#but it takes a lot of thought to write therapy (ha who would have thought) and i've got so many other projects

[rewrittenwrongs]

Having thoughts about the League of Assassins. It’s pretty common among them to form hierchy/ranking around who’s a better fighter and who beat/killed who. I can’t remember if it’s canon but I like the idea that to prove your teacher has taught you all they have to teach you must kill them (not sure how that applies to history/math/whatever but. Moving on.) Working off of that idea, a lot of assassins in the organisation would already respect Tim for causing the death/defeat of the Council of Spiders; assassins that are so skilled they kill other assassins for fun. Him then TRICKING RA’S AL GHUL AND BLOWING UP (almost??) ALL OF HIS BASES, AND THEN OUTSMARTING HIM AGAIN WHEN HE TRIES TO DESTROY EVERYTHING BATMAN HAS BUILT, I feel like it’s reasonable to assume a lot of them would’ve decided Tim is the bigger threat or at least proved himself very formidable and a large threat. I imagine a lot of them would’ve sought him out in Gotham and pledged loyalty to him (kind of like Minions seeking out the evilest leader thanks for that thought brain), maybe doing full on traditional rituals to prove the transferring of their loyalty, like blood oaths or ritual spars idk, maybe giving him gifts or displaying their skills so he accepts them as allies rather than being disrespected and killing or maiming them since that’s the standard they expect in the League.

And Tim is uh. Very confused. Very surprised. And also trying hard not to show it. He accepts all the gifts and pledges and shit, because he sure as fuck ain’t gonna turn them back to Ra’s, but after that he doesn’t really know what to do with them. He hires a bunch of them at Wayne Enterprise and Drake Industries, tasks a bunch of them with working for Red Hood on the down low, maybe sends a couple on undercover missions to Arkham Asylum so they start treating inmates as actual human beings and stop using shock therapy or something, and makes sure to write them all up fair contracts and great pay with good work bonuses and plenty of leave, and makes sure most or all of them start going to therapy. The assassins love their new leader and would do practically anything for him.

But anyway, all that aside. I’ve had those thoughts in my head for more than a month. Something that just recently occurred to me is Mara al Ghul. Damian’s cousin. Another child raised by the League of Assassins, only this one never left.

Until, that is, she watches this freshly-immunocompromised vigilante arguably outsmart her grandfather twice, and decides he is the bigger threat, actually, I want to be on his good side when he takes over the world.

So now Tim is being forced into basically adopting this feral child, who’s only experience in American society was undercover missions to kill people, who thinks decapitated heads are reasonable gifts, who’s introduction to Tim was something batshit inside like dumping the Joker’s head in his lap because the Joker is Gotham’s most dangerous rogue and of course Tim will appreciate having him gone. But even with a well crafted facade she can tell Tim is unnerved and horrified, so she must be doing something wrong. Maybe it was because the Joker is Batman’s enemy and not Tim’s specifically? But Tim doesn’t have any arch nemesis aside from maybe Ra’s who she obviously can’t kill, so she does more research into Tim’s life and background and finds out Captain Boomerang killed his father so next she brings Tim HIS head and she can already tell he’s much more pleased this time. But there’s still that edge of unsettlement and wariness, and he’s acting so strange around her, so she digs deeper and finds out about the Titans Tower incident but Tim sent all these other assassins to work for red hood so they must be on good terms, and then she finds out about all the bad blood between him and Damian and Dick so she starts trying to kill them next, starting with Damian obviously (a mix of jealousy over him leaving the league and a good amount of cousin rivalry/cain instinct), but Tim stops the fight and tells her to stand down and now she’s scared that he’s going to punish her and Ra’s’ punishments were always so harsh and perhaps this time she can’t quite fight down the urge to hide.

Meanwhile, Tim is being dragged through a parent arc kicking and screaming, the bats are wondering why the hell there are suddenly so many assassins only after they scare off Ra’s, Jason is more or less vibing because he thinks the assassins are from Talia and the Joker’s dead so of course he’s ecstatic (even tho he wishes he knew who did it so he can thank them), Dick and Damian are still reeling from learning Bruce is alive/getting him back from the time stream when all of a sudden this masked child comes out of nowhere mid patrol and attacks Damian, and isn’t backing down even though Dick arrived quickly but when Red Robin arrives and yells stop she’s already three rooftops away by the time he’s done speaking. Everyone is tired and doesn’t know what the hell is going on except mayybe Oracle.

#disclaimer I have never read a comic with mara in it in my life so I apologise if this is horrendously ooc #mara al ghul #tim drake #league of assassins #red robin #damian wayne #ra’s al ghul #Batman #rewritten speaks #fandom thoughts #dc thoughts #fic ideas #batman thoughts #blackbird fly

[sharkneto]

5 Rob 1234... These exist?!? How MUCH do they exist??? What are the odds that we will eventually see them someday?

(for WIP ask game)

I've shared a few snips of them before (found HERE), and god... hopefully? I've got so many goddamn WIPs and so much less time to write than I used to during covid times, I can't promise anything and especially can't promise anything being soon.

It's a concept I love a lot - I love Five and Rob's relationship, I love Rob constantly tricking Five into cooperating with therapy until he starts doing it willingly on his own. I like the idea of Five trying to keep everything tight to his chest and aggressively keeping it there until Rob can get him to understand that he doesn't have to do that, that he doesn't have to live like that.

But it's a rarely worked on WIP (partly hence why there's multiple files of different Rob and Five conversations rather than One Set WIP), around JT and the apocalypse fic and Number vs Apocalypse Week fic and random odds and ends I play around with.

So, would I like to share it? Absolutely. Will it be any time soon? Absolutely not.

Long snip for your time, though. This is 5 Rob 3

(cw: some discussion of the implications of Five's physical vs actual age in terms of his brain and cognition, mostly from the angle of Rob being excited about brains and Five unimpressed by it)

“What are you thinking about?” Five asks after Rob doesn’t start off their session in the first minute of their meeting starting.

Rob keeps considering Five through the screen. “Your brain.”

Five blinks. “You do that to everyone?”

“More or less. When they’re my patients, definitely. And if there might be something interesting going on. Yours definitely has a lot going on.”

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

The sit and stare at each other through the screen some more. Five leans back in his seat, eyes narrowed slightly. “If I ask for specifics for what you’re thinking about in regards to my brain, will it be a long winded way of talking about something I don’t want to talk about or is this genuinely a tangent about my brain?”

Rob hums. “If I’m clever enough maybe I can loop it back to your problems but currently I’m just thinking about your brain.”

“This a hobby of yours?”

“A little bit, I guess,” he says with a laugh. “Also my job, but it is why I went psychiatrist route instead of psychologist route. If you go to medical school they let you look at more brain scans.”

“I’m sure that’s super normal,” Five deadpans.

“How would you know, with your fifty-eight-year-old consciousness in a thirteen-year-old brain?”

Five crosses his arms. “It’s almost fourteen,” he defends.

Rob thinks about that for a second. They’ve sort of talked around this before, and maybe with the birthdate coming up they should talk about it some more. He’ll poke. “Aren’t we technically still six months or so away from your physical birthday?”

That gets an exasperated huff from Five. “October 1, 1989 is my actual birthdate and I’m keeping that, it’s a constant that’s never going to change short of me fucking up so badly I’m not born, in which case I’ve got bigger problems – although not ones I’ll care about because I won’t exist.” Rob keeps a straight face. He actually loves it when Five gets on these little time-travel-insane-consequence rambles. Feels like a sci-fi movie and Sarah can’t poke holes in it like she does when they watch time-travel movies. Five also really likes to get on these tangents, so they’re really good for getting him talking on days he doesn’t want to talk – not that seems to be a problem today.

Five pauses but Rob waits. He’s not done. The pause stretches for a couple seconds before Five huffs again. “I’m not moving my birthday because I arbitrarily and accidentally changed my linear position in time. October first isn’t my actual birthday anymore, either, but the amount of effort to figure out the new date is completely not worth the effort. I could do the much easier-to-calculate physical birthday in February—” he cuts himself off with a suddenly blank expression.

Rob frowns. “Five?”

“The day’s not February tenth anymore,” he says, brow lightly furrowed.

“Why not?”

He blinks again, obviously doing math. Rob doesn’t know what it is about Five’s expression that tells him that he’s doing math, but there’s a specific sort of blankness he gets when he’s running numbers. “February tenth was my physical birthday in the apocalypse,” Five says slowly, still a bit distant. Rob subtly slides his notebook over and grabs a pen, even though Five can’t see it with how Rob has his camera angled. “It was February tenth. Now, though, assuming this body is the body I originally jumped from 2002 in…. oh, it’s still just February second. That was dumb.”

“Did you want it to be more different?”

Five shakes his head, a small frown on his lips. “No. I don’t know why I thought that was going to be a significantly different date. April 2, 2019 versus March 24, 2019 are only a week apart. I could have done that math much smarter. Christ, I’m getting stupid in my old age.”

Rob smiles. They’ve looped back to what he’d originally been thinking about. “Or your brain is thirteen. And a half,” he adds when Five gives him a flat look.

“What does my brain’s age have to do with anything?”

“A lot, actually. Maybe. What do you know about brain development?”

Five stares at him for a long moment. “Nothing.”

“Ah, lucky for us I know a lot about it. The cliff notes version of it is that there are set developmental phases for brains from ages zero to around twenty-five. Twenty-five is when science and medicine generally agree that everything is up and functioning, it hangs out there for a few years before it starts going in the other direction. Before that point, it’s building up pieces and pruning connections that allow for better logic and more complex thinking.”

“You’re saying I’m half developed. And you’re declining,” Five says dryly.

Rob shakes his head, ignoring the easy insult. “No. Maybe. See, you’re a really interesting case of the physical versus consciousness. A really fascinating case study that could be a missing key in understanding where what makes us us sits. You, yourself, are fifty-eight, assuming you haven’t been messing with me and your whole family this entire time—”

“What would the point be of doing that?”

“—which I don’t think you are, which is why I accepted you as a patient. I don’t know how you’d even go about trying to parse it out, because it’s such a messy knot. It’s why we’ve been wondering about consciousness and the self for centuries, millennia. But you have such an extreme difference between the two that we might just be able to get a hint.”

It’s quiet as Rob finishes. Five sits considering that, expression slightly pinched. Rob waits.

As Five continues to not say anything, Rob’s gut sinks a little. Maybe he got a little too excited about this, misjudged how interested Five would be about it. He did just pretty blatantly say that this man, who is already stuck looking like a thirteen-year-old, might actually be stuck in a much more real way as a thirteen-year-old.

“Five—”

“You know,” Five interrupts, “you and Sarah make a bit more sense now.”

It isn’t clear if that’s supposed to be a compliment or an insult. Maybe it’s neither. Five usually likes to rub in insults. “How do you mean?”

 “You both like puzzles. You just hide your intensity better than she does.”

Rob might have gotten a little too enthusiastic about how interesting a case Five is. “I’m sorry, Five, I—”

Five waves a hand, tone still low. “Don’t apologize. You know I appreciate candor. Was this the point?”

They haven’t been here in a little bit – Five directing with questions. Rob did miscalculate this. He can let Five keep the control. “Was what my point?”

“To talk about how shit it is to be a fully grown man who looks like a child?”

“No. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about and thought you might find it interesting, too. I had planned on today being a bit lighter on Big Things after last week.”

Five nods slowly. He’s not looking at Rob. “Wow,” he says after another moment. “Bad job of doing that.”

“I’m seeing that now, yeah.”

Five forces them to sit in that. Rob glances at the clock. He has forty minutes to salvage unless Five ends the session early.

“I get the appeal,” Five says after another long minute. “I’m an enigma on a lot of levels. Most of my life doesn’t exist anymore and what it was is so statistically improbable it should be impossible and unbelievable. This isn’t what all this has been about, right?”

He slips that question in as if it’s just an unimportant end to his statement. That’s how Rob knows it’s important. Five likes to bluster, likes to misdirect to avoid feelings and hard topics. The exception is when he needs real, important information. He’s not good at direct lies and it’s obvious the tactic he figured out for learning information he needed while trying to stay under the radar is to be as casual and nonplussed as possible. If Five doesn’t seem to care about the answer, maybe the person giving it won’t care about giving it either.

“No, Five,” Rob says without hesitation. Waiting until Five looks back up at the screen, he continues, “I agreed to be your psychiatrist because I think you need the help to sort through the everything of your life and also think I’m a good fit for helping you do that. You seem to agree, since we’ve been doing this for three months now. My own, side interest of what might be going on in your head isn’t a part of it, outside of my thoughts on non-psychotherapy approaches that might help you should you ever decide you want to try some drugs or physical treatments. Today’s tangent is just that, a tangent that I think is interesting but is non-defining of you or the work we do here.”

Five nods at that with a small frown. “To help you along on that tangent, then, so we don’t have to do it again – it’s wrong.”

“Okay?”

“Your little theory has me half-developed and stupid, of which I am neither.” He waves off Rob as he opens his mouth to apologize and explain. “It’s fine, as you just explained to me your brain function is also declining due to your advancing age. It is interesting, though, that your go-to direction for me doing a simple math calculation in an indirect way was to blame it on a possibly under-developed brain rather than the fact that I’m thirteen years older than you are and am farther along on my brain slipping into mush.”

Rob swallows and waits.

“But how I know you’re wrong about my brain is because, while I don’t remember much from being thirteen, I do remember some decisions I made when I was that age. One very big, very dumb decision. With absolutely no concern for the consequences and no back-up plan. That’s the sort of thinking thirteen-year-old brains do. It was a childish and very poorly calculated mistake. And I’m not that stupid now.”

“Understood,” Rob says. That sits between them, a bit heavy which was not Rob’s goal for the day so he adds, “You’re dumb because you’re old, not because you’re young.”

A smile ghosts at the edge of Five’s mouth. “Exactly.”

“Glad we cleared this up. I’m sorry I pushed us here, I misjudged. We’re good?”

Five nods. “We’re good.”

#i rotate these two in my head a lot #i'm really soft for their relationship #but it takes a lot of thought to write therapy (ha who would have thought) and i've got so many other projects #with JT as the current priority when i've got brain and time to Write Specific Project #that it really doesn't get much work #so #snips and chatting about it is what we've got #five finds therapy wip #i should have a rob tag #snips #ask game

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

#star-mum #my lovely moots #requests #requested #sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x plus sized reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #dc titans #titans #dc titans fanfiction #titans fanfiction #titans x reader

[luveline]

hiii, i just wanna say i absolutely adoreee ur writing ur amazing and fabulous. I wanted to request something with hotch where reader gets hurt pretty badly in the field and is gonna have to spend a lot of time in recovery (so like not being able to work in the field for a while) and just a lot of fluff and comforting? (thx ur the bestest ever ever ever and i <3 u i’ve been reading ur stuff for years)

love u <3 fem

Your leg is broken in four different places. 

Hotch is sure you're going to cry the moment you realise what that means, but he isn't expecting for it to be a minute after you've woken up. 

“We'll get you something for the pain,” a nurse promises.

“It's not that,” you say, you sob, looking between your leg and Hotch as though you're hoping he'll tell you something different. 

You live for your job. They all have their reasons, and they all have their vices. You and Hotch are the same —you can't live without this. There's no alternative. 

But your leg is undeniably broken. 

The nurse gives him a look, hoping he'll calm you down, and he would've started the moment your eyes welled with tears if he thought he could change the outcome. Still, it breaks his heart to see you so immediately upset. He has to try something. 

“It's not forever,” he says.

“How long?” 

“Not forever.” The break, the surgery, the physical therapy. He asked for the estimates. He doesn't want to be the one to tell you, but you won't accept it from anyone else. “Six months.” 

The broken leg isn't the end of it. Your wrist is fractured, your pinky and ring finger broken, a laceration the length of his hand up your thigh. You were concussed, you're still at risk of agitating all the things you've hurt. Your face crumples and you can't even cover it with two hands like you would. It is, admittedly, the worst you've ever been at. Hotch can't stand it.  

“Would you excuse us?” he asks the nurse. “I have her.” 

“Hotch,” you say as the door closes, your voice achingly unhappy, “make them check again.” 

He takes your uninjured wrist. Holds it. “They've done everything they can do. I promise you, I was here for all of it. I argued against the pins, I knew they'd keep you here longer, I– against my better judgement, I sent people away because I knew you wouldn't want them to see you like this. This is the best outcome I could salvage.” 

“This is the best?” you ask, shaking your head at him. “This is my life.” 

You didn't see yourself. The way you'd laid there after it was over. You don't get that this is a good thing, that you weren't hurt worse. All you can see is months of desk duty, and he can't even blame you, because six months away would make him ill. 

“This is the best I could do for you,” he says, rubbing your wrist with his thumb. “I'm sorry.” 

His apology catches you off guard. You make a sound near a hiccup and turn to him completely, the fat body of a tear dripping down your cheek to your chin, where it stays. He can see the question before you've asked it and he won't make you, either, leaning down to cover you up with his arms, his chin atop your head. “I'm sorry, honey. I know how much it means to you.” 

“It's…” Your good arm works around him weakly, a hesitant touch to his back. “Not your fault. I…” 

He lets you fade, rubbing at the top of your arm, enthusing you with as much warmth as he can. “Six months recovery doesn't mean six months out of the field,” he promises. “In two months you'll be walking. It won't feel as long as you're thinking.” 

“In a boot.” 

In a full cast, poor thing. He frowns, pressing his nose into your head. “You can consult from home just as soon as you're home,” he says softly, still rubbing your arm. The touch turns to a gentle stroking, his palm numb to the ticklish sensation your naked arm brings, the sleeve of your hospital gown bunching with each line he makes. 

“I know you're unhappy, but it will heal. And you have an army of people who can't wait to see you. We… things have been complicated.” 

“How long was I out?” you ask. 

“You were awake between surgeries, but it's been two days.” 

You hug him with more insistence. “Thanks for looking after me,” you whisper. 

Oh, sweetheart, he could say. He could kiss your crown. Honestly, Hotch could take your face into his hands and suddenly he is, he's holding your face and looking down at you, eyes dark and sorry to your silvery tears. 

He strokes your cheek. “It'll be alright,” he promises. 

You dissolve into tears again in his hands. He wipes them away as they come, for as long as they will. It's the least he'd do for you. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[csuitebitches]

2024 Planning

I started planning for 2024 today. I’ve learned a lot this year, made mistakes, had some successes and now it’s time to take all my learnings, good or bad, and go to the next level.

I prefer starting next year’s routine from 2023’s November and December so that by the time January rolls around, I’m settled into the routine. If there’s any revisions necessary, I can do them without starting my new year on the wrong foot.

I maintain my goals on mostly short and medium term basis. This includes daily, weekly and quarterly planning (I don’t do monthly because it doesn’t work for me).

This may seem complicated (actually, it looks more complicated than it is but it’s just what helps me) but let me show you how exactly I do things.

I keep two diaries. One for daily and weekly and one for quarterly. I have a habit tracker on my phone for my daily non-Negotiables (exercise, meditation, reading and language).

The quarterly diary is my big big diary. Every quarter, it lists out all the big plans, what i want to do and who i want to be. It’s all the messy thoughts I have, all my dreams, my weaknesses, my strengths, etc etc. The only “practical” part of the diary is that there is one general plan made at the end of my mad scribbling. It has the general idea, feedback I’ve received from other people and compilation of all the advice I’ve gotten from my mentors.

2. The daily - weekly diary breaks the plan into manageable bits. I write out the week’s plan (who do i need to meet, who do i need to follow up with, any major presentation coming up, any assignment, what am i reading this week) and write a one sentence daily update on it.

I can’t use a habit tracker for this because i’m not tracking meditation or exercise on here. I’m tracking my career goals, my ambitious goals, into smaller goals. A habit tracker wouldnt cut it because I would have to elaborate more on certain things.

For example:

“20-27th Nov: Weekly list

budget presentation on Monday

1 event to attend on Tuesday. Topic: XYZ

Reading: the inheritors

reach out to mentor, schedule a meeting

7 language essays and 7 videos

Monday, 20th Nov.

work presentation: complete.

Feedback received: i need to work on XYZ.

points they raised that didnt cross my mind: XYZ

follow ups required and if yes, with who: XYZ

reading: complete. Interesting point they brought up: XYZ

essay for the day: complete.

Video complete:

Tuesday, 21st Nov

mentor meeting scheduled

event went well. Met: A, B, C who work in XYZ companies. Follow up with them next week for coffee/ drinks.

essay: complete

video: complete”

Having two diaries helps me because i can find my bigger goals without having to go through the daily entry mess. I like having the two separate.

Nov ‘23 + Dec ‘23 + Q1 2024’s goals include:

Social (meeting new people, maintaining networks)

Intellectual (biographies, documentaries, industry reports)

Personal (soft skills, language studies)

Work (presentations, courses, conferences)

A major change I’ve making this year is actively working on every single weakness I have that I know is a potential strength. I’m ignoring weaknesses that I know are 100% weaknesses like coding because there’s just no way I can sit in front of a computer and learn all that, it’s absolutely not my cup of tea and does not make me happy.

I made a list of every single weakness i have and I’m embarrassed about and ashamed of. 2024 is the year of NO shame. I’m not letting my intrusive thoughts win.

Next to each weakness I wrote out a potential solution.

Ex: not picking up the language i’m studying as fast as i want to -> write 1 short essay and a 1-2 minute video of me talking about anything in that language every single day

I’m not allowing any unnecessary negative self doubt or self talk happen. Constructive criticism is one thing, being a bitch to yourself is another. I plan to learn a lot next year.

I’ve created a manageable exposure therapy plan for myself - I aim to meet 3 new people every month and follow up with 5 new connections every month, whether it’s over chat or irl.

I’ve made a list of business biographies I’m going to read. This year I reached my reading target earlier than anticipated which I’m very happy about. Next year I’m focusing on books that are solely about business, technology and psychology.

#powerful woman #c suite #strong women #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #getting your life together #balance #2024 planning #planning my year #Goals #goal setting #how to plan #diary #journal

[astrochaosmind]

my unpopular astrology opinions/observations to ig🍄🤗

y’all wanna talk about scorpios being very sexual and promiscuous/horny etc. but those fire and air signs thooo especially air signs they will literally tell everyone every detail about who they hooked up with or just their sex life in general

libra moons are way more out of toned with their emotions than gemini and aquarius moons sometimes

speaking of moon signs earth signs are also I noticed are more detached and stoic when it comes too other peoples emotions or just emotions

I feel like sagittarius is the funniest out of the other two fire signs but they also take things too far so can’t say to much about them lmaoo

scorpio moons are more likely to have deeper and intense emotions than any other moon sign

I think someone with a taurus 5th house could express their creativity and art through food mainly baking and just aesthetics

having a air/water 10H/midheaven could have a career in psychology , therapy , forensic science etc. something that helps the community or people as a whole basically

someone with a scorpio/pluto influenced 11th house could be very interested in dark stuff like true crime , or just anything that has to do with investigation/detective work

moon-venus aspects could be someone very intuitive , emotional and sensitive in relationships and may date someone off of how they would emotionally pursue you

virgo/scorpio/aries/libra mercury people are the main ones who dish what they can’t take

mars-ascendant/mars 1st house people look mad or angry I definitely think it’s because of the prominent brows but regardless they just look pissed off

air mercury people like too do and talk about multiple things at once and even write/talk about their every thought because they need something to do always or just to feel heard

anytime I see a person who is trending for doing some weird shit or saying something outta of pocket even very odd I just know they have either aquarius or sagittarius placements maybe even gemini

scorpioplacements can be into the more darker aesthetics, style and cancer could be into more cottage/softcore style and with Pisces definitely a style they think matches the vibe/energy that day

moon-mercury people may base their opinions and judgments off of feelings and intuition and not real facts

every person I’ve seen who is really pretty/handsome is or has libra placements

people I’ve noticed have relatively larger 🍒 have some type of cancer placements

having someone who has a lot of Venusian energy in their chart are the ones who will have perfume , extra makeup and accessories in their purse/car and I love ittttt

saturn- mercury people could be obsessed with talking/knowing about history or knows a lot of things that are old plus they have a very mature mind and a way of thinking

#astrology #astrology community #astrology observations #air signs #mercury signs #scorpio #earth signs #gemini placements

[arielleslipgloss]

It Girl Habits!!

(none of these photos are mine)

“You cannot live your life to please others. The choice must be yours.” - Anne Hathaway

Stay busy!! Do you see those it girls like Serena Van Der Woodsen scrolling on their phone all day? No, you rarely do. It girls are always busy doing something. So, therefore do some self care, study, workout, read, journal, go shopping, go on solo dates, hang out with friends, paint, have a dance party, etc. Do fun activities and take care of yourself. Another example of a busy it girl is, Elle Woods. Elle Woods wasn’t becoming one with the couch everyday. She had goals to achieve. She had people that doubted her to prove wrong. So get up! Start planning out your day or week. Start making goals!!

Have goals! You wanna know why you’re bored all the time? Well, it’s because you have no goals. You practically don’t have a life because all you do is sleep, eat, scroll, and repeat. You’re wasting time doing nothing. You could’ve had a clean room by now. Maybe you could have finished that book. Whatever it is, you could have had it. You could’ve been 1% better than yesterday. You don’t though because you have no goals. That time you’re wasting, can be used toward your goals. It can be used toward your dream life. Maybe, you do have goals? Yet you don’t even take action. What are you waiting for? For someone to do the work for you? No, get up and start taking action.

Be mindful of what you consume online!! Just like how who you surround yourself with affects you. What you consume online affects how and who you are. For example, listening to sad music makes you feel sad. Music is meant to tell a story that you feel deeply. You may not even relate to the song, but you feel as if you do. So, you become sad and continue to listen to sad music. When listening to uplifting music you gain confidence. You still feel like you relate to the song. Just with a more positive effect. As for what you watch and read. Don’t read/watch stuff that will put you down. Watch/read content that will help you.

Complimenting yourself every time you pass the mirror!! Some may say it’s cringy, but DO IT. Would you rather be cringy or be the best version of yourself? Exactly, so either say it out loud or in your head. Say it even if you might not believe it. Say it because you deserve it! Try to be creative with your compliments. Not all compliments have to be about your looks. It could be your personality, your thoughtfulness, how creative you are, etc. Also loosen up, be your own hype girl. When you see the mirror you could say, “Omg I look like the main character.” “Oh wait, I am!” Lastly, don’t forget to have fun with hyping yourself up.

Mediating or journaling when stressed!! When stressed we start to feel a lot of tension. So, that’s why meditating is so important to do when stressed. All you have to do is sit down and focus on breathing. Plus, It calms down your nerves, relaxes the mind, body, and soul. Not just that, but plenty of other benefits. Which includes, helps focus, betters mood, helps you sleep, slows down aging, etc. As for journaling, it’s practically free therapy! That is, at least in my eyes. All you need is a notebook, a pen or pencil, and yourself. Journal what’s making you stressed or anxious. Let all your emotions out, write freely. Your words don’t have to make sense. Nor do you need to have perfect writing. In fact, when you journal it may be all over the place. However or whatever you write, just let it out.

Expressing your gratitude!! Life is so beautiful and has so much meaning. So, either write down what you’re grateful for or thank God. You are so blessed to be here today. That is only just one thing to be grateful for. There are so many things to be grateful for, air, family, friends, your mind, being born as you, water, books, food, shoes, clothes, and so much more!! Express your gratitude everyday. It could be the most random thing like, a poster. As long as you’re truly grateful, then express it.

7. Having a low screen time!! Cliché, I know but it’s true. Your devices are consuming you. Think about what you use your device(s) for. Good examples are, for work, for motivation, tips, workout videos, inspiration, knowledge, and maybe even faith reasons. Now here are bad examples, procrastinating, sinning, hating on others, scrolling, because you’re bored, to watching videos of people that make you insecure, and lastly to cope with something. Which to clarify, trying to cope by using your phone, I understand somewhat. On the other hand, it could make what you’re coping with worse. I say that because there are so many studies on why our phone is bad for us. Seriously, so many and we are completely unaware of the damage it does. So for that reason, try to use your phone only for the good. I know you’re probably going to make an excuse. Which we all do and that’s ok, but please try.

8. Encouraging yourself to do better!! You should always be working hard to be 1% better everyday. So on the days you don’t feel like doing anything, encourage yourself. Show up for yourself, you will be so happy after. Lastly, trust yourself to get whatever done!!

9. Having a healthy sleep schedule!! For me, I try to aim for 8-11 hours of sleep. For others, it may be 7-10 hours of sleep. Whatever makes you feel the most well-rested should work. Just try to be consistent and mindful of the time. I also recommend to be off your phone for at least 30-60 minutes before going to bed. It will improve how you sleep a lot. That also being said, try not to be on your phone when you wake up either. It’ll help improve your health by a lot. Especially, the health of your brain and eyes. As I had mentioned, try to be consistent. Set a certain time to go to bed and turn off your phone. Then, get your lovely beauty sleep gorgeous!!

10. CLEANING!! The last habit is, cleaning. Now, I don’t just meaning cleaning your room or house. I mean even your body and mind. For starters, a clean room equals a clean mind. Therefore, stop procrastinating and start cleaning. Turn on some fun music and maybe even romanticize cleaning. Just make it fun and DEEP clean. I know someone reading this has been procrastinating on cleaning. You know who you are, so clean everything. Then, for cleaning the mind a little extra meditate. I feel like I already went over a bit about meditation. So lastly, for the body, take your showers consistently. Also, please wear deodorant. I see way too many people nowadays not wearing deodorant. Seriously, wear your deodorant.

“Always walk around like you have on an invisible tiara on.” - Paris Hilton

Remember, always apply lip gloss and stay pretty! Love you, dolls 💋

Info I used: https://reallifecounseling.us/blog/benefits-of-meditation

My Pinterest: @arielleslipgloss

#glow up #that girl #wonyoungism #becoming that girl #clean girl #it girl energy #pink pilates princess #girl blogger #health is wealth #it girl #it girls #girly stuff #girly tumblr #girly girl #it girl tips #pinterest girl #girlblogging #girlblogger #girlblogger aesthetic #girlblogger interrupted #this is what makes us girls #girlhood #this is a girlblog #just girly things #lana del rey #anne hathaway #taylor swift #natalie portman #princess diaries #devil wears prada

[eggluverz]

omg omg omg my therapy blog!!! ok. so. Highschool AU! Dan Heng x Fem! Reader It's basically Jing Yuan setting up his besties together. For some context: -Dan Heng's the student gov. president and is descending into a void of unhealthy perfectionism -So Jing Yuan is trying to get him a gf to take his mind off things...And reader (his other bestie) is the perfect candidate... I'm excited how you'll write this!!!

NO TIME TO WASTE

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader

GENRE. modern au, school au, fluff

WORD COUNT. 2,349

SUMMARY. dan heng's a workaholic, you're the only one who can get him to look away from his work, and jing yuan thinks the two of you just need to get together.

SOF'S NOTE. thank you anon for the request!! fhsjgfds therapy blog 🥹 i hope u enjoy! it can be read as hs or college au i didn't specify! but i loved student pres dan heng and meddling jing yuan LOL ty for reading! 🥰

Jing Yuan watched as his friend slowly spiraled into insanity. It was the quiet type of insanity— One in which his friend was staying up late and not getting enough sleep, only focusing on grades, classes, and extracurriculars, taking on way more responsibilities than a normal, sane person could handle, and even neglecting his social life and connections for it all.

Dan Heng continued to switch between his daily planner and the notes on his laptop, furiously typing away and completely oblivious to Jing Yuan’s concerns. 

Resting his head on the palm of his hand, Jing Yuan examined the student body president wordlessly. He knew being head of student government was a lot of work— Even as the secretary he found the workload to be almost overbearing at times. But that wasn’t a good reason to completely ignore other integral aspects of life.

“Sorry I’m late!” 

Jing Yuan looked up at the sound and instantly smiled. 

You walked through the door with three bubble teas in hand. As vice president of the student government, you frequented the counsel room along with the other members for study sessions after school. There was such thing as student council privileges, after all. 

Dan Heng, who had been completely oblivious to Jing Yuan’s attempts to catch his attention, surprisingly lifted his head at the sound of your voice. 

“I got us drinks for our study session!” you exclaimed, passing out the boba before sitting in the open seat next to Dan Heng. You gathered the notebooks from inside your book bag and placed it on the desk in front of you. 

“Thank you,” said Dan Heng with a smile as he poked his straw through the plastic cover. “This one’s my favorite.” 

Jing Yuan noticed that was the most Dan Heng has said since he stepped foot in the student council room and an idea formed in Jing Yuan’s head. Perhaps the only thing that could cure a workaholic such as Dan Heng was love. Budding love between two stressed students.

Or, at least, a date.

His two best friends, president and vice president of student government, would certainly be a force to be reckoned with. 

Jing Yuan decided he had to take some action. For the greater good of his friend’s wellbeing, of course. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“So, what do you think of Dan Heng?” 

Your eyes widened at your friend’s words. They could have been innocent words that held no ulterior motive, if it weren’t for the fact they came from Jing Yuan’s mouth. 

He was too good at reading people and you were too transparent. It wasn’t exactly a great mix at times. For you, at least.

“W-What do you mean?” you coughed.

Jing Yuan had offered to drive you home after today’s study session and you happily obliged. While you found it strange he didn’t offer Dan Heng one as well, you paid it no mind since Dan Heng said he wanted to stop by the bookstore first anyway. 

Part of you wished you offered to go to the library with him, but you quickly brushed those thoughts aside. 

With one hand on the wheel, Jing Yuan glanced at you at a red light. “I’m only asking your opinion of him. Do you find him favorable? Handsome? Enticing even?”

Sitting up on your seat in high alert, you cautiously replied, “Perhaps, yes. Why do you ask?”

You weren’t one to tell lies; you saw no point in them. And Jing Yuan knew it too, hence why he is unabashedly asked such a crass question. 

He smiled. “My suspicions tell me he thinks the same of you.”

“As if,” you laughed. 

“I mean it.”

Raising your brow, you stared at him. “And what do you want me to do with that information?”

“Act on it, perhaps. Since Dan Heng seems too consumed by work to notice himself.”

“He seems too consumed by work to even notice me as anything romantic,” you corrected, folding your arms across your chest. 

Jing Yuan parked at your driveway as he arrived in front of your house, but you stayed inside the car for his response. 

“He is,” said Jing Yuan in agreement, nodding. “But that’s the issue— He’s unhealthily taking on too much schoolwork and extracurriculars and not caring for his personal life. Dan Heng would let something great pass him by without him even being aware of it.”

You couldn’t refute that, you thought with a dry smile. Dan Heng quickly became a good friend of yours after you both joined the student council, but you noticed he never really did anything outside of school and clubs. As a self-proclaimed overachiever yourself, even you made time to go on dates and spend time with friends. It was quite concerning the Dan Heng never did. 

“You are that something great, in case you missed it.”

Startled, you chuckled at Jing Yuan’s words. “I’m not too sure about that, but I am interested in him. Maybe a date would be fun!”

He leaned his head back on the driver’s seat, a lazy grin spread across his lips. 

Your stomach fluttered as the nerves set. “But do you think he’d agree?” 

“Only Dan Heng knows the answer to that,” said Jing Yuan. “However, from what I see, he’s more interested in you than in anyone else he knows.” He ruffled the top of your head and you batted his hands away with a giggle. “Give it a shot, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Jing Yuan! I will.”

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

You had no clue why you thought listening to Jing Yuan would be a good idea. 

As you stared at Dan Heng with your eyes wide open, you couldn’t help but instantly regret the words that had just left your mouth. Still, you came this far; you couldn’t simply say, “Just joking! Please forget I said anything!” now. 

The man in front of you blinked slowly, seemingly speechless. 

Finally, he said, “Are you asking me?”

You almost choked on air at how dense he was. There was no one else in the student council room— Jing Yuan skipped out on today’s after school homework session solely to let you and Dan Heng have the room alone. 

“Yes,” you confirmed with a nervous laugh, “of course I was talking to you. We’re the only ones here.” You looked around the empty room that had the door closed. “I was asking you if you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Dan Heng titled his head to one side. “A romantic date, correct?”

You nodded, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of your shirt. Softly, you said, “That’s correct.”

He smiled to himself but took his time to formulate his next sentence. The silence was unnerving, but the look of happiness on his face helped soothe the butterflies in your stomach. 

“I haven’t been on a date since I joined student government,” he admitted, drumming his fingers quietly against the table. “I haven’t had much time to even explore that part of my life lately. I might not be a very good date.”

You looked down at your textbook, avoiding his gaze as you braced yourself for a rejection. 

“But, if you’d allow me,” Dan Heng continued, “I’d still want to try to make it a good one with you.”

Your head shot back up, unsure if you heard him right. When your eyes met his, you noticed he was smiling as he awaited your response. 

“I’d love that!” you said, your expression soon matching his. “Are you sure you aren’t too busy, though?” 

He was president of the student government after all. And the annual concert your campus hosted was coming up soon— You knew Dan Heng would have even more on his plate in the upcoming weeks.

For a second, Dan Heng considered it. “I will be busy, but so will you.” He tapped the clipboard with a list of potential artists you had to book for the event on your head gently. “Still, I think I can make time for a date with you.” Hearing his words out loud, he frowned and instantly corrected himself. “I want to make time to date you. Because I’m interested in you, too. In a romantic way.” 

You giggled at Dan Heng’s his clarifications. It was a little messy and a little blunt, but it was very much him. And really, that’s all you wanted.

“How long have you known you were interested in me?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your chin on your palms, eagerly waiting for his reply. “As more than a friend, of course.”

He hummed. “It’s hard to say.” 

“Take your time.”

“I would say I felt different around you for a few weeks now, but, to be honest, I never pinpointed that as liking you or having feelings for you then,” he said after some deep thought. “I didn’t really entertain any thoughts of a potential romantic connection in the near future, so I’m not sure if I ever conceptualized what I feel in words before.”

You nodded in understanding, but still felt a bit downcast. It wasn’t unnatural to be unaware of your feelings, especially when trying to figure out what they meant was not your top priority. Yet, you were still saddened that Dan Heng didn’t have some huge confession to tell you like in the romance novels you had read. 

Before you could get too doleful, Dan Heng spoke up again. “But,” he interjected, “what I do know is that I felt drawn to you more than I felt with any other friends.” 

Your hand that was fiddling with the hem of your shirt stopped its moving as you focused fully on him. 

He looked away almost sheepishly, the apples of his cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink known to man. “I always looked forward to these study sessions, and I could never wait to see you come in with a grin and a bag of snacks in hand, and sometimes I would wonder what it’d be like to get dinner with just you and not the rest of the council members after a Friday study session…” Dan Heng slowly turned his gaze back onto yours, gaining more confidence of his words. “If that is me liking you, then it’s been that way for a while now.”

Hiding a grin, you bounced up and down on your seat. “Yep, that sounds like you like me, if I do say so myself!”

At your reassurance, he laughed, any hesitation fading away. “Well, there we have it then.” He picked up his pencil and started twirling it around the tips of his fingers. “And, if I may ask, when did you realize you were interested in me?”

“Maybe a month or two now,” you said after a few beats. “I just never said anything because I didn’t think you were into me at all!” 

Dan Heng furrowed his brows but didn’t refute. He wasn’t the easiest person to read, after all. Especially when he didn’t know what exactly he was feeling himself. 

“Jing Yuan told me he thought you might be interested, so I figured it was worth a shot— I guess a small push was all I really needed.”

“Hmm.” He placed the pencil he was spinning back on top of his notebook. “Well, I guess we have Jing Yuan to thank for once. Not that he should get used to it”

You laughed at his crass words. Dan Heng and Jing Yuan always had some sort of one-sided fighting going on, namely on Dan Heng’s end, but you knew he viewed Jing Yuan as a close friend despite his sarcasm.  

“Right, we can’t let his head grow any bigger,” you teased with a chuckle. “But for this, maybe we owe him some gratitude.” 

“Agreed.” Dan Heng nodded. “Enough of Jing Yuan, though. Let’s talk about our date.” He ruffled through his book bag and pulled out a flyer from inside a folder. It was crisp and clean, but he straightened it out anyway before showing you. “If you didn’t already have something in mind, there’s a new exhibit at the museum that I think you’d love.” 

Your eyes briefly scanned the flyer and your excitement grew. “This looks great! I love museums!” you agreed readily. 

The art would be beautiful, the history would be interesting, and maybe, just maybe, Dan Heng would hold your hand as you walked through the exhibits and even give you a kiss at the end… You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought and you chastised yourself for letting your mind run wild. 

Clearing your throat, you snapped out of your fantasies. “And maybe after that, we can get dinner together?” 

He nodded, the corners of his lips upturned as he put the museum flyer away. 

“Great! Then all that’s left is picking day!” 

“This Saturday?” he suggested.

“So soon?” you said. “Eager, are we?”

“Yes, actually.”

Your stomach flipped at his honesty and you felt yourself growing bashful. “Well, I am too.” 

Dan Heng let out an amused breath of laughter. “I’m glad to hear that. I will pick you up at your house after lunch time then?”

“I can’t wait!”

The two of you basked in your shared excitement. You had assignments due, club meetings to prepare for, events to plan, yet the only thing you wanted to focus on right now was enjoying your time with Dan Heng. You wouldn’t let life pass you by and you wanted to take a chance with him. You hoped he felt similarly. 

Dan Heng took out his daily agenda, flipping to Saturday and drawing a giant happy face over the box. In small writing, you saw him note down, Museum date with Y/N. :)

You giggled at the sight, touched that you were important enough to go on his sacred planner. He even booked the entire day for you instead of scheduling you in.

“I’m looking forward to our first date,” Dan Heng stated happily as he packed his pen away. “Let’s make it a good one.”

#dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #dan heng #hsr imagines #hsr fanfiction #dan heng imagines #hsr #hsr fluff #star rail #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #dan heng x you

[gurugirl]

A Balancing Act | Ch. 4*

Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.

Chapter Summary: Harry brings Y/n with him on his European tour but when Y/n decides she needs a break to figure things out Harry is beside himself. He's sure she's going to break up with him but she's sure he doesn't want the same things she does. When they finally talk will they both be on the same page?

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, dom/sub dynamic, angst, DDlg kink,

Word Count: 12.5k

Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)

A Balancing Act Masterlist

A balancing act requires soft poise and harmonious alignment. The joining of differing needs and wants to acquiesce for a perfect, or nearly perfect outcome. One can’t have more than the other. All sides must be used to make a point. The leveling of opinion and decision coupled with the desire to satisfy the ideal effect.

“Put that down. It doesn’t do any good.”

Y/n looked up at Harry who’d placed his palm over her phone to cover her screen. She was trying not to obsess about the pictures of herself. There were so many. And now that she’d been seeing Harry for a few months and was on tour with him in Europe, the gossip abounded. It was wild how quickly everyone learned her name, her age, the fact that she had been married, where her art pieces were showing, and even what kind of car she drove. It was… a lot.

“I know but they’ve caught me in the worst outfit and angle and these comments-“

“Please don’t do that,” Harry spoke as he sat down next to her and slid the phone from her hands, “You’re a knockout. I’ve never once looked at you and thought otherwise. None of that matters. Okay? It’s us. You and me.”

She nodded as he pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, “I know. But still. I’m just not used to any attention. Not like this.”

“The best thing you can do is to ignore it and don’t look at the articles.”

But of course, that was easier said than done. Going to Europe with him had been a whirlwind. So many fans and friends and his family, day trips, flights, drivers, shopping, studio sessions, meetings, rushing, concerts, flowers, kissing, late-night talking, falling deeper for the man, and sex. There was a lot of sex.

It was stressful. It was fun, though, too. And she enjoyed spending time with Harry in his world but there was very little time for herself in her own world. She didn’t put paint, or ink on canvas the entire time she was with Harry in Europe. She never found the time, even though she had downtime, her inspiration waned. When Harry was in the studio writing, jamming, and making music she didn’t normally go. In fact, after going with him only twice she realized how awkward it was for her to be there. He was working with his band and his team. She was of no use there with him. She felt like she was just in the way. And she didn’t want to be the kind of girlfriend that followed him around like a puppy everywhere.

So she stayed in the hotel or in the villa or wherever they were staying depending on the leg of the trip. She’d venture out to go to cafes by herself, do some shopping, or just to walk around but it became a game of dodging people on the street who started to recognize her. Pictures and videos were taken without her consent. Later she’d see some of the photos in gossip articles and comments saying how she called the paps on herself because why on earth would anyone want a photo of her?

The hate came quickly. The vitriol for a woman that no one knew. Her social media accounts were stalked, screenshots taken and posted on other social media accounts about her and her art and what kind of person she might be based on old posts she’d long forgotten.

One old post on Instagram was of her out on her bachelorette party before she was married. It was a series of six photos. She was wearing something a little bit skimpy, but nothing too crazy. Most of the pictures showed her with a drink in hand, one of her dancing with some man she didn’t know, and the last one was of her the next morning with mangled hair and smeared makeup, a mimosa raised upward, and the words printed over the photo ‘hair of the dog’.

That one got a lot of attention. She was an alcoholic party girl, too fat to be wearing something so revealing, ugly, a slut (for dancing with a man), and the worst insult was “no wonder her ex divorced her”.

Yes, Harry’s fans learned that she had been married. Some knew that her husband had died (she wasn’t sure how they knew). But most assumed she was divorced because she didn’t post publicly about the tragic loss she endured. It was no one’s business, but for people who didn’t know her to make wild assumptions about what had occurred in her marriage was the most hurtful.

But on the other side of that were the fans that simply refused to believe he could be dating Y/n. Many were convinced Harry was either already in a relationship with an ex-band member from his boyband days or it was all for public relations. That her “team” and his “team” were in on something together for publicity. Because that would be the only explanation. Harry would never stoop so low as to date someone like Y/n. Someone who looked like Y/n. Couldn’t be. The Harry “they knew” would never.

Then of course there were those that thought she was simply using Harry’s fame to boost her own popularity in the art world. She was a leech, a sneak, conniving… It all hurt. She wasn’t sure she could stomach much more. And yes, it was true that interest in her art was boosted. Which she really didn’t like because it was more to the fact that “this is a piece of art painted by Harry Style’s girlfriend” rather than a painting that was pleasing to the eye and worth the price tag.

And Harry’s late nights at the studio and after a concert were tiresome. She had been catapulted into this strange reality with a famous man that she felt herself falling for. But how did she fit in with it all? She couldn’t see herself finding her place with him. It all felt very temporary. And the fact that she’d lost the inspiration to create herself was troublesome. The plan was that she could still paint and travel with him and they’d get to be together. She didn’t have to stay home to paint. It was supposed to be easy. But it wasn’t.

But as awful as all that was, she and Harry got closer. He’d arrive late to their bed, crawling over her and wrapping her up in his arms. Normally she’d wake up and nuzzle into him and sigh as they both fell asleep. Sometimes Harry wasn’t ready to go to sleep and he was very persuasive. If he wanted her, well, he had her. She looked forward to, with impatience, having sex with Harry.

Harry had changed her entire view on sex. It was nothing like she’d ever experienced before. Prior to Harry, sex was just sex. It was usually good. Sometimes she’d orgasm. But with Harry, it wasn’t just sex. It was the joining of two separate beings in an act that was vulnerable, exciting, novel, and made Y/n’s heart thrash about in her chest from nerves and thrill. She hadn’t realized how addicted she’d become to what he did. How he handled her body and her mind.

Usually, though, she and Harry had sex during the day. With the sun in the sky, curtains open, and people milling about. She had always been used to nighttime, lights out, on her marital bed sex. Harry liked to have sex anywhere. And he liked to see it all. All of her bits. He’d kiss and praise and then spank her if she tried to hide herself. They had fun together. Sex hadn’t ever been so fun. And she slowly started to see her body in a different light.

After his last show in Paris, she went to his dressing room, like she always did after a show, and he scooped her into his arms and kissed her broadly on the lips in front of everyone. He was hard.

A small gasp fell from her lips as she craned her neck back to look up at him in surprise. He only winked down at her, swiftly turned her around, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He was literally using her body to block his erection from view of his bandmates and the event staff.

When Mitch and Sarah finally made their way to their shared dressing room Harry told his assistant he didn’t need help and dragged her to his big couch after locking the door.

“Need you to take your panties off right now,” Harry spoke as he unbuttoned his pants and kept his eyes on her.

Y/n was wearing a cute maxi dress that was comfy and easy to dance in. She learned that she needed to wear clothes that were comfortable at Harry’s concerts because there was lots of dancing. But she also wanted to look cute because there was never a shortage of photos of her, no matter how much she hated that part. And if she wasn’t dancing she was a fake, a bad girlfriend, a fat blob. Oh, but of course, even if she did dance then that meant she was trying too hard, making herself look ridiculous, and then there was the odd comment about how she was too large to be attempting to dance at all.

She pushed those thoughts down as she lifted the bottom of her dress upward and slid her panties down her legs as Harry pulled a small belt with a ball at the center out of his bag. His pants were undone but his underwear was bulging at the crotch, his cock pressing outward with strain. He stood over her where she was sat on the couch and took her panties from her hands and then motioned for her to turn around, “Face the wall, get on your knees.”

“Harry what are you-“ her words turned into a yelp as he smacked her bottom.

“Do you fucking never learn?” He leaned in and spoke quietly, his voice deep and dark, “You’ll be getting paddled tonight for that mistake. Address me properly.”

Cursing under her breath she squeezed her eyes closed. She didn’t know what it was that didn’t allow her to so easily fall into just calling him Daddy like he wanted. She needed lots of reminders and her bruised bottom was proof of all of her forgetful little moments.

Part of her secretly loved it. Enjoyed the thrill of needing to be corrected and not simply giving in to him all the time.

“Sorry. Daddy. What are you doing?” Her tone clearly sardonic. 

Harry raised his brows and shook his head, ignoring her mouthiness, “I’m going to fuck you against the couch and gag you so no one hears you. Now, turn around pretty girl.”

She pulled herself to her knees and turned so her palms were clutching the leather at the top of the couch and immediately felt Harry’s hands pulling her dress up so her bum was fully exposed and issued another sharp swat to her left side. She jolted in shock before turning to watch Harry behind her.

Harry brought his hands up, her panties in hand, and swiftly pulled the material over her eyes, tying the sides to the back of her head to keep it in place.

“Uh, those are expensive! You’ll stretch them!” She countered as the material hung over her sight.

Harry chuckled darkly and she felt his lips at her ear, “Who bought them for you, baby? I’ll buy you more. Don’t worry about it. Now, keep that mouth open.”

She opened her mouth quickly and felt the silicon ball take its place in her mouth, as he adjusted the buckle to the back of her head. She was unable to see or speak as she was pushed forward, her chest being pressed into the couch. Her bottom was still uncovered and she felt the cool air of the dressing room on her skin as Harry gently caressed her flesh down to where her legs were bent at her knees and over the backs of her calves and ankles before spreading her legs further apart.

“Keep your hands on the wall behind the couch, like this,” Harry moved his palms over her arms until he reached her wrists and pulled her arms out so she kept her hands flat on the wall, causing her back to arch the slightest.

“Good girl. So hot. Unbelievable baby. Daddy’s gonna have a taste now.”

She couldn’t see much or speak at all but she could certainly hear and feel. And the moment Harry’s tongue licked up through her crease her mind shifted into another gear. Harry had eaten her out in this position before. Behind her, his nose at her bum. At first, it gave her a lot of hesitancy, worried she smelled or tasted odd. But he always insisted she was delicious and he could eat her for dinner every night for the rest of his life. His reassurances had her at ease, but it still always gave her pause.

Harry moaned into her pussy as he licked and kissed. His hands were on her ass, spreading her apart as he softly licked, licked, licked… wet and hot from clit to ass, from clit to ass, clit to ass… He spat over her and stuffed two fingers into her cunt and she squealed into the gag, the sound hardly heard in the room. Harry chuffed a laugh at her muffled noises.

Soon she was soppy and achy. Harry noticed how she was pushing herself back into him. That’s where he liked to get her. To the point she was seeking her own pleasure. Where she was so worked up she wanted more.

Harry sat back and stood from the couch and pulled his cock out from his underwear. He pressed his hips into her bottom and brushed his hands over her waist, pushing her dress higher, “Daddy needs his cock milked now. So fucking horny for you, sweet girl.”

She grunted in relief when he pushed into her. It was always a welcome moment. To have his dick inside of her, parting her insides and nudging into her cervix. He was curved in such a way that his wide cock pushed into her front wall on each stroke anytime she was in this position while he was fucking into her.

She kept her hands on the wall as he pounded into her and she steadied herself the best she could but Harry was strong and he always went in with such force that it caused her a good jolt forward on each snap of his hips. Delicious.

When his long fingers wrapped around the front of her neck he squeezed the sides and slowed his plunges, “Wish everyone could hear us. Could hear how filthy your pussy gets when I fuck it. How creamy you are. Wish they could hear how it sounds to have my cock slipping deep into your wet hole.”

Y/n felt her cheeks burn and her head get foggy under the pressure of his fingers on her throat. His thrusts increased again and the couch rocked under them into the paper-thin wall Y/n used to keep herself held up.

A knock at the door and a muffled voice from behind had Harry slowing down but never stopping, “M’busy! Be out in a bit!”

She couldn’t hear whatever was said from behind the door because her ears were ringing. Harry’s cock inside of her gave her tunnel vision. She almost didn’t care if anyone heard at that point. Her body felt so good, her pussy being worked open and split down the middle, her guts rearranged, her ass smacked, throat choked.

“Fans want me out there, but I needed you first didn’t I baby?” Harry’s thrusts were sloppy and harsh as he panted his words, “Daddy wants to fuck his come into you so you’ll be out there with everyone while my sperm drips out of your pussy and down your legs. My dirty little come hole. But that’s what Daddy’s little girl likes, isn’t it? Fuck…” Harry looked down at where he was being gripped by Y/n. Her tight little pussy working its magic on him.

Y/n’s telltale signs were beginning to show. Her thighs were shaking and her back was arching and she was grinding herself onto him each time he’d pull back. She was going to come.

Harry choked out a loud groan into the room, “Fuck! I’m gonna come!”

He reached down to rub her clit just as he began to pour into her pussy. He clenched his teeth and moaned into her ear. With the angle he needed to reach her clit his chest was pressed into her back, his stiff and sharp movements were forceful into her and she felt her own orgasm follow moments later. Thanks to his long fingers that knew just what to do and where to press to get her off.

Drool slid down her chin and to her clavicle as she came. The noise of the couch still creaking under her knees as Harry continued pushing into her increased in sound.

Harry hissed and moaned and kissed the back of her neck as he kept himself stuffed inside of her as she spasmed around him, squeezing his cock of all he had and letting it drain into her. A beautiful symphony of sex in the dressing room.

Harry laughed as he removed the gag and the panties from her face. She had small marks that dug into her skin from the fabric of the panties and the leather of the belt.

“God you’re gorgeous. Gonna go out there with me to meet the fans with my come slipping out of your cunt all night? Hmm?” Harry teased as she straightened her dress out and caught her breath.

And of course, that’s exactly what happened. She walked around and met some fans. Most didn’t know who she was. Some knew her as the girl that had been spending time with Harry. Others joked that she was following him around and that he didn’t want her there.

One pretty young thing, probably still in college, went from having her picture taken with Harry to making a snide remark to Y/n, “I love how you don’t care how you look when you dance.”

To which Y/n replied, “I’m just having fun out there like everyone else,” as she shook her hand (which she hadn’t yet washed after being fucked into oblivion) and felt Harry’s orgasm dripping down her thigh.

There was something so poetic about that moment. The secret that she and Harry shared. The reason why he was 20 minutes late to greeting his fans backstage. And Y/n was the bearer of said secret. Literally, since his come was still inside of her.

And that was just one of many times Harry fucked her in his dressing room. It became a regular thing. He’d gag her to keep her quiet but anyone who stood close enough to the door could hear him moaning and the sounds of skin smacking together and couches rocking. But no one ever said anything. It was Harry’s show after all.

There was one time when they went to an event. The lovely space was packed with people and the table they sat at was mostly Harry’s crew. Jeff and Tom were there and some others. All were people Y/n had gotten to know on some level.

And as per usual, Harry was horny. Y/n had gotten used to his extremely high libido and surprised herself even when she matched him in it. She hadn’t realized she was this way until Harry came along.

She was wearing a custom dress. Nothing like she’d ever had the chance to wear before. She’d worn lovely dresses and her wedding dress, she thought, would have been the nicest article of clothing she’d ever wear. But this dress… this dress was absolutely superior to anything she’d ever laid on her body. She loved it. It fit her so well and flattered her curves and made her feel pretty.

“Want to bend you over this table and spank you so hard right now. Tear this dress off you and make you ride my cock right here at the table,” Harry spoke into her ear as their plates of food were being placed in front of them.

Y/n just smiled and nodded as she listened to him tell her what he wanted to do. That was something she also had started to get used to. He’d do things like this in public and it startled her at first, but after some time she started to enjoy it.

When everyone began eating Harry lowered his hand to her thigh and pulled her dress up. No one could see what he was doing from under the table but Y/n felt it. The material of the dress was slowly lifted until he’d pushed the fabric up enough that he could smooth his palm up between her plush thighs and tickle her pussy with the tips of his fingers.

Y/n let out a gasped laugh and leaned forward before turning to look at Harry in surprise. He only smirked back at her and lifted his brows, “You okay, my dear?”

And Harry usually got his way. If he wanted something he could pretty much always get it. Just like how he wanted her to spread her legs wider so he could have access, she gave it to him. Just like how he wanted to slide two fingers into her cunt, she let him.

To everyone at the table, Harry was holding her thigh. Nothing more. He continued to chat and make jokes as he softly fucked his fingers into Y/n’s pussy.

And the thing about this was that he couldn’t apply much pressure, if any, to her clit, so he fingered her for nearly the entire duration of their dinner. His hand was wet between her legs as he continued slow, meaningful thrusts of his fingers into her.

She was on edge. So absolutely wrecked and worked up that Sarah interrupted the conversation at the table, “Y/n. Are you okay?”

Her chest was rising and falling fast. Harry paused his movements and looked over at his lover and realized, she was indeed a mess. Had barely touched her food when everyone else had just about finished and was panting and sweating. He smiled.

“Oh! Yeah. I… probably should,” she paused to hold back her gasp as Harry pushed his thumb over her clit, “go to the bathroom. Real quick! I’ll be right back!”

Harry was forced to remove his hand from between her thighs and she pushed her skirt down and quickly walked to the hallway where she knew the restrooms were.

Harry excused himself from the table with the excuse to check on her.

Y/n was already rubbing at her clit to make herself come in the stall when Harry barged into the bathroom, “Y/n. Come out, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Her eyes widened and she was quick to walk out of the stall. She needed him badly, “Please, your cock, Daddy,” she said as she lifted her dress and Harry pushed her to lean over the sink and pulled his cock out on her request. He was already hard. Fingering her and feeling her clench around him as she grew wetter and wetter each minute had done him in.

Her panties were ruined. He pushed the drenched material to the side and plunged into her softly as they both moaned, “Rub that pretty little clit for Daddy, baby. Get yourself off.”

It was probably the quickest fuck they’d ever had. Four minutes tops. Y/n was already on fire as her orgasm burst from her core and Harry held her cheeks apart so he could watch his cock, covered in her arousal, slip in and out, in and out until she was coming and shaking and gasping.

White gobs of her come stuck at his base as he continued fucking into her deep and he finally came, filling her to the brim with his come. He pulled out to watch himself drip from her pussy and then pushed himself back in to keep his sperm inside of her where it belonged, “Holy fuck, baby. Your pussy is incredible. Just taking my come like it’s nourishment. Fucking Jesus Christ.”

It felt so good to have Harry inside of her after nearly a half hour of slow, sensual torture with his fingers.

And as they both enjoyed, Y/n dripped of him when they went back to the table to join their friends. No one knew but Harry and Y/n and that was half the fun.

So, yeah, sex with Harry was incredible. Exciting. He never let her feel like she was lacking. He loved using tools on her. Tying her up, clamping her tits and her skin, toys, spanking, spreader bars, cuffs… She’d gotten a taste of what he liked and she loved it all.

And she was pretty sure she loved Harry too. He was the sweetest man. Very attentive and gentle, thoughtful, funny, and honest. But of course, when they were in bed he was dominant and loved to put her in her place but that only added to how much she really liked him. The duality of his nature was exciting to her. And she began to feel more comfortable with her body around him. He never once made her feel bad about her size. He clearly loved every bit of her chub.

So after their whirlwind European trip she was back in Illinois at home and trying to paint while Harry was in LA in the studio working on music and other business endeavors he’d started. They talked every night. She thought the distance would be good for her to focus on her work again but it was like she was blank. Her thoughts were only filled with Harry and what he was doing and the articles with her pictures and comments…

One evening, though, she did have a spark of inspiration. She began sketching out her canvas and mixing colors and finally, after nearly a two-month dry spell, put her brush against the canvas and began to paint. It felt good. She was suddenly struck with the need to create. Hours of building a piece with color and space and lines felt like things had felt before she met Harry.

Her fingers were green and her overalls were splattered and soiled from linseed oil and various hues she’d used on her work when her phone rang. Looking up at the clock she realized it was already 9 pm. Which was the time Harry normally called her every night before he went to the studio (it was 7 pm in LA).

She wiped her hands down her clothes and cursed as she rushed to grab the phone before the call went to voicemail.

It was a Facetime call because of course it was.

“Hello?” She rang out and adjusted the screen so she could see Harry and he could see her. She tried smoothing out her hair and wiping the smudges from her face but there was little she could do to repair her current appearance.

“Hi, baby. I miss you! How are you today?” Harry spoke, his face very close to the phone, and then as he stilled himself and the screen became clear she realized he wasn’t at home. A club perhaps. Maybe someone’s house. Definitely not the studio.

“I’m good. Was just painting a bit. Finally got a spark of creativity tonight. How are you? What are you up to right now?”

Harry sighed and grinned widely, she could tell he seemed a tiny bit tipsy, “I’m at a party and I’ve been telling everyone about you. Wish you were here so you could meet everyone. We’re just chilling, had a couple drinks, then I’m going into the studio in about an hour. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

Y/n nodded and smiled. She wasn’t surprised by any of this. He normally got into the studio late and stayed until 3 or 4 am. He was most creative at that time he told her once.

“Sounds fun. Wish I was there too.”

Just then a young woman nudged into Harry’s shoulder and came in to view on the screen, “Y/n!! It’s you! I’ve heard so much about you!”

She was clearly also tipsy. And just as she was about to respond to the mystery woman she watched as the girl threw her arm over Harry’s shoulder and licked her pink tongue up his neck before kissing it. And it wasn’t just a peck of a kiss. It was quite sensual in fact. As if she were trying to give him a hickey.

Harry laughed and pushed at the girl, prying her arm from him and the girl waved her hand at the video just before moving elsewhere.

“Sorry, Jess is clingy tonight,” Harry smiled and licked his lips.

“Oh is she? Has she been trying to give you a hickey all night then?” Y/n couldn’t help the bit of jealousy that coursed through her. She figured at that point she could trust him. He was a big flirt and she knew this about him. He gave off the wrong impression to people all the time. She’d seen women trying to shoot their shot and he would eventually have them back off but many of them never assumed he was in a relationship. She’d even overhead some women (when she was backstage after concerts) bragging about how they kissed Harry or how they thought they had a shot because he'd been staring at them, which turned out to not be true of course. But it didn’t make the sting feel better.

“No. No, of course not, baby. I wouldn’t let her do that. Only you’re allowed to mark me up.”

“But she’s allowed to lick you and kiss you?”

Harry paused and suddenly the screen was blurry as he appeared to moving through the space to somewhere different.

“Wait, hold on, Y/n.” The screen went dark but she could hear shuffling and some voices until the video showed his handsome face again but now he was outside.

“Please, baby. That was not… she’s been flirting with me a little but it’s all in fun. She’s just a friend. I would never do anything to ruin what you and I have. You know that. God, I wish you were closer so I could tell you in person and see you after the studio. Wake up to you, make love to you…” he trailed off as he spoke but kept his eyes on the screen, his face set in defeat.

“I know how you are, Harry. So I get it. But doing that right in front of me? Kind of tacky. Was she trying to make me jealous? If so, I’d say she’s not a friend.”

Harry groaned and leaned his back to a bench and nodded, “I’ll stay away from Jess. She’s just been finding me all night. I mean, I’ve known her for years so… but you’re right. Sorry.”

Y/n nodded and flattened her lips together. She really hated this. Hated feeling jealous when she figured it wasn’t necessary, hated not being with him, hated how famous he was and how everyone wanted him…

After his call with Y/n, he was careful to dodge Jess. And he hadn’t really been paying much mind to her to be quite honest. Yes, she’d been kind of all over him but he was used to that. Except now he needed to think about his girlfriend and what she might think and how it could be perceived in public. Not that any of the photos from this particular party would come out to the public – it was exclusive and contracts were signed promising privacy and respect of others.

Jess was a friend of Tommy’s and she was often invited to the parties like this and so Harry had gotten to know her over the years. She was always flirty but the question that Y/n brought up was valid. Was Jess trying to make Y/n jealous? It was inappropriate for her to kiss his neck like that when he thought about it with a clear head. Even if he wasn’t on the phone with his girlfriend, that was too intimate of a gesture to be innocent. He couldn’t allow things like that anymore. Not if he wanted to keep Y/n happy. And he didn’t want those kinds of intimate touches from anyone else these days. He missed his girlfriend.

His studio session was productive. He got a lot of writing done and set some vocals down for recording too. But he was still thinking about Y/n. Thinking about how they got off the phone and he’d apologized and she said she was fine but he knew she might not really be. They were too far apart and the distance was a problem. Harry was used to some distance in relationships. It was part of the package that he came with. But he hated it with Y/n more than ever.

He was in love with her. Deeply and madly. In fact many of the songs he started to write after meeting her had something to do with her in one way or another. He couldn’t get her off his mind. He’d dated around and had a couple of serious relationships in the past, but no one left a mark on his heart like Y/n had.

.           .           .

“I’m feeling like I need her with me all the time. But when I offered to fly her out and have her stay here with me in LA she said she thought the distance would be good. I’m going crazy, Pat. I don’t know if she is starting to think about breaking up with me or what. I don’t want her to leave me. But she’s been so aloof lately.”

Pat shifted her leg to cross over her opposite and listened. The man wouldn’t stop talking about Y/n. Every one of their sessions had been dominated by discussions about his new relationship. Harry was sensitive deep down. He had his shit together and he was many times nonchalant about dating and matters of the heart in public, but Pat knew the truth. He was sweet and his heart was delicate.

“Just let her sus everything, Harry. You can’t push her and you know that. She’s probably going through some growing pains with you. You’re uber-famous and everyone loves you and to her, it probably feels like she’s just your girlfriend who gets a lot of mean things printed about her. It’s very likely overwhelming. Maybe she’s trying to get her head on straight and figure out what’s best for her.”

“But what if she learns that she’s better off without me?”

Pat chuckled, “What if she does? Would you still want to force her to be with you?”

Harry sighed deeply and frowned, “I guess I wouldn’t want to make her do anything she didn’t like. But that’s the thing. I know she and I have something special. When we’re together it’s like everything just makes sense. I don’t want her to let all the awful things people make up about her be how she makes her decision. Because what she and I have is incredible.”

“But you’re seeing this from your point of view. Not hers. Give her space if she needs it. Keep open communication but let her decide what she can handle.”

He didn’t like the idea that Y/n would decide he wasn’t worth it. He’d finally found the one he thought was his soulmate. The one he loved and wanted to be with for the rest of time, but now she was stepping back. Putting more space between them than he liked.

And when he offered to come to her she declined that suggestion as well. Stating it would be better to be apart for a bit. Which indicated to Harry she was done or at least considering that idea. But he couldn’t understand it! How could she be done with him? He was so far from done with her. He’d never want to be “done” with her. He wanted to marry her, have babies with her, take her with him everywhere, curl into her body, and let his skin sink into hers for all eternity.

He partly blamed the night he talked to her when Jess made her unfortunate appearance and partly the fans. Harry loved his fans. He enjoyed interacting with them most of the time. He loved the attention and the enthusiasm they gave him. He loved creating for them. But they were the ultimate cock block if there ever was one. Every relationship he’d tried to maintain while being famous had, in the end, been affected deeply by his fans. Social media was brutal as it was, but when fans got ahold of the articles and posted pictures and got “involved” it only led to awful things. Many times social media stirred the pot but the fans kept the lies and the assumptions (conspiracy theories even) flying and going on for longer than it was necessary. But it’s not like he could just drop his fans. They were what his empire was built on. He wouldn’t be doing what he was doing without them. It was all a balancing act.

“I think I’m gonna go see her. Just to talk face-to-face. I can’t go on not knowing what’s really happening and doing it over the phone is not giving me the whole picture.”

“Harry… I think it would be wise to keep her wishes in mind. You are a convincing and charismatic man and so for you to go to her in person could interrupt her rational critique. You could just be doing more harm to the relationship this way. It would be a hindrance more than anything. You might just be prolonging the inevitable and don’t you think it’s better to let things take their course naturally? You don’t always have to make all the moves and sway the outcome. This isn’t a business. This is love and relationship stuff. It doesn’t follow the same rules.”

.           .           .

Y/n had been feeling pretty good. Her mind was clear and her inspiration was at an all-time high. It had been a month since she’d seen Harry in person but they still spoke almost every night. She still loved him. She missed him, but the time apart felt necessary. Felt like she could grasp reality again.

But one thing was certain with the distance. It was that she couldn’t take not seeing him and touching him. She was thriving, but she was beginning to miss him more than she thought she would. Instead of getting easier, it got harder. Her nights would be spent thinking of him, what it would be like living with him, kissing him, marriage, babies… But she wasn’t sure if he was feeling like they were headed in that direction. Because if he didn’t feel like any of that was in their future then the relationship should be stopped. It couldn’t continue to jog along on the same path that it had been. They needed to progress and she needed to know he was committed to her and that he felt the same way. But as it was, their relationship was very good, it just wasn’t the kind of relationship that felt like it could move beyond what it was. She needed to tell him and be honest about what she wanted. Marriage, babies, 100% commitment… But what would happen once she told him all of this? Would he run for the hills? It could very well be the end of them.

.           .           .

She had insisted that he not come to the gallery where her work was displayed. It was in New York City and he begged to come. He told her he would take some time off before the next leg of his tour began. Told her that he had a beautiful spot he always stayed at and she could be with him and he’d take her out to his favorite restaurant in the city… but she said no. And Pat told him to listen to her.

Which was hard for him. Harry didn’t like being told no, and normally, no didn’t matter much (of course depending on the situation). Normally, he’d just go anyway and surprise her and dote on her, and in his mind, she’d be so happy and they’d have amazing sex and things would go back to how they were before she pushed for distance. But that’s not how it went.

Instead, she had a weekend in New York City without him. They spoke every night and she told him everything and he pleaded with her some more to let him come to her but she still said no.

On Sunday when they got off the phone Harry was beside himself. She had been too busy to really talk. She was getting on a flight to go back home so he understood why but that didn’t mean he was okay. He cried. He felt his heart drop and felt her slip away. She didn’t want to see him, she didn’t want his support, and she wouldn’t go to see him either… so what was left?

He’d been good and paying attention to, heeding Pat’s advice. He knew she was right. He knew he couldn’t force her hand in this. But God did it hurt. If only she’d let him visit her she’d see how good they were together. Nothing else mattered.

But he needed to know what she wanted. Because it didn’t feel like she wanted the same thing. They needed to talk, face-to-face, and he needed her to be direct. To rip off the band-aid once and for all. Then he could begin to heal and try to get over her.

When she called him the following day it was unexpected because it was much earlier than they usually had their calls and it was just a call, not a Facetime chat.

“Hi. How are you?”

Harry had had a lump in his throat for the last few days with his thoughts about her. About how she was going to end it. About how she didn’t really want to put in the effort to be with him. That he wasn’t worth it. That his fame and his fans were too much.

“I’m good. You’re calling a bit early. What’s going on?”

“I just had some really good news! A curator bought ten of my paintings and will be hosting an exhibit at David Kordansky and I’ve been invited to go as a guest of honor of sorts, amongst the other artists! It’s going to be all these big names. Oh my god, I’m so excited!”

Harry smiled widely, “Baby, I’m so proud of you. When is the exhibit?”

“It’s next weekend! And you know David Kordansky, right?”

“Uh… no. Sorry. Should I?”

Y/n giggled into the phone, “Oh… it’s just one of the biggest and most popular galleries in Los Angeles.”

Harry’s eyes went wide, “Here? You’re coming here?”

“Yes! God, I’m so excited! You’re the first person I’ve told and I just got the news right before calling you. So, I’m still processing it all. But yeah! And a bonus is that maybe you can come! If you want. If you can!”

“Absolutely. I’ll tell everyone I’m booked next weekend. Spending it with my girl.”

She sighed into the receiver with a big grin on her face, “I can’t wait to see you, Harry.”

.           .           .

Y/n was properly nervous. She had been trying to keep her distance from Harry but it had sort of backfired. She wanted to feel out the situation without his influencing nature and his hot body, and those pink lips pecking at her, his deep voice luring her to see it his way. The longer she was away the more she realized that she could barely breathe without him. She was so far gone for the guy that the distance only made her ache. Yes, she got a bit of her creative spark back, but she felt like that was more of an internal issue than it was to do with Harry.

But her nerves weren’t because she was going to see him after over a month. The nerves were because she needed to confront him with her real feelings and find out if he was on the same page. She had to know once and for all what he wanted. And if any of her ideas of where the relationship should head weren’t on Harry’s radar, well, it had to be over. They couldn’t continue like they were. It was perpetual limbo. Purgatory. She loved him and if she were younger with more time to spare she’d enjoy traveling with Harry and just having fun without expectation of where their final destination would land them. But as it was, she wanted to start having babies in the next few years. And if Harry didn’t then she’d need to start over and begin dating around. And that takes time. So she needed to get a move on. Find someone that wanted the same things she did. If that wasn’t Harry.

She had planned for the worst. All the scenarios in her mind led to them breaking up. She couldn’t imagine that Harry would be willing to settle down with her. He had the whole world at his fingertips. And she was just a girl from the Midwest. She really didn’t imagine that they had much more left to pick at. The pages stopped turning. The well had run dry. It was fun while it lasted.

Harry had his driver take him to the airport to pick her up. She told Harry she could just take a taxi but he didn’t want to miss a single moment with her. Wanted to see her the second she arrived in LA. And he was there. Waiting for her just as he said he would.

He scooped her into his arms and felt tears prick at his eyes, “Oh my god. Y/n… I missed you so much.”

She felt her heart swell and lurch with his arms around her and his lips on her forehead. Right in front of everyone in the airport. Photos were snapped and Harry didn’t care. He looked down at her and she noticed his eyes were glossy, “Harry…” she thumbed at his cheek, “Are you okay?”

Harry sniffed and the tip of his nose was red as he nodded, “I am now.”

She’d been to his house before they went away to Europe. They spent two days having sex and just staying in enjoying one another. Those two days were her favorite memories with Harry. Not that she hadn’t absolutely enjoyed everything else they’d done together and where they spent their time but there was something really special about being in his lovely home doing nothing with him and eating some of the best food she’d ever had (a combination of Harry’s cooking, delivery from some of the best restaurants in LA, and leftovers from a fancy catered party that Harry skipped but had requested two large bags full of yummies dropped off for them).

And the moment Harry had her in his house this time around, they were tearing clothes off and making love on his big bed. Harry didn’t bother with the clamps or ties or the belt this time. He just wanted her. Wanted to show her himself and how much he loved her. In fact, he planned on telling her he loved her soon. He needed her to know how he felt.

And the irony of it all was that Y/n was thinking the same thing. She wanted to tell him how she felt. He needed to know the truth and she needed to know where he stood. But they were both hesitating and it didn’t come out quite the way they intended.

“I think we should talk a little, Harry. I’ve had something on my mind for a bit. It’s… kind of important.”

They were both still naked lying on his bed when she blurted it out. Harry felt his stomach drop. He’d been constantly on edge that she was going to break up with him and he didn’t know if his heart could handle it.

So instead of talking he sat up quickly and got off the bed, “Yeah. Yeah. Let’s talk. Um, I need to take a shower first… and then uh… we can talk. Yeah.”

Harry cried in the shower. Preparing himself for the worst. Trying to get his emotions out and let his body soak in the warm water and calming scent of his shampoo. He was a mess. And he assumed it was over.

And to Y/n, him hopping out of bed like that and running off when she said they should talk, that move was his answer. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to hear her truth. He had no intention of being committed or serious with her. He only wanted sex and fun. And that was great, but she was closing in on 30 and it was time to settle down and find love. And it was clear to her now, that Harry didn’t want that. Or at least not in the way she did.

She paced in his bedroom for a bit after dressing herself but when he was still showering, twenty minutes later she went downstairs and paced in his living room. She saw a bouquet of flowers near the front door at the table with a card in it and she automatically plucked the card out to read. It hadn’t occurred to her that she would be reading anything that could upset her. But she was caught off guard by the message.

“Let’s get dinner tonight, H. I miss you endlessly. Love – O”

She flipped the card over and there was nothing on the back except the name of the florist. No date anywhere. She didn’t know when these were delivered or if he’d had dinner with his ex. Her heart sank and her stomach felt heavy.

She slowly made her way back up the stairs and realized the shower was off. Harry was done. She found him standing on his balcony looking out over his garden. He hadn’t even bothered to find her. To see what she wanted to talk about that she said was important. He clearly didn’t care.

He took a 35-minute shower and then went out to chill on his balcony.

She considered just leaving without a word. Just calling an Uber and leaving for good. Getting a hotel room and forgetting about it all.

But now she was pissed.

She opened the balcony door and Harry was startled when he heard her approaching.

She laughed as she shook her head, “Forget I was even here huh?”

Harry scrunched his brows and shook his head but before he could respond she continued, “That’s okay. I get it. You and I aren’t on the same page. You’re having fun and you’re free and getting invited out to dinner with your ex, and-“

“Wait! What? I don’t-“

Y/n put her hand up, “You heard me. It’s okay. We never made any sort of promises or real commitments. Never said we’d wind up married or together in the end. You’re at your best and you deserve fame and fun and freedom. I’m only holding you back.”

Harry put his hands on her shoulders and shook his head, “No. Y/n… this was what I was worried about that you were-”

“That I want a real relationship? I’m almost 30. I can’t be playing around and traveling the world when I don’t know what you even want. And you just made it clear how disinterested in my concerns you really are-“

“Y/n. Please. What are you-“

“Stop. All you do is tell me what I should think and what I should do. You’re too… you pressure me to see things your way and you never listen. So now you listen to me.” She swallowed to gain her composure and looked up at him squarely so he understood how serious she was, “I can see now clearly, you have no interest in making a family with me. In being with me. You’re just having some fun. And that’s okay. But our fun has come to an end. I can’t go on like this anymore. I need to find someone who wants what I want. Someone who isn’t stuck on their ex and someone who will tell the whole world about me and not pretend that I’m just someone you hang out with.”

Harry shifted on his feet. He hadn’t expected this. In all the scenarios he ran in his mind she was breaking up with him and she didn’t want to be with him and he wasn’t worth it. But she was saying she wanted commitment. He smiled and opened his mouth but Y/n scoffed.

“See? You’re not even taking this seriously! Here I am telling you I’m breaking up with you and you’re smiling! You couldn’t give a shit!”

Harry’s smile fell from his face, “No I was… You’re breaking up with me? Y/n please-“

She pushed him off of her and backed away, “Go and enjoy dinner with Olivia or whoever. I’m out of here.”

Harry ran after her, “No! You can’t leave me! Please that’s not what happened. I didn’t even see her. And if you’d just listen-“

Y/n stomped her foot and turned to face the tall man. She pointed her finger at this chest, “I’m done listening. We’re done. You broke my heart.”

Harry shook his head and followed behind Y/n the whole way to the front door, pleading with her to stop so they could talk but she continued to cut him off.

“Stop! You don’t get to push me into making a decision anymore. It’s over.”

She gathered up her bags and shakily pulled her phone out to bring up her Uber app to call for a car. She was thankful all of her bags were still near the front door.

She rushed out of the house and Harry felt like he was going mad. She wouldn’t let him talk and explain and tell her that he wanted what she wanted. Every time his mouth opened she yelled for him to stop. Screamed even. Had he been so insufferable that this was how she reacted to him?

So he watched with tears in his eyes and his heart in his hands as she loaded her things into the Uber and left him standing at his gate.

He didn’t know what he would do. What could he do? He needed to let her cool off and then he’d go to her and have a conversation. He’d make her see that they’d been on the same page all along.

He called Mitch to get advice.

Mitch asked him why he hadn’t called Pat instead but Harry insisted his best friend would give him the best and most brutal advice, while also supporting him and wishing him luck. Which is actually what happened.

“Go and surprise her at the gallery. Do something ridiculously dramatic and then declare your love for her to everyone in the room. Something like that. I don’t know man. I think you two will work it out. You’re so good together. I think she just needed some time, ya know.”

Harry sighed, “Pat’s going to hate that. But I’ve got to do it, though, right? Do something absolutely nuts to get her to listen to me.”

.           .           .

Y/n had the worst, absolutely the most horrible, awful evening. She bawled her eyes out and barely slept. Harry hadn’t even tried reaching out to her. Not that she really wanted that. She half expected it. But it only solidified everything to her. She imagined he probably slept like a baby.

The following day was the exhibit. She was not prepared. Not mentally anyway. Her tears had barely dried by the time she was entering the gallery. She put on a happy face and forced herself to talk and smile. But she only felt the dread of what had happened the day before.

The curator greeted her, bringing a glass of champagne for her to sip, “I’m amazed by your work. I think your collection fits in so nicely here. But you know I’m holding on to all your pieces until one day someone offers me a million each for them,” he laughed and Y/n smiled. She doubted that would ever happen.

The evening should have been amazing. She was meant to have Harry with her and it was supposed to be a big night for her. Something that could potentially change the trajectory of her career. But Y/n wasn’t happy. Her exciting moment was clouded by thoughts of Harry and how she loved him but now it was over.

Through the doorway opposite the entrance was a small bar area. Guests could go get their drinks and then head back into the gallery. But there were a few bar tables and some stools. Y/n had been eyeing it all night. A moment to get away and sit by herself for a while.

The room was darker and quieter, even though it was open to the main gallery. The small high-top tables had four tall, cushioned stools around each. The only person in the bar was the bartender.

“Hi. Can I have a glass of chardonnay?” Y/n leaned into the bar and her eyes settled over the array of colorful bottles lined up behind the young lady who stood at the bar.

The young woman smiled, “Sure. Anything in particular? Would you like to see what I’ve got?”

“Not really. This is going to sound so bad, but just the cheapest one.”

Y/n dug into her small clutch to pull out her phone card and then waited as the young lady poured a glass of Y/n’s cheap glass of wine.

“Your art is excellent. I’m a big fan.” The woman looked over her shoulder as she plumbed the top of the bottle with the cork and placed it back into the small fridge below the counter.

“You know my work?” It was not expected. She didn’t think the bartender would know the artists by their faces alone.

“Yes! Of course. I usually get to know who the artists are that have their pieces here. Yours is outstanding.”

She felt her face get warm from the odd feeling she always got when someone loved her work and recognized her. She still hadn’t gotten used to that feeling yet but she enjoyed it nonetheless.

When she took the glass she thanked the lady for the wine, “And, thank you for the kind words too. That means a lot to me.”

She took a deep breath and sipped her wine in the empty space as she attempted to let her bad mood dissolve. She knew it was impossible to let it go completely. Her wound was so fresh. She’d just gotten her heart broken and that would take some time to grapple with. But she knew she could be okay because she’d dealt with and come through the worst kind of tragic loss anyone can imagine. Losing Robert devastated her. For a very long time. She’d only gotten to a place where she felt she was ready to find love again. And her short time with Harry was nothing in comparison to what she’d suffered. So yeah, she’d been through far worse. She’d be okay.

The music that played in the small space was slow and the tune sounded a lot like an old Foo Fighters song. But it was all instrumental and she couldn’t be sure. She pulled out her cell phone and decided to text her sister. Catch up a bit. Feel something sweet and nostalgic to get her mind off of her sorrows.

She smiled when her sister texted back with a picture of the kids.

She looked up and paused to listen closely to the music playing again. Yeah. It was an instrumental version - definitely Foo Fighters. Everlong. That was the song! She snapped her fingers and smiled again as he looked back at the picture of her nieces.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Y/n. This is for you.” The bartender laid an envelope down on the table. It had her name written on it.

This felt very reminiscent of-

She looked around the room and out into the gallery, where people fitted in lovely outfits and amazing hairstyles milled about, in search of the one person that might have had something to do with this.

She looked back down at the envelope and toward the young lady who had already gone back behind the bar, “Who gave this to you?” She was hesitant to open it.

“Ms. Adams. The gallery’s director. She said it was from a very special guest.”

A very special guest.

She wasted no more time in ripping the top of the envelope open knowing already who it was from.

She braced herself for what she might read on the folded paper inside. Her heart walloped in her chest and she felt her throat go dry as she carefully pulled the paper out and unfolded it.

I’m sorry for the way things happened yesterday. I wanted to tell you so much more. I need you in my life, Y/n. Take a drink in the director’s office with me? Please? - H

She swallowed thickly and placed the paper down on the lacquered wood. The words stared up at her. Very reminiscent of that night. Their first night together.

She decided to take a moment. Finish her glass of wine and find her resolve. She’d see him. Because of course, she would. She’d fallen for the guy and perhaps closure would be good. For both of them. She tried not to get her hopes up.

But even with the idea that she wouldn’t get her hopes up, from the very base of her spine, small bursts of hope began spreading over her back, warming her up and causing the edge of her lip to flick upward the tiniest bit.

She had to stop. She couldn’t allow the butterflies and the warmth to cover her chest. This wasn’t an olive branch. This wasn’t hope. But that was what her body was feeling, the way it reacted after reading his words.

Stop.

She read the note again and the right side of her mouth quirked but she stifled the smile that tried breaking out over her features.

“Uh, hi!” She scooted off her stool and waved at the bartender, “Do you know where the director’s office is by chance?” The young woman smiled, “Follow me, Ms. Y/n.”

Y/n followed behind the young woman to a doorway at the far end of the room and into a hallway. Framed prints were hung along the wall and the floor was dark wood while the walls were a light cream. A few doors were passed, the bathrooms, a numbered room, until finally, they reached the director’s office.

The woman knocked before turning the knob to open the door and stood back, “Here you are.” She gestured at the open door.

“Thank you.” Y/n wavered in her movements wondering if this was the right thing. Should she entertain this idea? Of course, she was going to entertain this idea, but part of her wanted to keep her tough exterior and remain firm in her decision.

Slowly pushing the door further open, she stepped into the threshold and was met with a quaint office-sized room. The same dark wood floors sprawled below her feet, but the very first thing her eyes landed on was that of Harry holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a soft smile.  

She closed the door behind her and stepped in a couple of feet. He was in a well-fitted navy suit and he looked tired. But he was handsome.

The thought quickly hit her. How did he get in here? Who let him use the director’s office? But then, as he ran his ringed fingers through his hair and she saw remnants of chipped nail polish she was reminded of who he was. Not just her lover or her ex. But he was Harry. Everyone knew him or knew of him. Of course, he was allowed in the director’s office.

“Hi, Y/n,” Harry spoke reticently as he held out the bouquet to her.

He wasn’t sure she’d come to him or that she’d want to even talk to him. And he thought about making a grand gesture. Take over the audio system and declare his love publicly before everyone as he walked out into the crowd toward her. Make a scene. Make her listen. Have everyone rooting for them. Rooting for him.

But that wasn’t right. That would have been too pushy. Not fair. This night was about her. If he’d gone about it the way he wanted it would have had all eyes on him.

He knew, though, that he needed to be here with her. To tell her how he really felt and what he wanted and then if she still wanted that with him, still wanted to be with him, they could end the night the way it was meant to be ended. Together.

“Hi, Harry,” Y/n spoke softly, keeping her eyes on his eyes as she took the lovely bouquet full of pink peonies and soft cream roses.

Harry gestured toward the brown Midcentury style couch, “Will you sit with me? I won’t take up much of your time if you don’t want. I just wanted to say some things.”

The couch was large enough for just two people. Harry was glad she had to sit so close to him. He wanted to eat her up she looked so pretty and so sweet. And just the fact that she’d come to him to entertain a conversation had him soaring.

Placing the bouquet down on the glass coffee table, Y/n noticed the bottle of wine and two glasses as he pointed, “Would you like a glass?”

Nodding her head, Harry pulled the cork out and poured her a bit of the red wine. She felt like she should say no just for the fact that she’d only just finished a glass of white wine and surely it would make the red wine taste odd. But ultimately she figured she could use another glass of wine.

“Yesterday I was working up the courage to tell you how I want to be with you for good,” Harry said as he leaned his back into the cushion behind him with his own glass of wine, “Wanted to tell you how serious I am about you. But I thought you were planning on breaking up with me so I needed a minute to figure out how I was going to convince you to stay.”

Y/n’s eyes bounced over his features as she cinched her brows inward. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had he wanted the same thing she did the whole time?

“And I’m so sorry that it seemed to you like I was putting off a serious conversation with you. That’s my fault. I should have stayed there with you in bed and listened to you right off. Even if it meant potentially having you break up with me,” he licked his lips and sighed, “Instead, I did what I normally do and tried and figure out a way to make something work in my favor. So I paused that moment hoping you’d change your mind, or that I could come up with something. Prolonging it for the sake of just holding on to you a little longer.

“It’s because I’m selfish and I like to control the narrative. But that’s never been fair to you. So, I understand if my apology is no good anymore. I just felt like maybe I can tell you what was really happening in my head yesterday. Because that part, you did have wrong.”

Y/n blinked her eyes and nodded, “Well, then… I guess I’m sorry too. Because it sounds like I might have jumped to conclusions. I just didn’t think you’d want something serious. Long term. But there’s more to it than just that you know?”

Harry frowned and shook his head, “What do you mean?”

Y/n could see how timid Harry had been since the moment she walked into the room with him. She felt the need to help assuage him so she turned her body toward his and pulled his hands into hers before speaking, “I mean that I’m getting older and I think it’s time for me to really settle down. For good. I mean…” she breathed out a nervous laugh, “like, babies, marriage… death. All that. That’s what I mean.”

Harry nodded and raised his brows, “Yeah?”

Y/n grinned as Harry’s thumbs ran along the sides of her hands. The corner of his mouth pulled upward. She could see his swagger return in almost an instant. His eye contact was solid and his dimples carved into his cheeks.

“Well, yeah,” she started to feel flustered by his proximity, the way she could see his pupils roaming over her face and watching her mouth, “I’m not saying we need to get married but like,” she swallowed, “I’d like for us to be serious enough to know that we’d be headed that direction if things are good. And I know you’re super famous and that’s why yesterday I just…”

“I want to be with you. I want it all with you.” Harry bowed his head, finally breaking eye contact and his hands tightened around hers, “I thought you were done with me. I thought you were going to break up with me and that I wasn’t going to be worth all the trouble for you. Because I know this is a lot.”

“No. I just thought you wouldn’t want what I wanted and the way you reacted to me telling you I wanted to talk and how you didn’t come to find me after you were done showering… I felt like you were trying to figure out the best way to break it to me- either that or you were trying to avoid me. I just… Thought the worst.”

She couldn’t have described the way her insides were pulsing and expanding and churning. She’d spent the better half of the day reeling over losing him. Over knowing she might not get to look into his eyes in this way again. Might not see the small freckles on his face again and the way he blushed despite being so sure of himself. But here she was sitting with Harry and in under three minutes everything had changed. If she had just listened yesterday. If he had just listened.

“But so did I. That’s why we’re in this mess. I thought you were breaking up with me and so my behavior made you think the worst.”

Y/n smiled and allowed herself to indulge in his eyes and in the grin he was holding back and the way his fingers felt on hers… Was she just dreaming? Was she just about to wake up and realize it had all been a dream?

“Is it okay if I… ?” He pulled at her gently and slowly wrapped his arms around her and she smelled his familiar cologne. She loved how this felt. Hugging him. Feeling his solid body against hers. She eased into his hold and wrapped her own arms around him.

Harry whispered into her ear, “I should have told you everything yesterday. Let you talk and then we wouldn’t have gotten in this mess. It’s me and you, Y/n. Okay? Me and you. That’s what I want.”

Tears of relief and elated joy broke from her waterline and Harry pulled her in tighter, kissing her temple, “I thought you were done with me. I thought you wanted to break up with me,” the anguish in his voice was not missed. He’d been hurting too.

Harry brushed his palm up and down on her back slowly and pressed his lips to the top of her head, “God I was so worried this was it for us. Fuck. I’m not letting you leave me again like you did. I can’t be away from you like that, Y/n.”

Pulling her head back to look up at him she did see the glisten in his eyes from the start of tears. She knew hers matched. It all felt like a dream. But just in case it was real she needed to speak the words. Sliding her hands upward and cupping his face she was nearly trembling from relief and excitement, “I love you, Harry.”

Harry closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into hers, clutching her lovely dress tightly, “God, I love you, Y/n.”

.           .           .

Stepping into the gallery with all the other people in the room and having Harry by her side felt surreal. Everyone was watching them. She was okay to share this night with him. There was no way around it that people wouldn’t be interested in her because of her boyfriend. She figured that would be something she’d just have to get used to.

Harry squeezed her hand tight and she looked up at him. He looked proud. So important with a big, pleased smile on his lips as he looked down at her.

“You realize you’re coming back home with me after this. Right? And I’m never letting you leave me again.”

Harry had grown a lot as an individual. He still had moments where he could be pushy and use his charm to get the things he wanted, but he figured some things just couldn’t be totally trained out of him. He allowed Y/n to make her own choices. He gave her space when she needed but she came back to him in the end. He wanted her to be his and everything they’d done that had gotten them to where they were currently had worked out. So Harry had no regrets about coming to her on this night.

“Of course, I’m coming home with you. I’d be offended if you assumed otherwise,” she smirked happily. “And I wouldn’t dream of leaving you again.”

Harry couldn’t wait to get her home and make love to her. Seal it all together in finality. He knew that tonight was just the beginning for them.

And as if they could both read one another’s minds they smiled and paused together in time. Everything had finally come together for them. At last.

A/N: This is the last part of this series! Would love your feedback!

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[dr3c0mix]

DRE DRE OMG DRE!:O

I JUST HAB THE GREATEST IDEA OF ALL TIME DRE!

So, so I was thinking at like 1:33 am cuz ye, and I thought,

WHAT IF THE READER, HAD LIKE, A DISABILITY , AND IT CAUSED THEM TO LIKE NOT BE ABLE TO MOVE AROUND MUCH, AND AND THEY FEEL USELESS, SO THEYRE LOVER COMES IN, AND IS LIKE” u know ily right?” OUT OF NO WHERE, AND IT MAKES THEIR DAY???

I mean you dnt have 2, but it would still be like so cool:3

*me running at Usain Bolt speed in order to get away from sleep cuz insomnia helps brain go brr*

But have to sleep so go night night>:(

Yanderes x Disabled!Reader w/ a Mobility Disability

My OCs x Disabled!GN Reader

yall have no idea how long I've wanted to write this *sobbing*

CW: Adrian is stupid and ignorant a little, mentioned kidnapping themes, stalking, theyre a little bit too caring for you..

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Adrian doesn't use your disability to make fun of you, he's an asshole not a monster. But he is painfully ignorant of things when it comes to people with disabilities. Prepare to be asked a lot of shallow and sort of weird questions, not because he's judging you, but because he wants to learn more about you and maybe learn how to take care of you once you two get married and live together. He'd ask in random times "So why do you use a wheelchair?" "Can you piss correctly?" and a plethora of other things. If you use a wheelchair, he'd insist, no, demand that he'd push for you, he doesn't give a real reason for it other than "Your arms will get tired." If you're an amputee, he'd secretly save and steal money in order to buy you prosthetics if you ever showed your desire for one to him. He honestly doesn't care if you feel useless, you're his and he loves you and no matter what you think, he will always be there for you. "Are you fucking kidding me? You went to the library all by yourself yesterday! You played with those kids in the playground, and you carried that group presentation in math class! You're not useless, you dumbass, you're amazing!"

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Brandon, despite how ditsy he is, researches a lot about your disability, how to take care of a person with your disability and stuff that could improve your mobility. It's his duty as your boyfriend to give you the best care possible! As much as he loves to take care of you, he knows for sure you're able to do things yourself, he helps you with physical therapy if you ever need it. Being the star player of the lead team has its financial benefits too, so if there's something you found online that could help with your mobility, he's definitely buying it for you immediately!! There are times when you feel insecure about your disability but he's always there to give you lots and lots of reassurance and love! But to be honest, his way of cheering you up sounds more like a pep talk more than comfort, but it's his way of cheering you up :) "Who cares if you're not like other people? You're awesome and never forget that, with or without a disability!"

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Valeth, I shit you not, is taking away your wheelchair, your crutches, your prosthetic limbs, anything you need to move around on your own. He doesn't want you being able to escape his house and tell the authorities about him. Besides, why need those when you have him to carry you around and spoil you rotten with gifts and affection? If you let, him, he'll kiss the parts of your body that are affected by your disability, your legs, your arms, your amputated limbs, he wants to remind you how much he loves you despite your immobility. He'll whisper how much he loves you every night or when you feel sad. "You're perfect my little duckling, so so beautiful..."

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The Horde is keeping you in your bunker 24/7 unless you tell them you want to get out, but even then, they're right by your side the entire time. Bo is in charge with making sure you're never in pain or discomfort, physically and emotionally. "You're so beautiful darlin'..I wouldn't change a thing about your pretty little self~.." Screw rummages around the mall to find anything to help you move around like items from the medical areas. "I found this..uhm..do you like it?" Soda and Ribs don't really understand but they love you either way, regardless of your body. Ribs might steal your prosthetics or crutches though; you have to pry them out of his mouth like a dog that doesn't want to give up a stick.

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Wolfie thinks you're hurt and whines whenever he sees you struggling of sad, he licks the places of your body that are 'hurting'. Even when you reassure him that you're ok, he won't let go, he needs to make sure his little mate is ok! Forget wheelchairs, or crutches or prosthetics, he'll let you ride on his back, anywhere you want! Just give him lots and lots of pets and scratchies, good boy deserves it!

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Dorik is your loyal servant and will help you whenever you need anything. Oh, your wheelchair is folded up and you need help setting it up? Nonsense! He can carry you anywhere you want! Prosthetic limb nowhere to be found? Just stay in bed, he'll take care of it! Found out he's been hiding all your stuff so you depend on him and only him?...nuh uh.. and if you ever feel down, he'll be right there cuddling you and whispering sweet kinda creepy things to you. "You're my little angel, master~ A fragile mortal like you should be cared for with a gentleness of a thousand silks~!"

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Kalva forges high and low for anything that can help you. while he does enjoy keeping you nice and safe in the nest, you need some sunlight! He gives you branches, sticks, rope, anything you need to help you move around even just a little bit. With his nest building abilities, he would make you a prosthetic limb or cane for you. If you're a wheelchair user, he can just lift you up and prop you outside with him while he preens you. He might not know what's wrong but he tries his best to make you feel better. "My mate is so lovely, my lovely lovely mate! So pretty and cute!"

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Jasper can't help but be much more protective of you. He knows you can do stuff on your own, but he thinks as your best friend and future lover he needs to take care of you. He'd gladly be your caretaker if you ever need one, but he beats himself up for not accepting that you know how to handle yourself. Please let him draw and paint on your prosthetics or wheelchair! If you don't want anyone to touch your stuff, that's ok with him, but that won't stop him from making little artworks for you, like tiny paper stars with cute doodles drawn over it. If ever you feel sad, he has a nice cozy room, a weighted blanket, hot chocolate and his cat to comfort you. He's not the type to give pep talks, but he's a good cuddler.. "It's ok to feel sad, baby~..let's just lie down together alright?"

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Silas, Viktor and Garrick pester you every day to just let them turn you. You could be in unbearable pain, and you still refuse to be a vampire??? You could just have a minor limp or amputated leg and they're blowing your disability out of proportion, comparing you to a fragile porcelain doll. Imagine how much better you'll feel when you can no longer feel pain! Or when you have the ability to walk properly! It bugs you, it even makes you feel worse. If they go too far, they quiet down and sulk like sad puppies, whining and begging you to forgive them. They're sorry they took it too far..they just wanted you to be happier and healthier... "We're sorry darling, we just want you safe is all.." "Indeed my dove~ but we love you either way~!" "So cute and so fragile~! I don't know what's up with those two, but I wouldn't change a thing baby~!"

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Baron is always there for you, you dont even need your wheelchair or crutches anymore with how much he takes care of your needs. He says it's all part of his job but you don't really think making adorable little snacks for you is part of it.. looking at the little orange slices shaped like snails and cookies decorated to look like cats on your tray, you wonder if his doting is really his duty or if he just really wanted to take care of you.. Apart from that, he often watches as you look in the mirror and just frown. He gets up and checks how you're feeling as if a switch activated in his brain when he saw your sweet sad eyes. He can't bear seeing you so insecure when you're the most amazing person he's ever met.. "Boss, I don't care what you or others think, you are wonderful and worth regardless of your disability. In fact, it makes you even more admirable.."

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Caspian can relate to immobility. Out of water, he's more or less paralyzed from the waist down because of the weight of his tail, so you two hang out and joke about it together. He helps you cope by giving you someone to see yourself in. He daydreams about one day using some kind of magic to give you a fish tail so you can live in the ocean together like a happy couple. Sometimes he brings you to the shore of the cave you live in so you can soak your feet in the water while he sings for you. "My beautiful treasure~ your body does not define you. I see your soul, your heart, and it is beautiful~.."

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Hallow just sees it as an excuse to keep you locked up. He baby-proofs everything so you don't accidentally bump into something and get hurt. Yes, he takes away your wheelchair or prosthetics when you disobey him. He's a menace but he makes up for it by caring so much for you, you don't even have to lift a finger. If you're good, he gives your stuff back, all of them decorated with stickers and doodles all over it, mostly hearts and flowers. If ever you feel insecure, he coils around you in a warm hug and kisses you all over, you're not getting out until he hears a giggle come out of you. "My doll~ my darling~ my love~ my pretty little toy~ so cute~ so small~ your body is perfect~ just the way it is~!"

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Ashvan is on high alert 24/7, what if you get hurt? Or someone knocks you over and you can't get up? What if you can't move in a dangerous situation??? Stairs?!?!? He's absolutely panicking over you, but you being a cleric, you can simply use magic to get around. He knows full well that you can look after yourself but he can't help but linger around wherever you are to make sure you're ok, especially in fights. He's never far from you, acting like your defense as you heal the other members of the clan. He may or may not watch you sleep. Just being there for you! On days when you're not so confident in your abilities, he comes up to you with flowers he picked so he could hopefully make you smile again. "H-hi there! u-uhm..I-I picked these for you! heheh..uhm..g-good job during that battle! You were uhm..amazing..~"

#yandere #yandere x gn reader #male yandere #oc yandere #yandere x male reader #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere monster #yandere writing #soft yandere #werewolf x reader #x reader #fem reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #x female reader #male reader #bully x reader #werewolf x human #demon x human #monster x human #teratophillia #terat0philliac #terato #oc x reader #clown husbandry #clown oc #monster

[jasonsknight3]

I decided to write about one of my favorite Jason's. Arkham knight Jason. These are just some thoughts I have.

Jason smokes. A lot would be an understatement. It's almost constant. The few times he isn't smoking is when he is in the mask (obviously) or in a non-smoking area. Does he know its bad for him? YES,it's a struggle. Does he think about quitting? Yes. However, it feels good. It relaxes him. His near constant tense body gets a break when he smokes.

AK Jason has serious sleep issues. Between the sleepless nights in Arkham and not even knowing when the night has begun or ended has messed him up. All the nights he’s been doing morally grey vigilante work. He doesn’t exactly care anymore either but that’s because he doesn’t necessarily care about himself too much anymore.

He keeps to himself for the most part. When he’s out and about he doesn’t say much. Only speak if necessary. Most of the time he’s thinking. Always thinking. Mowing over the choices, his life, how it could be different.

He. Is. Violent. He hasn’t really dealt with the trauma. He is still burning with hate. Sure he switched sides as the morally grey Redhood but he still feels the blackness. He is violent when he’s angry. Sometimes may hurt you. Now whether he means to or not is a different story. He may not even know himself if he meant to.

AK Jason has lost a major amount of hearing in his left ear due to his time in Arkham. All the beatings, all the hits to the side of his head. It was inevitable really. He will use a hearing aid when he’s in civilian attire but not as he’s alter because the mask has built in hearing enhancement. In his right ear however luckily he only lost 5% of his hearing.

Jason twitches like crazy. It’s usually what he would call phantom shocks. Being tortured the way he did with the “shock therapy” he probably has nerve damage too. He doesn’t really know but he doesn’t find it a priority to find out.

It takes a sweet heart to break down his walls, a caring woman with soft gentle hands. A woman with patience and time.

He’s not necessarily a physically affectionate man. He’d feel anxiety if you try to touch him in any way. However if and when you get close he will display some sort of physical affection. Holding your pinky, or wrist (never your whole hand though, that feels scary for him. That will come even later.)

Begin with him is a risk. As mentioned in his violent headcanon he may hurt you. He’ll wonder why you’d stay but he’s not necessarily complaining though.

The only creature he will let touch him is his cat. Finley or Finn for short. He is the only think Jason will willingly show love to and let show love back. In a way, Finn is teaching Jason how to be gentle again. How to love.

In his heart of hearts. In the deepest part of himself he is just a man who forgot how to love and how to be loved.

#arkham knight x reader #batfam #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood #redhood #AK Jason #AK Redhood #batman #red robin #tim drake #dick grayson #nightwing #dc robin #roy harper #arkhamverse #arkham knight #harley quinn #dc joker #joker #dc x y/n #dc x you #redhood dc #dcu #dc red robin

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox (3)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mention of sexual abuse, violence, trauma ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned. Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist. Song used in this chapter: Don't Bring Me Down by Electric Light Orchestra.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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From that day on, they both took off their earphones when they stood together at the bus stop. Her presence had apparently stopped being awkward for him and he had become addicted to listening to Kajagoogoo, although he admitted it reluctantly.

"They have a terrible band name, but that bass is fucking awesome. They got really into my head and it's good to listen to them in the background while doing something else at the same time." He muttered, without looking at her, scrolling something on his phone.

She knew this was his way of distracting himself from the stress of the conversation, that he wasn't good at it and pretended to be indifferent, his lips tightened.

Since the whole thing reached the headmaster of the school the matter became very serious and Cregan was not laughing anymore. The headmaster became very concerned about the whole situation and even though it was not the school where the sexual abuse took place, bullying did.

On the corridor cameras, Cregan could be seen knocking her over by propping her up with his leg, as one of his buddies scratched the word 'liar' with his key on her locker.

Although these were not crimes for which you could go to jail, the principal invited her to an interview accompanied by the school psychologist. The headmaster asked her if she wanted someone to accompany her during this talk and she said without thinking: Aemond.

She surprised him when she asked him to go with her to his office, he was the only one to witness it all and she was afraid to be there alone. He just nodded and answered nothing, clicking something on his phone, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

They went there together.

The director approached the matter with understanding and quoted to her what he had heard the day before from Aemond.

"Your colleague told me that he witnessed the incident and that there is video footage of what happened. I also know that Cregan's classmates nag you a lot because they prefer to believe him. The psychologist and I thought that, if you agree, we would give his class some shock therapy and show them the part of the video that shows him hurting you.

Of course, we will only do this if you agree, however, we believe that if Mr Stark loses his credibility, you will regain your composure and be able to focus on your education rather than the unpleasant incidents you continue to face from them. We know that the footage shows nothing of which you would be ashamed, nor of course your exposed body." He concluded, glancing uncertainly at the lady psychologist.

She didn't know what to say, she could feel her heart pounding hard.

"Think it over calmly. It's just a suggestion and you don't have to do it. We want to help you and we know it's hard for you." Said the psychologist in a soft, calm voice.

She looked apprehensively at Aemond, who was staring at her out of the corner of his eye with his lips tightened, himself clearly not sure what he was thinking.

"It's your decision. You don't have to do it. But I think this bugger deserves it. He walks around the school like a king, he thinks you don't have the guts to show it. That you'll be embarrassed when he's the one who should be ashamed of himself." He said lowly, and she thought with pain that he was right.

Why should he spread rumours about her, lie that she wanted this?

"Fine." She mumbled, the headmaster sighed quietly.

"Do you want to be there when we show them this?" He asked lowly, and she shook her head quickly.

"No."

She delivered an excerpt of the video to the director that next day. He and the lady psychologist watched it to make sure that the video would not portray her in a negative light and make matters worse, but what they saw left no illusions.

She knew that the headmaster would go to Cregan's class with the psychologist at their advisory class and throughout the day she felt like she was going to die, her whole body was trembling, she hadn't eaten anything and she was cold.

As she sat during one of the breaks outside the classroom, staring dully at the floor Aemond sat down next to her and sighed, taking out of his pocket her favourite chocolate bar, Milkyway, which he must have bought from the school vending machine. She looked at him gratefully and shook her head.

"Have you eaten anything today?" He asked lowly and she shook her head again, lowering her gaze.

"I won't swallow anything. My stomach has been hurting since this morning."

"Hmm."

They sat side by side like that, their shoulders and knees touching, not speaking until the bell rang announcing that the break was over.

They sat down to their benches, the teacher came in, but she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying, terrified.

Everyone was watching it now.

She covered her face with her hands, thinking that she had made a mistake, that it would get worse.

However, to her surprise, as she walked out of the classroom she was approached by several people from his class who had also thrown unpleasant comments at her earlier, including his buddy, who shouted to her and Aemond at the time whether they were going to go fuck.

They stood for a moment as if they didn't know what to say.

"Hi. We saw the video. I…fuck." Said the boy, scratching his brow with his thumb, pale, embarrassed, horrified. "I…I really believed him. I swear to you I would never have suspected he was capable of such a thing. When I watched you pull away from him and he wouldn't let you go…fuck, a red light should have lit up in my head earlier as he said he was going to fuck you, but I thought, I don't know, that's what you want, that you're into him, not that…"

He stammered, all red, she could see he was barely holding back tears. He shrugged his shoulders.

"And yet I acted like a stupid piece of shit to you. Then, after all of that. I believed my mate, I thought I knew him." He said without looking at her, his other colleagues nodding.

"We're ashamed. He walked around talking about it as if nothing had happened, as if it was just your imagination. He cried in class as the principal came in and said what he was going to show us. I think he realised he was going to lose a lot of friends."

She looked at them all with her heart beating hard, scared and ashamed at the same time, not knowing what she should say to them.

Most of all, however, she felt relieved.

They had finally left her alone.

If she could consider that something good had come out of all this, it was certainly her relationship with Aemond. They only talked on the bus or while waiting for him at the bus stop, usually about school, teachers, homework, or music.

He played her songs on his earphones when she asked him if he could recommend something new to her, however, he always listened to Kajagoogoo with her on the way to school.

She liked the fact that this had already become their routine, something they shared, proof that they had established a bond, this time unforced, desired from both sides.

She found to her surprise that he was actually a very sensitive, calm man.

She really liked him.

Helaena was very concerned about all that had happened, and wrote to her often to find out how she was feeling. She didn't want to impose on her and didn't visit her at home.

However, one day she asked if she would like to stay with her for the night and sleep in her room, talk about everything that was on her mind and then watch Shrek together or another cartoon they loved as children.

She thought it was a good idea.

She arrived at the appointed time in the evening, Alicent opened the door, smiling warmly and embracing her.

Since the situation with Cregan it seemed that their families had become closer, her parents were extremely grateful to Aemond for what he had done and always greeted him when they saw him on the street or in the shop, embarrassing him.

She saw Helaena run out from over her shoulder and wave to her, holding two bags of their favourite Chips and a carton of orange juice.

Walking towards the stairs she swallowed loudly as she saw the exit to the garden, feeling an unpleasant tightening in her pit and a cold sweat on her back.

She squealed when suddenly Vhagar ran out at them from upstairs, wagging her tail and barking, happy that they had a visitor, almost knocking her over.

"Vhagar!" She heard his impatient, low voice. "Come back here! Immediately."

Vhagar ran up to him, looking at him with her big, pleading black eyes, and he sighed as he stroked her fur. She smiled at him as she passed him, they threw each other a brief, shy 'hi' before she disappeared with Helaena into her room.

Although she didn't want to at first, she felt she had to get it out of her, that she couldn't take it anymore, that it was poisoning her from the inside.

They were both sitting in their pyjamas, T-shirts and shorts on her carpet, a bowl full of crisps and two glasses full of juice between them.

"At first when he touched my thigh I thought − gee, maybe he really likes me that much that he can't stop, I don't know. I felt, I sensed something was wrong and I'm mad that I didn't push him away then! I went outside with him because I thought maybe I don't know, he wants to sit with me in an embrace, stroke me, hold my hand, kiss me. And when he slipped his hand under my dress, when he squeezed me, when he wouldn't let me move or pull away I felt…" She stammered, feeling her voice break, her throat tighten, tears gather in her eyes.

"…God, I just felt that I was very afraid of him, that it was very bad and terrible, that I didn't want it, that he was hurting me, that it was such a bad touch, I don't know how to describe it." She mumbled, Helaena looking at her with her lips slightly parted, her eyebrows arched in pain, her light hair tied up in a bun.

"It felt like I couldn't breathe, it felt like I wanted to scream, like someone was skinning me, it's this feeling of sudden panic, but also something else, like deep in your lower abdomen, this all-consuming fear and terror, like the air is stuck in your throat and you can't catch your breath." She muttered quickly, shaking her head, refusing to let the tears flow, her lips tightening.

"I don't know how he can think it's nothing. To live with the fact that I asked him to stop and he didn't." She shrugged her shoulders, Helaena got up and sat beside her, embracing her, letting her lie on her thighs.

She burst into tears when she started to stroke her head, when she told her that it wasn't her fault and that no one blamed her, that just because she hadn't pushed him away at first didn't mean he had the right to do what he did, that he had done it deliberately and premeditatedly, that no meant no.

She shuddered and lifted her gaze when she heard movement near her room, as if someone had moved out of place, and then the quiet sound of a door opening and closing.

Was he listening to what she was talking about? Was he eavesdropping on them?

She pressed her lips together, lowering her head, feeling ashamed.

She said she would go to the toilet to bring herself to order, but in fact she went to his door, hearing from it the song he had shown her a few days before, 'Don't Bring Me Down' played by the Electric Light Orchestra.

She knocked loudly and heard that after a moment the music quieted, someone's footsteps on the other side.

He opened the door and looked at her in surprise, involuntarily glancing down at her bare legs and then at her face again, swallowing loudly.

"Were you eavesdropping?" She asked reproachfully.

He pressed his lips together, looking away.

"Yeah. I'm sorry." He said low with sincere regret. "I wanted to know how you were feeling. How you're coping with it."

"Can't you just ask me?" She said regretfully, looking at him with her eyebrows arched in pain, feeling the tears under her eyelids again, emotionally unhinged from what she had recounted.

He looked at her surprised, she could see that he was uncomfortable. He let out a loud breath.

"I'm not good at this. At talking. I didn't know if I should ask. Whether it was the right thing to do. I don't know what more I could say." He muttered, shrugging his shoulders, looking everywhere but at her.

"You can ask me anything you want. I trust you." She said softly, and he swallowed loudly, as if for some reason her words caused him pain, as if he wanted to say something more, as if he had something on the tip of his tongue.

She waited patiently for him to pull himself together, for him to think through what he wanted to say. He looked at her.

"I hated you all these years. I hated you because I saw you as a person who does everything for show. For show you baked me cakes to make you feel good about yourself, for show you came here and apologised to me, always loud, always first everywhere, you always had to have your opinion about everything." He said low and fast, and she felt the cold sweat on her back and the frighteningly strong pounding of her heart as she looked at him in disbelief.

"When I heard what Cregan said to his mates I thought I should warn you. To say: be careful, he's planning something more, he's talking about you to his mates as if you were an object. But I didn't. Because I didn't like you." He muttered and she saw his lower lip tremble, his healthy eye red, his breath hitched.

"If I told you, it wouldn't have happened. Do you know how I have you saved on my phone?" He asked in a trembling voice, a single tear running down his cheek.

"Foxy."

She felt tear after tear begin to run down her face, she drew in air loudly feeling tightness in her throat, she felt like someone was tearing her heart from the inside out, a strange, broken sound came from her chest.

"Please, hug me." She mumbled so pitifully that his face contorted in a grimace of pain and regret, he pulled her to him instantly and she clamped her hands on the material of his Tshirt, sobbing loudly, his arms wrapped around her tightly on each side.

"− I'm sorry −" He muttered in a low, hoarse, breaking voice. "− I'm sorry −"

She lifted her gaze to him, trying to catch her breath, and he lowered his head to look at her, their faces almost touching, their hot breaths surrounding their skin.

She felt something strange looking at him so closely, she thought he had a lovely eye colour, that he had fine cheekbones, a pleasing nose and forehead. Something changed in his gaze when he noticed that she glanced at his lips and found them surprisingly full, they looked soft, slightly parted in his accelerated breathing.

She felt his body tense up, felt his fingers clench tighter on her back. All she could hear was the loud pounding of her heart and their breaths, nothing more.

"− wanna kiss? −" She heard him whisper, as if it was a kind of casual proposal, as if he was asking her if she felt like eating something or going for a walk.

She swallowed loudly, glancing at him again, and simply nodded.

She didn't have time to take another breath and his warm, soft lips were already on hers, she felt his hand on the back of her neck which drew her close, making his job easier, he sighed as if with some kind of relief.

She had never suspected that kisses were so wet and sticky, so noisy, but she didn't want him to stop, so she stroked his scarred cheek with her hand, closing her eyes, mimicking his movements, brushing her lips against his with a loud click.

She tightened her second hand in his short, light hair, feeling the heat in her lower abdomen, feeling the pulsation between her thighs, his lips wonderfully soft, moist and firm, he brushed and sucked her fleshy skin, their breaths loud and drawn out.

"− fuck −" He growled out between one loud click of saliva and the next, panting along with her, their kisses increasingly deep, intimate, passionate and wet.

They pulled away from each other suddenly, breathing as if they had run a marathon, looking at each other in disbelief.

"− I − are you all right? −" He mumbled, his healthy eye wide open in panic.

She just nodded, feeling that she looked just like him. She moved away from him and he let her go immediately, running his hand over his mouth and chin in a gesture of disbelief.

"− I − fuck −" He muttered and they both gasped when they heard the sound of the door opening, Helaena leaned her head out, clearly worried that she hadn't been back for so long.

"− are you okay? −" She asked loudly, surprised, and she nodded, looking up at him with her heart pounding like mad, swallowing hard.

"− y-yes − I − I am coming −" She muttered and ran towards her, Helaena smiled at her and closed the door behind her.

She said she had already found Shrek online on her laptop and everything was ready to watch. She smiled and sat down on her bed next to her, trying to focus on what she was seeing, but her thoughts, as well as her heart, were with someone else, a few rooms away.

They kissed.

Good God.

An excellent start to a friendly relationship indeed.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond kinslayer #aemond #prince aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell smut #hotd smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond angst #hotd angst #ewan mitchell angst #modern aemond angst #dark modern aemond #modern aemond smut #modern aemond

[goodluckclove]

I've been meaning to say something. (100 follower hot take)

Hey! Thanks for stopping by. I hope you've had a nice day. Why don't you rest with me for a while? I made some chocolate chip cookies - with shortening instead of butter, so they're very soft and very chocolatey. I made way too many and they aren't my wife's favorite, so I could use some help in eating them.

You're probably a writer, right? Or maybe you think about how you could be. Browse the tags here, or on other social media platforms. Maybe you used to write stories as a kid. I bet those were fun. Teachers might've thought they were impressive, or they dissected them line by line until the words didn't make sense in your head anymore. Either way, if you're here you're probably here for a reason.

(rant alert)

I dipped a toe in online writing communities on and off. My last attempt was forty-five minutes scrolling through the writing hashtag on Youtube Shorts (so TikTok, I guess? I don't know). I didn't like it. I really didn't. The thing that sticks out the strongest in my mind is one particular video where a woman claims that every story needs a second act plot twist.

Huh? Every story? All of them? Why? Since when? Who are you? What qualifications do you have to make a statement like that?

That's the common thread that makes a lot of writing spaces very uncomfortable for me. Successful writers are really only successful in their genre and for the given moment, so they don't have that much objective authority in the craft. And yet I see a lot of people deciding the things that you can't do in writing. Or the things you have to do, and how you have to do them. It was so much of Writeblr at first glance that I almost dipped out once again. I didn't, though, and I'm glad I didn't because now I get to watch some of the next great storytellers from across the world grow and examine and forge their way forward.

No one can teach you how to write. No, that's not true. Teachers teach literacy. Handwriting. Typing maybe - do schools still teach typing? Let me try saying it in a different way - no one, not one single person on this goddamned planet, has the right to tell you how to make a story.

I was supposed to get my MFA in creative writing before my first breakdown. My uncle stayed in the program I was meant to be in, and a few years after I dropped out he graduated. Recently I had the thought to look up his thesis novella, and as I searched I found myself regretting my decision to leave school. If I stayed and got to develop my writing in an actual class, with other writers and a knowledgeable professor, how much further along would I be than where I am right now?

It was bad. His novella was terrible. It was so bad I had a small existential crisis for, like, three days. He spent so much money on years and years of professional education and came out with a truly soulless story that read as if you prompted an AI to write the next Great American Novel. So if you think you need a writing degree to be a legitimate author, it could help connections-wise, but it ultimately won't be the thing that does the work for you.

Not all advice I see online on writing is bad. I find the people who are able to capture the "I" statements of therapy and phrase advice as things that have worked for them, or things that they personally enjoy, to be fine. Some writing advice can spark inspiration.

But if someone is the type of person to boil every story down to troupes and cliches, and then immediately say that every story that uses the trait they don't like is automatically bad for everyone? I'm dropping the kindness for a second - that's trash. That's a trash take and I see far too many writers use it as a reason to stop before they begin.

I don't like whump. I say my reasons in previous posts if you go back through my blog. But you will never hear me say that any story with whump in it is bad, because I don't know that. You might prove me wrong. I am an adult human being and I have the humility to admit that I can like something I didn't expect to. I genuinely enjoy the direction of The Human Centipede (only the first one) and if you cringed just now that probably means you haven't seen it.

There are so many types of books and movies and plays and comics out there. To enjoy a specific genre is fine, to ignore the existence of everything else is a really, really, really odd thing to do. Maybe someone will hate your story because they think everything should be Neil Gaiman, and therefore have no way to understand your epistolary high-Western. You are not the wrong end of that situation just for existing.

And at there is a definite threshold on how many writing tips you can gather before they stop being useful. If you find them interesting, that's one thing. That's fine. But if the culture of creativity online has made you feel like you need to educate yourself on every possible angle before you can write a story, you are actively harming yourself.

Imagine taking the level of structure you put on yourself in that way and putting it on children playing pretend in the backyard. Oh, Susie, don't you know that it's overdone for your Kitsune have dead parents? Xyler, shouldn't you ask someone else before you decide how Spiderman would react to this? It would make no sense and they do not need it. Kids will make a whole world out of nothing and it's the most fucked thing in my heart that at some point they get access to Reddit and dipshits start insisting that's wrong.

They aren't wrong and you aren't either. Your favorite creative influencer can't tell you your story, strangers on the internet can't tell you your story, your teachers and loved ones can't tell you your story. They can influence it, but they can't write it honestly the way you can.

You do that. That's the thing you do.

Man that makes me upset. I can't tell you how to make a story, either. If anyone sends me asks for writing advice the most I'll do is say what I've done before hopping into your DMs and starting a direct conversation. it's so personal to each individual artist, and I'd like to think that the people selling these classes and software and promoting these platforms haven't thought about that before. Otherwise it does feel manipulative. If you have a willingness to practice and imagine and really experiment with the possibilities, you are ready to write your story.

And if it doesn't work? Try again. That's what you do.

Stephen King has written roughly a thousand books and maybe five of them have decent endings. He is unimaginably successful.

I'm rambling now. I think I got that out of my system. I was really worried to say this out of fear of being too weird or somehow reverse-gatekeeping so hard that it circles back into also being a bad thing. I've just spoken to a lot of people who I still think of throughout my day, and I truly ache for them to get past the fear of creation. Because it's worth it. It's worth it and it's fun, even when it's messy and you're tired.

Let it Be just came on. Beatles. I haven't listened to The Beatles in a long time. Feels a little apropos.

I love you, reader. Reader, Writer, Colleague. Take care of yourself. Especially the little you, still sitting there in the backyard of your soul, bathing in the sun with their bare feet in the damp earth.

Consider joining them, maybe.

#writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #queer writers #authors of tumblr #on writing #writing #actually writing #writing resources #writing tips #writing help #writing advice #how to write #writing tips and tricks #writers supporting writers

[readyplayerhobi]

Knife's Edge | Epilogue

; Mafia!Jungkook x Reader, Jimin x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, mild angst

; Word Count: 3.6k

; Synopsis: The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an  unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

; A/N: Recent interest in this series again has inspired me to finally write an epilogue - it's just fluffy nonsense, honestly. But I hope you enjoy it either way! Thank you for all the love on this series!

Previous Chapter

-

Five Years Later

Humming quietly, you carefully take the baby foxglove out of its pot and place it into the hole you've dug. The dirt is soft and malleable - not too hard to dig, but not borderline mud, either. The plant looks tiny compared to some of the giants surrounding it, but you know this little one will grow taller than them all.

It might not be much now, but in a few months, it will be a few feet high and blossoming with delicate purple blossoms, the petals sighing down to the ground. Beautiful flowers that will hide a dark secret - foxgloves are as deadly as they are pretty.

That wasn't why you were planting it, though. You just thought they were pretty, the reason why you'd planted everything in the extensive garden of your home. The mansion Jungkook lived in, and now you, was huge and the gardens were equally so.

Neither of his parents had ever cared what the gardens looked like, so they'd just hired landscapers and gardeners to care for it. But when you'd married Jungkook and officially moved in, you'd asked if you could take over the garden beds. It was a new passion you'd discovered over the months leading up to your wedding - hours spent knelt in the dirt in between your classes and exams.

Unlike people, plants weren't judging. They didn't care what you'd done, or what you thought and they had no opinions of you. They just existed, and they were happy to get the attention.

It probably wasn't too healthy, but you'd used the plants as therapy. Hours upon hours had been spent with you whispering all your secrets to them, your hopes and dreams and fears and regrets being woven into their leaves as they grew. A real therapist would've been more helpful, but what kind of therapist would be able to help someone like you?

They'd have to be Clan approved, which in turn would mean you couldn't possibly tell them what you really thought. No one knew why Jungkook and you had suddenly had a rift so deep that he'd refused to see you for weeks. And everyone knew that something bad had happened - Jungkook was, and still is, infamous in the Clan for his weak spot for you.

Anything you told a therapist would be spread throughout the Clan like wildfire, the winds of gossip spreading the fires of rumour faster and higher than you could hope to outrun. The whole Clan would know that you'd cheated on Jungkook, that you'd betrayed him in the worst way a woman could in the Clan. On top of that, everyone would know that Jungkook had overlooked it - that he'd opted to forgive you for your transgression and love you still.

You'd be vilified for being unfaithful, and he'd lose all respect from the Clan he now ruled. 

No, you couldn't tell anyone what had happened. A secret you would take to your grave, with only 3 people aware of it outside of yourself. And none of them had any interest in it getting out.

Still, you hadn't wanted the ghost of unsaid anger and resentment haunting your relationship, so you'd done a lot of research into therapy. It’s not as good as going to an actual, qualified therapist, but it's better than nothing. Plus, you can only imagine the judgment if people find out Jungkook had been attending therapy - the backwards views of the Clan would have them screaming that he wasn't fit to lead if he was going to therapy of all things.

So you watched videos and you read things, until you had a basic understanding of how to navigate things. Jungkook and you talked things out instead of keeping secrets, you let him know if you were feeling lonely or sad and he let you know if he was feeling overwhelmed or unhappy. Some things you'd improvised yourself, all in the name of making sure you both communicated.

If there was an argument, then you would both write down why you were angry on a piece of paper and then let the other read it. Jungkook had thought this was silly at first, but getting out his stress and anger on paper instead of shouting it let him think through what he was annoyed over. Most of the time, you both discovered that you weren't angry at the other, but at something else and it had simply bubbled up.

Just last year, you'd both had an argument with you snapping at Jungkook for not taking his laundry upstairs. He'd snapped back, pointing out that he'd been busy all day and the laundry was the least of his worries. Cue a ten-minute argument before Jungkook grabbed a notepad, ripped out two pages and handed you a pen. The two of you had scribbled furiously, brows creased in concentration and jaws tight with frustration.

What had started with you being annoyed at him for not taking his laundry, after asking him many times, was revealed to be that you were feeling lonely in the big house on your own. He'd been busy, true, which meant he'd barely been home for a month and when he had been home, he'd been either asleep or locked in his office. Whilst you'd been able to graduate college and take a job as a teacher - much to the shock and horror of pretty much everyone in the Clan - it had summer vacation. You'd had no work to do during the time off.

As unhealthy as it was, he was still your only friend in the Clan - other women steered clear of you after the Incident - and you'd been desperately lonely and sad. You’d had casual friends - acquaintances from work and a few elderly folks from the gardening club you'd joined, but no one you could be open and honest with. You'd wanted your husband, your best friend.

Ironically, Jungkook had been irritated by his work just like he'd said. But when he drove down into it, he was annoyed that the busiest period had occurred at the same time you were off work. He'd wanted to spend time with you, maybe even go on vacation, yet he'd barely seen you. Add on his irritation at idiotic people in the Clan putting people's lives in danger and he'd been a powder keg of annoyance.

Understandably, you'd both apologised once you'd figured out why the argument had happened. Though Jungkook had felt terrible that you'd been so sad - he'd never quite forgiven himself or the Clan for isolating you, even if it had been warranted at the time.

Patting down the soil around the plant until it's fully compacted, you hum lightly before brushing your hands together. Dirt falls to the floor from the gloves and you sit up, stretching your back with a wince and a groan. As much as you love being in the garden, your back certainly doesn't.

Standing, you grab the empty plant pots and begin to tidy up after yourself. It's meant to rain later tonight, so you don't bother watering the new plants.

Before you even get to the door that leads to the kitchen, you hear the low tones of Jungkook's voice from inside. He's home early, you think, you check the time on your phone before washing your hands in the sink.

“Here's mommy!” He coos, and you turn to see him holding your four-month-old daughter in his arms, her back to his chest. Jungkook grins at you over the top of her head, his hair perfectly gelled into place as dimples dot his tan skin.

He hadn't even bothered changing yet, still in his crisp all-black suit that he'd left in this morning. The only thing he was missing was his shoes - instead, he was just wearing black socks.

Hana squeals with excitement as she recognises you, chubby legs kicking out as her arms windmill and your heart swell with love and adoration for her. For him, too. A few years ago, you'd thought this would all be an impossible dream - yet here you are, married to him and with the perfect little girl.

“Hey, beanie! You being good for daddy?” Leaning forward, you tickle her sides and smile in delight as she wriggles in Jungkook's arms. She's such a perfect baby and has been adored by Jungkook and you since you'd seen the two pink lines in the pregnancy test. Life without her was an impossible thought, and the whole Clan knew that Hana was more important to Jungkook than anything in the Clan. He didn't care if the idea of him being a loving parent shocked some of them, if anything he believed that there were people in the Clan who needed to see what an actual parent should be.

The only thing that concerned you was Jungkook's love for Hana and you were also well known to other Clans. A deep-rooted fear was that one of them would try to attack him through Hana, despite the high levels of protection he put in place. It was something that the two of you could only attempt to mitigate, as there was no way to completely cut off the threat. Even turning whistle-blower to the government wouldn't guarantee protection.

But Jungkook did what he could. You both at least had the relief of knowing that Hana, and yourself, were safe from the rival Clan in your city. Jimin had taken over a few years ago, and even though your friendship was much more sporadic than it had been, he'd made it clear that no one was to hurt you or Hana for fear of a war breaking out.

That was his excuse, but you knew he just didn't want you or your baby girl hurt. Whilst Jungkook wasn't exactly thrilled that you were still friends with Jimin in some way, he'd been grateful to find out that Jimin had given you friendship and comfort when the whole Clan had turned against you. He was even more grateful to find out the protection that Jimin had bestowed, and if it wouldn't have caused issues with both sides then he would have let you introduce Jimin to Hana.

No one could ever say Jungkook wasn't a reasonable person. If anything, he was too reasonable when it came to you, but he'd put aside his dislike of Jimin because he'd been the only person there for you in your darkest days.

“I'm guessing you turned off the monitor, as mine didn't go off.” You ask Jungkook, gesturing to the baby monitor attached to your belt. He liked to surprise you with her, and there was nothing more you loved than seeing your big, tough husband holding his tiny baby girl. You didn't understand the logic of it, but it made you want to do things that could not be spoken aloud around Hana.

“Yeah, she was just starting to wake so I thought I'd take her instead of bothering you. You seemed pretty happy in the garden.” He replies, kissing Hana’s dark hair fondly.

No matter what the Clan thought of you, there could be no denying that Hana was Jungkook's daughter. She'd inherited his eyes, from their shape to the way they seemed to shine at nothing. The two of them next to each other made the family resemblance even stronger.

You'd made some terrible decisions in your life, but you liked to think Hana made up for them. She sure made Jungkook happier than he'd ever been, which was more than enough for you.

Leaning forward, you kiss Hana’s forehead and cherish the squeal of delight she gives at the affection. She adores her mommy and daddy - you won't accept anyone’s comments that she's a baby and they all love their parents that much. Hana, of course, is special.

“Someone's had a good nap, haven't you? You get it from your daddy, he sleeps like a log, too.” Smiling, you tickle her stomach around Jungkook's arms and enjoy the sharp peals of laughter she gives. Pregnancy hadn't been fun, and there were nights when you questioned why you'd done this, but it all went away when you heard that laughter.

“The sleep genes are strong in the Jeon's.” Jungkook laughs, leaning past Hana to press a kiss to your lips. He's not wearing his lip ring, or his earrings, as Hana had a habit of grabbing them and not letting go. Jungkook might be the head of an entire Clan that does plenty of shady shit, but he whined like a baby himself when Hana was tugging on those rings and you were constantly afraid she was going to accidentally rip them from him.

You missed them, but he put them back in for date nights or when he was going to his job. Miss Hana would have to wait till she was older to get to see daddy with his piercings again.

You're distracted away from that thought process by the way Hana starts making familiar noises, her tiny body bouncing in Jungkook's arms whilst her eyes are focused firmly on your chest.

“Okay, looks like someone is hungry.” You say, reaching out and taking Hana into your arms. She almost immediately starts nuzzling, trying to root out her source of food and makes some cranky noises when your top prevents her from reaching her goal. It’s a familiar process by now, and you take comfort in it as you head through to the living room - despite the house becoming Jungkook’s after he took over for his father, the two of you only use half of it, with the other half still housing his parents.

You’d had no interest in kicking them out of their home, especially as you thought this house was ridiculously large anyway. So, instead, Jungkook renovated the mansion until it was technically two houses in one with an office section in the centre for Clan business. It gave you the privacy you needed, without taking away from the prestige it gave to Jungkook. You didn’t have to worry about Clan business being brought into your personal space, as there was no way to access your side from the offices.

The living room was still an obscene size, but you’d chosen an equally large sofa to take up most of the space. It was somewhere that Jungkook and you enjoyed laying on to relax after a long day, and Jungkook had installed a screen projector instead of a TV. Hana was going to love this room when she was older, and you could already see the fights between her and Jungkook when they wanted to watch something in particular.

“Hang on, lemme just sort this-” Jungkook mutters as he moves past you, heading over to where the corner of the sofa intersects with the other part and patting the cushions into place. He was the master at creating a snuggle zone for you with enough support that nursing Hana didn’t cause any backache, but today you wanted to enjoy the fact he was here with you.

“Can you sit with us? Or let me lean on you?” You ask, bouncing Hana lightly as you try to distract her enough until he’s done. She’s getting impatient though, and the soft whining sounds are starting to turn a little more upset. Another few minutes and she’ll start crying.

Jungkook pauses, looking up at you with raised brows before smiling. He doesn’t even try to hide the happiness that takes over, and your heart skips a little at the pure joy and love radiating from him.

“Yeah, gimme a sec.” He says, rearranging the cushions so it’s comfy for two to sit in before quickly taking off his jacket. It’s thrown onto the sofa without a second glance, and you take a moment to wince at the elegant fabric - it’s going to crease and you know for a fact that jacket is worth a few grand. But he’s never cared about stuff like that, and you need Hana fed sooner rather than later so you don’t mention it.

“Okay, come on princess, let’s get our little bean fed.” Standing back for a second, Jungkook grins at you happily as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms, revealing the ink on them that is a colourful contrast to the rest of him. He sits down and holds out an arm, which you happily sink into before readjusting until you’re comfortable enough to sit for a while.

Hana’s face creases and the first sounds of that heartbreaking cry start to leave her. Hurriedly, you coo to her as you lift your shirt and pull your nursing bra down slightly. There’s a brief moment where you’re worried she’s going to start screaming, but her mouth latches onto your nipple and almost immediately she settles as she begins to feed heartily.

Letting out a deep breath, you let your head roll back onto Jungkook’s shoulder before smiling at him.

“Crisis averted.” You laugh, wincing ever so slightly as Hana suckles a little too painfully. Jungkook smiles at you and looks down at his little girl, his smile turning so soft. Being around Hana is always so soothing to him, even when she’s screaming with tears flowing because she’s the complete opposite of his job as the head of the Clan. She’s peace and joy and happiness and love whereas his job is often anger and frustration and violence.

He’s made it clear to you that Hana will get to do whatever she wants when she grows up. If she wants to go to college, she can or if she wants to join the Clan, then she can. Jungkook refuses to let her gender hold her back, and even though he doesn’t want her involved in the dark side of his life, he’s going to let her decide. If she wants to walk away from the Clan forever, then he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’ll live a safe life. There’s going to be those in the Clan who will bristle at these decisions he’s making, but he’s already told you that he doesn’t care. His daughter and her happiness are more important than anything else, and you’ll support him 100%.

Sighing quietly, you let yourself relax and just watch Hana as she feeds. Her life is so uncomplicated right now, and she’s got so much to look forward to as she grows.

“Are you happy?” You ask Jungkook, not even realising you were thinking the words until they’ve left your mouth. There’s a moment of silence as Jungkook processes what you’ve said, and you feel him tense ever so slightly.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” The tension in him is from confusion more than anything else, and you let out a soft sigh before shifting until the back of your head is resting in the crook of his neck. Of course, he’s happy, why wouldn’t he be? But deep down inside, you know that you’ve never forgiven yourself for what you did, and there’s a part of you that’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The small part of you that’s terrified you’ll make a mistake one day and Jungkook will throw you out again, only this time keeping your daughter. It’s ridiculous, and you know that he’d never do it, but you’ve never been able to get rid of that tiny voice that says dark things to you in the back of your mind.

“Ignore me, seriously, ignore me - I’m happy and I know you’re happy. I love you. Hana is perfect, and I love her so much. She’s the best present you’ve ever given me. I dunno, I’m just tired and taking crap.” Letting out a huff of laughter, you inhale deeply and let it out in a slow motion. You’re not lying, you are tired lately and still hormonal. A four-month-old baby who relies on you to feed her means that you’re exhausted, and you’re already feeling your body start to shut down as you sit comfortably in the arms of your husband with the warm weight of your baby against you.

Jungkook presses his lips to your temple, letting them rest there for a moment.

“One day, you’ll finally believe me when I say I forgive you. But I’ll say it again - I forgive you, and I love you, and I don’t want to spend a day of my life without you. If I died tomorrow, then I’d die happy knowing I got the chance to love you and Hana. So yes, I’m happy and I’ve been happy and I’ll be happy. Please, stop beating yourself up for it.” He kisses your head again, and you’re too tired and hormonal to be hearing his words rationally. 

You start to cry, your chest heaving in a way that makes Hana grumble at being jostled but the thought of him being gone makes your heart ache so painfully. 

“Please don’t die, please.” Your plea makes him laugh quietly, and he wraps his arm around your front, just above where Hana is, and hugs you.

“Okay, okay, those were the wrong words to say when you’re nursing. My bad, forget I said it. I’m not gonna die, okay? Just…focus on that I love you. I love you, princess. Always have, always will.” Tears falling down your face, you tilt your head up until you’re able to kiss him. It’s nothing vulgar or intense, but the depth of emotions in that small kiss makes you feel so much.

“I love you, too. And Hana, I love her so much.”

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #jungkook fluff #jimin fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jimin fic #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jimin x you #jimin x reader

[linddzz]

Here an assortment of Facts About Morpheus in the Red Flags AU. Where I'm starting to lean more towards the version where they meet and are already into each other before the ""Fake Date"" Incident:

-Jessamy is the raven he took care of when he found her injured outside of his townhome. He now has a room with a window he often keeps open for her to fly into whenever she feels like it. I don't know how legal any of this is in London but tbh it doesn't matter because he also does not know what the laws are and doesn't care.

- His townhome is very dark maximalist in decor, which tends to surprise people at first. There are houseplants and little statues all over, and the walls are hidden behind millions of bookshelves. There is an art studio room and books scattered everywhere. Very recently, hypothetical visitors would notice a lot of child locks and child proofed areas that have a bit of a panicked "I bought every safety thing in the store bc I have no idea wtf I'm doing" energy to them.

- He has a therapist. Yes, the Morpheus that Hob meets is the upgraded version who is actually working on himself already. This is what the improved personal growth version of Morpheus is like.

Anyway, said therapist is Gilbert F. Greene. Because Morpheus going head to head with an unstoppable force of old timey adorable optimism who will also not take his shit is delightful. Dr. Greene insists on going by first names and Morpheus always makes "Gilbert" sound like a slur in retaliation. Some conversations I imagine include:

"Good morning Gilbert, you will never guess who had what you might call a """relapse into self destructive behaviors"""" last night."

"I am very sorry to hear that my dear boy. Let me say though, that I am so very proud of you for calling me! That is a phenomenal step for you and it's wonderful that you are being proactive in your recovery."

"Don't patronize me Gilbert. I will hang up."

(this ended up being super long so I'm just gonna spare y'all's dash. Warning for some lightly touched on mentions of drug use and self destructive behavior.)

- Him getting a therapist was part of the requirements for gaining visitation rights and then weekend custody once a month with Orpheus. The therapy is actually helping, and he's bitter about that.

- His given name is actually Dream, he goes by his middle name. All the Endless siblings have awful names. Desire goes by Adonai because who calls a fucking child Desire???

When Hob meets the rest of the family, Destiny goes "it's good to see you again, Dream" and Hob begins turning to Morpheus like "lmao who tf is named Dream" only to find Morpheus glaring daggers at his brother.

- The Endless parents are rarely around. Some of the siblings still live in the manor and they all use it for family dinners, but it's common for their parents to be off travelling for years at a time.

- Morpheus is an author and a painter who has a bajillion pen names to go with each genre he writes in, so it's hard to figure out exactly how much he's written. Even before becoming a father though, his face and full name is mostly associated with children's fantasy stories that he illustrates himself, and his Art vs Artist vibe is very Miyazaki.

Him and Calliope collaborated on a series of illustrated poetic translations of ancient epics. Their divorce was exactly as messy as one might imagine the divorce between two passionate artist types might be.

- His downward spiral of self destruction started before the divorce but oh boy did it nosedive during and after.

- When she got pregnant after divorce proceedings had started, there was a moment where they were both meeting with lawyers and one asked something along the lines of if this meant they would try for reconciliation and staying together. Calliope said "no" immediately.

It's not like Morpheus exactly thought they would get back together, but the speed and firmness of that hard "no" had his head screaming with white noise and some badly thought out self medication for months, which ended up being why Calliope got full custody and he is just now able to get more involved with the now two year old Orpheus.

- His rebound with Thessaly was also messy. She was just in it for a fun fling and he was... Morpheus. He found out he got dumped when she informed him she was already in the process of moving back to Greece, and Johanna said he needed to be banned from any more beautiful Greek expats from that day forth.

- No one can figure out what the deal is with him and Lucienne. The simple explanation is they're queerplatonic soul mates. Lucienne's wife Gault thinks they're a bit codependent (not an inaccurate assessment), but is more civil with him since the day she yelled at him to go get an actual therapist instead of constantly putting his shit on Lucienne, and he actually did. (It is unclear if this or Calliope demanding therapy for him to get visitation with Orpheus was his wake up call catalyst, but probably a bit of both.)

- Lucienne was originally a personal assistant. She now works as his editor since she seems to be the only person who can keep track of all the shit he's written. She is also the only person who can get away with critiquing his works in progress without sending him into a fit where he might burn all his manuscripts.

- When Morpheus started mentioning this Gadling guy a lot, Lucienne paid a visit to the pub. Not to do anything so crude as to threaten a man's life if he breaks her sensitive friend's heart. What could she do anyway? No no. She's just here to smile with zero trace of humor and ask some questions while looking him up and down through her spectacles. Hob will later describe this as one of the most pants shitting moments of his life, and he felt like he got transformed back into a primary school kid who talked slightly too loudly in the library.

- Morpheus went through a slutty phase during and shortly after University that was less of a healthy and fun exploration of his sexuality and libido, and a bit more "I will take anyone who will have me in any way they will want me and I know that if nothing else, I'm pretty."

- Him and Johanna used to have a game seeing who could get more free drinks in one night. This had to be put to an end when it turned into the catalyst for at least three screaming fights between them.

Fight subjects were

Quality vs Quantity. Morpheus insists his ability to get people to buy him a single glass of wine that costs £50 beats Johanna's cheap beers. Johanna disagreed. loudly.

Is it cheating when Morpheus ran to the bathroom to smudge on some eyeliner and then stole Johanna's lip gloss? Is it further cheating when Johanna realized that his main method of getting drinks was "act like Adonai"? Accusations that he would ever act like his horrid annoying younger sibling sent Morpheus into an absolute tantrum.

Competitiveness DID overcome sibling rivalry enough for Morpheus to go to Adonai for makeover assistance. This backfired because it made Morpheus hot to the point of intimidating, and Johanna won that night.

- After Hob starts flirting with him, Morpheus goes suspiciously into a Romantic, Pre-Raphaelite inspired art era featuring lots of noble knights with dark sunlit hair. A lot of them seem to be lured in by dark haired fae entities all La Belle Sans Merci style. It's disgustingly obvious.

-Therapy has made him juuuuust self aware enough to know that he MAYBE tends to go a bit hard and fast with romance. This makes him a little more cautious with Hob than he usually would be, and he's doing a bit of "Hob is so nice and sweet and interested but I'm gonna mess it up :(((" pining. Everyone around him is fucking sick of it. He is not self aware enough to realize he's still going super hard and fast, but this time he's doing it while sighing sadly and drawing Hob in his sketchbook all the fucking time.

#red flags au #human au #Dreamling #gonna make my pinned masterpost to organize shit later today djdjdksk

[captain-lessship]

Dad! L Headcannons

a/n: I tried to write this as gender ambiguous as possible but it definitely leans more AFAB reader but I just wanted to say that families come in all shapes and ranges. And L would want to raise a kid with you regardless of your gender orientation.

Pre-Children:

Was the one to bring it up.

wanted two but would be totally supportive if you only wanted one

Would help you plan everything for getting yourself ready for kids (Doctors visits, family therapy if you wanted, looked into every option if you couldn’t carry a child on your own.)

when you actually became pregnant, he was over the moon.

Pregnancy:

Was very supportive and caring.

Never made you feel guilty for your cravings and such.

went to every appointment he could with you

Wanted this to be stress free as possible so he eliminated a lot of your struggles

He legit took notes on pregnancy books

Could be a little much with all the information he now knows but will back off slightly if you told him that he was being a hovering husband

He only trusted certain people around you: Watari, Your family, your friends and the doctors. Would definitely try to keep you in the house if he could but would accept it if you had a problem with it.

when you found out you were having twins, he nearly fainted of happiness. (But do to his lack of expression, you thought it was shock)

Infant: 

very gentle with the babies but isn’t very good at holding them. 

Prefers to give the affection by means of letting their tiny fingers wrap around his or giving them tiny kisses til they giggle

Thankfully he is up to take care of the babies throughout the night. With the aid of Watari. (Who is pretty much their grandpa)

Keeps a keen eye on the baby monitors. The monitors themselves have microphones and thermometers to keep the nursery at a comfortable and consistent temperature.

Was a little shaky when changing the first diaper but is now a pro and surprisingly quick at it. 

Throws up if they throw up.

Calls the babies “it” 

Pities them when you dress them up.

“Do they really need to be that… frilly?” “They’re adorable.” “Our baby is currently 86% frill.” 

Family photos litter the house. He is extremely proud of you and his children

Toddler: 

he falls victim to the puppy dog eyes too easily. 

The children are spoiled rotten. 

Has been wrapped around his kids fingers since the day they were born and the kiddos are just now realizing this. And using it to their advantage 

Doesn’t want his kids to be like him and only eat sweets.

If his kids didn’t like a certain food, he would have it cooked a different way. Only after several attempts at getting the kids to at least tolerate it, would he give up and drop the matter entirely. Almost

“Taste buds change every seven years” “They hate all things that resemble a carrot.” “For now.”

Would be the one to check in the kids during the night, either on the hallway camera (after they don’t need a baby monitor, he takes cameras out of their room because he respects your child (and honestly, can a toddler do anything maliciously?)or by carefully peering through the door. 

Would be extremely proud if his children took on his seating position.

he was built to be a girl dad. He just was. 

He would let his baby girl do his makeup and paint his nails. 

Surprisingly good at doing her hair. 

“Look! Papa made these!” She’d said, pointing at her pigtails. 

Has been known to forget that he was playing dress up and go on video calls with a fake tiara in his hair. 

“Please, refrain from snickering. There is nothing funny about this case.” “Uh… Sir, there’s something in your hair?” “Ah..” 

is *somehow* surprised when his son reflects him: Quiet.

Loves doing anything with his kids because it gives him a chance to have a childhood again.

Nearly came to tears when he saw his kids drawing of him as a superhero. (He later laid his head in your lap and cried happy tears.) 

He loves his kids more than anything in the world and would do anything for them. 

#l death note #l lawilet #l lawliet x reader #l x reader #death note #dad headcanons #l lawiet headcannons #parenting #pregnancy #pregnancy headcanon #toddler #infants #family bonding #cute