#this was longer than i expected but i hope this helps!
Note
hihi!! may I req ratio,aventurine and wriothesley with a teen!reader who is getting bullied badly?
reader is a student in ratios, the youngest IPC employee in aventurines and the youngest prisoner in wriothesleys
thank youu
Hello there, Anon!! I absolutely love this idea, so thank you for the request, and I hope you'll like this!!<33
Content: Some descriptions of bullying!!, teen reader, platonic relationships, fluff, hurt/comfort, some angst, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!!
((Not fully proofread))
》WRIOTHESLEY
Wriothesley knew from the start that you'd have a rough time here. You were very young and not the strongest he had seen either. You were akin to a scared and confused child due to your sentencing having been rather... unfair, in his own opinion. You reminded him of himself when he first arrived down here, and so, he took it upon himself to watch over you from afar until you've settled in properly.
However, as he had perhaps expected, people didn't go easy on you. You were teased and bullied, and some much older inmates were going as far as taking your hard earned tokens or food. And whilst some say that it was the survival of the fittest down here, Wriothesley didn't adhere to that anymore. Just because they were criminals didn't mean that they had to be so uncivilized in a place they had to now call home for most likely life.
And so, he eventually put a stop to it by being a little "rough" himself with the way he worded his orders for people to leave you alone. You were taken under his wing completely afterward, as he had hope that you'd perhaps make it out after all one day and lead a much better life than he could.
》AVENTURINE
Aventurine immideatly took notice of the way some older IPC agents picked on you. You were the youngest there, maybe even a little younger than he was when he was first taken in, and it was quite obvious that you were therefore an easy target. He tried keeping an eye on you as much as he could until he eventually just put in the request to be the one to mentor you.
He quickly made sure to always have you at his side whenever you were doing business for the IPC with coworkers. It made things alot easier regarding all the teasing and bullying, but it took alot out of him to not get annoyed whenever someone made a sly comment towards you.
Aventurine keeps you safe and helps you build your confidence up by letting you speak your mind and take over challenging jobs. He would also absolutely pull some strings to gain you more respect amongst your peers if needed, ofcourse.
》DR. RATIO
Dr. Ratio was keeping his eyes on you from the start during his classes, although it did take him moment to notice the bullying. You were always a very reserved and quiet child, so he usually left you alone as long as you paid attention in class and did your homework. But when your grades began to dramatically decline, he knew something must've been going on with you.
And so he decided to take alot longer when packing his things after class ended. He acted like he wasn't really paying attention to anyone anymore either, which is how he finally caught your bullies picking on you. To say that he was displeased would be an understatement. He didn't tolerate bullying in his class and made sure to place all of your bullies in detention the moment he could.
Dr. Ratio saw it as important for you to continue your studies even after what happened, but this time in private sessions away from the main classes until you felt safe again. He might be strict and stern at times, but ultimately he just wants the best for you and makes sure you know that.
Alrighttt, I hope this was okay, Anon, and thank you again for your request!!<33
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail fanfic#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr x reader#hsr#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin fanfiction#genshin wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x reader#genshin wriothesley#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine#hsr dr ratio#dr ratio#dr. ratio x reader#hsr dr. ratio#hsr dr ratio x reader#star rail x reader#star rail x you#genshin impact fanfic#genshin
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the styles' nanny: part two
Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a measly encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.
Pairing: plussize—nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 10.2k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex
here’s part one!
A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!
—
I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now.
I’ll see you soon,
Y/N
That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered.
Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.
Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.
It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself. Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.
“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?”
Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum.
“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?”
“Of course.”
As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.
But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.
He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.
He was ready to offer that to her.
—
Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.
And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.
“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”
Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.
She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.
Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.
“No.”
His eyebrow raised, “no?”
“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”
He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.
“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”
“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”
Concern warped his features.
“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”
She’d turned heads.
“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.”
She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.
“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.
The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.
“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”
“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”
In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.
“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.
As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.
“Are you driving me to my apartment?”
And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.
“Where’s Jamie?”
He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”
“Oh.”
The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.
Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.
“Y/N, have some water.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.
He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m tired.”
“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”
She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”
“Y/N.”
That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.
“Why’d you go out drinking again?”
“Wanted to.”
“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”
“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”
Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.
Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”
Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”
“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”
It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.
The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.
It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.
“You still there, baby?”
And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.
But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.
“Yeah.”
“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”
“No, I‘m not like you.”
“Ouch.”
Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.
“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”
His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”
And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine.
“Yeah.”
“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”
Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.
“Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”
She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”
Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.
“I know so.”
“Thank you.”
“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.
“You sure?”
“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”
And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?
For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.
“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.
She knew what.
“Nothing.”
“M’kay.”
“Stand up for me?”
Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.
As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.
“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”
He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.
“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.
He hummed, “I know.”
“But thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”
“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”
Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.
“Last time what?”
He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.
He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.
Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.
What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.
She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.
—
Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.
Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”
“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”
“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”
“Probably.”
Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.
“I—“
“Are you— oh, sorry.”
“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.
Harry smiled, “are you okay?”
“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“
Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”
“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”
Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”
“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.
“No go on, tell me.”
“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”
“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”
“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”
“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.
The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.
“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”
A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.
“Oh.”
He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.
“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.
There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.
“But you…”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t… because of yesterday?”
“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”
His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“
“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”
“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”
She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”
“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”
“Yes.”
Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”
“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”
“Enlighten me then.”
Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.
So she deflected.
“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“
“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”
“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."
Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.
“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”
“I don’t know.”
She almost laughed, “sure”
“Sweetheart—“
“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”
“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”
“There’s nothing to consider, okay?! I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“
What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.
It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.
Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.
But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.
“Wait.”
His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”
“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.
He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.
“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”
She only nodded.
He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.
Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.
—
Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.
The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.
Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).
As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.
“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”
“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”
“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”
“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”
Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.
“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”
Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“
“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”
Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.
“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”
“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.
It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”
“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”
“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“
“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”
A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.
Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.
And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone: “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.
—
Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.
“Y/N—“
“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“
“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”
She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.
“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”
Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”
“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”
Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”
“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”
“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”
“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”
“Do you love her?”
Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.
Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.
Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.
“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”
Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.
Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.
When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.
“That’s… yeah. I get that.”
This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.
Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.
“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”
Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight. “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”
“Okay.”
A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”
“I’d like you to come.”
“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”
“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”
“I’m quitting. That’s it.”
“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“
“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”
She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.
Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.
And yet, he was determined to keep trying.
—
Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.
The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.
This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.
“So how flexible is time for you?”
“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”
“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”
“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”
This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.
That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.
“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”
Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”
“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”
“I don’t expect you to understand—“
“No. We’re not doing that.”
“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”
“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“
“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”
And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”
“For good reason.”
“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”
“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”
Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.
“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”
“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”
He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”
“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.
“Do you have another job lined up?“
“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”
“Where?”
“A cafe.”
“Where?”
“You wouldn’t know it.”
“Are you hired?”
She huffed, “no.”
“Where else?”
“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”
“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Financial help, maybe?”
Y/N groaned, “no.”
“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“
“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“
“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“
“Can we just— can we not?”
And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts. Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.
There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.
For now, he had to be okay with this.
—
Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.
She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.
He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.
But it hadn‘t been real, had it?
It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.
Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.
But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.
Wouldn‘t he?
He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.
And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.
She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.
“You okay?”
“Hm? Yes. Why?”
A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
God, she was feeling small under his gaze.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”
“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”
But she failed to move.
Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.
“Sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”
Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“
“Last night you what?”
“I had… I had this dream and—“
She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.
“Is this okay?”
His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”
He hummed.
“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”
“It’s only seven.”
“Yeah.”
Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat. He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder.
“Can you do my arms?”
“Of course, baby.”
She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.
And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.
“Is this okay?”
She nodded promptly, heart racing.
Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.
A love like his would feel so great.
“You look really beautiful, you know that?”
“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Me neither.”
“You’re the one who keeps running.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.
“I’m scared to stay.”
He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”
“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“
“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”
Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”
“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”
“I doubt that,” he retorted.
“Past experiences have proven as much.”
He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”
Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”
“How easy it is to love you.”
Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.
“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”
Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.
And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.
When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.
—
A month later.
“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”
As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.
She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”
“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”
“You ready then?”
“Yes.”
Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.
“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”
Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.
“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”
“Yes, they still are.”
Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”
“You said that you don’t.”
“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”
Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”
“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”
“Who?”
Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.
He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.
When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.
“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”
The silence was short lived.
He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”
“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”
“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”
“Really?”
“I do.”
This stumped her.
And now it was her turn: “wow.”
Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.
“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”
She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.
“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“
“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“We’ve only been together—“
“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”
“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”
And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.
“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”
“Would he?”
“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”
“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.
“Then move in with us.”
A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”
“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”
“Harry!”
“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“
“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”
“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”
“I know that.”
“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”
“I need to make money somehow.”
“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”
“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”
“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“
Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”
“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”
“Sorry.”
Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”
Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”
Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t regret it."
He'd been right.
--
The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it
tags:
@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl @vikiii07
I hope I didn’t forget anyone!
#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles x you#harry styles one shot#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles series#harry styles materlist#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles x nanny#harry styles ceo#harry styles fanfic rec
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As promised, the first three chapters of Chaos are available to the public!
Sixteen-year-old Nick Riverson has all but given up on getting answers to his questions. Ever since his father left under mysterious circumstances nine years ago, his life hasn't gotten any better. Not helping matters is the terroistic group B'trayed roaming around and forcing everyone to abide to increasingly strict curfews.
Just when he think he'll never get any closure, he rescues his new neighbor from a B'trayed attack, and unlocks a fiery power that he never knew he had. It doesn't take long until he learns this group is hunting down his father--and will stop at nothing until they do so.
Now seeing the chance to unravel a nine year mystery, Nick, his neighbor, the friends he meets along the way, and his uncle set out on a journey to find his missing dad, and learn deep secrets that span far longer than anyone ever realize.
Chaos contains:
-A cast of color, starring a dark-skinned black protagonist
-An LGBT cast
-Neurodivergent characters
-Inspiration from shonen anime
-A fun action romp aimed at young adults and older teens
This is the first book of a four book series, and the first three chapters are to give you an idea of what to expect! I hope you all enjoy, and please share so more people can read! If you have any questions, my inbox is always open!
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what if ratio breaks down and falls apart?
Dr. Ratio (x Aventurine at the end)
warnings: mental breakdown
word count: 1.9k
a/n: lots of ppl seemed to like this idea so here it is, not beta read, ffs come home aventurine
description: Dr. Ratio breaks down (angst), Aventurine mentioned/shows up at one point (fluff dare I say)
his hands shook immensely with the keys in his hand, the heavy doors open and close. he can feel it. he can no longer hold on. being a victim of routine, he manages to push on just a few moments longer, to put away his bag, lock the door, and take off his shoes. few steps through the hallway and it is over. his body trembling as his chest swells up with pain and sadness, so many emotions mixed up in one. filling up in his throat like a peach pit, choking him and making it harder to breathe. he falls to his knees, his breathing heavy, rapid, and irregular. in moments like these, he knows how to take care of himself, how to help himself, how to fix this. but it is too much. he can't. he also... why does everyone get to break down but not him? he can barely breathe in and breathe out, as many thoughts fill his mind.
eyes filling with hot tears except he cannot cry that much, he has always been incapable of actually crying and letting it all out.
like a water dam overflowing and drowning him along with it. the dam filling with water and using it in useful ways until the workers don’t show up, the tools get clogged, old, and broken. the dam overflows. nature always comes back to take its due, to pick up the price, especially human nature.
he isn't enough. he will never be enough. it is a fool's job, what he is trying to achieve. how could he ever spread knowledge everywhere, making it available to everyone? how is that being realistic? hopeful fool, he knows better than to hope. an idiot. a failure. why did he even think he could be capable of doing that? the aeons were right to not recognize him, he isn't worth their attention- he keeps failing. isn't it the definition of insanity to keep doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome? not enough. never enough. such expectations were put on him and he jumped to fulfill them- and when he didn't achieve the last one- to become a true genius, then he failed. failed the mold he was put in. failed the beliefs of everyone around him and their expectations. they were all wrong; everyone who said he could do something, become someone relevant, someone who matters and makes a significant change. and the things he did, well they were never perfect and always could have been done much better. for fuck's sake he fails his students, just how many get the actual knowledge, and how many give up? he isn't good enough, he should be better, and get the knowledge across in a way everyone would accept and know and learn. why is he not good enough? he keeps trying and it is never enough. not once has the universe said, ‘okay, you have done enough, you can rest now.’
why does he keep trying? and he is alone in all of it. who is there who cares for him- who puts his view of self aside, who can.. please.. who can please view him as a human.. a person.. just... as someone who doesn't need to be extraordinary- can he be loved in such a way, appreciated? who would care for him? when all that is said about him is that he is rude, when he only tells the truth and tries to help, he is told that he is insensitive, egotistical, and he is so far from it. why does everybody hate him? aeons, he hates himself. why was he born, created like this? it would've been so much easier to have been born an idiot, dumb, to work a normal job, and be happy.
he stares at an empty spot as these thoughts overtake him, and then he sobs as the next ones come... he wants to be held, oh so much. to be embraced, to be cared for, thought of in a positive way, for his name to be called with love. no one is enough, he isn't enough.
his thoughts keep spiraling in a whirlpool, almost like he is frozen in space. eyes fixed, hands shaking and the occasional warm tear falling down his cheeks, which are now red and hot.
his skin feels like it is burning, the clothes on him overwhelming him but he cannot move, it hurts, it all hurts. why does it hurt so much? this vicious cycle never ends. how could he stand up again when he is falling apart at the seams? is he worth it at all, the life he lives, if he cannot even help himself? he will never be enough. he wants to shout, to yell in frustration and anger- all swallowed in his throat while he continues to sit.. broken on the floor.
his thoughts become more incoherent, how could he.. why.. help.. not enough.. and so on. curses, hatred directed at himself, sorrow, and pity. his ears deaf at any sound, he is so lost in his mind, it is like he isn't even there.
this isn't the first time, but it was never this hard. he picked himself up before; standing, going automatically around his home to take care of his basic needs. but now he has no hope, no care for it, he cannot move. immobile and lost, so… so deep in this vortex.
the doors open and close. there's a voice, he doesn't even register it, “..tas?... home?”
the person makes a few more steps and sees Veritas, sitting on the ground. Veritas manages to register distant footsteps, rushed- it doesn't matter; he isn't even there. only his body is.
the person sits down in front of Veritas and hands him a glass of water. his eyes are unfocused, he appears still, hands on the floor with a slight tremor, cheeks shiny from the tears and a warm red color. instinctively he accepts the glass and drinks the water. the cool fluid makes him consciously blink and float back to the present moment. he registers the voice of the person in front of him.
“Veritas.. I'm here, good- the water is good for you- I'm here, alright?” his eyes focus on the blond man sitting in front of him. Aventurine's eyes are filled with worry and his hands cup Veritas' face, caressing slowly. his voice is calm, “you will be fine- I got you, okay?” Aventurine nods to himself more than to Ratio. his hand moves to the indigo hair, pulling his fingers through the soft locks in a comforting manner. Veritas' eyes are trained on him, full of pain and heartbreak, yet his face is neutral, so hurt.
“your head got to you again? I keep telling you- don't listen to it- it isn't right it only says mean things which aren't true. do you hear me?” the only thing he gets in response is a slow blink from the taller man. and it is enough.
“it tipped over, it isn't as bad as your head claims- don't listen to it, listen to me, focus on me. I’ve got you, I'm here-“ he pulls Veritas into his chest, cradling him in a way. “-and I'm not going anywhere”
fresh tears soak Aventurine's shirt. it hurts to be cared for, to be seen, and for that person to stay and not leave.. it feels undeserving and it just makes him cry harder. he sobs into Aventurine's shoulder, breaking down fully. his voice comes out high-pitched, breaking, “I... I.. it is so hard-” he sobs harder and tightly embraces Aventurine.
“I'm here, you will be okay, this will pass, I have you, don't- don't struggle against them, focus on me, please?” Aventurine pulls away to raise Veritas' chin and meet his eyes, those sunset eyes filled with tears. and he weakly nods.
“focus on me, my voice, Doc, focus on my voice. and I'm warm- you can feel it yes? my chest is warm and my hands- my scent- you can smell the perfume right? focus on me, ground with me. leave that dreadful place- it never did you any good.” he continues using safe words, repeating them, and when Veritas manages to get a grasp on reality once more; he feels empty, numb and Aventurine takes care of him. Aventurine helps him eat a proper meal, bathes with him where he holds him close against his chest, kissing his temple, and repeating that everything will be okay.
Aventurine holds him tightly in bed and whispers only the softest affirmations. before Veritas falls asleep, Aventurine mumbles kind words with his fingers in his hair.
he stays mostly awake that night, just in case Ratio wakes up in distress or from a nightmare. he doesn't mind it. he cares for him, if needed he'd pick his pieces up every day and help him put himself back together. Veritas is his, and he will always be there for him.
the morning turns out to be a slow one. Veritas would tiredly gaze at Aventurine, the blond man asleep into the late morning, and he wouldn't dare start his day- not yet, not now, not without him. Veritas' thoughts are slow this early in the day, they are quiet. he simply observes the younger man. finding some type of solace in it. he doesn't dare touch him as if the beautiful man was a statue made of glass and might break from a single touch.
when his eyes do open he hums and moves to press his face into Veritas' soft chest.
like it is the first time, Ratio is surprised, frozen for a few moments before he relaxes and embraces Aventurine.
“sleep well?”
he nods.
“I rescheduled my stuff, and I hope you will yours too-“, Veritas interrupts him, “..I did.” his voice quiet, monotone.
“today.. today will be easier, okay?” he raises his head, looking up. “I will be with you as long as you need and then some. please be kind to yourself. you need it” he whispers the last sentence and presses his lips into Ratio's cheek.
“I'll try... thank you.. for.. yesterday, dear gambler”
Aventurine nods, “I love you,” he says, easily, as if he didn't have to think those words through before he said them but it conveyed everything he wanted them to say. that he would be there for him, that he'd take care of him, that he would be his.
slight shock is obvious in Veritas’ eyes, that he would be loved gives him a stutter in his response. he feels so vulnerable, bare and naked in front of him. his emotions nude especially after being seen in the state he was in yesterday and despite that... or perhaps specifically because of it... Aventurine said that. with fear, felt on both sides, but also assurance that this is right, that it is a fact he softly says, “I... I love you too.”
beat. both staring into the other's eyes. Veritas cups his cheek. thumb drawing small circles, voice but a whisper, “please don't ever leave me” in that moment he is baren, vulnerable, his cards are on the table for the gambler to gamble off or hold tightly to his chest and fold.
Aventurine answers quickly with a small nervous smile, “the same goes for you too, Doc”
with all those emotions being so loud and scary, Veritas cannot keep up a coy act and even when he does Aventurine sees right through him.
“I promise” Veritas utters and seals it with a soft kiss.
#honkai star rail#dr ratio#hsr#dr ratio angst#analysis#dr ratio fluff#aventurine#aventurine x dr ratio#veritas ratio#aventio#raturine#ratiorine#comfort#veritas ratio angst
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Sleepless nights
Pairing: High lord! Eris x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a little bit suggestive towards the end
Summary: High lord of the autumn court helps you sleep
Masterlist
After the war, nightmares plagued your sleep every night. You can't remember the last time you slept the whole night, always waking up because of the terrors that followed you every time you dared to close your eyes. No sleep tonic is helping you. Not even your high lord powers could protect you. Leaving you desperate and hopeless for anything that can help you.
Madja recommended taking your mind off by busying yourself with work, so you don't have the time to think about anything else. That's why you're currently sitting on bed in autumn court, your room not far away from the high lords. As an administrative of night court, you travelled there to strengthen the relationship between the two courts. The sudden death of Beron forced Eris to take his place sooner than expected. Lucily, it wasn't drastic for the plans of your court.
It's not like you cared about them that much, but you sweared to be loyal, and you will be loyal to your court till the day of your death.
After half an hour of restless tossing, you decided to go on a walk around the house. Not expecting to meet someone at such an hour, you threw a light silk robe over your shoulders. Quietly slipping away from your room, you mindlessly started walking - letting your body guide you away from the room.
"Still awake, princess?" You swiftly turned started that someone was awake now. Focusing on the person your shoulders visibly releaxed and you let out signt you didn't even know you were holding in. "You scared me, Eris," coming closer to him, you couldn't help but admire his beauty. He had a strong and sharp jaw, which made you wonder if it would cut you when caressing it. His eyes burned with fire that burned brightly even after surviving things that you could never imagine. "I'm sorry if I woke you up." He probably was tired after a long day of duties, and you woke him up. Feeling guilty you averted your eyes from him.
"It's quite alright, I wasn't sleeping anyway," daring to look into his eyes to examine him even further. You could see the dark purple circles under his eyes. "You're not the only one who struggles, don't worry," his hand fixed stray strand of your hair that escaped the braid you put it in. It felt so natural, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch, never feeling more comfortable than right now. "You can sleep in my bed if you would like to." Pointing with his chin in the direction of his bedroom.
You wanted to refuse him. Sleeping with him in the same bed was highly inappropriate. This is still a work trip, and you don't think Rhysand would be happy if he knew about it. But Eris warm was attracting you like moth to light, it wrapped around you in cosy warm cocoon. "Only if you don't mind my snoring," Eris laughed at your joke. "I won't mind your snoring, only if you don't mind me stealing your blanket." Opening door to his room and guiding you inside with his hand on your lower back.
You quickly lay in his bed with blanket to your chin, hoping that the dark will shield your reddened cheeks from his burning gaze. Having a crush on the male for years now didn't help your situation in a bit. Your cheeks are getting red the longer you are in his room, in his bed thinking about his strong frame that will lay next to you. What if he wraps his arms around you? What if he's feeling the same as you, and this is his flirting strategy?
Eris laid next to you, laying on his side facing you, looking deeply into your eyes. "You're beautiful." If you weren't focused just on him, you wouldn't probably even hear it. But you're glad you did, finally mustering enough courage to do the thing you been thinking of for such a long time now. You gently cupped his cheek in your hand, looking deeply in his eyes. You kissed him. Your chest explodes with feeling you never felt before making you feel everything yet nothing at the same time.
"Took you long enough, princess"
Unhurriedly parting your lips from him, you gasped for air. "Y-you're my mate," realisation making you push Eris on his back and straddle his lap. His hands took hold of your waist, caressing you softly. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. Kissing you with more intensity than you ever been kissed before.
Eris kissed you like there is no tomorrow, not letting you go until you were gasping for air, wishing for more. You parted from him, looking deeply into his eyes. The high lord under you just smirked while playing with your hair.
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar fluff#eris vanserra#high lord eris#eris vanserra x reader#eris acotar#eris x reader#eris vandaddy#eris x y/n#eris x you#eris fluff#acotar eris
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Question about Paracelsus, does he actually like aba? I’m guessing in the older game, he mostly tolerated her because she can fight (except for the fact he deliberately chooses not to control her) but in the new one, I’m pretty much confused. When he ends his transformation, He says “That’s my answer, ABA, As your partner.” Problem is that I have no idea which meaning of “partner” he meant. It could be just fighting partners but him having a whole emotional speech and transformation for a “business partner.” If I try to look at the view of actually going for ABA’s dreams for marriage, it feels incomplete and odd because she is slowly transforming him into what she sees fit. Please I really want to know what he meant!
Side note: ABA’s feelings of jealousy and abandonment are completely valid as Paracelsus has done that! To her face! WITH A RANDOM STRANGER TO HER!!! In night of knives volume 2.
Life partner, since Paracelsus no longer really wants to fight on principle, so 'fighting partner' like he used to regard A.B.A as and originally hoped she would regard him as, that's out of the window. So if he's still resolving to stay with her, it's as a life partner. The extent of what that means to him is prolly different from A.B.A, but that can evolve over time.
Because Paracelsus, as he has stated, is an axe. He understands relationships in axe terms, which is he acknowledges his wielder (which he did acknowledge A.B.A as at the end of Night of Knives) and he kills other people that threaten them. His whole situation-ship with A.B.A has forced him to be involved in roles he was never equipped to deal with and was forced to adapt to - being an emotional support, being an actual object of attraction, having to constantly protect his wielder from herself, having to be a counsel on social norms that he shouldn't know all that well to begin with as an axe but he's expected to, having to communicate on behalf of his wielder to navigate social situations and dispel conflict - quite literally none of these are on the checklist of 'being an axe that kills people real good.
Yeah he wanted to leave A.B.A in NoK, and honestly who wouldn't? From his perspective, she was hellbent on not treating him as the weapon he wanted her to treat him as. She was figuratively and literally emotion dumping on him constantly, what with the empathetic bond prolly not helping matters. And he kept trying to dispel every delusion and assumption she had about their relationship constantly. As he was being sexually harassed despite his protests and mid-battle, constantly.
But even back then, Slayer implied that Paracelsus never hated A.B.A personally, but her constant advances, the situations they got into, it was all frustrating to him when he really wanted to be 'just a weapon' back then.
We kinda skipped Paracelsus character development up till STRIVE but IMO, I think he figured out he had to be proactive with A.B.A, cause sticking with his "I'm a weapon, and only a weapon" principles wasn't helping. He accepted that he needed to be the responsible one of the two, that he had to kick his blood habit because it made him lose control and also got them into fights etc. He accepted that he had to change for the sake of A.B.A.
Thinking about marriage for them is kinda falling into the trap that A.B.A fell into IMO. Her theme hints that being bound by specific definitions of words or expectations may have prevented her and them from organically growing their relationship, whatever it can or would be.
Part of her major development is that she acknowledges she's been obsessed with the idea of love, but not actually truly understanding what it is. Her obsession with Paracelsus is more of her playing the part rather than understanding the feeling. Part of her growth was choosing to let go of Paracelsus for his own good, and in fact it was an expression of true love, even though she didn't realize it. Paracelsus is also learning about love and Elphelt suggested that looking out for someone is in fact a form of love, and that surprised him. He didn't seem to realize that the steps he's taken to take care of A.B.A are expressions of love themselves either.
As Paracelsus explained to A.B.A, he's not sure where their relationship will go or what the future holds for them. How their feelings will develop is still up in the air, but he tries to show A.B.A that if he could change so much, then she can too. The idea is that they're finally free to be whatever they're going to be, and they're choosing to stick together to that end, and that's the most important thing.
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i accidentally posted it but i screenshotted it before i deleted it 😭😭 anyway it’s gonna be short and to the point bc i don’t know much about her still but im trying my best to find things about her 🫡
warning(s): cussing, smut
genre: smut
pairing(s): azzi fudd x fem!reader
not proofread ☹️
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“fuck!” you moaned as azzi stuck her tongue in you, you didn’t expect it. azzi was on her knees on the floor and you were on the bed propping yourself up on the bed with your elbows. she removed her tongue and added her fingers and licked and sucked on your clit, making you approach your orgasm faster than expected.
azzi was going faster the more you moaned, you tried to hold it in as long as possible but the ways he was fucking you nothing was staying in. “oh god, azzi, i’m cumming.” you told her in between moans, “go ahead.” she said in between your legs.
she helped you ride out your orgasm and got up off her knees after. you laid there trying to catch your breath, you looked up when you heard the sound of the strap being put on. when you looked up you seen azzi buckling the strap on, she looked fine as hell. her hair in a low bun, sports bra, and a pair of lacy black panties.
she was walking up to you with the strap on and you continued to admire her. “you’re so beautiful.” you told her while using your elbows to prop yourself up and admire her, she smiled at you and gave you a kiss, “thank you, you look beautiful too.”
she put her hands on your hips and lined herself up with your entrance, she squeezed your hips to let you know she was entering you. even thought she told you she was going to enter you didn’t expect for it to be so hard. you moaned in pleasure and a little bit of pain. she continued the harshness but added more speed every few seconds, you were a moaning mess and just a mess in general. you had tears in your eyes and some down your face and you started to sweat a little.
“oh, fuck.. azzi, i can’t take it anymore.” you told her, your voice a bit broken and gone. “yes you can, you’ve taken harsher.” she said sort of panting, you moaned instead of replying to her. “i need to cum, b-badly.” you told her while moaning uncontrollably. “hold it for a little longer.” she said. she thought it would be funny to press under your stomach above your pussy and you couldn’t hold it anymore, you cummed all over the strap. “why would you do that.” you while out of breath and smiling. “because i want to.” she smiled back, giving you a kiss.
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sorry it’s so short and took so long to get out. anyway i hope you enjoyed, have good day/night, love you 💋💋
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Fools in the Rain
Ghost is spending the fourth night of his leave alone in his apartment, whittling mindlessly while an old sitcom plays in the background. A storm rages outside, so loud that when Ghost hears the knock at his door, he almost mistakes it for thunder. His head raises slowly as the realization dawns upon him that the sound was in fact a knock….and that he wasn’t expecting company. He’s never expecting company. He’s never even had company. Wouldn’t know what to do with company. Doesn’t enjoy company.
So something must be wrong.
He rises slowly…silently….his hand reaching for one of the many guns he keeps tucked around his apartment. Another knock, louder than the first, confirms his suspicions and spurs him to quicker movements. He dashes to the door, taking a breath before peering through the peephole.
Soap is standing on the other side, shifting his weight back and forth under the small awning as his heart races. Despite his body being drenched by the rain, he can still feel sweat creeping down his back and pooling in his palms. Sweat just has that distinctive feel.
Ghost unlocks the deadbolt and opens the door as far as the chain lock will allow. He eyes Soap as he demands over the cacophonous rain, “What’re you doing here, Soap?”
Soap’s eyes shoot up as Ghost cracks open the door. The rain, unfortunately, had not reached the confines of Soap’s mouth, leaving his tongue dry and his voice cracked. He swallows nothing and admits, “….I haven’t been able to sleep in days. Ever since we started leave…I’ve been….plagued….haunted with thoughts….they’re there when I’m awake, there when I try to sleep….”
A stone settles in the depths of Ghost’s stomach. He stares at the soaked man for what feels like an eternity, swimming in Soap’s bloodshot eyes as he searches for answers he has no idea how to find. Thankfully, Soap continues:
“I consider myself a strong man, Ghost. I’ve suffered things no person should experience. I’ve been beaten and shot, held hostage and interrogated and tortured. But this….this is a torture I cannot endure…..”
The desperation in Soap’s voice, the utter weakness in his shaking frame…it chills Ghost to his core.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. What you’re doing. Where you are. How you’re feeling. I-I keep worrying. I feel like every nerve is on fire when I’m not near you, I—”
His words die in his mouth as Ghost abruptly closes the door. Soap can’t help the tears that instantly well in his eyes. Tears that proceed to fall upon his rain-soaked cheeks as the door remains closed. In his stunned state, Soap can’t even raise a hand to wipe them away as they tickle his face, mocking him for thinking that this was ever a good idea.
Meanwhile, Ghost is on the other side of the door, his mind even more tumultuous than the storm outside. He places his gun down on whatever surface is closest. He paces as hopeful thoughts bubble up to the surface of his consciousness; he shakes his head with the rise of each one, hoping to quell them.
It doesn’t work.
Soap is frozen, tears no longer trickling. No, now they’re a steady stream. His mouth opens and closes like a fish drowning in open air. He hopes maybe he’ll be rewarded for his foolishness with a strike of lightning—something to end the pain coursing through him, leaving him breathless and yearning for death.
Ghost tears off his balaclava and tosses it aside. As he paces, he runs his hands through his hair, feeling the tremble of his fingers against his scalp. And then, before he even realizes what he’s doing, he unlocks the chain lock and yanks open the door.
The sight of the state he’s left Soap in is worse than any bullet, Ghost thinks. The two men stare at each other, stunned by the sight of the other. Ghost knows he has to move, to speak, to do something. Soap has left himself bare, disemboweled himself and placed his guts at Ghost’s doorstep. So he has to do something.
Ghost takes a step forward through the doorway. Soap takes a step back, mistaking Ghost’s intense gaze and advancement as a sign of aggression. Ghost takes another step forward, and Soap responds with another step back, leaving the shelter of the awning and walking backwards into the rain. As Ghost takes yet another step forward, he reaches out and cups Soap’s face, freezing him in place once more.
Ghost draws into Soap, bringing his other hand up to mirror the first. He brushes his thumbs over Soap’s cheeks, determined to wipe away the tears before the rain does. To somehow fix what he’s done.
Words have always been special to Ghost. He doesn’t speak much not because he doesn’t like to, but because he wants what he says to convey exactly what he means. Ghost handles his speech like a knife, knowing that with his words he carves in ways that can either create or destroy. He plans what he says carefully, steeping his thoughts like tea before pouring them from his mouth:
“I am a fool…for ever letting you feel the way you feel now…forgive me, please…”
Soap blinks the concoction of rain and tears from his eyes. He slowly raises his hands and grasps Ghost’s wrists, holding them like they’re a buoy. But for once in his life, he stays silent, much to Ghost’s distress.
“Please, Johnny…please say something….”
The sound of Ghost’s voice, as warbled and watery as the puddle drenching their feet, stirs Johnny to speak. The corners of his teary eyes crinkle as he smiles through his words, “You are a fool…but you’re my fool…isn’t that right, Simon?”
Simon chokes back a sudden sob and nods, pulling a laugh of relief from Johnny. He leans his forehead against Simon’s, tightening his grip on the man’s wrists.
Simon wrangles together his nerves and forces himself to be brave. “Can this fool kiss you?” he asks, the surprising sweetness in his voice melting Johnny like candy floss in water. He nods and Simon softly presses his lips against Johnny’s, tasting tears and rain.
#cod#cod fanfic#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#ghost x soap#soap x ghost#ghoap#ghoap fanfic#i’ve never played cod#i know cod is military propaganda but goddamn i cant get these men out of my head
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Here to beg for smutty Gale and Maureen thoughts 🙏🏻🙏🏻 I love those two
Oh Nonnie, I’ve got a whole one shot charted out that i think you’ll enjoy immensely. Oh how I need time to write! However, let me give you this little backstory.
Our girl Maureen was sulking very hard over not being cool enough to be a pilot -those were the credentials as far as she could see- and having not applied herself very well to her arithmetic as a child, she was having some trouble even cutting it even as a bombardier. It was training, she went through a few crews, there were reshuffles, there were people getting nixed and people getting added and out of the fog came one pilot who actually had been at this longer than five seconds.
And he looked like that. He sounded like that. He took himself so seriously like that she wanted to bite him. And Maureen, I’m sorry to say, had been an excellent trophy hunter of men and exotic game only a few peacetime months ago and just because a war was on, she’d experienced no change of inclination.
She tried to buy him a drink. Got turned down. Allowed the petulance she felt for the whole situation to simmer over and fully had a little cry while he sat on the barstools begging her to understand it wasn’t her he was refusing but the liquor. She bought him a ginger ale instead.
And she called him by it every time after seeing how it made him squirm. Like a little boy getting his head pat for being ever so “good.” To Gale this was a pure mindfuck and one he was pretty sure came from him not yet adjusting to integrated life. Something about the way he lost all his bearings around her, admired things he used to hold in contempt when she exhibited them, and even ended up looking forward to a run in with her like some masochistic fool hopes he trips up and gets lashed for it.
When they start more training runs together, he ends up taking her far more seriously. He had to chew her out the first flight -in that horrible and measured way of his that’s so much worse than a yell- about her clumsiness. She cited her new bombsight as the issue, he called her an ignorant little wall flower without enough math skills. Maureen knew when not to cry, and this was one of those times so instead she just asked for help, and there’s nothing Gale Cleven is so susceptible to as the chance for helping people. Maureen also went back to her bunk after that dressing down and rubbed herself off furiously to the recollection of his intensity and the firmest hand she’d ever been shown.
By England they have become expected to be seen together, not in the way of Bucky and Buck or even Ida and Egan, but rather like Blakely and Douglass. Gale has somewhere along the way list count of the number of jeep rides he’s had to put her hands out of his lap and back in hers. That’s another thing he’s not sure how he allowed, technically he didn’t but she kept disobeying and he has dreams -actual dreams!- of taking her over his knee and dishing out a few smacks her father didn’t see fit to give that pert little ass in her flysuits.
He tells Bucky that once, thinking it a safe and generic thought. Bucky howls over it and places a bet on how soon Maureen’s hand stays in his lap and how soon Buck repays her with a handprint to her derrière.
All this while flying missions. It’s a bit fucked, and sometimes they admittedly both haven’t got much left for this nonesense, the skies take it out of them. Although Maureen would best like to combat those blues by having a man between her legs, and somehow, it feels moderately untrue to Gale to just hop on the next one even though she does from time to time. The way he seems either clueless or unsurprised by it is excruciating.
It makes her have a very venomously honest chat with him once when her courage is sufficiently liquified and he’s got no mission tomorrow. She asks if he loves Bucky instead and the man about swallows his tongue. “I’d understand-“ she’s very firm about it while Gale protests too much. The short of it is some admittance to not being in the market for girlfriends while fighting a war, the fact a kiss between them could get both court marshaled and well, yes, maybe what he needs he gets from his friendship with Bucky. He’s never been in love before and does she really expect him to suddenly learn to do it both ways?
She does. Even after telling him quite strongly that if her were to ask, Bucky would give that friendship to him “both ways”. Which is another topic to get court marshaled about and Gale says goodnight….After having let her chew on his earlobe an indefinite amount of time while she was suggesting this filth. He ends up back in the showers doing what used to be an occasional self care and is now and almost nightly occurrence.
And then. Egan is drunk, Candy is drunk, Biddick is drunk. One of them asks get to punched so they can feel something. One is reluctant as that’s a crazy ass thing to ask. The other is delighted at the opportunity to do so with no repercussions.
And that’s how Maureen badly hurts her hand on Bucky Egan’s face. While Egan goes to meet the new CO, a little knocked about and mildly dazed, Maureen gets hauled to the base hospital by Gale to get those busted knuckles sorted. It’s not a dire emergency, not even worthy of taking staff away from those who need it -this Maureen insists and maybe the staff agrees as after Cleven tells them he’s looking for gauze and antiseptic, they tell him it’s in the back room, have at it major.
And while back there, watching his intent little face cleaning her cuts and his voice gently berating her foolishness and also admiringly asking how she learned to punch like that -she tells him,
“Did you know I’m ambidextrous?”
And that’s how Gale Cleven got his first handjob in the backroom of the hospital.

#long story long#i don’t have a smitty headcanon list in my head yet but have this#Gale x Maureen#masters of the air#those who can#Gale Cleven
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pov: you go to one of their gigs
old ramble written last year.
warning: 18+. follows no timeline. not proofread, so grammatical errors and typos.
masterlist here.
not. this. again.
no matter how fucking hard you tried to keep it together, you somehow always found yourself crying over the same idiot, tall boy. for nearly three years now, you’d tried to shake off your feelings for george but at this point it honestly seemed impossible. you always fell for his attention even though you knew it was a sick, toxic cycle. sigh. you couldn't do this to yourself anymore.
it was mid october. you were at a venue in london waiting for the band to take the stage. george had asked (well, more like begged actually) over the phone for you to come to their gig that night even though you were drained and exhausted. "please. i miss you." you didn't know if his plea was sincere or not, but it made your heart beat faster. you hated to admit you missed him, too.
"fine, but don't count on me for anything after." you had worked 12 consecutive shifts to stash away some money as you wanted to do some travelling around europe. you were in your early 20's. you were supposed to have fun, get lost in random cities, take drugs with strangers, all of those things you saw on films and tv. while you loved london, you wanted to visit some places with a bit more colour to them and try to forget about him for at least a few weeks or so. it wasn't too much to ask for, right?
after he convinced you to show up, you figured you might as well try to make the most of your night out. you stumbled upon him and ross when they were out for a quick smoke, george quick to plant a kiss on your cheek followed by a tight embrace that lingered longer than expected. he was warm and, to your dismay, it made you feel warm inside, too. it seemed that every chance he got, he would touch you in some way, whether a brush of your arm, a hand on your lower back, a gentle grip on your hip. you tried to not think much of it knowing you couldn't afford to get tangled up in this mess all over again. you loved him (to some extent) but the sleepless nights and ongoing fights were not worth it anymore.
when the opening band finished, you made your way to the front to watch them perform from a closer spot. you had attended many of their gigs at this point and you genuinely fell in love with their music, albeit you wouldn't tell them directly. you had too much pride for such confession.
the gig started, the fangirl in you waking up and getting excited to sing along, forgetting about your exhaustion and lack of sleep. matty noticed you, giving a small wave and blowing a kiss in your direction before diving into the next song. while george was the one who unfortunately held your heart, you had a soft spot for the front boy, even having made out with him several times before just for the hell of it. alcohol and weed might have been involved, though...
after a few more songs, you couldn't help but notice the way george effortlessly played on stage, arms moving in calculated motions, messy hair swaying from side to side. he would look straight at you, wink and bite his bottom lip, which just made you laugh. he hadn't changed one bit. you remembered him doing this same routine at your place whenever he craved your attention. and george did it because he knew it worked like a charm. you had to admit it felt nice to have his focus on you, making you wonder if maybe, just maybe, the two of you could work it out again.
when the show ended and the boys went backstage, you managed to sneak yourself back there after 20 minutes or so, in hopes of finding them and saying your goodbyes. you kept opening every door to check if it was their dressing room, but you had no luck for a while.
you twisted another handle, opening the door and your heart sank to your stomach, making you feel instantly sick. in front of you happened to be your dear drummer with another girl's head between his legs. you were not quite sure which words left your lips, but they must've been loud enough for the both of them to turn around and take notice of you. this couldn't be happening. not. again.
you shut the door and quickly walked through the corridor, trying to find the nearest exit to get some fresh air in your lungs. not again, not again is all you could repeat in your head. you couldn't believe that somewhere deep inside your gut, you hoped that this could be the time that george and you kissed once more and went back to your flat together. why did you even think that would happen? and most importantly, why did you even want it to happen? not. again.
"fuck. i'm—i'm sorry." you were staring down at the floor which made you bump into someone. "i'm sorry." you kept apologizing as you made an effort to step away without looking up. you knew there were tears streaming down your face and didn't want anyone to see the mess you were at that moment. but you felt a tight grip on your arm and heard a familiar, warm voice call your name.
this is what finally made you turn around. "i'm sorry, matty. i can't..." you tried to break free from his grasp but he continued to hold on. "what's going on, darling? are you okay?" there was genuine concern embracing his words which made you cry ever more. not right now for fuck's sake.
you looked away, embarrassed at your state and not wanting to admit to him (or yourself) why you were uncontrollably sobbing. "hey. what happened, what is—" his voice trailed off as someone else seemed to be hurrying in your direction, calling your name, too. an exasperated george now stood besides you, breathing heavily. from running or coming in that girl's mouth, you didn't want to know.
"i've been looking for you everywhere. i can explain that," he pointed behind him, "back there." he was still catching his breath and it made you feel sick once more, taking every ounce of control to not vomit at that very second. the colour drained from your face as you started to shake, the tips of your fingers and jaw numb from a dangerous mix of anger and anxiety. he tried to grab your hand but you instantly recoiled, not wanting him to be near you, let alone touch you. "george, don’t.”
you saw as he nervously ran his long fingers through his hair thinking of what to say next. nothing. no words that came out of his mouth could provide any comfort, you were sure of that. you walked away, still trying to find the damn exit out of this hellish place. fuck george. fuck him for always pulling you in so close only to break you into one million pieces.
you finally managed to step outside, feeling lightheaded, heart still pounding in your ears. you found a dimly lit patch of grass and sat down, doing your best to focus on the cold air against your skin to try and keep him out of your mind. you felt so stupid. why did you think tonight would be any different?
great. someone was walking towards you. you stood up to leave. “please talk to me.” you turned to look at him. “please.”
“what do you want me to say, matty?” your hands covered your face as you continued to cry, not caring anymore if he heard you. you felt him inch closer, eventually putting his arms around you, holding you. “why does he always do this to me? why do i always hold on to his every word hoping that things will change? that he will actually want me.”
you felt his grip tighten around your shoulders. “he’s not worth it. he’s my best mate and i care for him deeply, but he’s not worth it,” he whispered into your hair. “please trust me on this one.”
all you could do was wrap your arms around him, yearning to hold someone close, to make you feel like you were for once safe and loved.
#matty healy imagine#george daniel imagine#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#george daniel x you#george daniel x reader#the 1975 fanfiction#the 1975 fanfic#matty#george#the 1975
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Weekly Update - Apr 27, 2024
Hello, Nigel Profite voters! Profitists? I’m here after a pretty big week of writing. Unfortunately, this week has been a crazy combination of good and bad news for me, luckily allowing me to concentrate a lot on High School Revenge.
Let’s start off with the important bit. I’ve written 12k words this week. Yes, you’ve heard that right. I’ve completely finished the homecoming party event, which was huge, bizarre, and full of choices. Though my writing pace has been amazing, it only happened because some bad stuff happened irl. I just lost my job, so I had a lot of time between applying for jobs and staring at the ceiling to work on this. What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t expect this speed under normal circumstances, since I think the 4k a week from before was more realistic. So, please don’t pray for my continued unemployment just so I could finish the book faster haha.
An interesting thing I’ve worked on this week is setting up special separate screens in the Stats menu for all of the targets, where I give a brief physical description and remind you of their role in the Tragedy. I think this will help if you ever wonder what someone like Vivian or Connor did back then. Since I’ve also made Burt spy on them all, you’ll also gain access to some special info, where you see some of their presumed traits, likes, dislikes, and related skills (i.e music or baseball). I will also add here in the future the clues you get that will help in your upcoming revenge.
As I’ve already said, I’ve also finished the homecoming party event that happens in the first week of school. It’s around 20k words, which is just slightly longer than the whole 2nd chapter. I think I’ve made it a fun experience with all of our weird targets and I hope you will have fun with it once it’s released!
In terms of what I’ve got left for the chapter, I’ve only got to write random events now, some initial relationship and hobby events, and the actual homecoming event. If things go well, in around 1 month everything should be done. Unless I start writing really long separate paths for each RO for homecoming. If I do that, it might take like 1 month and a half or something.
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If we see job postings for writing positions, should we spam them with fake applications? Waste their time? Obviously in addition to supporting the strike. Just looking for a positive outlet for troll energy.
hmm, i understand the impulse to waste their time, but ultimately i don't think that'd be the best path to support the strike – especially since it'll likely be an HR rep or other employee going through all the job applications, and not any of the higher-ups/CEOs themselves, who are the people we REALLY want to reach.
but there are other ways to support the strike! if you live near LA or NYC, there's a regularly-updated picket schedule available where you can show up in person. it's a great way to show your support and (if you're an aspiring writer) meet current guild members and network with them. plus you get to yell a LOT, so it's an A+ use of energy – and all the solidarity makes it fun!
if you're not local or you're not able to go out and picket in person, the WGA has a really handy social media toolkit with graphics, icons, and sample language to use on your social media channels. the hashtags they're using are #WGAStrong and #WGAStrike, so be sure to use those if you post your support.
and if nothing else, you don't have to post anything of your own if that's not your thing. check out those hashtags and retweet/share/reblog other peoples' stories! a perfect example is when abbott elementary writer brittani nichols shared a thread of her experience here. boost these writers' voices and spread their stories.
perhaps most importantly – because this narrative will get stronger as time goes on – don't let anyone convince you that the striking writers are entitled or whining over nothing. they're not asking for the moon here. these shows we love can't exist without writers, and these companies wouldn't be the media giants they are without those shows. how many of us crawled our way through the pandemic with a comfort show or movie? how many of us found solace in someone else's words in a script? we owe that to these very writers. writing is writing is work is work and they deserve to be fairly paid for their labor. don't let anyone try to tell you otherwise.
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This came to me in an early morning queer haze
Kissing my medics good morning (I am your husband heavy and I love you)
#tf2#team fortress 2#heavymedic#i know its super annoying for everyone when the sole medic on the team keeps pocketing heavies so as a heavy main i will say this.#to the medics in the chat: i dont expect you to pocket me and in fact you shouldn't. i suck. but! if you would it would be cool and gay and#and i will kiss you abd love you and give you yummy food and protect you like my life depends on it i will be your meat shield because you#are amazing incredible for picking medic despite the horrors. i will do everything in my power to help u. but don't pocket me i suck#i meant for that to be more meaningful and like giving advice but it got gay. but i meant all of it#when i see a medic healing me i immediately switch to shield mode my life is no longer mine i exist to protect the beautiful man behind me#thank you medics👍🏽 if u play medic i hope you have a wonderful day today everyday 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽❤️❤️#edit: i am gayer for heavy than i am for medic- but since i main heavy i am automatically attracted to medic and so this shitpost was born#so many people that play medic are apparently gay for heavy...... i feel so seen and understood
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wait wait, what’s the change tumblr did to the reblog chains ? 🥲🥲🥲 I’m so lost
okay so basically, let's say you see a post on your dash
before the update, if you clicked on a url, you could do 3 things:
view that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A)
view the previous reblog on the blog A reblogged it from (B)
view the original post on op's blog (C)
however, staff recently implemented an update where clicking on a url no longer takes you to that specific post. now, clicking on a url just takes you to the blog itself.
this means that you now get 5 things:
view ONLY that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A) -> changed location near header. also, you will now ONLY see that post and nothing else
view ONLY the original post on op's blog (C) -> changed location near header. you will only see that post and nothing else. and ONLY if the op hasn't deleted it, otherwise it just shows an error
view the blog of the person you follow (D)
view the blog of the person D reblogged it from (F) -> option B no longer exists
view the blog of the op (E)
you might be thinking: "cool! i get more options so that's good, right?" well, no.
there are SEVERAL things wrong with this and it goes beyond the prev tags issue
1) first of all, it's counterintuitive that A and C changed locations to the area near the header, especially if your userbase was already used to the previous functions. it just seems like horrible UX design to me but let's put that aside for now.
2) as you can see, option B which allowed you to see the previous reblog of a post no longer exists.
now, if you click on the previous url, you will just be taken to their entire blog. you can no longer view the post itself.
someone asked staff about this, and they replied in this post that the change was INTENTIONAL and if you want to view the previous reblog you would have to "go through the notes view".
to borrow what someone else said:
basically, this update just killed the prev tags culture in one fell swoop.
(sure, you can still use it to reply directly to the person you're reblogging from, but it's now literally useless to use "prev tags" for everyone else involved. sure, you can choose to copy tags or peer review them, but again, if people will have to copy them then the less people are likely to use them, and not every prev lends itself to peer-reviewing imo)
now, listen. i know not everyone likes the prev tags culture, but it just seems like such a poorly-thought decision to kill a culture that like... half of your entire userbase uses (see this poll as a quick reference) and that's UNIQUE to your site and sets you apart from other social media.
but it's also not even just prev tags. let's say you want to remove an annoying addition on a post's reblog chain? you can no longer do that.
however, i feel like this is the most important point:
regardless of how you may feel about the prev tags culture, the pure UI aspect of it should remain
what i mean by this is: even if you don't like prev tags, simply 1) being able to access the reblog chain, and 2) clicking on a post and actually have it take you to their BLOG (and not just a page with that one single post) is literally essential navigation.
this update threatens to drive down user engagement (which is already critically low) by making it harder to navigate. which is actually another point:
3) even if you click on A and C now to view those specific posts, it's NOT the same as it used to be.
before, you could view the reblog directly on the blog. so you could just scroll down and see the other posts leading up to it. now, you will be taken to a page where you will ONLY see that post and nothing else.
but also, you can no longer easily navigate other people's blogs.
you know how sometimes you would see like 50 notifications of someone going through an entire tag on your blog? that's going to happen a lot less, i'm afraid.
let's suppose you want to go to op's blog because they're an artist and you want to see more of their art. so you click on C and see that the tag they use for posts with their art is "#my art"
cool! before, you could just click on that tag and immediately view ALL of their art as long as the posts have that tag.
but now, if you click on that tag, it will take you to the ENTIRE tumblr tag with literally all the posts that everyone in the history of time has tagged with that specific tag.
now, to do the same thing that just took 2 clicks before, you would have to: click on C to view the post -> look for the tag you want to navigate -> click E to view their whole blog -> scroll and look for a post that just so happens to have that tag (the search function is literally useless) and hope to god that there's a recent one or you'll have to scroll for ages or simply give up -> if you happen to find it, click on that tag to navigate their posts.
you see how this is counterproductive, right? you see how this can literally drive down engagement with content creators, right?
if you make people's blogs harder to navigate, you will literally drive down the number of likes and reblogs on their posts, which have already been steadily declining for years now.
4) options D and E to view the blogs and not the posts are literally useless because you could already access other people's blogs before. you just had to click on their url to view their blogs starting from that specific post AND you could choose to just refresh it to view their newest posts.
either way, the change just seems completely unnecessary. and again, it's not just about the prev tags culture but about basic UI.
so what can we do about it?
i normally don't advocate for flooding staff with messages but i do feel like this is one of the worst updates staff has ever done (and that's saying something) and something needs to change.
even if they don't retcon the entire update, that's fine, but staff could at least add the option to view the reblog chain as a different feature (maybe even opt-in) for example. there are better ways to go about this than just axing an entire existing feature.
also, this same issue that makes it harder to navigate blogs needs to change. i feel like content creators will be especially affected by this unless this changes because you can no longer easily navigate their tags, so it will inevitably drive down engagement.
so please, contact staff and let them know we want a change.
you can contact support here!
here's a template for a possible message you could send, but feel free to edit it. (under category you can choose "Feedback")
Hi, I would like to politely request a change to the recent update that affects the reblog chain of posts. Regardless of the "prev tags" culture itself, the UI aspect of being able to view the reblog chain of a post is essential for navigation on this website. Even adding it as a separate, opt-in feature would be a huge help. Additionally, clicking on a post and then on one of the tags now takes you to the entire tumblr tag instead of the tag on that blog, which makes it harder to navigate blogs. Both of these issues have the potential to drive down user engagement by actively making it harder to navigate Tumblr, but especially for content creators. I hope you can do something to address these issues as soon as possible. Thanks in advance and have a nice day.
also, if you can and/or want, reblogs are appreciated to help spread the word!
that's pretty much the gist of the issue from what i've seen, but if anyone else has anything to add or a different way we could contact staff to make ourselves heard, please feel free to let me know!
TLDR: it's not just about prev tags, this update affects basic functionality and content creators as well
#pls reblog if u can to help spread the word!!#@anon this turned out a lot longer than i expected omg#i hope u don't mind me hijacking this ask to make a general informative post about this issue!!#ask#anonymous#tumblr#tumblr update#prev tags#signal boost#supportcontentcreators#evansyhelp#staff#long post for ts#196
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Wine Valentine - Ammon story pt.1 & pt.2
The day after The Valentine's party ended successfully.
While I was resting in my room I remembered the time I spent with Ammon...
A few days ago a party was held at Grosvenor's house...
I was visiting a party venue that Ammon and the others were preparing.
Ammon: So..! Will the wall decorations look like this?
You: Things are going well, aren't they?
Ammon: That's right. We have also decided on which food and wine will be served.
Ammon: The preparations are almost finished. I'll have some spare time.
You: Right.
Ammon: Ah, also. As we've come to Grosvenor's mansion...
Ammon: Aruji-sama. Should we take a walk in the garden?
You: Eh..?
Ammon: I took a glimpse at it as I was preparing for the party. It was a lovely garden.
Ammon: There aren't many chances to visit Grosvenor's garden. I'll make sure to escort aruji-sama properly♪
Ammon: So, aruji-sama... Will you spend some time with me?
You: That seems a bit intimate...
Ammon: Isn't that good..? There's no one here now.
Hanamaru: ... We are literally here?
Ammon: Oh? If it isn't Hanamaru-san.
Hanamaru: Don't "oh" me. We've been here from the very beginning.
Ammon: Hehe. My bad~
Ammon: There's only lord in my eyes...
Bastien: Hm... That's not good, Ammon-san.
Bastien: As aruji-sama's butler... You should always be aware of your surroundings.
Ammon: Are you serious, Bastien..
Yuhan: Fufu... I also don't think that it's good to keep things all to yourself, Ammon-san.
Lato: Me too... I also want to walk alone with aruji-sama.
Ammon: Hehe. Well, I guess I can't just monopolize aruji-sama~
Ammon: The Valentine's Day is almost there... I feel like spending some romantic time with aruji-sama.
You: "Romantic time" you say...
Ammon: Huh? After all, that's what the Valentine's day is about?
Hanamaru: Oh my... Don't just say that, Ammon. We're all holding back here.
Hanamaru: Isn't this right, everyone? We all want to be romantic with aruji-sama?
Yuhan: Now, what is it? I'm a well-mannered butler.
Hanamaru: Liar. For those who say that, it's better...
Yuhan: ...Better..? What is it?
Hanamaru: Nothing.
You: (I wonder what it was...)
Yuhan: Right. By the way, Ammon-san...
Yuhan: As the food and drinks were decided... How about to choose flowers to decorate the room?
Ammon: Right, flowers...
Ammon: In the eastern land... There's a custom to arrange flowers, right?
Lato: Arranging... flowers?
Ammon: Right. It's a bit different in Central land.
Ammon: Combined with a beautiful vase... A well-thought-out beauty.
Yuhan: Yeah. I think it's suitable for Central land.
Yuhan: Aside from ikebana, I think that "Chabana"(?) would also be good.
You: -Chabana...?
-( There are even tea flowers....)
Bastien: Chabana... That's the first time I heard about it.
Ammon: In short, tea flowers are the flowers that are displayed in the tea room.
Ammon: Rather than ikebana, it puts more emphasis on being natural. Seasonality of flowers is also the key.
Ammon: For example, fresh windflowers picked up in nature.
Hanamaru: Heh, as expected from Ammon. You know everything about flowers.
Ammon: Hehe. Well, not that I've done it myself. I just have this knowledge.
Ammon: But, I see. Chabana...
Ammon: In Grosvenor's garden flowers are grown in flower beds. Besides, there are windflowers...
Ammon: It might be interesting to try.
Ammon: That's why I need everyone to quickly pick up some flowers!
You: Eh, now?
Bastien: Looking for flowers..? I'm not sure which I should choose....
Ammon: That's okay. Even if the flower seems simple, that's its charm.
Bastien: I see. Then, Ammon-san will...?
Ammon: I'll arrange the vase.
Ammon: I'll prepare the vase that perfectly matches the atmosphere of Eastern land.
Ammon: I'll bring the catalog... I'd like to hear aruji-sama's opinion.
You: Mine?
Ammon: Of course. You're the guest at the party, after all.
Ammon: I don't think it'll be too difficult. Don't worry too much♪
You: Understood.
Bastien: I see.. I'll leave it to Ammon-san then.
Yuhan: Then, aruji-sama. Please, excuse me for a moment.
You: Mm, good luck.
The butlers bowed. They left me alone with Ammon as they left to pick up the windflowers.
Ammon: They're gone....
You: Let's choose the vase together.
Ammon: Oh-ho? What did you say, aruji-sama?
Ammon: What vase? I've already put one in another room next to ours. (This dude---)
You: Eh...?
Ammon: Hehe. Which flowers would decorate the venue have been decided in advance.
Ammon: We have arranged the perfect tableware... The only thing to do was to decorate it with flowers.
Ammon: Everyone decided to collect flowers by themselves.. I just went along with that♪
You: But, what for..?
Ammon: Hehe. That would be...
Ammon: I will spend some private time with aruji-sama♪
Ammon: Speaking of The Valentine's day... You need to spend time with your loved ones.
Ammon: And speaking of my loved ones, it's aruji-sama, of course.
Ammon: We have delicious wine here...
Ammon: With important to me person... Drinking wine, while being surrounded by beautiful flowers...
Ammon: Well, the flowers are still to be here. While aruji-sama is here, that's already enough.
Ammon: Hehe. What about aruji-sama?
Ammon: With your loved one... You don't want to loose romantic time, do you..?
You: Teasing me like that again...
Ammon: Teasing..? I'm being honest, aruji-sama.
Ammon: The words of feeling the importance of aruji-sama... There's not even a single lie.
Ammon: Thinking how to spend more alone time with aruji-sama... As a result, I alienated other butlers.
Ammon: Hey... What are the true intentions of aruji-sama..?
Ammon: For someone like me... Is it okay to tell my true feelings..?
You: A-Ammon..
I was fully aware that it was the part of his strategy, but... When I look in those serious eyes... I can't help but speak my true feelings.
Lato: Kufufu... That's it, Ammon-kun.
You: !?
Ammon: Oh? Isn't that Lato-san?
Ammon: And everyone else... Have you already finished picking the flowers up?
Hanamaru: No. Actually, we were interrupted by the guard.
Yuhan: He said that the flowers were needed to decorate the party venue...
Yuhan: "You can't pick these flowers! Go to a flower shop!" is what he said...
Yuhan: Jeez.. That's a real problem for those, who can't understand simple beauty.
Bastien: Since we had no other choice, we decided to come back.
Hanamaru: Hehe. Looks like we made the right decision.
Hanamaru: Had it been a bit later, Ammon would pick the most beautiful flower.
Ammon: No wa~y, Hanamaru-san. Don't say such bad things about me.
Ammon: I just wanted to enjoy the atmosphere of The Valentine's day. Surely, aruji-sama would understand that it's just for fun♪
Hanamaru: However, why is aruji-sama's face so red?
Lato: It's good that there are vases in other room.
You: U-Uhm...
Ammon: Alright, everyone! There's a little time left to prepare for the party.
Ammon: Let's all work hard to collect the most beautiful flowers♪
Hanamaru: Ah. Changing the topic.
Yuhan: Fufu. But Ammon-san is right.
Yuhan: Since we have time... Let's all work hard to make the best pre-party.
Bastien: Yeah.. That's right.
So I watched as Ammon and the others decorated the venue... I wonder whether Ammon was serious or not earlier...
***
"So that's how it is" I thought as I flipped through the wine catalog. Ammon was very hospitable at the pre-party... Now, it's my turn to repay him. I bought him wine from Rosetown... And for Ammon... I prepared his favorite cheese. Being happy with him... I wanted to express it in a gift.
Knock knock.
You: Come in.
Ammon: As I said, I came alone, aruji-sama~
Ammon: I heard that you wanted to do something...
Ammon: Hehe. Maybe it has to do something with The Valentine's day~?
You: I want to give this to you.
Ammon: Eh? This is...
Ammon: Wine..? And, could it be..
Ammon: Really... Could it be a Valentine's gift?
You: - That's right.
- Thank you, Ammon.
Ammon: Hehe. Thank you, aruji-sama.
Ammon: This is... Rosetown's wine, right?
You: Apparently it goes well with cheese.
Ammon: Really? You've adapted it to my taste!
You: If you'd like, you can drink now.
When I said that, Ammon sat at the table I had prepared in advance. He took the empty glass and some cheese.
Ammon: Hehe... I had never thought that I would spend The Valentine's day with aruji-sama...
Ammon: Of course, I'll drink some! Because everything is delicious when I'm with aruji-sama.
Ammon: So, excuse me...
As Ammon pour some wine into the glass, he fully enjoys the scent. As he takes one sip... He takes some time to enjoy the taste.
Ammon: ... It's delicious, aruji-sama.
Ammon: The moment you open the bottle, there's a faint fragrance...
Ammon: It felt like flowers had bloomed in my mouth.
Ammon: Aruji-sama's feelings... They feel like flowers with no thorns.
Ammon: Hehe. I can't believe you gave me such a wonderful present...
Ammon: Really... Aruji-sama likes me♪
As usual, Ammon says something that is hard for me to respond to... But today I was a little braver than usual.
You: I really do.
Ammon: Eh...
You: I want you to continue being by my side.
Ammon: Erm... Aruji-sama...
Ammon: That's... Could it be....
Ammon: The revenge for pre-party time?
You: Did your heart flutter...?
Ammon: Hehe. It pretty much did♪
Ammon: I've never expected it from aruji-sama...
Ammon: But... If you allow me to give you a piece of advice...
Ammon: Don't you think the main part was revealed a little bit too early?~
Ammon: If only you could make me more nervous... It'd be more interesting~
You: I'm nothing like Ammon...
Ammon: Hehe. Well, I'm a pro in this sphere.
Ammon: ( Although, if I was more nervous... I doubt that I'd be able to restrain myself...)
You: What's wrong?
Ammon: N-No... Nothing!
Ammon: Spending The Valentine's day with aruji-sama is the best... I had to clench my teeth.
Ammon: Well then. We have wine and cheese...
Ammon: Just a little bit longer... Is it okay if I spend some more time being happy? Aruji-sama...
You: Of course.
Although I said something like that to make Ammon's heart flutter, I had to gather all my courage up.... I had to back up... I was more nervous, than I thought I'd be. And now... I wonder if Ammon always harbors feelings like that. While I was thinking about it... I spent some time with Ammon on The Valentine's day.
THE END.
a/n: I really hope you don't mind my adapted translation because holy shit the translation of translator is something. also, please don't mind any grammatical errors, it's literally like midnight and I suck at grammar. hope y'all enjoyed seeing blushing ammon. (because i really did)
#akuneko#aknk#あくねこ#悪魔執事と黒い猫#holy shit#it took longer than i expected#i love this man so much#i love it when aruji-sama is bold#slay#BLUSHING AMMON>>>>#god it's my favorite card now#i adore yuhan and hanamaru's interactions#more blushing men please#god help me#hope yall enjoy
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Ever wonder how many fics a ship has?
Well, wonder no more! For I have spent the last... 3-4 hours creating a chart to show how many fics a pairing has romantically and platonically!
Some things to keep in mind: fics can have multiple pairings, so the totals per character may not add up perfectly. This also means the averages aren't exact either, but they'll give you an idea of how rare a pairing is. The totals also give an idea of how popular a character is.
Only 2-character pairings are listed - I didn't want to figure out how to list every possible poly combination. I may add poly-units in the future though, but I won't include them in the averaging at all.
Also, fun fact An is the most annoying to search up because her name is within Kohane and Kanade's, so I had to use Shiraishi to search for her instead.
#ramblings#resources#project sekai#colorful stage#rui and tsukasa are such outliers I swear#touya and akito are too but not to that extent#yeah today I learned how to use functions and that I love sheets#but I am now so very tired because this took so much longer than I expected#but to be fair I had to search for 400 numbers and set up 42 formulas lol#really hope someone finds this helpful#that would make me very happy#but yeah I keep thinking a rare pair event would be super cool#and that made me wonder what a rare pair really was#since the number of fics varies depending on fandom size#I'd prolly consider it anything under the average#just for simplicity#actually wait I need to add an average of all the pairings not just character totals#will add that after I post this LOL
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