#I don’t need migraine advice

[thebibliosphere]

So in not great news, I’ve developed a trauma response to my migraines.

I just had a faint niggle of pain on the right side of my head—likely caused by my neck muscles being jacked up from yesterday’s migraine and the hours upon hours of throwing up—and while my original response to potentially getting a migraine was weary resignation, I just had what can only be accurately described as a panic attack.

Like full on, couldn’t breathe past my terror, vision tunneling in a way I haven’t experienced since [redacted trauma], ‘it feels like I’m having a heart attack’ panic.

Which is not… not great to begin with but it’s really not good when you have a mast cell disorder where stress can be an anaphylactic trigger, which it is for me, which is why I’ve spent the last for years trying to regulate my nervous system and get a handle on my complex trauma.

Only now, due to the severe amounts of pain I’m in every ten days or fewer, I’m experiencing total emotional dysregulation from the mere thought of having another migraine.

And now I have a headache from the panic attack because it triggered my POTS and now my blood pressure is fucked 🫠

I legitimately cannot do this anymore. This is going to kill me.

[jeezypetes]

Everyone stop taking your tricyclics you don’t needthem any more

[teashellscape]

Harvey x reader (Minors dni)

Paring: sdv Harvey x reader

Synopsis: Harvey’s had a rough day at work and has been stuck doing gruelling paperwork all day. You wanna help him relieve some stress. Some plot, mainly just smut!

Warnings: 18+ smut (minors dni), reader described as having a vagina, oral sex (reader and Harvey receiving), vaginal sex, surprise squirting.

Word count: 1,592k

Rays of light spill through the white blinds of Harvey’s small office; he’s sat behind his desk, head basically buried in his laptop with piles of paperwork surrounding him, his hair is messy and disheveled and he has a frustrated look on his face. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you glance at him. “Hey, you been doing paperwork all day?” You chirp. He looks up from his screen with a huff and smiles slightly seeing your small figure standing in the doorway.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” He rolls back slightly from his desk, his tie is pulled down slightly and some of his buttons undone. You blush at the sight of him like that, it’s rare that work frustrates or bores your boyfriend so you know you’re in for a ride later on.

“Why don’t you come and take a break, sit with me.” You say clicking the door shut and sitting on the small loveseat next to you, patting for him to sit.

“I’m sorry honey but I can’t. I still have so much paperwork to do it’s looking like I’m going to be here all night.” He gives you a sad look, eyes flicking between you and the piles of paperwork laid out on his desk. “No, it won’t hurt you or your work, come on, you’ve probably been sat there all day staring at that screen. You need a break, you’re gonna strain your eyes and get a migraine.” Harvey looks over at you with an all knowing smile.

He chuckles, “never thought you’d be giving me of all people medical advice.” Smiling he stands up, walks over and flops down on the sofa next to you. He closes his eyes with a smile on his face, you turn to him sitting curled up and began playing with his hair. “Mm that’s nice.” He mumbles smiling.

“Do you know what could be nicer?” You say through a smile, blushing slightly. He opens his eyes and looks to the side at you as if to say ‘what?’. You crawl over to him straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck bringing your face so close to him you’re almost nose to nose. With no words said Harvey’s lips crash into yours, his hands sit on your hips every now and then snaking down to give your arse a tight squeeze. Your hand begin playing with the curly strands of hair at the nape of his neck. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger and moves your head to the side kissing down your cheek and travelling to your neck, sucking lightly and nipping in spots, not leaving a mark behind unfortunately. You mewl and moan softly, breathing heavy as you begin to unknot his tie and slowly start unbuttoning his shirt. He moves back up to kiss your lips lightly biting at the bottom one, you let out another moan.

Slowly you begin to move down his body kissing down his chest towards his bellybutton. You begin to unbuckle his belt excruciatingly slow, palming his growing erection and continuing to leave small pecks along his abdomen. Harvey begins to get slightly frustrated with how long you’re taking and starts grabbing at your hair trying to encourage you to speed up. You smirk at his eagerness, pull off his belt and unzip his trousers. He moves you away so that he can pull both his trousers and boxers down letting his erection spring free and slap against his stomach. A wide smile grows on your face as you grasp it in your hand and spit on the tip, you begin pumping it and look up into Harvey’s eyes, his face flushing and quiets mewls escaping his parted lips, he looks absolutely gorgeous. Once you’d had enough pumping it you slip his pink tip between your lips and lick along his shaft watching his head fall back in bliss; his mewls quickly becoming moans. You bob your head back and forth pumping whatever you couldn’t fit in, Harvey’s hand bunched in your hair lightly guiding you along.

Eventually Harvey had had enough and pulled you off of him dragging you to your feet, he roughly pulled your shirt over your head and quickly discarded your bra. He puts his hands under your arse and you jump up wrapping your legs around his waist, you both start another steamy make out session, this time his lips travel down and he begins to make sure he’s leaving marks along your collarbone. Harvey walks over to his desk and begins to clear it, literally just pushing all the paperwork onto the floor, he shuts his laptop lid and chucks it onto the sofa behind you both. He sits you down on his desk pulling away from the kiss, you both heaving with a string of saliva still connecting you and puffy swollen lips. “Lay back.” He commands, all you can do is nod blushing furiously.

Harvey begins leaving kisses and nibbles along your soft stomach making his way to your trousers and unbuttoning them, pulling them down and discarding them. His eyes laid heavy on your soaked panties, he puts his long fingers to them slowly moving up and down. You let out a long whine as he moves to your face kissing you roughly on the lips, “so wet for me, you’ve been waiting all day for this haven’t you?” He smirks and you nod humming in response. His free hand again moves down to grasp your arse, him being this dominant is shocking to you but it just turns you on so much more. He begins once again trailing kisses down your stomach while pulling your sopping panties down your legs. He starts toying with your clit before very easily slipping a finger in making you let out a fairly loud moan. His lips travel down to your little bundle of nerves and he begins sucking while pumping and curling his fingers inside of you, you can’t help but whine and crumble under his touch.

When you first started dating you never expected him to be this good in bed but him being a doctor he probably had a slut phase in college and fuck had it paid off in your favour. Harvey begins switching between sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit making you feel practically numb with pleasure, you could already feel your release building. “Mmm look at you getting tighter already, you gonna cum for me already honey?” He practically whispers, his warm breath enveloping you making you shiver. “Come on, come for me lovely.” He kisses and toys more with your clit, curling his fingers inside of you more aggressively making you writhe. That all too familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach, the next thing you know you’re at your release, your legs shaking violently; you moan loudly, practically seeing stars under his touch, feeling yourself let go completely.

Harvey begins chuckling slightly, still pumping his fingers in and out softly. “Now I didn’t know you could do that.” The next thing you realise is you’ve squirted all over him, feeling embarrassed you cover your face with your hands and you feel his fingers exit you leaving you feel cold and empty making you whine. He gently pulls your hands away from your face and kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips and smell yourself on his mustache. “Let’s see if we can get you to do that again huh?” He says moving back and putting your legs over his shoulder carefully lining his dick up with you. He reaches over to his draws and pulls a condom out, quickly unwrapping it and slipping it onto his length. He rubs himself on you using your slick as lube and then quickly slips himself inside, you both moan out in bliss. “Soft or rough?” He asks leaving you slightly confused.

“Surprise me.” You say smiling. He smiles and begins pumping in and out you both moaning in bliss. He changes paces on and off between fast and hard and soft and intimate and it practically makes the room spin for you. “Oh fuck Harvey, keep going.” You moan to him. Your legs being over his shoulders means he’s hitting your sweet spot over and over and over again sending you wild. You’re both absolute moaning sweaty messes and Harvey moves his hands from your legs to toy with your breasts, playing with your nipples, straight away almost sending you over the edge again.

Harvey’s thrusts begin to get sloppy. “Keep going, faster.” You slur out and without even a second thought the man begins absolutely railing you and starts toying with your clit again. That knot begins to once again form in your stomach and it doesn’t last long until you let go, coming on his cock and once again squirting all over him. Harvey keeps thrusting and finally cums, you feel the warmth filling the condom. He pulls out, ties and disposes of the condom and picks you up bringing you back over to the sofa laying you down gently and moving his laptop to the floor. He grabs his bottle of water and a cloth and cleans you both up, he lays behind you and snuggles closely your naked bodies entwining one another.

“I love you (y/n).” He says,

“I love you too.”

————————————————————————

I’m taking requests for fics so if you wanna leave any this is the post to go to!

[certifiedsexed]

hi there! this isn’t about sex itself, but since periods are usually a part of sex ed and i’ve literally just been woken up because the cramps were bad enough, i thought i would ask — is it normal to be in a lot of pain when you’re on your period?

context: i still live with my abusive parents, who don’t let me take any kind of pain medication after a suicide attempt at thirteen, so i know that this problem might just be that i need to take a strong painkiller. also the pain doesn’t ever last more than three days? like the first three days (and sometimes the days leading up to it) of my period are always hell but then it’s fine, i have no pain afterwards.

but the problem is that the pain is… bad. like being woken up in the middle of the night because my sides hurt and my legs hurt isn’t uncommon, and there’s this weird thing where i’m scared to use the toilet during these first three days because it makes my butt and my sides hurt so much that i genuinely can’t move and have to bite myself to stop myself from screaming. sometimes i’ll be in so much pain, usually in my sides but also sometimes in my stomach or legs or my butt, that i can’t even move, so i just kind of… have to lie pressed into my bed and hold my breath.

my mother has always just told me that she had worse pain when she still used to get her period, and that i’d be completely fine if i just listened to her and used a hot water bottle (i have poor circulation, so hot/cold stuff just doesn’t really feel great for me usually), and i’ve always just kind of accepted that. i know it’s common for people who get periods to talk about how painful things like cramps are, but i genuinely usually feel so miserable for the first couple days of my period that if i don’t need to get out my bed, i literally won’t at all.

i’m just wondering… is everyone who gets periods in as much pain as i usually am, at least for the first couple days? or, since i know that people experience periods differently, are people in more/less pain than i am but it’s fine since this isn’t that bad and i should just take medication each month for it? idk, but ever since i started to get periods they’ve genuinely always made me feel so so bleak and in agony, and i’m someone i’d consider who has a maybe above ‘average’ pain tolerance (i have chronic back pain, migraines, and health issues that make it easy for me to sprain/fracture my ankles which i’ve unironically managed to do about eight times in the past two years — again, unfortunately all of this with mostly no painkillers unless i can get them from the school first aid box), so i just… don’t know anymore, but i thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.

anyways, unrelated but i really do love this blog — the reblogs are always good things to read as someone who’s still unpacking being raised by very puritanical parents, and the asks always offer good advice too, very empathetically in a way that sometimes catches me off guard (there was one post on here that was something about how the asker’s father would belittle them and i think your reply said something like ‘it’s not your fault and nothing’s wrong with that aspect of you’… which i know sounds obvious but that was something that i don’t think had ever been obvious to me ever since my father started doing the same when i was younger. it was really comforting to hear, is what i mean, and your replies often are. so thank you for that! and for the time + energy i can imagine it takes to run this, you post/rb so often!)

Hi! This is absolutely a sex ed question, you're right!

So, first, let me make one thing clear: no! You are not supposed to be in this level of pain on your period. Some pain is understandable but once it gets to the point it's bad/debilitating in Any fashion, something is going wrong.

But I also want to say, being in an abusive living situation can fuck up your periods. And so can being restricted from pain relief, which-just in case you're not aware-is another type of abuse.

But what you're talking about sounds like more than just a lack of basic pain relief. That's very disabling, even if it doesn't last long. It may be that intense reactions to periods run in your family [especially since your mother mentioned experiencing something similar] but that's still something you should be getting something like specialized pain meds for or even stopping your periods altogether.

What you're talking about, especially on top of an abusive living situation, is very unhealthy for you to have to deal with.

Not everyone is in that much pain. Some people are but that's a medical condition. It's a disability! What you're talking about is a disability. It can be caused by PMS or endometriosis or PMDD or it could even be connected to whatever causes your other chronic pain but it's still very much something your parents should be getting you checked out for.

Even if your mother had the exact same pain on her period, that doesn't mean you should have to suffer through it, especially not with her revoking your access to basic pain relief. That's all completely unacceptable and I'm sorry you're having to deal with this.

I'm not sure how helpful this is but I hope it's at least good to know the pain levels you're dealing with are unacceptable and Not "normal" period pain.

Also I'm so glad you're learning and enjoying the blog, especially the advice. I also grew up in an abusive household so to hear it's helping someone else in a similar situation means the world to me, fr. 💕 Sending love, Anon. <3

[emergency-plan]

DPxDC Idea

I had a little idea an have no time to actually write a fic, so I just wrote a sorta-summary and am posting it like this.

This is inspired by the game Home Safety Hotline and may contain hints to spoilers for that game. It's really clever, I really like it. I recommend you play it if slightly spooky without any "real" horror appeals to you.

Alright, Danny's been Ghost King for a few years and has realized more than just his usual rogues make their way to the living world, and a lot of those ghosts don't stay in Amity. By himself, it'd take forever to track down all those spirits and specters that are out causing mischief. Luckily, not many that escaped his notice are all that powerful and could only cause minor disturbances, just enough to get noticed by the living.

Many people outside Amity don't even recognize the activity as ghosts, so they blame other sources. Scratching in the walls is mistaken as mice, whispers and apparitions are mistaken as hallucinations and carbon monoxide hallucinations, attempted overshadowings mistaken as stokes or migraines. In this day and age, where does everyone turn to when looking for advice or how to solve problems? The internet.

Team Phantom devise a method to try and track down ghosts that are stuck or tormenting the living by building a website meant to look like a help hotline, and with some algorithm trickery make it one of the top options when searching for signs similar to ghost presences. Add some bits and bobs to make it appear as a more normal-looking website on any computer affiliated with government organizations, and you’ve got some protection from the GIW.

Calls start slowly, so the three of them can handle it by themselves. Once more people are calling, they decide to start a call center. They hired some trusted people around Amity and even a few ghosts who want to help. To get around worrying about the ghosts messing with the tech while personally taking a call, they decide to automate the system to record caller’s reports for the employees to listen to, and then send a report back, offering their services to bring the spirit back to the Realms.

It’s been surprisingly lucrative, and Danny hasn’t had to dip into his kingly funds much other than at the start. He still keeps prices low, just enough to not garner suspicions at offering a free service while paying his workers fairly (he doesn’t want to know why some of the ghosts want mortal money). What he’s started having more trouble with is not enough employees to take the calls. Sometimes ghosts lose track of time and don’t show up for their shifts (he doesn’t blame them, time gets weird in the Ghost Zone), and he’s run out of people he trusts who want the job.

Eventually he decides to put out an ad, deciding he’ll slowly trust whoever takes the job with a little more information over time, see how they react, and measure to see if they’re trustworthy.

What he doesn’t think about is how posting it on the website will let more people than just those that live in Amity apply.

Meanwhile, in Gotham, one Cassandra Cain is looking for a job. She doesn’t need the money, B gives her access to way too much, but she wants the experience. She’s at the age she’s heard most kids get a job, and she wants to see what it’s like.

And she quickly found out retail and fast food are NOT for her. She doesn’t think those conditions are fit for anyone, honestly. She’d have to see if she could get Bruce to work on that. But that still leaves her out of a job. She got overwhelmed with a lot of people, so virtual options would probably be best, and something that let her interact with people without having to speak. There weren’t a lot of options out there, and she wasn’t skilled enough with a computer yet to take programming ones.

That’s when she found the listing for the hotline call center. Based in a small Illinois town, but had virtual options, listen to recorded customer calls, diagnose their issue, and send an information packet on potential next steps. It was indirect, could also help her practice her reading, and flexible. It was perfect.

It didn’t take long to hear back after she applied (Danny was freaking out, he didn’t think anyone outside Amity would apply. He’d turn this kid down, but she’d mentioned her difficulties with speaking in her application and SWEETY YOU DONT MENTION STUFF LIKE THAT ON AN APPLICATION. But she said the job would be perfect for her and he just couldn’t…) and she got the job!

Her first day rolls around and she’s given access to the database. A lot has been redacted, but she has descriptions for common problems like mice, carbon monoxide, black mold, etc. she gets her first call recording and carefully reads through the entries before selecting the one that sounds right. She sends it off and waits for the next. The calls come a little too regularly, with too similar intervals between them, so she figures her new employer is testing how well she’s doing (Danny’s giving her previous resolved calls that weren’t anything supernatural. She even got the ants right! He had even gotten that wrong!)

Eventually, her shift ends and she tells her family how well her first day went at dinner. They congratulate her and go on patrol as usual. The next day, things ramp up a little.

She logs into the database at the beginning of her shift and noticed some new entries. She now had access to descriptions of shades, blob ghosts, will o’ wisps, and more minor spirits. She gets a recording reminding her all this info is confidential and that she’s not allowed to share it with anyone. She’s a little confused, but she reads through each just as carefully. The calls come less regularly, so she figures she’s actually connected to the system now (Danny gave her access to the most common ghosts they get calls about and is listening in while he’s handling ghosts to make sure she doesn’t get anything she’s not prepared for).

Her shift ends and over dinner, she mentions that she’s had to diagnose some odd things. They assure her there’s more pests and hazards out there than you’d expect. She doesn’t tell her family about the distraught woman haunted by the Ecto-Echo of her husband’s habit of making her coffee every morning after he passed a few weeks ago. Or the person who had a Shade masquerading as their shadow. Just about one of her caller's cockroach problem.

The next day follows a similar pattern; more entries, slightly more powerful ghosts, reminder that the info she's been given access to is confidential and could get people hurt if it got in the wrong hands, congratulated for her good work, read through carefully and learn signs of each, diagnose calls, before calling it a day (Danny was so proud of her, she'd only confused a blob ghost with a ghost animal once, and it hadn't caused him any trouble when he went to collect them).

She'd used the bat-computer to check up on some of the callers she'd diagnosed, and they seemed to be doing fine. Some had posted about their weird experiences on their social media and how her employer had somehow helped them, but often didn't quite know how (Danny liked to hide his powers, so most of what customers saw was him using ghost tech. When it couldn't be solved with just a quick souping, he had to pull a little ghostly trickery while the customer wasn't watching). She didn't know how her boss was somehow across the world multiple times a day to help clients in different countries, but he seemed to at least be helping people. She started not having any stories she could tell her family at dinner.

At some point, she heard reports that one of the speedsters probably messed with time travel again before clocking into her shift. She had almost all the available entries and had gotten very good at recognizing tricky cases. She answered a recorded call, just like at the beginning of each of her shifts, but this one was a little different. Danny had sent out an announcement to be on the lookout for a specific phenomena that often occurred after shifts in reality, as they were highly dangerous and needed to be dealt with swiftly.

She studied each entry and paused on what she was supposed to keep a careful eye out for. Revenants, corpses that came back to life, often seen shambling around the graveyards they were buried in. Something about that sounded familiar. A section in their entry said the person brought back often had a ghost in the Realms (which she still didn't know what that was) that was in terrible pain from shifts in reality trying to pull them back to their body, but the separation of dimensions preventing them.

Expectedly, she did get a call from someone convinced there was a zombie wandering somewhere along the east coast. She double checked it couldn't be anything else before submitting it and notifying her boss.

Curious, and she knew no one would be in the batcave around this time of day, she brought her laptop with her down to the bat-computer. She found cameras in the area the caller reported, and froze at what she saw. Shambling across an abandoned street was a rotting corpse. It really did look like a zombie. It was covered in dirt, wearing an old-fashioned suit, and had skin sloughing off its bones.

But what Cass could only focus on was how much its movements read that it was in pain. It was suffering in such a horrible way its mindless being didn't even deserve. It was horrible.

Then, there was a flash of green and an area of the cameras were covered in static. The glitched portion somehow read with kindness and pity. It slowly approached the corpse, simple reaching out gently (what was presumably a hand), ignoring the way it lashed out. It suddenly fell, caught and slowly lower to the ground by the strange being she couldn't see. It closed the thing's eyes before carrying it off in the direction the map said a graveyard could be found.

After that, she finished her shift and went to dinner. Her family asked if she was alright, and she only replied it'd been a long day.

She clocked in early the next day and messaged her boss for more information on Revenants. Dinner that night was one of the few times Jason agreed to come by, and if he noticed how she kept glancing at him, he didn't say anything.

A week later, she asked her boss what might happen if a Revenant was exposed to, as it was called in its entry, a "Corrupted Ecto-Spring" ("...an ugly hole in the fabric of reality that connects the world of the living to the Realms. The ectoplasm that leaks through the tear stagnates and festers into toxic pools that kills humans and makes ghosts sick."). Danny requested a video call.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Hi Bed Guru! I'm curious about your thoughts and any advice you can give about adjustable beds. Is it basically just the base/frame? Do they need special or specific mattresses? Are they worth it, especially for someone with arthritis (knees, back, shoulders, etc)?

Yeah so instead of having a box spring and a frame, an adjustable base goes right under the mattress and replaces both. You can have a wooden frame around one for aesthetics, but the base holds the bed up and moves it around without the need for anything else.

Adjustable bases. Are. The. Tits. They are so good. There is a million problems they can help with aside from just being comfy as hell. Arthritis and general pressure is one of them.

Ideally if you can convert to back sleeping they can help you the best but you can still get benefits as a side sleeper.

Raising your head even 6” helps with tons of stuff from snoring, sleep apnea, acid reflux, it can help ease sleep apnea but obviously one shouldn’t ditch their machine. It can reduce migraine symptoms in long term studies and is just all around comfy.

Now some folks have tried to use multiple pillows or wedge pillows. The problem with multiple pillows is that every time you need to wake up and adjust them you’re losing sleep, and the wedges are high so they don’t work for most people. The base can sit up in bed to read, watch tv, whatever, then go back down to sleeping height.

Having the legs up makes your lower back way happier, it helps blood to circulate better. There’s a reason people love sleeping in recliners an the base turns your bed into an even better recliner. I can’t say enough good things. Head and feet up create something that got dubbed “zero gravity” which is your body without pressure points. Very useful for achey joints, and the reason adjustable bases got their start in hospitals.

Those features are enough. Head up and down are where all the good stuff is. I personally love my base which has memory settings so I can hit one button to go from sleeping position to recliner position. Mine also has massage which helps me fall asleep way faster. Those features are extra and not strictly necessary but I think they’re great.

There’s even fancier ones with speakers and USB ports and all sorts of stuff so you can go as tricked out as you want but all the basic health benefits are at the bottom end when head and feet elevate. Everything else is just convenience.

As for which beds- almost all modern beds are compatible with adjustable bases. The only kind that’s incompatible are the veryyyy old interconnected coil beds. They’re not very common nowadays because power bases are so ubiquitous that beds need to flex with them.

[faeyramaeyra]

Hey! I dont know if you have already, but do you have a guide on what you NEED to know as a beginner?

🌷 Beginner Advice/Guide 🌷

As a beginner, You should be learning “The Golden Five” (as I like to call them) before anything else. They include: Grounding, Cleansing, Warding, Protection and Banishing. You can find information for these literally anywhere but I’m more than happy to cover them!

I will also cover some extra things too that are just handy to know/keep in mind!

Grounding

Grounding is something good to know in general, Not just for spirituality/paganism. The principle behind it is that you want to use techniques that calm/relax you (send you into your comfort/happy place) so you can focus on the here and now. I hope this makes sense. Meditation is a form of grounding!

Cleansing

Cleansing is the act of getting rid of any unwanted or negative energies etc. Different methods are used for this but the most common are smoke cleansing (using incense or even candle smoke for example), sound cleansing (using the sound of bells for example) and water (example: some people use moon water or create little bags of herbs they use in the shower/bath to cleanse themselves). There are plenty of other methods too but those are the ones I see used most often! Just use whatever works for you. A good incense to use if you like smoke cleansing but are prone to headaches (coming from someone who has chronic migraines) is frankincense and myrrh. A lot of people recommend dragons blood but for me it’s too strong.

Warding

The simple explanation for this one is that wards repel or trap any negative energies/entities/etc that attempt to attach to you or enter your space. People also use wards as defensive barriers against baneful workings. I have a guide on making a plant ward on my page that you could give a quick read but there are other methods too. I have enchanted witches bells that hang on my doorway for example. A common ward I see is salt along doorways, windowsills or any other point of entry into your space. Depending on the energy and intent you place into wards, Some may need to be renewed often and others may be okay for months.

Protection

This is the act of protecting yourself from unwanted/negative energies, backfired spell work, entities you may encounter etc. I have a more in depth guide on my page about why protection is important. Some common protection methods include: crystals and crystal jewellery, witches bottles, candles (use black ones for protection or you can substitute them with white candles as long as you set the intention of protection into them), drawing a pentagram on the roof of your mouth with your tongue and many more. Just use whatever works for you and your practice!

Banishing

Banishing is the act of getting rid of something, Not just repelling it. Most commonly it’s used to get rid of entities that try to attach themselves to you or enter your space but it can also be used to get rid of baneful workings, unwanted spell work results etc. This works for me (for entities) but may not for others: Opening a door or window and telling the entity to leave while shoving it out pretty much.

Extras

- Research closed practices. Learn why they are closed, who they are closed to, what practices are closed etc so you don’t unintentionally/accidentally appropriate a practice. Note: You shouldn’t be doing/using things from closed practices if you are not a part of them.

- Have a grimoire or book of shadows. A book of shadows/grimoire is basically a journal of all the knowledge you have learned throughout your practice. It’s a place you can find answers from or just give yourself a refresh on a topic. It’s like when you would write down everything you learnt in class.

- Meditation is the basis of everything. You need to be grounded and you need to be in tune with yourself for things like divination (as one example) to go smoothly. Try different methods of meditation, Find out what works for you. For example, I struggle to meditate unless the room is pitch black, there is no noise and I am laid down. Other people may benefit more from things like guided meditations which you can easily find on YouTube.

- Be careful of what information you take from social media. Always properly research a subject, cross reference resources and make sure the source is not problematic. Unfortunately, I have seen a lot of misinformation and potentially harmful activities being promoted on platforms such as tik tok.

🌷Recommended YouTubers 🌷

Below is a list of YouTubers that I would personally recommend for useful information:

- The Witch of Wonderlust (Great source of information for beginners. Has plenty of videos to do with cleansing, protection and banishing. One of my go tos for witchy content.)

- The Norse Witch (Has plenty of information for beginners as well as additional information about Norse Paganism if that’s an interest. Occasionally does unboxings for witchcraft subscription boxes if you are interested in those.)

- The witches cookery (Has a great playlist called “Witchcraft 101” which has some great “how to” and “witchy tips” videos. Also features a lot of information for kitchen and green witches.)

Side note: There are probably more content creators out there that are worth recommending but I rarely use YouTube anymore so I’m not too up to date on witchy channels on there.

Sorry this post took me so long to write, I’ve had a lot going on in my personal life today that I’ve had to prioritise. I hope this helps even a little! 💕

Tip-Jar and Readings

[justsleepybeans]

The Lion's Chain —★

Marcus Acacius x Reader

18+ NSFW Blood, Death, Gore

Series Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/justsleepybeans/769641339957755904/the-lions-chain-masterlist?source=share

— ☆ —

Chapter 2 : Fight

Macrinus’s voice boomed above the murmurs of the gathered gladiators. “Now. The Emperor doesn’t want a scandal.”, he says as his eyes roam over to you. “Geta won’t have a woman fighting alone. Zarus, you’ll fight with her. The beasts were one thing, but you will now be facing a man.”

Your head snapped toward Zarus before you could stop yourself, the defiant part of you itching to protest. But the towering man already looked unimpressed, his arms crossed as he leaned lazily against the stone wall.

“I don’t fight with dead weight,” he muttered, his accent thick.

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back. Zarus straightened, his dark eyes narrowing, but Macrinus’s barked order interrupted the brewing tension.

“Enough. You fight together, or you don’t fight at all. And we all know what that means.”

The unspoken threat hung heavy in the air. Refusing a fight wasn’t an option if you wanted to live long enough to kill Geta with your bare hands. 

Zarus grunted, pulling a blade from the weapons rack and inspecting its edge. “Try not to get me killed out there,” he said without looking at you.

The gates groaned open, and the roar of the crowd made your migraine feel as if it were splitting your skull. You gripped the hilt of your sword tighter than you intended, though it somewhat helped with the pain. Side by side, you and Zarus stepped into the blinding light, the roar of thousands shaking the ground beneath your feet.

Across the arena, your opponent emerged—a Roman gladiator, every inch of him a polished weapon. This wasn’t a gladiator like you or Zarus, someone fighting for survival. He fought for glory, for Rome.

“Do not rush onto him. Do not challenge him until he challenges you.”, you say to Zarus, giving the advice which has kept you alive for so long.

“I do not listen to women.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “So be it.”

The Roman gladiator strode forward, his polished armor glinting in the sun, each movement deliberate and calculated. The crowd roared his name, their voices blending into a deafening chant that only seemed to put your head on the verge of bursting. He stopped a few paces away, raising his sword to you. Just you.

Beside you, Zarus tightened his grip on his weapon, a sound of disapproval coming from him, seeing as the Roman seemed to favor you for the fight. “Stay out of my way,” he said, his tone low and dismissive.

“You are not wise,” you say back, your voice calm, despite your irritation and the pain surging through your head.

The Roman moved first, lunging toward Zarus with terrifying speed. Steel met steel in a clash that reverberated through the arena. Zarus blocked the initial strike, his strength evident as he forced the Roman back a step.

You held your ground, circling carefully as the fight unfolded. Zarus fought fiercely, but his recklessness showed. He pushed forward, swinging heavy blows that the Roman dodged easily. You could see it—the small openings in Zarus’s form. The Roman could have landed a final blow already if he wanted to.

The Roman’s sword flashed, slicing through the air toward Zarus’s exposed side. You moved without thinking, your body reacting faster than your mind. Your blade intercepted the strike, the impact jarring your arm but saving Zarus from a deep wound.

He shot you a glare, anger flickering in his eyes. “I don’t need your help.”

“No?” you snapped, stepping back into position. “Then stop being an easy target.”

The Roman didn’t give you time to argue further. He turned his focus to you, his movements as smooth as a cobra’s strike. You parried his blow, your footing steady on the blood-stained sand. He was stronger, but you were faster, and you used it to your advantage, dodging his heavy strikes and looking for an opening.

High above the chaos of the arena, Marcus sat in his seat. The embroidered hem of his white tunic swayed lightly in the breeze, but his hands, clutching the golden armrests, betrayed a faint tension. He was surrounded by power—Emperor Geta, lounging lazily in his gilded chair with a goblet of wine in hand; his brother, Emperor Caracalla, seated beside him, his gaze fixed on the fight below. To their left, Macrinus muttered something to a senator, their voices drowned out by the thunderous cheers of the crowd.

Marcus’s attention, however, was locked on the sand below, on you. His jaw tightened ever so slightly as his eyes followed you, your movements precise, calculated. You’re smaller, lighter than the Roman fighter, but there was a sharpness to your movements that forced his eyes to stay on you.

“She moves well,” Caracalla remarked, his tone carrying a hint of amusement as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I should make her my personal guard.”

“She’s reckless,” Geta interjected, waving a hand dismissively. “The Roman will have her on her knees in moments.” Though a part of Geta wants to see you live another day. A part of him wanted to see you in many ways.

Marcus said nothing, though his chest tightened at Geta’s words. He couldn’t explain it, even to himself, but the thought of you losing—of you falling, bleeding, lifeless on the sand—sent a strange wave of unease through him.

Your blade clashed against the Roman’s once more, the sound sharp and metallic, echoing up to the booth. You were holding your own, even compensating for the towering fool beside you, Zarus, whose brute force made him an easy target.

“Zarus is dragging her down,” Macrinus muttered, his sharp eyes narrowing as he watched.

Marcus remained silent, his gaze unwavering. He didn’t care about Zarus. His concern—if he dared to call it that—was for you. Watching you fight, something deeper stirred within him, an instinct he didn’t understand.

You wouldn’t surrender, that much was clear. But sheer will wouldn’t be enough if the Roman found his mark.

Geta chuckled suddenly, drawing Marcus’s attention. “Ah, General, you look tense. Worried for the little gladiatrix?”

“I’m observing,” Marcus replied smoothly, his tone neutral. “Nothing more.”

Geta smirked, clearly unconvinced, but he let it drop, returning his focus to the fight below.

Marcus turned his attention back to you just in time to see you step into the Roman’s space, your sword narrowly grazing his side. The crowd erupted, a mix of cheers and jeers filling the air. You were holding your ground, though Marcus could see the strain in your movements. You couldn’t keep this up forever, not with Zarus’s incompetence splitting your focus. You stumbled back for a moment, your free hand coming up to your face, holding it in pain. You weren’t injured there, yet you held yourself as if in pain, he thought to himself. Marcus didn’t understand.

Your skull felt as if it were going to split in two.

He didn’t want you to lose, an unfamiliar weight settling in his chest. It wasn’t just about the fight or the crowd’s entertainment. There was something about you—about the way you refused to yield, even when every card was stacked against you—that demanded survival.

Even if it meant you killed one of Rome’s own. He didn’t care. In fact, he wanted to see you strike him down.

The Roman ignores you for a moment, dismissing you as little more than an afterthought compared to the brute Zarus, who charges at him with reckless force. You’ve fallen to your knees, clutching your head as if it might split apart, your sword slipping from your trembling hand and sinking into the sand.

From the booth, Marcus feels his pulse quicken. The sight of you crumpled on the ground strikes a nerve he doesn’t understand, tightening something deep within him. He hates every moment of this.

“Get up. Come on,” Macrinus mumbles under his breath, his sharp eyes locked on you. It’s almost a whisper, but Marcus catches it. He thinks the same words, though he doesn’t dare speak them aloud.

The Roman gladiator doesn’t even glance at you, his focus entirely on Zarus, whose brute strength is as wild as it is unfocused. For a brief moment, the brute appears to have the upper hand, forcing the Roman to step back under the onslaught of blows. But then it happens—an opening, small but deadly.

The Roman moves in the blink of an eye, his blade driving deep into Zarus’s throat. The force of the blow sends Zarus stumbling, his hands instinctively clutching at the gaping wound as his body crumples to the sand, the dark crimson painting it below.

The crowd erupts, some in cheers, others in discontent. Zarus convulses once before falling still, his blood pooling beneath him.

Marcus’s gaze flicks to you. You’re still on your knees, one hand pressed to your temple as if trying to hold yourself together. The Roman finally turns his attention to you, his blade now glistening with Zarus’s blood.

“Get up!” Marcus’s mind screams the words, his knuckles turning white as he grips the edges of the armrests.

“On your feet, damn it,” Macrinus mutters again, louder this time, his voice carrying urgency.

The Roman advances toward you, like a lion closing in on a gazelle. The crowd roars louder, sensing the kill. Marcus’s jaw tightens, his nails now digging into his palms. He knows what’s expected—to let this play out as it will, for the entertainment of the masses. But watching you kneel there, vulnerable and exposed, something feral stirs in him. 

You reach for your sword, your hand trembling as your vision blurs. The pounding in your skull refuses to tone down even in the slightest, but you force yourself to breathe through it, to push past the agony. You can’t fall here—not like this, not today. Not while Geta lives.

The Roman raises his blade, the sun catching its edge. 

The crowd’s roar grows as you rise unsteadily to your feet. Marcus leans forward, his heart pounding as he watches you finally stand. 

“Good...good girl….Gods..”, he says, just above a whisper, feeling relieved you finally moved, but still on a dangerous edge. No one heard his words, but by the Gods, he couldn't care less at this moment.

The world around you spins for a moment, as if the air itself is bending and distorting. A vision seizes you—an overwhelming sensation of heat, dryness, and isolation. The world is barren, nothing but grey sand and a grey sky that stretches endlessly above you.

Far in the distance, a figure moves. A man. His shape is indistinct, blending into the horizon, but you hear his voice—a faint whisper on the wind.

"Fight."

The word is an echo, an undeniable command that claws at your very soul. Your grip tightens around your sword, the weight of it grounding you. The vision fades, leaving nothing but an emptiness in its wake. But the voice lingers, pressing you forward.

The Roman steps toward you, his blade raised. You snap back to the present, the world around you as brutal and real as it’s ever been. Pain shoots through your skull, but you barely register it. This is a moment of clarity, a split-second of understanding—of knowing exactly what you need to do.

The Roman charges. You watch him, his every movement, every breath, as if in slow motion. You see the pattern, the predictable arc of his strike. He’s not the first opponent you’ve faced, and he won’t be the last.

His sword comes down with brutal force, aimed at your shoulder. A fatal strike, if it lands. But you don’t retreat. You don’t flinch. Instead, you step into it, moving in such a way that his blade misses by a hair, grazing your arm instead of cutting deep. The pain is sharp but irrelevant.

Before he can recover, you twist, your body moving with absolute precision. With one fluid motion, you shift your weight, using your sword to deflect his incoming blow while simultaneously slamming the heel of your boot into his shin. The sickening crack echoes across the arena as his leg gives way, sending him falling down onto the sand with a heavy thud.

He’s still trying to regain his footing, but you’re already on him. The Roman raises his blade in a last desperate attempt to defend himself, but it’s too slow. 

Ameatur.

You take a step to the side, your sword raised, ready to fly.  With one fluid strike, you slice across his ribs, the blade cutting through flesh and bone. He gasps, blood spilling from his mouth as he tries to lift his sword in one final act of defiance. But you’re already there, faster than his body can react.

You press the flat of your blade against his throat, pinning him to the ground, the weight of your foot on his chest. The crowd falls silent, the only sound is the labored rasping of his breath.

Your initial thought is to sever his windpipe, deciding against taking him out without brutality, but…the memories of the Romans killing your people come flooding into your head. In a swift motion, you take your blade off his throat, then in an instant, you plunge it deep into his mouth, only stopping when you feel the tip dig into the sand down below his head. 

The silence in the arena stretches, heavy and thick. You stand over him, your breath steady, the weight of the moment crashing down on you. 

From the royal booth, Marcus watches, his eyes narrowing as he processes what just happened. The brutal efficiency with which you took down the Roman, the way you moved—there was no hesitation, no mercy. Just calculated, brutal precision.

However, you were not done.

Geta’s eyes lock with yours—cold, unblinking—and you refuse to look away. The bloodlust still courses through you, urging you to finish what you’ve started. With grim determination, you hook your fingers under the Roman gladiator’s top teeth, sinking deep into his jaw. The resistance, the bone and muscle fighting back, only fuels you. You won’t stop.

With every ounce of strength, you tear upward. It’s slow, agonizingly so, the grinding of bone and flesh filling your ears, but finally, with one last brutal yank, the top half of his head rips free. The sickening pop echoes through the arena as his golden locks fall away, drenched in his own blood.

You rise to your full height, holding the Roman’s head by the strands of his hair, the blood dripping from your fingers like a twisted trophy.

Your eyes move to Marcus now, locking with his in a way that feels almost deliberate. Without breaking the connection, you raise the severed head, offering it as a symbol of your victory, a challenge.

The crowd erupts, their cheers and jeers an indistinct blur. What matters now is Marcus—the way his gaze falters for just a moment, and then tightens with an unreadable intensity. His expression betrays a mixture of shock, admiration, and something more, something that feels dangerously close to arousal, though he doesn’t acknowledge it, not even as his cock twitches under his tunic.

His breath hitches, his posture shifts slightly, and you see it—something in his eyes flickers, an awareness that wasn’t there before. He’s impressed, yes, but there’s an edge to it, a wariness he tries to mask behind his usual composure. And yet, the undeniable tension in the way he watches you speaks volumes.

For a fleeting moment, the air between you thickens, charged with something far more primal than the fight below.

You lower the head, your breath steady despite the weight of the moment. It’s done. You’ve won.

But it’s far from over.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

I have covid (for the first time ever wtf) and I’m feeling sick and pathetic. Just thinkin’ bout how I have to take care of myself and I hate it. How do you think sugar daddy Joel would take care of our sugar baby reader without spending any money if she got Covid or the flu??

I need some fluff to get me thru. PS I love u and your writing so flipping much.

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of illness, reader can eat chicken noodle soup, reader has hair that can be brushed away from her face

Timeline: this does not fit into the current TCOY story line and is just a separate drabble in the same universe!

[a/n: first of all, OH NO. I know how bad COVID sucks. (fun fact I've had it on five separate occasions, I basically collect a new round of it every time a new strain runs through our hospital). Please please please make sure you stay hydrated above all else! Obviously I don't know your medical history, but the best general advice is to not get dehydrated. Your body needs fluids to fight the good battle. second, I love YOU and I know this isn't much and it's not that great b/c I threw it together in fifteen minutes but I hope it makes you feel a little better, my love💜]

TCOY DRABBLE:

HOMEMADE IS BETTER THAN STORE BOUGHT

"happiness is homemade."

“Baby girl, I need you to sit up for me.” Joel hummed.

You were buried in the thick comforter of his bed feeling absolutely miserable. The cold had come on suddenly. A small cough, more irritating than anything else, spiraled into full body aches, a splitting migraine, and congestion so bad that it felt like your head was filled with concrete. Joel’s heavy hand brushed aside the hair matted to your forehead with dried sweat. Your fever was lingering last Joel checked, but the Nyquil he forced you to take with a bottle of water earlier was helping some.

Joel murmured your name once more and you just moaned in response. You felt the bed dip with his weight and his hand dragged up and down your back. The motion brought with it a comfort on par with medication itself. 

“You think you can eat somethin', sugar?” Joel asked.

“Maybe later.” You mumbled. “Sleepy.”

“That’s probably the Nyquil.” Joel replied. “I sent Riley to pick up some stuff from the store.”

You felt Joel lean over and his lips brushed against your temple. You shook your head, “You’re gonna get sick. I should quarantine alone.” You buried yourself deeper into his bed. With your nose stuffed like it was, you couldn’t smell his sheets and that bothered you more than it probably should’ve. “Don’t you have that meeting today too?”

“If you think I’m leavin' you like this, sugar, then that fever’s got you delusional.” Joel snorted. You felt the covers you had bundled yourself in begin to untangle and a whine that could only be described as pathetic slipped your lips. Before you knew it though, Joel was under the thick comforter with you and you felt yourself get pulled into his warm chest. “C’mon, baby girl. Sleep it off.”

You snuggled closer into his grip and focused on the random patterns he was rubbing on your shoulder with his hand. As a human, this was obviously not the first time you had gotten sick, but something about this time felt different. With Joel’s thick arms wrapped around you it dawned on you that it was him. The last time you were sick you were forced to take care of yourself and work through it. Having your sugar daddy around made you needy as all hell it seemed, but the comfort Joel immediately showed you had you melting against his chest.

“When I wake up, can I have soup?” You blurted the words out, half asleep.

Before sleep took you completely, you heard Joel’s deep chuckle, felt it rumble against you, “Sugar, you can have anythin' you want.”

When you woke up, you did feel marginally better. Joel was no longer in bed with you and you slowly sat up to rub at your face. You craved a hot shower to wash off the sweat and open your sinuses a bit more. A groan left your lips, still feeling crummy, and you began to climb out of bed.

“Whoa, whoa, pump the brakes.” Joel called out. He came into the room holding a tray and you chuckled at the sight of him. He set the tray down on the nightstand to usher you back into bed. “Where do you think you’re goin'?”

You gave him a tired smile, “Shower. I feel icky.”

“Icky?” Joel asked and you nodded. He chuckled and leaned forward to press his lips on your forehead again. He sat back and rubbed a hand against your leg. “Think you can stomach somethin' first?” You nodded again and Joel grabbed the tray. It looked like a bowl of chicken noodle soup, but not the kind that came out of a can of Campbell’s. “Here we go.”

You tilted your head, “Where’d you buy the soup?”

“Didn’t.” Joel grinned. “Made it.”

“You made it??”

“Uh huh.” It was honestly adorable how proud he looked of it. “Homemade is better than store bought, right? Gets you better quicker.”

You laughed, “I’m not so sure about the science behind that.”

“No, no. When I googled the recipe it definitely said this would get you better faster.” Joel teased.

You picked up the spoon and carefully blew the heat away before bringing it to your lips. The first thing you tasted was salt. A lot of salt. Too much salt. You coughed in response and tried not to twist your face to reveal the reaction. You cleared your throat and smiled, “Yum.”

Joel furrowed his brow, “What’s wrong? No good?”

“No. It’s⏤ It’s good.” You said quickly. “It’s… I like the, uh, the…” 

Joel grabbed the spoon from your fingers to take a sip himself and he immediately spluttered with a cough and groan, “What the fuck is that?” Your lips twitched up into another smile. “That tastes awful. Jesus Christ. Gimme that.”

He took the tray from you and set it on the nightstand again away from you. You set a hand on the side of your face while watching his face crumple into a grumpy look of annoyance. You shook your head, “What did it taste like as you were making it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. While you were making it did it taste okay?” You clarified. Joel narrowed his eyes at you in thought and you tilted your head. “…Did you taste it while making it?”

“You’re supposed to eat it while you make it??”

You laughed, “Not eat. Just taste.”

“Shit.” Joel scoffed. “I ate some of the chicken and it was good.” You reached out and cupped his face. He looked annoyed with himself, but at your touch the grumpy demeanor morphed into a soft look of concern and disappointment. Joel sighed and turned his head to press a kiss to your palm before leaning into your touch again. “I’m so sorry, sugar. Just wanted to do somethin' nice for you myself rather than just buy…”

You shook your head, “This was nice. I loved it.”

“There is no way you loved that soup. It was just salt, damn it.”

“No, but I love that you tried.” You replied. “It’s the effort that counts.”

“That’s just what people say when they fuck up.” He grumbled.

You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, “You said the homemade version would make me feel better, and this has definitely made me feel better, daddy.”

Joel wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and stared softly for a moment before his smile returned. “You missed my lips, sugar.”

“I already told you. I’m icky.”

“Don’t care. Still want you.”

“You are already pushing your luck.” You scoffed in amusement. “You are gonna end up sick.”

Joel pulled you closer, and even at full strength you’d never be capable of refusing this man. He paused with his lips just barely touching yours. “I’ll risk it.” Joel’s lips sealed against yours tenderly. A soft kiss of comfort rather than of passion. A wordless act of reassurance that he was there. Joel’s tongue just barely brushed against yours before he leaned back and left you wanting more. He hummed, “You taste like salt.”

“Yeah, gee, I wonder whose fault that is.”

[blossomwritesthings]

Hyunjin sickfic when. *folds arms waiting patiently* 🤭

I love your writing sm I’m gonna cry

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 ��𝐨

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. hospital visit. this one's got angst in it. reader is sick (with a sprained ankle). hyunjin is worried af, as he should be lmao. reader has low self-esteem w/her dancing abilities, and has difficulty opening up about how she truly feels. pet names (affectionately). toothe-rotting fluff.

word count: 6.3k (yikes got carried away with this one wtf)

summary: it's been proving to be very difficult to keep the dance class that you take three times a week a secret from your boyfriend hyunjin. and the lies only become even harder to tell when you suddenly hurt your foot during class one night.

a/n: originally, i was planning on posting this yesterday as a kind of valentine's day gift for you guys, but then uni homework raw-dogged me like a total bitch and i got fucked over with a horrible migraine later in the night... i love my life!!! 😊 anyways, this was really fun to write- i FUCKING ADORE SOFT HYUNJIN!!! 😭 thanks for requesting, @hyungenie5... i hope this little piece of writing is to your liking, and thanks for your support~ 🤍

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The dance class was supposed to remain a secret. No one - not even your boyfriend Hyunjin - was supposed to know that you were taking it until it was long over in the summer. By the end of the class, you hoped that your skills would improve immensely and that you’d be able to join your boyfriend in the studio some time to dance with him. 

 But unfortunately, those grand plans all came to a halt late one Friday night. 

 When you were practicing a certain twirl that had been giving you a hard time for the past week. For some reason, one of the laces of your sneakers had come undone. And this prompted you to trip over it when you suddenly came out of the spin. 

 You landed on the ground in a heap of limbs, clenching down hard on your jaw at the feel of a sharp pain shooting through your left ankle. The ache was agonizing, and it took everything in you to not scream out in anguish at the feeling that had quickly exploded inside your ankle. 

 Soon, your classmates rushed over and helped you off of the floor and onto a nearby bench, where your teacher took a look at your foot.

 “It doesn’t look too bad, it’s just a bit swollen from the impact,” she said, peering up at you, a sheen of sweat glistening across her exposed forehead. It was sweltering in the practice room at the gym where you were taking the lessons, and everyone crowding around you was out of breath from the routine that the class had been practicing tirelessly for the last month or so. “I’d advise you to keep off of it as much as you can for the next few days and ice it every night. Don’t come into class Monday and instead give it a rest, and it should be better by the next session on Wednesday.” Your teacher instructed you, before giving your knee a gentle squeeze and going back to a group of students who needed her advice on a certain move. You had class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday late in the night, but surprisingly, the sessions were always packed with wannabe dancers, even late into the night. It just proved how many people desperately wanted to become better dancers. And you were one of those ‘people.’ 

 “Can you make it to your car alone?” One of your classmates asked. You looked up at Yejun, offering her a smile that quickly turned into a grimace of pain. You had met her soon after you started the class, and the two of you had grown closer over the past few months. 

 But no one knew who you were dating - who your boyfriend of three years was. They couldn’t know, otherwise, that would jeopardize everything Hyunjin did for work and your entire livelihood. So, you mostly stayed silent about the intimate details of your personal life with everyone else and opted to talk about the surface-level things in your life.

 “Yeah, I don’t think I can do it,” you laughed in a humorless kind of way. Without another word, Yejun was picking up the large duffle bag that you always brought with you to practice. Then, she was slipping an arm around your waist and leading you out of class and through the spacious gym. It was still relatively busy even for it being so late in the night on a Friday.

 “You promise that you’re gonna rest?” She rose a black, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way as you shuffled out of the main doors of the gym. 

 And even though you had only known her for a few months, she could get a pretty good read on you. How you didn’t like asking people for help and how you tended to bottle things up all of the time. You had done such a thing since you were a very little girl, and you supposed there was no changing the way your mind was built. Even still, this aspect of your personality drove Hyunjin insane. He’d pry and pry and pry for you to tell him what was truly wrong with you, and it’d take more than just a few kisses and gentle words to finally get you to talk. It didn’t matter who you were with - who you were talking to - you just… couldn’t talk about really personal stuff most of the time. 

 “Yeah, yeah- I’ll rest all this weekend.” You rolled your eyes at Yejun as you stopped just in front of your car. You pulled out your keys, unlocking the doors before throwing your duffle bag into the backseat. 

 “Okay, well… drive safe and take it easy, yeah?” She mumbled, pulling you into a gentle hug, and you gave her a quick pat on the back before pulling away. “See you on Wednesday?” 

 You flashed her a playful wink, “Sure thing!” You waved her off as you slipped into the driver’s seat of your car. Your friend returned the gesture before she turned around and jogged back into the gym. 

 As soon as she was out of sight, you let out the moan of misery that you had been holding in for the last few minutes. The pain seemed to shoot through your ankle in quick increments, traveling up the length of your leg and pooling in your knee. 

 Holding onto the steering wheel with a death-like grip, you took a few deep breaths. The ache wouldn’t be this bad forever. You just needed to ice it. Just follow what your teacher told you to do, and you’ll be fine. You said all of these things and more to yourself inside your head as you turned your key in the car's socket and the car’s ignition roared to light. 

 Just get home and get in bed, and then everything will be alright. 

 But everything was not alright. 

 This was made so apparent when you stood in front of your apartment door and the remembrance dawned on you that Hyunjin had the entire weekend off. So that meant that he would be home earlier than he usually would be on a Friday night. And since it was a quarter-past-eleven at night, he was sure to be home.

 Fuck. 

 It had already been an entire production getting out of your car and into your apartment’s elevator, what with your limping form and all. But now you had to face your very own boyfriend, who wasn’t even aware that you were taking a dance class in the first place. You wanted it to be a surprise for him. You had always been self-conscious about your dance skills ever since you were a little girl. 

  And then you went ahead and started dating one of the best dancers in all of the Kpop industry. As a consequence, your self-esteem in the dancing department tanked astonishingly low. You’d regularly join Hyunjin in the studio late at night at the company, and sometimes he’d try to teach you some of Stray Kids choreo. But most of the time, you made a complete fool of yourself, and instead opted to just watch him from the sidelines. Watch in silence, offering praise when you could, about how perfect his angles were, how amazing his technique was, and how his flow and rhythm were impeccable with the music. 

 Meanwhile, deep inside your mind, you were playing the same thought over and over again; why can’t you just be a better dancer like him? Why can you just not suck at it, for once in your damn life? He probably thinks your horrible, and he’s right… no wonder why he stopped offering you teach you. 

 But in the new year, finally feeling fed up from always feeling shitty when your boyfriend would show you a video of his dance practices, or when you’d watch him in the studio, you decided to sign up for the beginner's contemporary dance class at your local gym. 

 It was daunting, at first, to go by yourself without knowing anyone there, but soon, you got used to the feeling and genuinely started to enjoy your time spend in the studio. It was hard work, that was for sure, but you liked the idea of finally finishing it in the early spring and then surprising your amazingly-talented dancer boyfriend with the choreo that you had learned and practiced tirelessly for the past few months, unbeknownst to him. 

 To keep the class a secret from Hyunjin, you had lied and told him that you were going to the local gym and lifting weights. And it wasn’t a complete lie, because technically, you were at the gym. You just weren’t lifting any weights. 

 Nevertheless, Hyunjin had been hesitant about the idea. Especially since you would be coming and going so late at night. At first, he had protested against it because of how many creeps could be hanging around the gym that late at night. He didn’t want you willingly putting yourself in any danger from being out so late alone. But, after much negotiation and pleading on your part, you had managed to convince him to be okay with it. And then, you were off… attending the class three times a week and absorbing the lessons like a little ocean sponge out in deep sea waters. 

 You gathered up all of the courage you still had inside of you as you shuffled across the apartment’s threshold. A couple of the lights were left on in the living room, and dim classical music was filtering out through the nearby room to the right of you. Hyunjin’s art studio. The two of you had chosen this specific apartment to rent out because it offered two bedrooms, and the space that he wanted to make his office had an amazing, large bay window that showcased a huge portion of Seoul's cityscape. The view in there was breathtaking and was the key inspiration for a lot of his recent art pieces. 

 A sigh of relief fled from your lips as you dropped your duffle bag down on the nearby dining room table and made to get some ice for your foot. Your entire body was sticky from your dried sweat, and you longed to hop into the shower for a nice cool-off. Just as soon as you ice your ankle. 

 Just as you were filling up a small plastic bag of ice, you heard a door open behind you. Then, in a few beats, you felt two long arms wrap around your waist from behind. If you weren’t in so much pain at that moment, you would’ve been happy to feel Hyunjin’s presence at your back. But mostly, you just felt exhausted and irritable. And these were two things that didn’t mix well together.

 “Welcome home, sweetheart,” he muttered, as he leaned down with his tall frame to pepper gentle kisses against your shoulder. “How was your workout?” 

 “Fine, I guess.” You said in a slightly-dismissive tone, as you finished filling up your baggie with ice. 

 “And why in the world are you filling up a plastic bag with ice?”

 Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his question. Because in your state of discomfort and exhaustion, you hadn’t thought out the lie that you would have to tell him for why you could barely fucking walk. And you definitely couldn’t tell him to the extent that the pain was at. But there was no getting around the fact that you had hurt yourself, so better to tell a small white lie than ignore it entirely. 

 “I, uh- kinda hurt my foot when I was working out with weights tonight, but I’m okay.” You said, trying to keep your voice light and airy. 

 Immediately as the words fell from your lips, Hyunjin was turning you around. His eyes raked over your face, assessing your neutral expression before flitting down to the rest of your body. Like he’d be able to see any other injuries you hadn’t told him about if he looked hard enough. 

 “Are you sure you’re okay?” His brows were furrowed in worry, the concern blatantly shining in his dark brown eyes. His fingers brushed across your cheek, before tucking a few stray, sweaty strands of your hair behind your ear. 

 You gave him a soft smile, leaning up to ruffle his fluffy, peachy-pink hair a little bit. “Yes babe, I’m fine.” 

 “Then, you should rest and use the ice pack.” 

 You gave him a sardonic grin, “That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped my plans and started to grill me with questions.” 

 He slipped his arms from your hips and reluctantly stepped away from your frame to allow you space to continue your routine. But not before he leaned down into you with his towering form and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. And if your foot didn’t currently hurt like a bitch, you probably would’ve melted into his embrace and let him hold and kiss you for a long time after that. Instead, you just felt like a sweaty ball of painful shit and wanted to hop into bed as soon as possible. 

 “I’ll be in my office if you need anything…” Hyunjin’s delicate voice stayed with you in the kitchen, as he trekked back to the door to his office. 

 You quickly grabbed a kitchen dish towel to use to wrap around your bag of ice. “Alright. I’m going to take a quick shower and then head to bed.” 

 “I’ll be there in a little while,” your boyfriend said, and when you looked up at him, he was giving you this sweet, pure look of devotion. But it was also mixed with a tad bit of unease. He never did like the idea of you being injured in any way. “Try to get some rest, yeah?” 

 “Sure, baby,” you flashed him a wink, “but only if you come to bed relatively early tonight.” It seemed like he was always slipping into bed late these days… curling up behind you well past three in the morning. He proclaimed that it was only because inspiration struck him the strongest late into the night, and while you weren’t one to stand between an artist and their craft, there had to be a better solution for inspiration than ruining his entire sleep schedule.

 “I'll sure try, sweetheart.” Hyunjin’s soft voice followed behind you, as you made your way to your shared bedroom. 

 At least you weren’t the only one who told lies in the relationship. 

 The next day, your foot hurt like a literal bitch all day long. The pain wasn’t too bad after you first woke up, and upon icing it for a little while, it felt somewhat better. But then you went about the apartment doing the chores that you usually did every Saturday, and the discomfort returned tenfold. 

 At one point, it was so bad that when you sat down on the living room couch for a few minutes to give it a rest, you could barely get up again. And when you untucked your sock after lunch, you noticed how your left foot was looking a little… discolored. Some parts of your ankle were grayed, and a tiny bit of swelling was present too. But you had hurt it in dance, so that was to be expected. 

 You tried to hide the agony that you were in from your boyfriend, but being the perceptive man that he was, he automatically picked up on it. After all, he had become attuned over the years to understanding when you were feeling shitty since it took you so long to admit to him how you were feeling. Throughout the day, he’d ask you if you were okay and force you to sit down for a few minutes to ice the hurting foot. 

 But it was after dinner that he finally decided to put his foot down about the whole thing. He had dragged you over to the living room couch, practically throwing you onto the plush cushions before plopping down beside you. 

 “And what gives you the right to think you can throw me around like your own personal rag doll?” You asked, playfulness dripping from your tone. You turned to him and rose a quizzical eyebrow his way as he turned on the tv and flipped through Netflix to find a movie to watch. The usual thing that you two liked to do every Saturday night; was curl up on the couch and get all cozy with each other. The movie nights either ended in one of two ways, cuddling until you both fell asleep right then and there, or making out and soon traveling into the bedroom for a long night of fun. 

 “I’m forcing you to take a break, that’s what I’m doing,” he leveled you with a serious face, a slight frown pulling his mouth downwards. 

 You folded your arms across your chest defensively, “I don’t need a break, babe. I’m fine.” 

 “Oh yeah? Well then, I guess I’ve just been imagining all of the pained faces that you’ve been making all day, or that perpetual furrow in your brow that you always get when you’re holding something in?” Hyunjin said, voice completely flat. Just then he reached out to you, wrapping a long arm around your waist and yanking you close to his side before tucking a fuzzy blanket around the two of you. 

 “I’m not furrowing my brows.” You said defensively, even though you had given up on fighting him any longer. Honestly, you were a little too tired from all of the hurt and activity of the day to care. So you snuggled deeper against him, slinging your arms around his waist and breathing in his scent of fresh linen and sweet roses. “And besides, the apartment needed cleaning. A bad foot wasn’t going to stop me from completing my mission.” You had taken some pain medication soon after lunch, but since it was late into the night, it had worn off. You’d have to take some before you went to bed, but it didn’t seem to help that much, since you had still been in pain even after taking it in the middle of the day.

 “Just shut up and relax, will ya?” Your boyfriend all but grumbled, as he finally selected some random thriller to watch. You hid your smile behind your blanket as you felt him lean down and press a few kisses atop the crown of your head. “Just want you to feel better, my love…” 

 You turned your head up on his shoulder so that you were staring right into his expressive dark-brown eyes. “And I already do feel better just with your kisses alone.” A smirk spread across your mouth, as you leaned into him and your mouths met again in a soft kiss. 

 Your boyfriend motioned with his head to the flashing tv screen in front of the two of you, “Now, let’s focus on the movie so that you can get your mind off of the discomfort.” 

 A few giggles escaped from deep inside of you at his serious tone. He truly did care a lot about you and your well-being. And so that’s why you didn’t want to tell him how bad the pain was. Because you knew that as soon as you told him, he’d get himself all worked up into a tizzy and obsess over your health until you were back to one-hundred-and-twenty percent. Would practically nurse you back to health, ignoring all of his other duties at the company until he could confirm with his own two eyes that his girlfriend was feeling much better than before. 

 So you stayed silent, refraining from revealing to him how much agony you truly were in from your foot alone. You turned your attention to the movie in front of you. 

 And the feel of his long, muscular arms wrapped around your waist and squeezing slightly, the comforting sense of his warm body just beside yours, did wonders to the pain. It worked better than any of the medicine in the entire world, and you soon found yourself completely ignoring and forgetting the ache that was shooting through your foot and up into your veins and instead was basking in the feel and smell of your very loving boyfriend. 

 “Sweetheart, do you want to stop and take a rest for a minute?” Hyunjin asked you in a gentle voice the next day. What with it being Sunday and since the two of you were still off from work, you had decided to spend the day out on the town - shopping around. 

 You two had already eaten a sweet breakfast of pastries and coffee at a local cafe and were currently walking the streets of Hongdae, in search of a matching set of hoodies that fit both of your styles perfectly. So far, you had had no luck at the boutiques that you had already searched. The fuzzy hoodies were either too frilly or too plain...

 You shook your head vehemently, “No, I’m fine… don’t worry about me.” But you knew you telling him that would only make him worry even more. Since your foot only hurt even worse when you woke up early that morning. The pain throbbed up your leg now, and it felt like somehow was grasping harshly at your left ankle bone every time you walked on it, rattling the thing bitterly. 

 You were practically limping pathetically at your boyfriend's side, desperate hands clutching at his arm to stop you from completely toppling over into a pile of weak limbs right there. Because that’s what you were feeling at that exact moment; weak. 

 Hyunjin ran a frustrated hand through his peachy-pink locks, an exasperated sigh flooding from his lips, “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to us going out today-” He started to grumble beside you. 

 Just then, the two of you stepped over a particular area of sidewalk that was somewhat cracked in the middle. And of course, your left shoe - your bad foot - just had to get caught in the tiny space there. Immediately, your body hurled to the ground as you grasped for your boyfriend. Thankfully, he caught you just in time before you hit the asphalt, pulling you up onto your feet again. 

 And when you stood straight once more, the agony only intensified even more so. Feeling so overwhelmed by it, and so, so weary with sudden despair, a tiny cry escaped past your lips as your legs gave out from underneath you. Toppling onto the ground in a heap of exhaustion, the tears were freely flowing down your cheeks. 

 Hyunjin was already crouching at your side, one arm wrapped around your waist. “Darling, what’s wrong-” He began, the worry seeping from his tone. 

 “It’s hurts, Hyunjin… like, a lot…” You managed to get out in between your sobs. Your vision was blurry from your tears, cheeks warm to the touch at the embarrassment of feeling others' eyes on you as they passed by on the street. 

 But not another word needed to be spoken, as you were soon being lifted into your boyfriend’s arms. And a moment later, he was gently placing you down on a nearby bench. 

 He was then crouching in front of your feet, gently grasping at your left foot and holding it out to him slowly. “Can I take a look at it, sweetheart?” He asked you with all of the tenderness in the world. The look in his eyes then- one of pure apprehension and heartache did something funny to your heart and only made you cry even harder. You nodded your head in silent approval. 

 Heart beating wildly inside your chest, you waited, and watched in bated since, as your boyfriend gingerly slipped off your thin sneaker. With thin, nimble fingers, he slid your baby-blue sock down and off of your foot. 

 And the moment he saw what lay underneath, he gasped audibly. Your foot was steadily turning purple and blue and was swollen all around the ankle. Eyes completely focused on your foot, Hyunjin turned your foot from either side, inspecting it diligently. 

 Finally, after what felt like an eternity of looking at it, he stared up at you with wide eyes. The heartbreaking look in them told you all you needed to know- the way that his lips slightly fell open in his surprise, jaw clenching in anger. “B-Baby, has it looked like this since you got home from the gym on Friday?” His fingers gently swept over the bone that was slightly protruding out to the side near your ankle. 

 The tears had begun to slow down, leaving wet trails down either of your heated cheeks. Sniffling, you meekly nodded your head yes in answer. “Why? Is it that bad?” 

 A deep crease formed between his dark brows, and his blush-pink hair blew in the cool February breeze that suddenly swept across the streets at that moment. “Sweetheart, this looks really- really bad,” his eyes flitted down to your foot again, which he was still holding in one of his palms. “I���ve seen a lot of injuries, and I know the signs… honey, I think you’ve sprained it.” 

 Your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach. “W-What? But… how could that be? It’s not like I-” Your voice took on an incredulous tone, but before you could say anything else, your boyfriend was moving your foot again, turning it slightly so that he could slip your sock back on. You hissed in discomfort, biting down hard on your bottom lip to quell the moan that wanted to bubble up and out of you just then. The pain was unbearable. 

 Your boyfriend stood up from the ground, fitting two hands around your waist and helping you rise from the bench. He slipped an arm around your hips, securing you to his side as you slowly began to shuffle down the street, going backward from the way you had just come from. “C’mon, we gotta get you to the hospital.” He said, leading you two away from the shops that you had been at for the last few hours. 

 “Hospital? No- that’s not necessary, I just need to… rest at home, that’s all…” Your voice trailed off as another wave of pain throbbed through your tender foot. 

 Hyunjin leveled you with a glare. “It’s either you come with me willingly, or I carry you in my arms bridal style. Either way, you’re fucking going to the hospital.” The way he said the last of his words in that deathly-low tone sent a chill down your spine. Because you knew it all too well since he’d only use it on you when you were being particularly stubborn. And almost always, it was during a time when you weren’t taking any regard for your health, and Hyunjin had to force you to do the things necessary to practically stay alive. 

 “O-Okay…” You whispered. You struggled along beside him, fingers holding on tight to his thick brown winter jacket. “Just… don’t let go?” You stared up at him with big eyes, lip quivering a little bit from the pain of having to walk and put pressure on your bruised foot. 

 “Never, sweetheart.” He brought you closer to him then, practically wrapping both arms around your waist and helping you along the sidewalk as you slowly made your way back to his car. 

 “Well, you have a sprained ankle,” the nurse told you a few hours later. She was a rather short, petite-looking woman, with long, black hair swept up into a tight braid at the back of her head. “You’ll need to diligently rest for the next… four to six weeks. The doctor suggested using an ice pack for twenty minutes a few times a day, to help with the swelling.” 

 After you and Hyunjin had left Hongdae, it was only a matter of time before he found the nearest hospital and checked you into the Emergency Room there. After waiting for a little over an hour, you were finally called back into one of the exam rooms. It merely took the nurse and doctor one look at your ankle to confirm that it was sprained. After the doctor’s assessment, the nurse filed back into the room to hand you some paperwork to fill out. 

 During the entire visit, Hyunjin was sitting beside your hospital bed in a small chair, clutching onto your hand as you awaited the news of your diagnosis. He let out a sigh of relief at the news of it only being a sprain since he had been worrying that it was broken instead. 

 “And don’t walk on it,” the nurse continued, as she handed you a bottle of prescribed high-dosage pain medications. “I understand that it will be difficult to assimilate to a less active lifestyle for some time, but please remember that if you walk on it, doing so can put you at risk for horrible complications in the future and hinder you from achieving a full recovery.” 

 “I understand, thank you so much,” you said, giving her a soft smile as you fit the bottle of pain meds into your nearby purse. Your boyfriend was still clutching onto your hand, fingers squeezing a little too tightly as you positioned yourself back on the bed. 

 "I’ll give you two a few minutes, and then come back to assist you in checking out at the front desk.” The nurse returned your smile and bowed slightly at you and Hyunjin before making her way out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. 

 Immediately, your boyfriend turned to you with a deep frown. “And you’ve been walking on a sprained ankle for the past… three days.” He shook his head in disapproval, running a frantic hand through your hair. “Honestly, Y/N, I don’t understand why you do this to yourself- why you do it to me…” 

 Training your focus down at your lap, your fingers absently played with a loose strand from your thick winter sweater. “It’s not like I mean to not tell you stuff. It just… happens.” 

 “And you said you got this from lifting weights at the gym?” 

 His question forced your head to shoot up without you even thinking about it, eyes locking with his as he sat just beside you in his tiny vinyl chair. “Y-Yeah… I must’ve used the barbell wrong or something.” You laughed a little anxiously, heart beating painfully against your ribcage. 

 Because he couldn’t find out. It was downright embarrassing to think about him knowing you had been taking dance classes. But you also wanted to keep it a surprise for him, when you eventually performed your routine for him - not like that would happen anytime soon though, since you would be on bed rest for the foreseeable future. 

 Hyunjin brought his hand away from yours then, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly, crossing his legs together and giving you a knowing look. “I call bullshit. You don’t get a strained ankle from lifting a few pounds.” 

 “And how do you know that, mister?” 

 “Because I’ve seen the guys get injured from lifting before, but it never has to do with their ankles.” 

 “Well, maybe I’m the exception.” 

 “Cut the crap, sweetheart,” his voice came out a little cold just then, eyes raking over your form, studying your face to gauge your emotions at that moment. “Tell me what happened on Friday night.” 

 The embarrassment overtook you again, and you ripped your eyes from his. Focusing once more on your hands, you twisted the end of your sweater around your fingers. There wasn’t any use in keeping the ruse up any longer. It’s not like you’d be dancing the routine any time soon. So, you finally gave in and confessed to your boyfriend in a quiet mumble. 

 He leaned forward, tilting his body close to yours so that he could hear you better. “I didn’t hear that, love. Speak up.” 

 Clenching your fists in sudden annoyance, you stared at him, already feeling the crimson pooling in your cheeks. “I said- I was taking a dance class, okay?! And I fell and hurt my ankle- the instructor said it would be fine, but obviously, she isn’t a doctor…” 

 Silence filled the entire room after that, and it was charged with equal amounts of confusion and hurt. “Why in the world are you taking a dance class?” 

 “Because- I want to be good at dancing…” You exclaimed, staring into Hyunjin's eyes with what you hoped was a fierce expression. “I fucking suck at it- and- and you’re just so amazing, and I… I wanted to surprise you with a routine that I had learned all on my own. But then, I hurt myself, so that’s never gonna happen now.” 

 “Don’t say that.” 

 “Say what?” You canted your head to the side, watching as the emotions erupted across your boyfriend's face. First, it was anger, that you had kept such a secret from him for so long, then it was sadness, that you had felt the need to prove yourself in any way to him. 

 “Say that you suck at dancing,” he began, as he moved forward and clasped either of your hands in his. He brought them close to his mouth, lips hovering near your skin and pressing a few soft kisses to your knuckles. “You’re great at it, baby, don’t doubt yourself. And I was never amazing right off the bat. It took me a long time and lots of hard work to get where I am today.”

 “Yeah, but some people are just naturally born with it, and I don’t think I am. So… that’s why I was trying to improve.” You shrugged slowly, a zap of energy coursing through your veins each time Hyunjin pressed a fervent kiss against your hands. 

 “Well, I always think that improvement is good. But, there has to be a balance. You can’t simply ignore your health just because you want to get better at something.” Your boyfriend said in a calm voice, the warmth of it vibrating on your flesh and softening some hard part inside of you. “And besides, even if you weren’t born with the gift of dance - which I don’t believe to be true - there are still other gifts that you have that are unique and wonderful to you, baby. You shouldn’t compare yourself to me, or anyone else, for that matter.” 

 You gave him a frown, eyes locked on his mouth that kept nearing your knuckles and pressing kisses there. “I know, but… it’s just hard sometimes, you know? To be dating such a… talented man.” 

 A tiny sound of pain - of heartbreak - fled from Hyunjin’s mouth then, and suddenly, he was pulling you towards him. Fitting his arms around your waist, he squeezed on tight. In an instant, you melted into the touch, burrowing yourself into the crook of his neck and inhaling his calming, sweet scent. 

 “I’m so sorry that you’ve felt like this, sweetheart. I had no idea.” He mumbled close to your ear, imprinting a soft kiss against the exposed skin there. “How can I make it up to you, darling? How can I change things, so that you don’t think so poorly of yourself anymore?” 

 You positioned yourself away from him a tiny bit, offering him a light smile, “Babe, you don’t have to do anything for me. My low self-esteem when it comes to dancing isn’t your fault, so don’t worry about it.” 

 He leaned in, kissing your lips gently. “Yes, but I don’t like the thought of you feeling so down about your abilities…” his voice trailed off into silence, as he contemplated what he could do for you. “I know- I’m going to nurse you back to health, and when your ankle is completely healed, I’ll help you continue learning that dance routine from your class. How does that sound, love?” 

 You kissed him back, hot breaths mingling slightly in the passion of the moment. “I’d like that very much, but… don’t you have your schedules?” 

 Hyunjin waved a nonchalant hand in the air like he didn’t have so many people expecting high standards from him every single day. “I can still help you and do my job, baby- it isn’t rocket science.” 

 You contemplated his idea over in your head. You hadn’t liked him trying to teach you different dances in the past, but perhaps that was because of your issues and not because of his teaching. And now that your struggles with the thing were out in the open, you got the feeling that your boyfriend would be extra careful when teaching you - treat you extra gently when explaining certain moves. 

 “Okay, I like the idea,” you decided, nodding your head slowly in approval. A wide smile cracked across your lips as you stared at his face that was alight with happiness and contentment, “When do we start?” 

 “How does eight weeks from now sound? To give your ankle plenty of time to heal.” 

 Gently carding a few fingers through his light, peachy-pink silky locks, you bent into him, the smile still plastered onto your face as you gave his mouth another kiss which felt like the hundredth one in the last hour. “Sounds perfect.” You said, and soon he was smirking against your lips, before tightening his grip around your hips, yanking you ever closer to his form, and smashing his mouth against yours in a fiery, loving kiss. 

 Fin. 

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© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[blond3ang3l]

Gaz x reader angst

How did it possibly turn into a fucking hurricane of emotions?

Gaz came home up upset because of his teammates. The constant belittling of him and doubting of his abilities could only go on for so long before he eventually snapped. He could usually take it as a joke because he knew damn well he was a lot better than any of the team knew. But once Ghost made a comment to Soap about how “He’s surprised that Gaz is even part of team” something in him just couldn’t take it no more. For fuck sake he worked with the queen and they still think he’s just some amateur.

He couldn’t prove them by snapping at them. So what would he do to calm himself down? Well nothing good…

All you did was simply greet him when he came in. In return you got yelled at to get the fuck off his back and how he doesn’t need you bitching at him. You turned and looked at him like he had two heads. He must have lost his mind speaking to you that way.

“Excuse you?”

“Oh what now?! You to fucking dumb to understand what I’m saying?”

You laughed at him in disbelief it’s no way in the world he was talking to you that way. This set him off beyond belief. He got in your face screaming at you about how he bust his ass all day just for you to laugh at him. Of course you argued back telling him how he threw everything out of proportion.

It had been almost two hours and you’ve been arguing non stop. You had a pounding migraine and just threw you arms in the arm and told him you were done.

“Tsk of course you are that’s cause your weak if it weren’t for me who knows where you would be. Probably with that little bitch you dating before me”

You went silent as you looked at him in astonishment. He just had the audacity to throw your past in your face for no reason. And now you just both stood there looking at each other. He knew he fucked up but how pride was to big for him at the moment. You sucked your teeth and shrugged as you grabbed your phone and started walking to the door of your shared home.

“Who really knows, but I know one thing you got me mistaken with some other bitch right now.”

“Babe where are you going.”

He couldn’t believe that you were leaving but once he seen you step foot out the door his heart shattered.

“Don’t worry about me Kyle.”

“Kyle?”

“Mhm me and you we are done.”

“Babe wai-”

“Maybe you should take their advice Kyle, you still do act like a child.”

@silas-222

[mistyhollowcottage]

Saving Money as a Homemaker 🧺

I’ve posted before that we’re anxiously awaiting and preparing for our second baby and with that we’re focusing heavily on saving money! We have high hopes of buying first cars, paying for college, etc etc for both of our girls and despite the fact one is 18 months old and the other is still in utero, we know that the saving and preparing starts now. I do not bring in an income in our home but I do help manage the money my husband brings in and I work hard at making every dollar go as far as possible, so here are some things that make our money go further:

1. Eating at home - everyone gives this advice and it’s because it’s 100% true. You are literally throwing away money eating out and more and more the food that you buy at restaurants isn’t even that good. An easy way to make the switch is by making crockpot meals. Many are “dump and go” meals that require no skill and 9/10 you’ll even have leftovers for lunch the next day. Plus a crock pot is like $20-25 and they last forever.

2. Pay off existing debt - I’m not talking just your monthly minimums. If you have an extra $100 without a job in your monthly budget, it should go towards debt. Any extra you pay on your principal now is money you don’t have to pay in interest later. If you need more motivation for paying off your debt early, pull up a debt calculator and see how much in interest you’ll be paying before it’s all said and done. I promise you’ll get motivated real quick.

3. Create a budget!!! - if you are just floating through life, spending money willy nilly, I promise you don’t even realize how much money you’re just throwing away every month. I remember after I graduated from college and met my husband, we sat down to look at my finances together and I was legitimately embarrassed to see how much money I spent just getting coffee. I was spending a car payments worth on coffee every month and I literally was a barista. I could make that ish at home!! side note - "fun money" is a category you should have in your budget. You are bound to stumble if you aren't ever allowed to spend any money on yourself.

4. Determine what’s worth investing in and what’s not - for us this is list is pretty short. We invest in food and “clean” products. We eat and feel good on a high protein diet so we prioritize meat within our budget. Yes, there are plenty of cheaper plant protein sources, but that is not how we choose to fuel our bodies and it’s not how we feel best. But, more than just choosing to prioritize this financially, we prioritize the time it takes for my husband to go hunting to help save money on this as well. As far as “clean” products, I’m talking fragrance/toxin free shampoos, conditioners, cleaning supplies, etc. We’ll shop sales if one becomes available but we will not skimp with a $1 bottle of shampoo that will irritate my husbands skin or leave me with a migraine. This list will and should look different for every family but if you have your priorities clearly laid out there’s no room for convincing yourself that something not on this list is worth spending extra money on.

5. If you can make it at home, you should make it at home - cleaning products, food, gifts, home decor, all of it.

6. Thrift! But not as a hobby - I love thrifting and there’s a heck of a thrill in finding a beautiful ceramic mug or stumbling upon a cute sweater, but you’re not saving money like that. You should thrift for the things you need first and make sure to have a clear idea of what you’re looking for before going in. The thrift store should ideally be your first stop when looking to buy, but if you can’t find it after a bit of time looking, you’re not less than for having to buy new.

7. Borrow borrow borrow - sure, it’s kinda annoying to borrow other peoples stuff, but there’s really no reason to buy something you only need once or twice.

8. Learn to sew- I’ve had so many pieces of clothing rip at a seam and if I didn’t know how to stitch that back together, I’d have to throw it away and probably replace it (I’m looking you pockets on jackets). Instead, a five minute YouTube video has saved me, idk, probably at least $100.

9. Order your groceries online - this is probably very dependent on which grocers you have close to you, but ours still has online coupons and sales and it is an excellent way to make sure that you're sticking to your list. Plus, it's a godsend with little kids.

10. Finally, identify yours and your spouse's strengths and weaknesses - by this I mean, can you not help yourself from buying something if you go "just to look around" at your favorite shop? Does your husband add 47 unnecessary items to the grocery order anytime it's his turn to do the shopping? Whatever your individual money spending weakness are, identify those and help keep each other accountable or hand off the things that the other excels in so the temptation is just never there.

Happy money saving!

[sevenrenny]

Took ibuprofen at work cause I'm starting to feel the beginning of a migraine episode and I need to be able to drive myself home in two hours (no, no family member will help me with that, and public transit doesn't reach my area.)

Coworker saw me and proceeded to reprimand me for taking painkillers because "They're not good for you." She knows I have chronic migraine. I'm on preventative injections. They lessen the strength and frequency of the episodes but doesn't get rid of them entirely.

I reminded her I have chronic migraines. I don’t WANT to take pain meds to function but that's not my reality. She didn't back down, insisting it's bad for me to be medicated but doesn't give me a solution, she just wants to be right.

That's something I see a lot: folks pretending they know my chronic medical conditions better than I do.

I lost count how many times they tell me I pass out and have dry skin and dry eyes because I just don't drink enough water, and every single time I have to remind them I have a disorder that causes me malabsorption leading to dehydration. No matter how much water you think I need, it won't do anything.

Whatever advice you've thought of on the spot, I've already tried within all the years I've lived with my conditions.

I'm not in this crappy situation because I 'haven't tried' this or that, I'm in this crappy situation and I've exhausted all of my options and it is what it is.

[frederickkittens]

Day 17: how does accessibility / practicality impact my wardrobe?

Well…. I can’t wear skirts, flats or heels, and I always have to carry a large bag.

There’s other small things like not being able to wear headband style headpieces for very long due to them often triggering headaches and sometimes even migraines, so the clip style or tie is much prefered.

For skirts it’s half accessibility and half just… how I look. But gross tmi I bloat very badly due to medical issues and jsks + ops just don’t cause me the same pain and discomfort that skirts do when that happens. Elastic is my enemy I think.

Shoes I’m not too bothered with since I prefer the look of platforms anyways but it took me years to realize that the issue isn’t Lolita shoes it’s the fact I kept buying flat Lolita shoes or low heels thanks to everyone giving me the advice that those are “the most comfortable” even though rhs and other platforms for me lol! Glad I figured it out.

The large bag is just due to needing to always carry around a whole pharmacy and emergency stuff in my bag with me so little dainty cutesy bags just don’t really cut it for my needs. I do own a few plush bags but usually if I carry them I just use them as a decoration while carrying a tote bag or something as well. Tote bags are really my favorite kind of bag since they don’t add a lot of weight / bulk. I’ve had some bags I carry leave bruising or just be difficult to hold and use so tote bags are always my safe option.

[hayffiebird]

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M

Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitch’s life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more?

Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion’s over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effie’s life in a way they never saw coming.

Author's note: Happy Hayffieweek! I won't technically participate but at least you get a ToS chapter. :) A big thank you and a big hug to you sweethearts reading and responding to this story.

You're the best and I'm so grateful! If you were here I'd follow in the prep team's footsteps and invite you over for tea and a batch of Peeta's yummiest cookies. ;)

Chapter 49, In vino veritas

*ring ring*

Hello, this is Effie Trinket’s answer phone. I can’t pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day! *peep**ring ring*

Hello, this is Effie Trinket’s answer phone. I can’t pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day! *peep* *ring ring*

Hello, this is Effie Trinket’s answer phone. I can’t pick up at the moment but …

*click*

Hello? … um, helloo?

Hi Octavia …

Oh, there you are! I was getting really worried about you! Been calling for almost five minutes.

Sorry. It’s … I was in the bathroom.

Of course you were. Silly young me! I’m getting ready here too. You all set? Such a thrilling day! Aren’t you so excited? Oh, the twins will LOVE the Summer Breeze! We can’t bring them on any of the roller coasters of course. Flavius always puke anyway. But there are still plenty of “baby-friendly” rides to go around. The Love Tunnel. Lucretius’s Magic Carpet. The teacups. Hey, maybe it’ll even help with your little problem? And we couldn’t have asked for better weather, right? Everything’s perfect! Octavia, listen …

But before anything else, I need your advice on something. I’m sitting by my vanity – as we speak – and I cannot for the life of me decide which earrings to wear! On the one hand, I’ve got these spectacular neotropical scarlet macaws. You know, the famous red, blue and yellow parrot? Gorgeous. Obviously! But then I also own a pair of silver sea turtles with amethysts and well … you see my conundrum. What do you think? Which one of these will make me the prettiest girl at the fair?

I … I wouldn’t know …

Oh, don’t sell yourself short! Next to me and Flavius and Venia, you’re by far the number one expert on beauty! Come on, Effie, this is important to me! I can’t show up looking ghastly.

Course not … you …

I’m leaning toward the birds, naturally. You know, because colors are so colorful and fun. But then again, if I save the turtles for the Aquarium, won’t it be a cliché? Maybe I should go with the amethysts after all. But if I do, what if people think … Octavia, look … I … I know how excited you are about today but … I don’t think I can make it.

Wait, what?

I don’t feel very well and the twins … they aren’t even dressed to go out yet.

Are you ill? *gasps* It’s not contagious, is it? Because I cannot under any circumstances be sick this week.

No, no. Don’t worry. It’s just a migraine.

Have you had enough to drink today? Maybe you’re dehydrated? Don’t worry. Flavius and Venia and I will take the twins for a walk and you can treat yourself with a nice, long nap. It’ll invigorate you in no time.

Thank you, but I feel I must take this day for myself. Raincheck? Doesn’t mean you three can’t have fun.

But it wouldn’t be the same without you! Or the children! *tsks* Effiie! We had it all planned out!

I’m sorry.

Flavius will be so disappointed! He wanted to spin the chocolate wheel. *gives a heavy sigh* I guess, we’ll just have to try and find something else to do, somehow. But it won’t be as fun. Take care of yourself, sweetie.

You too. Give my love to the others.

Mm. As soon as I’ve figured out how to break it to them. What a day. No cotton candy. No stuffies for the twins. Nothing. *sighs again* Bye, Effie dear. Get well soon.

Bye.

*toot toot*

xXx

“… and they lived happily ever after.”

Effie whispered the words, lying on her side next to them on the bed.

Sandy hair fell over Ian’s forehead when he rolled in toward her, seeking his mother’s closeness and warmth. Effie dropped a butterfly kiss to his skin.

The girl gave a soft whine. Crinkled her face up from whatever dream she was having. Her chest rose and fell in puffy little breaths as she opened and closed her fists.

“It’s OK, precious”, Effie whispered. Ever so gently she caressed a light fingertip between Amy’s closed eyes and down her nose.

A trick that Sae once taught her. It never failed to help settle the girl down. That and papa Haymitch’s strong, safe embrace. “It’s OK to sleep. I’m here. Mama’s here. Everything will be alright.”

Her own eyelids felt dipped in lead. What she wouldn’t do to just crawl under these covers and sleep the day away. Today and the rest of the week, for that matter.

She knew she shouldn’t have lied to Octavia. About the migraine. But what else could she say?

Certainly not the truth. “I’m sorry Octavia but Haymitch is slowly destroying his brain with alcohol as we speak and if you drag me into an amusement park for three hours I’ll end up on the news, having a nervous breakdown right in front of all those poor chocolate-sticky children. My own included.”

No. It was better this way. Better for all involved.

She nuzzled Ian’s skin. Caressed Amy’s hand between her thumb and forefinger.

“What are they doing now, you think?” she whispered to her children’s sleeping faces. “Uncle Flavius and aunt Octavia and aunt Venia. Enjoying a ride on the Ferris Wheel perhaps?”

She saw it as clearly as she did Amy and Ian.

The three of them, snuggled together in a passenger car. Heading for the place of birds. Giggles. Chatter. Bowls of buttered popcorn, warm to the touch. And down below: a spectacular view of the city. The river. The distant Capitol mountains.

Because of course they never cancelled. She didn’t believe it for a second. They’d been looking forward to this all week long. Especially Flavius. And the tickets were already bought and paid for.

Maybe Haymitch is right, she thought unhappily. Maybe they will grow tired and move on.

The possibility stung, but who could blame them? She hadn’t exactly been fun company lately.

R-i-i-ng!

The bell only just managed to break through her haze.

Not the phone. The front door. Far, far away – in a different life it seemed. Effie closed her eyes. Curled into the twins. Like a baby still in the womb. Nose in Ian’s soft, angel hair. Hand around Amy’s.

Her mother all but cleared her throat, telling her to go get the door, but Effie shrugged her off.

Just this once, she wasn’t going to care. Whoever it was, whatever they wanted – it could wait. Ill-mannered? So be it.

R-i-i-ng!

Her brows came together, eyes still promptly shut.

It’s not the prep team, she thought, despite herself. Way too discreet.

Their rings were always forceful. Insistent. Headache or no.

Couldn’t be Haymitch either. Doorbells equaled decorations in his book. He walked straight in.

That day when he showed up at her doorstep, out of the blue, hours before they made love in a bed for the first time, he’d pressed the bell. But that was a rare thing.

A sort of honeymoon treatment he definitely gave up on after she’d slept with him long enough to have his babies.

Maybe it’s Mrs Pluckrose.

Effie swallowed a sigh.

Yes, her delightful neighbor. Going on and on about how someone didn’t bother to mow their lawn this week and “we uphold a certain standard around here, Ms Trinket, in case you forgot”.

R-i-i-ng!

Oh, go away. Eyes squeezed shut, Effie pressed her lips together, willing her to leave. Just let me sleep.

Maybe the person – whoever it was – heard her thoughts, for a fourth ring never followed.

Effie caressed her daughter’s hair, breathing a sigh of relief. Silence resumed. She had almost gathered her thoughts when,

Tap-tap!

Startled, her eyes flew to the window.

She’d pulled the curtains shut earlier but behind them – a shadow was moving. Face shrouded in darkness, silhouetted by the brilliant sun.

Heart pounding, Effie sat up in bed.

“Who is it?”

And on the other side of the glass, a woman replied,

“Don’t be alarmed, ma’am. I’ve just got a delivery for you.”

Effie inched the curtain aside. Then some more.

Face tilted, the lady smiled as they came eye to eye.

“Thought someone was home”, she said. “What with the stroller out front.”

Effie blinked at the beaming lady, standing there in her flower bed.

Stout. Burly. Dressed in a lavender uniform and carrying what looked like some kind of gift basket wrapped up in cellophane and tied with ribbons.

She looked about Venia’s age. Dark skin. Silver mascara. Purple hair gathered in a ponytail.

A name was stitched on the side of her chest. Effie squinted at the letters. “Briar Rose”.

Briar Rose! Same as Snow’s youngest daughter.

“Oh, don’t hold it against me”, the lady said lightly when she saw her look. “We don’t all get to choose our own names. Besides”, she added, “the story it derives from goes back way beyond the Snow’s dynasty.”

Effie hesitated, then reached for the hooks on the window. Opened it ever so carefully.

“I just put my babies down”, she said, under her breath.

The woman called Briar Rose, nodded.

“I’ll make it brief then.”

“I didn’t order anything though.”

“Well, it says right here, ‘Effie Trinket’, and there’s only one Effie Trinket in the city, right?” The woman sounded almost amused.

“Yes?”

“Then I’ve come to the right place.”

Briar Rose settled the gift basket against the windowsill.

Effie’s eyes were instantly drawn to the sealed envelope attached to it.

A match of hope struck inside her.

“From District 12?”

“I’m afraid not.” The cellophane rustled quietly under the woman’s hands. Purple nails that matched her hair, Effie noticed. “Sorry I startled you before”, Briar Rose went on. “I know this is most irregular, but they said you were feeling a little under the weather. That I had to make sure you got it.”

“They?”

The woman smiled.

“You must have some generous friends indeed. Sign here, please.”

Alone again, Effie settled on the bed. Basket on her lap.

Aphrodite’s Beauty Spa. The famous logo was printed along the ribbon. The envelope had one word written on it. Effie. In beautiful calligraphy letters.

She swallowed and swallowed.

Not a gift basket.

A wellness basket.

Eyes burning, stinging, like standing too close by a smoky fire, she carefully turned it from side to side. Peered at the items through the cellophane.

Packets of dried herbs and flower petals. Bottles of essential lavender oil. Scented candles. Coconut oil. Body cream infused with vanilla. Aromatic soaps shaped like water lilies, so small they fit on your palm.

Bath bubbles and bath salt. Lip smackers. Face masks, bath sponges in three different colors and, shoulder to shoulder with a set of fluffy baby-soft hand towels: a neat package of wrapped up boiled lemon sweets.

With trembling hands, Effie opened the envelope. Got out the card, printed with a field of gorgeous sunflowers.

Her eyes travelled from left to right and as she read, her face crinkled up, shoulders beginning to shake with silent sobs.

She tried to be quiet. Didn’t want to wake the children. But despite her great efforts, she couldn’t quite keep the small, strangled sounds from escaping her throat.

More and more tears just rolled down her cheeks, dropped from her chin and into the wellness basket.

All that built-up heartache for months and months, if not years just … poured through her eyes.

Dear Effie

We’re so sorry you’re feeling unwell. Staying in bed when you don’t want to, is just the worst (especially when you can’t also have sex with a hottie). You know Flavius would offer but he’s just not that into redheads. At least not this season. And sometimes rest, real rest, is all you need to really bounce back again. And you will, darling.

Now try and sleep as much as you can and, when you’re ready, go pour yourself a nice, warm bath. Add some oil, some petals, light a candle and just relax and unwind in the bubbly water.

Once you’re back on your feet, you have our numbers. We’ll bring dinner and iced tea and then we can play a game of Scrabble together. Won’t that be fun? If we can keep the twins from eating up the pieces, that is.

Take care of yourself, dear!

Love

Octavia, Flavius and Venia

PS: Don’t worry about the tickets. Flavius knows someone who works at the Breeze. We got a full refund. The fair will always be there and who knows? Maybe next time, Haymitch might want to join!

xXx

*ring ring*

… Mm?

Eff? Did I wake ya?

Mm.

Oh, shit. Fuck. Didn’t realize how late it was. ’m sorry. Go back to sleep. I’ll call y’up some other time.

You’re here now. What do you want?

Just tell ya … well, how sorry I um ... for bein’ sucha a dick afore.

You really were. Even by your standard.

Yeah … *slurs* those three odd birdies really bring out the worst in me. Go figguh.

*sighs* Haymitch, if all you’re going to do is joke around, might as well hang up now. I’m not in the mood.

No, no. I won’t. Come on, Effs. Don’t be so snippy. You know me. You know how I really feel about things. *hick* Didn’t even mean what I said ‘bout the prep.

Good.

Well … ma’be some of it, but like … not the stuff that were like really mean. Honest, swee… I mean Eff. They’re your friends. I wants you to have friends. If they wanna come over and sing n read n … do theatre, that’s fine.

…

It’s just … I should be doin’ those things!

I know.

I shoulda been there for Am’s first word! What’s next? Ian’s gon’ start callin’ Flavius “papa”? I’m glad someone’s there helpin’ ya out. I am, but damn it … it should be me! Right? Why can’t I be a part of their life too? I’m their father!

You know why, Haymitch.

But I ‘aven’t been drinkin’ all that much lately. Honest! And there are ways around it.

It’s not that simple.

Why couldn’t it be? I know I ain’t perfect, sweetheart. I know I’m not good at it like you are but … don’t ‘ey need me too? Just a lil’ bit? I mean, come on! You said I could see ‘em if I was sober.

And you’re not!

I would be. If you were here. And it’s not like they know wha’s goin’ on, anyway. They’re babies, Eff. Even if I had a cold one right in front of ‘em it wouldn’t affect or hurt ‘em. I won’t fuck ‘em up. I won’t!

That’s what you need to believe in order to sleep at night.

Why’d ya have to be so mean, I already said I’m sorry!! *sobs* I cleaned the house up. Tha’s where I was before. Ask Peeta if you don’t believe me. Whole fuckin’ place: spick and span now. I don’t even live with Sae no more. All week long I just wash everything. Threw out a mountain o’ crap. G-got all their toys ready, so you and … you … Effs, I can’t live like this! It feels like a part of me’s been cut off! I need to see my kids. Bring the prep team along if you must, I’ll wait on them hand and foot, just … please come home! You can’t keep punishing me like this, Eff. It’s too cruel. *sobs* They’re my children too.

I’m not being cruel. I’m just trying to keep this family afloat. Haymitch, I know you’re hurting … but this isn’t about you. Or me. It’s about them. What’s best for them. *draws a deep breath* Look … what we can do or at least try is buy a videophone and install it in the nursery. That way you can both see and talk to each other.

*sniffs* For real? You promise? Yeah … yeah, that’d be great!

But, Haymitch! You need to show me that you’re serious about it, OK? You have to be a grownup here. A real parent. If we do this and you disappoint them …

I won’t! Never!

No showing up drunk. Or hungover. And if we say Tuesday at 2PM that means Tuesday 2PM. No excuses!

No excuses. I swear.

We’ll try that for a while and if you can make it work – then we can talk some more about the prospect of you visiting. But you have to earn it, Haymitch. You must do the work. You.

Yeah, totally! Absolutely! *wipes his nose* Can I tell ‘em g’night? I won’t wake ‘em or anything. Just g’night?

Not when you’re like this. Tomorrow maybe. We’ll talk then. You and I for sure. Now, put that bottle down, Haymitch and go to sleep. Or if not sleep then at least try and rest. Lay down on the bed or the couch and close your eyes. Things will feel different in daylight.

Can you at least tell ‘em I love ‘em? I mean, like … really make sure they know?

I will. Of course. I already do. Every day.

Author's note: And Haymitch's destructive cycle has gone full circle again, only to start over AGAIN. The Trinket Abernathy family truly is completely codependent. What do you think will happen next? Tell me in the comments!

Also, anyone else feeling curious about this Briar Rose character? She was supposed to just be the delivery woman in this one scene but I have a strong feeling this isn't the last we'll ever see of her.

[highqueenofelfhame]

rowaelin // 5.3k words // ciwyw mastlist // playlist // masterlist

It had been a frustrating day to begin with. After failing to sleep for more than a collective two hours the night before, Rowan had tried to carry on with his day like he would any other Sunday. The conversation with Aelin, and more importantly her response, pounding with every slap of his shoes against the treadmill. Not even a full leg-day workout could dispel the dreadful, anxious energy brewing at the forefront of his mind. 

Lorcan had showed up at the house early in the afternoon and chewed his ass out for the red card. He was fully in Team Captain mode for the full lecture, barely letting Rowan get a word in edgewise. At some point he gave up on defending himself and let Lorcan get his rant out. Once he was finished, he’d flopped onto Rowan’s couch and gestured vaguely with his hands.

“Alright. Your turn. Talk about it.”

“I already told you I was sor–” He’d started, hands bracing his knees as he debated groveling on his knees for Lorcan to let up. It had been a long enough weekend and he couldn’t handle another half hour. Sure, he deserved being called a stupid, selfish bastard, but he was tired. There wasn’t much left for him to say other than he was sorry, and he’d already done that multiple times.

“I’m not talking about the match. The girl. Something’s bothering you, so talk. The other idiots aren’t here to give you shit about it.” The man had a point. Without everyone else there to make subtle digs, it was easier for him to nod his head and dive headfirst into the clusterfuck of a situation he was in with Aelin. 

To his credit, Lorcan listened to every word until it was all laying before them like a jigsaw puzzle. The pieces were hard to put together because there were about a million of them, all tiny, and several of them were missing entirely. Rowan couldn’t find the corners and didn’t know which way was up or down. Lorcan listened anyway. The migraine that had been coming on for the last few hours hit in full force when Lorcan compared it all to a fucking onion. 

“Give her space. Give her time. The shit with Lyria is a lot to unpack on its own. Add into it that you’ve found yourself in a similar, however different, situation with Aelin… it would be a lot for anyone. It’s an onion, mate. Shit has fucking layers to it.” Rowan had given him a flat look that caused Lorcan to raise his hands in front of his chest. “I’m just saying. Might also be a lesson to check the expirations on those rubbers before you use them, too. Twice in one lifetime? You are one unlucky bastard.”

“You’re not helping,” Rowan glowered, eyes narrowed into little slits. Even if it was good advice, it didn’t do him a lick of good at this point. So much for not getting any shit about this.

“What brand did you use? I need to avoid those fuckers like the plague.”

“Lorcan,” Rowan sighed exasperatedly, all ten fingers raking through his hair until it was a mess of tangles. 

“Just give her the space she asked for, Ro. She told you what to do. So do it.”

“It’s hard to give her space when I just want to be with her all the time,” he finally admitted, slumping back against the sofa. The position did nothing to help the throbbing in his head, but he didn’t move. 

“I really need to meet this woman if she has you, of all people, wound so tight you look like you’re about to explode,” Lorcan said with the shake of his head. “Do you think she’s worth all the trouble?” 

Rowan didn’t have to think about it. The answer was a huge, resounding yes. She was worth fighting for. He said as much and Lorcan nodded, eyes focused on the empty fireplace. 

“For what it’s worth… I’ve never seen you as happy as you are when you talk about her. Don’t get me wrong, until she cuts you a break and gives you a real chance, she’s on my shit-list. But she makes you happy. I’ve never seen you this way about a woman and I think… I think she pulls out the best parts of you.” Lorcan’s confession made Rowan’s chest feel a little tight. “Except for when she’s the reason you’re so pissed off you get carded.”

They had both shared a quiet laugh at that, then spent the rest of the evening sipping beer and watching the major sports channels for highlights of the other games that happened over the weekend. 

Hours later, Rowan truly was about to explode. Sleep was already hard to find despite scouring every drawer and pocket in his brain. When his phone pinged, hope had swelled that it was Aelin. As much as he loved to see her smiling face lighting up his phone, it was not what he had in mind. 

Rowan Whitethorn liked to think of himself as a man with self control and reason. Amongst his teammates he was known for being level-headed, someone that thought things through and didn’t jump the gun. To his core, he always had been those things– until he met Aelin Galathynius, and he was unraveling quicker than a dropped spool of thread. 

You know, the one that rolled under the bed and there was no hope of getting it back unless you kept pulling on the string. The spool would re-emerge from the shadows once the thread was in a mess of a knot at your feet and there was absolutely no hope of getting it wrapped back around its little home neatly. In fact, you might even scrap the whole thing and throw it in the garbage because the reward didn’t outweigh the tedious task at hand. 

Rowan felt like that unraveled spool of thread as he stared at his phone screen at two in the morning, the simple plastic phone case groaning under the pressure of his white-knuckled grip. The edges of his vision were hazy because he hadn’t blinked a single time since he saw the picture that Fenrys sent him. 

Mala fucking help him, he was going to murder his teammate. A brutal, bloody murder. Rowan had never been so sure that he was going to end up in fucking jail. 

Aelin was radiant– something that had been missing from her the last time he saw her. The woman in the picture was exactly the woman that had ripped his heart from his chest before he even knew what was happening. The more muted version he’d had over the weekend still held his throbbing, bleeding heart. But the woman beaming in the photo was the one who stole it in the first place. 

Her hair was down, the golden waves cascading over her shoulders and out of frame. With rose-kissed cheeks and plump, sensual lips spread wide in one of the smiles she used to give him, she was devastating. A little tipsy from his afternoon with Lorcan, Rowan had to physically restrain himself from tracing the shape of her mouth with his fingers. Gods, when did he become such a sap?

The first photo was just her. A tiny cocktail straw was between her teeth, eyes closed from the force of her smile. Her eyelashes seemed to graze the top of her cheeks they were so long. Because of the angle of the photo, taken from a lower, upturned angle, one of the golden lightbulbs gave her a halo. It was fitting, because she was a fucking angel. 

>> She’s even more beautiful in person. 

Rowan knew that. He was well aware of how fucking beautiful she was. But why did Fenrys know that? Why was he discovering the truth of it at two in the godsdamn morning? 

>> What the fuck? 

<< I mean, if you’re not going to, she should get it from somewhere. You haven’t had sex in her bed yet, have you?

>> Fenrys I swear to the fucking gods if you touch her I’m not responsible for what happens to your face.

The picture that followed made him want to throw his phone across the room and hope it shattered into a million pieces he couldn’t put back together. Someone across the table had taken it, probably Connall if he had to guess. Aelin’s arm was around Fenrys’s neck and they were cheek to cheek with matching smiles. Mischief was wild in Fen’s eyes while Aelin just looked… happy. 

And then he noticed, just at the edge of the picture, how low on her hip his godsdamn hand was and he thought he was going to lose his mind. Yep. He was definitely going to be arrested for homicide in a few hours. The mugshot would be in every newspaper in the country, across the world, and he didn’t care. 

>> She’s just wearing minty lip balm. My face will be nothing but hydrated and tasty.

<< You motherfucker

>> Well… not yet 😉

And then Fenrys stopped replying. 

The self-control and level-headedness he had once prided himself in was nowhere to be seen. He tried to pull on the thread of his sanity, to tell himself it didn’t matter, that all of this was fine. Yet every time he looked back at the screen, every muscle and tendon in his body was so taught it felt as though one movement would have them all in ribbons. 

Rowan hadn’t ever had a relationship where he felt the need to protect as much as he did with Aelin. Maybe it was partially because of the baby, but a roaring silence filled his head at the thought of her with another man, least of all Fenrys fucking Moonbeam. If Fenrys respected any kind of friendship code, he wouldn’t even act like he was thinking about toeing that line. 

It felt stupid. They were barely dating and only knew the tip of the iceberg with each other. Still, there was something so different with her. For the first time in almost a decade, he had let his guard down. There were no mile high cement walls around his heart with nowhere to grasp to climb up and over. He was just Rowan, an unopened book with unexplored pages begging to be read.  

It was highly unlikely that he was the only person that found himself inexplicably drawn to her. She was sweeter and more intoxicating than any drug, than any brand of alcohol money could buy.  Aelin Galathynius had the energy of someone that you just wanted to taste once, because once she was gone you wouldn’t experience anything like her ever again. Coming so close to losing her, Rowan was keenly aware of that fact, and he wasn’t sure how he would ever move on if they didn’t really give themselves the chance to explore it. They were opposite ends of two very strong magnets. It was impossible that she didn’t feel that, too. 

Rowan Whitethorn didn’t open up to just anybody. He didn’t let people in. Aelin wasn’t just a fluke. He was absolutely sure of it. 

The thoughts wouldn’t stop chattering through his brain. Words flashed behind his closed eyelids a thousand miles a minute, leaving nothing but explosions of stars and colors where he tried to rub them away. Every time he looked at his phone, the desire to get in his car and drive to Aelin’s grew stronger and stronger. It was becoming an itch that he couldn’t he couldn’t ignore, and once the sun finally started to peek in through his blinds, he was rolling out of bed and nearly running to shower and change clothes. 

By the time eight rolled around, he had forced a small bowl of cereal down his throat and downed what was probably too many cups of coffee. By eight-fifteen, Rowan was in his car and speeding toward the highway to Varese with something that belonged to Aelin sitting in his front seat. 

~*~

Rowan felt… Well, he felt insane. 

Not for the first time, he was asking himself what the fuck he was doing as he knocked on the door to Aelin’s apartment. At several red lights through the city, he debated going home. Halfway up the staircase, he had paused and gone down three steps, only to turn around and march right back up and to her door. The echoing of his fist on the wood had him hesitating once again, wondering if he should just get in his car and go home. He had no clue what he was doing here, besides just needing to see her and make sure that both she and the baby were okay, regardless of her late night activities. 

That’s what he was telling himself, anyway. 

In the ten agonizing seconds it took for him to head footsteps from inside her apartment, he almost turned and bolted. Rowan was well aware that he was being a territorial fool. Evidently there was no reasoning with that very stupid and very irrational part of his brain, even as the clicking and sliding of locks had him wondering how quickly he could make it down a flight of stairs without being caught. 

“Oh,” came her surprised voice, wide eyes and raised brows to match. It was his very favorite version of Aelin that opened the door. All of her golden hair was in a messy knot on the top of her head, a few pieces framing her face. Much to his satisfaction, he realized she was wearing the shirt he’d told her she could keep a few days prior. A pair of little black shorts peeked out from the hem, and the long expanse of her bare legs had him almost forgetting why he was there in the first place. “What are you doing here?”

Her voice brought his eyes back to her face. There was no evidence of the makeup she’d had on the night before and though he could tell by looking at her that she was exhausted, he could also see that she had at least a few hours of good sleep. The skin around her eyes was a little puffy and a few lines were tattooed on her cheeks from her pillow or the blanket. 

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, no. I’ve been awake for like half an hour. Just haven't gotten to dragging myself out of bed yet since I’m not going to the office today.” Right. It was Monday. In his hazy stupor, Rowan had entirely forgotten that she should have been going to work.

“Are you too sick today?” Rowan was immediately on edge, searching her face and body for any sign of what would keep her from working. There was no point– she was downright glowing today. A healthy blush heated her cheeks and he could almost make out the small smattering of freckles across her nose from where he stood across the threshold. 

“No,” she said simply. “I feel really good today, actually. You didn’t answer me. What are you doing here, Rowan?”

“You forgot your toothbrush at my house,” he said lamely, patting at his pockets. Fuck. “It was purple? I left it in my car.”

“I did leave it at your house because that’s the one you bought for me to keep there.” There was laughter in her words as she spoke, like she was bringing up an inside joke they’d made. Mirth danced in her brilliant turquoise eyes despite her face contorting with confusion as she asked again, her tone softer this time, “What are you doing here, Rowan?”

What a loaded fucking question. He sure as hell didn’t know. How many times on the way here had he asked himself the same thing? 

He didn’t have to answer it directly, though, because he realized her shower was running down the hall. Before he could stop himself he blurted, “Is that Fenrys?” 

“Fen– what?” There was so much disbelief in her voice, but she started laughing. “You drove all the way up here to see if Fenrys spent the night with me?” 

Rowan wasn’t sure if the laughter was a good thing or a bad thing. It was impossible to tell if she was laughing at him for being so stupid he thought he had any right to know about her private life when he wasn’t around, or if she was laughing because the idea was so stupid and he had nothing to be worried about. He was inclined to think it was the former, because even though Fenrys liked to rile him up, he didn’t know if he would push Rowan quite so hard.

“Hey, bub? You hungry?” A voice, one that was distinctly not Fenrys’s shouted from the bathroom. In that one, tiny pet name, Rowan’s entire heart sank through the floor. If he looked down, he was sure he would be standing in a puddle of his own blood. The world had gone very quiet, his fingers suddenly freezing as he stuffed them into his pockets.

“Yes,” she called back, her eyes not leaving Rowan’s face.

Aelin was seeing someone else. It wasn’t a thought that had ever occurred to him until those texts from Fenrys, but now it was glaringly obvious. She had already said once that their relationship wasn’t supposed to turn into anything serious. Had she been seeing other men the whole time? It wasn’t like they’d ever talked about being exclusive in any shape or form. They had plenty of time away from each other. He never would have known. It couldn’t even be considered cheating. 

“Rowan,” she said, bottom lip tucked between her teeth to swallow her smile.

“I’ll… I’m sorry. I’ll let you get back to the guy in the shower,” he half-mumbled, crossing his arms to hide his shaking hands. 

And then she was well and truly laughing. It was a bright, melodious sound that under any other circumstance, he would have loved to pull out of her, to bottle up and get drunk on it whenever he pleased.. But right here, right now? Rowan was fucking gutted, and she was giggling like he’d said the funniest thing in the world. 

Rowan had just turned to start walking away when she collected herself enough to say, “You mean my cousin?” 

Time stopped. His blood was pumping in reverse to turn back the clock, to take everything he’d just said and wipe it from existence. Even his movements felt slower as he looked at her, fire licking up his neck and covering his face. The tips of his ears would be nearly purple and if he walked out into the humid air, his body would be steaming. She could probably feel the heat of his body from where she stood in the doorway. 

Rowan had never been so fucking embarrassed in his entire life. 

“Yeah, I– I am so sorry. I’ll talk to you later,” he grumbled, turning on his heel to make his swift exit and go die in peace. Recovery wasn’t an option. There was absolutely no coming back from this. 

~*~

The plan with Fenrys had either gloriously backfired, or he put much more into the prank than expected. She made a mental note to text him about that later, but there wasn’t time for that now. 

Aelin stepped through the door and caught Rowan’s hand before he was too far away. He felt feverish, like his immune system was trying to burn out the embarrassment before it could settle too much. It took a lot of tugging but he stopped trying to escape her presence. His footsteps were heavy on the old wood floors as she dragged him back toward her apartment.

“I really just want to go,” he told her, tattooed fingers sliding through his hair. It was down for once, not braided or tied out of his face. 

“Look at me.” But he wouldn’t. Green eyes stayed glued to a spot well above her head, looking at anything but her. Yes, it had been funny that he thought that Aedion was a random hookup. But the devastation on his face had done nothing but wreck her in return. The laughter was partially an involuntary response to an awkward situation, but also because it was cute that he was so worried about it. Rowan had absolutely nothing to be worried about. 

“Aelin–” The more she reached for him, the more he leaned away. He took one step back and she took one forward, refusing to let him leave while so upset. Aelin reached up, her cool hands resting on his warm cheeks as she gently guided his face to look at her. Before he could protest or slip further from her grasp, she rocked up onto her tiptoes and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. All ten of his fingers were shaking when they came to rest on her hips and it broke her heart. 

“Take a breath,” she whispered, sliding her hands down his neck and over his chest. Rowan’s eyes were still closed as he rested his warm forehead against her own, but he obeyed. “Fenrys was just fucking with you. Clearly he took it way too far and I am so sorry. We will most definitely be having words about that.” 

Before he could respond, from the depths of her apartment Aedion once again shouted for her and Rowan’s hands flexed on her hips. Aelin sighed and grabbed his hands, walking backwards with him until they were inside. Her fingertips were able to reach around him to push the door shut, sealing him inside with her. 

“Aedion, can you shut the fuck up and come out here and talk to me like a normal person? You’re freaking out my boyfriend and he’s been through enough for today.” Aedion’s hurried footsteps down the hall and the click of his door shutting was the only response she was given, likely to hurry and dress for their sudden company. 

Rowan looked inclined to agree with her sentiments, but didn’t say anything as she walked to the kitchen to get him some water. There was something off about him, and not just because of the trauma Fenrys had inflicted on him, nor the embarrassment that still stained his cheeks. He seemed almost… dim. All of the energy he’d had mere moments ago was vanishing before her eyes. His posture was a deflated balloon hovering inches from the ground a week after the party. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked, taking his hand and guiding him to the couch. Rowan shrugged as she nudged for him to sit in the corner while she curled onto the middle cushion beside him, her legs leaning against his thigh. If anything, she hoped it would ground him from the hell he’d been dragged through in the last few hours. “When was the last time you slept?”

Rowan exhaled, his cheeks puffing out with the gust of air. Dark circles haunted the skin beneath his eyes, which were bloodshot, making the green of them all the more piercing. Aelin frowned at his lack of response, tugging on his sleeve until he looked at her. 

“The fact that it’s taking you so long to figure it out tells me enough.” As though they couldn’t help themselves, despite her telling him she needed space, her traitorous fingers reached out and brushed his hair out of his eyes. 

“It’s been a few days,” He admitted, attempting to rub the tiredness away with his thumb and forefinger. “And my head is fucking killing me.”

“Let’s eat some breakfast and then we can nap, yeah? I’d tuck you in right now but I’m starving and I think you probably need to eat a bit, too.” 

A crease appeared between his eyebrows, lips pursing into a line as he looked over at her and said, “Is that… okay? You said you wanted space. I’m not exactly giving it to you by showing up like this.” 

“Considering I’ve barely been awake for an hour and could already use a nap, I’m going to go with yes. Besides, I do want you to meet Aedion while he’s here.” Thank the gods, his lips quirked into a small smile. Relief fluttered through her chest. She had never been so happy to see somebody smile at her before. 

Just as he opened his mouth to respond, however, Aedion’s door opened and he appeared in the archway to the hall. Aelin looked over at her cousin with a look that threatened violence if he tried the man beside her even a little too hard. Much to her surprise, Aedion gave a short nod before walking closer to the couch.

“Aedion, meet Rowan. Rowan, this is Aedion.” Aelin was a little surprised that Rowan mustered the muscle power to stand and shake hands. “Rowan is very tired so save the groveling for later, please.”

“I think you should be telling him to save my ass-kicking for later,” Rowan amended, sitting back on the couch. Aelin grinned as he looked over at her. “I can assume you told him what I’ve done.” 

“And that you’re very sorry,” she added sweetly, but her glance at Aedion was sharp as a dagger. Though his mouth had opened, likely to throw his own little quip into the sparring ring, it shut immediately.

“We’ll talk about it another time,” Aedion said simply, dropping onto the sofa beside Aelin with enough force that she bounced. She scowled at him, her hand immediately going to cover her stomach. “What are we eating?” 

Half an hour later they had brunch delivered to the apartment, the three of them sitting knee to knee on the couch. The sofa in question had been chosen for the luxurious aesthetic it provided, but she made a mental note to look at sectionals. There was no way she could have any other visitors with only this and the overstuffed chair in the corner for seating. 

Though he said a few things here and there, most of the conversation was Aelin and Aedion’s casual banter. While they did talk a little bit about the game he was carded in and what he expected for the rest of the season, as the conversation went on Rowan seemed to keep drawing further and further into himself. His broad shoulders were caved in and that wrinkle between his eyebrows got deeper and deeper. It looked like it was taking an astronomical amount of effort to keep his eyes open.

When they finished, Aelin and Rowan settled back against the couch while Aedion cleaned everything up. She had intended to just check a few emails before getting Rowan to bed, but he dozed comically fast. The email was half-read when she locked her phone and contemplated the best way to wake him gently. 

“This is the man that got the first red-card of his career for being so fucking pissed on Friday?” Aedion asked incredulously. 

“So it would seem.”

“You’ve never seen him play–” But Aelin cut him off with a shake of her head.

“I have. I watched the game until he got kicked out and then drove to Doranelle.”

“Before that,” his hand cut through the air, dismissing her. Aelin gave him a flat look before looking back at the man snoozing beside her. “He’s a demon, Aelin. When he’s on the field every move is calculated and with purpose. His face is always harsh and his body is always locked and loaded for the next play. Yet here he is, falling asleep on your couch with his mouth open. He might start drooling.” Aedion put his hands on his knees and leaned forward to get a closer look. 

Aelin grinned, eyes cutting back to Aedion. She couldn’t help it. “Be nice, he’s getting old.”

She knew it was true. Ever since uncovering the truth about his job, she had spent an embarrassing amount of time watching highlight videos of his career online. Every photo she saw that was snapped mid-match, his face was all hard lines and angles like he was in the middle of a battlefield fighting for his life. On the soccer pitch, he looked like a warrior that had been honed for battle. Here, on her couch asleep,  he just looked like Rowan. The real Rowan, and she was pretty sure not many people saw this side of him. 

“He looks younger like this,” he observed, eyes squinting as if he could see the soccer persona in his face if he tried hard enough. It was nowhere to be seen, though.

“Probably because he isn’t awake to frown at me.”

“Yeah, no way this is the same guy that fought his way to a red-card before halftime,” Aedion concluded. Aelin snorted, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the sound. Rowan didn’t so much as twitch. 

“I’m pretty sure he almost cried when he heard you yell at me from the bathroom. He thought…” Involuntary giggles bubbled through her chest and out of her mouth, “He thought you were a hookup from last night.”

“That’s gross.” Aedion’s lips were downturned as he straightened, arms folding across his chest. “He almost cried?”

“That’s where it gets not-so- funny. Whatever Fenrys said to him really fucked him up.” She sighed then, reaching to trace his cheekbone with her fingertip. Rowan did stir then, eyes blinking rapidly as he took in a brute of a man staring down at him curiously and the feeling of Aelin’s skin on his. “Come on. Let’s go take a nap.”

In the most adorable protest of the century, Rowan started grumbling incoherently in the old language. Aelin smiled, only catching a few words here and there that equated to him insisting he wasn’t tired and they could nap later. His eyes betrayed him. They were heavy, blinking slowly and trying to roll back in his head. 

“This is one argument you sure as hell aren’t going to win.” Aelin pulled him to his feet and guided him to her room. When she plopped him onto the edge of the bed his protesting started up again. 

“What’s in it for me?” Sleepy, bleary eyes looked up at her as he refused to lay down. Aelin was standing between his legs with her hands on his shoulders, an eyebrow cocked to silently tell him he was being ridiculous.

“Besides sleeping for the first time in a couple days?” Rowan nodded, his fingertips grazing up her thighs and settling on her hips. She laughed, pushing his hair behind his ears. They would definitely be talking about his sleepless nights later.  “What do you want?”

“A kiss, please.” His response was so immediate it made her heart play hopscotch in her chest. Sleepy Rowan might just be her favorite thing in the entire world. Not even cotton candy could make her feel so light and sweet. 

“Okay, deal,” Aelin leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead. Rowan swore in the old language but laid flat on his back and let her pull the blankets over his body. 

“Should have been more specific,” he mumbled, pulling on her hand until she crawled over him to the other side of the bed and nestled into the sheets beside him. She let him pull her close until they were pressed flush together. A weight she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying fell from her shoulders,  replaced by his arms around her body. Aelin didn’t pull away but snuggled into him as much as she could, her face against his chest as she deeply inhaled the scent that was so completely Rowan. The scent that was home. 

“You should have,” she agreed, but Rowan was already asleep.

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