#also. also. consider that if a woman's name changes in each book that mentions her... maaaaybe she wasn't real?

[ihavedonenothingright]

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh boy. I just had to read an article on the vestal virgins full of all of the most egregious examples of 2010s millenial humor, and the worst part is? It's ahistorical. It's actively wrong about several things because it repeats the mytho-histories of Livy and Cassius Dio and Dionysius of Halicarnassus as fact. So I had to sit through a series of jokes that included parentheses after them telling me to "stop laughing" AND read a blatantly incorrect account of a topic I have a great deal of knowledge about.

Anyway, to comfort myself I looked up five papers I've previously referenced in my writing on the vestals, and the works of Livy, Cassius Dio, Dionysius, Cicero, and Plutarch. I am going to come into class tomorrow and destroy this thing.

[jarofstyles]

Use Your Head

Hi my love bugs!! Part two to Migraine is here. I'm sorry it took me a bit to edit. Last half of the original one shot but I am already planning/ have written a few patreon exclusive extensions for them. Enjoy!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 260+ exclusive writings

WC- 11.2k

Warnings- mentions of alcoholism/addiction, anxiety, prior bullying, smut, biting, soft dom!Harry, unprotected sex, creampie, slight moment of choking

Over the following weeks, Harry made a conscious effort to change how he interacted with Y/N. No more constant teasing, no more overly loud jokes to try and capture her attention. No more being straight up obnoxious. 

Instead, he found himself bringing her coffee on days he knew she was fighting a migraine, asking genuinely about her day, and going out of his way to make her life a little bit easier. It wasn’t just the guilt of it that was the driving force. Y/N was so lovely, so sweet. He’d been stupid to think that just because she was quiet that she was being judgmental or that she didn’t like him- because if he’d bothered to sit and listen to the whispers she did let out, he’d have been as enamored as he was now, months ago. And that was saying something considering how his crush had festered.

 Oddly enough, he had shared bits of his life with her that he usually kept private. It was something his therapist said was a defense mechanism for him, using humor to get people to like him but also succeed without opening up- but Y/N seemed to genuinely listen. She remembered stuff he said about his childhood dog or the fact cilantro tasted like soap to him. And to his surprise, she started opening up too - albeit cautiously. Her quiet demeanor made their late-night office chat sessions when they had to finish projects more special somehow, each small exchange feeling earned rather than forced.

It had started with her coffee order- iced mocha when she was drinking for enjoyment but an americano was ideal when she was approaching a headache for optimal caffeine. Then it ventured into the little fun facts that had him keeping a mental log of the obscure things he picked up along the way. 

She was really good at using chopsticks, she kept a tea kettle in her office and tea bags- including the ones he’d gotten her- which she would let him have if he asked.  She had a pet rabbit at home named Mocha, in honor of her favorite drink. She went to bed at exactly midnight (or tried to when her sleeping issue didn’t bug her) every night. She preferred the shape of anatomical hearts over the standard ones used for Valentine’s Day. She had an extensive TBR (he found out it meant To Be Read from google later) but she kept falling for sales and she was a sucker for a good romance so she had books in piles all over her place. All the things he learned were kept up in his head as precious information to use to make her feel more seen, more comfortable. 

So when she had mentioned having trouble falling asleep the last few days, he had taken it upon himself to grab her something his mum recommended. “It’s called sleepy time tea? S’got the cute bear on the box, so it must be decent.” He sat across from her in the break room, sliding the box across the table to her. “My mum used to deal with insomnia and she liked this one a lot. It may not fix everything but it helps make you drowsy.”

The woman glanced down at the tea box, a small smile tugging at her lips as she took in the cute bear illustration. She picked up the box, examining it further to see the ingredients before meeting Harry's gaze. "Your mum has good taste." She remarked, her voice soft but genuinely appreciative. Y/N tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a gesture Harry was starting to recognize as a sign she was a little flustered. It usually followed something he did for her. "I'll give it a try tonight. Hopefully, it helps me sleep better than counting sheep."

“Mhm.. I hope so too. I don’t mean to keep throwing gifts and stuff at you, but I remembered you saying you were frustrated by it and figured I’d ask someone who’s dealt with that stuff before.” (Harry slept like a log,so he wasn’t much help.) He tapped his fingers against his thigh in a slightly anxious pattern. It wasn’t like he was going crazy- he mainly got her coffee or in this case, tea, but the last thing he wanted to do was make it seem like he was buying her friendship. “Did you submit your part of the project yet?”

"Yeah, finally got that done yesterday," The answer came with a small smile forming as she looked up from the tea box. "I actually managed to get through the presentation without forgetting any bullet points or stuttering this time." Placing the tea carefully in her bag, the corner of her lips curling up a bit more. Fucking adorable. "Thanks for checking in though. Most people don't care about these tiny details." The truth was, she found it sweet when he did. It showed he actually listened to her talking about work stress. "Want to grab lunch later?"

Harry's face lit up at her invitation, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I'd love that,"  He accepted easily, his voice warm and sincere. As if he would ever say no to that. "How about we go to that new sushi place down the street? I've been dying to try it out." Leaning back in his chair, he watched as she pulled up the menu on her phone. "My treat, of course. As a thank you for being so patient with me and my... previous behavior."

“Harry, you don’t have to keep making up for it. I believe you. We’re friends.” She sighed, tapping on top of the table. “You can let go of that guilt. Okay? You’ve proven yourself every day to me. As long as you don’t turn around and be a dick for no reason again, I’m fine. Really.”

A small laugh escaped him as he nodded, genuinely grateful for her understanding. It wasn’t something he probably deserved, but she was too good. "Alright, alright. No more guilt trips." He leaned forward on his desk, fingers drumming against the wood. "And I mean it, by the way. I'm truly not trying to buy your friendship with gifts. Though..." he pause. "If I wanted to treat a friend to sushi, would you say no?" The word 'friend' felt strange in his mouth now - almost too casual considering how much time they'd spent together lately.

She gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t need you to treat me, H. Really.” It seemed like he did like to do it regardless but he’d be really sweet. As much as she didn’t need the extra things, the coffees or little treats he got her, it did make her feel appreciated- though she didn’t admit it too often because she knew he’d keep doing it.

"I know you don't need me to," he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "But I want to. And besides, it's not like I'm buying you a whole new wardrobe or anything." He stood up from his desk, walking around to stand in front of her. "Let me just spoil you a little bit, okay? It makes me happy to do nice things for you." He gave her a small, sincere smile, his eyes searching hers. "Please?"

She sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes but ultimately gave in to his puppy dog eyes. Those things were brutal. "Fine, fine," she conceded, crossing her arms over her chest. "But only because you look pathetic begging like that." 

Harry's face lit up with a triumphant grin. "See? Was that so hard?" He chuckled, ruffling her hair slightly before she could swat his hand away. "Alright, sushi it is then. My treat."

—-

Harry found himself more relaxed than usual during their lunch. He’d been dying to try it since he’d seen a review in the paper and there was no one else he’d rather eat with right now. Being around her felt exciting just as much as it was relaxing. She was so calm and sweet, making him feel at ease even though sometimes he felt like he was buzzing when she gave him her attention. 

Was this the shit he had been missing out on when he could have just spoken to her without acting out? He’d wasted a lot of time, but she was thankfully far more gracious than he would have expected her to be. They sat across from each other at a small table by the window, the sunlight creating a warm glow around them. The conversation flowed easily, no lulls. Y/N was by far the easiest person to talk to once she warmed up to you, and he was finding out the pleasures of getting closer to her every day. "You know," the man hummed, picking up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks, "the whole office is going to drinks tonight." He paused, studying her face. "Are you planning on..."

"Going?" She finished his question, laughing softly. "Probably. I don't go out much, so when they suggest it, I’ve been trying say yes." She picked up an egg roll, dipping it in soy sauce. "You?" She asked, meeting his gaze. He was struck by how pretty her eyes were, how they almost sparkled when she laughed. It was weird how beautiful she was. How people didn’t put their foot in their mouths like he had whenever he had been around her prior. It was distracting in the best of ways.  Damn it, he really liked her.

 "Yeah, I'll go," He said, pulling himself together. The last couple of times he had ditched mainly because he had been trying to catch up on some other stuff, but considering he knew for sure Y/N would be there? There was no way he wouldn’t. "The whole marketing team will be there. You too?"

"The whole marketing team," she confirmed, nodding her head. "Including Laura and Tom, who always end up drunk and arguing about whatever anyone wants to bring up." She took a sip of her iced strawberry açaí green tea, a small smile tugging at her lips at the memory of the last office outing where exactly that had happened. "And probably Jennifer from HR, who always tries to get everyone to play truth or dare like we’re still in school. I mean, considering she’s HR she has to know that would be a major violation. Sometimes I think she tries to get it to happen so she has something to do at work considering everything is usually relaxed." Y/N laughed softly, setting her chopsticks down. "Will you be there the whole time? Or will you bow out halfway through?" Sometimes Y/N got a little overstimulated from being out at places like that and she had to leave.

"I usually stay the whole time. You know me, supposed party animal." Harry shrugged his shoulder at the title.  She was like a different person when she wasn’t at the office. He was too, obviously, but it felt more dramatic when it came to her. "But actually I… I don’t drink.” His face shifted before he smiled again, though it didn’t fully reach his eyes. “I'm the one who usually calls cabs at the end of the night when everyone is hammered." The words seemed casual enough as he picked up another piece of sushi, but there was something unsaid. 

“Oh!” She was somehow a little surprised at that. Something about Harry did give ‘party animal’ but it was mostly his extroverted nature. “I’m glad you still come out then. I can have a drink or two if I feel like it but it’s not really my thing, you know? I’m not a fan of the taste so I go for the fruity or sweet stuff.” She set her chopsticks down to give her tummy a break. The suggestion had been really good, actually. It may as well be added to her take out rotation. “It’s nice of you to do that for them, Har. Really.” She had tried not to pay him much mind in the past but the kindness wasn’t overlooked now.

"It's no big deal," He waved off her compliment, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He always did it without expecting anything in return, but hearing her say it made him feel a little warm inside. He liked that she was noticing these things now. “I um, I used to struggle with alcohol. Drinking too much. It was a nasty habit I picked up in uni and I didn’t realize how bad it was getting.” Clearing his throat, he looked down towards his plate. “S’been 5 years. It doesn’t bother me to see other people drink so it’s fine when I go out. But yeah it’s… S’a interesting dynamic.” He had no idea why he chose now to tell her that. It wasn’t something he ever really talked about at all, but… Y/N felt like a safe person.

"You're the first person at work who knows about that." He admitted quietly, stealing glances at her face to gauge her reaction. He'd spent months being an asshole around her, and now he was trusting her with this? Something vulnerable, genuinely real. Something he usually only shared with close friends or his therapist. "Most people assume I just don't drink because I'm some kind of saint." He managed a small laugh, but it was edged with something more vulnerable. "Though I’d appreciate it if you could keep that between us. I’ll take the party animal jokes over them knowing..."

“Harry, I would never.” She interrupted, reaching for his hand with concern on her face. “First of all, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You realized you had a problem and you did what you needed to do to better your life. That’s fucking amazing!” It was rare to hear her cuss but it felt like an appropriate time. “Addiction can happen to anyone at any time. But I can assure you there is no way in hell that I’d try and tell anyone your business. You trusting me enough to tell me that isn’t lost on me, okay?” Stroking her thumb over the top of his hand, she gave him a little smile.

"Damn." He laughed softly, his shoulders relaxing. He hadn't expected her to get it so quickly. Most people just made recovery sound like something that he should hide, like it was something dirty or shameful. She made it sound like any other condition. "You get it," He said slowly, his voice lower. "Like, really get it. You're not going to make a joke or something?" He wouldn’t have blamed her considering how he had treated her before. But Y/N would never. That was the difference. He had been a bit used to people reacting negatively.

“Nope. No need for jokes.” She didn’t even think about that. “We don’t even have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to. That information is safe with me. I don’t need anything else from it. We can just move on and talk about it another time, okay?” Squeezing his larger hand with her own, all she wanted to do was make him comfortable. They’d have to head back to work soon and she didn't want the conversation to get cut off if they got deeper into it, but she really appreciated him opening up. Never would she have thought that. Then again, even after the last few weeks of getting closer, there was still so much to him that she didn’t know.

Harry nodded, giving her hand a grateful squeeze back before reluctantly letting go as they both stood to throw out their trash. "Thanks." he said softly, meeting her gaze. "Seriously. That means a lot." As they walked back towards the office, he couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through his chest as their hands brushed each others every so often. She had handled that revelation with such compassion and grace, without any of the judgment he'd feared.

 It was yet another reason why he was slowly falling for her, despite his best efforts not to.

———

The usual crowd was filling up the bar - coworkers laughing loudly, ordering rounds of shots. Y/N sat at a high-top table with a few of the infamous marketing team members, sipping her second drink- another Diet Coke, as he had heard her order. Across the table, Laura and Tom were already getting heated in their friendly argument about the rightful winner of the Grammy’s. Meanwhile, Harry leaned against the bar, ordering water for himself and checking his phone occasionally, but mostly keeping an eye on Y/N.

 It was hard to keep his eyes off of her at all, especially after she had taken her blazer off and showed her arms in the tank top she’d had underneath it. So distracting, in fact, that he’d barely noticed someone from accounting, a blonde named Michelle he’d talked to a few times, saddled up next to him. "Hey Harry."

Michelle batted her eyelashes at him, ordering herself a vodka cranberry from the bartender before turning her attention back to Harry. "You're looking pretty bored standing here by yourself," She remarked, leaning against the bar next to him. "Why don't you come sit with us?" Her hand gestured towards a group of her friends from accounting, who were laughing and drinking nearby. Harry, however, barely spared her a glance before responding politely, "Nah, I'm good here. Thank you for the offer though."

"Come on, you're usually the life of the party. Don't tell me you're just going to stand here all night." Michelle persisted, adjusting her top slightly. Normally, that kind of fljrting could worked - but the way she had said it put him off. Besides, all Harry could focus on was Y/N laughing with her team members across the room. "Look, I actually need to... Excuse me." He mumbled, excusing himself from Michelle before she could protest. Finding his way back to Y/N, he leaned down to whisper her ear. It was closer than he usually got to her and he tried not to let that get him distracted. “Please help me. Michelle’s been bothering me the last few times n’I really don’t want t’be wrapped up in all of that.”

As he spoke into her ear, Y/N could feel the warmth of his breath against her neck, sending shivers down her back that she quickly ignored. Hopefully he wouldn’t be able to notice any of the chills on her arms. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating up close, the sweetened spice making it hard to focus on the task at hand - helping him avoid Michelle. "Uh sure- What do you need help with?" She asked, turning her head to look up at him, their faces inches apart. He looked so frustrated, and for some reason, seeing him like that made her stomach flutter.

His eyes locked with hers, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes that made his stomach drop - was it just the light, or was she actually looking at him like that? He pushed the thought aside, focusing on his problem. "Can you come t’the bar and lean into me or something?" He asked quietly. "So Michelle gets the hint that I’m not interested?" He needed a buffer, and Y/N being up close to him would probably do the trick. "Please?" He added, using his puppy dog eyes to his advantage.

Y/N obliged, standing up from her seat and following Harry to the bar. As they stood side by side, she leaned into his arm slightly, making it look like they were engaged in a conversation. Michelle, noticing it quite quickly, sauntered back over to the bar, looking miffed. "Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?" She asked, trying to insert herself between them. Harry wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist lightly, pulling her closer. "Not really the best time. M’in the middle of something.”

Y/N could take a hint, looping her arm around him in turn, leaning her face against his shirt. Giving a light smile, as a response to the woman who seemed weirdly annoyed that a man that had nothing to do with her was so close to another woman. “We’re gonna leave soon, so maybe you guys can talk another day.” It wasn’t exactly catty, but it was an insinuation that they’d be leaving together. 

Michelle could put things together and make up her own mind. They could deal with that gossip later.

Michelle's face dropped, clearly not expecting such a casual display of familiarity between them. Harry felt Y/N's head resting on his chest and almost lost his breath for a second - it felt more natural than it should have. Her slight weight against him made his arm circle around her waist more securely, and he tried to focus on maintaining his composure instead of how good she smelled right now. "Yeah..." He said to Michelle, letting the word trail off as if he couldn't even be bothered with her now. "I'll catch you later."

As they stood there, Y/N's hand found its way to his back, her fingers running over the fabric of his blazer and then his dress shirt underneath. It was a simple, casual gesture, but it sent a jolt of warmth through Harry's entire body. He felt like he was melting, his arm around her waist tightening slightly as he tried to subtly pull her closer. Her hand felt so small and warm against his back, and he found himself leaning down slightly to nuzzle his face into her hair, breathing in her scent. “S’this okay with you?” He was double checking for her assurance. “Don’t want you to feel like you have t’make yourself uncomfortable for me.”

Michelle had walked away and Y/N didn’t feel the need to pull away. As nerve wracking as it was, she tried to push them off as she had felt him relax into her. He was sweet, he really was. This was the Harry under all the layers of peacocking and jokes. The type of man she actually really had begun to like.  “I’m okay.” Tilting her head up to meet his eyes, she gave him a shy smile. “Are you okay?”

"Yeah. M’great, actually." He responded softly, watching her face. God, she was so pretty. Here she was making his stomach flip with one small smile. "You know what would make this a little more believable?" He asked quietly, his voice lower than before. He was testing the waters, really. He had no idea if she'd go along with this. "If I put my hands here." He demonstrated slowly, spreading his hands over her lower back. “S’that good?”

As his hands found their way to her lower back, Y/N could feel the tingling spreading across her stomach and up her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching, trying to gauge his expression. His hands felt big and protective on her back, making her feel small and safe. She didn't pull away, instead, she found herself leaning into his touch slightly. "Yeah, that’s... It’s nice." The reply was whispered, hoping he didn’t catch the slight quiver in her breath.

Harry watched closely as she swallowed hard, her eyes flicking down to his mouth briefly. Truthfully he was an idiot for thinking doing this would have no effect on him - here she was making his body react like he was a teenager again. It hadn’t been thought through- that didn’t mean he would stop, though. His thumbs moved slightly, massaging her lower back lightly. He saw her eyes close softly, almost like she was enjoying it.

Unable to resist the temptation, Harry leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing her ear. "You're doing great," he murmured, his voice a low, soft rumble. He couldn't help but notice how perfectly she fit against him, like she was meant to be there. His hands shifted slightly, pulling her a fraction closer. "Michelle's long gone now, but..." He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. "D’you think we pretend for just a little longer?"

"Mhm," she hummed softly. It was hard not to show that she was borderline giddy at the suggestion. Her hand pressed more firmly against his back, hooking her fingers in his belt loops showing she had no plans to move away anytime soon. Instead, she leaned her head to rest back against his chest. 

The way her body fit against his was doing things to him - things he shouldn't be thinking about right now. Like about how she smelled so good it was making him feel antsy to inhale her scent. 

"How long d'you need?" She asked, her voice soft but steady. A small smile played on her lips as she felt his heartbeat against her ear.

"Just... five more minutes, maybe." He murmured, his voice hoarse. He didn't want to let her go, not yet. Not when she felt this good in his arms. "And then... maybe we could go somewhere quieter? Talk, if you want?" He suggested, his hand slowly sliding up her back and down to her hip. Harry was playing with fire, he knew that, but he couldn't help himself. Not when she was being so sweet, so willing to do this with him. 

“Yeah. You can drive me back to my place. Or yours.” It was a decision in a while that she was going to let him  read into however he wanted. Y/N was welcoming any bit of what could happen. If it was to truly talk somewhere else, or… more. She would be open to it.

The words had him almost losing his breath, his body tightening slightly. He wasn’t sure what he’d imagined her response to be, but it certainly hadn't expected her to suggest that. "So if I said... let me take you home to mine' - you wouldn't have a problem with that?" He asked slowly, his thumbs moving back and forth on Harry lower back possessively. He was trying to read between the lines. Was she being friendly, or was she being flirtatious? Christ, he hoped it was the latter.

“No. No problem with that.” In any other circumstances, she’d be embarrassed with how breathy her voice sounded as she replied to him. His voice was deep and soft just for her, making her feel the heat pooling in her tummy. “You can take me home, Harry.”

His pulse quickened, hope surging through him at her breathy confirmation. He swallowed hard, letting it hit him with how much he wanted this. Wanted her. "Alright then," the answer was spoken, his voice thick with restrained desire. "Let's get out of here."

———-

The drive to his place was silent but tense, filled with unspoken words and heavy glances. As soon as they pulled into his driveway, Harry turned off the engine and looked at Y/N, his eyes searching hers for any bit of apprehension- but he found none. She seemed at peace, if not a little bit happy about the situation, and he wasn’t about to waste any time. Getting out of the car, he walked around to her side, and opened her door for her - a gentlemanly habit he'd picked up and kept up. He led the way to his house, unlocking the door and stepping inside, closing it behind them.

“Did you really want to talk?” Y/N asked, peering up at him from her lashes as she took a step towards him. The foyer of his house was dimly lit, but she could see how intently he was staring at her. “Or did you bring me home to do something else?”

"I had some things I wanted to say, yeah." he admitted quietly, his voice deeper than she had heard it before, similar to how he’d spoken at the bar. There was an edge to it, one that made her feel… exhilarated. "But right now..." His hand found her waist naturally, pulling her into him. "I think there's something else I want more." He paused, his thumb moving in small circles on her hip.

“Yeah?” She whispered back, allowing herself to lean into him. “And what is that?”

"You." The words whispered were cut off before she could respond, pressing his lips against hers in a soft, gentle kiss. It started slow, almost questioning- as if he was waiting for her to pull away. Giving her the chance to do so. But when she didn't, when she leaned into it instead, his free arm snaked around her to pull her even closer. The kiss deepened, becoming a little more desperate as he felt her against him. His fingers tightened on her hip, his other hand coming up to cup her cheek, tilting her head slightly to kiss her more thoroughly.

Y/N melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back just as needy. A small noise escaped the back of her throat, one that he swallowed with his mouth greedily. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly as she felt him groan against her lips.

Her fingers in his hair made him feel like he may lose it a little bit. Everything about Y/N called to him, but her knowing what to do without ever being told spurred him on further. Deepening the kiss further, he traced her bottom lip with his tongue and bit back a second groan at what he found. She tasted fucking perfect - sweet and subtle, like honey and peppermint, a tiny hint of her sticky soda from the bar. His own personal new favorite flavor. 

 One hand slid down her back to palm over her ass while the other cradled her face, keeping her exactly where he wanted her, practicing that control he liked to keep. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, matching his own heartbeat- But when she let out the soft whimper against his lips as it seemed like he may pull back, pressing herself closer against him instead?  Harry thought he might lose his mind.

Harry pushed her carefully backwards, taking her with him until she hit the wall. Breaking the kiss, he started to trail his lips down her neck, sucking and nipping gently at her wherever he could reach. "You taste so sweet." He murmured against her skin. "I want t’kiss you everywhere." It punctuated his words with a particularly hard suck on her neck, knowing it would leave a mark- wanting it to leave one- as his hips pressed against hers, letting her feel exactly what she was doing to him.

She gasped, head tilting back to give him better access. Hands fisted in his shirt, she tugged him closer as she felt the hard evidence of his arousal press against her stomach. "Harry," she whimpered, voice shaky. "Bite me." The words were out before she could even think about them, a demand rather than a request. She wanted his mark, wanted evidence that this really happened. Even if it was just for tonight- though she wanted more than just once. “Please? Jus’ a little bit. I want to feel your teeth on my neck.” Her hips rocked forward slightly, seeking friction.

The growl that rumbled in his chest at her words was primal, sending a shiver through her body. "Fuck, you're perfect." Harry murmured before grazing his teeth against her sensitive skin and sinking them into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He bit down hard, not with the goal of breaking the skin but applying enough pressure that she would definitely have a mark in the morning- just as she requested.

She cried out, arching her back to give him more access as he bit down. He could feel her nails digging into his back through his shirt, pulling him closer as if she was afraid he might stop. "More." Y/N begged, panting heavily. "Harder." What she wanted was  the ache, wanted the reminder on her skin that he was really here, really doing this. "Harry, please..." She whimpered, turning her head to try and pull him into biting her again. "Again."

“I’ve got t’be careful, sweetheart.” He cooed against her skin, nipping underneath the mark he had left. “Do you like the pain, hm? Or do you like the marks?”

Y/N moaned, trying to tilt her head further to give him better access to her neck. "Both," she breathed out shakily, her body tensing as he nipped underneath the mark. "I like the pain because it hurts so good, and I like the marks because they remind me... they remind me you were really here, doing this, not just in my head." She was rambling, but she couldn't seem to shut up as he kept marking her up. "Can you give me another one?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, you can have another one." He crooned, biting down on the same spot on the other side, applying a little more pressure this time. There was doubt in his mind that he could really say no to her, not when she asked him with that tone, those eyes, and the taste of her on his tongue.  He could feel her trembling against him, hear the desperate whimpering sounds she was making. He loved it, loved how responsive she was to him, how easily he could reduce her to a shaking mess. 

"Fuck, look at you..." He murmured, pulling back slightly to admire his handiwork. Sure enough, there were two perfect bite marks on either side of her neck. She looked claimed, marked - and Christ, it turned him on more than anything else. Before she could react, he grabbed her chin, tilting her face up for another kiss. This one was rougher, more urgent than before, his tongue plunging into her mouth. One hand slid down her waist while the other tangled in her hair.

His fingers gripped her hair taut, holding her in place as he kissed her like he was starving for it, for her. His other hand squeezed her ass almost too tightly as he ground himself against her, conveying his mounting desperation without words. Each nip and suck at her lips sent jolts straight to his cock, making him impossibly harder, if that was even possible. He swallowed every whimper and moan greedily, addicted to her sounds.

"Fuck, darling." Harry whispered against her lips as he pulled back to let her breath. His hand slipped into her trousers to get a better handful of her, feeling her hum at the intrusion. All he needed was her warmth, the feel of her on his skin. He could die happy like that, most likely. 

Letting his fingers play with the edge of her panties, he knew he was in some sort of dream. After months of crushing on her, even when he had been failing, he’d dreamt of this. "You're killing me here." His breathing became heavier as he squeezed the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her harder against him. One hand kept her hair tight while the other dipped lower, almost slipping beneath the fabric but pausing uncertainly. "Can I..." he trailed off, waiting for her permission before actually sliding beneath, his voice rough with need. "Can I touch you, baby?"

Y/N let out a shaky breath, nodding almost frantically against his lips. "Yes, please." The reply was a shaking whisper, her heart racing wildly like a little hummingbird. "I want your hands on me, Harry. Anywhere, everywhere." She was so turned on, so desperate for his touch that she couldn't even think straight. His hesitation had only added to her desire, making her want him even more. "Just... please, touch me," she begged, her hips rolling against his in encouragement. "I need it."

"God, you're killing me." He growled softly, picking her up easily by her thighs. Realistically, he had been waiting for this day for ages and he wasn’t going to take her in his foyer- regardless of how badly he was tempted to. Y/N deserved a proper fuck, which included being in his bed. Somewhere she was meant to be. Hopefully one day they’d do it out here, but today was not that day. 

Thankfully there was no protest from his little dove, her legs wrapping around him automatically as he lifted her up, allowing him to walk them towards his bedroom without breaking the kiss. He couldn't get enough of her lips, her taste, anything that had to do with her. Greedy, he was so fucking greedy for anything he could get from her. 

Kicking his door open, he wasted little time dropping her onto his mattress softly, listening to her sweet giggle as she bounced on it. Watching hungrily as her shirt rode up slightly, the deposits of her body revealing more of her stomach. "Off." He ordered softly, unbuttoning his own shirt slowly. "Take your top off." Harry wanted it off. He needed to see her.

She sat up slightly, unbuttoning her blouse slowly, revealing the plain white camisole underneath that had been a layer under the sleeveless top. His eyes were locked onto her hands, watching intently as she revealed more and more of her silky skin. "Now the cami." He urged, his voice dropping lower as he unbuckled his belt, his mind desperate to see the heaven underneath.  His unbuttoned shirt tossed haphazardly onto the floor, revealing his tattooed torso. "I want it all off, sweetheart. Don’t want a lick of fabric between you and my hands."

Her hands moved slowly, deliberately, savoring the attention. She lifted the bottom of her camisole, slowly letting it peel off of her body to reveal her bare chest. Her breath hitched as she looked up at Harry, seeing that intensity in his eyes. He was staring at her like she was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen, and it made her feel powerful, desired. Never in her life had she imagined that Harry of all people would be the one to make her feel that way. She let the man stare as he pleased, letting her hair fall off her shoulders from where she had it up as she sat there, completely bare from the waist up.

“Fuck me.” He groaned, hands itching to touch. Holy shit. He had almost lost it. Her body was insane - full breasts with pretty nipples that hardened under his gaze. He had the  urge to taste them, suck on them until she let out the pretty noises he’d gotten hints of - but he didn't move. Harry wanted to see all of her first. "Off, all of it. Told you. Need t’see all of you." He ordered again softly, his voice hoarse with restraint. He watched as she shimmied out of her pants slowly, revealing black lace panties underneath. "Baby," His voice was slightly breathless as she kicked the fabric off, letting it fall in a pile beside his bed. "I think… that you're trying to kill me."

The sight of Y/N naked in his bed almost knocked the breath clean out of him. Here was this incredibly sexy woman, somebody he'd fantasized about for months, laid out before him like a goddamn dream. The soft curves of her body, the smooth planes of her skin, those pretty tits moving in time with her slightly labored breath—it was almost too much. His cock was rock hard, straining against his zipper, aching to be buried inside her. “You are the most gorgeous little thing.” He murmured, undoing the button of his trousers as he stepped closer to her form. “I knew you would look good in my bed, but fucks sake, Kitten.” He reached for her face, tilting her chin up. “Think you were made t’be here.”

As he reached for her face Y/N shifted her mouth, catching his thumb between her soft lips and sucking on it gently. The feeling of her mouth wrapped around his thumb, the subtle tug as she sucked, was incredibly intimate and distracting. Harry's eyes rolled back slightly, a low groan escaping his throat as he stared down at her.

As Y/N sucked his thumb with increasing pressure, her other hand deftly moved to his zipper, tugging it down slowly. The sensation of her hot mouth contrasted deliciously with the cool air hitting his exposed skin. He couldn't help but shudder, his hips rocking involuntarily as his aching erection sprang free. "Holy fuck." he gasped, watching her through hooded eyes. She maintained eye contact, her tongue swirling around his thumb teasingly as her fingers brushed lightly over his straining cock.

He wanted those full lips wrapped around him so badly he ached. He wanted to feel her warm breath against his stomach, the gentle suction around the tip of his cock, the way she looked up at him with those big eyes. "Enough of my thumb. We both know what it is y’really want." He growled, his voice thick as he gently pulled her thumb out of her mouth, smearing her lipstick with the saliva coating his digit as he dragged it over her lip. 

"Think it’s time for you to wrap those pretty lips around something else now." Letting his trousers fall to the floor along with his briefs in one go was exactly what he needed. Hissing slightly, he grabbed his painfully hard dick in his hand and swiped the leaking slit with his spit and lipstick coated thumb, watching her eyes as they took in every motion. “See what you did t’me? Been doin’ this to me for ages, sweet girl.” He mumbled, guiding his cock towards her swollen lips. "Do you want to suck on it

like you were sucking my thumb?"

Y/N looked up at him with those big, doe eyes, her lipstick slightly smudged from the drag of his thumb. She could feel the warm, heavy weight of him in her hand as she wrapped her fingers around his base tentatively. She could already taste the saltiness on her thumb where she had swiped the bead of moisture from his tip. "Can I?" she whispered, parting her lips slightly, inviting him in. "Like this?"

"Fuck yes," he breathed out intensely, watching as those perfect lips parted. His hand moved to the back of her head gently, not pushing, but guiding. "Just like that. Nice n’slow for me." He wanted to savor the moment she took him in for the first time, make sure it felt good for both of them. Her small hand wrapped around his base felt amazing, but he needed more.

Y/N stuck her tongue out slightly, swiping over the tip of his length. He watched hungrily as she gathered the bead of liquid there, tasting him carefully. "Mhm," she hummed softly, wrapping her lips around her teeth to hide her smile. It wasn’t something he had expected but he found it incredibly sexy - she was savoring his taste. Her pink tongue peeked out again, licking over the head like a sweet, swirling around the sensitive underside. Surely it was something he should have expected, but it made him shiver slightly, his hips jerking involuntarily. “Shit. You’re a sweet little thing everywhere, aren’t you darlin’?”

His dirty words made her stomach flutter and her core clench. She liked them too much, especially when they were laced with that deep voice. She dragged the flat of her tongue slowly down his length from base to tip. Taking her time with him was exactly what she wanted. Weeks of getting to know each other, the quiet attraction building until it was too loud to ignore, this had been on her mind more than she could admit yet. His stomach contracted sharply as she did it again slowly, watching him through her lashes. Y/N was putting on a show. 

The woman wanted to drive him crazy, wanted him to bend to her and feel as much as she had.

Harry was losing his mind. His hips were rocking gently, trying to encourage her down further each time she swiped her tongue down. She was torturing him slowly, deliberately - he could see the mischievous glint in her eye behind her lashes. He could feel his orgasm beginning to roll over just from her tongue lathing over him - but she hadn’t even taken him in her mouth yet. "Tease." The groan was loaded as he scraped her hair into his hand, pulling her back up to the tip. “C’mon, sweetheart. Suck on me a bit. Rub your little clit while y’do it. Get yourself wet f’me.”

She let out a shaky breath at his command, slipping one hand between her legs. Her fingers found her clit easily, already swollen and sensitive from all the teasing and tension they had between them. While she circled herself slowly, she opened her mouth wider, letting the tip of his length slide between her lips.  Moaning softly, vibrations pulsing around him as she slowly worked herself with her fingers. 

She was beautiful - eyes closed, lipstick smudged, fingers busy between her legs while she took his cock into that perfect mouth.

Harry knew she was getting wetter just from the sounds she was making around his length as she suckled gently, her fingers busily rubbing herself beneath his watchful eye. The slick sounds of her cunt against fingers, he knew she had to be dripping for him. He wanted to be inside that cunt so badly it hurt, but watching her pleasure herself while she took him into her perfect lips slowly was a blessing he had never anticipated getting the honor of experiencing. The feel of her soft, hot little mouth wrapped up around him, a sensation he had been gagging for. "Deeper, kitten. Y’can take some more while you rub that clit, yeah?” He encouraged hoarsely, his hand carding through her hair.

Y/N hummed around him, taking him deeper. His tip hit the back of her throat and she swallowed slightly around him, making him hiss sharply as she gagged a little. “Shit, baby. Are you alright?” His hand held her cheek, wiping the tear that had spilled accidentally from her gagging. “Didn’t mean t’do that. M’sorry, precious.”

 “I’m okay. Just didn’t anticipate it.” She reassured him, pulling back slightly to catch her breath. A devastatingly beautiful and filthy smile was painted on her slightly swollen lips before she pursed them, wetting him with her saliva and taking him back in. Mindful of his size, she relaxed her jaw and her throat as much as she could, letting him slide further back. Her fingers moved faster between her legs, swirling around her sensitive pearl.

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuck your fingers, Kitten. Get yourself open a bit for me. Need to be in that cunt soon.” He pleaded, eyes rolling back as his tip hit the back of her throat. The noise she let out was filthy, downright nasty, but she didn’t attempt to pull back. She stayed there with her throat spasming around his cock, breathing heavily through her nose. “Oh, for fucks sake… my girl.” He muttered in awe, mouth hanging open. “Should’ve known y’would be a filthy fuck. So quiet and sweet… Read all those dirty books, don’t you?”

"Mhm..." Y/N hummed around him intentionally, pulling back slowly before taking him deep again. Her fingers moved faster, sliding inside herself, stretching herself ready for him. He was big and she knew it was good to get herself ready, but part of her wanted to feel the stretch. She pulled back completely, leaving a trail of saliva along his shaft. “But you like that I’m dirty.”

"I fucking love it." He groaned, feeling his dick pulse as it hit the back of her throat one last time. At this rate he’d be spilling in her mouth sooner rather than later, but they both needed more than that. "Love that you're so quiet and sweet on the outside but a whole different person on the inside." He pulled her head back further, his cock slipping out of her mouth with a wet pop. "Now, get on the bed and spread those legs for me. Need to see that cunt before I fuck it." He demanded, his voice rough as the words tumbled out. "Want you to show me how wet you are for me, sweetheart." His voice was rough, heavy with lust as he gripped his dick in his hand and stroked it using her spit as he watched her get up back onto his bed, laying back in the duvet. "Spread those thighs nice n’wide. Want to see if you're ready for my cock." Harry wanted to taste her pussy, wanted to watch her fingers disappear inside that tight hole. 

He wanted to devour her.

Y/N listened, throwing one leg over the other slowly, spreading herself open for him just as he asked. Using two fingers, she circled her clit slowly, letting her head fall back slightly with a small moan. He watched every movement, feeling  himself pulse in his hand as she slid two fingers inside herself easily, working herself open with a muffled whimper. His mouth watered - she was wet, so fucking wet and all for him.  There was no way in hell that he was going to be inside of her and not keep her. None. 

His jaw tightened as she added another finger, stretching herself wider. The view was his favorite, watching her free hand knead her tits and arching her back as she fucked those fingers in- the lewd sound of her wet cunt making him swallow back his groan. Holy shit.

Her fingers slipped out with a wet sound and she brought them to her lips, sucking her arousal off with a needy whimper. "Please, Harry. Fuck me already." She begged, her hips lifting off the bed restlessly. "Been waiting for this for so long. Need your cock." Her head tilted back and she licked her lips, staring up at him with fuck-me eyes. "Stop teasing and just fuck me already." The desperation in her voice was clear, pussy throbbing and empty, craving him.

It wasn’t at all something anyone would expect from her, let alone Harry. She was so quiet at work, kept to herself, gave her shy little smiles- and here she was. Laying on his comforter, thighs spread as she exposed her cunt to him with the taste of herself on her own tongue, begging for his cock. It was a very quick lesson he was learning- when Y/N asked him for something, he was most likely going to give it to her.

"You're a little minx, Y’know that?" He growled, running his cock through the mess she’d made of herself before lining himself up with her entrance. "This isn't going t’be slow or sweet, sweetheart. We’ll have to save that for another time. You want me t’fuck you?" Pressing the head into her hole, he watched as her back arched off the bed ever so slightly with her hand reaching for his wrist. “S’alright, baby.” Harry softened his tone.” M’just teasing. I’m giving it to you. Just lay there and look pretty. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Pushing forward slowly, he let himself fill her inch by inch. Finally. Feeling the spasms of her cunt as he rocked his hips in, getting nice and snug as he got all the way inside of her, he couldn’t deny himself the moan that left his lips. The heaven that was her cunt wrapped around him had his body feeling hot, each roll of his body feeling her tighten up around him.

"Baby, fuck." He hissed as she wiggled slightly beneath him, her inner muscles clamping down around him experimentally. "Stop that. Don’t want t’cum too quickly." He warned hoarsely, watching her body as he filled her up. The stretch of her pussy around the girth of his cock, lips clinging to him as he pulled out and pushed back in was fucking lethal. There had been effort to slowly work her up to it, but he needed to fuck her harder. Wanted to hear the little gasps and moans coming from her beautiful mouth. "Goddamn. You're tight, baby, So fuckin’ good." He grit his teeth as she flexed again, his hips bucking forward suddenly, watching her tits bounce slightly with the force.

He kept snapping his hips forward, filling her up over and over again, the wet sounds of her taking him filling the room. Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist as she tried to pull him deeper, her nails clawing at his chest as she whimpered and whined beneath him, breathing heavily as Harry talked lowly to her. "You like it rough, sweetheart. Can feel it. Got you dripping on this cock…" He growled, his hands going to her thighs and pushing them up and back, opening her up wider as he drove into her again and again. "Like being manhandled, bitten… what else?"

"Yes... yes, just like that- I like all of it." She gasped, her voice breaking slightly as he nailed particularly deep. He was definitely the biggest of the dicks she had ever taken and while she had thought it would be a struggle to fit it, Harry hadn’t hesitated in making her take it in the way she needed. Making her feel this full was a rarity and she wanted to feel it tomorrow, feel it everyday. The memory of his cock deep inside of her and his hands gripping her tight needed to be refreshed often and plenty. 

"Harder. I can take it, I promise." She whimpered, her nails digging into his arms, leaving crescent marks. Her hips met his thrusts eagerly, showing she was taking exactly what she wanted. "Talk to me. Love your voice so much." The girl breathed out, her face flushed with the pleasure he was so willing to give her. "Tell me how good I feel."

"You're taking it so well, baby." He cooed, angling his hips differently and hitting a spot inside her so perfectly she let out a choked noise. "Your little cunt is squeezing me so goddamn tight, like it's trying to milk every drop of cum from me." If she wanted dirty, he’d give her dirty. His filthy words echoed in the room as he kept fucked into her, watching her tits bounce before meeting her eyes. 

"Bet you'd let me fuck this needy hole anytime I wanted, hm?” Hooking her thighs over his arms, he looked down to watch her cunt swallowing him up. It was unreal to see it in person, in real time. It wasn’t just a dream. Y/N was in his bed, taking him inside of her- and she was loving it. “Bend y’over your own desk, turn the lights off and shove those scraps do fabric y’call panties into your mouth to keep you quiet. No one would bother us, think you’ve got a headache but… You’d really be taking my cock.”

It was absolutely something she had thought about, especially the last week. Y/N had her own fantasies and he had plucked that one from her head and spoke it out loud. If she wasn’t getting railed it would probably freak her out, how he had somehow read her mind- but it felt too good to think about anything but him inside of her. "You’d really do that? Fuck me on my desk?" She panted, her fingers playing with her hard nipples as he watched. “You said I-I’m the filthy one but you’re just as…just as bad.”

"You’re not answering my question." He chuckled darkly, snapping his hips up sharply and stealing her breath. "If I lifted that skirt up and bent you over your desk… Sunk my cock in this pretty hole. Would you take it?" He growled deceptively soft, his voice getting deeper. "Spread your legs wide, like you’re doing for me right now, and let me pound you while you keep quiet… Make you drip with my cum all damn day? S’that something my pretty little kitten wants t’do for me?" He knew he was dirty, knew he was an asshole - but the mental image of doing exactly what he described had him leaking inside of her.

She threw her head back slightly with a small moan, "Yes, god yes..." She whimpered softly, her mind going crazy with the thought. "You could shove your hand over my mouth while you do it..." Her body tightened around him as the fantasy felt more real. He’d been so polite their whole newfound friendship. Maybe a dirty joke or two to make her roll her eyes. Y/N knew he could be dirty, had a feeling he could fuck, but having it in real life was so different than she had imagined. It was better. "You could pull my hair while you pound me from behind... You could..." She broke off with a gasp as he hit something deep inside her that had her seeing stars.

“I could what, baby?” He crooned, feeling the droplet of sweat slowly drip down the side of his face. This was by far better than any workout he’d had recently. His workout of choice, if he had one. The poor comforter was a goner and he knew it, but there was little care about anything other than getting her to cum around his cock. “S’getting hard to talk now, mm? Taking that cock so deep… Thinking about all those filthy things. M’gonna make sure you get fucked at your desk- Gonna make sure you get whatever fuck you want. But I want to feel you cum for me.” Lowering herself, he adjusted so her legs could wrap back around his hips as he got close to her face. “You‘re so good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever felt.” That was no lie. “Been dying to get my hands on you since the very first day, and now m’not going to take them off.”

"Harry..." She whined softly, her body feeling hot and sweaty. Her thighs were slick with her juices mixed with his spit - he had spread them open and spat right onto her hole before pushing back inside. Y/N was getting close, just like he wanted. He had her legs spread wide again, watching every snap of his hips and how her pussy swallowed him. His deep voice was making her brain mushy. "Kiss me- Please?" She whimpered, dragging her nails up his back to hold the hair at his nape.

"Anything you want, baby." His lips crashed down onto hers, swallowing her whimper as he continued pounding into her. The kiss wasn't sweet or gentle - it was hungry and demanding, reflecting exactly how he was fucking her. Having her where he’d wanted her was borderline overwhelming. Finally having her, being able to taste her, feel her everywhere… That was a dream. Y/N was the dream.

 His tongue pushed into her mouth as he hit that perfect spot inside her again and again, pulling back to coax her into it. "C’mon baby. Can feel you so close t’cumming... you're right there.” The croon was heavy against her lips, feeling how she was moving against him, how she clenched around him. It was everything he’d needed. “Gonna fill this dirty little cunt of yours..." His hand moved between them and found her clit, pressing down firmly as he swiped in circles. “S’that okay, baby? Can I fill this pussy up?” His voice broke slightly, kissing her over and over between the words.

She kissed him back frantically, her arms wrapping around his neck as she squirmed with him rubbing her clit. It was too much, his dick hitting that spot, his fingers on her clit, the deep rasp of his voice as he asked if he could fill her up. It was a wet dream, but she knew she wasn’t asleep with how full she felt. Their bodies were damp with sweat, her thighs and his shaft covered in her slick, the throb she felt between her legs- there was no way any dream could make her feel this good. 

"Yes, yes, yes- give it to me. Give it all to me- you’re making me cum." She cried out against his mouth, her body seizing up as her orgasm hit her hard. “Oh my god, m’cumming. I’m cumming, you’re making me cum-“ The frantic words were cut off with a high pitched whine. Her cunt clamped down on his cock as she came, the wet sounds of him fucking her through her orgasm filling the room. "Har- fuck." The garbled moan escaped her as she took it, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

"Good girl, baby…" He praised softly, his voice muffled against her mouth as he kept pounding into her convulsing cunt. "You took it so well… Knew you would, my beautiful fuckin’ girl. Been waiting so long to have you, needed you since I met you." He moaned back, his hot breath washing over her face as he kept his cock filling her, in and out, getting her full over and over. “Soaking that cock… Don’t think I can last.” The feel of how slippery and hot her cunt was, feeling her trying to suck him in deeper, it was too much. He couldn’t hold on much longer.

"Cum inside me, please..." She begged softly, a cooed whisper as she felt him still fucking into her. Sensitivity made her shiver but she didn’t want it to stop- it oddly enough felt good, the little twitches of pleasure. "Fill me up, Harry. I want it all... I want you to cum so bad." She wrapped her arms tighter around him, holding him close as she felt him start to shake. "Give it to me. Let go... I’ve got you."

"You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me." His voice was thick with need, the way she held him close being the final straw. It was unlike what he’d experienced before. Being held that way, coaxed, her soft lips pressing against his sticky skin as she got them as close as possible, it was a new level of intimate he’d never expected from a first time with someone- but it was Y/N. Everything about her was soft and silky, comfort. The sweetest girl with his bite marks on her throat and her legs wrapped tight around his hips, pulling him in deep.

 "Fuck... I'm cumming baby" He groaned thickly, burying himself to the hilt as hot streams of his load filled her. The pleasure nearly made him feel delirious. Heart beating out of his chest, hand curled up in the comforter as his body stayed as close to her as possible. "Oh fuck.” He slurred, grinding into her. “Feel that? Feel my cum flooding your pussy, sweet girl?" The pulses of his cock as he finished made her whine, eyes fluttering as she sought out his mouth to kiss. When his hips stilled, he made sure to keep himself deep, wanting every drop inside her. "S'alright if this is my new favorite place to cum... between those pretty thighs?"

He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing her in as she nodded with a tired giggle. She was wrapped around him completely, like a vine, running her fingers up and down his spine and her lips finding him when he pulled up from her neck. He let out a happy sound as she pressed kisses to his face before he caught her lips again, humming against them. His body was heavy on top of hers, his softening length still nestled deep inside her warmth. His kisses were gentle and slow, his hands carding through her hair as he held her face close to his, needing to feel her breath against his face. "Love how you smell… like that peppermint tea y’always drink… and me." He murmured softly against her lips.

She released a soft giggle against his lips, feeling the ticklish slide of his stubble against her cheek. "Now you smell like me too, big guy." Her fingers played with the short hairs at the nape of his neck as she gazed up at him, wrapped around him like a koala.  “But you said some stuff…” She raised an eyebrow as he pulled his face back to look at her. “You had a big crush on me?” Her tone was teasing, a little giddy from the knowledge. “You told me that before but it hits different when you’re balls deep.”

He groaned softly, shaking his head at her teasing as he rolled his hips lazily, feeling how her walls clenched around him. "Smartass." Though he grumbled, there was a fond smile tugging at his mouth. "Yeah well, you had me chasing you for months, sweetheart. Little did you know, every time you told me to go away or that I was being obnoxious, my brain was a constant loop of 'fuck, she's gorgeous.'" He tapped her nose playfully. "So yeah, I had a crush. Have one. But m’not gonna ask you to be my girlfriend properly in this way so… Just know you’re mine, and m’gonna ask you in a far more romantic way for the proper title."

Y/n giggled again, feeling completely giddy and light - post-sex afterglow mixed with knowing he'd pined after her for so long. "Is it weird that you being such a weirdo turns me on?" She admitted with a laugh, running her fingers through his damp hair again.  “You better ask properly...That’s what I deserve." The tone was playful, but there was a dreamy look in her eyes as she thought about what romantic Harry might be like. The woman had vast knowledge of annoying Harry, Office Harry, and Friend Harry… but boyfriend Harry? Well, that made her giddy to think about. "If you ask nicely..." The hum was soft as she lightly pinched his cheek. “I may just say yes.”

“That’s my goal, cause I’m already planning on it.” That had always been his goal, even if he had completely fucked it up and had to start from scratch. Building them up was worth it, though. Having her so close, hearing her giggles, feeling her body warmth? All of that was priceless. “Gonna stock up on all your headache stuff here, too. Make sure you’ve got a stash. Have to make sure you’re taken care of always…” His lips split into another grin. “Even if I’m the cause of your headache.”

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

"People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth. When you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can show yourself to them, when you stand in front of them bare and their response is 'you're safe with me'- that's intimacy."

- Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling she might be hallucinating.

One drink had turned into three, and it wasn’t even 9 p.m. yet. She’d slipped away from her friends at the bar near her office, brushing off their nagging with a vague excuse. Her first instinct had been to stumble into the little bookstore around the corner—a place she’d been meaning to check out since she started her job at the publishing house.

Half an hour later, she was wandering the aisles, muttering sarcastic comments under her breath about the uninspired titles her boss had decided to publish. That’s when she noticed someone standing nearby: a tall brunette who was watching her with an amused smile, eyes sparkling as if she’d overheard every word.

Something about this woman seemed familiar, but in her tipsy haze, y/n couldn’t quite place why. She was fairly certain they hadn’t hooked up before… probably. She figured she’d remember someone with a face like that.

The brunette noticed her staring and grinned. “That book’s terrible,” she said, gesturing to the one in y/n’s hand.

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it. The author’s an ass, too,” y/n replied without thinking, the alcohol giving her a boldness she usually lacked.

The woman laughed, a sound that was low and warm. “Sounds like you’ve got stories.”

“Not to be weird, but… do we know each other?” y/n asked, squinting as if that might help her remember.

The brunette chuckled. “I just have one of those faces. Don’t sweat it, baby.”

The pet name made y/n’s heart skip a beat. This woman was gorgeous, and her presence was disarming. Not to mention, y/n was tipsy in a bookstore—probably not the best state to be meeting someone like this.

The woman nodded toward the shelves. “Got any recommendations? You look like someone who knows good books.”

Y/n smirked, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, now you sound like my boss.” She glanced at the shelves. “What are you looking for? A certain genre?”

The brunette’s gaze lingered on her a moment longer than expected. “Something captivating. Sapphic.”

Her smirk didn’t go unnoticed, and y/n felt her cheeks warm. “Evelyn Hugo, then,” she managed, trying not to sound flustered.

The woman picked up the book, barely glancing at the cover. “Good enough for me,” she said with a grin.

“You’re not even going to read the back?” y/n asked, amused.

“Nope.” The brunette’s lips popped on the ‘p,’ and y/n’s eyes lingered there for a second too long.

The woman’s gaze didn’t waver. “Want to grab a bite and tell me about it?”

A short while later, they were seated in a booth at y/n’s favorite low-key bar.

“So you really don’t recognize me?” the woman asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

Y/n stammered, laughing nervously. “Should I?”

The woman chuckled. “Relax. We haven’t hooked up or anything like that.”

“Oh,” y/n replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“I’m an actress,” the woman explained with a smirk, watching y/n’s face as recognition started to dawn.

“Oh… oh my god,” y/n breathed, eyes wide. “You’re Aubrey Plaza.”

Aubrey smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Yep. You finally got there.”

“I am so sorry. I’m just… a little starstruck,” y/n admitted, cheeks burning.

“It’s cute,” Aubrey said with a shrug. “So… you’re a Marvel fan?”

Y/n laughed. “Guilty. Also a dumbass, apparently.”

Aubrey leaned back, amused. “Maybe, but it’s working for you.”

A blush stole over y/n’s face, and she changed the subject before Aubrey could tease her any further. “So, what are you drinking?” she asked.

Aubrey considered for a moment. “An Old Fashioned, I think.”

Y/n nodded and called over the waitress, who looked mildly amused as she took their order, including a pepperoni pizza to share. As the waitress walked away, Aubrey observed, “She seems to know you well.”

“Yeah, she’s used to my friends coming in here every other day,” y/n explained.

Conversation flowed easily, becoming more relaxed with each passing minute. Y/n found herself laughing at Aubrey’s dry humor, and as her initial anxiety faded, she realized she genuinely enjoyed Aubrey’s company. Hours flew by, and as midnight approached, they decided on a late-night walk in the nearby park.

Bundled up against the night chill, their cheeks flushed from the drinks, they walked side by side, laughing about random topics and sharing stories. Eventually, they called a cab, squeezing into the back seat, Aubrey’s arm casually resting around y/n’s shoulder.

At y/n’s door, she hesitated, nerves starting to creep back in. Aubrey seemed to notice and gave her a soft smile.

“I can feel you overthinking from here. Relax,” she teased, sinking into the couch as soon as they walked in.

Y/n laughed, joining her. Aubrey pulled out the book she’d bought. “Wanna read it together?”

Y/n grinned. “I’ll make us some tea.”

They settled into the couch, Aubrey reading aloud while y/n curled up beside her, head resting in Aubrey’s lap. There was a quiet, comfortable intimacy between them that didn’t need words. Aubrey’s fingers absentmindedly played with y/n’s hair as she read the love story of Evelyn Hugo, and gradually, both of them drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Part 2 • part 3 • 4 • 5

[nataliesfirefly]

chapter 1 - new year, same rivalry

a/n: hello! i’m back finally! super excited for this series, it’s definitely going to be more wholesome than my other one, and more of a slow burn! my plan is to have ten chapters, but that could change later on.. anyways enjoy and please tell me what you think! if you would like to be put on the series taglist, let me know! ♥️

chapter warnings: slight language

wc: 3.8k

series masterlist

“Welcome, year twelves. It’s lovely to see you all today, I recognize some familiar faces. My name is Mrs. Chasteen, I’ll be your teacher for English studies this year.” You set your bag down and take a seat, glancing up at the woman speaking. She’s very elegant, with her grey hair pulled into a strict bun and sophisticated tiny rectangle glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. You smooth out your black pleated skirt before crossing your legs.

“As I’m sure you all know, this year is very important. You should be considering which universities you wish to apply to, how you would like to further your education…” Your attention is side tracked when a tall figure hurries into the room, his dark eyes scanning for an open seat. You swear your heart drops to your stomach. Farleigh.

His eyes eventually fall onto you after spotting the empty seat next to you. He reluctantly walks over and sits down next to you with a big sigh, like he’s just put off by your existence. At least the feeling’s mutual.

“Your grades need to be in top shape this year, as they will determine your chances of getting into university. This year is arguably the most important for grades,” Mrs. Chasteen explains, pacing around slowly. You shift uncomfortably, scooting away from Farleigh. It’s like he’s trying to take up space on purpose as he splays his books and papers across the table. You shoot him an ungrateful look which he ignores.

“Now, enough about all that. I’m going to introduce the book that we will be studying closely this term.” You perk up at her words as she goes to her desk, picking a book up off the surface.

“This book is found on many, many reading lists for universities, namely Oxford.” You raise an eyebrow and sit up at the mention of your dream school. “A classic from the Victiorian era: Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë.” She holds up the book briefly and you let out a relieved sigh. “One of my personal favorites,” She adds quietly, setting the book back down.

Farleigh nudges you with his shoulder and you have to stop yourself from physically recoiling. “Would’ve thought you’d already read this by now,” He mutters with a slight smirk on his face, showing his teeth like a fox. Suddenly, a question enters your mind and now you have to ask, though you might come off as insecure. “Have you?” You whisper back, eyebrows furrowed. He shakes his head. “No.”

Okay, good. That would have been bad if he had already read it. It’s always nice at the start of the year. You’re both even, and no one’s ahead of each other in anything. Yet.

“We’ll be discussing and taking assessments over the chapters, so be certain to keep up with your reading. For your final project before winter break once we finish the book, you will be writing an essay based off of it and a prompt that I will give you. I will also be pairing you up with someone to collaboratively write said paper with.” Your eyes widen at this. A group project? Well, not a group. A duo. Nevertheless, it’s weird for two people to write an essay together. You’ve never heard of it.

“You need to learn how to critique each other and work together. It’s an important skill for uni.” Mrs. Chasteen seems to notice everyone’s looks of confusion. “Hmm,” Farleigh hums. You glance over to him shortly before observing the other students in your class. You recognize a lot of them. Just accquaintances, not friends.

“Anywho. Please come and grab a copy, then sign the sheet so I know you received one.” You quickly stand up and head over to her desk. You want to make a good first impression. But Farleigh and his stupid long legs make it there before you do, charming Mrs. Chasteen with a bright smile.

“Hello. I’m Farleigh. I’m absolutely thrilled to be taking your class,” He holds out his hand, speaking with his velvety voice while your teacher shakes his hand with a curt nod. “You’re quite tall,” She remarks with an impressed expression. You roll your eyes. Why does everyone feel the need to comment on his height? Does it make him better than everyone else? It’s just one more thing that makes Farleigh stand out more than you, and you hate that. You miss what he responds with due to your bitter thoughts.

“Please, take a book.” She steps back and gives him more space. He reaches down and takes a copy off of her desk, signing the paper shortly after with his free hand, writing in flawless cursive. You’re envious of how smoothly and quickly he can connect the letters. It looks like something out of a scroll from the eighteenth century.

“Oh, wonderful cursive,” Mrs. Chasteen clasps her hands together in approval and Farleigh just glances at you with a shit-eating grin before walking off and back to your shared table.

“Hi there,” You put on your best I’m very high achieving and hard working smile and mimic Farleigh’s actions, holding out your hand as you introduce yourself. She smiles back warmly while shaking your hand. “What a beautiful name. I’ve heard many great things about you from your previous teachers.” She almost lowers her voice. You feel your face heat up and you try not to show your pride.

“Oh, well then, I hope I live up to your expectations, miss.” You say with a beaming smile. She chuckles and hands you a book. “I’m certain you will,” She replies as you sign your name on the sheet of paper in slightly sloppier cursive, looking worse underneath Farleigh’s perfect signature.

You walk back to your spot with a spring in your step, holding your head high. Hearing just those few words from your new teacher’s mouth made your day. That’s how badly you crave academic validation. Or just… validation in general.

“You hear that?” You ask, returning his grin from earlier. “Hear what?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and turning to you with a confused expression. “Nevermind.” You don’t know why you thought he would’ve heard your conversation from all the way over here. “Mmm,” He hums in response, and there’s some attitude in his tone. You debate whether you should come up with a snarky question to ask him, but you decide against it.

Once all the books are handed out, Mrs. Chasteen walks up to the whiteboard and uncaps a marker. “So, can anyone tell me something interesting about Emily Brontë?” She asks.

Both of your hands shoot up at the same time. You mentally curse at Farleigh and shoot him an annoyed side glance. He returns the favor. Mrs. Chasteen notices this and raises her eyebrows. “Eager to answer, are we?” She chuckles and then looks around. “Anyone else?”

You glance around the room. No one else is raising their hands, they’re all just looking expectantly at you and Farleigh. You look back to your teacher with wide eyes, willing her to pick you.

“Alright then..” Mrs. Chasteen clears her throat. Her eyes land on you. She’s going to pick you. Yes. Now you can prove your intelligence and superiority to the rest of the class, and to Farleigh.

“Farleigh.” Your hand drops back down to your side in defeat and he turns to look at you. He just winks. He winks. The annoying fuck, you could probably strangle him right now-

“Well, Emily wasn’t the only poet and writer in her family. Her sister, Charlotte, wrote Jane Eyre, which was hugely successful. But Wuthering Heights was critiqued for being too clumsy or, rather, not well structured.” He explains, sounding like a fucking Britannica article. It was the exact thing you were going to say, and it pisses you off. You rest your elbows against the desk and put your chin in your hands, sighing dejectedly.

Mrs. Chasteen nods and writes this on the board, summing up the information into bullet points. “Correct. Very good.” She caps the marker again and turns back to the class. You raise your hand quickly, and she calls your name.

“I think Farleigh’s forgetting to mention Anne Brontë. She was probably the least popular out of the three sisters, but her works are seriously underrated. Her last novel, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, was one of the first feminist novels. She paved the way for other female authors and gave women a voice.” You explain, and Mrs. Chasteen looks surprised at your level of knowledge. You can feel Farleigh’s bristling energy next to you. You smile contentedly, watching as your teacher writes what you said about Anne off to the side.

“And have you read this book?” Farleigh suddenly asks. You turn to face him, unafraid of his challenging. “No, I have not. But I did a project over the Brontë sisters last year, and my research went quite in depth.” You explain, and he does one of those Olympic winning eyerolls. “Having extra information like that comes in handy, you know,” You grin as his eyebrows furrow, glaring sharply at you. “It’s not like it matters. We’re not even talking about Anne. She asked about Emily.” It seems like you two have forgotten completely about the rest of the students in the room, the teacher, and everything else in the world as you begin to argue. It just comes naturally.

“If I’m not mistaken, you mentioned Charlotte. She asked about Emily,” You mock him. He opens his mouth to say something back, then closes it and looks down.

“Alright.. anywho, now we’re going to read a short introduction to the book to give you all an idea of what you’re getting into.” Mrs. Chasteen explains, giving you and Farleigh a stern look.

Throughout the rest of the class, you and Farleigh remain silent and refuse to speak to each other, though you were instructed to discuss with the person next to you. You look out the stained glass window, watching the raindrops patter onto the cobblestone, the puddles illuminated by the golden light shining from the lanterns, the chatter around you drowned out by your own thoughts about the rest of today.

Your overthinking is interrupted by your teacher’s voice.

“Okay everyone, that’s it for today. I will see you all tomorrow. Could you two stay for a moment, please?” She turns to you and Farleigh as you’re gathering your things, gesturing for you two to come up to her desk. You both glance at each other before nodding and heading over after you’ve swung your bag over your shoulder.

“So… you two seem very.. competitive. You’re both very intelligent, make no mistake.” You wonder where she’s going with this. “Which makes me curious– May I ask which universities you two intend on applying to?”

“Oxford.” You both say at the same time, after which you immediately turn to each other with wide eyes. What? No. It can’t be. You’re seriously fucked if he applies to Oxford. They rarely ever take two people from the same school.

“You’re applying to Oxford?!” You both ask, once again, at the same time. He looks almost personally offended by you, with his upper lip pulled up and his eyebrows knitted together in a familiar scowl.

“Oh- Haha, well. What a coincidence,” Mrs. Chasteen chuckles nervously, glancing back and forth. “I went to Oxford. It was quite lovely there, and the professors–”

“No, you can’t. I’m applying to Oxford.” You point at yourself, and he scoffs. “Who says I can’t?” Farleigh asks, his voice dripping with sass. “Me.” You reply. He rolls his eyes and facepalms with exasperation.

“Well, the chances of you both getting in aren’t… impossible. If they see two exceptionally good students who are at the top of their class, they won’t mind if you’re from the same school. They only see the talent,” She goes on to explain, trying to stop an argument from breaking out again.

“Logically, they would pick the top student, though. Not students,” You emphasize the s at the end of students. Mrs. Chasteen continues. “You never know. And backup universities are a great option, if–”

“I appreciate the suggestion, but I’ll only be applying to Oxford. It’s Oxford or nothing,” You reply, your voice full of determination. “Me too. Oxford’s been my dream uni since I moved here from the states,” Farleigh adds. You turn to glare at him and he glares right back.

“Well then. That’s fine, just please try not to take up any more class time with your bickering.” She raises her eyebrows at you two. You nod. “Yes, miss.”

“And who knows,” She says, pushing her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose, “You two might work better together. Two smart brains are better than one,” You shudder at the word together. You and Farleigh working together? Absolutely not.

“Think about it.” She points a finger and you reluctantly nod, just to give her some temporary satisfaction. “You’re excused,” She dips her head and you hear Farleigh let out a little sigh of relief. “Thank you, miss. Have a good day,” He nods shortly to her before turning on his heel and heading for the door. You follow suit.

Shit. You forgot about the rain. Before English class, you had made it inside before the downpour had really started. Now the raindrops covered every inch of the ground. You have to cross the courtyard to get to your next class, which is in the west wing of the school. You awkwardly stand in the arched corridor, listening to the rain, slightly shivering as you try to make a decision. The weather is always bipolar in London. It’s September, and the other day it was sweltering. Now it’s freezing and rainy.

Farleigh turns around and raises an eyebrow at your hesitation. “What are you doing?” He asks. You glance down. He’s holding a black umbrella. How is he always prepared for everything?

“Well I don’t have an… umbrella,” You mumble, gesturing to the one in his hand. “Am I supposed to care?” He replies. Of course. Why did you think he would care?

“You asked me what I was doing,” You throw your hands up. “I was answering your question!” You exclaim angrily. He rolls his eyes. “What’s your next class?” He asks hesitantly.

You pull out the small yet important paper from your pocket with your classes on it, looking down and squinting. “Biology,” You reply, looking up and watching all the other students bustling around, chatting excitedly or holding umbrellas over their head as they walk through the courtyard. You look back to Farleigh, who seems to be thinking something over in his head.

“Alright, c’mon.” He nods to you, walking out into the open area, holding up the umbrella. You step forward without questioning it, just thankful for the rare act of kindness. “I’m headed to the west wing anyway,” He says as you walk side by side, as if he has to make it clear that this is not him being generous to you. It’s simply convenient.

You wish you didn’t have to stay so close to him, but if you want to be covered fully from the rain, you sort of have to get closer to him, your head brushing against his shoulder due to your almost embarrassing height difference and your feet almost tripping over his. You both remain silent, with only the sound of the rain pelting against the umbrella to keep you company.

You eventually reach the west corridor, and he’s quickly stepping away from you and wrapping up the umbrella. You begin walking to go find your class, before you hear his voice call after you.

“No ‘thank you’ or anything?” He asks. You turn around and groan internally. “...Thank you.” You respond, very reluctantly and quietly. “You’re welcome,” He smiles sarcastically and you roll your eyes before turning back around, quickening your pace to make it to your class on time.

A week later, your first calculus assessment of the year is already upon you. It doesn’t help that you share that class, of all classes, with Farleigh. Math has always been your most difficult subject. You’ve never been quick to understand it, it never comes naturally for you. But if you put in the time and work, you can make it seem like it’s effortless.

Apparently for Farleigh, it is effortless. He makes it clear that he never studies for tests or quizzes. While it infuriates you, you also find it hard to believe. How can he ace everything when he claims he doesn’t even try?

You sit down at your desk, fishing your pencil and calculator out from your bag. You nervously chew on the eraser, waiting for the papers to be passed out.

“First assessment of the year, good luck everyone. If you fail, there will be no corrections, so hopefully that makes you feel better,” Mr. Bailey says as he passes out the tests. His sarcasm somehow only makes the situation worse. You spent hours studying for this last evening, although he claimed this was all ‘mostly a review’ from your precalculus class last year. Right. Review. You should know this stuff by now.

As soon as the paper is on your desk, you begin working, starting with the problems you know how to solve. You get in that zone, completely unbothered by your surroundings or any distractions, just working, switching between writing down numbers and formulas to typing into the calculator.

You get stumped on a question and glance up to check the time. Your eyes wander from the clock over to Farleigh, who seems completely relaxed, one hand running through his hair and fiddling with his dark curls and the other working a problem out.

“Eyes on your own tests, please,” Mr. Bailey sternly calls out. Your eyes dart over to him, where he sits behind his desk, his gaze directly upon you. Fuck. Now he’s going to think you were cheating. But what were you actually doing? Staring at Farleigh? No. You were just… observing. You go back to your test, flipping the paper over to start the graphing section.

“That’s time. Pencils down, I’ll come by to pick up your papers.” Mr. Bailey announces, standing up and starting down the rows of desks and picking up everyone’s tests. He says something to Farleigh but you can’t make it out, but you see Farleigh grin. It seems that Mr. Bailey has already chosen his favorite student. You never even stood a chance.

Once he makes it to your row and picks up your test, you begin to pack up your things. “I’ll have these graded by tomorrow. Please don’t complain to me if you fail. That’s on you.” You scoff quietly at your teacher’s harsh remarks as you make your way to the door. Thank God that was your last class of the day. Now you can head back to your dorm.

Farleigh falls into step next to you. “So, how’d that go for you?” You stare straight ahead, focusing on the path ahead of you. “Good. Honestly, it was easier than I expected.” You reply. It’s half truth. It was slightly easier than you were preparing yourself for, but you usually prepare yourself for the worst. But you can’t let him know that you still struggled.

“Really. Hmm,” He hums, and you glare up at him. “What?” You study his expression. He must think you’re lying, based on his little smirk and raised eyebrows. “Nothing. It’s just… we both know math is not your strong suit,” He pauses and you stop next to him. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be good at it.” You scowl up at him and he just grins.

“Unlike you, I actually study.” You continue walking, hoping he’ll leave you alone, but he follows you. “Aw, you actually need to study? Sad.” He pouts and you actually feel the urge to strangle him.

You turn around abruptly and he stops in his tracks. “Alright. Lovely talking with you. Bye!” You wave with a fake smile. Farleigh looks a bit surprised by your reaction. There’s only so much of his insults you can take.

“Bye,” He quietly mutters as you turn back around, walking quicker and more determined, putting some confidence into your step.

You groan and flop onto your bed once you enter your dorm. Suddenly, you realize how sleepy you are as your eyelids feel heavy You cover your face with a pillow and sigh, wishing you could rest. It sounds wonderful. But you have work to do. Reading, studying, the list goes on.

You chose this boarding school because you heard it was most similar to the Oxford experience, campus wise. It was also named the most prestigious secondary school in London. You often become very homesick, though, and you long for the comfort of your parents and your real home. At least it’s preparing you for university.

You groan once again into the pillow before sitting up and pushing the idea of sleep away. It’s time to get to work.

The next day, you wait to get your calculus test back. Mr. Bailey is handing them out while you overthink and prepare yourself for a failing grade. What would you do if you actually failed? You think you would rather be pushed off of a tall building than receive an F on a test.

Suddenly, a paper lands on your desk. You quickly glance down and see ‘97.5’ written in red ink at the top of the paper. Your eyes widen and you feel relief wash over you. Thank the Lord. You grin and pick up your test, inspecting it closer and going over your errors.

You hear someone coming up behind you. You quickly flip your paper over, hiding the grade from whoever is lurking over your shoulder. But it’s too late.

“Not bad…” A deep, American voice chuckles quietly. You turn around in your chair, and to no surprise, Farleigh is standing there with his arms crossed. He’s already seen your grade.

“Stop looking at my grades,” You hiss. “Relax, I was just curious.” He smirks at your frustration and holds up his own test. You see a ‘98’ scrawled up at the top along with a ‘good job’ next to it. You huff in response, turning back around.

“That’s not even much better than mine,” You mutter. “What’s that?” He asks, leaning over your shoulder, his breath ghosting over your neck. You shiver and remain silent, unable to repeat yourself for some reason.

“Sorry, who got the better grade?” Farleigh questions, his voice lowered. You let out a small sigh, ready to admit your defeat. “You.” You reply quietly.

“Right.” And then he’s gone, probably heading back to his own desk. What a bitch. You roll your eyes and pinch the space between your eyes, shaking your head. Yeah, he got .5 more points than you, and it doesn’t seem like much. But for Farleigh, it’s a huge win. But you’ll get him back. You always do. And you’re going to be the one who makes it into Oxford, you are sure of it.

[pipsqueakparker]

the third act break up

helluva boss isn't a romance but it also kind of is, and if we're considering romance genre tropes/structure, we're mid-third act break up right now.... which is one of my least favorite tropes BUT in this case, it's being played well and the writers are using it to genuinely deepen/further blitz's character

just in comparison, i'm almost finished reading this book that lowkey highkey sucks - i'm not gonna name it, i don't like shitting directly on a book usually, but it's the 3rd in a series of romance books & in it we ofc have the third act break up done in a bad way. (pls don't take this as me shitting on the romance genre at all, i adore romance books, i even liked this author's first book)

1, the stakes: the stakes for blitz & stolas (relationship-wise) are like kinda mundane really but feel so fucking high because we see how genuinely they feel for each other and we've watched that change over the course of the show - especially here in season 2. when it comes to stakes, they don't have to literally be life or death, they just have to feel that way to the characters and then by extension to us.

"when i see him tonight" gave us the stakes, that song alone solidified how much this relationship means to both of them. "i'll fucking die alone if this goes bad" - yes, thank you stolas, i feel that.

in comparison, in this book, the stakes are shaky. the mc is a woman who's never felt good enough to be loved & doesn't want a traditional relationship that ends in marriage and children & the love interest is an actor with big dreams that gets an offer to do a show across the country. we're being told they're high, but it's not really being SHOWN. i don't feel it, i don't feel like these characters will really fucking die if one of them moves across the country for six months, y'know?

2, the miscommunication/lack of communication: another trope i hate is miscommunication/lack of communication - unless it makes sense.

in the book, love interest never tells mc about the job offer - but for why? it gets blamed on her anxiety disorder, which i also took issue with the portrayal of that, but it never digs deeper into why she really feels like telling mc about the job offer could negatively impact their relationship. (it's still new, it might make the mc feel pre-abandoned, etc. etc there are so many ways this COULD have been something to not mention, but instead.... she just didn't)

blitz & stolas? they literally just can't sit down and have a calm chat, and that makes fucking sense for them as characters. @rusty-lustful-fireflies made this post comparing their trauma responses that i thought was brilliant -def check it out, and in the meantime i'll summarize it like this: blitz lashes out and stolas folds in. their conversation in full moon is one of the best examples of a misunderstanding between two characters i've seen, they are both taking each other's words the wrong way, but it makes sense as to why they're doing that. when stolas asks for the grimoire back, blitz immediately jumps to abandonment, he's lost everyone in his life and he has this one really really good thing going with stolas that he doesn't want to change and bam. it's changing. he's angry. he's going to say it.

stolas... could have worded things better, i understand why that was blitz's first thought, but stolas was trying to make it this grand gesture and it just wasn't hitting your audience, sweetie. blitz wasn't made for grand romantic gestures, he's a ball of trauma. and he acts accordingly. and stolas, in response, realizes "i've buffed it", is probably triggered from getting yelled at considering HIS own trauma.... i could deep dive their conversations at the end of FM and the beginning of AT, but we've all analyzed those to death. we get it. the point is... it made sense. neither of them were technically in the right or the wrong, it was just genuinely not being able to effectively communicate because they were both heightened and thus... we get the third act break up that's not really a break up. which brings me to...

3, the aftermath/development: yes, the third act breakup is meant to be the thing that pushes our characters to actually fix something within themselves... and we're still mid break up, but with ghostfuckers, i think we can see that being done. one thing specifically stood out to me as evidence that this is something more significant to blitz than any usual fight or breakup.

this post from @timkontheunsure was the first one i saw discussing this part, and i've gotta say i agree wholeheartedly with it & i think this is the beginnings of genuine development for blitz. to summarize in my own words (but def go read their post too):

blitz isn't just fucked up on the idea of being/dying alone anymore, when he was fucked up on that he just went to find someone else to fuck and forget it. no, now blitz is fucked up on not having stolas specifically, and it's much deeper, to the point that he's beyond just fucking someone else to forget it. no one else could do it. he's gotta turn to the ghosts. it's the difference in coping that we're shown that makes this moment different, and this moment being different, in addition to blitz finally admitting verbally that he's fucked up over stolas in that last moment with millie, that leads me to believe we're going to get genuine character growth over the next two episodes.

and this was what made me start thinking and typing up this post, because i'm nearing the end of this book, we're mid third act breakup, and this mc is similar to blitz in her desires to have a relationship but not the way everyone expects her to have one, and in her favorite method of coping: fucking someone else until she's not sad anymore. this is how she meets the love interest, and she tries to use it again mid-book when she & love interest are fake dating and she's sad that they're not real dating - and, then, we get the break up, love interest is gone.... and she turns right back to "i gotta find someone else to fuck to get over it".... and normally i probably wouldn't have thought twice, but this time i did. because we got that fucking beautiful example of the difference between coping with being lonely & coping with being without the person you love in ghostfuckers yesterday and it was SO MUCH BETTER THAN THIS FUCKING BOOK.

anyway, this is my dissertation on how this animated demon show that's not technically a romance just took a romance trope & is really doing it so much better than the literal romance book i'm reading right now.

hope you liked it. thank you for your time!

[emeritus-fuckers]

papa's with S/O who has DID?(dissociative identity disorder)

Please note that this is written by a person who does not have DID. I might be wrong about things. Feel free to correct me in the comments if I got something terribly wrong, I only have basic knowledge on the subject. - Nosferatu

Papas and Sister Imperator with a darling who has DID

Primo (he/him)

Very much not bothered.

He asks you which flowers each alter likes and makes them all a nice bouquets as he introduces himself to each of them.

He's very kind to them. And very cruel to anyone who makes you feel threatened. Let's not forget this man used to piss on his ghouls. (I am never letting that go)

He gifts you and your alters books on subjects they enjoy.

He doesn't push to become their friend, he lets it happen gradually.

He makes you feel very safe about everything. He's especially good to the Little Ones in your system. They call him grandpa. He teases you about it.

Secondo (he/him)

He's had a chance to read about it some time ago, so he has an idea of what he's dealing with here.

He asks you a few questions to understand better and that's roughly it.

He'll try to get to know all of your alters at least to the point of being civil and relatively friendly with them.

Obviously, he loves you the most, but he also arranges to hang out with your other alters, doing things they enjoy.

Very chill about the whole thing. He will, however, change up his entire schedule depending on which alter is fronting. It can be a bit intense, but it doesn't matter, he wants you and your alters happy.

Terzo (he/they)

He makes you a set of pins for each alter, including their name, age (if it's known) and pronouns.

They also play a game of Guess Who? whenever they notice you switching.

Basically, Terzo asks you questions to figure out who's fronting at the moment. It's weirdly adorable.

He's equally excited to see each of your alters, although obviously you are, and forever will be, his favorite.

Tries to get into the hobbies of each alter so they can have fun with them all.

He's very sweet about it all!

Copia (he/him)

A bit awkward at first. He's not sure what to do or how to approach you sometimes, he doesn't want to greet you in a way that another fronting alter might consider offensive.

He's walking on eggshells around you for a while, until he gets to know your alters a bit better. Well enough not to freak out when he meets a new one.

He's still cautious, of course. He tries to win their sympathy with gifts.

He's very respectful, but for the love of Satan, he's stupid and he freaks out way too easily. You need to reassure him a lot, though, even if it's over something trivial he did that he thinks might offend one of your alters. He cares about you so much and he ends up stressing the fuck out.

Papa Nihil (he/him; applies to both young and old)

Don't take this in the wrong way, but he is very confused and weirded out when you first bring it up.

It's just the initial "I don't understand it, I don't like it" reaction that he has to many things, give him a few minutes to organize things in his head.

Once he sorta does, he will ask a lot of questions. Some of them stupid, some slightly insensitive, but that's purely because he wants to understands as best as possible, since he's rather clueless about DID. Just explain to him how some of the things he said aren't really all that good and he'll never mention those again.

It takes some explaining and patience, but he does his best to be as understanding and nice to your alters as possible.

He'll eventually become good friends with them all, but he'll always like you the most.

Sister Imperator (she/her; applies to both young and old)

The amount of reasearch that this woman does is scary.

She needs to know everything. She will know everything.

By the end of her research, she will know better than many specialists, honestly.

She won't ask about the root of your trauma and will remain extremely respectful, conversing politely with each of your alters, trying to have a positive relationship with them all.

~

Written by Nosferatu.

[mrs-monaghan]

There's a jikook blogger here and I don't want to mention her name but she is saying that jikook might agreed to be in an open relationship...hooking up different people when they both are apart from each other for long bcz of work and that is why that woman was in his house in that leaked video..and that also may be why nothing between jikook seems changed bcz obviously jimin knew about it that his boyfriend was hooking up with someone bcz he was busy with his work.

Okay.

So i don't have any problem with people who are in an open relationship if that's what it suits them but personally...i can't ever handle being like this with the person i love so much..and let them have sex with anyone they want if I'm busy somewhere for work. Obviously I don't know jikook personally at all but The things they have both said about love for years...it's hard for me to swallow to even read something like this about them..even if it's just an assumption.

Yes it can be possible that they both were never in a relationship to begin with and hooking up with different people but to think that they were and are in a relationship for years but having sex with anyone they want just bcz they're busy somewhere but still love only one another...i just can't imagine both of them like that.

It's my personal opinion and I want to know yours too Shaz!! Pls reply

...Thank you.

It is of my personal opinion that an open rlship is simply not in the books for Jikook. Not even something they would ever or have ever considered. In the past I've mentioned how I could see Jimin giving JK the option to go explore and see if Jimin is who/what he really wants (since Jimin was his first everything) but I believe thats as close as it came to involving other people on their rlship.

Other than that, I simply disagree with everyone who claims they're in an open rlship or have ever been with other people.

It simply doesn't line up with who they are as people and their possessive/jealous behaviour over the years.

[ijustsitinacorner]

Another random imagine:

(More like possible oc ramble)

(Book 7 spoilers)

Remember when I mentioned making an OC that was Lilia’s wife or something along the lines of that.

WELLLLL I THOUGHT OF SOMETHING

Adding an oc to the Meleanor, Lilia and Leven trio because why not?

I can’t think of a name for her, or if I should actually make her one of my official OC’s.

But some imagines I can think of is her giving Meleanor a kiss on the cheek when they were children, then eventually an actual kiss when they were older cause Meleanor rebelled against The Senate.

After, I can imagine is her becoming flustered along with Lilia too cause this woman just exposed personal shit and are like “That was 150-200 years ago!”

While her past relationship with Lilia, I’m assuming she’ll also be part of the army or something if it’s possible. If it is, expect some slight tension between the two.

Frenemies I guess? I don’t know I can just see it.

Leven is almost rarely mentioned, but you bet she loved him too. Like, he was a gentle man? That’s enough information to imagine she had a sort of admiration for him.

It’s also mentioned that Leven and Lilia as left and right generals spent more time together than a married couple.

This is why I mean I don’t know to add her as apart of the Briar Valley army, cause if not she’s more likely to be around Meleanor for enough time to be considered them even a married couple.

Anyway enough of Meleanor and Leven, getting into General Lilia and present Lilia.

The ARGUMENTS these two must had or trying to hatch Malleus. While to add extra angst I would add they went separate ways, but it wouldn’t make sense so I would not add that.

As for traveling, I guess those actual enjoyable moments were always covered up because their entire reason as to why was to find a way to hatch Malleus.

The birth of Malleus probably brought the two closer. I mean, they were learning how to love in general, so why not learn how to love and value each other?

I can imagine some sort of doubt though, I don’t know how to explain it much.

In present terms, she just stares down (*cough cough* literally…get it? Cause she’s taller than Lilia-) and questions how the hell they are the same person?

I guess Lilia would also say the same, like the frenemies relationship they had in the past compared to the married couple of Diasomnia? WELL ISN’T THAT A CHANGE.

I don’t know what more else to add more think of, nor have I thought of a name for her so I guess this’ll be fun…save to say it’s a LONGGGG history.

This is just an idea I thought of, a pretty unoriginal one too. But eh, what’s important is to have fun with it.

[amphiptere]

ari and dante movie things (spoilers):

CRUEL CRUEL WORLD for omitting both "I will love you forever, Aristotle Mendoza" and "I love swimming. I love swimming...and you."

I get that a lot of the more homoerotic aspects of Ari and Dante's early friendship were left out in order to preserve the surprise of the ending and keep it a question of if they'd get together but some of those moments were really great ok. And I don't think they needed to tone down Dante's crush on Ari later on, after Chicago, when he's pretty open about it.

Absolute worst change was the moments after they first kiss. Ari would never say those things. He hates his own sexuality, but he never hates Dante's. He may sometimes be awful to Dante because of how Dante makes him feel but he wouldn't lash out in blatantly homophobic ways because of it, he'd just retreat and be mad at himself (and a little at Dante). I really can't get behind this at all.

I liked the inclusion of Ophelia more, that made the end less unexpected. Unsure why she was at the New Year's party with all the family though unless they were neighbours and stuff and not family? (Except Ari's sisters, obviously.)

Including the Bernardo reveal so early was fine except for it makes sense way more after Ari fights Julian. His parents show him the Bernardo stuff because they're afraid of what they see in Ari and how their collective silence makes everyone suffer. Ari is then horrified by everything and realizes how his violence has affected his family. Vs in the movie it's sort of just swept aside as we move onto the Dante of it all.

Also I guess it helped the exposition right at the start to have a photo of Ari with Bernardo but it was such a big point of the book that no one in the family had photos of him anywhere and that hurt Ari and so it's so nice when he takes one to put up and his parents want to put it up where everyone can see it. That was just such a really nice moment and only adding two lines could have made it happen in the movie too so I don't see why not.

Ari's dad doesn't talk really and I guess that was cut for time. I get that had to happen some places, fine. It just makes their "we're talking. Everything's better." far less of a victory since it seems like a one-off thing before they retreat into a slightly easier silence, rather than them fundamentally understanding each other better and understanding how to reach out and communicate, which is how they end things in the book. There you know they'll be OK and talk lots more.

The first scene with the bird, where the boys are shooting it with BB guns was cut also for time and mostly that was fine except for how it removed the part where Dante finds out Ari likes to fight. Which is an important revelation for Dante to have.

Why was Ileana's name changed? That was so unnecessary and Ileana is a beautiful name.

Basically everything with the parents was cut down to the point that they were all pretty 2D characters and I missed them and their friendships with each other and Ari and I guess there just wasn't time but oh what could have been.

DANTE'S GAY-ASS OUTFITS WERE EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING, OK.

Gina and Suzie suffered the same "cut down for time" treatment as everyone else but I missed them also.

I'm not sure how they could have shown it since the whole part is so internal but with the bit where Ari thinks he hates Dante, that was pretty important and they just sort of skipped it. It's a really interesting way to show how internalized homophobia can manifest.

I appreciate that the trans woman mentioned was clearly explained to be a trans woman in a way that made sense for the characters (teenagers fairly uneducated on the topic, in the 80s) but didn't use language now considered offensive and didn't misgender her.

Visually, things were lovely.

Swimming criticism: the second day Ari and Dante go swimming, so after two days of lessons, the previous day on which he learned a back float, Ari races underwater by doing whip kick. No way he'd be able to do whip kick that fast. No one even teaches it that early on, not even random kids who have no official teaching backgrounds.

I always feel in the book like Ari and Dante read a bit young for their age the first summer. That didn't really feel like it was the case here, so that was nice.

It was kind of funny when Dante and co. come back from Chicago and are all "oh my god Ari you look so different" and he looks exactly the same.

There's not so much with Legs and how boys need dogs and dogs are one of the secrets of the universe etc.. I like that stuff.

I did notice all the other bits cut for time and I did miss them all.

[olderthannetfic]

Re: https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/722192574032527360/translators-who-localize-a-story-to-the-point-of

This makes me think of the book Yellowface that came out recently, which I’ve been finding a thrilling read. It’s about a white woman author who, when her extremely successful asian author friend dies, steals her unpublished manuscript and publishes it as her own.

Personally I find it very helpful when learning about some new craft to see a generally agreed upon set of “good” examples of it, and then “bad” examples. As an example, when I was learning to knit I was helped by seeing examples of mistakes next to the stitches done correctly. I was able to improve much faster with stark examples.

Yellowface is a fiction book and so the story is the main point of it, but it’s also a very good example of the “bad” when it comes to cultural erasure through translation or americanization. The white woman character does a tremendous amount of editing of the manuscript to make it more easily digestible to what she thinks of as “regular” (meaning non-asian) audiences, and if you know anything about chinese culture, naming practices, or linguistic norms, each change she makes feels like an immense violation. Because she’s a villain character, they’re mentioned in the most obvious and horrifying way, often with a “does this really matter?” attitude. Genuinely an extremely helpful list of what not to do when trying to translate chinese characters, and if someone didn’t know anything at all about the topic, I would consider it a very googleable list to learn more about what matters in translation for chinese culture specifically. Things such as “Why do some character names have A- in front of them? What does that mean?” as one example of what I mean.

I also think the discussion around the Seven Seas translations of the author MXTX’s work is another good place to look for more information about translation of chinese works. There’s been a lot of fandom debate about specific translation points, so that whole fandom history could be a great treasure trove to learn more as well.

What you said as a general rule, to avoid non-idiomatic direct translations only left in to make a work feel “foreign” to non-native speakers—that comes up a lot with the character Lan Wangji specifically, and how best to translate his speaking style. So discussion around him specifically would be a great place to start within that.

Happy learning more about new cultures in translation to everyone! If anyone has examples of discussion or debate with translation of another culture’s works, I would love to see an ask like that for those cultures too. Or if anyone has more examples of chinese works in translation that could be useful, please add them.

--

Oh god. These days, I mostly read manga to practice my Japanese, but back when I was in anime fandom and consuming a lot of translations, there was constant wank about translation choices...

...and most of it demanded Charlie Chan-level garbage translations that made the audience feel smart and like they were accessing something "authentic". Gag me.

[memoriescut]

i wanted to give this a proper title but really it's just an addendum to my pudding & sanji as frenemies propaganda lmao

i'm gonna skip the wci arc as i already talked about it, just as a general note in my canon pudding erases a whole lot memories of her from sanji's mind. while she's affectionate toward him, she has no romantic feelings. her crying in the hallway happens because by that point she's quite literally the only traitor left on the island - she can't escape because bm needs her for her powers but also knows the woman won't be so kind about the disrespect

technically they're still married. it doesn't matter as it's not like they'll get together at any point but since divorce as an institution doesn't exist, there is this loose end. pudding will never mention it as she believes it's not relevant to her life choices. doesn't want to be referred as vinsmoke or black leg for that matter, mention those names to her and she will stare blankly pretending not to know who that is. she will however take a page from sanji's book and give herself a brand new last name at some point after finding the one piece

i know fandom loves to pit women against each other but i think pudding would lowkey push nami into pursuing sanji eventually. in her mind they seem good for each other in a way that doesn't feel like trauma bonding, you know. as a matter of fact i think pudding and nami would be good friends and she'd be someone pud trusts during her time with the SH

pudding has the habit to be in places she shouldn't be, except that nothing of what she does is random and it's her fatal flaw. she crosses paths with the SH plenty of times after finding the one piece, mostly because they always get in trouble and she's traveling around following the voices. does she keep tabs on them? possibly. she considers them allies, so in most cases she will lend an helpful hand and then dip before they can get all mushy on her

on that note... i headcanon that while no romantic feelings are involved due to pudding making sure all those memories are cut and hidden away, throughout the years she and sanji meet up to have ONE (1) dinner to catch up and then everyone is on their own way. it probably happens once a year, they cook things, share and swap recipes, stuff like this. pudding will never talk too much about her business - she might be reformed but a part of her will always dabble in the darkness as it's part of the balance of all things. she will however give him leads about treasures she's heard of. [ when i think of them i imagine the song bells in santa fe, ngl ]

speaking of memories, pudding still has the film from sanji's memories. whether she gives it back or not eventually is up to plotting, but generally speaking i think she'd rather not for the fact that then they'd have to talk about... everything, which is not really something she wants to do. while she hasn't used memo memo on him since then, she can hear him loud and clear through her third eye powers and absolutely hates it. she probably told him too!

if wci / final arc pudding is more akin to alice in terms of character development, post op pudding is lowkey the cheshire cat. the more years pass the more different she looks. it's a good type of change even though it basically makes her look like an hermit most of the time. on a good day she might be sentimental enough to share some wisdom with him on whatever occasion they cross paths. she loves to speak to him in riddles just to mess around and that's really the only sign of her teen self left

post op pudding has a vivre card, and it looks like a queen of hearts card from any deck. she's given sanji a piece of it mostly because "you can never know" but also told him to not pester her, so you see where she stands. she is however always available through den den mushi for serious talks or mildly tough advices

at some point pudding has written a children's book called tales from the all blue which are basically a collection of stories she's heard from sea creatures. at the very first page there's a dedication that says may our dreams carry us throughout the darkest times. this is probably the most openly affectionate she's been toward him

[michiruze]

Before the Coffee Gets Cold - Thoughts

It seems that I've been doing something shocking.....reading a book! Well, it's been a while since I read a book, and I had a sudden urge to spend my Eid holidays reading a book....a simple book, of course. I liked it, but hoo boy, I have thoughts.

So, I've been spending my week reading Before the Coffee Gets Cold (2015) solely for the premise. It's not quite sci-fi, but grounded enough to put me in a breeze.

At a glance, the premise of "a cafe that can get their patrons back in time but it can't change the present" intrigued me. Not to mention that I have the perfect album to listen to while reading, to immerse myself in the wistful, warm feeling of the premise.

The fact that the cafe cannot change the present gives the premise an opportunity to provide meaningful insights on how the looking into the past might not change the present, but it will give us will to live in the present and build our futures. Previously, I really loved Petite Maman (2021) for exploring a similar premise with similar insights and I was so stoked to hear that there are more stuff like this. Also, stories like this IS my bread and butter after all.

Now that I finished it....whew, it was a mixed experience. Full thoughts under the cut.

Absence makes the heart lose wager. 'Till love breaks down, love breaks down...

I grabbed the first book a few days ago and finished it. To tell the truth, I liked it, but the first and fourth story left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. I hated how Fumiko was written and described in the first story.

It's just that....I'm not feeling it at all. I don't like how Fumiko is written as this smart genius omniglot woman who flails herself completely for a guy who isn't worth much? And making her entire angst revolving around wanting to marry someone because her siblings had gotten married? That's a rather weird way to write a female character to me. And I have to admit that her physical description gets....weird. This I feel, is an artifact left from the book's original form as a stage play.

For a book that sells itself as full of heartwarming sad tales, the first story didn't do a lot for me. Maybe it's that the character's problems are quite trivial compared to the other three stories....kind of fitting as an introduction to the book's small world of Cafe Funiculi Funicula, I guess?

While I teared up at the end of the fourth story, I am admittedly growing tired of the glorification of "give birth anyway even if it kills the mother!" stories, especially those that are written by men. Which is a shame considering that I liked the focus character even though her characterization slides close to a manic pixie dream girl a few times. I do admire how the fourth story did explore the time travel concept further...I just wish that it was used in a better story.

While I loved the second and third story, the way Hirai is written in the end where she basically gets a complete 180 to her parents felt way too unrealistic and a little insulting. I just...don't feel great seeing Hirai just leaves her independent life to serve her parents even if it's her shared dream with her sister and she's doing it to honor her. It CAN be done...but not this sudden. It should've had more time rebuilding Hirai's relationships with her parents.

I didn't find anything objectionable with second story besides the maiden name thing (i find it rather off) --- and I did cry at the end of the story. It's the best part of the first book for me, and it's why I decided to continue on with the book series, since the book series apparently gets better and better by each sequel.

Another thing that held back the first book's potentials besides the writing of the first and the fourth story is the writing style. This book was adapted from a stage play, and you can tell that writer Toshikazu Kawaguchi struggled with translating the story from stage form to literary form. The writing felt like someone who is writing a book in a language they're not fluent at (in this case, a playwright writing literature), and as a result, some parts can feel too 'stage-y' instead of occurring naturally.

Rain on me, like no other. Until I drown, until I drown...

The book's tone is....stage-y. And sometimes feel corny in a similar way that The Fault in Our Stars is. However, this book manages to cultivate an atmosphere that feels like being in a cafe, so it's not that corny after all....wait, I have a better description.

If i can describe this book's tone as music, I would describe it as an emotional, easy-listening 80s ballad with a melancholic tone, complete with synthesizers (by someone like Thomas Dolby.....like in the song I linked above). The kind of 80s ballad you'd hear in a peaceful cafe at night, but in book form.

(I say 80s ballad since it's NOT for everyone. In fact, 80s ballad feels like one of those things that people tend to dislike about the 80s....feels fitting for this book, honestly, since people are mixed or feeling conflicted about it despite their enjoyment or dislike!)

Neverthless, it's still a unique light read for a rainy day, or a wistful night at the cafe. It did say what it wanted to say pretty well. 

We all wax poetic about fixing our present and future but what if we get to do it? What are we going to say? What are we going to feel? How are we going to look at our past, even? And if the present can't be changed, what's it all for, then? This book gives nice insights about this dilemma without having to worry about pesky concepts such as 'grandfather paradox' or 'time crash'.

Ultimately this is why I still liked this book despite the glaring faults. The premise is really good, and with the right writing, it could be something amazing (Celine Sciamma has proven that it could, after all!) and heartfelt. The story's approach to time travel is still something pretty rare, and the almost-anthological nature of the series makes me sure that there are better stories in the sequels.

Reading that the sequels gets better and better makes me excited to dive more into Cafe Funiculi Funicula and eventually, Cafe Donna Donna.

Take a sip, and go back to the past. Say what you want....say your feelings.....before the coffee gets cold.

When love breaks down, the things we do, to stop the truth from hurting you. When love breaks down, the lies we tell, they only serve to fool ourselves.

....Overall, I had a good time in the unique coffeehouse that is Cafe Funiculi Funicula. This was a pretty difficult review since I rarely write book reviews so oh well.

I'm off to read the second book, while imagining what I'd do if I could go back before the coffee gets cold....

[hoarding-books]

Women In Science

50 Fearless Pioneers Who Changed The World

Written/Illustrated by Rachel Ignotofsky

Honestly, this was one of my sister's finds which just happened to look intriguing, and like a fairly light read.

I'm pretty sure the women in the book are ordered by when they were born, simply based on the contents page, considering how random the order seems otherwise

For each 2-page spread, barring a couple of extra timelines/honourable* mentions and one on lab equipment, the left is composed of an illustration of the person, with a quote by or about her, a few facts, and doodles relating to her work. The right has names, job titles, more factoids and doodles, and a handful of paragraphs about the person's life

Naturally, this makes for easily consumed information- it's just that I can never really remember names and dates myself. But Ignotofsky also points out just what these pioneers of science had to deal with- slander, being banned from science labs, having to work from broom closets and attics, or having their work stolen

In addition, while none of the illustrations are in a realistic art style or colour scheme, Ignotofsky still managed to make them clearly different, and show that there was racial diversity, with outfits relating, presumably, to either jobs or the woman's time period

Overall, 'Women In Science' serves to share the stories of women who had to fight for even the chance to learn, how things have improved, and how things can still be better

*Not 'honorable', as I am not American

** There is a chance of some of the women having died in the 6 years since my copy was (apparently) published

[roseandshadows]

I’ve frequently seen the argument that we don’t know how Elain feels about Lucien, but I think this passage gives us a pretty good indication of what she thinks. And he knows it too.

For a long moment, Elain’s face did not shift, but those eyes seemed to focus a bit more. “Lucien,” she said at last, and he clenched his teacup to keep from shuddering at the sound of his name on her mouth. “From my sister’s stories. Her friend.”

“Yes.”

But Elain blinked slowly. “You were in Hybern.”

“Yes.” It was all he could say.

“You betrayed us.”

He wished she’d shoved him out the window behind her. “It – it was a mistake.”

Her eyes went frank and cold. “I was to be married in a few days.”

He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart. The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.”

She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride.

A mortal man’s wife. Or she would have been.

(ACOWAR, Chapter 24)

He is partially responsible for arguably the worst day in her life. A day where she was kidnapped by the very beings that terrify her, shoved into the Cauldron first with no guarantee or knowledge of what would happen, her body changed forever in what we learn from Nesta is an excruciating process, dumped practically naked in front of the enemy, claimed by one of the Fae that led to these events, and then suffers from maddening visions that likely make her wonder if she’s going crazy. She has no idea if she’ll ever see her fiancé again, who she loved, or if he’ll even want her. Not to mention her older sister was also kidnapped and turned and her younger sister was ripped away from her mate to go with the Spring Court male who instigated all of this. That’s a lot dropped on this mating bond that she doesn’t even want. Honestly, it doesn’t sound like he wants it either.

[Jessminda] had chosen him. Elain had been…thrown at him.

When Lucien thinks Elain is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen : Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jessminda once.

But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate. (ACOWAR, Chapter 24)

Again, he doesn’t sound terribly thrilled with this bond either. I believe Elain and Lucien both have very compelling stories that will be told in upcoming books. I think they’ll need to work together considering tensions with the Autumn Court, her visions, and his connections with Vassa (and thus connection to Koschei), but there seems to be too many obstacles and negative feelings to develop into a romantic relationship. If there was any spark of curiosity from them I might consider otherwise, but two books later and both still seem to be uncomfortable with the bond and each other. I just really struggle to see how these two can move past some of these moments, especially when they both seemed to be focused on others. They both seem to want a love that they choose, not one that is assigned to them.

[yesimwriting]

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

--

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

--

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

--

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[iwadori]

Why you break up with the haikyu boys part 2 (Osamu, Iwaizumi, Daichi, Ushijima.)

Part 1 (Atsumu, Oikawa, Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi, Sugawara)

Genre: angst

masterlist

Osamu: “For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know that you...”

You and Osamu were basically arranged to be together, you were best friends from when you were little and your parents thought you were a match made in heaven.

Did you love Osamu? Of course, you pretty much worshipped the ground he walked on.

But there was always a strange look he gave you whenever he mentioned his brother. You never really focused on it, but that was something you took note of.

When you came back home, after a long day of work. You see Osamu sitting in the kitchen alone, with some paper in front of him and a drink in his hand.

“‘Samu Babe!” You exclaim sauntering over to him “How are yo-“

“Don’t.” He said simply, taking a sipping some of his drink (to which you could only assume was some form of hard liquor.)

“Why ‘Samu, what’s wro-“

“You bought tickets to his game.”

“Who’s game?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Y/N, you bought tickets to my idiot of a brothers game in an attempt to slut around under my nose..”

“Samu, that’s not what it was I-“

“I don’t want to hear it Y/N!” He yelled slamming his drink down making you flinch.

“Gosh Samu whats wrong with you. I know that I had a teeny crush on Atsumu when we were kids but it was just a childhood crush. An innocent childhood crush.”

“For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know yo-“

“You know what? That I’ve spent majority of my life, trying to ease your own insecurities and jealousy of your own goddamn brother. How childish can you be Osamu ?”

Osamu eyes opened a bit in realisation, and his lips slightly parted. “But Y/N, you-“

“I what? Brought us tickets to your TWIN brothers final volleyball game, because I wanted him to see the support from his family and friends.”

“I’m sorry Y/N I really a-“

“Don’t.” you say picking up the tickets and turning around “I just thought maybe, just maybe for at least a day you could put your weird feelings towards your brother aside... but I guess you can’t.”

You left the apartment, and got your stuff another day (one where you knew Osamu was at work.)

No you did not end up dating Atsumu, you were most certainly friends and only friends. You did end up going to the game on your own, to cheer on Atsumu who most definitely appreciated it.

You thought you saw a certain Miya twins sitting in the stands at of the game, hiding his face with a baseball cap. Which made you smile a bit...

Well at least he ended up coming to the game.

Iwaizumi: “I just don’t want you Y/N, I never did”

In your second year of Seijoh Highschool, you were approached by a rough looking boy who had a ‘resting bitch face,’ and looked like they were coming to pick a fight with you.

But no, it was just “Iwaizumi Hajime.”

He was very popular throughout your school, as he was vice captain of the schools volleyball team and he was Oikawa Toorus best friend.

So when he approached you that Friday afternoon at your locker, you definitely didn’t know why.

“Y/N..” he said nervously scratching the back of his neck “umm this is for you..”

In his hands was a bar of chocolate and a scrunched up note that read

AN: DID I WRITE THAT NOTE MYSELF, yes yes I did anyways...

You were very surprised at this sudden confession as you and Iwaizumi weren’t in the same social circles and you were definitely not the type of girl that would be on his ‘radar.’

You had a quite unsettling feeling, which made you subconsciously squint your eyes at him. But they soon soften as you saw the nervousness that Iwaizumi was showcasing to you as you were contemplating on you answer.

You got out a pen, shaking the unsettling feeling you had out of your head. And ticked the box “Yes” giving it back to Iwaizumi.

He smiled widely and rushed towards you in an attempts in giving you a hug which went awkwardly wrong leaving you both laughing.

Dating Hajime, wasn’t bad nor good... it’s just what you wouldn’t expect it to be.

There wasn’t much of a change to what your usual school routine was which consisted of: going to lessons and spending break and lunch on your own reading a book.

And technically you were still doing that, but you were now just always with Hajime. Wether it was at lunch or at practice (which he always insisted you go to, also hinting that he would like for you to bring him bentos to practice.) which you did end up doing.

One day, whilst doing your daily “bento delivery,” to your boyfriend, you overhear him talking to his friends; Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

“God I can’t stand her, always running behind me like a lost puppy giving me bentos that I didn’t even fucking as for” he complained, making you gasp.

“Really?” Exclaimed Hanamaki “I know you said she confessed to you one time, but I didn’t know it was that bad?”

“Yeah she’s a stalking bitch, it’s getting annoying.”

“Gosh it’s seems someones getting a taste of the ‘Oikawa Experience’” Matsun said making them all laugh.

You entered the room, furious. “What the fuck Hajime?”

“Woah woah woah, it’s seems your stalkers about iwa, we’ll leave you too it” said Hanamaki, with Matsun following behind him as they leave.

“What do they mean I’m a stalker?”

“Well aren’t you?” He responded with a smirk

“Gosh y/n you’ve been following me about for a while now, dont you think it’s time to stop”

“Bu-But you confessed, with your note and w-“

“Are you sure about that Y/N, cause I don’t really recall ...?”

“Hajime don’t lie, we were dating.. we ARE DATING.”

“Okay Y/N let me fill you in on a little secret,” he said leaning down next to your ear “I don’t want you Y/N, I never did.”

“ but why m-“

“Why you? Because nobody knows Y/N L/N and nobody cares, I can tarnish your name and nobody will give a shit.. and that’s why your an easy target” he said still smiling “ I just wanted to rub it into Shittykawas face that I had my own little “fan club”

You were stunned, frozen in shock as Iwaizumi walks past you to leave the gym, making sure to grab the bento you made him.

“Thanks again for the help, I’m definitely going to miss these bentos!”

You should have listened to your gut feeling from before.

Daichi: “you’re just not marriage material”

Daichi was “the perfect guy,” he was nice to strangers and was helpful to the community and just an all round great guy.

So it was a massive question as to why he went for you, since you were definitely not the girl for Daichi.

“I don’t care what anyone says, your the perfect girl for me” was what he always said.

Even though those statements went out the window whenever his mother got involved.

Daichi’s mum was a strict traditional woman, who believed in family values that went back thousands of years ago.

And she most certainly didn’t like you.

She wanted you to be Daichi’s doting wife, who cooked and cleaned for him. Whilst he works and was the breadwinner of the house.

Although you found no problem with the women that did do this, but this was not for you.

When it comes to meet ups with you, Daichi and his mother. He never told her to stop when it came to the rude comments she made about you, or the times she suggested Daichi go for a more “prim and proper” girl named “Misaki Ayuzawa.”

After the meetings, when his mother was gone, he always tried to reassure that she was wrong and her words didn’t matter.

But you knew they did, that daichi was actually considering some of the things she said about you wether they were true or not.

The tension in your household was strong, since you barely talked to each other anymore. But you had hope for better things...

Until one day, you get a message from Daichi’s mother saying. “It seems Daichi made the right choice, as we all know ‘Mother Knows best.’” With a video attached of Daichi proposing to the one and only “Mikasa Ayuzawa” surrounded by all their high class business friends.

When Daichi got home he yelled, “Y/N, where are you I was at this business party at this fancy restaurant and I got some nice things for you to try!”

“Business party?” You say rolling your eyes “Or Engagement party.”

The shocked look on his face made you smile, as you both knew now that he was caught.

“Fuck you daichi! Why would you do this without even tell me !” You yelled, tearing up a bit.

“Y/N, it wasn’t meant to go down like that it was just I was talking to my mu-“

“Fuck your mum! And you!”

“I’m sorry Y/N you’re just not marriage material an-“

“I don’t care what you’ve got to say, you’ve done it and it’s over with”you said leaving.

“I’ll come back to get my stuff later,” you say “oh and congratulations on the engagement Sawamura-San”

After you said that, Daichi’s heart broke.

He did end up marrying her, and he regretted every day of it. Since she was great and all, but she just wasn’t you...

But he knows now you’re long gone, definitely not going to forgive him for marrying another girl whilst being with him.

Ushijima : stop being so emotional

You and Ushijima were very much opposite In every aspect, and at first it wasn’t really a problem.

Especially since you always excused it as “opposite attracts.”

But recently all you and Ushijima do is argue, left and right always arguing.

You complained about Ushijimas lack of emotion when it came to you, you don’t think he cared about you or about anything.

Whenever you brought up something that was wrong he would reply with “Y/N this is something you need to be acting all upset about.”

And that would definitely upset you even more, you just wanted him to notice you or shout “Y/N I care about you and I love you.”

But Of course he didn’t.

One night he came back late (again) after promising to be home early to have a meal together.

“What’s taken you so long Ushi?” You asked

“I was at practice. I told you this.” He said simply, remaining as stoic as ever.

“But you said- you promised that we can have dinner together.” You said

“ oh well I’m sorry. We can have dinner now if you like.”

“I’m not hungry anymore” you mumbled past him, going to your bedroom.

“Y/N, what’s your problem” he said following after you.

“It’s nothing...”you said tears filling your eyes.

“Okay I’m going to go eat now.” He said leaving you alone in the room going to the kitchen, making you sigh.

After you calm yourself and collect your faults, you go into the kitchen where Ushijima is at the table eating.

“Ushijima, we need to talk.” You said taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“We should break up.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all you have to say?” You say tearing up again.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking that for a while now.” He said bluntly “since Y/N, you’re just too emotional.”

“Oh I see.” You say now full on crying.

Ushijima looks up to see you all teared-eye, and he is kind of suprised because ‘why were you upset.’ He got up and tried to console you, but you flinched away and said “Don’t, just don’t Ushijima.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...”

“Why are you sorry? Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“No.”

“Well then, just seems to prove my point further...” you go to leave before saying “thanks for the wonderful time... I guess we just weren’t meant to be.”

AN: can someone appreciate what I did with Iwaizumis....no? Okay 😃 I feel this one way way more angsty then part one but oh well. What did you think.

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