#how am i supposed to wait a week for this

[andhumanslovedstories]

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

[waytootiredstudent]

Öhm. So this has gotten a wider reach than I thought! It does feel good to read the notes and to know none of us are alone in this moment what the actual fuck is happening.

Have an update. Because new things have happened and because in my attempt to keep it as a brief overview I skipped over. Like. A lot.

The tldr version:

There are two different votes, one to dissolve Parlament, one to elect Parlament. Theres a lot of discussion about that. It's the vote of no confidence that Merz is calling for to be next week, not an election!

Currently we don't have a majority in the goverment to, well, govern. Some ministers have two ministries to look after now. The guy who just got kicked from his job is already loudly proclaiming he wants to be finance minister again in the next coalition. Insanity all around.

The long version:

Let's start with something that made me laugh to keep the mood from being so doom-y yes?

You are so correct I love to know that thank you very much.

Now to clear up a little misunderstanding in the notes:

There's two different votes:

A vote of no confidence

An election

Those are two different things with two different time frames. In my attempt to keep it brief I think I scrapped one paragraph too many.

What Merz, the CDU guy that is a human being that forgot its soul somewhere on the way, has called for to happen next week is the vote of no confidence. Not the election itself. The vote of no confidence would dissolve Parlament if Scholz, the current chancellor, loses it, which it's pretty sure that he would. According to our Constitution after the dissolvement of Parlament, they 60 days to hold an election. Ppl responsible for that have already said "I mean this is our job yeah we can do that". Scholz wants that vote to happen in January, to hold the election in march.

Now that we got that out of the way, let's return to the insanity shall we?

Yes I understand completely but there's more:

So you remember how I said this is a messy divorce? The FDP has kept most of their children (the ministers, besides the one drama bitch that jumped ship)(yes the FDP didn't even manage a collective walkout why do you ask) but that left the seats open and the coalition needs to fill them. Which has resulted in a mud feast of accusations about how the coalition is putting up there friends in those seats to get them money and pensions and there have been calls to stop all promotions.

Well I don't know if you know that but you do need ministers to keep your goverment functioning.

Which is way there are now a couple ministers, including the one of the FDP that jumped ship, hold two ministries. The swearing of the new ones was so hasty that a couple ministers didn't make it and had their secretaries (I sure hope thats the right translation of the job lol) be their instead as a witness.

Now we have different problem besides that nobody knows what's going on or can agree on what's supposed to happen. Our current government is a minority goverment. Which is why Merz, you remember, the corpse of a human being that somehow convinced everybody that he's technically alive and should be given money for it, yes I am biased is that obvious, has called for the vote of no confidence to be called next week. So the elections could happen mid January instead of mid march.

Now. Let's break that down. What happens after a vote of no confidence?

Well if he loses Parlament will dissolve. Great time right now to not have a functioning goverment right?

Yeah. That. So everybody is split everybody is yelling over each other, there have been already two closed door meetings, one between the CDU and SPD (current chancellor's party), and there has been no agreement on any front. So it's currently a 'waiting with baited breath on what the fuck is going to happen'. Will we have a functioning goverment tmw?

Who knows! Not us!

Well i hope we will and I hope they get their shit together and agree on something because let me tell you I am not made for this kinda stress.

Best summed up like this:

I am so sorry btw for everyone that put their phone aside to escape the America election meltdown just to come back and find the German government meltdown.

Now we go backt to where it all started. Recently fired ex-finance minister Lindner. Yeah that bitch.

He is already making noise about how he's gonna be the candidate of his party in the upcoming election and that he's ready finance minister again.

Like bitch. Or son of a bitch in this case. Take a hint. You just got fired.

Let me just remind you that it hasn't even been 24h since Scholz kicked Lindner and the FDP out. All of this. Happend in under 24 hours.

Okay alright sorry for all the sudden German politics influx but lemme explain what happened so far and why Germans are losing it a bit:

The tldr? Our government is getting a divorce and it's turning messy with elections being called early and now being called even earlier.

The longer version?

Okay so, groundwork first:

in Germany there is a coalition currently in power called the Ampel(traffic lights) bc the colours of the party are red, yellow and green (or not anymore or for much longer??). They're centrist slightly more left leaning than right leaning. (You could argue about that I am aware). There has been infighting for as long as this coalition has been going on. It is also the first three party coalition since y know, the Last Time.

So. Enough groundwork. The yellow party (FDP) has a finance minister (Christiane Lindner) it's this guy

You will see him in memes I am sure. We don't like him. He's an asshole and has blocked every meaningful change that the coalition had been trying to accomplish. He also got his finance plan blocked by our highest court because parts were against our Constitution.

(.... I am oversimplifying hard here it's actually more complicated than that and not fully his fault, but it's also not the focus)

What WAS the fault though of him and the FDP was that they had a strong position of "saving money at all costs" which made bigger and bigger rifts with the two other coalition partners who were more leaftleaning. The war in Ukraine, Infrastructure, climate change - there were many places that needed more money and Lidner was like naaahhhhh for no fucking reason other than "oh we need to save money!!"

Long story short there have been arguing all the fucking time and therefore have started to lose approval. Drastically lose approval. As on for the first time since the Last Time there is a far right party in charge for part of the country that is also being investigated for being Nazis. (Oversimplifying again).

Which is. Worrying. You know. Especially with Trump now being elected. It has us all a little skittish.

The finance minister has also now been fired.

You see. We were all still trying to stomach Trump winning the US election, when Scholz, in the same fucking evening, fired Lindner.

And not in a polite way. Nah. Olaf fucking Scholz our Chancellor, notorious for saying literally nothing, and with a running joke that he regularly stops existing bc that man Does Not Take Stances, a spine of wet cardboard, delivered this yesterday evening:

(English subtitles by me you already got this far watch it I spent too much time on this lol)

And it is insane alright. For his standards and German politic standards thats the equivalent of calling Lindner a egomaniacal bitch that has only his self interest at heart and can not be trusted.

Lindner and his party have been pulverised in all recent elections. Which means that after he was fired, the FDP completely withdrew from the coalition and all minister from the FDP resigned.

....well all but one who apparently stayed in his positions because he's leaving the FDP over this. What sort of shitty backstabbing kindergarten fight is this. (Jokes aside hes the minister of transportation and says he needs to stay in office in important projects. Which. True. Having minister resigning en mass is not good)

Alright cool cool cool cool. Current situation yesterday is the following:

So. Trump is president. Fuck.

Lindner got fired! Yaaay!

Wait my goverment is now also falling apart! Fuck.

Which all lead to new elections being called in Germany.

Mind you, that's not usual ok. I know other countries have systems where they can call an election whenever but that is not a thing that normally happens here. We have a schedule alright. (Insert obligatory "Germans and their plans and structure" joke)

So new elections are called for spring, nearly a year early. Cool cool cool. With a right wing rising in Germany and deeply unpopular current leadership. On the eve of motherfucking trump getting elected.

Habeck, leader of the green party and one of the few policians in germany I think is vaguely liked by ppl (the general attitude in German politics is less "I like this guy" and more "you are the least shitty choice I guess") has appearently also nearly started crying after the news broke. So. Yeah.

Now. Let's make this shitshow complete,alright?

There is this party. CDU. They had been in charge for a very long time in Germany. Centrist, right leaning, with the afd on the rising even more right leaning than before. Their current leader is Friedrich Merz, as unpleasant as human beings can go.

He has now called for the new election to be not in a few months but like. To be called next week.

In the current climate.

So yeah. if you're German mutuals and friends are currently going through their own stages of grief - this is why.

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - PART FIVE*

Summary: “Y/N hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, but it seems like she is not the only one overthinking this time…”

Tropes: innocent!reader x boxer!harry

Wc: 3k

Warnings: smutty scenes, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, teeny tiny bit of angst ig

A/N: I AM BACK! I finished my exams today and I hurried home to write the rest of this chapter bc I have been itching to do so for the past weeks. I will try not to put as much time in between the next chapters, sorry about that! Love you all and enjoy!!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It had been three days. Three entire days since the kissing-in-the-car debacle that Y/N had participated in, and she still wasn't over it. How was she supposed to act normal at their class tomorrow? It had plagued her mind ever since she walked into her apartment that Saturday night.

All weekend, she had been contemplating different things. Saturday and Sunday, she was sure she wanted to never see his face again because she couldn't stand the embarrassment. But when Monday rolled around and re-thought everything after coming back from work, she realized that she should probably be mature and talk to him.

However, that resulted into her pacing around her room like a maniac with the phone in her hand, his number ready to dial. For the past twenty minutes she had been trying to convince herself to just press that call button and get it over with.

"C'mon..." Y/N growled to herself. She stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and finally called him. Her hands were sweating as the dial tone sounded over and over again, and the nerves she felt were sure to explode her stomach, but she kept breathing and waited for Harry to pick up.

The distant sound of a phone ringing took Y/N’s attention away from her own attempted call. Her heart began beating even faster as she walked towards her front door, and sure enough, when looking through her peephole, she saw Harry standing in front of her door.

As she took the lock off, Y/N broke up the call and putting her phone in her pocket. Harry's eyes were wide at the door opening all of a sudden, but he still managed to muster an awkward smile amidst his shock before he greeted her.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"Hi." She greeted back, unsure of what to do or say or feel. "uhm, what are you doing here?"

The question came out so soft, as if she was scared to ask it, not ready for the consequences his answer may bear. Maybe it was true; she had always had the feeling that her body was better at communicating her true feelings than her brain was.

"I need to talk to you." Harry said, his tone serious enough for Y/N's chest to start pressing on her, but a soft edge to it nonetheless. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door wider and letting Harry inside her apartment. He walked in and silently observed the place. Y/N felt oddly tense as she waited for him to take it all in, but he was quite quick to turn around. In the seconds that he stood there, entirely quiet, Y/N deduced the obvious: he was awaiting some instructions from her.

"Go sit on the couch, do you want something to drink?" She asked, already heading for the kitchen. Harry sat down like she told him to, but shook his head.

"No thank you, just wanna talk. Can you... sit down?" His difficulty to meet her eye and the apprehension behind his words had Y/N immediately head for the couch and sit down next to him.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked innocently, like she wasn’t the reason this awkwardness existed in the first place.

"About last Saturday." He answered. You began to shake your head, cheeks already reddening from the shame that washed over you.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just— hold on," He interrupted her. "I said something, that night, I can't help but think that you didn't take it how I meant it. And it has been eating at me all weekend because I'd hate to be the fool who accidentally rejected you."

Harry's eyes bored into Y/N's until she couldn't take the intensity of it anymore and looked down. He leaned forward, putting his hand on her leg. She studied his fingers as they slowly caressed her skin.

"Harry, it's okay. I misinterpreted it, you don't have to make excuses to make me feel better." She shrugged her shoulders, hoping to prematurely dodge any bullets that might have ended up with her crying otherwise.

"I'm not!" He protested. "I— Y/N, look at me."

When she didn't instantly comply, Harry's fingers traced up to her chin and redirected her face towards him, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb slowly stroked her chin as he took in every inch of her face.

"I wanted it." He said slowly, making sure she heard every word he says. Slowly leaning in, he added: "Really bad."

His lips hovered near hers, so close it was nearly sending her into a frenzy, but far away enough for him to assess her reaction on his movements. But Y/N was an open book, a reactive person when it came to these desires. She couldn't feign disinterest as she had never felt this strongly about someone in such a perverted manner before. Harry mouth slowly curled up into a smirk.

"Can I show you how badly I wanted it?" He asked, the heat of his breath reaching her face and making her core pulsate. The only thing Y/N could do was nod, and before she knew it, Harry's lips closed in on hers.

A soft whine escaped her throat as he kissed her, the desperation of her body unshielded under his roughly delicate touch. Nothing seemed to make sense as he slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back on the couch, nothing but him.

Harry leaned forward, not taking his mouth off Y/N as she sat against the armrest. He hovered over her, his body between her spread legs. One of his hands was holding onto her waist, while the other one kept him up by holding onto the armrest.

As their tongues danced around each other, Harry's hand slipped down from her waist towards her inner thighs, and Y/N felt her panties getting wet at the suggestive caresses of her skin. She put her hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back a little bit, their lips now apart. Still caught up in the heat of the moment, Harry mindlessly trailed his kisses down her jaw and then onto her neck.

"Harry." Y/N tried to get his attention, but his name sounded more like an erotic plea, and caused a growl to sound from his lips, followed by a rougher treatment on her neck. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as his lips sucked at that sensitive skin of her, and a small whine fell from her as he bruised her neck.

"Ha— hmm... Harry!" She exclaimed. "S— stop."

Within a millisecond, or at least it felt like that, Harry's hands and mouth were removed from her. His face was filled with worry as he took in hers.

"Are you okay? Did I go too far?" He began asking, but she was quick to shake her head.

"No! It's just— I haven't really, done much of this before. I don't have a lot of experience and uhm, I just wanted you to know that before we... proceeded." Y/N explained, voice near trembling as she spoke. Harry's eyes softened, and his face pulled into a soft smile.

"Thank you for telling me." He said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss before pulling back, sitting up straight. "I just have one question, though."

Y/N nodded, big doe eyes staring right at him as that innocent smile transformed into a smug grin.

"Can I show you what I actually wanted to do last Saturday?" He asked, stroking her already spread legs. Before she knew it, the answer fell from Y/N's lips.

"Yes."

He let out a satisfied hum before his hands grabbed at her shorts and pulled them down along with her underwear, leaving her bare cunt to be exposed to him. Y/N blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how exposed she was, but the fascination that twinkled in Harry's eyes washed most of her insecurities away. She watched carefully as he leaned down and his fingers began stroking her folds.

Y/N held her breath in anticipation, curiously waiting for Harry to continue, and when he finally put his hands on her clit, she couldn't help but shift in her seat a bit at the tingling sensation.

"O— oh!" She shrieked when she felt Harry's tongue attached itself to her clit, his middle finger now paying more attention to slowly beginning to slide in and out of her. Y/N tried to control her breathing to the best of her abilities as Harry explored her sopping and pulsating core.

Y/N's mind had gone all fuzzy from the sweet feeling of his touch on her sensitive parts. It was impossible to focus on anything else than Harry, and even if it was, she wouldn't dare take her eyes off of him anyway. It was addictive, the way he was ravishing her like she was a culinary meal, and it felt glorying.

Harry temporarily removed his mouth from her heat, and looked up at Y/N before saying: "C'mon, angel. Tell me how it feels."

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname she'd grown to love ever since the first time he said it, and she tried to control her whines as she responded.

"So— ah! So good..." She managed to reply, her knuckles turning white from balling up her fists in an attempt to not come too early. Harry's tongue swept over her clit in such an intoxicating way, and his now two fingers pumping in and out of her was only getting her closer to her inevitable climax.

Harry moaned at her verbal approval, and picked up the pace of both his mouth and his fingers, leaving her nothing but a whimpering mess under him. This was surely going to be the death of her, wasn’t it?

"Harry— I think I'm going to..." She ran out of breath before she could finish your sentence, and she began convulsing around him, legs trembling as her orgasm began to reach her like a wave building up. And then just like that, it crashed.

With a cry of his name and a few profanities that followed, the sensual waves of her release hit Y/N. The release was slow and long, and one of the most satisfying ones she'd ever had. Harry's touch stayed on her skin, helping her ride out her high.

When he finally backed away, Y/N was still breathing heavily from what she had just experienced. Wide eyed, she observed how he licked his lips before he looked up at her. She could've come again from the sight of that alone.

"D'you want some water?" Harry suddenly asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to your kitchen. She followed him with her eyes, mouth agape as he went through her kitchen cabinets until he stumbled upon two glasses and filled them with water. As he returned to the couch, he raised a brow, indicating that he was still waiting on an answer.

"Uhm, yes, thank you." Y/N stumbled as he handed her the glass. She took a few sips, scanning him while she drank. He was so casual all of a sudden, leaning back against the couch with his legs spread like that... there was something cocky about it and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to roll her eyes at it or jump his bones.

Possibly both, at the same time.

Y/N put her glass down and slowly crawled over to Harry, who sniffed a laugh at her wobbly movements on the way too squishy couch. She hoped it would at least come off as cute, now that her attempt at being sexy had been trampled by her own furniture.

As the laughter from both parties died down, Y/N took it upon herself to slowly start kissing Harry's neck. Her heartbeat rose when she felt him shifting in his seat, a pained sigh escaping his throat. Meticulously, she dragged her hand down his chest until it reached his pants, and she began unbuckling his belt.

She was surprised when she felt his hand pull hers away, and stopped her actions to see what was going on. When she saw his clenched jaw, she frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"You don't have to do that angel." He said, tilting his head a bit. She slowly shook her head.

"Oh, alright." She said, and felt a pang in her chest at the idea that she could've done something wrong. Harry took both of her hands, cupping his over them.

"I’d like to save it for next time." He suggested, the slight raise of his brow adding a certain playfulness to his reply. The hint of a smile on his face filled her with a warm feeling, and she quickly found herself nodding at what Harry had said.

“Plus, I have to get my beauty rest… I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I teach this private self-defense class, client’s got me working till late.” He joked, eyes beaming when a giggle fell from her lips. Y/N took her bottom lip between her teeth, stomach fluttering as she took in the painfully beautiful, funny, charismatic man in front—or well, under her.

“Really? Is she any good?” She teased back, brows raising in surprise when Harry nodded.

“Difficult to teach tho.” He responded.

“Why’s that?” Y/N questioned, genuine curiosity dripping from her tone. Harry took his eyes off her and shamelessly lowered his gaze to her body as his hands, that had dug into her waist, slowly began to trail down to her ass.

“‘S just so hard to concentrate…” He said lowly, and she felt her core heating up again at the sole sound of Harry’s voice. Her cheeks flushed alike at what he was implying, and she felt like an animal with the way her body reacted to him.

Y/N remained as quiet as she could, savoring Harry’s touch on her bare skin. She would have closed her eyes, had she not been too mesmerized by her face to do so.

Nerves swirled in her stomach as she watched Harry’s stare trail upwards again, only to stop at her lips. Gradually, he leaned forward, closing the gap between the two’s mouths. Y/N couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her when Harry put his lips on her again, and much like the touch of his hands on her, she relished in the way his tongue circled around hers, and she was surprised at how well their bodies captured the connection that she had been unable to explain in words.

It was safe to say that Y/N was disappointed when at last Harry pulled away, but she couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face of his.

Her eyes widened when he got up all of a sudden, hands still holding up her thighs in the few moments before she wrapped them tightly around him in response to the sudden movement. He sniffed a laugh, which Y/N was only able to hear because her arms were locked around Harry’s neck and her face was only a few centimeters away from his. The urge to smile almost prevailed over her shock.

Harry’s hands let go of Y/N’s thighs, and she lowered her legs in response, putting her feet on the ground again and removing herself from his touch completely.

As they walked towards the front door, Y/N found herself to be a bit gloomy. She didn’t want him to leave, he was so fun to be around. He made her not worry, which was a miracle because Y/N always worried. And she knew she’d go back to worrying and overthinking the second she’d be alone again, so the prospect of Harry going away was not the most fun. She had to remind herself that she’d see him tomorrow, though.

Y/N opened the door, waiting as Harry put on his coat. When he finally had, he turned to her one last time.

“Sleep tight, angel.” He said, and with that, walked right out the door. Y/N croaked out a weak ‘bye’, but she was pretty sure she’d heard the elevator ding by then.

It took her a minute to recover physically before turning off her lights in the living room and floating towards her bathroom, where she smiled like an idiot all the way through brushing her teeth.

It wasn’t until her head hit the pillow that what she dreaded came along again: that tiresome worry. Thoughts and scenarios filled her head as she lied in bed, watching the ceiling as if it would grant her answers, or peace.

It was as if, with Harry, nothing else truly mattered. Not necessarily in the corny, dramatic way, but rather in the sense that it felt like the outside world wasn’t that much of a factor in Y/N’s decisions, nor did she have the feeling that it should be whenever she was around him. But when he was gone, it would all start to matter again and suddenly she found herself doubting whether dating Harry would even be a good idea.

What would her parents think? What would Sophie think? Would she be viewed as less professional by her co-workers for dating her trainer? Would it impact Harry’s reputation—

She stopped herself. Probably not, considering Harry was a man.

It was with a frown that Y/N eventually dozed off into a deep slumber. Not even in her dreams she was safe from the anxiety that plagued her, a nightmare about being fired stirring her awake at around four in the morning. She was more exhausted when she woke up than when she went to bed.

But despite all of it, her body still buzzed in anticipation of tonight’s class…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @kierramcduffie @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @bitchidontpost @lomlolivia

[planetpedri]

idk if you’re hispanic/latino buttttt i NEED a pedri fic based off the song la santa by bad bunny (if you don’t know spanish you can just translate it and it’ll work jst fine) tyyyy i loveee ur work 🫶🫶

La santa — Pedri Gonzalez.

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Fem!Reader

Summary: You weren’t supposed to fall in love with Pedri, but it happened nonetheless. You knew what you were getting into when it all started and you both knew despite nothing ever going further than casual, you would always come running back.

Word count: 710

Disclaimer/s: Slightly Suggestive (?) , angst

A/N: OOOOH this song is lowk girl i’m nodding my head thank yew. i also really had no clue how to go about this .. i actually hate it so much sorry this was so bummy

Pedri was dressing quickly. Too quickly. You knew you shouldn’t have even proposed the idea of taking the relationship or… whatever you could call it, further. He always got jumpy when you’d ask for him to stay even a few extra minutes.

You leaned back against the headboard, a frown planted tightly against your lips as you watched him zip up his jeans. “Jesus christ, Pedri. It was a simple suggestion! You’re acting like I told you I was pregnant.”

The mans eyes widen as they shoot in your direction, “you aren’t.. pregnant. Right?” That elicited a loud groan from your lips.

“Oh lord.” You rub your temples before looking back to him. He still wore the same expression, nearly making you laugh as you shake your head. “No! I am not.”

“Thank God.” He huffs, reaching for his t-shirt.

You chew on your bottom lip, suddenly annoyed. “You know what? This has to stop. For good.” He continued dressing like you weren’t even speaking, so you add, “I’m serious.”

Pedri sighs, tugging the shirt over his head. “You said that last week, last month, and matter of fact, two days ago. You know damn well it’s not stopping.” His lip twitches at the corners, a smug grin forming ever so slowly.

That just furthered your annoyance because, unfortunately, it was the truth. It also pissed you off because if he’d just take you seriously and stayed away, you wouldn’t crawl back to him every time.

You’d tried to stop sending him that text or responding to his, but you were weak. Your resistance only lasted about five minutes before you caved. You simply couldn’t stay away from Pedri.

“It’s different this time, and you know it! I can’t wait around for you to feel—“

“Woah!” His hands shoot up, stopping you mid sentence. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Your lips clamp shut and your arms cross over your chest. “Well—“

“Cariño, you know it’ll never be reciprocated. You knew this the second we started the whole thing! Cut the lovey dovey act, I don’t need you doing that because I don’t know how to reciprocate it.” He finishes his rant, running a hand over his face as if the whole conversation was one big inconvenience.

Pedri leaned against the wall a few feet from your bedroom door, antsy for an escape yet also not wanting to leave you pissed off at him.

“This was only meant to be a fun thing.” He adds once the silence became deafening.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you frown. “Why though? Why is it such a terrible concept? You care about a lot of things, a lot of people, why would it be so different?”

His eyes dart to the door, he really needed to get out of here. “You know why. Just.. let’s keep this going and you’ll get over it, no? Why are you trying to mess with something thats fine just as it is?”

You were desperately trying to ignore the way your stomach churned at his words. The more he talked, the more you felt your heart sink. You knew damn well there was no changing Pedri and you most definitely knew better than to even have a sliver of hope.

“You’re right.” You finally force out, “no, yeah. I’m sorry I even thought about it.”

The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. Pedri heard it loud and clear and he almost felt guilty. Almost. But at the end of the day, he’d told you how he felt about relationships at the beginning of it all. He knew and you knew, exactly where he stood.

“I’ll see you when I get back from Sevilla, okay?” Pedri sighs, pushing himself off the wall.

Not daring to look at him, you stay quiet for a moment. A weak attempt at pushing him away, but you were just that. Weak.

“Yeah.” You huff, “make sure you lock the door on the way out.”

Pedri lifts one hand as a parting gesture, but you don’t return it and he leaves anyways. He leaves you feeling like an absolute idiot because you know when you get the text that he’s back in town, you’ll be waiting right where he left you.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, specific or all.

DTS , @halfwayhearted , @spidybaby , @gadriezmannsgirl !

[we-were-beautiful]

Unraveled Ends Chapter 2

Pre chapter Shenanigans 

a/n: Sooooo long time no post but I'm here now and that's what matters. Writers block hit me like a brick wall after my last piece that I did for the riders quadrant fic exchange back in July, that piece was only supposed to be 3k in words but ended up around 7.8k. I had been working on this chapter at the same time and had roughly 2k words but after I got through the edits on the gift fic couldn't seem to string together a coherent sentence much less moving the plot forward. all my photos for the moodboard/aesthetic come from pinterest. Last bit of info is that we did pick up two beta readers for this story( but I am always open for more if people want to hop in). So big Thanks to @loving-and-dreaming and @curse-bearing-hips for reviewing this chapter. That said we are all still human so there is more than likely some mistakes. And a huge thanks to @whisplion for inspiring me to write this fic. Hope y’all enjoy  

Summary: A tailor in the heart of Velaris finds herself mated to the two most powerful fae in Prythian. Unfortunately for her the mating bond only snapped for her, leaving her to question on how to move forward. Should she wait for her mates to feel the bond or should she go ahead and reject it and live with the gaping hole in her heart  

Poly!Feysand x Reader 

Warnings: None but there is angst

WC:3.1k

The next few weeks are nothing short of hell. I didn’t know pretending like nothing is wrong would be as exhausting as it has been. It was a never ending cycle of waking up, getting ready, going to work, and coming home. At work I was dancing a fine line of hiding everything from my seamstresses and sister and failing miserably. The only small mercy that I have had was that I haven’t had to see my mates. Thank the mother for that; I don’t know how I would have reacted to seeing them so soon after the bond had snapped. Not seeing them however did nothing to dampen the feelings that the two of them would throw down the bond unknowingly. Deep down  I know that they didn’t mean to send those memories and feelings to me, but on a good day it makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t know why it has gotten worse. I was fine for a year of burying the feelings that I have for the two down.

They were so happy together, and I don’t have a place in their perfect lifestyle. I thought that I had seen them around town a lot when they were just my customers but now it felt like every time I turned around they were there. It has increased since they came in to get their outfits for Starfall designed. I swear I ran into Rhys yesterday when I went to get lunch for myself. I ran into Feyre the other night while I was getting the groceries for my sisters and me. The two of them had actually approached me a week ago while I was at the park with my baby sister. They had little Nyx with them then and it felt like someone had taken a hold of my heart and started squeezing. The babe was adorable at two years of age. He's starting to reign terror on his parents who had apparently decided he needed to run off his energy at the park. The two of them are far more friendly with people than I would have liked, but mostly that friendliness was targeted towards me. As they joined me on the bench sandwiching me between them. They ended up chatting my ear off for the better part of an hour. There brushes of hands against my body that were too well placed to be incidental. It felt like a vice clamping down around my heart as I left the park with my sister to head home. Feyre had wanted me to stay a bit longer so that she could continue talking to me about my sketches. 

The physical interactions with them weren't the worst thing though. It was the images and emotions that the two had unknowingly sent down the bond. It wasn’t unusual to get a flash of lust from one of them at any given time of the day. It was inconvenient to just get hit with the overwhelming need for someone when I’m with clients. Late at night though I get the images. Of my mates tangled up in pleasure. Sometimes it was flashes of Feyre's face screwed up in pleasure; other of Rhys’s eyes alight with lust and desire. Those nights sleep was hard to come by. A few of those nights I found myself back in the shop working on my clients orders, anything to keep my mind from lingering on the two people that didn’t know I was bound to them.  I was surprised to be receiving so much from them down the bond given that both of them are powerful Demati. I figured that they would be skilled at keeping to themselves. 

Last night was one of those sleepless nights. It was a damn near endless barrage of want and need coming from both of them. If I hadn’t known that their mating bond had been accepted between them I would have assumed that they had accepted it last night. I left a note for my middle sister in the kitchen before heading to the shop in the dead of night. Being the night court, plenty of people were milling about the streets and shops in the palace of thread and jewels. Thankfully it isn’t one of the nights we keep the shop open for those who live under the stars, I could work in peace and not be bothered by anyone. No customers, no seamstresses, no nosy sisters, and most importantly no over friendly mates or their friends. 

It was wonderful to sit in the shop and do what I love with my shadows dancing around me. The shadows had been my friends since I was a very small faeling. They were more shy when I was out in public but when it is just me they come to life and sing. I had only seen two other people like me. One was my maternal grandfather who was from a court that had long since been lost; and the other was Azriel. Grandfather was able to teach me how to control the shadows and use them to my advantage. But he also told me to keep the gift to myself. Shadowsingers had long been coveted by the courts to be used as spies; and he and my parents were worried that the former High Lord would have conscripted me into his spy network if it was ever found out. I had successfully kept it a secret for nearly 400 years. Though times like this, when the shop is closed and I have the room to myself, I let them loose. A soft smile grows on my face as I watch the playful shadows dance about the room. A few of them try to be helpful by handing me tools and instruments that I need as I work on Feyre’s Starfall gown. 

Feyre’s dress had been coming along beautifully. She had come in for a fitting last week where we were checking the fit on the mock up. The High Lady had all but begged to have a similar fabric to my own. We had more of the fabric left; thank gods for that; the last thing I wanted to do was take a trip to the Autumn court to source more. I lose track of time working on the dress; so much so that I didn’t realize the sun had risen until I heard the lock on the door turn. 

“Sis, are you still here?” Genevieve calls out. Of course she came here. “I saw your note on the counter this morning. I dropped Itty bitty off at school and brought breakfast.” 

I sigh and set my things down to make my way out of the work room. Genevieve stands in the room looking so much like our mother; hair tied up in a worn red scarf, a dark red linen shirt and comfortable leather trousers. Ready for a day at the blacksmith. In her hands she balances a bag of what I assume is the breakfast and two cups in the other. 

“Your shadows are so helpful I’m jealous.” She passes me one of the cups and I take a sniff and immediately am greeted by the comforting scent of coffee “ Were you here all night again?” 

It's not hard to hear the concern in her voice as she takes a once over of me. 

“Yes” I responded, taking a sip of the delicious coffee that she had brought. 

“Ok what is going on with you.” She cocks her head to the side “It seems like you have been stressed this past year. Well more so than normal. This is starting to get worrisome. The number of times you have left the house in the middle of the night and worked through to morning is ridiculous.”

“What’s going on? I know it's not money since I help with the books and we have two sources of income coming in.” She takes a breath. “You can talk to me Sis.” 

���Let's go into the office. The ladies should be coming in soon.” I led her into my office not wanting to state what was going on when one of my employees could walk in. Once we are in the office I gesture for her to take a seat in front of my desk. I take a seat and my chair, bones creaking as I sit on the soft leather. She fixes me with a look telling me to start talking. 

“So I met my mates.” I sigh running a hand through my hair 

“You met your mate. That's good news right.” She starts rifling through the bag of food 

“Mates. Two of them.” She stops looking up at me 

“Two. Is that possible?” Her eyebrows nearly disappear into her hairline. 

“It is.” I lean back in my chair. “Incredibly rare but possible.” 

“So let me repeat my earlier question. That’s good news right?” 

“It’s complicated.” I bite my lower lip “The two of them are already mated. Sealed the bond and everything. But the bond only snapped for me.” 

“They don’t know.” Her voice drops in concern 

“No,they don’t.” 

“So what is stressing you out about it? You wouldn’t be leaving the house in the middle of the night over nothing?” 

“They are sending things down the bond. Images, emotions; it’s driving me crazy Gen.” 

“Shit, well can you block them out.” Mom had taught the two of us how to shield from Demati when we were younger. 

“I’ve tried; it only is able to dull it.” I fidget in my seat.  “It also doesn’t help that I keep seeing the two of them every time I go out into the city.” 

“Oh..” She hesitates “Do you mind if I ask who it is.?”  I quickly sent a few shadows out to make sure that the shop was still empty and that there were no busy bodies lurking around the shop. 

“It's the High Lord and Lady.” This was the first time I had ever said those words out loud. I guess I had thought that if I didn’t say it then I could pretend it wasn’t real and that it didn’t bother me. Gen lets out a low whistle.

“That does complicate things. I was going to tell you to grow a pair and tell them but fuck. The High Lord and Lady that… that makes things way more complex.” 

“You see why I am stressed now.” I can feel the ugly emotions filling my chest.

“Yeah, you are in the world's shittiest situation.” She lets out a sigh “It's not like you can go up to them and say hey I am your mate. Fuck I am sorry Sis.” 

I let out a wet laugh, a few tears escaped my eyes and rolled down my cheeks “ There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I just got dealt a shitty hand by the mother.” 

“Are you going to…” She trails off. I know what she was going to say though. It wasn’t something that was talked about often and not in polite company. Rejecting the bond. 

“It’s an option, and I am considering it. I want to ask a few friends of mine in Day about it first though. Since it hasn’t snapped for them they shouldn’t notice but I would like some confirmation first.” It helped that I had friends in other courts that I could gather information from; and there was no better place for information than  the Day Court.

“I will support whatever decision you make. You deserve to be happy Sis, and if your happiness is achieved by breaking the bond then do it.” 

The conversation between us dies after that as she passes me a blueberry muffin from the bag. Seems she stopped by our favorite bakery before heading over here. Time seems to fly too quickly and all too soon Gen has to leave for work leaving me here by myself. Although I’m not on my own for too much longer as my employees start trickling in.

The day seems to stretch on and on as clients make their way into the shop for fittings or to pick up their orders. The dull chatter of my employees and the various customers buzzes in my ears as I methodically pull a small needle through water-like silk. It's hard to make out any distinguishable conversation from behind my office door. Today seems like one of those days when time is just suspended and I can work in peace. There is a quiet content hum from my mates bond; one of the few times that I haven't felt heightened emotions from either of them. 

A soft knock shatters the silence of the office, effectively breaking the spell of tranquility that had fallen over me 

“Come in.” My voice cracks just a bit from not using it. The door squeaks open as a familiar head of midnight hair pokes in. Violet eyes twinkle in amusement as a smile grows across his stupidly handsome face. 

“Sweetheart!” The door swings open the rest of the way as Rhysand swaggers his way into my office like he owns it. I am quick to stand from my desk. 

“High lord.” I give him a polite curtsy, slamming my mental shields up before meeting his gaze

“How many times do I have to tell you it's Rhys?” He laughs before taking a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of my desk. “ So are you ready for my fitting or should I come back later.”  

Shit… Shit shit shit. I had completely forgotten that he was on my books for his second fitting today. It wasn’t like I was completely unprepared. No his suit was ready for the fitting but I was nowhere near mentally prepared for a fitting and not having slept the night before was going to be the actual death of me. 

“No, you are fine.” I move from behind the desk “Let me go grab your suit and we will get you out of here in no time.” 

“No need to rush, I quite enjoy your company.” I cannot afford to focus on my racing heart right now. I need to get him out of this shop as quickly as possible. I move through the back of the shop with practiced ease quickly locating the High Lord’s suit hanging neatly next to the High Lady’s gown. The two pieces were works of art in themselves that compliment each other. The suit as dark as the night sky embossed fabric giving the illusion of swirling depths. The dress flowed off the hanger like liquid moonlight, the delicate silk the identical twin to my own gown. Small gems sewn into the bodice catch and reflect the light like the stars that will make their journey across the sky on Starfall. For as much as I don’t want to care about the two, these pieces tell a different story. If I wasn’t just a little bit attached to the two of them I would have passed the designs along to another dressmaker and been done with it; but now I painstakingly designed and sewn these garments for my mates. I let out a small sigh before reaching up to grab the suite. Once I get back to my office I am quick to pass the suit off to Rhys directing him to the small changing area at the back of the office. I quickly begin to route around my desk for my supplies.  

An hour, all I have to do is make it an hour and then I will be free of Rhysand for the time being. It feels like forever before he walks out from behind the curtain. It is only years of working with Rhysand that keeps me from gasping out. If the suit was beautiful on the hanger and dress form it is absolutely stunning on the male it was made for. Rhys makes his way over to the platform and mirror in the office stepping up before moving to fuss with the cuffs. 

“This is a beautiful suit Sweetheart.” He moves to pick off the smallest piece of lint on the  collar. I move to stand behind him to begin the process of adjusting the way the suit sits on Rhysand.

We continued the song and dance that we had done for many years to get the suit to fit him perfectly. I can't help the small ache in my chest as I circle around him placing pins and chalk lines where minute alterations need to be made. Rhys is beaming the whole time chatting away like we hadn’t seen each other just the other day. I can feel the long day in my bones, my hands ache from the countless hours of work. My fingertips are raw from the amount of times I have jammed pins and needles into them. While I try to appropriately match Rhys energy, it's easy to tell that he isn’t buying the act. 

“You seem tired.” He arches a brow at me as I move to pin the hem of his pants. 

“My mates kept me up last night.” A mischievous glint grows in his violet eyes.

“Oh. They kept you up .” He teased but hidden in the back of his teasing tone seemed to be a bit of jealousy… possessiveness. 

“Yeah the two of them kept sending all of their emotions down the bond last night.” I sigh looking up at him from my spot on the floor 

“Two mates…” He stumbles with his words. He hasn’t done that since he was a teen and I was helping my father with his fitting “The mother has blessed you.” 

“Blessed or cursed.” I put the pins down. 

“Cursed.” He questions

“The bond only snapped for me.” A small sad smile grows on my face.  My mental shields are intact and stronger than ever and it's not like I can tell Rhys that he and Feyre are my mates. 

“Have you told them?” He questions, holding a hand out to help me from the floor 

“No. The two of them have already sealed the bond and have started their own perfect little family.” It feels like an Illyrian has punched me in the gut as I make this confession to him “I don’t want to ruin that for them.” 

“So what are you planning to do?” He tilts his head looking at me in sympathy “ Because you seem to have wilted these past few months. 

“I have a few things I am thinking about doing. I want to seek out a few friends in Day first before committing to it.”

“Committing to what Sweetheart?” he gazes at me with concern 

“Breaking the bond.” And as those words leave my lips you can see the color drain from his face.

Tag list: @rachelnicolee @goldenmagnolias @jesssicapanigua @sweetorangeblossom @cat-or-kitten @alowint @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @coldpeachkitten @esposadomd @araneea92 @saltedcoffeescotch @persephonesalvatore

[kckt88]

Scorched Hearts XIV

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

Aemond wallows in his grief over Valaena.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Grief, Desperation, Heartbreak, Talks of Euthanasia, Attempt at Euthanasia.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 4465

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

The days had blurred into an endless stream of anxious hours. Aemond stared wordlessly out the window, his gaze vacant, face drawn and pale.

It had been over two weeks since Valaena had slipped into unconsciousness, and each day she remained silent, Aemond felt himself slipping further into despair.

Gerardys attended to Valaena daily, meticulously ensuring she received nourishment and care, his expression tightening each time Aemond asked if there was any sign of improvement.

Lirri and Arro had taken to caring for the children, who missed their mother terribly, not fully understanding what was going on.

Aemond himself had hardly eaten or slept. His usually pristine silver hair hung tangled, his appearance dishevelled. He spent nearly every hour by Valaena’s side, laying beside her, listening to the soft, rhythmic beat of her heart.

Sometimes, he would clutch her hand and sob, his pleas spilling out in quiet desperation, “Please-please, my love, come back to me. I can’t live without you.”

Family and friends came often, each one sharing their love, speaking as though their words alone could bring her back.

Rhaenyra would sit by her daughter’s side, clutching her hand, and Daemon would stand nearby, his hand occasionally brushing over Valaena’s dark hair.

Jace and Luke shared stories, speaking of their own daughters and laughing softly, trying to bring warmth into the room.

Alicent held Aemond often, her own tears mingling with his as she begged him to eat, to rest, to care for himself.

But nothing anyone did or said could reach him.

Even his new, unnamed son, waiting to be held by his father, had yet to meet him.

Aemond refused to see him, insisting that he would wait until Valaena could be there too.

One afternoon, as Gerardys was finishing his usual checks, Aemond whispered, “Is there any change?”

Gerardys let out a weary sigh and shook his head. “I’m afraid not, my prince.”

Aemond’s heart dropped, his gaze fixed on Valaena’s still face. He hardly noticed when Gerardys left the room.

There was a knock on the door, and Aegon stepped in, his expression shifting as he saw his brother’s grief-stricken face.

“What did he say?” Aegon asked quietly, already dreading the answer.

Aemond’s voice was barely a whisper. “There’s no improvement. S-She still won’t wake.” His voice broke, and he turned away, clutching the edge of the bed as though it could anchor him. “What if she never does?” he gasped, his face crumpling. “I-I can’t lose her, Aegon. I just can’t.”

Aegon crossed the room, wrapping his arm around Aemond’s shoulders. “Hey-it’s okay,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “Let it out.”

Aemond resisted, but only for a moment before he collapsed against Aegon, his body racked with sobs.

“W-What if she doesn’t wake up. I can’t lose her” he choked, the raw fear and sorrow cutting through every word.

“You won’t lose her,” Aegon murmured, his voice steady even as his own heart twisted painfully.

He had rarely seen Aemond cry, and never with such anguish.

Quietly, he brushed his fingers through Aemond’s tangled hair, trying to comfort him as best he could.

“Is she not responding at all?” Aegon asked gently after a few moments.

“N-No,” Aemond replied, his voice hoarse “How am I supposed to live without her?”

Aegon took a deep breath and, with quiet certainty, said, “You won’t have to. Valaena will come back to you. She loves you too much to leave you—not after everything you two went through just to be together.”

“I-I just—”

“No,” Aegon interrupted, his voice firm. “You listen to me. Valaena loves you, and she will come back. She’s fighting her way back to you, I know it.”

Aemond took a shaky breath, nodding as he wiped his tears furiously. He glanced at Valaena, his heart aching with every beat.

“I hope you’re right, Aegon,” he whispered. “I really, really do.”

Days passed, and Aemond felt hope slipping through his fingers. Each morning, as he opened his eye beside Valaena’s still form, the weight of despair grew heavier.

His sister, Helaena, would visit frequently, talking in her quiet, lilting voice about crickets and how they would all sing together again.

Although he didn’t understand her words fully, he found comfort in them—a flicker of brightness in the midst of his grief.

Rhaegar and Elaena would bring small bouquets of flowers, placing them tenderly by their mother’s side.

Daenys, too young to understand, would pat her mother’s arm, murmuring, “Mama, mama,” in her small, confused voice.

Each of her innocent touches and soft calls felt like a dagger to Aemond’s heart.

He tried to stay strong for them, though with each passing day, it felt like his own strength was crumbling.

However, on one of Gerardys' routine visits, the tension reached breaking point.

Gerardys moved from one side of the bed to the other, checking Valaena’s pulse and her pallor.

His sigh was heavy, and his eyes held none of the hope Aemond longed to see.

“It has been over four weeks,” Gerardys said gravely. “And still, there is no sign of improvement.”

Aemond’s hands gripped Rhaenyra’s tightly, his heart pounding painfully. When he glanced at his good mother, he saw her own pain mirrored in her eyes.

“Is there truly nothing more you can do?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice strained with desperation.

“I am afraid not, Your Grace,” Gerardys replied, shaking his head. “I have tried everything within my knowledge and means. The princess simply does not respond.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, and his voice came out rough, nearly a whisper. “If she doesn’t wake up what will happen to her?”

Gerardys hesitated, his expression a mix of compassion and sorrow. “If she remains in this state, it is likely her body will eventually begin to weaken, and she may pass away-but there are also ways to help her pass-to end her suffering”

Aemond's brow furrowed. “What do you mean, help her pass?”

Gerardys looked between Aemond and Rhaenyra who nodded before speaking. “The Queen and I, along with her council have discussed the possibility of administering a high dose of sweet sleep to the Princess. It would allow her to pass peacefully.”

For a moment, Aemond was too stunned to respond, his mind reeling. “You-you want to kill her?”

“Please, my prince,” Gerardys said, raising a placating hand. “Allow me to explain—”

“Get out” Aemond’s voice was a low, dangerous whisper, but his expression blazed with fury.

Rhaenyra reached for him, pleading softly, “Aemond, please. Try to understand that—”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”  His shout rang through the room, raw and filled with rage and pain.

Without another word, Gerardys bowed his head and quickly left the room, and Rhaenyra followed after him, her shoulders slumped.

As soon as they were gone, Aemond rushed to the door, slamming it shut and locking it behind them.

He turned back to Valaena, his chest heaving. Sitting by her side, he took her hand in his, pressing it to his lips.

“I won’t let them- I won’t let them take you from me-” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Aemond clutched her hand, drawing it to his heart. He sat like that for hours, unmoving, praying that somewhere deep within, she could hear him.

Aemond barred the door to the room, turning away every visitor, every knock, every entreaty to let someone in. He didn’t want anyone near Valaena, didn’t want anyone near them.

He was done with their attempts to comfort him or, worse, convince him to let her go.

As he sat slumped against the wall, Gerardys’ words replayed over and over in his mind: that she may never awaken, that her body would weaken until eventually, she would pass.

The suggestion of sweet sleep to ease her passing had ignited anger so fierce it had consumed him, but now, in the stillness, that anger simmered into something else entirely—.

The ache in his chest was so raw, so all-consuming, that he felt as if he were being hollowed out from the inside, his heart twisted into a mass of pain he could barely breathe around.

The thought of her slipping further and further away, of her body growing frailer with each day, was like a knife twisting in his heart.

He didn’t want her to waste away; he didn’t want her to be in pain.

Slowly, he got to his feet and approached the bed, his gaze fixed on Valaena’s face.

She was so beautiful—ethereal, almost as if she were caught between this world and another.

Her skin was pale, but her features were softened, the gentle rise and fall of her chest was the only sign of life, and with every second, he feared it would be the last.

Even in this slumber, she was radiant, a vision of the fierce and tender woman he loved more than life itself.

It was almost cruel, the way her beauty remained undisturbed, untouched by the weight of what they were enduring.

He couldn’t look away; he was terrified that if he did, he’d forget this moment, the way she looked, lost in a place he could not reach.

In his mind, she was still full of life, laughing, fierce and strong. He closed his eye, recalling her strength, the fire in her gaze that had captivated him from the beginning.

Wanting to remember her as she was.

Aemond picked up a pillow, clutching it in his shaking hands. He remembered what she had said to him in their cabin.

‘Just promise me one thing. If I am to die, I would rather it be by your hand’

She’d made him promise. The thought of letting her linger in this half-life, slipping further from him, made him feel like he was failing her.

Taking a shaky breath, he lifted the pillow, his vision blurring as he held it above her face.

Every fibre in his being screamed at him to let her go, to do the one thing he could do to free her from this endless silence.

But standing here, the pillow shaking in his hands, he couldn’t bear it.

Looking down at her face, so still and beautiful, he saw the traces of her smile, the faint lines around her eyes from all their laughter, all the quiet moments they’d shared.

Memories surged forward—Valaena laughing, Valaena fierce and defiant, Valaena holding their children.

His hand dropped slightly, then his grip loosened, and the pillow slipped from his fingers onto the floor.

He stumbled back, horrified at what he had almost done. He pressed a hand to his mouth, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps.

“I-I can’t do it,” he whispered, his voice breaking. His chest felt as though it would shatter from the weight of it all. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, “I’m so sorry-”

Weakly, he lowered himself to his knees by the bed, clutching the sheets as he buried his face in them.

“Please come back to me,” he whispered, his voice raw with desperation. “Please, I can’t do this without you. I don’t know exist without you.”

After a long, silent moment, he pulled himself up, he leaned forward and kissed her gently on her lips before he laid down on the bed, drawing her close.

He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his forehead to her shoulder, feeling the faint warmth of her skin.

 “Sleep as long as you need to, love. I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll take care of you.”

With his arms wrapped around her, he rested his head beside hers, feeling the faint warmth of her skin against his own.

As he drifted off to sleep, he let himself hope—fragile, desperate hope—that somewhere, somehow, she could hear him.

Aemond was soaring through a vast, endless sky, the blue stretching out forever above him, beneath him, and all around.

Vhagar’s mighty wings carried him effortlessly as he glanced over to see Valaena riding alongside him, Silverwing gliding through the air.

Her dragon’s silver scales gleamed in the sunlight, and Valaena herself was laughing—a bright, carefree sound that echoed around them.

Aemond felt joy fill him as he watched her lean forward, urging Silverwing into a dive. She tucked her wings close to her body and plunged toward the glittering sea below, the wind rushing past in a blur of motion.

At the last moment, Silverwing pulled up, wings slicing across the ocean’s surface so close that sprays of water fanned out behind her, shimmering in the sunlight.

Aemond laughed, his voice echoing with pride and exhilaration, as he shouted, “Show-off!”

Valaena threw her head back in laughter, her dark hair streaming in the wind, her voice bright and filled with a joy he hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime.

But suddenly, a flash of blinding light tore across the sky, so fierce that he instinctively shielded his face.

Blinking, he looked around in panic. “Valaena!” he shouted, desperation cracking his voice. “Don’t go towards it—stay by my side!”

Her laughter faded, replaced by a strange, echoing silence.

Then, her voice drifted through the air, soft but clear. “Is not my time,” she said, her words rippling through the air like a gentle breeze.

“No, not yet. Come with me,” he pleaded, his heart hammering in his chest.

Valaena hesitated, glancing toward the bright light in the distance.

But then she turned Silverwing, guiding her away from the beckoning glow.

She followed him, and together, they flew back toward King’s Landing, circling the Red Keep in unison before landing in a green, sunlit meadow just outside the walls.

Aemond descended from Vhagar’s saddle, climbing down the sturdy rope ladder.

He barely had time to turn before Valaena was there, sliding gracefully down Silverwing’s wing and landing with a soft thud on the grass.

Aemond felt his breath catch as he closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent, feeling her warmth against him, tangible and solid.

He whispered against her ear, “I love you-”

Before she could reply, footsteps sounded in the distance. Aemond turned to see Helaena approaching, her eyes soft and distant, a serene smile playing across her lips. She tilted her head, meeting his gaze.

“The crickets will sing together again,” she said quietly, her voice lilting with a familiar, otherworldly calm.

Aemond furrowed his brow, confusion knitting his expression. “Helaena, what—?”

But before he could finish, she turned and walked away, humming softly to herself, her voice fading into the distance.

Aemond glanced back at Valaena, who simply shrugged and took his hand. She looked at him, her gaze warm and full of affection.

“Let’s go home,” she murmured, her voice soft and comforting, her words echoing around him as the world began to fade.

Aemond’s eye fluttered open, the remnants of the dream lingering as a dull ache in his chest.

For a brief, beautiful moment, he half-expected to see Valaena there beside him, her smile bright, her eyes filled with that warm, knowing light.

But as he blinked, the cold darkness of the room settled around him, and the fog of sleep cleared, allowing the painful truth to seep in.

It had only been a dream.

Reality crashed over him like a tidal wave, and he clenched his fists, feeling an unbearable weight in his chest.

The vividness of the dream—the warmth of her laughter, the thrill of flying together, the strength of her arms around him—had felt so real, so heartbreakingly close.

But now, she lay beside him unmoving, locked in a silent slumber.

Aemond let out a shuddering breath as he realized how foolish it had been, to believe even for a second that she might have woken, that she might be well again.

A faint spark of hope that had flickered in his chest during the dream faded, replaced by a hollow, gnawing grief.

He turned toward her, studying her face—the face that had smiled at him moments ago, so vibrant and alive.

But now, her expression was empty, serene but lifeless, her shallow breaths offering a miniscule amount of comfort.

He reached out, his hand hovering over hers, hesitant, as if to touch her would shatter the fragile illusion he’d clung to in the haze of sleep.

His fingers brushed over her cold skin, and he felt an ache so deep it threatened to unravel him.

Aemond drifted into another restless sleep, but a faint sensation roused him—a delicate brush of movement against his hand.

At first, he thought he was still dreaming, that his mind was playing tricks on him.

But the gentle twitch continued, soft and real, grounding him back in the present.

His eye flew open, heart pounding, and he looked in disbelief as Valaena’s fingers moved, curling ever so slightly against his.

He sat up with a jolt, staring at her face.

Her eyelids fluttered, and then they slowly opened.

 With a quiet gasp, he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing across her soft skin. "I knew you'd come back to me," he whispered, voice breaking with relief and disbelief.

Tears spilled from his eye as he leaned down, pressing his face into the curve of her neck, his arms wrapping around her protectively. "Thank the gods-”

Aemond felt her hand, still weak, but unmistakably real, move to rest on his head. Her fingers stroked gently through his unkempt hair, a familiar, tender gesture.

A shiver ran through him as he held her closer, feeling the weight of his anguish begin to lift, replaced by an overwhelming wave of gratitude and love.

For a long moment, he stayed there, sobbing quietly, pouring weeks of heartache and fear into her presence.

Valaena’s touch anchored him, assuring him of her return.

When he finally looked up, her gaze met his, tired but warm, filled with a quiet strength. His heart clenched as he took her face in his hands, memorizing every detail.

"I was so afraid," he murmured, voice trembling. "Afraid I'd lost you forever."

She managed a faint smile, her eyes filled with the same love that had carried them through every trial before this.

 "I’m here," she whispered hoarsely, her voice barely more than a breath. "I’m here, my love."

Aemond kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, and finally her lips, a desperate and reverent touch, as though it might bind her to him forever.

And for the first time in weeks, he felt peace.

“Our son?” Valaena’s voice was soft, hoarse from the long silence she’d endured during her coma, but it was full of that familiar warmth Aemond had missed so much.

Aemond’s smile faltered, and he looked down at her. His heart ached to see the longing in her eyes, but he kept his voice steady as he responded, “I haven’t seen him, not yet.”

Valaena frowned slightly. “Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but her gaze searching his face for an answer.

“I-I wanted us to see him together,” Aemond said, his throat tightening at the memory of the promise he’d made to her, the one he had struggled to hold on to in the weeks since her coma.

Valaena’s lips curved into a gentle smile, a glimmer of her usual warmth returning. “Can we see him now?” she asked, her eyes softening.

Aemond nodded and stood up, walking toward the door. His heart swelled as he imagined the moment when Valaena would finally get to hold their child. He unlocked the door and called for Lirri.

A few moments later, Lirri appeared, her expression concerned as she saw Aemond’s face. “What’s wrong, my prince?” she asked quietly.

“Could you bring me the babe?” Aemond asked, his voice low.

Lirri nodded and, without hesitation, disappeared into her chambers. A few minutes later, she returned, carrying a small, swaddled bundle in her arms.

She gently placed the baby into Aemond’s arms, and he held the tiny form, feeling the weight of it settle against his chest.

“Thank you, Lirri,” Aemond said, his voice filled with gratitude. He shut the door behind her and returned to Valaena’s side.

With a tender smile, he carefully placed their son on her chest. Valaena’s breath hitched, her eyes wide with wonder as she gazed down at the small bundle, her fingers trembling as she lightly traced the baby’s tiny features.

“He looks just like you,” she whispered, her voice full of awe as she stared at the baby.

Aemond couldn’t help but smile as he looked at their son, his heart filled with a profound love that he could barely put into words.

He stroked his son’s cheek gently, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry that I waited this long to meet you properly,” he murmured, regret lacing his words.

Valaena reached out, her hand taking his in a gentle, soothing gesture. She kissed his palm softly, and Aemond’s eye closed briefly at the touch.

When she pulled away, her gaze returned to their son, her expression tender.

“Does he have a name?” she asked, her voice quiet, almost like a prayer.

Aemond’s eyes met hers, his heart heavy with the weight of their shared decision. “No,” he replied softly. “I wanted to wait for you.”

Valaena’s lips curled into a small, affectionate smile. “I’d like to name him Aemon, in honour of his father,” she said, her eyes sparkling with love.

Aemond chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked, teasing, though his heart swelled with affection.

Valaena nodded with certainty, her eyes warm with emotion. “I’m sure.”

Aemond stroked the baby’s soft silver hair, a tear threatening to fall as he marvelled at the life they had created together.

“Aemon,” he whispered, the name tasting like hope and promise. “He may look like me but he’ll grow up to be strong. Just like you.”

“Now’s not the time for Strong jokes my love” said Valaena,

“Time and a place. I know” replied Aemond smiling slightly.

Valaena shifted slightly, her eyes filled with concern as she looked up at Aemond. “You look so tired,” she said, her voice gentle.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Aemond admitted, his gaze dropping to their son. “Not since you’ve been in the coma.”

Valaena’s brow furrowed, and she gave a soft gasp. “How long was it?” she asked.

“Just over a month,” Aemond said, his voice tight as the pain of that time resurfaced.

Valaena’s eyes widened. “A-A month. What about our other children?”

Aemond placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “They’ve been well taken care of,” he said gently. “They visit often. The flowers over there are from Rhaegar and Elaena.”

Valaena nodded slowly, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She looked at the flowers with longing. “I want to see them,” she said, her voice breaking.

Aemond smiled softly. “Tomorrow, I’ll bring them to you,” he promised.

Valaena shifted again, the weight of the baby becoming too much for her.

Aemond gently scooped Aemon up, cradling him in his arms and rocking him softly as he looked at Valaena with concern.

“What’s wrong?” Aemond asked, his voice laced with worry.

Valaena’s gaze was sad as she watched Aemond care for their son. “I can’t even hold my son properly,” she murmured, the pain of her weakness clear in her eyes.

“You’ve just woken up from a month-long coma,” Aemond reminded her softly. “It’s going to take time to build your strength back.”

Valaena nodded, a sad smile flickering on her lips. “When will you tell my mother I’m awake?”

Aemond sighed, a small chuckle escaping him. “Not yet,” he said. “I want to keep you to myself for a little longer.”

The soft cry of their son brought Aemond’s attention back to the baby. He carefully opened the door noticing Lirri waiting outside in the hallway.

“Lirri,” Aemond said quietly, “He’s hungry. The wetnurse will need to be summoned.” As he placed his son gently into her arms

“Is my lady well?” asked Lirri.

“She’s awake”

Lirri smiled widely. “Does the prince have a name?” she asked softly.

“Aemon,” Aemond replied, a proud smile on his face.

Lirri smiled warmly “A good name-it suits him well”

“Don’t tell anyone that Valaena is awake,” he said softly. “I need a bit more time with her.”

Lirri gave a small nod. “I understand, my prince,” she said before slipping back into her chambers.

Aemond returned to the bed and sat beside Valaena, his heart light for the first time in so long.

He laid down next to her, his hand gently brushing her face. She was so tired, but there was a quiet contentment in her eyes as she watched him.

“I’ve been asleep for a month,” Valaena murmured, her voice faint, “yet I feel so tired.”

Aemond smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It’s okay, my love. Sleep. Rest.”

Valaena’s eyes fluttered closed, and she whispered softly, “I love you.”

Aemond kissed her forehead gently. “I love you too,” he whispered back, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close.

Just as the gentle rhythm of her breathing steadied.

"I dreamt we were flying," Valaena murmured, her words barely a whisper.

Aemond froze, his chest tightening at the sound. He looked down at her, her eyes closed, her face soft and peaceful as she rested.

The vulnerability of the moment struck him, but there was something else in her words, something that tugged at his heart.

"Flying?" Aemond whispered.

Valaena stirred slightly, the corners of her lips lifting as though recalling the fleeting images of her dream.

“Yes, with you,” she murmured, her voice still heavy with the weight of sleep. "You on Vhagar, me on Silverwing-The sky so blue and endless. There was a light, you wouldn’t let me go-and the crickets they sing together again"

Aemond’s heart caught in his throat. The images she spoke of mirrored his own dream so closely, it almost felt as if they had shared the same vision.

For a moment, he dared to believe that her mind was reaching out to him, somehow connecting in a space beyond reality.

Her hand twitched slightly in her sleep, and he gently took it in his, his grip tight, as if holding on to a memory, a hope that perhaps, just perhaps, she could hear him, could feel him there.

And as the weight of their shared grief, their joy, and their love settled over them, Aemond finally allowed himself to close his eyes, drifting off to sleep with Valaena nestled safely in his arms.

TBC

[detective-shirogane124]

Canto 7 Pt 2 Reaction

PROJECT MOON, YOU'VE GOT ME BEYOND FUCKED UP.

Hey. Huh? What? What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?

(Minor reactions first)

Hong Lu, buddy, your Canto is going to be so fucking depressing.

Found family. Found family. FOUND FAMILY. FOUND FAMILY.

Bro, I don't even ship DonSin but this is so goddamn cute. I'm glad they mentioned the whole incident back in Canto 3.

Babygirl....

Why are the fuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUuuuucking shoes s e n t i e n t? (Yeah I know it's been implied but I was praying it would be debunked lololol)

HWAT

W H A T?

The whole time. The whole time. ITS BEEN THERE THE WHOLE TIME. DON QUIXOTE IS ACTUALLY SANCHO. I DEADASS COULDN'T HAVE PREDICTED THIS. But it makes soo much goddamn sense. The original novel has Don Quixote be a pseudonym the entire time, so of course it makes sense to reveal that our Don isn't actually named Don Quixote. I WASNT FUCKING PREPARED FOR HER TO BE SANCHO THOUGH.

So who the fuck is talking to the other kindred? I'm assuming it's homeboy that's been here the whole time. But my god. I was questioning how the hell they were gonna one up Canto 6's part 2 cliffhanger, this sure as shit is one way to do it. I'm physically screaming right now. How am I supposed to wait till next week for this shit?

[jimmysea]

Finally, we're really together.

MY STAND-IN (2024) - Episode 11

[totheecore]

Buddie in 911 7x06 | There Goes The Groom (Promo )

[griefpersevering]

i can't stop giggling at the people saying they're "so disappointed" in agatha for killing alice... babes the show is named after the song famous serial killer agatha sings while announcing she killed a dog

[farfromstrange]

IWTV spoilers, but.

Daniel Malloy really said ‘fuck you, Armand’, exposed 70+ years of lies and ended their relationship. Wouldn’t surprise me if he tweeted #teamloustat before Armand turned him, either. Good for him honestly. Good for him.

(more rambling in the tags)

[currenthyperf1xat1ons]

⚠️ vague spoilers for juno steel and the terrible waste pt 1 ⚠️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i think my favorite juno steel introduction so far is “lovesick moron”

second only to “i think it’s safe to say ive got it bad”

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Goddamn, we are getting such good shows to wrap up the year. And they're all so different!

But god do I adore Idol Factory for going all in on the action/supernatural BL, because there's a reason that there are a million books in this genre, and it's ridiculous no one has capitalized on it yet.

The chemistry between Billy & Babe, fucking hell.

I just love that mix of both sweetness and being brats to each other as they figure out their feelings.

I also really appreciate the boys being set up as actually intelligent and asking good questions, because so often series will tell but not show when people are supposed to be smart. (Although this is of course fantasy in all of them having such noble goals in wanting to be cops).

Also, nice slide in of some exposition! What happened to Tharn's dad? Is it related to his reincarnation?

Ok, Thongthai!! I see that snatched little waist.

I just love the cinematography in this show, especially the night & water scenes. They got someone who knows their shit, and it shows.

So Phaya was lured back into the water, and at first I thought it was something bad using the image of mermaid Freen to trick him, but then he wasn't actually harmed? Was it to get Tharn to come to him?

See, I keep going back and forth on if the Lieutenant Tam thing is real or just a setup to get them to investigate. If it was real, and truly dangerous, wouldn't the supervisors be freaking out a lot more?

But damn, I love all of these losers.

Ooh, ok, I was wondering if all of them were connected, not just Phaya & Tharn! And the show is saying yes!

If just them flirting makes me this insane, I may not survive a full on relationship.

Oh yeah, we are in full on "no one touches this man on my watch" mode.

These idiots are the worst wingmen alive. Stop torturing Tharn! He isn't going to say shit, and Yai, you know that!!!

Damn, the way they physically react to each other. Phaya literally couldn't stop himself from kissing his forehead.

They are playing the intensity between them so damn well.

Oh, shit! Chalothon has arrived! And already knows Tharn! Drama!! (Also, hi Heng baby, missed you!)

This is definitely the show that is going to torture me the most having to wait week to week. Oof.

[youngestdaughteroftheuniverse]

Puppet History Season 5 Episode 5 - Whatever the last fifteen minutes were

[purplewilmon]

THEY'RE COMING BACK TO US!

[the---hermit]

Update on my magnus podcasts listening situation rn

tma (i lost track of what relistening this is jglglkglg I am def closer to 10 than 5 and I can tell you this won't be the last): just started s4 and I am still noticing little details I had missed in the past/forgot, and there's a few things that support some of my tmagp theories.

tmagp: [INTENSE SCREAMING]