, and soon he was back where he started: watching Rose arrange centerpieces.

“Are you going to take a break to actually eat the food I brought you?”

Rose checked her watch. “These volunteers are here for another 20 minutes.”

“Your food’s gonna get cold.”

“I ordered a salad.”

Harry frowned. “Your food’s gonna get hot.”

This earned a small laugh, filling Harry with relief. She’d been a touch more serious than usual in the rush to get everything done and Harry had to fight not to take it personally.

“Twenty minutes,” she told him.

Twenty-three minutes later, the second slot of volunteers had dispersed, either for their own lunch breaks or to go home for the day. Rose joined Harry back at the table which had been pushed into a corner and would surely be put back in the closet before the event began.

“Thank you for this,” Rose said, unwrapping a plastic fork. Harry had unpacked her salad for her, laying it out next to wrapped cutlery and paper napkins. It had done a little to kill the time waiting for her.

Harry swallowed a bite of his sandwich hastily. He hadn’t ordered hot food either. “No problem. When do the volunteers get back?”

Rose checked her watch again. He’d watched her do that roughly three hundred times in the last few hours. “Like, thirty minutes? We have one more set of set-up volunteers to put out the silent auction items and their bid lists. Then we have an hour in-between their slot and the catering setup that will take until the start of the party. You and I will have to get ready during that slot.”

Harry blanched. “Shit. I forgot my suit.”

“Harry!” Rose exclaimed. She was still smiling, though, only half serious. “I made a point to remind you and everything!”

“I know, I know.” Harry frowned. He’d laid the suit out the night before, too, but had forgotten it in his excitement to pick Rose up. “I’m the worst. I’ll have to run home to change.”

“That’s fine, it’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s not?”

“Yeah, as long as you promise to come back.” Rose giggled, scrunching her nose at the absurdity of the notion.

They finished their lunch in companionable silence. Harry could tell that Rose needed a break from all the speaking she’d been doing to volunteers and he was happy to leave her be.

When he was done eating, he folded his sandwich wrapper into a neat square before taking it to the bin. “I’ll be right back, then.”

He came back to the table and pressed a kiss to Rose’s forehead.

She smiled up at him fondly. “See you soon, love.”

When Harry left, Rose was glad for the moment of solitude. As much as she enjoyed his company, she was nervous for the gala and frazzled from shepherding volunteers all morning. It was nice to take a moment to breathe.

Before long, though, the tell-tale creak of the back entrance to the venue sounded again. Rose turned, half expecting it to be Harry having forgotten his keys or something similar.

“Rose?” The voice registered before his form did in the doorway. Rose froze in place.

“Rafi? What are you doing here?”

He walked toward her in long strides. He looked just a bit disheveled, his hair flattened from the baseball cap he always wore while flying. He’d clearly just come from the airport.

“I went home,” he said. “And you weren’t there.”

Rose checked her watch, more as a pacifying movement than for truly checking the time. She wasn’t even sure what to say or where to begin.

“Why…” She didn’t have it in her to finish the sentence. She was afraid of the romantic undertone of this grand gesture.

Rafi took another step closer.

“I’m here,” he said, voice dripping with honey. He spoke like he was reciting a romantic line from one of his films. “I couldn’t miss your party.”

Unable to speak, still, Rose opened and closed her hands nervously as if grasping literally for a way out.

“You can’t just…” She tried, the words fizzling out. “I don’t…”

“Rosie.” Rafi smiled and Rose almost wished she were happy to see him. In many ways it would be easier that way. “I knew you wanted me to be here, so I’m here.”

“This isn’t what I wanted, Rafi,” Rose said, all in one breath. She was partially grateful that the words had shown themselves out from her chest, but partially wary of the finality of the argument that loomed because of them. “I don’t want you here like this.”

All at once, Rafi deflated. It was as if her words had been a physical blow to his gut. He crossed his arms like he needed the protection.

“What do you mean?” He asked. “I came all this way to be here and now you don’t want me here?”

“That’s right,” Rose said. She leveled her voice, sounding a bit like she were speaking to a child. “I wanted you to be here because you wanted to be here, not because you feel like you have to.”

“I want to be here,” he countered. “I’m missing the film festival.”

“And not so you can hold being a good boyfriend over my head, either.” Her voice cracked, but she kept tears at bay. “It shouldn’t be this hard to do the right thing.”

As painful as it was to get the words out, Rose was glad that her vocabulary hadn’t failed her. She was finally able to speak her mind now that she had nothing to lose.

“So what does this mean? Are we…” He gestured between them, a despondent look clouding his eyes.

Rose knitted her brows at him, wishing he’d make the connection without her interception. When he remained silent, she answered in the most straight-forward way she could.

“Yes,” she said. “I think that’s for the best.”

“Can we talk about this? I mean, this can’t just be—“

She interrupted him, “I tried to talk before and you ran away. Now, I have volunteers coming back any minute and a gala to run this evening. We can talk another day but definitely not tonight.”

Rafi pulled his shoulders back and squared his jaw, taking her rejection on the chin. “Fine.”

“Good,” she said.

“I’ll see you at home, then.”

“Right.” Rose wished she didn’t have to go home to him, but she put that aside for the moment, for the sake of her sanity.

She brushed past him, charging to the door. “I’ll show you out.”

Once Rafi was gone, Rose’s brave face went with him. She tucked herself into the employee bathroom and began to cry.

The past few weeks considered, it felt almost cruel to Rose that Rafi would overlook her feelings so thoroughly. Such a grand gesture may have worked before, but she’d hoped that she’d made it clear that her backbone had strengthened recently. It was frustrating and unfair that Rafi’s appearance had rattled her like this. She was supposed to be doing what she did best, reaping the rewards of a year’s difficult work. Instead, she was crying alone in the loo.

Her phone rang and she wiped her tears and sniffed before looking at the screen. Harry.

“Hello?” She tried her best to sound like she hadn’t just been crying.

“Rosie? Are you okay?” Mission failed.

She sniffed again and avoided the question. “What’s up?”

“I just got back, I, um, saw Rafi outside…”

“I know.”

“God,” he said. He sounded as angry as Rose wished she could feel. Her bad moods always tended towards sadness, even if she deserved a little righteous anger now and then.

“He’s not still there is he?”

It was just what she needed, her ex camping outside the venue, scowling at Harry and the returning volunteers.

“No, no. He left.”

Rose sighed, relieved, at least, for that. “Good.”

“Where are you?” Harry asked. “I’m coming in.”

“The catering bathroom, just outside the ballroom on the left.” She caught herself, not even hesitating to tell Harry where she was. It was a nice dynamic, feeling comfortable enough at the prospect of him comforting her.

“Okay.” He hung up without another word and a knock on the door soon followed.

“Come in,” Rose called.

She was sitting on the edge of the sink counter, a crumpled tissue cradled in her lap. Rose was sure that she looked terribly pathetic. This feeling intensified when she saw the worry in Harry’s eyes as he opened the door. Her second thought, following the shame of him having to see her like this, was that he looked incredibly cute in his formalwear.

He rushed to her side, taking her shaking hand in his. “Oh, Rosie…”

Being that she cried easily at almost every emotion, Rose was used to people dismissing her feelings. Telling her that she cried too much or for silly reasons. It had become a part of her public persona, a meme for fans of Love Island. She was used to people looking right past her while she cried—Rafi very much included.

But Harry never did. On the show, when she’d cried in front of him just because she’d been tired and overwhelmed, even when they were just friends. He’d always tried to see her. Rose hadn’t realized his care until that moment, when the worry in his eyes struck her as deeply familiar.

Harry was sure that Rafi had caught him staring. Though, he wasn’t doing so out of malice, but sheer confusion. He hadn’t seen Rafi in person in so long—though he’d seen him in stupid movie trailers a regrettable number of times—it took Harry a moment to place him out of context.

Besides, Rafi was supposed to be in Italy for an indie film festival.

“What are you doing here?” Rafi called. A fake movie-star smile plastered on his face, as if Harry couldn’t guess at the anger in his tense shoulders.

With boldness he couldn’t quite trace the origins of, Harry called back, “I could ask you the same, dude. I thought you were out of town.”

His voice was miraculously level, he completed the illusion of calm by stuffing his shaking hands into his pockets as he took a step forward.

“I was. I came back for Rose’s gala.” Rafi puffed up his chest.

“Did you talk to her?”

For just a moment, Harry worried that Rafi had talked Rose into letting him come to the gala. Or worse, Rafi’s grand gesture had worked and he’d somehow made up with Rose. Harry wasn’t sure where the latter option left him.

To Harry’s relief, Rafi visibly deflated. He looked Harry up and down, seeming to decide whether or not to give him the satisfaction of an explanation.

“I’m going home, now,” Rafi said, finally. “Have a good night.”

As soon as Rafi was gone, tucked into an expensive rental car and driving back to his flat, Harry called Rose.

She answered right away, gave him her location in a tearful voice. He went right away. Scorched earth, in a rage, almost forgetting to knock on the women’s bathroom door.

He softened immediately at the sight of her, all the fire inside of him doused by a more immediate desire to comfort. He’d never been like this before her—soft, worried about another person’s feelings so thoroughly.

“Oh, Rosie…” He crouched, balancing on his toes to keep his nice suit pants from touching the bathroom floor. He took her hand both for comfort and balance.

Harry held her hand in his, quiet as she collected herself enough to tell him what happened. He looked up, tracing the line of her worried brows down to wet eyelashes veiling stormy gray eyes.

In the villa, he remembered being tempted to talk her out of her feelings and running from disagreements. He remembered not having the strength to weather tinier storms, then, how he’d felt out of control and out of depth with smaller problems. Something within him had bolstered, so slowly he hadn’t even noticed the change as it was occurring.

“Did you know he was coming?” Harry was certain he already knew the answer, but it felt like the most obvious question to start with.

Rose shook her head, wiping her eyes with the crumpled tissue in her free hand. “No, he just showed up.”

“Did he say something to make you cry?”

“No…” She shook herself, finally meeting his eyes. “It’s the bittersweetness of it all. Like, the fact that he flew all the way here but it doesn’t matter. The fact that I don’t even want him here anymore.”

Harry nodded, encouraging her. She was always choosy with her words but he knew that she was especially worried about saying the right thing in this moment to capture all of what she was feeling.

She continued, “It’s a lot harder to deal with the relationship ending when I’m not confronted with the good bits. He made an effort to fix things—a poor, last-minute effort—but it was an effort, nonetheless.”

“That makes sense.” He squeezed her hand, ran a thumb across her knuckles, waited for better, more encouraging words to find him.

Rose squeezed his hand back. “This doesn’t change anything, you know? With us…”

The words hung in the air between them as Rose searched his face, seeming to look for any reservations. He had none. Harry trusted her. Her Turning Rafi away at the door had shown him that much.

What remained was the rest of it. The conversation with Rafi to make the break-up official, the defining of relationship conversation that Harry would have to have with her after, the moving boxes to pack the last two years of her life into. Despite the excitement and relief that Harry felt for finally having her, everything else loomed just over the horizon.

He wanted to tell Rose that he would shoulder the burden, that he’d happily help her pack and carry boxes up and down stairs, that he’d hold her through all of it, that his romantic feelings were incidental to the care he felt for her as a human being.

“I know,” he told her, wishing he could manage grander turns of phrase, placing hope in the value of his hand holding hers in the silence.

Beyond the dramatics, there was still the gala to attend to, and Rose couldn’t let the situation with Rafi ruin any part of it for her.

Comforted by Harry’s sweet understanding, Rose returned to the ballroom and to the volunteers. As she worked, the stress of everything before faded into the background. Harry helped, leading the volunteers as he’d watched Rose do for the first half of the day. Setup was done in record time, and Rose found solace in her own aptitude for her work.

When time came to get ready, she was grateful that Harry had changed before her.

“Come with me,” she said.

Harry took her outstretched hand, following her wordlessly and without protest. She led him back to the catering bathroom, bringing with her the makeup she’d packed the night before and her dress in its garment bag.

“My favorite part about being an event organizer,” she told him, swinging the door open with the back of her arm, “is the privilege of knowing all the hiding places at big parties.”

Rose had never been a fan of big parties. In school, she’d been dragged kicking and screaming by her brother to every party she ever attended. She was a wallflower at best, well versed in the art of the untimely Irish goodbye at worst. It had been a surprise to most of her friends and family when she’d become a party-planner professionally.

It had been an even greater surprise when she’d applied for Love Island.

What people didn’t understand was that by inherently hating parties, Rose had become master of them. She could make events painless for others because she’d spent her formative years thinking of all the ways parties could be painful.

Some part of her believed that this principal had won her Love Island, too. She’d been too anxious to be herself the whole time, spent the summer trying to seem like the perfect girl instead of having fun. Had fallen into the best looking love story rather than chasing after the person she fancied most.

While it hadn’t all been an act, necessarily, Rose’s time on Love Island had in some ways been a practice in hospitality. She’d packaged herself into a product and sold a service, at the end of the day.

“Are you planning on hiding much of the night?” Harry asked.

Rose smirked, shrugging cooly. “Maybe a little of the night.”

While Rose unpacked her makeup next to the sink, Harry hopped up onto the bathroom counter to watch her. He’d steered clear of the dressing rooms for the most part in the villa, scared away by threats from AJ and Gen, but he’d always enjoyed watching girls—Rose especially—put on their makeup. There was a subtle magic to it, something in the sum of all the the steps that Harry didn’t feel quite privy to since he’d never learned the skill.

“Hey, you’re taking up my counter-space.” Rose protested, glaring facetiously as he made himself comfortable up against the mirror.

Harry made no move to remove himself from the counter. “I’ll hold things if you need me to.”

She rolled her eyes, but accepted, plopping her makeup bag in his lap before continuing to rifle through it for the first step in her routine.

“How are you feeling?” He asked when she took a step to the side, having found what she was looking for. Waiting for her reply, he busied his hands playing with a tassel on the zipper of the bag in his lap.

She certainly seemed better, but Harry wasn’t quite all the way comfortable yet. Since Rafi’s unexpected arrival, their relationship had taken on a gaseous form, like it could dissipate like fog any moment.

“I think I’m doing alright,” Rose said. She came back to the makeup bag, dropping the bottle she’d been using back in. Instead of going for the next, she lingered, placing her hands on Harry’s knees. “How are you feeling?”

Harry startled. He hadn’t expected her to ask.

She spoke again before he could answer, “It’s okay if you’re shaken up, too.”

“Oh.” Harry reached to his neck and pulled the tie he was wearing away just a bit, as if he needed more air. “I was a bit shaken up, I think. But it’s okay. Really has nothing to do with me, does it?”

Rose frowned, seeing right past his play at nonchalance. “It does have to do with you. If you have feelings about it, that is.”

“I’m alright, Rosie. It’s just that the timing of Rafi coming back is abysmal,” he said, using a dramatic, fancy word that Rose would usually tend toward. Abysmal. He was beginning to sound like her.

“Exactly that,” she agreed. “But I meant what I said.”

She brushed a hand through his hair, searched his face for words unsaid. Finding none, she sighed and leaned her head to rest on his shoulder.

“Tired?” He asked.

“Exhausted.”

“You’re not getting makeup on my suit, are you?”

Rose pulled back, giggling. “No, I literally just washed my face and nothing else.”

“Ah.” Harry blushed. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

“Clearly.” She lingered in his personal space for a moment longer, tracing a line with her thumb from his ear to his jaw. Harry loved watching her watch him. Loved watching her try to solve him like a puzzle.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. He also loved cutting to the chase.

Rose had worried that getting ready in front of Harry would ruin the effect of a grand reveal. She was happy to be proven wrong.

When she’d finished her makeup and curled her hair, Rose took the garment bag in hand. She checked her watch. It was almost time for the next round of volunteers and catering to arrive, getting them settled into their jobs for the night would lead all the way up to the beginning of the event.

“Do you want me to step out?” Harry asked, looking pointedly at the garment bag.

Rose shrugged. “You saw me in a bikini every day for two months. Up to you.”

Out of either some sense of obligation toward purity or for the sake of being contrary, Harry hopped down from the bathroom counter and made for the door.

“I’ll be outside.” He kissed her forehead on the way out.

One of Rose’s favorite parts of being in the villa had been the outfits. She loved wearing fancy dresses to casual cocktail parties at the end of every week. By the finale, Rose had also had to begin trading dresses with the other girls to disguise the fact that they were all running out of clothes. She’d loved that, too, and the illusion of intimacy and close friendship that the villa had created between them.

Though it was much less common for her, now, Rose still loved getting dressed up. And she still loved the look on Harry’s face when he saw her finally.

“This dress?” He reached for one of her gossamer sleeves, feeling the fabric as he took a step closer. “You look gorgeous.”

"You think?" Rose beamed. She loved the way she could see all the cogs turning in his mind as he looked at her. It was like she could read his thoughts.

"Give me a spin." Harry took her hand and spun her around. They'd danced before, in the villa, Rose had forgotten until that moment. Under twinkle lights, at Love Island prom. He'd stolen her from Rafi for a friendly dance at the end of the night. She remembered feeling so safe and warm with everyone together and finally getting along.

"You look really lovely," he said, admiring her still. "Really, Rosie."

She blushed at his easy sincerity. Rose felt she may never get over the way he always said exactly what he was thinking.

"Ground rules," she said, earning a questioning look, "you can't muss my hair or ruin my makeup. Or do anything that might wrinkle or endanger my dress."

"Okay?" Harry looked like he might be catching on, but let her continue.

She took his hand, pulling him down the hall, stopping just short of a metal door and turned to face him. She raised up on tip-toes to whisper, "If you accept my terms, you can make out with me in this storage room."

Harry's confusion turned to a sly smirk. He held out a hand for her to shake. "You've got a deal."

Harry's head was spinning as he followed Rose into the supply room.

If it had not been for the very real dilemmas that had followed them throughout the past few days, Harry would think that he was dreaming.

Rose herself was like a vision from his dreams. Ethereal moon-glow skin against a mossy green dress, makeup glittering on her cheeks under the florescent lights, hair falling artfully around her pretty face.

Soft lips wearing nothing but sheer chapstick.

"You're gorgeous," he told her again, pressing a hand to her back as if to push her faster into the private room.

Rose skipped out of his grasp, giving a cutesy twirl as she escaped him to lock the door behind them. When she returned, she threw her arms over his shoulders, letting her wrists rest against his neck. He could hear her watch ticking against his ear, reminding him of how little time he had, despite wishing he could keep her to himself all night.

"Where am I allowed to touch you?" He asked, blushing when the question sounded much more suggestive than he'd intended. "I mean, so as not to endanger your dress."

"Here." She guided his hands to her waist. "Just try not to ruffle me too much."

Harry laughed. "I'll make a valiant effort, I promise."

He kissed her, carefully pressing her against him so as not to leave evidence of the encounter. Harry wanted more of her, though, wished that he could take her home in the dress and quickly see her out of it.

The kiss, like many others Harry and Rose had shared in the past few days, was familiar in its way. Her smell—tart apples and sweet roses—was quickly working up the ranks to becoming Harry's favorite scent. The mix was nostalgic and intoxicating, only missing the coconut scented sunscreen she’d lathered on in the villa.

She pulled herself closer to him. Harry had always loved the way she'd smiled against his mouth when he kissed her. The way her hands went straight to his hair.

Harry pulled back, managed a breathy chuckle. "You're allowed to muss my hair?"

"Absolutely." Rose didn't give him the opportunity to reply, kissing him again with renewed enthusiasm.

He shuddered as her tongue sweetly parted his lips, as she threaded her hands through his hair again and pulled, just to tease him.

"Double standards." Harry tutted as he pulled away again, wishing he didn’t have to come up for air.

She rolled her eyes at him. “You’re not the one who has to give a speech. I can’t look like I’ve just been snogging someone in a spare room.”

Behind Rose, there was a spare dining table that looked suitably sturdy. Harry ushered her back a few steps to the edge of the table before swiftly picking her up and depositing her on the table’s surface.

Rose let out a surprised squeak, then giggled at herself before returning to her stern conceit. “You’re getting a little ruffle-y, there, babe. Mind treating me with care?”

He parted her legs as much as the gown would allow and stood between them. Visions of green velvet dresses on his bedroom floor danced before him. Mussed hair and smeared makeup. Rose Prichard, laid bare before him, in his bed, not thinking about Rafi or party planning or anything but how much she wanted all of this too.

“I don’t mind at all.” He kissed her jaw, trailed kisses down her neck and to her exposed collarbone. If he didn’t have so much respect for how hard she’d worked in service of the gala, he’d be more tempted to leave a mark. As it stood, he was content with the thought that he may someday be able to mark her wherever he liked.

“God,” she muttered. “I really wish we weren’t in a glorified closet right now.” She paused for a beat, laughed. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind too much if we had more time.”

Harry leaned back, studying her. She looked disappointingly put-together—kissed pink lips were the only evidence of his handiwork. She checked her watch, sparing a guilty glance up at Harry as untangled herself from his arms.

“Time’s up, loverboy.” She pecked his lips and smoothed his hair back down before hopping down from the table and adjusting her skirt. “Could have done with a bit less mussing, though.”

“I think considering all the things I want to do to you and that dress, you should be thanking me.” He brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, letting his hand linger against her warm cheek.

She tugged his collar back into place and straightened his tie. She’d done a fair bit of mussing herself. “You’re right. All things considered, you were very good.”

“How are you feeling now?” Harry was unsure how much he’d be able to see her and talk to her for the rest of the night, he wanted to know that she was truly alright and not just putting on a show. “You seem in better spirits.”

She took his hand, gave him a convincing smile. “I’m just relieved that the gala is happening. I’ll get to rest on my laurels for, like, at least a month before I have to start planning the next one.”

“And about Rafi?”

“Not thinking about Rafi at all.” She squeezed his hand, started pulling him to the door. “I’ve gotta meet the caterers.”

The first half of the gala passed Rose by in a blur. She was pulled in a hundred different directions, by other members of her organization, by a problem with the catering company, by attendees who knew her from the name on the invitations and wanted a better picture of the girl behind the signatures.

By the time she gave her welcome address, a smaller, more logistical version of the welcome address by the president of the organization that she followed, she had shifted into auto-pilot. After checking in with the caterers again, Rose finally seated herself for dinner. She shared a round table at the front of the room with a handful of other staff, as well as Harry.

Harry, for his part, seemed to be thriving. He'd mostly been left alone, introducing himself as a volunteer or a friend of the organization if asked. Rose hadn't had to ask him not to hint at the fact that something was going on between them. The public nature of Rose's relationship with Rafi was obviously a hurdle to him, and he did his best to keep people from asking questions.

It wasn't until she was seated for dinner that Rose was finally questioned beyond her ability to artfully evade.

"I thought your boyfriend would be coming,” Marisol, a volunteer coordinator and administrative assistant for the organization, commented. "I'm a fan of his work, you know."

Rose resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Marisol had worked her love for Rafi’s worst film, Liar Liar Pants on Fire, into almost every conversation Rose had engaged in with her. And the one time Marisol had seen Rafi with Rose at the office, she'd nearly broken a bone hustling down the hall to say hello.

“He couldn’t make it,” Rose said, swallowing the desire to tell the truth just to earn the privilege of holding Harry’s hand under the table.

Maybe she’d introduce Rafi and Marisol, once all was said and done.

“That’s a shame.” Marisol turned to Harry and offered a hand for him to shake, recovering her manners. “You’re Rose’s friend-date, then?”

“Yeah! Harry Zhōng.” He gave her hand a sturdy shake, not missing a beat. “I actually work in the same building as you, too.”

“Oh yeah? You do look familiar…”

Rose and Harry exchanged a look. It was entirely possible that Marisol hadn’t seen their season of Love Island, but fans of Rafi’s were usually fans of the show.

“I’m a programmer on the sixth floor, you might have seen me on your way to Rose’s office.”

“Huh!” Marisol laughed. “Small world.”

“Big office building,” Rose offered.

Similar encounters followed as the other seats at the table were filled. Harry repeated the same lines, shook hands with Rose's coworkers, generally did a great job of being a sweet, unobtrusive party guest. When Rose had to duck away from dinner for another catering emergency, she felt completely comfortable leaving him alone.

"I'm sorry, I know this is stupid," the caterer, a handsome man named Jake Wilson, told her when she entered the kitchen, "But I need someone to help lift one of the cakes from the walk-in. One of my guys called out sick.”

Rose looked Jake up and down, hands on her hips. She wanted to scold him for not telling her sooner, but she knew that this was likely as stressful an event for him as it was for her. She sighed, "I'll get someone."

"Thank you! Sorry again," Jake called after her, already leaving the kitchen in a hurry.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked when she returned to the table.

"Yeah, not a big deal." Rose smiled at her coworkers, not wanting them to worry for anything being wrong. "Would you come help me, actually?"

Harry excused himself, dropping his napkin from his lap onto the table. "Of course."

"It's really not a big deal," Rose assured him.

"Oh, so you do actually need my help?" Harry chuckled. "I kind of thought you were just sneaking away."

She gave him a sideways glance. "I need you to help the caterer lift the cake from the freezer onto a rolling cart. No big deal."

"What if I drop the cake and ruin your gala?"

Away from the main ballroom and hidden in the hallway, Rose was free to let her guard down a bit. She grabbed Harry's sleeve and gave it a playful tug as she tried to manage a stern tone of voice. "You better not drop the cake."

"Will you forgive me if I do? I think I'll be less nervous knowing there's an opportunity for redemption." Harry made his best puppy eyes at Rose, barely able to keep from laughing out loud as he did so.

Rose laughed. "Yeah, best I can do is promise I won't literally kill you."

"I'll take it."

They shared a laugh as they swung open the kitchen doors. Rose felt the stress of the gala fading into the background as she spoke with Harry. She loved how easily he brought her out of her shell and made her want to laugh and make jokes.

"I've brought you help," Rose called, knowing that Jake was right around the corner. "He's not the strongest lad but he'll do in a pinch."

"Hey," Harry muttered. He pretended to elbow Rose in the side. "I'm plenty strong, thank you very much."

Jake came back around from the hallway with the walk-in cooler. He jutted a thumb behind him. "Cake's this way."

Rose followed, knowing she probably wouldn't be much help but wanting to supervise the cake being moved anyway. Her anxiety wouldn't let her leave the boys to it. She joked with Harry again as they walked, "Pinky promise you're not gonna drop the cake?"

In response, Harry held out a pinky behind him for Rose to shake as they walked. She did so with some difficulty, giggling as she tried to grab hold of the digit on his moving hand.

"You're in a much better mood than you were two minutes ago," Jake remarked.

While she was startled by the observation, she knew he was right. And, by nature of having catered every gala Rose had been involved with, Jake spoke with authority. He’d seen her in much worse moods.

“Not worse than the year before last, though, right?” She asked, artfully changing the subject. That year, her boss had been sick and she’d had to do twice the work. Jake had walked in on her crying inside of the walk-in freezer.

“Right.” Jake laughed. “I’m just glad to see you really enjoying one of these things for once.”

Harry did not drop the cake.

In fact, he thought he’d done an incredible job of being Rose’s date. He was especially proud of the way that he was able to dodge questions about Rafi and not arouse any suspicion about Rafi and Rose’s impending breakup.

Because of Rafi’s fame, it was possible that the public breakup would become a scandal. It had been almost a little painful to friend-zone himself so thoroughly for the night, but it was entirely worth it if it saved Rose some heartache.

Besides, he felt a little like a secret agent on a mission not to disclose his true identity.

“I’m so tired,” Rose said, finding him lingering on the outskirts of a conversation with some volunteers. She’d been popping in and out of his vicinity all night, constantly being called away either to mingle with guests or by varied, ridiculous mini-catastrophes behind the scenes.

The gala had finished with its silent auction and the organization’s president had given her final remarks. The cleanup volunteers were waiting by the walls to descend upon dirty tables like hungry lions observing their prey. Harry could tell that they were as ready to finish with the gala and leave as he was—and none of them had been there as long as he and Rose had.

“Home stretch?” He asked.

Rose nodded. “Yeah, and technically I don’t have to stay for cleanup. That’s Marisol’s jurisdiction.”

“So we get to leave soon?” Harry did his best not to sound too eager, for her sake. He didn’t want her to think he was put out by having to be there all day. Getting to spend time with her and be there for her in a meaningful way had far outweighed the strain of essentially volunteering for twelve straight hours.

Rose gave him a sly look. “I’m gonna say goodbye to my coworkers and then we can slip out.”

“I’ll be here, waiting with baited breath.”

He watched the internal struggle of her wanting to touch him play out on her face and in her unsteady hands. She settled for squeezing his bicep in a friendly-seeming gesture, a shy blush forming on her face before she ducked away.

Before long, she’d returned, the garment bag from her dress and her tote slung over her arm. She nodded toward the door. “Let’s get out of here, before someone decides they need me.”

Harry resisted the urge to take her hand as he led her out to the parking lot. He waved his goodbyes to the volunteers and guests he’d briefly become acquainted with as he scurried out the staff entrance behind Rose.

“You are amazing at your job,” Harry told her, once they were safely tucked away in his car. “Like, that was so lovely.”

Rose beamed. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Harry took her hand in his and pulled it toward him to rest their intertwined hands on his thigh. “Objectively that was the best charity gala I’ve ever been to.”

“You’ve not been to any other charity galas, have you?”

“That’s besides the point entirely.”

“I appreciate it,” Rose said, laughing at his joke. She leaned back against the headrest, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh. “Now, as a reward for my hard work, I’ve got to go home and break up with beloved movie-star Rafi Sayed.”

“Eh, have you seen Buff Ninja? He can’t possibly be that beloved.” Harry gave her a mischievous look. “Like, come on.”

“I went to the premiere red carpet for Buff Ninja.” Rose laughed again, despite herself. “But I’ve heard it’s got a thriving fanbase in some dark little corners of the internet, so.”

Harry raised her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to the base of her thumb. “Are you worried about what people will think?”

She considered for a moment, staring up at the car’s ceiling in silence. Then, she shook her head decisively. “I trust Rafi enough to know that he wouldn’t make me look bad. Even if people are upset, he’ll defend the fact that the breakup was mutual, I think.”

“That’s good.” He kissed her wrist, swallowed air as he psyched himself up to ask the next question. “You don’t think that it’ll look bad if you’re immediately with someone else?”

Rose turned, eyes flickering over Harry’s face as if she was seeing him for the first time. They had been so preoccupied with Rose’s side of the situation, that it seemed both of them had failed to consider the optics where Harry was concerned. She ghosted her free hand against the side of his face like she was wiping away invisible tears, trying to smooth the worry from his jaw.

“As long as you’re alright not posting about us for a couple of weeks, I think everything will be fine,” she said, finally. Harry could tell that it was a difficult ask for her, knowing that she hated the idea of having a secret worth hiding.

Harry wouldn’t mind, though, he thought. After everything, some part of him enjoyed the idea of keeping her to himself for a while. -

thank you all for reading and for the kind comments!! the next chapter will be just a short epilogue, so this is technically the ending. I'm posting it very quickly because it was all pre-written but I am also a really big fan of how it turned out. hope you enjoyed <3

tags: @starsarestars@lasswithumor@fujihime-litg@future-mrs-suresh

25 notes · View notes

diana-fortyseven · 2 years

Text

It's May Game Update Day!

Patch Notes

Let's talk about the Patch Notes!

(Long, long post!)

New Content

Long Live Easter

Unlock the Yellow Rabbit Suit by revisiting the Berlin Egg Hunt and completing the new ‘Duck Hunt’ challenge.

I know that people really wanted the version with the mask (I didn't, but I'm happy for you), but I'm mainly excited to see them adding new challenges.

Should I get my hopes up for a few new challenge packs?

Five Quacks

Enter the Elusive Target Arcade and complete a newly-added challenge to unlock The Ducky Gun.

I have a soft spot for rubber duck themed weapons, so of course I'm excited to see this one. It quacks with every shot, how cute is that??

While I actually enjoy the Elusive Target Arcade, I'm not too excited about this batch; they're targets we had so many times already... Let's see if the complications make them fun to play.

Ray Tracing on PC

Cool cool. I play on console, so I don't care. But I'm happy for you.

Adaptive Supersampling

Sames.

New Additions

Player Profile Limit

We’ve increased the maximum Player Profile level from 5,000 to 7,500 and introduced new visual representations of the profiles to support this new level cap. Malus Necessarium (01 – 2,500) Ius Obscurus (2,501 – 5,000) Mortifer Velocis (5,001 – 7,500)

That's actually awesome! I'm still far, far away from needing it (still below level 1,000, but I'm getting there), but it means they're future-proofing the thing. I like it.

I know there are some people out there who hit the level cap, curious to see if the new level cap gives them room to grow again.

Mono Audio

We’ve added an option to enable Mono Audio in the Audio menu.

That's a good accessibility feature. I don't need it, but I'm glad it's here.

Instinct Kill Conditions

We’ve made some changes to how kill conditions are displayed in Instinct during gameplay. Instinct kill conditions are now also displayed when playing Escalations, including Seven Deadly Sins content. Default conditions (Any Disguise / Any Method) are always hidden from the Instinct kill conditions

Thank you!! That's a really useful change!

Subtitle Background

We’ve added an option to enable a background for the game’s subtitles and choose the opacity.

That's good!

Master Difficulty

We’ve tweaked the Master Difficulty for HITMAN 3, to add more cameras and enforces – to give you the ultimate challenge. Dartmoor and The Carpathian Mountain are the only locations without added cameras.

I like that! I usually play on Professional, but I do love a challenge from time to time.

FIXES

STABILITY

Overall Stability

We’ve improved stability across all platforms, especially on Xbox platforms and Nintendo Switch.

Cool, I hope that also includes Landslide on PS4 and PS5, because it always crashes...

Resize Crash

We’ve resolved an issue where some PC players could encounter a crash when resizing the active game window.

Happy for all PC players.

Disguise Reload

We’ve resolved an issue that could cause the game to crash when players would attempt to change their disguise and reload their weapon (or pick up an item) at the exact same time.

Weird issue. Never had that.

Striker A Pose

We’ve updated the challenge image for the Arcade – Track 2 challenge to reflect the weapon that players will earn by completing it.

No more whining about it on Reddit, yeah!

Double Up

We’ve resolved an issue where the game could crash when players acquire a weapon from a smuggled briefcase, whilst already having that same item in their inventory. The issue would only occur when using unique items found within a map.

Never had this happen either, but I'm glad it's gone. Trophy Troubles

We’ve resolved issues that would prevent players from unlocking these trophies/achievements: Icebreaker, Pure Poetry.

Cool. Let's hope they also fixed the ingame challenge I Find This Amoosing, or the Reddit population will be very, very angry.

UI / UX

Inventory Limit

We’ve resolved an issue where some players would experience items missing from their inventory during the planning phase.

Oh, thank god! The 200 item limit was painful!

Menu Mastery

We’ve resolved a visual issue with how Mastery tracks displayed unlockable items. Naming conventions will now be consistent across all tracks.

I like consistency.

[Optional] Fix

We’ve resolved an issue where the planning page for Contracts Mode did not always show whether a complication was optional, or not. Now, the [optional] tag will be shown when appropriate.

That's really good to hear! No more clicking back a million times to check.

Zero Leaderboards

We’ve resolved an issue where some players would see a ‘Complete this mission to be listed on the leaderboard’ message after completing a mission. This was an error only evident when players scored 0 points during a mission.

Glad to see people who scored 0 points get their well-earned spot on the leaderboards now.

Color me intrigued

We’ve added colors to communicate better what complications are failed, and which are completed.

I like that addition! Makes it easier to spot failure. (:

Shoulder Swapped

Our all-time favorite Shoulder Swap option has been moved to Gameplay -> General, to fit in with all the other gameplay related options.

Makes sense. I don't care though.

AUDIO

Footshhhhhhteps

We’re resolved an issue where Xbox One users were able to experience the true Silent Assassin experience, where Agent 47’s footsteps were completely silent. We’ve reverted this back to the intended experience, but it’ll still count as SA (Suitably Audible).

(Love the puns)

Loud Eliminate

We’ve resolved an issue where non-silenced pistols could not be heard when fired when using the ‘eliminate’ prompt behind a character.

I don't use non-silenced pistols, so I wasn't even aware of that.

Say THAT Again

We’ve resolved an issue where Diana’s dialogue was noticeably lower in volume during the beginning of some missions, notably the campaign missions in Hawke’s Bay and Mendoza.

Listen to our queen! <3

ACCOUNT

Game Pass Deluxe

We’ve resolved an issue where some Game Pass subscribers could not download their Deluxe Edition content through IOI Account.

Now that sounds annoying.

GAMEPLAY

Odium Glass

We’ve resolved an issue where the sunglasses on the Odium Suit (Seven Deadly Sins: Envy) were floating and following 47 around the map, rather than protecting his eyes from the Hokkaido sun. Now, they’ll be worn as you’d expect.

I don't think I've ever used this suit outside of Envy... I should make him wear these things more often.

Polar Properties

We’ve resolved an issue that caused the Polar Survival Suit to not function like a regular suit. For example, it was considered as trespassing in zones that should be safe, wasn’t being enforced correctly or was unable to perform certain actions.

Ohhh, I missed out on this weird phase.

My Name is Jefe

We’ve tweaked a few things to make sure that the man known only as ‘Jeff’ is always present on maps for Contracts Mode creation and on created Contracts.

That's good. It was a pain to replay all of Patient Zero just to have him in one contract.

Elusive Target Arcade Intel

We’ve fixed the issue where intel found in any Elusive Target Arcade missions did not award players experience. They do now!

I totally thought that was intentional. Gad we gain experience now!

Elusive Target Arcade the first batch

Our first batch of Elusive Target Arcade had many complications on them. These have been removed to match the new version of less restricted Elusive Target Arcades.

Cool! I know some people were a big fan of these complications, but I just want to play Elusive Targets whenever I want to, without having to jump through hoops that limit me in my creativity.

HITMAN 3 LOCATION-SPECIFIC CHANGES

DUBAI

Unstuck

We’ve resolved an issue where 47 could get stuck in the floor, after hiding a body in a specific area of the penthouse.

Oh I know that specific area!

DARTMOOR

Texture Ceiling

We’ve resolved an issue where the textures in the ceiling near the main entrance could flicker.

Never noticed that, but I'm glad it's gone. My immersion!

Not Amoosed

We’ve resolved an issue where the ‘I Find This Amoosing’ challenge did not unlock.

THANK GOD!

CHONGQING

Rage Quit

We’ve made sure that all guards in Chonqging are fully briefed on which disguises are allowed into certain areas. In the past, 47 was being prevented from entering, despite wearing a suitable disguise.

Glad to hear the guards now know how to do their job. :) All Seeing Eyes

We’ve resolved an issue where important dialogue during the ‘All Seeing Eyes’ Mission Story was sometimes not triggered or displayed in subtitles.

Ohhhhh good! I could never hear anything during that mission story! This will be the first thing I do when the servers are back up! Rainy Days

We’ve resolved an issue where outdoors sounds, namely rainfall, can be heard in the lower levels of the facility.

I'm sure the workers liked the ambience. (:

MENDOZA

Jamen Dog

We’ve resolved an issue where 47 was unable to enter certain areas when wearing a disguise that should have been allowed. His name number wasn’t on the list.

Now I'm curious to find out where I'm allowed to go now in which disguise.

A meet W

We’ve resolved an issue where two specific characters in Mendoza had single-letter names when selected as targets in Contracts Mode.

So make it one.

CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS

Long Journey

We’ve resolved an issue that could cause players to fall off the train when trying to climb onto the roof in a specific spot.

That was hilarious though.

WORLD OF ASSASSINATION FIXES

As well as changes to HITMAN 3, we’ve also listed various improvements or changes to HITMAN 1 and HITMAN 2 locations, when played in HITMAN 3.

Sapienza: Dirty Hands

We’ve fixed a typo the in ‘Getting Your Hands Dirty’ challenge description, where it was incorrectly stated that players must “Assassinate [target] during the meeting the on pier.”

Wow, I never noticed that! Glad it's fixed now. I like a polished game. :) Sapienza: Plant Man

We’ve resolved an issue where players could get stuck in an unplayable area by traversing over plant pots in the cemetery.

He's free now!

Isle of Scat1620: Missing Grey

We’ve resolved an issue where Lucas Grey was missing from the Isle of Sgail opening cutscene.

Oh! That wasn't supposed to be a self-steering boat!? New York: Flamingo Feet

We’ve resolved an issue where one of the IT workers in the bank had lost their flamingo slippers. You’ll never guess where we found them.

This is the best fix of all of them! That was my favourite disguise in H2 because of the cool flamingo slippers, and I was so mad to see the outfit ruined in H3!

Bangkok: Dancing Boats

We’ve resolved an issue where some of the boats in the harbour would start to ‘dance’ on PS5 after a short period of time.

YESSSS THANK YOU!!!!!!! That was awful! Ruined so many photos, and ruined my immersion!

Hawke’s Bay: Alma Slow

We’ve resolved an issue that could cause Alma to permanently hang out near the coat racks if Orson is subdued upstairs.

Alma just didn't want to die.

And that's it!

Well... Sad to see that 47's clipping swimsuit in Haven Island isn't on the list of fixed things. I hope they get to that at one point... Makes me not want to wear this outfit, but... the eye candy!

#Hitman #Hitman 3 #Hitman 3 Year 2

12 notes · View notes