#i am literally so happy thank you distress i love you sm

[satoruzlove]

I AM THINKING SOOO HARD ABOUT MODERN DAY COLLEGE! MIKASA, EREN AND ARMIN!!!! HAVING A FRIEND GROUP W THEM!!!!!

like , okay , eren being that one guy that everyone knows but no one ever really talks to. people smile at him and greet him in the halls but he’s only ever with you, mika and armin between lectures. he’s a sports science major, he’s always at the campus gym or in the library on his laptop doing research. like he’s actually so good at what he’s into. he always has his hair half up, half down, he has a dog tag with his mum’s name on it and he has this wooden bead bracelet he never seems to take off. when he’s nervous [ usually when exam results are being passed out] he’s always fiddling with it. sometimes if he’s REALLY dazed he’ll have his dog tag between his lips and his pupils are all unfocused. he wears a lot of black, mainly heavily distressed jeans, sweats and jumpers. !!! IS A VANS GUY!!!! he draws on the sole of them and has yours, mikasa’s and armin’s names on them. </33333

he’s also the asshole of your group😭 like armin will just be putting on his glasses and eren just takes them and walks, he dead legs mikasa all the time and his favorite hobby is stealing your stationary for no good reason. 😭😭 he also acts like he’s never seen the things he took in his life. he uses armin’s head as an arm rest all the time, he LOVESSSS to ruffle yours and mikasa’s hair all the time, he can actually be pretty touchy. has a habit of fiddling with you guys. a lot of people on campus are like?? what the fuck when hes got an arm around mikasa’s shoulders or if hes got an arm around yours / armin’s cus hes just unconsciously very affectionate </3 bring it up and he’ll throw you.

armin who is a nursing student that i could literally ingest fully. he’s shorter compared to eren, he’s more well known because of how sweet he is and girls LOVEEE HIM. everywhere y’all go girls greet him and compliment his outfit, he’s always so bashful about it and sometimes eren will absolutely RUIN IT LIKE😭😭 “morning armin!!! i love ur hair today!!” “ good morning!! thank u sm urs is pret-“ “ hEYY ARMIN REMEMBER WHEN YOU PISSED THE BED💓💓💓💓” LMAOAOOAOAKAKAKAKAN 😭😭😭 mikasa has slapped his arms so many times bcus armin always feels so embarrassed, he walks away so fast and drags you with him while mikasa scolds him. poor baby. ARMIN’S STYLE!!!!!>>> he wears a lot of graphic tee’s in a more neutral colour, and then a dress shirt over, lots of cargo pants and air forces, specifically the ones with pastel details on them!!! he likes taking your jewellery so you two match a lot , it makes him so happy!!

he’s a grad student , his grades are so good. his gpa is like 3.8 mainly cus he has very bad exam anxiety, but he studies very often and his notes are so cool!! he’s an absolute master at diagrams , he has an eye for copy and pasting it just by looking at them and sketching. sometimes he gets really into it, and his glasses are almost falling off his face so you push them up for him. he always thanks you really quietly and squeezes the hand you used</333 his ears are secretly all pink and he’s smiling at his textbook</33333333 him and mikasa are an absolute power duo!!! they tend to bully eren and depending on how much of a rat he’s being , you either defend or bully him. you and eren are probably the more chaotic ones, tbh . ARMIN LOOOVES going on coffee dates with you guys!!! like you all go out when it’s chilly, sometimes you guy all hold hands and walk down the street 😭😭😭 and then you go in, chat, make jokes and take cute pictures just to destress after the long week at uni. it’s so pure and the pictures are stuff like all your drinks next to eachother, mikasa and eren hugging and pretending to make out😭😭, armin having a milk moustache and you almost dropping your drink all over yourself.

MIKASA IS A BUSINESS MAJOUR AND OH MY GOD SHE’S LIKE A ROBOT? if she’s half asleep and you asked her what the factors of production are she knows all of them are their remunerations too😭 she’s another one who’s super passionate and hard working , she loves the validation of knowing she did her best and she adores when you guys tell her that she’s done well): her teachers adore her, they all call her by her first name and her favorite one calls her mika after she heard eren calling her that!!</3333 she has a rly sophisticated dressing style, a lot of pleaded pants and turtle necks, leather jackets and very sleek jewellery. she has naturally fluffy brows and eyelashes so she doesn’t wear much makeup unless she’s feeling spicy 🤭 she also always has her nails as a deep wine red colour, it makes her look like a business woman. i’m drooling.

her books are all neat, everything about her is so pretty and elegant. she’s another kinda affectionate person but she’s sooo low-key about it lmao. like if y’all walk together she’ll walk on the open side of the sidewalk, she likes linking pinkies and loves holding onto armin/eren’s arm when she walks, or she basically attaches herself to your side. she’s always coddling you and armin,telling you to watch where you walk, reminding you to take vitamins, small things that show her affection for you</33 with eren she’s a bit less obvious about it and she’s AGGRESSIVE like randomly in your shared apartment and you’ll hear “ fuck you im not doing that” “it’s good for you asshole” “go away” and you’re like??? armin can u hear that but he’s already so done LMAO but he loves her anyway. she always tells armin how sweet he is and eren gets so pissy

just. them<3

[theforgottenmcrmy]

Vipers~ Part 1/3 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall part 13 of the series “Growing Strong”. The masterlist, and part 1, can be found HERE. ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, mentions of of previous death of characters, Larys Strong is a warning in and of himself

Summary: As the family heeds Princess Rhaenyra’s extended invitation and travels to Dragonstone, Ser Vaemond’s petition to be declared heir to Driftmark creates a sudden need for a side venture to King’s Landing. This does not sit well with Harwin. At all.

A/N: Guess who's back. I apologize for my particularly long delay this time. For compensation, I hope you accept these next three parts. They're pretty hefty, and there's a great deal covered. Took a while to put the entire parts together, but I'm happy with how they turned out, and I hope you can enjoy them as well. I’m so excited for y’all to see what happens over these next few parts.🖤

Part 2 will be posted on Wednesday 12/21, and Part 3 will be posted on Friday 12/23. Until then, I hope you have a good week!🖤🖤🖤

PS, I recently hit 800 followers, and I’m literally shooketh. Thank you sm, love each and every one of yas🖤🖤🖤

It had been a long evening in the Red Keep.

But for Lord Larys Strong, Master of Whisperers, the night had only just begun.

“Are you certain?”

Larys appraised Queen Alicent Hightower thoughtfully in response to her question. The Queen looked sufficiently weary, with her hair undone and falling freely, and her typical fine-pressed gown wrinkled from the day’s wear. The news he had confided to her only caused her distress, and thus, further weariness.

“A regrettable turn of events, but my sources have confirmed it so.”

“Your sources?” Queen Alicent scoffed, not able to fully conceal the panic that threatened to break her otherwise icy composure. “I have seen the men under your employ, Larys. They do not have tongues with which to speak. How have they relayed this information to you? How do they relay any information to you at all?”

Larys smiled placatingly, neither offended nor threatened by her line of questioning.

In her personal chambers especially, Larys ought to have felt like he was on less than equal footing. But he and Queen Alicent had reached an agreement many years past- a mutual assurance, so to speak. In addition to this, Larys’ reach had extended in great strides since he had followed his father to King’s Landing in his youth. Larys allowed himself to briefly contemplate if his own influence had come to rival, if not surpass, that of the Queen’s.

Though they may be drawing nearer to equal power, Larys never felt called to acknowledge such a sentiment with anyone, least of all her. He was rather content with the role he had crafted for himself at Court, and later, the small council. It was a role that had been skillfully crafted in the wonderfully efficient tools of blood, deception, and most important of all, whispers. Larys had a purpose, one that gave him all the sense of self-sufficiency that mortals could not help but desire.

And what greater purpose could one strive for than to be the Queen’s most dutiful servant?

“The written word is one oft overlooked, My Queen. But for those who have traded their tongues for life, it is the only way. Who am I to begrudge them for that?”

Her brows furrowed; she was too preoccupied with news to have any patience for his whimsical musings.

Sensing this, Larys continued without delay. “This has been my method of communication with them for years, My Queen. Like me, they are true and loyal servants of the realm. Has any of their intelligence relayed to me, which I have in turn used to secure you, and your interests, ever proven to be false or malicious?”

Queen Alicent did not answer, for she knew it had not.

“I have every reason to believe the written whispers I have received tonight deserve no less credibility than their predecessors, My Queen.”

Queen Alicent sighed, and stiffly lowered herself onto the nearby sofa. “Forgive me, Larys.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Your Grace.”

“When will she be arriving?”

“It is hard to decipher the timing of these matters.” Larys unabashedly ogled Queen Alicent as she reached down to remove her slippers. Later, he scolded himself abruptly. “My brother and his family were being hosted by Lord Footly in Tumbleton when the raven from Princess Rhaenyra arrived. I imagine my Good Sister will arrive in the capital within the next day or so.”

“And you suspect she will come alone?”

“I do not know Lady Y/N as well as I should like. But I do know my brother, My Queen. He protects his own. He is likely to be reluctant to let his wife enter the Red Keep by her lonesome, but he will relent. He would not forcibly subject their children to these halls by accompanying her.”

It went unsaid that his brother would also be wise to make himself scarce, particularly given the circumstances. Were the rumors about Harwin’s alleged intimacy with Princess Rhaenyra true? Larys did not know, nor did he care. The legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons had been dubious since their birth, and if it was going to be officially called into question, Larys knew it would be easier to work with the situation rather than against it.

“We must use this opportunity to our advantage. Without your brother’s watchful eye, your Good Sister may yet be persuaded to confide in you. Speak with her, Larys. Ensure that neither she, nor your brother, believe the fire at Harrenhal to be more than a tragedy. No one must know.”

“I am certain your wish has already been granted, My Queen. They say my brother nearly went mad after the death of our father, the Lord Hand. And for all of his efforts, he was unable to determine the culprit. Rest assured, Your Grace- for if my brother knew the truth of the matter, he would have stormed the Red Keep himself to exact his justice.”

That had always been Harwin: act first, think later. Always, always driven by emotion rather than logical thought. Larys supposed he was rather appreciative of his brother’s inferior nature; had Harwin been focused on anything else but the emotional blow the death of their father had done to him, he might have been able to capitalize on Larys’ own oversight and discover the truth he so desperately sought.

But that’s what Larys deserved. Flawless execution was a fool’s dream the moment he decided to recruit his helpers from the lowest of the low. He may have taken their tongues in exchange for freedom, but those would not be of much use if they were reclaimed. Truthfully, Larys should have expected one or two of them to disappear after they razed Harrenhal. While most returned to be in his service, a few stragglers were never heard from again.

Fireflies would shine and dim. Like them, the men Larys recruited would come and go.

Perhaps it wasn’t fair to judge his elder brother so definitively. Harwin, for all his shortcomings, had always been kind to Larys, despite their differences. But life wasn’t fair, and Larys knew that better than anyone. As true as the skies were blue, Harwin was a simple man. If he hadn’t discovered the truth of the fire at Harrenhal by now, Larys doubted he ever would.

Despite Larys’s confidence, Queen Alicent remained unconvinced. For as well as Larys could read her, he could concede that she had grown able to read him nearly as effectively.

She bent down once more, slowly removed one stocking, and then the other.

His mouth involuntarily watered, prompting him to speak. “Of course, I will confirm the validity of all of these conjectures by speaking with my Good Sister, Your Grace.”

For the first time that evening, Queen Alicent smiled. Though it was a small one, Larys deemed it to be a victory nonetheless. “Good… good. I must impress upon you the severity of this matter, Lord Larys. Handle it with the utmost care. Ensure that no suspicions remain about the fire that claimed your father’s life in Harrenhal.”

Larys waited in silence as the Queen paused. Her request was straightforward, and in both of their best interests; Queen Alicent need not defend her position so vehemently. He knew there had to be another, more compelling reason behind her request.

“I tried to convince her to see reason once before,” Queen Alicent confessed quietly, staring blankly into the flames of the roaring fire across the room. “But I fear I was too… brazen, then. Such an oversight cost me dearly. I will not make that mistake again. There may yet be another chance to sway her to see the truth. She is a mother now, and no mother desires her children to live through times of war.”

Ah, yes. The children. Two of which had almost become collateral damage in Larys’s unyielding quest to appease his Queen. They were safe, for now, but there was no telling what would need to be done. All three of the children might still become pawns in the larger scheme of the game that he and their parents played. But what Queen Alicent did not know would not always hurt her.

Larys would protect her. He would protect her interest by ensuring that his brother and Good Sister were none the wiser about the tragic fire at Harrenhal. And, if there were any lingering suspicions, well…

Larys was no gardener. But he thought himself more than capable of pruning a few roses.

“Your humble servant shall do as you command, My Queen. And I will not disappoint.”

 “I do not like this.”

The plan had been a relatively simple one.

Having not left the confines of Highgarden too frequently over the past several years, it was quickly decided that the trip to Dragonstone could serve more than one purpose. Whilst you, Harwin, the children, some of your retainers, and the escort of guards accompanying you traveled across the Reach, you would pay a visit to noble houses you had not had the chance to speak with personally in some time.

Though it delayed the overall amount of days spent traveling, it was a good plan, and an effective one at that. Not only did it allow for you to rekindle relations with your bannermen, but it also benefited your family more directly. Luciya was just a young girl, and unaccustomed to long days of travel. Stopping to sleep in a castle every couple of days did wonders to keep her from being “finicky.”

Yes, the plan was going well- up until a few days ago.

The family was being hosted by Lord Footly in Tumbleton when you had received a raven carrying a scroll of parchment sealed by the Targaryen crest. Princess Rhaenyra had known about the family’s plans to visit other noble houses while traveling to Dragonstone, so her letter intercepting you along the journey made Hariwn’s gut sink. It could only have been bad news.

And bad news it was. Instead of calling upon Lord Rosby together, as had been agreed upon, Harwin was forced to watch you and a few of your guards gather your things and prepare to separate from the traveling party for a few days.

King’s Landing loomed ominously in the background. You could already smell the stench from where you stood.

“I do not like this,” Harwin insisted once more. His voice was quiet, so as not to be overheard by the many people around you, but no less firm. “Something is off here. Not all is well within the Red Keep- I can feel it.”

“Prince Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark has been challenged, Dearest,” you reminded him patiently, speaking just as softly and steadfastly as he. “We both know how grave the implications resulting from his displacement in the line of succession would be. Not just for him, but for Princess Rhaenyra. For you. For me. For our children. Ser Vaemond’s will must not come to pass.”

“I do not disagree,” Harwin conceded effortlessly. “But, please, My Love- enlighten me on what assistance you are personally hoping to provide?”

You were enough paces away from the traveling party that you felt comfortable speaking freely with Harwin. “Vaemond Velaryon means to build his argument and bolster his claim to Driftmark upon the rumors of Prince Lucerys’s illegitimacy. And we know that Vaemond, among many others, suspect you to have had intimate relations with Princess Rhaenyra. If I present myself at Court and stand by Princess Rhaenyra to show support for Prince Lucerys’ claim, would that not lend some credibility to the truth as we both know it- that you are truly not the boy’s father?”

Your presence could reinforce the position that Princess Rhaenyra had ascertained for years. Or, it would just make you appear senselessly blinded by your loyalty to the lady you once served. But Harwin was far too reluctant to tell you that. He knew you had always felt compelled to support Princess Rhaenyra in whatever way you could, just as much he had always felt compelled to keep you safe.

It was unfortunate for all when both of your desires clashed.

You could tell Harwin was unswayed, so you continued. “Go on, as we planned- pay your respects to Lord Rosby for a night or two. His father was a friend of your own, was he not? You should be able to find some common ground. Then move on to see Lord Darklyn at Duskendale. Princess Rhaenyra has informed me he is a kind man, and that he insists that any friends of hers are friends of his own. Should I be delayed here for longer than I intend to be, I do not think Lord Darklyn will mind hosting you and the children for a little while longer until I am able to join you. With any luck, the Princess and her family will return to Dragonstone in a few days' time. When I join you in Duskendale, then we can finally set sail to join them.”

Yes, yes, all of that had been the plan. With the exception of the unexpected stop in King’s Landing. A side trip in which Harwin was restricted from joining you, much to his dismay. He did not believe Queen Alicent would harm you directly, but he did not doubt the lengths her supporters would go to appease her. And whilst the Queen’s party posed a threat, so too did those in Princess Rhaenyra’s company. Prince Daemon was cut from another cloth. His motives and next course of action were seldom expected or socially appropriate. The thought of you being anywhere near the Rogue Prince without Harwin by your side made him extremely uncomfortable at best.

“There is nothing I would desire more in this moment than to accompany you,” Harwin professed seriously. “But-”

“It would not be wise,” you finished for him, understanding exactly what he was trying to convey. “I fear your presence would be more of a detriment than an assistance, Dearest.”

Harwin could only imagine the looks that he, Princess Rhaenyra, and her sons would receive if he attended the petitions regarding the succession rights to Driftmark. Most everyone in the Red Keep still suspected him to be the true sire of Prince Lucerys. What would they think if he stood by the young Prince’s side, whilst his mother and Harwin’s rumored lover defended his birthright? The opponents to Prince Lucerys’s claim might view Harwin’s mere presence as goading, if not incendiary.

“Besides,” you added after a thoughtful moment of silence, “The children need you. Yours are the safest hands for them to be in, especially with them being so near the capital.”

“Second safest,” Harwin jokingly corrected, though his heart was not entirely in it. “They’d be safer in the far more capable hands of their mother, I’d imagine.”

Harwin watched as you looked longingly behind him, where Derrik and Selwin were atop their own horses several paces away. Their swords, which you and Harwin have gifted them for their respective fourteenth name days, were secured at their sides. Every day of the journey thus far, Harwin prayed to whatever gods would hear him that your sons would not need to use them. Derrick and Selwin took in the sight of the city, which they had not seen in many years, with more than mild interest. But every so often, they snuck in worried glances towards you and Harwin.

Harwin continued to watch as your eyes drifted over to one the carriages, where you both knew Bryna was keeping a watchful eye on Luciya. The young girl had been in remarkably good spirits today, but Harwin suspected that was soon to change.

It was painfully clear to Harwin you were reluctant to leave your youngest child, who had yet to go without your presence for more than a day. But if not even the pleading eyes of your daughter could convince you to not separate from the traveling party, it only spoke to how strongly you felt going to Princess Rhaenyra and offering her your support.

“The horses are readied, My Lady.”

You smiled your thanks at Ser Alren. Alren was the second son of the Lord of Oakheart. Though he was closer in age to you and Harwin than your other escorts, he had been knighted for many years. The fact that he was a prodigy with a sword at such a young age was only embroidered by the fact that the young man was chivalrous, honest, and loyal to a fault. Before his knighthood, he had been your brother Derron’s squire. Harwin was at least able to take some small comfort in the fact that one of your escorts accompanying you to the Red Keep would be a man who had served you and your family dutifully for years.

While you thanked Alren, Harwin tried to resign himself to his reality; he was about to watch you ride away into the nest of vipers that resided in the Red Keep, with little more than a few hand selected guards to accompany you. You hadn’t even allowed your handmaiden to accompany you, as you insisted that your stay at the capital would be short-lived. And that there would be plenty of other staff you could ask for assistance from, should you need it.

To further Harwin’s distress about the situation, you insisted on riding into the capital on horseback, and forgo a carriage altogether. Commandeering one of the few carriages for even a short while did not sit right with you. You had reasoned that the inconvenience to other members of the traveling party outweighed any potential benefit to you. That was good and well for going to the Red Keep, but Harwin was more concerned about what would occur when you left King’s Landing. You and your escort would be traveling on horseback to return to the larger party, and you would be doing so in a much more vulnerable state than you otherwise would have been.

At least you would carry something with you that helped placate his worries.

Harwin wordlessly shifted your traveling cloak to the side, revealing the belt strapped around your waist. His eyes fell to your favored side, and he felt instant relief when the sun caught the small bladed weapon there.

The dagger was a gift to you for your first wedding anniversary. Harwin had sought out some of the finest craftsmen in the Reach before commissioning it. When he had presented it to you, you were stunned by the metal work. Even to this day, it was a work of art; what appeared to be intricate vines twirled up the hilt, with a single rose carved into the pommel.

An unusual gift for a lady, perhaps. But after your collective history, you appreciated the gift from your husband more than you could ever convey, and Harwin appreciated the opportunity of teaching you how to wield it. If such a dark day were to come, you could both rest easier knowing that you had additional defense at your disposal.

“You know,” you said, your tone light and teasing, “Some people may deem carrying such a weapon as unbecoming and not very lady-like.”

Harwin readjusted your traveling cloak, concealing the dagger from view. “‘Tis most fortunate that I value your safety more than I do the opinion of others.”

Your escorts mounted their steeds, inaudibly signaling that they were ready to set out when you were.

Time was of the essence, and Harwin could feel every moment of it slipping through his fingers. He took your hands in his, and promptly kissed both of them. “Be careful, My Love.”

“I promise I will be,” you assured him, though your efforts were not entirely successful. “And do not fret, Dearest; I am in good hands.”

For additional reassurance, you gave Harwin as passionate of a kiss as you dared with an audience. When you pulled away, Harwin was momentarily stunned by your forwardness, though he could not truthfully say that he minded.

Ser Alren took advantage of the moment and approached you silently, handing you the reins of your designated horse for the short trip. The subtle action was enough to break Harwin from his stupor. Though you did not need it, he assisted you with a lift, and you saddled the horse with a somewhat familiar ease.

“Take care of your sister for me,” you requested of Derrik and Selwin as the horses began trot forward.

Your sons nodded in confirmation and smiled. Harwin tried to force himself to do the same.

But when you looked back over your shoulder at him, suddenly his smile did not feel so forced. You called, “I will have a raven sent when we mean to join you.”

“I will eagerly await its arrival,” Harwin called back truthfully.

Harwin stood tall and watched as you and your limited escorts disappeared from his view. When the Tyrell banners became blurred in the distance, he found himself hoping that he had not made a grave mistake.

“Lady Tyrell.”

“Ser Criston.”

That was the lone figure who had gathered to receive you upon the escort's arrival into the Red Keep. To be truthful, you had not expected any audience at all; only a few even knew you rode for the capital. You wouldn’t have dared to impose upon the royal family as an uninvited guest. But you weren’t uninvited at all; Princess Rhaenyra wanted you here.

Somehow, being greeted by Ser Criston Cole felt like more of a slight than having been greeted by no one at all.

You dismounted your house and appraised Ser Criston thoughtfully. It had been almost seven years since you had been made to suffer the sight of him. Unfortunately, it appeared as though time had been particularly kind.

Pity.

“Welcome back to King’s Landing, My Lady. We have been expecting your arrival.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Have you now?”

“Your Good Brother is the Master of Whisperers, My Lady. It seems as though very little happens throughout the realm without him learning of it in one way or another. Least of all the business of his brother and his family.”

Of course, Larys. Neither of you had written to him about your impromptu visit to King’s Landing, but you had promised Harwin to see how his younger brother was faring. However, it appeared as though Larys did not need his elder brother to keep an eye on him anymore; if Larys had informants who had already made him knowledgeable of your unannounced arrival, they were effective ones indeed. Just the type of informants your Good Brother ought to have at his disposal if he desired to fulfill his role as Master of Whisperers with any sort of proficiency.

“If you will all gather your belongings and follow me, so that your horses can be given food and water in the stables. In anticipation of your arrival, Queen Alicent has already had rooms prepared for you.”

The Queen? “If Queen Alicent was also knowledgeable of my intent to visit, did she not wish to join you in welcoming us?”

Ser Criston did not take the bait. Dryly, he replied, “The Queen keeps a busy schedule these days, acting as a steward in the name of His Majesty, King Viserys. As we speak, she convenes with the small council. Her Grace the Queen thought it more fruitful to dedicate her time to the struggles that face the realm, and has entrusted me with the honorable task of welcoming you in her place.”

You bit back the scoff that threatened to slip from your lips, and forced a smile instead. “Very well, Ser Criston. My escort and I would be honored if you would show us to our accommodations.”

You and your escorts gathered the packs that had been tied to the saddles of your horses, and once the steeds were led away by stablehands, you all lined up to enter into the Red Keep. You decided to linger behind the group, though Ser Alren strategically positioned himself at your side.

The rest of your party entered through the courtyard doors without a fuss. But when you and Ser Alren went to pass Ser Criston, who had remained posted at the doors, you were stopped.

“I must confess, Lady Y/N, Queen Alicent did not know whether to expect the rest of your family as well.”

“To assuage the Queen’s concerns, please inform her that I do not intend to stay in the capital long. My husband thought it best for him remain with our children, and I intend to return to them in a few days.”

“Ah, yes, your husband,” Ser Criston feigned forgetfulness. You knew it was all for show, for how could a man forget another who had bludgeoned his face? “Tell me My Lady, how does Ser Harwin fare these days?”

“My husband, the Lord of Harrenhal, is very well, thank you. I shall pass along your kind greetings and well wishes when I speak with him next.”

Ser Criston’s eyes narrowed briefly, but he received his composure just as quickly. “If that is your wish. Shall I show you to your rooms now, My Lady?”

It was relatively easy to slip from your rooms whilst Ser Alren and the rest of your escort settled into their own.

The stone corridors you used to frequently roam should have felt more soothing than they did, but the air of the Red Keep felt… off. Long gone was the place you had once called home. In its stead was an imposter, a true likeness in appearance, but a terribly inaccurate depiction of its soul.

A cold, joyless place, you declared to yourself bitterly.

You decided not to bother any staff with questions; you were fairly certain of your destination regardless. After a few minutes of meandering through the halls, you overheard a pair of familiar voices, and knew at once that you had hit the mark.

“You must have patience, My Love.”

“īlon issi se ānogar hen zaldrīzes. īlon issi vēttan syt action, daor patience.” (We are the Blood of the Dragon. We are made for action, not patience.)

“We are guests of the King and Queen, though it is only the Queen who is able to walk these halls anymore. Now, lower your voice, lest she or anyone else hears you.”

“Why should I care if I am heard? I only speak the truth. My brother is the King, and you are his heir. Yet neither of you sit the throne. Instead, it is being warmed by a fanatical queen and her forked-tongue father for that drunkard and complete and utter waste of a dragon that they call your half-brother. This cannot stand!”

“Shhh!”

“As if I care what that self-righteous zealot thinks of me,” the man snarled darkly. “That… līve hen iā dāria-” (whore of a queen-).

“My Valerian is quite rusty,” you called down the corridor in a controlled tone. Your pace was a calm one as you walked towards the two blonde figures who had been conversing at the opposite end. “But I know of an insult when I hear one.”

Princess Rhaenyra whipped her head in your direction, visibly tense at the prospect of having been overheard. But when her wide eyes focused upon you, her shoulders slouched with relaxation.

Prince Daemon turned to you with an indiscernible look on his eyes. “Lady Tyrell,” he greeted, perfectly cordial. He took a few steps forward to meet you halfway, with Princess Rhaenyra perfectly in time beside him. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“Is it, My Prince? Then you are among the minority, I fear. It seems my Good Brother shared news of my impending arrival with our Queen, who in turn declared the lone presence of her sworn shield to be an adequate greeting party.”

“Ah, yes. Ser Crispin,” Prince Daemon recalled with a playful smile. His tone was deceptively pleasant sounding, considering the subject matter.

Princess Rhaenyra’s face soured at the mere mention of the man who had bludgeoned another to death at her own wedding feast. But perhaps that was not the only foul memory that came to her mind at the thought of Ser Criston Cole. To Prince Daemon, she said, “We should take our sole greeting from Lord Caswell as a compliment, in light of what the other prospect may have been.”

You raised your eyebrows, mildly surprised. House Caswell of the Reach was loyal to Princess Rhaenyra, no doubt. But- “The Queen did not welcome you personally?”

Prince Daemon ignored your question altogether. “Tell me, Lady Y/N, how does the Queen’s lapdog fare these days?”

“Ser Criston looks to be in good health.”

“Does he? Such a shame. Perhaps I ought to see to that myself.”

You didn’t dare to wonder what the Rogue Prince was suggesting by that statement. Your feelings about the younger brother of the King were complicated at best.

Princess Rhaenyra must not have deemed Prince Daemon’s threat credible, despite how plain it was. She merely frowned at him with a fondness a mother might have displayed towards her misbehaving, but well meaning, children.

Prince Daemon glanced between you and Princess Rhaenyra thoughtfully. “... I sense my presence is not needed here. I shall leave the both of you to it, then.”

Prince Daemon made one more remark in Valerian to Princess Rhaenyra, but you did not catch it, as it was said under his breath. Without another word, he slunk past you and disappeared down the corridor from where you’d come and out of sight.

With her husband gone, Princess Rhaenyra’s focus was able to be solely on you. Her violet eyes looked you over thoroughly. As she took in the sight of you, you did the same.

At last, she smiled, and took your hands in hers. “I am glad to see you, my friend.”

After returning the smile, you squeezed her hands once before releasing them. “The feeling is mutual, Your Grace.”

Despite the passage of time, Princess Rhaenyra looked the same as you had last seen her. Except for-

Princess Rhaenyra’s hands fell to rest upon her protruding stomach. You felt your composure slip with the shock; you did not know she was with child again.

“You look well,” you observed. “Are you?”

“I would not dare risk my health to entertain this folly of a proceeding if I was not.” Before you could think of how to respond, Princess Rhaenyra took a step forward to your side, and linked your arm in one of hers. “Come, Y/N. We have much to discuss.”

Princess Rhaenyra guided you without force, as you were very much a willing participant, out into the gardens. Though many things about the Red Keep seemed starkly different, the worn paths of the gardens you used to tread years ago had remained much the same, despite the passage of time.

Nostalgia arose as the two of you became surrounded by the familiar greenery. Once you had made a fairly decent headway into the gardens, Princess Rhaenyra felt confident broaching the first of many topics that were to be discussed, albeit quietly.

“We arrived a few days ago. Lord Caswell, gods bless him, was the only member of the Court who cared to greet us.”

“Such blatant disrespect for the future Queen,” you muttered disapprovingly, imagining the scene she described in your mind’s eye. “‘Tis shameful.”

Princess Rhaenyra teased, “Now you sound like my husband.”

You faltered at the comparison, but quickly recovered. “Have you been to see the King? How is he?”

It was Princess Rhaenyra’s turn to falter then. She put on a neutral face, but it would not fool you. You had been friends for years, and it was far too simple to detect the hurt behind her words.

“The King is not well. Queen Alicent, in all her good intentions, along with her gaggle of maesters handpicked from Oldtown, have deemed it necessary that milk of poppy be incorporated into the King’s daily treatment… When I spoke with him on the day of our arrival, he scarcely recognized me.”

The troubling images of King Viserys confined to the chains of sleep and completely baffled and dazed when he was not flooded your mind. How had he not been able to recall his own daughter, his own blood? An awful fate for anyone, especially for a king. Awful for a child too, to be deemed a stranger in the eyes of a parent.

Had King Viserys truly been that ill? Princess Rhaenyra once confided to you that her father had frequently sought the insightful care of maesters. But you had always ventured that it had been out of caution, and a means for the King to preserve his existing health more than anything else. With Princess Rhaenyra’s latest concerns, it seemed more likely that King Viserys and those closest to him had gone through great lengths to disguise his existing ailments, as they might have been doing all along.

“I am so very sorry, Your Grace.”

Princess Rhaenyra shook her head. “It matters little. I expect none of us will be here for long- Ser Vaemond’s petition is to be heard by Queen Alicent and the Hand in a few days time. Once that has concluded, my family and I will return to Dragonstone with great haste, and the Queen can continue to treat my father as she deems fit.”

You surmised by Princess Rhaenyra’s flippant tone that the matter was nowhere near as settled as she attempted to portray as, but you said nothing.

There was no point in inquiring as to whether Princess Rhaenyra was concerned about the outcome of Ser Vaemond’s petition. But you also knew that she had no other option but to meet his challenge head on. Ser Vaemond’s lust for his brother’s titles and lands could not and would not be obtained at the expense of Prince Lucerys. Princess Rhaenyra would defend her and her late husband’s familial arrangement until the end of her days, for if she did not, she would lose everything.

If fate forced her hand, you believed Princess Rhaenyra could live a life without a crown upon her head. But you were loath to imagine a world in which she was stripped of her children.

“Did you come alone?”

You nodded affirmatively. “Harwin would have joined me, but someone had to stay with the children.”

Princess Rhaenyra grimaced. “When I wrote to inform you of Vaemond’s petition, I only meant to notify you that my family might not be present at Dragonstone when you arrived. I had no intention of pulling you away from them.”

“Which you have not,” you reassured her. “I wished to come and offer you and Prince Lucerys the support of the whole of House Tyrell and House Strong. I would hope it does not come by surprise that Harwin cares a great deal about the both of you. I can say with the utmost certainty that he would have joined me in offering you our support personally, but-”

“There is no need to explain. I would not doubt Lord Harwin’s intentions to be genuine, had he chosen to accompany you here. But maintaining distance was certainly the wisest move for everyone… At least for now.”

Harwin looked forward to reuniting with Princess Rhaenyra and her sons as much as the rest of your family did. But it was understood by all that the reunion would be better served away from the vengeful eyes of those who would deem his care as an admission of guilt to a crime he did not commit.

“There is little else my husband values more than the safety of those he cares about,” you reminded her redundantly.

Princess Rhaenyra smirked, though it was without malice. “You married a good man, Lady Y/N.”

You certainly did. And there wasn't a day that passed by that you didn’t find yourself incredibly thankful for Harwin.

But that only reminded you of Princess Rhaneyra’s losses.

“Words penned to parchment cannot properly conveyconvey my sympathies for Ser Laenor’s loss, Princess.”

Princess Rhanyra’s neutral expression remained steady.

When she said nothing in response, you continued. “I may not have always judged Ser Laenor as fairly as I ought to have, and the burden of guilt I bear for that is a heavy one.”

“Please, do not feel any guilt,” Princess Rhaenyra insisted, breaking her steely reserve. “He would not wish for it. Wherever my late husband is now, rest assured that he is far happier than life as a Prince Consort and as a brother still in mourning for his dear sister would have ever allowed him to be.”

Although you had not been present, you knew most of what transpired in Driftwood that one night years ago, largely in part to Princess Rhaenyra’s own writings and the windstorm of rumors that followed shortly thereafter. Lady Laena was put to rest, only to have her dragon claimed by Prince Aemond that very night. Prince Aemond had tamed the beast that was Vhaegar only to have his eye cut out by his nephew, Luke. Luke, the son that Princess Rhaenyra fondly called her “sweet boy”. And then there was the madness that had ensued after, when Queen Alicent drew blood from Princess Rhaenyra with King Viserys’s dagger and faced no consequences for it, despite assaulting another member of the royal family.

But what took you by surprise the most was Ser Laenor’s sudden death. Your shock had given way to appall when the word of Princess Rhaenyra’s swift remarriage to her uncle, Prince Daemon, reached your ears. You did not believe the Princess to be capable of murder, or even able to conspire to it… but you did not doubt the extended lengths that the Rogue Prince would go to achieve his own ends.

However, if Ser Laenor’s death had not merely been an unfortunate betrayal by his former companion, and if Princess Rhaenyra knew more about his passing than what she had previously told you, she had never said.

… Then again, perhaps she could not.

“I hope the Seven Heavens welcomed Ser Laenor warmly,” you said truthfully, not knowing what else to say. “And Lady Laena, too.”

Princess Rhaenyra gave you a small, sad smile, still offering no further comment on the matter.

You took the few moments of comfortable silence that followed to contemplate your next words. Part of you thought it wise to omit what you desired to say altogether, but the other part of you hated the idea of leaving the topic unaddressed.

“If I may, Your Grace, there is another for whom I wish to express to you my sincerest condolences.” One person had never dared to put your words to parchment about, lest it be intercepted.

Princess Rhaenyra’s smile fell, but her eyes remained keen. “You speak of my companion Ser Royce, do you not?”

It was your turn to smile, and it was a grateful one, as you were thankful she had given you an out. After letting out a light, nervous laugh, you answered softly, “Yes, My Princess.”

Ser Royce Baratheon- the true father of Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest sons.

Ser Royce’s passing the previous year was just as sudden and as tragic as Ser Laenor’s had been. He and his grandfather, Lord Boremund Baratheon, had gone on a hunting trip. In the end, it was a wild boar that had taken town the Lord of Storm’s End and his grandson. In hindsight, you thought it surprising that Lord Boremund had been allowed to go hunting at all; he was one of the oldest lords in the realm at the time. But his stubbornness was legendary. If Lord Boremund had been bested by the beast first, there was little doubt Ser Royce would have been out of sorts after witnessing the death of his grandfather. The boar would have easily taken the advantage.

“Your words are kind, and I appreciate them. I hadn't had the pleasure of speaking with Ser Royce since before Joffrey was born. But we still wrote to one another on occasion, even up to the month before.”

You wondered if Prince Daemon knew about those letters. And you had often wondered over the years if he knew anything about Ser Royce at all.

“Princess, is Prince Daemon aware of the… companionship you had with Ser Royce?”

“Yes. I told him several years ago, in fact.”

As you continued to walk, her head swiveled about, rapidly ensuring that the pair of you were still alone. You were. Just the same, her next words were spoken so softly you had to strain to hear them.

“Prince Daemon forced my hand in the matter, you see. I love my husband, but he is a jealous creature by nature, try as he might to deny it. I quickly grew tired of his off-handed comments about your husband, which only grew fouler once he discovered that Lord Harwin and I still write to one another. I had no choice but to tell him the truth- if only to cease his attempt to sully your husband's image.”

You almost shuddered at the thought of Prince Daemon being anything less than apathetic towards you, Harwin, or your family. How many years had passed with Prince Daemon believing Harwin to be the father of Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest sons? … Probably far too many. The rumors about the Red Keep had been stirring for years, and that was before Prince Daemon had even returned from Essos. Before the fire at Harrenhal.

The fire at Harrenhal…

Surely, Prince Daemon couldn’t have-

“How does Lord Borros fare these days?” you questioned hastily, forcing the dark and troubling thoughts away. “I am afraid there is not much need for me to correspond with him politically, and there are no personal connections between us, either.”

“The man waited a great deal of his life to inherit his father’s throne. Once he did, it came at the cost of his son.”

You couldn’t imagine such a loss. From the heaviness lingering behind her words, it appeared that Princess Rhaenyra could not either.

“Lord Borros still has his four daughters from his late wife, to be sure,” Princess Rhaenyra supposed. “But I suspect it won’t be long before we hear word of his search for a new wife. I dare say he shall have a son once more.”

A son who could never be the replacement for the one he had lost, you thought gloomily.

You realized, “It seems the Stranger has not been unfamiliar to many of us over the past few years.”

Finally, the shrubs around you gave way to an opening. Just up ahead was the balcony on the far edge of the garden. You snuck a glance at Princess Rhaenyra as the pair of you continued on, only stopping once you were before it and able to rest your hands on the cement barrier.

You looked out into the Blackwater Bay, and sighed wistfully. Many years ago, you had watched the Bay as Velaryon ships and several dragons descended upon King’s Landing for Princess Rhaenyra’s wedding to Ser Laenor. Though not entirely sparse of ships now, when compared to your memory, the Blackwater Bay looked eerily empty before you.

So much had changed.

“I really am glad to see you again, Y/N.”

Fortunately, some things never did.

“The pleasure is mine, Your Grace.”

You were invited to have supper with Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon, and their oldest children that evening.

Prince Jacaerys and Lucerys had grown as much as Derrik and Selwin, much to your dismay. But they had become fine young men, and undoubtedly made their mother very proud.

Prince Jacaerys had been very courteous, and had asked you specific questions about trade to and from the Reach. It was apparent he had taken care to familiarize himself with the knowledge beforehand.

On the other hand, Prince Lucerys, though also polite, was noticeably more quiet and withdrawn than his elder brother. But you could not fault him for that. Who would not be, if they were in a position such as his? Both he and his elder brother favored their father’s looks greatly, but Ser Royce’s visage was made most apparent in Luke. It was sad in a way, for neither of them would ever know.

The ladies Baela and Rhaenya were at supper as well. Thankfully, it seemed that they took after their mother, Lady Laena Velaryon, in many ways. You looked forward to getting to know them better over your short stay in King’s Landing, and then again once in Dragonstone.

As you left supper, Princess Rhaenyra bid you a goodnight with a promise to introduce you to her youngest children on the morrow. You could scarcely wait; would you even be able to recognize Prince Joffrey? He’d been only a babe the last time you saw him.

Being surrounded by the Princess’s family did wonders to assuage the emptiness that had begun to brew within you due to the separation from your own. But when you returned to your chambers that evening, and you were left with nothing but silence, your heart felt impossibly heavy.

You tried to alleviate the drowning feeling by writing a letter to Harwin, assuring him that you made it to the Red Keep safely, and did not anticipate to be delayed by more than a few days. You set the letter aside for the maesters to send it by raven in the morning, and took some comfort in the fact that Harwin was sure to receive it as soon as he arrived in Rosby.

You poured yourself a glass of wine, and hoped the small indulgence would help calm your nerves.

As you stood out on the balcony, which overlooked King’s Landing, you heard a knock on the chamber doors. Perhaps it was a servant checking in, or maybe even Ser Alren. Either way, you did not mind.

You called, “Come in.”

The hinges of the door squeaked as the door opened, and you turned away from the balcony to step back into the room. What- or who, rather- you saw halted you at once.

A deep green dress made of luxurious fabric enveloped the very last person you had expected to come calling upon you at this hour of the night.

“Queen Alicent.”

A/N: Thank you for reading🖤 Part 2 will be posted on Wed 12/21🖤

[pridewishes]

I SAW THE YOSHIKO ICONS LAST NIGHT BUT WANTED TO WAIT UNTIL THE MORNING TO SEND MY THANK YOU!!! they are literally so so amazing and I adore them!!! again, literally thank you so much for your blog and how much positivity it has given me!!! I am SO happy you enjoy making my requests because I love hearing from you and seeing all the wonderful icons made!!! thank you so so so so much again!! :D

I'm really happy you're enjoying all the things we make! I'm a little distressed + just woke up but we appreciate it sm

[nationalharryleague]

One Day

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Drunk!Harry Fluff!

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi all! This is some drunk boyfriend harry fluff that I just love sm. It’s based off of “One Day” by Catie Turner (I highly recommend listening to it!!) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think in my ask! Thank you so much for reading! 

***

Harry was the life of the party when he wanted to be. He knew how to let loose, with a tequila on the rocks in one hand and a beer in the other, ready to party until he (literally) dropped. He always ended up on some sort of elevated surface like a teenage girl, usually a kitchen island or an absurdly expensive coffee table, singing along to whatever music was playing, magically knowing every word to whatever came over the speakers. Sometimes he would get lost in the winding corridors of the massive mansions his friends lived in, taking a wrong turn in his enhibrated state and ending up somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be. There was also one time he jumped off a (thankfully low) roof into the swimming pool below.

But usually, he was calm, cool, and collected; gently sipping on a single drink he would nurse for most of the night. The two of you liked to sit and watch during these parties, his hand settling securely on your waist, keeping you close to him and away from the chaos that unfolded before you. You would curl up on a couch somewhere and just watch it all play out like it was an observational study, often giving commentary and ranking people and their drunk dancing out of 10.

“I feel like we're the mean girls in the corner of the cafeteria who just sit and silently judge everyone around them,” you would giggle, nuzzling yourself further into his side.

“That’s because we are the mean girls in the corner judging everyone around them, sweetheart” he would reply, in a slightly buzzed drawl.

But tonight was not one of those nights. And Harry had ended up standing on top of the dining room table scream-singing ABBA at the top of his lungs.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic and messy performance. His limbs flailed freely as he wiggled his hips along to the beat of Dancing Queen, singing into a small statue of a naked woman he had picked up off an end table that you assumed to be very, very expensive, like it was a microphone. He wore a pair of high rise denim flares that swayed along with his movements to the music and his white “Women are Smarter'' shirt was now stuck to his body with sweat, just see through enough for his butterfly to make an appearance.

He only came down after a green malaise began to settle over his features, skin slightly clammy and a bit pale. You extended a hand, helping his loopy body down off the table and letting him settle into your side for support once he was on solid ground again. “Let’s head to the bathroom, H,” you said gently, trying to settle the panic that was beginning to crawl into his eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

Once he got to the beautifully large and extravagant bathroom, he crawled into a small, or as small as the large man could make himself, ball and rested his hot clammy cheeks against the cool marble of the floor. “May have overdone it,” he grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as you were sure the room was spinning for him.

“Ya think?” you teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when you were met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” You carefully dug through the cabinets, knowing there had to be washcloths somewhere in the lavish room, and once you found one you dampened it with cold water. Settling down on the tile next to him, you pulled him and his sweaty curls on to your lap, wiping the layer of sweat delicately from his skin and then resting the cold cloth on his forehead.

You two stayed in this position for a while, carefully rubbing his back in an effort to sooth the large man and trying to ignore the loud music that was still shaking the house around you. He looked small like this, no longer your giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. You were happy to be that person, as he always was for you.

This was the first time you had ever seen him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end. He had been working like a dog, constantly in and out of the studio, frustrated that none of the songs he was writing were up to his astronomically high standards for himself. It wasn’t too shocking that he was trying to escape that stress.

Gradually, as he laid on the floor and you held him close, the color came back into his cheeks and he stopped holding onto your legs like the room was about to take flight. When you sat him up against the wall, he was still a bit wobbly, but no longer looked like he was about to unload his stomach contents all over the room.

“How are you feeling now, H?” you asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress as you dabbed the washcloth over his skin.

“’m okay,” he hiccuped back, “jus’ needed a cuddle.” He got exceptionally British when he got this drunk, his accent coming out in a barely distinguishable garble of tall vowels and dropped consonants, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at you, his light green eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off too one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.

You should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. His behavior and subsequent need for you to take care of him should have gotten under your skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into your chest. But it didn’t. You were just taking care of your man.

“Do you still feel nauseous?”

“‘m a-ok, babay” he said, making himself giggle with his rhyme. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “OK” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the tile beneath him.

“Okay, funny man,” you began sarcastically, planning on instructing to drink the glass of water you had retrieved on your way up to the bathroom, when he cut you off.

“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the loud belly laugh that fell past your lips. He took the glass from you and began to sip, a proud smirk never leaving his lips as he looked at you.

“You were a comedian in a past life.”

“I agree.”

You two were quiet for a bit, Harry drinking something other than tequila for the first time the entire night, and you just admiring him in silence. You let your hand crawl into his, interlocking your fingers together before bringing it up to your lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. It wasn’t long before his glass of water was finished and he crawled back into your arms, his back pressing to your chest with your arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. Your fingers ran through his still damp curls, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when you heard the little happy mewls coming from him.

“Ya take such good care of me,” he said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence you two had created together.

“I always will.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the hard wall behind you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign, to both of you. But you meant it when you said it, you loved him, and your body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved you too.

You had met through work when you interviewed him for the magazine you worked at. From the moment you saw those dimples in real life, you were weak in the knees and enamored with him. You hadn’t been trying to flirt, it just happened. And before he left the office, you had a date planned for that Friday. That was 6 months ago now and they had been some of the happiest of your life.

“Will you marry me?”

The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took you a moment to process what he said, but when you did your heart stopped.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, because you did, but not now.

It was too soon. There was still too much for you to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about you. You hadn’t even had a serious fight yet; you didn’t know how he dealt with conflict or how you would react to it. You didn’t live together; you didn’t know how your living habits would match up or if they would drive each other insane. You didn’t know how you would deal with him touring being away for so long.

There was just too much you didn't know.

“I will someday.” You spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. You were now holding his face tenderly, like if you held him steady and close, you could lessen the blow.

“So, no?” he looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch you in the gut.

“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”

“Jus’ wanna be with you forever,” he said softly and your heart began to melt. He was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and you loved him for it. You pulled him closer to your chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.

“And you will be,” you breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”

“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like tequila and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as you tried to pour all your love for him into it.

“Because we still have to grow,” you watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about you both being grown already. “We have to grow together,” you finished.

“I guess so,” he mused softly.

“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”

“Someday,” he repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, ya know?” he smirked up at you, his smile and joking tone signalling that you hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.

“That’s perfectly okay,” you sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to your own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, ya know?” you teased, using his own words against him.

“One day, I’ll make an honest woman outta ya when you let me.”

“One day.”

Thank you reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!! 

[hyuckssunchip]

[8:55 pm] - Pt. 2 (happy)

Pairings: Taeyong x Reader

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), violence (hitting), angst

Synopsis:

‘when he hurts you’ boyfriend drabble

a misunderstanding escalates to something more, what will happen to their relationship??

(note: this is just a character, i trust that Taeyong would never use violence)

Tag list: @popsuhcle​ @ne0yong​

Part 1

It had been almost a week since Taeyong was able to get in touch with you, and although he was desperate to, he didn’t try very hard. He didn’t seem to have the time nor the will too. 

It had been almost a week when Doyoung showed up at your door.

By the look on his face he was more than drained by the constant work and practice he was putting into their next comeback. You couldn’t even imagine what Taeyong looked like. He always seemed to show his wear and tear the most. 

“Doyoung?”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Y/N, hi.” There was a pause, as if he was regretting coming here. “Can I come in?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, not even realising that he was still standing in the doorway. Stepping away, you gestured for him to enter, taking notice of his heavy steps.

You offered him a glass of water and seat, which he gladly took, glancing with pitiful eyes in your direction. You weren’t dumb, you knew why he was here.

“Taeyong….” He started slowly, gauging your reaction, continuing only when he was sure that you weren’t going to kick him out. “I think you should talk to him, he’s not doing well.”

A frown flitted over your face, “What do you mean he’s not doing well?”

Doyoung just shook his head, “I don’t know much about what happened between you two, Taeyong wouldn’t tell me anything, but I know that whatever it is, it’s taking a toll on the both of you.”

He glanced at your appearance, and you tightened your jacket over your shirt. 

But any guilt or hurt quickly caved to anger, “Why should I be the one to reach out first? He was in the wrong and if he can’t talk to me… if he has to go through you… I don’t think that he’s really trying very hard.”

“I’m not going to defend him, because I don’t know what happened, but… he really does care about you. He’s just stressed and overwhelmed right now.” 

You cast your eyes downwards, fumbling with your sleeves. “That doesn’t make it okay.” You mumbled out.

Doyoung was silent for a while. 

“I know.”

He heaved a sigh, standing up from his seat with his hands in his pockets. “If you do want to talk it out, Taeyong’s been locked up in his studio for the past week. You’ll know where to find him.”

You shut your eyes tightly, jumping slightly as the soft slam of the door. A wave of guilt washed over you. Things had gotten out of hand then, it wasn’t like it was all his fault, you had egged him on. After all it takes two to tango.

You groaned, flopping onto the couch and throwing your arm over your face, heart already decided.

The familiar brown door stared back at you, as if testing you. You weren’t sure how long you had been standing there, hand growing tired with the bad full of food, dangling with a heavy presence. 

Was this a bad idea? Would things end up like they did last time?

Your thoughts teased you, caving into your irrational thoughts. 

“Y/N?”

Your breath caught in your throat as his familiar voice startled you from behind. 

“Oh.” 

Taeyong scratched the back of his head nervously, eyes unable to reach yours, not that you were trying.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long.”

A lie.

“Oh.” 

He gestured to the door and moved to open it for the two of you, standing beside it as you entered first.

The room was a mess. 

For someone as cleanly and perfectionist as Taeyong was, you couldn’t believe your eyes. There were empty take out containers, heaps of clothes from long nights stuck there, papers strewn over every possible surface. 

Your face scrunched in guilt. This wasn’t like him at all.

As if he realized, or had seen your expression, he quickly moved to shoved things off, making room for you to sit, which hesitantly took. 

A moment of awkward silence later you cleared your throat. “Here, uh.. I brought you breakfast. I didn’t think that you had eaten yet.”

There was a smile plastered on his face, but it wasn’t real. It didn’t reach his eyes the way that you were used to.

“Thanks, yeah I’m starving.” But all the while he took his food, his eyes never left yours.

Instinctively you gulped, pulling away. You wrung your hands at the awkward air that settled over the room.

“Can we talk?”

Taeyong tensed at the question as he played with the straps of the bag. 

“Yeah.” 

He sunk into the seat across from you, running his hand over his face in distress.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you first… about uh… the other day.”

Your mouth stayed shut, but your eyes begged him to continue.

“Look, I… I fucked up. Like really bad. First of all, I should never, never have laid a hand on you. If there’s one thing that I regret… ever is that. It was unwarranted and no one, especially you deserves to be treated like that. You have every right in the world to be upset and angry, and I would too, if I were you.”

He paused to breathe, weary of your reaction. You stayed silent to let him continue.

“If you would let me explain what you saw too… I promise you that it’s nothing like what you thought it was.”

He took a deep breath continuing when you let him. “That… She’s a sound producer that SM is using right now, and she’s been really trying to bounce ideas off of me. I promise that it’s nothing more than that. And the picture… it’s not like I chose it, apple does that stupid thing, you know, where it automatically updates the contact.”

Taeyong sighed, not willing to look back at you in case you didn’t agree with his excuses. 

Little did he know you were doing the same. Communication. That’s all that was needed and all of this could’ve been avoided. If you weren’t so stubborn and actually willing to listen to an explanation, your relationship would’ve never been in this mess. 

“No, I’m sorry.” Taeyong whipped his head to find your eyes. “I was stubborn and upset and… there were a lot of emotions going on. I handled it horribly, and it’s no wonder things went horribly wrong. Yes, what you did was wrong, but it would’ve never gotten that far if I just listened-”

“Stop it. You keep painting yourself in this way. Like you’re the cause of everything, like it was a domino effect. But let’s be real, it was both of our faults. If we can… learn and grow from this, as people and partners…”

You smiled at him, “I’m sorry.” He tried to interrupt. “No, just let me say that one more time. I am… really sorry. And… I love you so goddamn much.”

“Not more than I love you.”

You found yourself pressed against his chest, wrapped between his familiar arms. 

You let it last for a couple more moments before you pulled back. “Let’s get this place cleaned up, it literally looks like a dump, and that’s not an exaggeration.”

His face screwed up in agreement, “Yeah… I’ve uh been stressing a lot. You noticed?”

You smacked his chest playfully at the comment.

“Oh, and don’t think that I’m not gonna make up for our anniversary date. I’ve been working on my present for months now, you are not leaving without it.”

You didn’t think that your smile could get any wider.

Part 1

© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.

[stardust-and-blades]

Hi love! I was wondering if you took emergency requests? I know you mostly do Klance, and I love them! But, a week ago I was verbally sexually harassed by my friend. It made me self conscious about my sexuality. (I'm a lesbian btw) and last night I had a nightmare that my friend...r**ed me. Do you think I can have Keith and Lance comforting the reader after waking up from this nightmare. Maybe Keith reminding her that there's nothing wrong with being gay? If you can't I understand. Thank you sm!

Hello there! First, I wanna say how sorry I am you had such a horrid nightmare and dealt with being harassed. That is not okay from anyone, even if they are your friend. I hope they leave you alone. I am a bisexual woman and though I have not experienced your exact situation, I have dealt with judgement from family. It isn’t fun and can do a lot of damage.

Secondly, I do not normally take reader requests. Personally I am not a fan of second-person. Like you have seen, I write mostly fanfiction from a third person point of view, and occasionally first person. I do not consider myself skilled in said POV, it is hard to convey, a bit confusing, and not my cup of tea. HOWEVER, I will try my best with what I can come up with!

Do be lenient with me, this may be a disaster >_< But if it’ll help, I’ll lend my hand to you.

Remember, you are not alone and there is nothing wrong with you. Love is love. 

Now, *cracks knuckles and bREAKS NECK* Lets try this out

-----------------

When you wake up, you’re in a cold sweat. The air around you is stifling. The blankets heavy, and for a moment you wonder if your bed is actually a coffin, ready to bury you away and suck the life from your bones until all that remains is a shell of a human.

You wipe your brow, slick with the remnants of the nightmare still lingering, a vivid, broken record player repeating the same horrible fear your so-called friend instilled in you.If you could reach in your head and pull out memories, you’d do it in a flash, removing the filthy, disgusting, wretched thing daring to plague your thoughts. It was real. Far too real. Yes you have been stressing about the incident for awhile, but you didn’t think it would be bad enough to enter what one would usually call a solace. A safe place among a reality ruled by chaos.

You switch on the light by your bedside, driving the shadows licking at your feet back to where they came from. You move out of the covers, feeling suffocated, and sit there, hearing nothing but the hum of the lamp and your erratic heartbeat.

You have closed your eyes, trying to think of something else. Something happy and comforting, but you just can’t get rid of this sense of...wrongness. The feeling of being and outlier and wondering if the nightmare lead to a truth.

You are so into your head that it takes you a couple minutes to realize you aren’t alone.

A red and blue hue glimmers against your eyelids. It is not harsh like the notifications of your phone, nor bright enough to make you assume your overhead lights were switched on. You peak through your dark eyelashes, sleep lingering at the corner of your eyes and a curiosity pushing aside the demons for a bit.

When you look, two very familiar boys stood before you. One with dark hair curving at the nape of his neck and eyes resembling the cluster of stars amidst a dusk night. The other with a darker skin color, tall and lanky, and the irises mirroring the seas of the beautiful and unknown. They smile, posing no threat or ill-intention. You do a double take, seeing if they would disappear the moment you blink, their bodies translucent. But they remain, the taller boy’s smile broadening ever slightly.

“You’re--”

“Lance,” he winks. “And this fireball is Keith. We heard your distress.”

“My...distress,” you say carefully. “This--this isn’t real. You guys are fictional. I must be dreaming still.”

“No, no dream.” Lance shakes his head, pointing to the window. “We are from the stars. I was going to come alone, but Keith over here is a sad pup whenever I leave.”

Keith rolls his eyes, nudging him with his elbow. “You know why I’m here, jackass.”

“Because you love me?”

“Literally not the point.”

“So you DO love me.” Lance’s eyes were practically sparkling.

Keith rubs his eyes, sighing. “I question my taste in men.”

Lance juts out his bottom lip, ocean blues big and watery. “How rude! And after I gave you a cute purple lion at the faire.”

You couldn’t help it, you giggle. It is funny to see the interaction take place, your focus less on your nightmare and more at the boys bickering, though with love placed in their hearts. It was nice, seeing something so natural. Sweet, even. It makes you feel less abnormal, though the slithering thing in your gut turned to remind you of why you are awake in the early hours of morning.

You cringe from the reminder, the boys noticing and quiet their conversation. They ask what is wrong, and you tell them as best you could without breaking into tears, though it proves challenging.By the time you’re finished, they are sitting by you, attentive and sympathetic, Lance offering his hand for you to take and Keith telling you you do not have to go into details. That is the great thing. They listen. Not once do they interrupt, shame you, or display signs of disappointment. They care not of why they were called, but genuinely concerned, the pain all too familiar.

You spill everything out. Even your insecurities. How you love girls rather than boys, your worry if the friend was right, whether there is something wrong with you or not. If you are someone in need of fixing; in need of divine intervention like so many have preached on television and on the streets. If you should force yourself to like boys rather than girls, and if you are deserving of love if you go against the hetero-normative standard friends and family kept badgering for.

They listen. But more importantly, they care.

“It’s scary,” Keith starts. “Not knowing if you belong. Being different. There is this whole expectation of you built up the moment you’re born, and if you don’t fulfill those expectations, it’s a gamble to be you. You don’t want to lose people, because you love the idea of being accepted. But you hate denying who you are, because it’s like slowly dying.”

“You love being loved. it’s a lot easier, but the closet you shoved yourself into becomes cramped.” Lance adds softly.

“I’m not you, and you are not me.” Keith says, looking to the sky. “We are very different. But if there is one thing I learned in my short life, being loved for all of you is the best feeling in the world. Being who you are, being what is right in your heart, it’s the wings you need to fly.”

He moves his gaze to you, and gives a warm smile. “Being gay--being you--is okay. There is nothing wrong with loving girls. You deserve to find love, even if it’s in a girl. Which would you rather be, feigning a marriage to a man and be miserable, or kicking the big man in the balls and smooching the hell out of the girl next door?”

“Keith, a true man of wisdom and words.” Lance jokes, earning him a flip of the bird. Lance smirks, it melting into understanding and kindness as he turns to you. “He is right, though. Honestly, that friend of yours can take a hike. You don’t need that negativity in your life. You deserve way better. And I mean five star better, not the bare minimum. Do not settle for less, go on and kiss the girl of your dreams. If I were to have remained closeted, I sure wouldn’t have been able to be with that man over there.” 

He points to Keith, the dark haired boy blushing. Lance then grabs some tissues nearby and wipes away your tears. Keith brings you water, and they remain by your side until you felt comfortable and sleepy enough to curl back into the covers. The boys tuck you into bed, and you are hit with a wave of melancholy, for you know they are about to leave.

‘Don’t look so sad. Chin up, buttercup.” Lance rustles your hair. “We aren’t leaving forever. We will be with you every step of the way. When the hours are late and all seems frightening, just know we are beside you. You may not be able to see us, but we are there.”

Lance grabs Keith’s hand, Keith squeezing back and not letting go. “you’re not as alone as you think you are.” Keith says. “Your found family is out there, excited for you to enter their lives. Hold onto that hope.”

“And no one is going to hurt you.” Lance continues. “Guard yourself and stay away from that friend of yours, if you can call them that. You are not a toy. You are a human being, and you should be treated like one.”

“Call on us if you need anything.” Says Keith. “We will be there.”

And so they were until you closed your eyes, filled with nothing but sweet dreams and a sense of a weight being lifted from your chest.

---------------

I really hope this helped a little bit, dear reader. If you feel in danger, please contact someone you trust or report it. The behavior of your friend is not acceptable and should not be tolerated. I’d deck them in the face if I could 

You are loved. You are strong. You are a badass.

Sincerely, Shania

[darnitdraco]

Schitt’s Creek Questionnaire

Tagged by @roguebabyinyourstore​, thank you so much!

1. Favorite Schitt’s Creek character: Patrick Brewer 

2. Favorite quote: literally anything Patrick says but the way he said “oh, are you in distress?” to David in Singles Week kills me whenever I see it or hear it.

3. Who is the best dressed character in Schitt’s Creek?:  David Rose. I want half his clothes to be mine.

4. If you could be best friends with any character in Schitt’s Creek, who would it be?: Patrick Brewer. I feel like we would have a lot in common, maybe?

5. How many times have you watched the series up until this point?: Certain episodes I've watched a lot. I rewatched it with my sister and then again with my mom save a few episodes. As soon as its on Netflix US, I am rewatching it all. 

6. Which character are you most like and why?: My mom said that I’m a lot like David bc he likes food, the way he talks and bc of how much I love Patrick. But she doesn’t know I’m gay. I was in a long term relationship with a male, figured i was straight until I started having feelings for a girl I was working with? I wasn’t 30 when I realized I wasn’t straight but I was 21 almost 22 so we both realized at later points? I just feel more like Patrick 

7. Would you live at the Rosebud motel?: I wouldn't hate it but its not where I'd choose to live in Schitts Creek 

8. Do you prefer Patrick or David’s version of Tina Turner’s The Best?: this is such a hard question. I have Patricks on my phone and play it a lot but I will rewatch Davids on youtube whenever I need a pick me up or just wanna see both my boys happy and giggly. 

9. If you were to work in Schitt’s Creek, where would you work?: I wanna say Rose Apothecary bc its my favorite location but i’m not a big sales person so it would probably be the Rosebud Motel.

10. What moment made you laugh the most in the show?: there are so many oh man. the happy ending scene was top tier but specifically Patrick’s “Don't answer that. Was it? Don’t”. takes the cake here. 

11. Favorite episode?: Meet The Parents. this is the episode that I have rewatched the most. I haven't come out to my parents yet but Patrick saying that he knows his parents are good people but that he is scared it'll change everything just resonated with me. It made me feel so seen and I love it so much. 

12. What actor would you most like to be friends with in real life?: this is a question I have thought about a lot ok and It would be Dan if I could only pick one and Dan and Noah if I could pick two. I also want my dog to be friends with Redmond if that counts. 

13. What was the most touching moment for you?: anything to do with Patrick and David. overall its how the Roses grew as people but I think when David told Patrick that he loved him. It was such a big moment for him because of his past but David thought he was (I know it might just be my head cannon but oh well. point stands) so unlovable, so closed off from good meaningful relationships but he found a good person who showed him how loved he is and can be. my heart is so full for David and his realization that he can have happiness. 

sorry if y'all have been tagged before, I just love you guys sm. @maxbegone @stuck-on-your-heart @bestwisheswarmestregards @patrickbrewcr @loveburnsbrighter and anyone else who wants to do it. do it or not, im easy either way :)

[cata-strophes]

idek how to express how grateful i am in words rn but thank you so much — ive been feeling really alone lately and your words make me feel a lot less alone & genuinely hopeful & that i will come out of this in the end — i really hope im sorta conveying how thankful i am, i dont think i was really expecting a reply ? i just wanted you to know that youd helped and again ! youve helped me so much more than you could know (ps i love that drawing so much 💙🖤 thank you sm for the comfort shances)

hello anon!!

i hope you dont mind me answering this like this, i didnt want to show last one since you genuinelly seemed distressed, and, well, i didnt know how else to answer but with more of what you said helped you before,, and i really meant it, what i said, it does get better

im gonna write some personal stuff under this cut so i dont occupy everyone’s space, but feel free to read if you want to (tw? depression and mental health in general), this is really text heavy, sorry!!

i was always a pretty anxious kid, but a few years back i had a big fight with some close friends, i had a few other friends, but they were really busy and couldnt hang out, i had some really huge family problems and i was alone most of the time. around the time i found voltron, i was really deep into a low circle, i held onto it like a lifeline, thats why i was around the internet a lot at that time

i found a hobby. it was pretty robotic, but it kept me going. voltron, fics, fandom, its not the best support system, to be honest, but it helped me find something to hold onto.

anon, it seems hard now, by then i was mostly moving because thats what people expected from me. my parents didnt even find out i was having a hard time until i literally broke down in front of them and went nearly catatonic for a few hours. i got into therapy after that. it didnt solve all of my problems, but it certainly helped me keep a clear mind. i dont think i ever really told my therapist all that goes through my head because of my own personal trust problems (im pretty sure i have some sort of impostor syndrome, but even then i doubt myself, u know?)

anyways, i got sidetracked. but really. it seems hard, i know, but hey, im here right now. and im so happy i am. i still find it hard some days to even gather energy to move, get dressed, eat, and i have anxiety attacks more often than not. but i met some trully incredible people at college, im closer than ever to the same friends i mentioned i had a huge fight with, i cant wait for the next day im able to meet up with friends and enjoy a movie, or go to the park and have some tereres and just talk, or for my birthday, and inviting everyone camping. its really a wonderful feeling.

i remember a few years back, when people invited me over, i was always looking for an excuse to not go. i live too far, its raining, its too hot, my stomach hurts, i have a headache, my dad asked me to help him cook, whatever i could to get out of it. and now im travelling one hour to the city just to see them, and i enjoy it, and i cant wait to do it again

it was hard, it was painful, but i feel stronger, and much more mature, and in the end, i know i can get out of it. i built myself an incredible support system, even if im a hardass and dont like telling my problems to the people i love

god i got too sidetracked again, im just- im really really happy i could help you through that, because i was there and it felt so awful, and im glad i can help you like that, doing what i love

the most i can recommend you right now, is find something you love, something that distracts you, and hold onto that. dont make your whole life around it, but support yourself on that, until you can support yourself on your own. i had voltron, i had fandom and i had fics and fanart. i had a family going through a hard time and my overcompensating ass trying to make up for it. now i have my friends and my family and the feeling that i cant let them down by missing a day not getting out of bed. make yourself lists, congratulate yourself with every accomplishment you make, from the smallest to the biggest ones, because you did it. you did it.

remember to breathe, remember to drink water, and please, please remember to eat, preferably four meals a day, but i’ll be glad if you take at least a bite now and then

i love you anon, and i know i said it before, but i believe in you, and i trust that you’ll get through this

(ps you can always trust in me to give comfort shances, theyre the best comfort 💙🖤)

[injiminsheart]

War of Hormones: Ch 2: Look Here

ALL LABELS ARE ONLY FOR THIS CHAPTER

Word Count:

Genre: Fluff | Angst | Humor | Smut | Dark  | Hybrid

Rating: General | Teen | Mature

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader 

Fandom: BTS ARMY

Warnings: NONE, JUST SOME SASS! ;)

Missed the previous chapter? Catch up! HERE >> Chapter 1

“Girl, you won’t fucking believe what just happened!” Y/n shouted into her phone as she paced around her room in her PJs.

“What happened?” asked a bored Ani on the other end, obviously having guessed what could’ve happened at Y/n’s excitement. Ani was Y/n’s best friend from back home in the US also currently living in Korea. She was about three years older than Y/n.

They had met accidentally in a college class and had immediately clicked. Then in university they had become best friends from good friends over K-Pop and mutual love of Koreans. Even though Ani was of an African American decent and faced many weird looks from everyone in Korea, she didn’t let that deter her from her love for music, art, and Korea. She had been studying Pharmacy but Y/n and her decided to move to Korea and finally pursue what they loved. Ani was now an employee at the famous SM Entertainment.

“I met RAP MON AND MY DADDY JIMIN!!! HOLY SHIT!! THEY ARE EVEN MORE PRETTY IN REAL LIFE! I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA FAINT! I EVEN HUGGED THEM BOTH AND RAP MON EVEN OFFERED TO TALK TO THE GUY UPSTAIRS TO GET ME IN!”

“Oh,” Ani said trying not to sound bored until she did a double take and the sass came out, “wait, that bitch did what? Does that ass not know his ass is mine!? That’s it! Imma go to Suga for sure now!”

“Bitch, you just jealous he hugged me and not you!” Y/n laughed.

“Hold up! Imma go to Big Hit tomorrow and make out with your Daddy Jimin. Then we’ll see who’s laughing!” Ani sassed back.

“My Daddy Jimin is loyal af, so you got nothin’ on me, Baby!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Whatever! Yah! Let me get some sleep now. I gotta get to work early tomorrow and your ass needs to apply to other places rather than just Big Hit. They will most likely tell you tomorrow if you don’t make it and within a week if you do.”

“Yah! Don’t scare me like that! Now imma be too stressed to even sleep.”

“Watch some Bangtan Bombs like you usually do! Don’t stay up any longer than 2 am! It’s not healthy for you, Owl!”

“Who you calling an Owl? It’s just that my creativity comes out at night.”

“Uh huh. Bye.”

“Bye”

Y/n was happy. She would know soon enough and everything will work out. She decided that for time being, she’s just gonna go check out the places in the vicinity of her apartment and shop around for a while. She smiled at her blank cell phone as she picked up her laptop to watch some Bangtan Bombs and Vines. Her best friend knew her so well.

Y/n woke up and did her usual drill as she got ready for her day out shopping with a cute black dress and some sexy looking golden pumps.

Y/n got to the shopping center and got busy with shopping without noticing anything around her. She found the cutest Chanel gold blazer she had ever seen and she just had to buy it and her reasoning as always was, ‘I’ll need it for work anyways.’ She walked around a bit more and about twenty stores and five dresses, two heels, and one Amorepacific later, she got hungry. Staring around the mall, she sighed and took out her phone.

Jimin, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok were walking around the mall looking for Taehyung and Jin. They had gone off together and still hadn’t returned. Kookie had the greatest idea of calling home. A sleepy Yoongi yelling and intense looking later, they all had decided to give up.

“Hyung, could we go to Amorepacific? I need to get some more products,” Kookie asked Namjoon, scratching his head.

“Of course! Let’s go,” Namjoon said, dragging the maknae with him as the other two happily followed. They were almost there when he noticed a figure he would never forget exit the very store they were headed for.

“Namjoon Hyung, isn’t that Y/n-ssi from yesterday?” Jimin said pointing at Y/n.

“Yeah,” squinted and smiled Namjoon, obviously happy at seeing y/n.

“That’s the girl you were talking about?” Hobi said lowering his sunglasses.

“She’s got nice style,” Kookie said innocently.

“And quite the mouth,” smirked Namjoon as he overheard Y/n phone conversation.

“Yah! You are suppose to get a lunch! Come and eat with me!”

“What you mean you can’t? I’m like literally right next to your company.”

“You’re such a bitch, Ani! GET YOUR ASS HERE IN FIVE MINUTES! Aigoo! What kinda best friend leaves their damsel in distress sexy bitch of a friend to eat alone when she looking like she could woo an army of Korean guys!” Y/n said smirking into her phone.

“Thanks, Baby! I loves you!!” Y/n said smiling victoriously and blowing a kiss into her phone and hanging up. Y/n looked around as if she was looking for something and then she looked in their direction and scrunched her eyes before a realization set on her face. She had recognized them. Jimin got excited and fixed his shirt as y/n approached them.

“Omg! I can’t believe I met you guys here!” Y/n said as reached forward for Namjoon but then changed her mind and blushed while bowing slightly with a, “Anneyonghasseyo, Oppa!”

“Anneyonghasseyo!” the boys said as Namjoon smirked and reached forward to hug her, “I thought you hugged your friends,” he said.

“I do, but I can’t figure it out here. Some people don’t like me getting friendly,” smiled Y/n.

“What are you talking about? I love hugs. Especially from you,” smirked Namjoon as Y/n laughed and rolled her eyes at him.

“Me too,” Jimin said moving forward and hugging Y/n and Y/n hugged back tightly.

“I want a hug too,” Hoseok said moving towards a giggling Y/n to embrace her.

Y/n must’ve noticed a shy Jungkook just standing there because she softly asked him, “May I?” and he blushed but nodded slightly. That seemed to be all the confirmation Y/n needed because she was already hugging him. Jimin must’ve gotten jealous because he was hugging them both again. Y/n laughed while Namjoon pouted and said, “Yah, Y/n-ah! Why is Jimin always getting more hugs?”

“Because he’s my bias?” Y/n said biting her lip innocently. Jimin’s heart jumped so high that he thought he was gonna lose his mind and heart all in one go.

They chatted for a bit when a cute and petite caramel colored girl walked up to Y/n. She was dressed casually yet ready for work.

“Oh my god! Yas! Finally!” exclaimed Y/n as she excitedly threw herself in the new girl’s arms, who gladly reciprocated.

“Do we get to meet your cute friend?” Namjoon said clearing his throat and y/n pulled away embarrassed and giggled, “Mianhe, Oppa! This is Ani! She’s my best friend,” Y/n said clinging to Ani’s arm, which made Jimin pang with slight jealousy.

All the boys said their hellos to Ani as Hoseok came forward to hug Ani excitedly. Jimin and Jungkook also followed shyly and Namjoon was the last to come forward and was taken a bit back when Ani froze at his touch. He immediately pulled back to apologize but Y/n giggled and said, “don’t worry, Oppa, you’re her bias. She’s just fangirling a bit.”

Namjoon laughed as he scratched the back of his head shyly, “is that so?”

“Yeah, and you wouldn’t believe what she said---ahh!” Y/n was saying before Ani smacked Y/n’s arm with her clutch and smiled widely at Namjoon causing him to laugh a bit more.

“Okay, joesonghabnida ulineun jigeum , ganeun de pil-yohan (sorry, we need to go now),” Ani said tangling her arm together with y/n’s.

“But, but, but, but I just met them,” Y/n whined and before Ani could reply, y/n asked, “Have you guys eaten yet?”

“No, we actually were looking for two friends when Kookie said he needed to go to Amorepacific,” Namjoon replied.

“You go to Amorepacific, too! Omg, let’s talk and compare products over lunch,” Y/n smiled at Kookie as she gently held his hand in her, “Come on!”

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asked y/n as Kookie looked at Namjoon as if a kid was asking his dad permission to go to friend’s house.

“Of course, Oppa! You guys are our friends and Ani would never mind. Right, Baby?” Y/n said smirking at Ani.

Ani rolled her eyes at y/n’s antics and said, “neoheedeuleun jeomsim sigsaleul wihae uliwa hamkke isseumyeon geugeos-eul joh-haal geos-ida (I would love it if you guys would join us for lunch).”

“Yay! C’mon, Kookie!” Y/n squealed as she pulled Kookie slightly and untangled her arm with Ani. Jimin and Hobi quickly followed them excitedly as Namjoon chuckled slightly and did a after your motion and walked slowly with Ani.

Still want more? Indulge yourself HERE >> Next Chapter: Chapter 3 Coming Soon

MY ENTIRE MASTERLUST CAN BE FOUND >>>> HERE